"What was that?"
Jack turned to look at Melony, who was looking down at her arm. O'Neill hadn't actually seen the darts, but he thought he'd felt something go past him as she'd pushed him, and he definitely heard the sound of the first one hitting her cast.
"Melony?"
"It's probably nothing, Jack," Mitchell said, shaking her head.
Jack took hold of her arm before Mitchell could move it, and shined the flashlight down on the cast. There was about three inches of dart sticking out of the heavy plaster, and a bloody mess right above that, close to the bend of her elbow, where about half an inch of dart was sticking out.
"What the hell is that?"
"Sir?" Carter had heard the note of concern in Jack's voice and moved over to the doorway, followed closely by Anderson and Daniel. All of them looked down at Mitchell's arm, and she scowled, since O'Neill was holding it too tightly for her to move away.
"What happened, Jack?" Daniel asked.
"I'm not sure." Jack said, shining his light from Melony's arm back into the room, which immediately went from dim to brilliant once more. "Let's go outside where I can see it better."
"Colonel?"
"I'm fine, Brad. Don't worry."
She allowed O'Neill to pull her out of the pyramid, where the bright sun beat warmly down on them. Mainly because he was holding her too tightly for her to try and balk, even if she'd wanted to.
They all looked at the dart that was sticking into the cast, and all of them were undoubtedly thinking the same thing when they figured that judging from the amount of dart that was sticking out of the cast, compared to the amount of dart that was sticking out from Melony's bleeding forearm, there had to be at least 2 inches, maybe more, in her arm. Anderson was the first to voice what everyone else was worried about.
"God, do you think it's poisoned?"
"Melony?" Jack looked at her, carefully. "How do you feel?"
"It hardly even hurts," Mitchell said, trying to flex the hand, but wincing when the muscle pulled against the piece of metal that was embedded in her arm. She reached over with her left hand, and gripped the half-inch of the dart that was sticking out and yanked the thing out of her forearm before anyone could stop her. Not that any of them would have.
She looked at the bloody dart, and scowled. It was covered with blood and a few small pieces of her flesh – which was kind of icky – but she'd been hurt much worse many times, and was trying very hard not to think about the possibility of poison.
"Let me see that." Carter reached for it, but Melony moved it away from Carter and the others. If it was poisoned, then there was no way the others were going to touch it as it was. "Get a baggie, Anderson. You guys can look at it through the plastic."
He nodded, and gave her another worried look, figuring if she was going to use such caution, then she thought there might be a chance it was poisoned.
"Go, Major," Jack told him, his own concern making him shorter with the younger man than he'd intended to be. "Carter? Teal'c? Get camp taken apart. We're heading back."
"What?" This was from Mitchell. "Jack, it's prob-"
"I'm not going to take any chances, Melony." Jack told her, interrupting. "We're a long ways from help, and if that is dangerous..." He refused to say the word 'poisoned' "...then we need to get going, now, before it gets serious."
She didn't reply, instead looking down at the dart in her hand and the dart in her cast. He was probably right, as much as she hated the fact that they'd walked all this way only to go home again so soon.
"Here." Anderson came running up with a small zip-lock baggie that he handed to Mitchell. The Colonel put the bloody dart into it, then pulled the other one out of her cast and put that one in as well. She saw Jack looking at the second one, probably looking for blood, which was confirmed with his next question.
"Did that one get you?"
"I don't think so." She told him, honestly. "I didn't feel anything, anyways." She closed the bag, tightly, and rolled it up, and handed it to Anderson. "Be careful with that."
"I will."
Anderson had grabbed a first aid kit from camp when he'd gotten the baggie, and he handed it to O'Neill, who took it with a nod and opened it up. Pulling out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, he held Mitchell's arm at a slight angle, then emptied the entire bottle in the wound left by the dart. THAT hurt far more than the dart itself had, and Mitchell flinched, jerking her hand back, reflexively. Jack's grip was tight enough that it didn't move far, though, and he gave her an apologetic look as her breath hissed out from between tightly clenched teeth.
