A warmth was spreading across his chest and his mind grew fuzzy.
His thoughts became difficult to focus on.
A part of his mind warned him that they should stop.
That there was danger here.
But he was incapable of speaking or moving.
- - -
Time passed slowly in that soggy clearing
... as the rain-shrouded evening lost its last grey light of the day
... and slipped into night.
Unnoticed by either of the two Tauri.
One lying prone.
The other kneeling by his side.
- - -
- - -
Ch 41: VIGIL
- - -
He awoke to darkness.
And a difficulty breathing.
He moved slowly.
Something was on him.
No... it was actually someone.
"Sam?" he shook her gently, but she didn't respond.
Slowly the events of the day came back to him.
The landslide.
His trip down the river.
His injuries.
Her attempt to heal him.
He fumbled for her pulse and the cold clamminess of her skin sent a tendril of fear roiling through his stomach.
Faint, very faint, but it was there.
He counted her breaths... slow... very slow.
And she was cold. Ice cold.
She was still in the cold, wet and muddy clothes from earlier in the day.
"Sam?" and there was still no response. He needed to get her in the tent and into some warm and dry. And then he remembered his injuries. 'How were they going to handle this?' he asked himself disconsolately.
Slowly he slid her off of his chest and laid her gently on the ground by his side. Experimentally, he took a deeper breath... and was shocked when there were no sharp pains from his broken ribs. Taking another deeper breath, and again not receiving any signs of sharp pains, he experimentally ran his hands over his ribs and pushed down gently. A little sore, but...the pain of the shifting bones was gone.
She'd healed his ribs!
And his arm... he slowly rotated his shoulder... again, there was only a remnant of soreness from the dislocation.
But then he remembered his legs and gritted his teeth... and tried to move his right leg.
It moved.
And he felt it!
Propping himself up on his elbows he watched his legs as he slowly moved his feet a little, looking and feeling for the damage. Sliding his hand down, he felt his hip and pushed down gently. Just that same soreness. No signs of broken bones.
She'd healed him!
He lay there for a moment in amazement.
Although the rain had stopped, a cold breeze blew gently through camp and he shivered and snapped back to the necessity of the present. He needed to get them both inside the tent and warm and dry.
Pushing himself into a more vertical sitting position, a wave of dizziness swam over him as his heart couldn't compensate for the change in position fast enough. He waited a moment and the faintness passed.
He quickly peeled her outer cold, muddy clothes off of her, leaving her in her basically dry T-shirt and underwear. Next, he swiftly moved her inside the tent and dressed her with some warm socks and a wool cap before slipping her under the covers. One thing that he'd learned about sleeping with Sam Carter was that she was warmer -and he was happier- when her feet were warm.
Finally, he slipped under the covers and wrapped her in his arms and pulled the sleeping bags tightly around them to conserve what little body heat they had left.
She lay limply in his arms.
As cold as ice.
Showing no signs of consciousness.
Her breaths were so shallow and slow, that he had to hold his own breath to feel hers.
He rubbed his hands and arms up and down her back, trying to incite her circulation.
Slowly, very slowly, the temperature under the covers warmed up.
Slowly, she warmed beside him.
He held her snugly.
Talking softly about this and that in the darkness.
She didn't reply, but he kept up the one-sided dialogue.
An hour passed.
And then another.
He didn't fall asleep.
He couldn't take the chance.
He couldn't take the chance that she'd fade away while he slept.
So he held her.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
He watched the inky darkness shade to grey as the early morning gloaming pushed back the night. He watched the tent walls become more and more visible as the light slowly increased.
She still lay limply in his arms.
Barely breathing.
But she was breathing.
And he clung to that.
With the reassurance of the dawning morning, he carefully slipped from beneath the covers and then pulled on additional clothes before heading outside for the medkit. Returning with the thermometer, he readied it and then held it in her mouth and under her tongue while she slept.
96.5 degrees.
A little on the cold side.
But not out of the normal range for someone lying prone and asleep.
He stared at her.
Wondering what was happening.
She had healed him... and now she appeared to be in some kind of deep sleep... if not a coma... but he wasn't a doctor and he didn't know what to look for.
What had allowed her to heal him?
What did she need to recuperate?
His thoughts drifted along through the questions that he didn't have answers for.
And then he shook himself back to the present.
He needed to get some hot water and food cooking.
He tucked the covers snuggly around her and with one last look, he headed outside.
- - - -
He surveyed the disarray.
Wet and muddy clothes were glued to the ground. Medical stocks were strewn around. Their supply tent was collapsed and he recognized that she'd pulled the tent poles to use for possible splints and whatever other support might have been necessary.
His eyes stopped at the stretcher-cum-travois and he realized that she'd had to drag him back to camp. He must have been unconscious for that entire trip.
His mind skipped through flashes of memory... of the ground liquefying beneath him... of the pain when something in the river slammed into him and tore him from his grip on the rope... of the tumultuous trip downriver... being pulled under... struggling to snatch a breath... slamming into trees and rocks... being pinned against the boulder... and then sliding off of it... that glimpse of Sam on the riverbank... and then... more water... and then blackness... until he woke up here, with her looking down at him.
