Part Four

"What in God's name happened out there, people?"

General Hammond frowned up at the faces around the briefing room table, faces that were lined with tiredness and worry. Well, he was worried too, but that would have to be set aside until he got some answers.

It was Major Carter who replied, one hand brushing freshly washed and still damp hair from her eyes.

"I'm not sure, sir. We were several miles from the gate, heading for the town the UAV had spotted when we were attacked."

"I didn't have time to try to talk to them, General." Daniel interrupted. "They came out of nowhere."

"We had been crossing a clearing, sir, and managed to retreat to the tree line. The Colonel had been separated from us almost as soon as the attack began. It was as if they were targeting him." Sam glanced over at where Teal'c sat impassively. "Teal'c tried to get to him, but by the time we managed to fight off our attackers, he was gone."

"Gone, Major?"

"Yes, sir. The clearing was empty when we returned, even though it must have only been a few minutes."

The General nodded his head, picturing the scene.

"We then radioed for SG-3 to follow us and started tracking the men. It didn't take long to confirm that they were heading for the town."

"It was a good thing SG-3 accompanied you on this mission, or things may well have turned out differently." Hammond glanced down at the report in front of him. "Major Ferretti, you encountered a problem when rendezvousing with SG-1?"

The major sat up a little straighter in his seat, putting the pen he had been fiddling with down. "Yes, sir. We had to avoid some large parties of locals. It was several hours before we reached the coordinates Major Carter had given us, just at dusk. We decided to wait until the morning before continuing to the town."

"The topography was very steep, sir. There was no point stumbling around in the dark and risking injury. We wouldn't have done the Colonel any good that way." Sam and Lou exchanged small nods, ignoring the mumble from Daniel.

"Do you have something to add, Doctor Jackson?"

Put on the spot, Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Yes, General, I do." He raised his voice, his distress obvious. "We shouldn't have waited. We should have travelled through the night, and reached the town late the next day. Look what happened when we delayed."

"We were delayed because of a storm, Daniel." Sam's voice was angry. "The river rose and we had to find a way around. We had to wait for SG-3. We couldn't have gone in without backup, it would have been suicide."

The General raised his hand, cutting off Daniel's retort. "I agree, Major. You made the correct decision. It was just unfortunate circumstances that delayed Colonel O'Neill's rescue."

"A delay that could now cost O'Neill his life." The emotion in Teal'c's voice was clear to anyone that knew him. "I should have followed O'Neill's captors immediately."

"No Teal'c."The General's voice was firm as he stared the Jaffa in the eyes. "The decision to stay together was the correct one, as I have said. The Colonel was rescued and brought home without any further injury to either team. From what I understand, that may not have been the case if you had not been with your team mates during the river crossing."

"If Teal'c hadn't been there I doubt we would have made it across." Major Ferretti interjected, shooting a quick smile at the other man, and receiving a slow nod in reply.

"How is the Colonel doing, sir?" Lieutenant Foster of SG-3 spoke for the first time.

General Hammond rubbed a weary hand over his chin before answering. "Not good I'm afraid. According to Doctor Fraiser the burns he sustained are badly infected. He also has internal injuries and has been placed on full life support." He closed the file and stood, followed quickly by the others. "I would suggest you all get some rest, but I won't make that an order. Dismissed."

Daniel slumped back into his seat as soon as the General left. "Oh God." He put his head down on the table, resting it on his folded arms. "I don't know what to do. Janet won't let us near Jack. I know I won't be able to sleep, but I can barely keep my eyes open."

Lou Ferretti leaned on the table beside him, rubbing his hands over his eyes. "I know what you mean, Daniel. It's been pretty intense these last few days, no wonder we're all exhausted." With a sign he shut his eyes, sinking into the chair next to Daniel. "Those damned animals. What the hell did they do to him?"

"God knows, Lou. God knows."

"Perhaps O'Neill will tell us when he recovers." Teal'c stood by the open door, looking out into the corridor. The certainty in his voice made the others lift their heads. A few tentative smiles and straightening of shoulders, and Daniel and Lou stood.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to get something to eat. Join me?" Sam turned towards the door, briefly touching Teal'c's arm as she exited, followed closely by the others.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Doctor Fraiser took another look at the readings from the monitors surrounding the Colonel's bed, and sighed. She caught the eyes of the nurse sitting beside her patient, and shook her head. He wasn't responding to treatment, the antibiotics doing nothing to combat the infection that ravaged his body, the burns still raw and weeping. The internal damage, and she didn't even want to think how that had happened, had been repaired and wouldn't normally be a major concern, but he had gone into arrest in the Gateroom, soon after being carried through the wormhole, succumbing to internal bleeding, severe dehydration and shock.

There was something more to it than that, though, and Janet was waiting for the results of the tests they had run on the substance found in the Colonel's body. It appeared to have invaded his entire digestive system, starting with his throat and following right through to his bowel. It had overflowed into his nasal passages and despite their best efforts, was still present throughout his body in massive quantities. They had had to intubate him, his lungs beginning to fail as if he had inhaled the thick goo. But instead of stabilising, O'Neill's body was shutting down, piece by piece, and now only the machines were keeping him alive.

She returned to her office, closing the door before pulling her chair out and sitting down. For a moment she stared into space, then picked up her pen and began to write. She had a report to make to General Hammond. She also had to decide just how much to tell the Colonel's team.

After a few minutes she laid the pen down again.

She couldn't think of the words. No matter how many such reports she had written they never got any easier, especially when the patient was a friend.

When she thought of the damage she had found on O'Neill's body she wanted to weep, or at least hit something. There had been signs of animal bites and claws, even marks of human teeth, as if he had been eaten alive. The burns were too localised to be caused by an accident, and she could only imagine the agony he must have been in with them left untreated for so long.

What had happened to him?

Maybe she didn't want to know.

They probably would never find out. The Colonel had been unconscious from the time his team had rescued him, except for a brief moment in the Gateroom when he had weakly fought the intubation.

A knock on the office door and the results of the tests were laid on her desk by a technician. The lab must have worked overtime to finish them so quickly, and Janet made a point of asking the young man to pass her thanks to his colleagues. Only when the door was firmly closed once again did she turn the cover page and begin reading.

By the second page her tears were falling freely, staining the paper.

The liquid was toxic.

Even if the infection raging through Colonel O'Neill began to respond to the antibiotics, the damage already done by the substance was irreversible, the poison spreading as if it had a life of its own. They had never seen anything like it, had no answers.

Janet took a tissue from the box on the desk, and blew her nose. Throwing it into the bin she pulled out another and wiped her eyes, holding it wadded up in her left hand.

She stood, opened the door and walked across the infirmary to the small ICU room, lifting herself up on her toes to look through the window in the door. The Colonel was surrounded by machines, covered by dressings and pierced by needles. Tubes ran in every direction, the machine pumping oxygen into him wheezing beside the head of his head. The skin on his face was so pale that it appeared translucent. Even as she watched one of the monitors gave a small stutter, causing the nurse to look up, worry etched into the lines of her face. The stutter settled again, and Janet saw the nurse sit back, taking the Colonel's unbandaged hand lightly in her own, picking up the papers she had been reading in the other.

The doctor lowered herself back down onto the soles of her feet and turned her back, returning to her office and sitting again, the sodden tissue still clutched tightly in her hand.

She picked up the pen again, pulled the barely started report from beneath the test results, and began to write.