Thanks for the reviews. And a special thanks to Jeril Dragonsoul for pointing out the mistake. After two betas and countless re readings of my own I'm always amazed at how many really obvious mistakes I find (or in this case, don;t find) after I've posted a fic.

I should have prefaced this fic with the fact that it was written for the Jackfic group Jackfic-athon. Those of us participating were given plot bunnies to write, and this is the result of the one I was given. I'll put the plot bunny at the end of the story. If you want to read the other stories, they are all on the Jackfic archive.

One other small thing - I don't write ship, or crossovers. I also don't write death fics - although I love reading them. I write humour, darkjack, and even the occasional slash story, but I mainly write gen whumpers. Not to say I will never write ship or crossovers, because I certainly read them, but at the moment I have enough plots in the other categories running around in my head to last for years. Oh - I also complete and post the whole story elsewhere before I post it here, so, sorry - can't change any of the plot elements.

Thanks again for the reviews - on with the story.

Flatkatsi

Part Four

They turned a corner of the trail, finally out of sight of the soldiers standing watching them. They had been followed to this point, as if to be sure they did not try and return to the city, although that was the last place any of them wanted to visit again, but now, at last, it seemed they were to make the rest of the journey alone. Daniel could barely put one foot in front of the other, his exhaustion overwhelming. The walk to this point, the emotional turmoil he was in and the lack of sleep all combined to numb both his mind and body. There was no hurry. No need to rush. No point in one of them racing ahead to request a medical team be ready.

Teal'c didn't look any more tired than he had when he first woken the morning before, even carrying Jack's body, but Daniel knew that the determined Jaffa must be near the end of his energy after so many hours without kel-no-reem. The sound of the stumbling footsteps at his side told their own tale, Daniel not needing to look to see his own exhaustion reflected in Sam's face. He steeled himself, knowing that Sam would soon order them to stop so they could check Jack, pointless though it was. He cringed inwardly at the thought of what he knew they would see. Just a few minutes more…they needed to be certain the soldiers would not follow.

He found his gaze held by the pale hand he could just see hanging from where it had escaped Teal'c weakening grip, the gashes etched down each finger running slow drops of blood that splattered onto the lush undergrowth beneath their feet. He looked down, realising he was treading on a trail of red, and took a step to the side to avoid it.

Jack's blood.

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The knife had been sharp, designed especially for this work, its handle the shape of a crouching god, eyes painted gold against the black. His assistants had held Jack down as the High Priest had carved slowly through the skin, holding him still, not because he struggled, but because, by the end, he shook uncontrollably, shock sending messages to his overloaded nerves. They had placed a piece of wood between his teeth when he began to scream, dulling his cries down to whimpers, but the slice deep down across his belly made him arch his back, the force throwing off one of the younger priests, the one holding his left leg. And, even as far gone as he was by then, he had lashed out, almost knocking a smoking torch from its stand.

They held him firmer then, as the priest continued his ritual and his team had watched on, repulsed by the brutality of it.

His blood had flowed freely into the drains.

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Jack's blood!

Daniel's head snapped up and he pushed himself forward, catching up with Teal'c in a few strides. His teammates stopped, looking at him in puzzlement, but he didn't say anything – just held out a trembling hand and pulled aside the feathered clock, holding a finger to Jack's neck.

Daniel gasped. It couldn't be, but it was there – a faint pulse throbbing against his fingers, confirming to him that a man still bleeding after several hours could not be dead.

"Oh, god! He's alive."

"He can't be." Sam shook her head, stepping up to put a hand on Daniel's arm, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Daniel, he can't be – we saw Yetzolt …" She stopped, obviously unable to continue.

"Look!" Daniel pointed to the blood dripping onto the ground. "He is. Jack's alive. I don't know how, but he is."

Sam looked down, seeing the evidence for herself, at the same time as Teal'c dropped to his knees, placing the Colonel on the ground. All three stilled for a fraction of a second, before Daniel wrenched the cloak open, exposing O'Neill's chest. The gaping hole they expected to see wasn't there; instead they found a wound, one of many marring his body.

"I…I don't understand…."

Teal'c yanked his pack off his back, pulling out a medical kit. "I do not understand it either, Captain Carter, but I do know that we must tend O'Neill's injuries or this miracle will be for nothing."

Grabbing a pressure bandage, Daniel pressed it to Jack's abdomen, holding it in place, but his eyes roamed over the figure beneath his hands. "Where do we start? We've got to get him home."

"I know, but Teal'c's right, we have to stop the bleeding first. We're still several hours from the gate." She wound a bandage around the Colonel's leg as she spoke. "We should get off the trail. I don't think Yetzolt would be very happy to see the Colonel was still alive."

"I'm not too sure about that, Sam. Look at how shallow most of these cuts are. I think they're designed to cause the victim to bleed to death over a long period of time. Maybe the longer he takes to die, the more life force feeds the gods."

Sam glanced anxiously back down the path towards the city. "That's a risk I'm not prepared to take. Let's get under cover in those trees."

