Hammond had told them they weren't allowed in the infirmary, but he hadn't
denied them access to the corridor outside the infirmary, and that was
where Anderson and O'Neill found themselves waiting. They were joined by
Carter, Teal'c and Daniel – all of whom were somber and worried as well –
and anyone who passed the sober group felt all the cheer just seep out of
them at the sight.
Jack was standing right by the door, leaning on the wall and staring at the ground as he tried to listen to what was going on inside the room. He could hear the murmur of voices, but he didn't know whose voice it was, or what was being said, and it was frustrating him. Anderson was on the floor, almost right at Jack's feet. His legs were just too tired and sore from the long run he'd made to be able to hold him up, or let him pace – which was what he'd originally been doing. He, too, was trying to hear what was going on, and with no better luck.
Carter was sitting next to Anderson, and was leaning back against the wall, her eyes closed. Jack would have thought she was asleep if not for the constant movement of her hands, which were practically wringing each other nervously as she waited as well. She didn't know Mitchell well, but she liked what she'd learned of her and about her, and besides, the Colonel was important to Jack O'Neill – who Carter DID love and know well. Not to mention she wanted to be there for Anderson, who was looking so drawn and haggard that Sam was amazed he was even still awake. She'd have thought he'd have passed out long before if not for his concern, and Sam would every now and then rest her hand on his leg, comfortingly, so he'd remember he wasn't alone in this time of worry.
Teal'c and Daniel had the other side of the door from Jack covered. Daniel was in almost the exact mirror position of O'Neill; his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, and a concerned expression on his face. Teal'c looked as though he were ready to break down the door any minute. Of course, Teal'c always looked so serious anyways that you never really knew what he was feeling or thinking unless you knew him well, but the almost constant frown he sported was even more pronounced as he waited with his teammates to find out the fate of one of their own.
Along the hallway, the rest of the off-duty personnel of the SGC were also waiting to find out what was going on. The SG teams as well as the security personnel were all quiet as well, and they were all brooding and burdened with thoughts of worst-case scenarios – even though no one spoke of them aloud.
It was more than an hour later when the door opened and Janet Fraiser walked out. She stopped when she saw the amount of people waiting – Melony was, after all, popular and well-loved – then beckoned Anderson and SG-1 into the room. The others would have to wait.
Jacob was standing at the head of the bed they'd put Mitchell in, and the Tok'ra looked as somber as the rest of them felt, which was a bad sign as far as Jack was concerned. Hammond was there as well, although the General was out of the way, watching quietly as they all filed in.
"Did you get her stable?" Anderson asked, softly, his blue eyes going to his Commanding Officer, who looked far paler than the sheet she was lying on.
Fraiser shook her head, her eyes haunted. She hated giving bad news, and felt the same aching failure that she did every time her medical experience just wasn't enough to combat an injury that was beyond her. Such as this one.
"I can't get her to stabilize. Her blood pressure's dropping, her pulse rate is slowing, and whatever else this poison's doing to her, it appears her organs are starting to shut down, now, too. The machines aren't going to be able to keep up for long."
"She's dying, then?" Jack asked, his eyes bleak.
"Dad? You've never seen it, either?" Carter asked, running her hand along Brad Anderson's back, since she could see the man looked about to go into shock.
Jacob shook his head. Even he looked distraught, and he didn't know Mitchell at all. "I could probably eventually simulate an antidote – given enough time – but she doesn't have very much time, and by then it'd be too late. I even tried using your Goa'uld healing device, but it didn't even slow it down."
"There's nothing we can do?" Anderson asked, helplessly, bowing his head under the weight of his grief. There HAD to be something. Anything.
"A sarcophagus." Jacob said.
"Which we don't have," Jack reminded him, his voice dead as he walked over and rested his hand on Mitchell's left arm. The right one was bandaged from hand to shoulder – and Fraiser had removed the cast. Jack wondered if he should have removed the cast, himself, and he knew he was going to be plagued with what-ifs for the rest of his life.
"A symbiote?" Daniel asked, unsure what kind of reaction that was going to bring, but feeling that someone had to bring it up.
Anderson's head came up, and he looked at Jacob, who looked at Jack. Anderson looked at Jack as well. O'Neill paled. That wasn't an option he wanted to consider. He wanted an antidote, damn it. An easy way out that didn't require them making a decision that would change Mitchell's life forever.
"Would a symbiote be able to heal her this far along?" Sam asked Jacob.
"Yes," he said, carefully, keeping his voice as neutral as he could. As far as he was concerned, the only thing – short of a sarcophagus – that could save the ailing Colonel was to get her a symbiote to blend with her. "A poison is far easier to deal with from the inside out."
"Colonel?" Sam looked at Jack, who bit his lower lip, and shook his head.
"I don't know..."
"She respects the Tok'ra," Anderson said softly, looking down at the still figure in the bed. He wasn't convinced that a symbiote was the way to go, either, but Anderson didn't have quite the same prejudices that Jack did, and he was probably more willing to consider it than O'Neill was. All Jack could think of was Kowalski, and how his friend had been taken over by the snake that had invaded the first leader of SG-2. He was having trouble thinking past that to Jacob Carter, who truly benefited from the snake in his head.
