Part 7
Daniel pulled himself up on to one elbow, ignoring the still vicious headache, and tried to see what was happening.
They had found Jack.
He was alive. At least he thought he was. Sam and Lieutenant Jarlic were kneeling next to him, the medical kit open.
He must be alive.
He heard Sam telling Lou Ferretti that Jack's wounds were infected, that they were giving him morphine. The short argument between Lou & the local man barely registered with Daniel as his concern for his friend grew. Jack wasn't moving.
"Sam?"
Sam didn't turn, but Ferretti did, coming over to him.
"How are you feeling, Daniel?"
"I'm okay." Daniel began to swing his legs off the table. "Just get me off here, will you? I want to see how Jack is."
Daniel found himself being held by a restraining arm. "I don't think you should do that. You look like you've had a pretty heavy blow to your head."
"It's okay, Lou. Really, I feel fine."
It was obvious that Ferretti wasn't believing a word of it. "Sure, Daniel, fine. You're covered in bruises and you can barely keep your eyes open. Jack's being looked after." He glanced over at the supine figure. 'You stay here while I go and find out how he is. Alright?"
Daniel could only nod. He kept his eyes on Ferretti as the other man started back to where Jack lay.
"Fire!" Daniel turned a startled gaze towards the cry. Thick, black smoke was billowing from the doorway to the tunnels, the speed with which it was filling the room taking everyone by surprise. It rolled across the dungeon, making Daniel's eyes water, and causing him to start coughing immediately. It bore straight into his head, grabbing his brain and spinning it around and about. He felt himself begin to fall back to the surface of the table, even as he tried to urge his body to get up and escape and the world began to drift away.
Abruptly he felt himself lifted up, before being bodily dragged across the floor and up the steep stairs. It had all happened so suddenly that the feeling of a breeze on his face was the first inkling he had that he was outside.
Daniel blinked in the sunshine, the bright light and smoke combining to make his eyes stream after so long in the dark. He was lowered, his back against a wall, and he took his glasses off before rubbing his eyes, trying to clear them. Soon he could make out what was going on around him.
Flames were leaping from the roof of the building they had just left, as figures poured from the doorway, hurrying away from the heat. He recognised Sam, hunched over and coughing, her hand to her mouth. She had the other hand firmly on the figure being carried towards him.
Jack.
They laid him down beside Daniel, and finally he was able to see his friend in the cold light of day.
It was odd, but somehow the blood, the cuts, the dirt encrusted bandages, didn't seem as bad as he had imagined. It was the deadly pallor that shocked him, the almost translucent quality of Jack's skin contrasting so vividly with the flushed cheeks.
"Damn it!" Sam's exclamation made Daniel start. She had been wiping away some of the grime, cleaning and bandaging as she did so.
"What is it, Sam?" Daniel scooted over a little and was rewarded by a slightly irritated look from Jarlic, who was concentrating on the injuries to Jack's legs. One of them was obviously broken; something Daniel knew had to have happened in the last few hours.
"The Colonel's got a head injury. I shouldn't have given him morphine." She frowned and looked up at Daniel. "Was he showing any signs of concussion?"
Daniel thought back to when Jack had first woken in the dungeon. He had definitely been disorientated, but that was only to be expected given the circumstances. Later it had been hard to tell, the darkness and his injuries could have easily hidden the signs.
"I'm not sure. He was hit fairly hard and was out for several hours." Daniel saw the worry grow on both Jarlic and Sam's faces, and hurried on with his explanation. "I don't think you should worry about giving him the morphine, Sam. I think you'll find that you made the right decision given his other injuries."
"Sam?" Lou Ferretti appeared beside them, his uniform covered in soot. He crouched down as he spoke. "How is he?"
"Not good, Lou. We've done everything we can here, we need to get him home."
Ferretti nodded in reply. "We're not staying any longer than we have to. I want you and Jarlic to head for the gate with the Colonel and Daniel." He paused as Teal'c joined them. "Teal'c and the rest of SG-10 will go with you, but I don't think there will be any problems."
Daniel watched Ferretti stand and look around. Some of the townspeople were watching from across the square, seemingly bewildered by what had happened. He could see them talking, pointing at the blazing building, but none were coming any closer, not even to see if any of their own people were injured.
Ferretti turned back and gave a grim smile. "SG-2 will stay here and mop up. I'm planning to have a quiet word with whoever passes for a leader around here. From what Teal'c tells me, we won't have to worry about Pater Yleek anymore, but I want to be sure." He looked down at Jack before continuing. "I'm going to tell them a few home truths and I'm sure as hell not worrying about any Prime Directive."