It only took a few minutes for them to find a suitable spot to hide, close enough to the trail to watch for any locals, but well concealed in a small dip behind large trees. They broke out their sleeping bags to make as soft a surface as possible on which to lay the Colonel and bandaged his injuries as best they could. Sam was pleased to find that, as Daniel had noted, most of the cuts, although painful, were not too deep. However, at least two were serious – the one across his stomach, and the wound in his chest. O'Neill's pulse was thready and his skin was cold, the signs of shock unmistakable. They did what they could - cocooning the Colonel in the sleeping bags for warmth – but he needed urgent medical attention.

Sam made the decision, ordering Daniel back to the SGC to fetch help. She needed Teal'c with her, able to carry O'Neill if need be, and there was no way in hell she was going to leave. She was in command now, and she was staying, so with a final look down at the friend he had given up for dead already that day, Daniel set off, running, his tiredness forgotten.

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The knife was raised high above Yetzolt's head, and brought down in one swift motion, stabbing into Jack's chest. O'Neill jerked and shuddered in the grip of the priests, his eyes wide. Sheathing the knife in the elaborate golden scabbard at his waist, the High Priest reached forward, pushing his hand into the chest of the man beneath him. For one brief moment Jack's eyes and the priest's met, then, with a grunt of effort, he tore the living heart out of his victim, holding it high and dripping, as the light died from the staring eyes.

And Colonel O'Neill's team watched, seeing only the death of a friend.

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Jack O'Neill wasn't a simple man. He often pondered the mystery of life. The question of his place in the universe and his reason for being had often held him enthralled as he looked up into the starry nights of many distant planets. He had decided long ago that he had done only what he saw was right, and tried his best to live by his principles, such as they were. His role was to defend and protect, and although he had failed in it when it most counted, since his son's death he had found a new path – one he trod with pride, friends beside him.

And now he was being torn from them, sucked away into the dark, and he knew that wasn't right. He didn't deserve this fate, and he would do as he always had, protest in the face of injustice, fight with everything he had.

This wasn't where he was meant to be.

This wasn't fair at all.

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"This is impossible, Teal'c. We saw the Colonel die."

"And yet he still lives."

"But how?"

"Perhaps what we thought we saw was not what actually occurred."

Sam waved her hand towards the still figure lying on the ground at her knees. "This certainly seems real." She had just taken the Colonel's pulse, and barely been able to feel it. He had shown no sign of waking, even when together they had wiped the worst of the blood from him, Teal'c handling the more delicate areas. Sam had winced and turned away, not because of any queasiness, but in an effort to preserve some of her CO's dignity, knowing what a private man like he would feel in these circumstances.

"Did you not say that the old practices had died out? You mentioned a ritual relating to sending energy to the gods."

Sam nodded. "Yes, and that's what I don't understand. The documents were quite clear on that. Sacrificing by cutting out hearts was something the newer works saw as old fashioned and barbaric." She paused, thinking. "The new ritual, sending energy to the gods, they've developed that since their arrival on this planet…maybe that's the answer."

"How so?"

She frowned in response. "Obviously what we saw wasn't possible. The Colonel's alive, so it must have been an illusion." She shuddered. "A pretty graphic one admittedly. We saw the priest put his hand into the Colonel's chest."

"No, Captain Carter, we did not. All we saw was him placing his hand on O'Neill's chest, then hold up something we took to be a heart. Are there not people on your own planet that create the illusion of removing cancerous growths from the body without use of surgical instruments?"

"That's true." She considered his words before continuing. "But why? And it certainly looked like the Colonel died. There was more to it than just an illusion."

"The natives of this planet say they do not follow the old customs, and yet they slaughter their own people in ways we find abhorrent. From what Daniel Jackson has explained these closely parallel the rituals of their Aztec ancestors. The only difference I can see is that they no longer actually cut the heart from their victims, only pretending to do so. Perhaps they have found a more efficient way to perform this part of the ceremony whilst still retaining the spectacle?"

"The dream reader! That's it!" Sam shut her eyes in an effort to visualise the codices she had read. "It was some sort of technology - that much was obvious. I was going to ask Setztunl about it today. It involved the transfer of energy, and sounded rather similar to a Goa'uld healing device, except the energy was transferred from the person the reader was being used on, not the other way around." She opened her eyes, and raised them to look at her companion. "If it was a form of energy transference, then we have no way of knowing the effects it had on the Colonel." She gulped, a sudden thought sending shivers down her spine. "Or the effects it is still having." Grabbing one of her instruments from her pack, she pointed it at O'Neill's body. "Damn! There's a strong energy reading." She stood, turning the machine outwards. "It's coming from the direction of the city."

"That is why they did not concern themselves with our leaving. This dream reader machine is still able to take energy from O'Neill even at a distance." Teal'c got to his feet, shouldering his pack as he did so. "We must take O'Neill from this place as quickly as possible."

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Slowly, inexorably he felt himself slipping away, sinking down.

He shouldn't be going down.

He was sure up was the direction he was meant to be taking.

There was a bad down, and a good up, and up was the only option as far as he was concerned.

Piece by piece he was being eaten away, but he was going up fighting. Up. That was it – up.

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