Night had fallen, and they were forced to stop. They were right on the edge
of the trees, now, and Jack thought for sure they'd make it back to the SGC
the next day, and he intended to get on the move as soon as there was
enough light to see by the next morning. There was no way, however, that he
could risk going on now. Not with the sun down and the roughest ground
ahead of them. So he'd stopped at the tree line where they'd have fuel to
make a fire, and hope for the best. Certainly by now Sam and Anderson were
at the SGC, and hopefully even as they were setting up camp, Fraiser was
getting a syringe of antidote ready to send back through the gate. Unless
of course, something had happened to the two Majors on their run, and
they'd been injured, or there had been an ambush at the gate itself and
they'd either been hurt, captured, killed or zapped away from the area.
It wasn't likely, but it was enough of a possibility that Jack was forced to consider it. Which was the only reason he was forcing Melony to endure more traveling instead of waiting for the rescue to come to them. They just couldn't be 100 percent sure that a rescue was coming.
Mitchell was fading fast. They couldn't get through to her, anymore. Her body was burning with fever and her muscles were seizing up on her, making her thrash in pain so badly that Jack had been forced to use a rope to keep her pinned to the stretcher. She mumbled constantly, deliriously, talking to people that only she could see, and occasionally holding an argument that only she understood. Every now and then she'd change languages, and would start talking to someone in German or Russian, and those times Daniel would occasionally answer her, trying to get a response of any sort out of her. It was all for naught, though, because whoever she was talking to, and wherever her mind was, it wasn't with SG-1 anymore, and it definitely wasn't on the same planet.
When they stopped for the night, O'Neill had Teal'c pick her up and take her off the stretcher. He wanted to check the blankets for any looseness that might cause the stretcher to come apart the next day, and he wanted to take the time to get Mitchell changed over into some clean clothes. Hers were soiled from two days of nonstop being carried, and he didn't want to risk any more sickness than she was already facing. Besides, she was his responsibility, and he'd take care of her like he promised.
He had to cut her shirt off her. He couldn't get the sleeve over the cast, or the swollen arm, and when he had her undressed, he took a damp cloth and bathed her tenderly with it, trying to cool and soothe her at the same time. When she started shivering, though, he took it as a sign that she'd had enough – even though she hadn't said anything, of course – and he gently redressed her in a clean uniform, which he'd cut the right sleeve off of. He covered her warmly, and tried to get her to drink something, but she kept mumbling that she didn't want water, she wanted coffee – which was what he was trying to give her – and when she began thrashing again, Jack gave up, and just wrapped his arms around her and held her.
Daniel and Teal'c had the fire going by then, and Daniel brought him some dinner, but Jack shook his head. He wasn't hungry. He rocked her softly, certain that she wasn't going to make it through another fourteen-hour night, and determined that she wasn't going to be alone.
"Anything I can do, Jack?" Daniel asked as he came over and sat on the other side of Mitchell. Teal'c had the first watch of the night, and he had carried his staff weapon out of the range of the firelight so he could see if anything were to approach.
"No, Daniel." He brushed away a tear with his shoulder, and looked down at her mournfully. "This is the second member of the Mitchell family I've killed." He said, softly, giving in to the guilt that the pace of the day had managed to keep at bay. "I'm glad her parents aren't alive to see this..."
"You didn't kill her, Jack. She's not dead."
"She's not going to make it through the night..." Jack was giving up on her, now, Daniel saw.
"You don't know that. She's tough. Look how far she's made it so far."
"I know it. I know what she can handle and what she can't." Jack shook his head, hugging Melony even closer to himself, which elicited a gasp of pain from her. "First Michael, now her."
"Jack..." It wasn't even a whisper. It was a breathless, pain-filled murmur of sound. Both men looked down at her, but her eyes weren't open, and she wasn't giving any sign that she'd said anything. Although they both knew it hadn't been them.
"Melony?"
"My... choice... Mike's... choice..."
He sobbed, and pulled her close once more, burying his head in her uniform shirt and crying like a lost child. He didn't want to be the reason they'd died, damn it. It wasn't fair. He wasn't worth either of them.
Daniel reached his hand out and laid it on O'Neill's shoulder, giving his friend the support that Mitchell couldn't give, and wishing there was something he could say.
~*~
Teal'c heard the noise first, and turned his head towards it. They'd been on this planet and in the trees long enough that he knew what belonged, and what didn't. And the faint noise he was hearing certainly didn't belong. He saw lights bobbing on the horizon, and the noises grew louder. He raised his staff weapon, pointing it in the direction of the possible threat.
"O'Neill!"
Jack raised his head, tears streaking and smearing his face, and looked over toward the sound of Teal'c's voice. He sniffed, wiping his nose on his shoulder, and tried to see what was wrong, but he couldn't see anything in the light of the fire, and he couldn't see anything past it.
"Go see what he needs, Daniel." Jack said.
Jackson nodded and stood up, then walked over to Teal'c. He didn't need to ask, though. He just looked the same way Teal'c was looking, and when he saw the lights bobbing on the horizon as well, he turned to Jack.
"Someone's coming, Jack!"
Whether it was good guys, or bad, he wasn't sure. But it was obvious that they weren't alone, anymore.
~*~
"There's a fire!" Anderson called to the others, who were driving close, but not too close. They didn't want to get into any wrecks, and they certainly couldn't afford to damage any of their equipment. The others all saw it as well – there wasn't a whole hell of a lot of other stuff to see in the darkness, after all – and they all turned their vehicles in that direction.