"Is it something she'd want?" Jacob asked, softly. This wasn't something to be decided quickly. Unfortunately, in this case it had to be. They were losing precious time.
"I don't know."
Jack was trying to be impartial. And trying to look beyond the fact that if he allowed a blending with a symbiote, then she'd live, and it wouldn't be his fault that she was dead. Of course, he also knew that if she lived because of the symbiote, then there was a very real chance that she might have preferred to die, and would hate or resent him the rest of her life – which would be far longer than the normal course of a regular human's life. He just didn't know, and the indecision was so plain to see in his eyes and expression that Sam felt her heart go out to him.
"There's no way we can wake her up enough to ask her?" Anderson asked.
Fraiser shook her head. She wasn't going to wake up again. Not on her own, anyways.
Jack wished he could pinch himself and wake up from this horrible nightmare. This just couldn't be happening to him. To her. He scowled, but it wasn't the angry scowl, it was the one he wore when he was perplexed, or puzzling over something, and he sighed. There wasn't a choice. Not really. He looked over at Anderson, who knew Melony as well as he did – maybe better – and saw in the clear blue eyes of the Major's gaze that the younger man had already come to the same conclusion. They couldn't lose her. Not like this.
"Do you know of a symbiote that's available?" Jack asked Jacob without looking away from Anderson's gaze. "A good one?"
Whatever that was supposed to mean, he thought to himself. But he saw Anderson nod, almost imperceptibly, and he knew the younger man understood what he meant, even if Jacob and the others didn't.
"I can find one, Jack." Jacob said. There were always symbiotes who needed new hosts, and Jacob already could think of one in particular that the Tok'ra were closed to losing and couldn't afford to lose.
"Better go get it." Jack said, still not turning from the young Major. Anderson nodded his agreement, his own expression still bleak, but a determined set to his jaw line showing O'Neill that he was going to stand behind the decision.
"Are you sure?"
Jack nodded.
"George?"
She was under Hammond's chain of command, after all, and Jacob knew the General actually had the final say. Hammond nodded. O'Neill and Anderson knew Mitchell best, and if the two of them were willing, then he was, as well. He trusted their opinions, and knew they were making the best choice they could in a situation where there really wasn't any choice to make.
"I'll need to use the Gate, then," Jacob said, heading for the door. The decision made, they really didn't have any time to waste.
"I'll go with you," Sam said, following him out. Teal'c and Daniel went as well, followed by Hammond, leaving Fraiser alone with Anderson and O'Neill, and her patient. Janet couldn't even imagine what the two men were going through, but she decided they should have a minute to themselves, and she excused herself from the room, although she didn't go beyond the door, in case she was needed.
Jack was standing right by the door, leaning on the wall and staring at the ground as he tried to listen to what was going on inside the room. He could hear the murmur of voices, but he didn't know whose voice it was, or what was being said, and it was frustrating him. Anderson was on the floor, almost right at Jack's feet. His legs were just too tired and sore from the long run he'd made to be able to hold him up, or let him pace – which was what he'd originally been doing. He, too, was trying to hear what was going on, and with no better luck.
Carter was sitting next to Anderson, and was leaning back against the wall, her eyes closed. Jack would have thought she was asleep if not for the constant movement of her hands, which were practically wringing each other nervously as she waited as well. She didn't know Mitchell well, but she liked what she'd learned of her and about her, and besides, the Colonel was important to Jack O'Neill – who Carter DID love and know well. Not to mention she wanted to be there for Anderson, who was looking so drawn and haggard that Sam was amazed he was even still awake. She'd have thought he'd have passed out long before if not for his concern, and Sam would every now and then rest her hand on his leg, comfortingly, so he'd remember he wasn't alone in this time of worry.
Teal'c and Daniel had the other side of the door from Jack covered. Daniel was in almost the exact mirror position of O'Neill; his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, and a concerned expression on his face. Teal'c looked as though he were ready to break down the door any minute. Of course, Teal'c always looked so serious anyways that you never really knew what he was feeling or thinking unless you knew him well, but the almost constant frown he sported was even more pronounced as he waited with his teammates to find out the fate of one of their own.
Along the hallway, the rest of the off-duty personnel of the SGC were also waiting to find out what was going on. The SG teams as well as the security personnel were all quiet as well, and they were all brooding and burdened with thoughts of worst-case scenarios – even though no one spoke of them aloud.
It was more than an hour later when the door opened and Janet Fraiser walked out. She stopped when she saw the amount of people waiting – Melony was, after all, popular and well-loved – then beckoned Anderson and SG-1 into the room. The others would have to wait.
Jacob was standing at the head of the bed they'd put Mitchell in, and the Tok'ra looked as somber as the rest of them felt, which was a bad sign as far as Jack was concerned. Hammond was there as well, although the General was out of the way, watching quietly as they all filed in.
"Did you get her stable?" Anderson asked, softly, his blue eyes going to his Commanding Officer, who looked far paler than the sheet she was lying on.