"Gah, that freaking hurt."
"Sorry."
"Not your fault."
Actually, Jack was well aware that it WAS his fault. It hadn't escaped his notice that she'd pushed him out of the way of those two darts, and while it wasn't as dramatic as jumping on a landmine or pushing him out of the way of a speeding car, he was worried that it might have same consequences if the dart did turn out to be poisoned. Which was why he was so determined that they were going to get back to the SGC as soon as possible, so they could be near better-trained medical personnel.
He put a bandage on the small wound, and then wrapped it tightly with gauze and then tape, and gave her another worried look.
"Stop looking at me like that, Jack." She scowled and moved her hand from his grasp, and he allowed her to this time. He'd pretty much done all he could.
"Daniel?" Jack turned to the archeologist, who had taken the bag from Anderson and was looking at the darts intently. Daniel turned.
"Yes?"
"Do you think they're poisoned?"
"I don't know, Jack." He answered, honestly. "The Dralut don't appear to be a culture that would do something like that. From all I've managed to translate, they appreciated the sanctity of life, and thought it was precious. Which was why they worshipped trees."
"And the other guys? The ones that came later with the dead comrade?"
Daniel shrugged, helplessly. "I just don't know, Jack. I can't figure out their language well enough to understand what they've written."
"Maybe the dead guy wasn't dead when he got here..." Anderson said softly, and when Mitchell looked over at her Second in Command, she saw real concern in his eyes. And she reacted to it, immediately, by reaching out with her good hand and patting his shoulder reassuringly.
"Don't worry about it until we know there's something to worry about, Major." She told him, trying – and failing – to be stern. There was no way she could chew him out for caring. "It's not going to do any good to get all worked up over..." Melony trailed off and looked down at her casted arm, shaking it slightly and flexing the fingers.
"What is it?" Jack asked.
"My whole arm just went numb."
Jack turned to look at Melony, who was looking down at her arm. O'Neill hadn't actually seen the darts, but he thought he'd felt something go past him as she'd pushed him, and he definitely heard the sound of the first one hitting her cast.
"Melony?"
"It's probably nothing, Jack," Mitchell said, shaking her head.
Jack took hold of her arm before Mitchell could move it, and shined the flashlight down on the cast. There was about three inches of dart sticking out of the heavy plaster, and a bloody mess right above that, close to the bend of her elbow, where about half an inch of dart was sticking out.
"What the hell is that?"
"Sir?" Carter had heard the note of concern in Jack's voice and moved over to the doorway, followed closely by Anderson and Daniel. All of them looked down at Mitchell's arm, and she scowled, since O'Neill was holding it too tightly for her to move away.
"What happened, Jack?" Daniel asked.
"I'm not sure." Jack said, shining his light from Melony's arm back into the room, which immediately went from dim to brilliant once more. "Let's go outside where I can see it better."
"Colonel?"
"I'm fine, Brad. Don't worry."
She allowed O'Neill to pull her out of the pyramid, where the bright sun beat warmly down on them. Mainly because he was holding her too tightly for her to try and balk, even if she'd wanted to.
They all looked at the dart that was sticking into the cast, and all of them were undoubtedly thinking the same thing when they figured that judging from the amount of dart that was sticking out of the cast, compared to the amount of dart that was sticking out from Melony's bleeding forearm, there had to be at least 2 inches, maybe more, in her arm. Anderson was the first to voice what everyone else was worried about.
"God, do you think it's poisoned?"
"Melony?" Jack looked at her, carefully. "How do you feel?"
"It hardly even hurts," Mitchell said, trying to flex the hand, but wincing when the muscle pulled against the piece of metal that was embedded in her arm. She reached over with her left hand, and gripped the half-inch of the dart that was sticking out and yanked the thing out of her forearm before anyone could stop her. Not that any of them would have.