Daniel gave a snort of amusement before abruptly sobering. Worry and exhaustion weighed him down; all he wanted to do now was go home. Jack was being lifted on to a stretcher, looking even worse than he had a few minutes ago, if that were possible. Daniel shook his head a little, trying to clear it. For a second there, it had been as if Jack had faded into the grey of the blankets covering him, as if he hadn't been there at all.
As if he had disappeared.
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Jack knew that the fire was taking its time devouring him. He didn't expect it to be painless, or quick. Hell shouldn't be kind.
The words reverberated in his mind. His soul was stained. He was being punished.
He existed in that limbo between living and dying, digging his heels in and fighting death every step of the way.
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This time Janet Fraiser really felt like crying. This time she had almost lost it when they had seen what had been done to Colonel O'Neill, especially when she had been told how it had happened.
Her faith in the basic goodness of Man had been severely tested.
The circulation had been compromised in the Colonel's left arm, the damage from the dislocations left untended for so long, at first almost causing her to despair.
The deep penetrating wounds covering the back of his legs had been caused by an instrument designed to cause the maximum pain without death – except from infection. It had been infection that had almost killed him. The cross- shaped brands, the puncture wounds, the burns, and the slashes on his chest had been a deadly mixture.
She still had to swallow down bile whenever she thought of the sight of the three long gashes across his chest, deep and oozing. When Daniel had told her what had caused them, she had shut her eyes and then sent an orderly off to do a search of the Internet. He had brought back a picture of something that had actually been worse than she had imagined. A claw, made to rip and tear. The Colonel would bear the scars of this mission for a very long time.
Janet put her elbows on her desk and buried her head in her hands. She had been reviewing the Colonel's chart. He was still critical, the infection still raging.
The Inquisitor might win yet.
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Doctor Fraiser hadn't been the only one to research the torture methods of the Inquisition. Teal'c had listened carefully to Daniel Jackson's description of what they had done to O'Neill and had then headed straight for the nearest computer.
Nothing he found shocked him, he had seen much worse in his long years as First Prime. What had troubled him had been the reasoning behind the horror, the slow lingering death granted as a favour, supposedly giving the victim more time to repent. Slow torture, unless used to extract information was, he knew, merely to give pleasure to the torturer. To pretend otherwise was obscene.
Once again he wondered at the capacity that the Tau'ri had to cause pain. Some of them could give lessons to the Goa'uld.
He had closed off the computer. and returned to the infirmary, sitting with Daniel Jackson in the main ward, his thoughts turned to the small private room into which he was not allowed.
He and Daniel Jackson had pieced together most of what had happened in the dungeon and the tunnels, with only a few gaps missing in their knowledge of events, whilst Major Carter had been ordered to rest in her quarters. She had remained asleep for almost a full day, before joining them.
The tone of their discussion had ranged from anger, to guilt, to acceptance, and back once more to anger. It was only when Major Ferretti had returned with the news that the remains of the Pater had been found in the rubble, that he had felt some closure.
Justice had been served, and in a suitably fitting way.
Now they could only wait.
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The first positive sign came almost four days after their return, Jack's temperature dropping gradually as his body finally fought off the infection. His team was allowed a brief visit, before being ushered out once more, the equipment leaving space in the small room for only the constant nurse watching over him. He was covered in plaster and bandages, making his whole body a white as his face. What little they could see of him was pale and drawn, and they left feeling uneasy, the reassurance they had been seeking nowhere to be found in the still form of their CO.
Daniel had been released from the infirmary the day before, and although stiff and sore, was recovering well.
At least physically.
He had admitted to being woken by nightmares several times. He hadn't gone into details, and everyone had assumed they had been of the torture.
They hadn't been.
He had found himself reliving that moment when he realised he had left Jack lost in the tunnels, over and over again. Each nightmare ended differently; with Jack's body being found in the remains of the burnt out building, with him being dragged into the dungeon to be put back on the rack once more, with him crawling through the winding passages until he died alone in the dark; Each time Jack had called Daniel's name, and each time he hadn't answered.
He had woken suddenly, sitting up in bed, his heart thumping. Only Janet's orders had prevented him from running to Jack's room, just to reassure himself that his friend was alive.
Then Janet had let them see him.
It hadn't helped. Daniel could catalogue every tiny cut, every livid tear; he could almost feel the pain in every joint.
If this was Jack improving, then he was glad that Janet hadn't let him visit earlier.
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Jack was glad that he had finished burning. Now the numbness was back, like an old familiar friend who had come to stay and been welcomed. He relished the lack of sensation.