He wondered how far he'd traveled downriver.
And how far she'd had to haul him to get back to camp.
He gingerly felt his ribs again. Sore, but definitely not broken. And he was standing and walking, so his legs and hips were definitely healed.
He assessed his present condition. Various scrapes and bruises with general achiness and soreness in assorted asundry locations. A bump on his head that was sore to the touch, but he'd definitely had worse, so he wasn't worried about that.
On the whole, all of his major injuries were healed. And she hadn't died trying to repair him. At least not yet. She seemed to be in some kind of deep sleep. All he could do was keep her warm and dry and wait for her to wake up.
Sighing, he set to starting the fire and then cleaning up. When things were put away and/or were laid out to start drying, he checked on Sam again and then turned back to the next immediate task.
Water.
They still needed water.
He fished out the last few water bottles and headed down to the river.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The scene of destruction was truly amazing.
A gaping wound was scooped out of the side of the riverbank.
The immense concave hole was the only evidence of the formerly peaceful river bank that they'd spent so many hours fishing -and napping- on.
He spied the rope that she'd tied to a tree and he pulled it up, finding the full water bottles still tied to the end. He stared at them in amazement. How had they stayed attached? Shaking his head, he walked to the edge of the landslide scarp and peered down at the river. The water level had dropped considerably overnight. The water from the quick deluge had been efficiently flushed downstream. He wondered what Jack's Lake looked like right now?
Now, the river actually looked almost peaceful.
Although still muddy, unfortunately.
Turning, he untied the muddy rope and picked up the water bottles and then headed back to camp.
- - - -
Straining the water through two 'relatively clean' t-shirts, he got as much mud out as possible and then set the water to boiling.
Repeated checks on Sam had showed no change. Similar to the morning after his fever had finally broken, she was solidly asleep.
Once he'd restocked their water supplies and forced himself to eat something, he put the fire out and rejoined her in the tent. Crawling under the covers with her, he wrapped her in his arms again.
"That was a damn-fool thing to do, Sam," he muttered to her as he finally dropped off to sleep.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
He awoke slowly.
The warmth of the sleeping bags cocooned around him.
His right arm wrapped around her.
He tightened his grip a little and took a slow breath.
Slowly the memories returned.
He pulled back a little so that he could look at her face.
She was still sound asleep.
He listened and felt for her breaths.
Still slow and even.
Checking his watch, he saw that they'd slept through lunch and that it was now 1655... approaching dinner time. With the long hours of daylight on this planet, he could afford to wait a few hours... in the hopes that she'd awaken and he could get some hot food into her.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The hours passed, however, and she showed no signs of waking up.
He worriedly continued to check her breathing, heartbeat and temperature.
And the results stayed the same.
Slow, slow, and slightly low.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
He boiled some water for hot drinks and a hot supper.
But he ate alone.
He quietly cleaned up and returned to the tent and his silent vigil over her.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The night passed uneventfully and he again awoke with her in his arms.
Hopefully, he scanned her face in the early morning light.
But he could see no change.
She still lay limply and without movement.
An idea sparked in his mind.
He rested his hand over her heart.
As she'd done with him the other afternoon.
He remembered her description of her feelings and the sensations.
He felt for her heartbeat.
Felt for the vibrations through her chest and into his palm.
So faint.
Fear washed through him again.
The vibrations were so faint, but they were there,
...and he tried to take solace from that fact.
Soft, muted thumps pressed gently against his palm.
Remembering her description, he felt for anything resembling a tingling or prickling.
But he didn't feel any such thing.
He looked at his hand.
No glow.
No green glow.
No blue glow.
No red, orange or purple glow.
No glow of any kind.
No tingling, prickling, itching or glowing.
He closed his eyes in defeat.
Perhaps it only worked one way.
Perhaps it couldn't be given back.
He wondered what 'it' was.
Energy of some sort?
Lifeforce?
He smiled faintly as he realized that his thoughts were wandering in directions usually the sole domain of one Dr. Sam Carter... and not one Jack O'Neill.
Turning his eyes back to her, he scrutinized her face again.
He could see no change from the previous day.
Worried and discouraged, he spent the early morning hours just holding her.
Finally getting up, he set to the morning tasks.
Build the fire. Boil some water. Eat something.
He policed their campsite.
Checked the alarm system.
Standing in the middle of the clearing, he looked around.
At the tents. One collapsed, one still standing.
At the stacks of supplies.
At their shelter.
His eyes traveled over the trees...over the low grass and weeds.
Up to the sky, which only had a few clouds today.
The sun was brightening the clearing quickly and he realized that things may actually get a chance to dry out thoroughly. He strung up a clothesline and quickly hung out their wet clothes and other paraphernalia.
And then his movements faded to a halt again and he stood motionless.
The quiet made his heart ache.
He ran a hand through his hair.
What would he do if she didn't come out of whatever state she was in?
The silence echoed back at him as the ache in his heart intensified.
- - -
- - -
TBC
- - -