It was less than twenty minutes later, when Anderson and Carter pulled to a stop, and found themselves facing the serious end of Teal'c's staff weapon and Daniel's Beretta. The two raised their hands quickly, but by then the Jaffa and the archeologist had recognized them, and the weapons were all put away. Anderson barely waited. He turned and headed towards the fire, and found that Jack O'Neill was crouched over Mitchell's body with his Beretta in his hand, his brown eyes as deadly serious as the weapon in his hand as he waited to see if there was danger to his charge or not.
"Colonel?"
Anderson moved closer, and O'Neill lowered the gun.
It wasn't likely, but it was enough of a possibility that Jack was forced to consider it. Which was the only reason he was forcing Melony to endure more traveling instead of waiting for the rescue to come to them. They just couldn't be 100 percent sure that a rescue was coming.
Mitchell was fading fast. They couldn't get through to her, anymore. Her body was burning with fever and her muscles were seizing up on her, making her thrash in pain so badly that Jack had been forced to use a rope to keep her pinned to the stretcher. She mumbled constantly, deliriously, talking to people that only she could see, and occasionally holding an argument that only she understood. Every now and then she'd change languages, and would start talking to someone in German or Russian, and those times Daniel would occasionally answer her, trying to get a response of any sort out of her. It was all for naught, though, because whoever she was talking to, and wherever her mind was, it wasn't with SG-1 anymore, and it definitely wasn't on the same planet.
When they stopped for the night, O'Neill had Teal'c pick her up and take her off the stretcher. He wanted to check the blankets for any looseness that might cause the stretcher to come apart the next day, and he wanted to take the time to get Mitchell changed over into some clean clothes. Hers were soiled from two days of nonstop being carried, and he didn't want to risk any more sickness than she was already facing. Besides, she was his responsibility, and he'd take care of her like he promised.
He had to cut her shirt off her. He couldn't get the sleeve over the cast, or the swollen arm, and when he had her undressed, he took a damp cloth and bathed her tenderly with it, trying to cool and soothe her at the same time. When she started shivering, though, he took it as a sign that she'd had enough – even though she hadn't said anything, of course – and he gently redressed her in a clean uniform, which he'd cut the right sleeve off of. He covered her warmly, and tried to get her to drink something, but she kept mumbling that she didn't want water, she wanted coffee – which was what he was trying to give her – and when she began thrashing again, Jack gave up, and just wrapped his arms around her and held her.
Daniel and Teal'c had the fire going by then, and Daniel brought him some dinner, but Jack shook his head. He wasn't hungry. He rocked her softly, certain that she wasn't going to make it through another fourteen-hour night, and determined that she wasn't going to be alone.
"Anything I can do, Jack?" Daniel asked as he came over and sat on the other side of Mitchell. Teal'c had the first watch of the night, and he had carried his staff weapon out of the range of the firelight so he could see if anything were to approach.
"No, Daniel." He brushed away a tear with his shoulder, and looked down at her mournfully. "This is the second member of the Mitchell family I've killed." He said, softly, giving in to the guilt that the pace of the day had managed to keep at bay. "I'm glad her parents aren't alive to see this..."
"You didn't kill her, Jack. She's not dead."
"She's not going to make it through the night..." Jack was giving up on her, now, Daniel saw.
"You don't know that. She's tough. Look how far she's made it so far."
"I know it. I know what she can handle and what she can't." Jack shook his head, hugging Melony even closer to himself, which elicited a gasp of pain from her. "First Michael, now her."
"Jack..." It wasn't even a whisper. It was a breathless, pain-filled murmur of sound. Both men looked down at her, but her eyes weren't open, and she wasn't giving any sign that she'd said anything. Although they both knew it hadn't been them.
"Melony?"
"My... choice... Mike's... choice..."
He sobbed, and pulled her close once more, burying his head in her uniform shirt and crying like a lost child. He didn't want to be the reason they'd died, damn it. It wasn't fair. He wasn't worth either of them.
Daniel reached his hand out and laid it on O'Neill's shoulder, giving his friend the support that Mitchell couldn't give, and wishing there was something he could say.
~*~
Teal'c heard the noise first, and turned his head towards it. They'd been on this planet and in the trees long enough that he knew what belonged, and what didn't. And the faint noise he was hearing certainly didn't belong. He saw lights bobbing on the horizon, and the noises grew louder. He raised his staff weapon, pointing it in the direction of the possible threat.
"O'Neill!"
Jack raised his head, tears streaking and smearing his face, and looked over toward the sound of Teal'c's voice. He sniffed, wiping his nose on his shoulder, and tried to see what was wrong, but he couldn't see anything in the light of the fire, and he couldn't see anything past it.
"Go see what he needs, Daniel." Jack said.
Jackson nodded and stood up, then walked over to Teal'c. He didn't need to ask, though. He just looked the same way Teal'c was looking, and when he saw the lights bobbing on the horizon as well, he turned to Jack.
"Someone's coming, Jack!"
Whether it was good guys, or bad, he wasn't sure. But it was obvious that they weren't alone, anymore.
~*~
"There's a fire!" Anderson called to the others, who were driving close, but not too close. They didn't want to get into any wrecks, and they certainly couldn't afford to damage any of their equipment. The others all saw it as well – there wasn't a whole hell of a lot of other stuff to see in the darkness, after all – and they all turned their vehicles in that direction.
It was less than twenty minutes later, when Anderson and Carter pulled to a stop, and found themselves facing the serious end of Teal'c's staff weapon and Daniel's Beretta. The two raised their hands quickly, but by then the Jaffa and the archeologist had recognized them, and the weapons were all put away. Anderson barely waited. He turned and headed towards the fire, and found that Jack O'Neill was crouched over Mitchell's body with his Beretta in his hand, his brown eyes as deadly serious as the weapon in his hand as he waited to see if there was danger to his charge or not.
"Colonel?"
Anderson moved closer, and O'Neill lowered the gun.