Fraiser shook her head, her eyes haunted. She hated giving bad news, and felt the same aching failure that she did every time her medical experience just wasn't enough to combat an injury that was beyond her. Such as this one.
"I can't get her to stabilize. Her blood pressure's dropping, her pulse rate is slowing, and whatever else this poison's doing to her, it appears her organs are starting to shut down, now, too. The machines aren't going to be able to keep up for long."
"She's dying, then?" Jack asked, his eyes bleak.
"Dad? You've never seen it, either?" Carter asked, running her hand along Brad Anderson's back, since she could see the man looked about to go into shock.
Jacob shook his head. Even he looked distraught, and he didn't know Mitchell at all. "I could probably eventually simulate an antidote – given enough time – but she doesn't have very much time, and by then it'd be too late. I even tried using your Goa'uld healing device, but it didn't even slow it down."
"There's nothing we can do?" Anderson asked, helplessly, bowing his head under the weight of his grief. There HAD to be something. Anything.
"A sarcophagus." Jacob said.
"Which we don't have," Jack reminded him, his voice dead as he walked over and rested his hand on Mitchell's left arm. The right one was bandaged from hand to shoulder – and Fraiser had removed the cast. Jack wondered if he should have removed the cast, himself, and he knew he was going to be plagued with what-ifs for the rest of his life.
"A symbiote?" Daniel asked, unsure what kind of reaction that was going to bring, but feeling that someone had to bring it up.
Anderson's head came up, and he looked at Jacob, who looked at Jack. Anderson looked at Jack as well. O'Neill paled. That wasn't an option he wanted to consider. He wanted an antidote, damn it. An easy way out that didn't require them making a decision that would change Mitchell's life forever.
"Would a symbiote be able to heal her this far along?" Sam asked Jacob.
"Yes," he said, carefully, keeping his voice as neutral as he could. As far as he was concerned, the only thing – short of a sarcophagus – that could save the ailing Colonel was to get her a symbiote to blend with her. "A poison is far easier to deal with from the inside out."
"Colonel?" Sam looked at Jack, who bit his lower lip, and shook his head.
"I don't know..."
"She respects the Tok'ra," Anderson said softly, looking down at the still figure in the bed. He wasn't convinced that a symbiote was the way to go, either, but Anderson didn't have quite the same prejudices that Jack did, and he was probably more willing to consider it than O'Neill was. All Jack could think of was Kowalski, and how his friend had been taken over by the snake that had invaded the first leader of SG-2. He was having trouble thinking past that to Jacob Carter, who truly benefited from the snake in his head.
"Is it something she'd want?" Jacob asked, softly. This wasn't something to be decided quickly. Unfortunately, in this case it had to be. They were losing precious time.
"I don't know."
Jack was trying to be impartial. And trying to look beyond the fact that if he allowed a blending with a symbiote, then she'd live, and it wouldn't be his fault that she was dead. Of course, he also knew that if she lived because of the symbiote, then there was a very real chance that she might have preferred to die, and would hate or resent him the rest of her life – which would be far longer than the normal course of a regular human's life. He just didn't know, and the indecision was so plain to see in his eyes and expression that Sam felt her heart go out to him.
"There's no way we can wake her up enough to ask her?" Anderson asked.
Fraiser shook her head. She wasn't going to wake up again. Not on her own, anyways.
Jack wished he could pinch himself and wake up from this horrible nightmare. This just couldn't be happening to him. To her. He scowled, but it wasn't the angry scowl, it was the one he wore when he was perplexed, or puzzling over something, and he sighed. There wasn't a choice. Not really. He looked over at Anderson, who knew Melony as well as he did – maybe better – and saw in the clear blue eyes of the Major's gaze that the younger man had already come to the same conclusion. They couldn't lose her. Not like this.
"Do you know of a symbiote that's available?" Jack asked Jacob without looking away from Anderson's gaze. "A good one?"
Whatever that was supposed to mean, he thought to himself. But he saw Anderson nod, almost imperceptibly, and he knew the younger man understood what he meant, even if Jacob and the others didn't.
"I can find one, Jack." Jacob said. There were always symbiotes who needed new hosts, and Jacob already could think of one in particular that the Tok'ra were closed to losing and couldn't afford to lose.
"Better go get it." Jack said, still not turning from the young Major. Anderson nodded his agreement, his own expression still bleak, but a determined set to his jaw line showing O'Neill that he was going to stand behind the decision.
"Are you sure?"
Jack nodded.
"George?"
She was under Hammond's chain of command, after all, and Jacob knew the General actually had the final say. Hammond nodded. O'Neill and Anderson knew Mitchell best, and if the two of them were willing, then he was, as well. He trusted their opinions, and knew they were making the best choice they could in a situation where there really wasn't any choice to make.
"I'll need to use the Gate, then," Jacob said, heading for the door. The decision made, they really didn't have any time to waste.
"I'll go with you," Sam said, following him out. Teal'c and Daniel went as well, followed by Hammond, leaving Fraiser alone with Anderson and O'Neill, and her patient. Janet couldn't even imagine what the two men were going through, but she decided they should have a minute to themselves, and she excused herself from the room, although she didn't go beyond the door, in case she was needed.