She looked at the bloody dart, and scowled. It was covered with blood and a few small pieces of her flesh – which was kind of icky – but she'd been hurt much worse many times, and was trying very hard not to think about the possibility of poison.
"Let me see that." Carter reached for it, but Melony moved it away from Carter and the others. If it was poisoned, then there was no way the others were going to touch it as it was. "Get a baggie, Anderson. You guys can look at it through the plastic."
He nodded, and gave her another worried look, figuring if she was going to use such caution, then she thought there might be a chance it was poisoned.
"Go, Major," Jack told him, his own concern making him shorter with the younger man than he'd intended to be. "Carter? Teal'c? Get camp taken apart. We're heading back."
"What?" This was from Mitchell. "Jack, it's prob-"
"I'm not going to take any chances, Melony." Jack told her, interrupting. "We're a long ways from help, and if that is dangerous..." He refused to say the word 'poisoned' "...then we need to get going, now, before it gets serious."
She didn't reply, instead looking down at the dart in her hand and the dart in her cast. He was probably right, as much as she hated the fact that they'd walked all this way only to go home again so soon.
"Here." Anderson came running up with a small zip-lock baggie that he handed to Mitchell. The Colonel put the bloody dart into it, then pulled the other one out of her cast and put that one in as well. She saw Jack looking at the second one, probably looking for blood, which was confirmed with his next question.
"Did that one get you?"
"I don't think so." She told him, honestly. "I didn't feel anything, anyways." She closed the bag, tightly, and rolled it up, and handed it to Anderson. "Be careful with that."
"I will."
Anderson had grabbed a first aid kit from camp when he'd gotten the baggie, and he handed it to O'Neill, who took it with a nod and opened it up. Pulling out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, he held Mitchell's arm at a slight angle, then emptied the entire bottle in the wound left by the dart. THAT hurt far more than the dart itself had, and Mitchell flinched, jerking her hand back, reflexively. Jack's grip was tight enough that it didn't move far, though, and he gave her an apologetic look as her breath hissed out from between tightly clenched teeth.
"Gah, that freaking hurt."
"Sorry."
"Not your fault."
Actually, Jack was well aware that it WAS his fault. It hadn't escaped his notice that she'd pushed him out of the way of those two darts, and while it wasn't as dramatic as jumping on a landmine or pushing him out of the way of a speeding car, he was worried that it might have same consequences if the dart did turn out to be poisoned. Which was why he was so determined that they were going to get back to the SGC as soon as possible, so they could be near better-trained medical personnel.
He put a bandage on the small wound, and then wrapped it tightly with gauze and then tape, and gave her another worried look.
"Stop looking at me like that, Jack." She scowled and moved her hand from his grasp, and he allowed her to this time. He'd pretty much done all he could.
"Daniel?" Jack turned to the archeologist, who had taken the bag from Anderson and was looking at the darts intently. Daniel turned.
"Yes?"
"Do you think they're poisoned?"
"I don't know, Jack." He answered, honestly. "The Dralut don't appear to be a culture that would do something like that. From all I've managed to translate, they appreciated the sanctity of life, and thought it was precious. Which was why they worshipped trees."
"And the other guys? The ones that came later with the dead comrade?"
Daniel shrugged, helplessly. "I just don't know, Jack. I can't figure out their language well enough to understand what they've written."
"Maybe the dead guy wasn't dead when he got here..." Anderson said softly, and when Mitchell looked over at her Second in Command, she saw real concern in his eyes. And she reacted to it, immediately, by reaching out with her good hand and patting his shoulder reassuringly.
"Don't worry about it until we know there's something to worry about, Major." She told him, trying – and failing – to be stern. There was no way she could chew him out for caring. "It's not going to do any good to get all worked up over..." Melony trailed off and looked down at her casted arm, shaking it slightly and flexing the fingers.
"What is it?" Jack asked.
"My whole arm just went numb."