It didn't take long to work out where he was. He was home. He had won the battle again. He had time to remember exactly what had happened. There were large gaps, but he could fill much of the missing time with logical deductions. He knew he had been badly injured; he had felt the first signs of fever and delirium while lying next to the fire in the tunnel. He even remembered waking and finding Daniel gone. The next really vivid moment had been finding that crazy bastard bending over him and breaking his leg, then a flash as a torch descended.
All of which left him with several questions, the most important of which was, where was Daniel?
Gradually he became aware of sounds, sounds he recognised. The quiet whispers and touches as he was cared for, all dignity stripped away by necessity. The numbness had become familiar as well – the drugged state he associated with serious injury. Memories of burning flared once more, and just for a second, the fleeting thought that it may be better if he didn't wake up wandered through his mind, only to be dismissed as quickly as it had appeared.
He could face reality. He had survived torture yet again, and he was stronger than he had been the first time. He hadn't given in then and he sure as hell wouldn't now.
"Colonel?" A voice he didn't recognise. A nurse? He managed to open his eyes a crack, causing the voice to give a startled yelp. Within minutes a more familiar voice was speaking softly into his ear.
"Colonel O'Neill?" He could make out the Doc's face in the dim light and gave an answering smile, before trying to search the rest of the room. His vision seemed to extend to just a few feet, just enough to see that the only other occupant of the room was the young nurse he presumed had responded when he woke. No Daniel.
He remembered being carried out of the tunnels. He only knew one person that could have carried him like that – Teal'c. Teal'c must be all right. He even had a fleeting memory of Carter looking down at him.
But no Daniel.
"Sir!" Fraiser's voice commanded his attention. He brought his gaze back to her. "They're all okay. Daniel, Sam, Teal'c – they are fine." She was smiling and he knew she was telling the truth, not just saying something she thought he wanted to hear. "Daniel is fine. His injuries weren't serious." She raised her voice a little and, with a shock, Jack realised that his eyes had started to close. "Did you hear me, Colonel?"
He was able to give a small nod, before falling asleep once more.
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"He woke up." Janet had given him the news as soon as he entered the infirmary. A small part of the almost overwhelming weight he had felt for the last several days had lifted at her words.
He had awoken. Jack had been awake.
"Can I sit with him?" He could hardly wait for her permission, his feet already moving towards the room.
"Yes, but only for a short time, and remember, if he wakes again, he's still sedated, so he may not be very coherent." The words were spoken to Daniel's retreating back.
Daniel slowed down when he reached the half closed door to Jack's room. What was he going to say to his friend? Hi Jack, sorry I lost you? Sorry I let them find you again? Sorry I wasn't there?
He took a deep breath, and gently pushed the door open enough to enter. He didn't know what he was going to say when Jack woke up, but he was very grateful that Jack was alive to hear it.
The nurse looked up as he walked towards the bed, and smiled. "He's asleep again. He was awake a few minutes ago." She kept her voice low, and Daniel followed suit, thanking her in a whisper as he pulled a chair up to the bed and sat. He had to admit that Jack looked better, there was more colour in what little Daniel could see of his skin – natural colour – not the flush of fever and the infection that Daniel had seen in the brief glimpse he had had of his friend back on that planet. Jack's grey hair was ruffled from lying down so long, and Daniel was pleased to see that he looked surprisingly relaxed.
He watched Jack sleeping, not willing to leave him alone once more.
He sat there quietly, the time passing unnoticed.
"Doctor Jackson." The nurse's soft voice woke him from a light doze. As he blinked himself awake, he followed her gaze to see Jack's eyes open and fixed on his.
"Jack." Daniel scooted closer to the bed, dragging his chair up level with the other man's head. "Hey." He couldn't think of anything else to say, all her knew was that he was grinning fit to burst.
"Hi." The answer was barely audible, but the smile was there.
Daniel reached over and lightly rested his fingers on Jack's right arm, the only part of him visible with no injury. There would be a time for them to talk. For now he was just happy to have Jack back.
"Daniel?" Sam's voice made him start; he hadn't even noticed his two teammates enter the room.
Jack's eyes had closed again, and he was sleeping peacefully once more. Daniel turned to Sam and Teal'c. "He was awake. He spoke."
Sam moved to stand behind him, her hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing. Teal'c stood on his other side, his arm touching Daniel's in the confined space. Daniel kept his fingers on Jack, feeling the comforting warmth with a sense of wonder.
They stayed like that, just watching, connected to each other.
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