Chapter 4

Jack didn't bother changing his clothes, he made straight for the control room where Colonel Dixon was standing in for him.

"General sir," he saluted as he heard the General approach, though he was a little startled at the General's 'rough around the edges' appearance.

Jack hurried down the stairs into the room, each clatter of his footsteps echoed violently through his head as he descended the metal treads. He mentally shook himself and made himself concentrate on the matter at hand, trying hard to ignore the sweat that was building up on the inside of his shirt and the fact that he was feeling worse for wear with each passing minute.

"Colonel. What's going on?" he asked a little breathlessly, stifling the urge to cough from the effort of rushing. His chest tightened and he did cough a little; his throat was so dry. What he needed was a cool drink of water right now. He turned to one of the white-coated technicians and ordered him to get him a paper cup of water from the cooler outside.

"SG-14 is pinned down by a couple dozen Jaffa about two miles from the gate sir. Captain Roberts managed to get back to the gate to warn us but Major Banks has been badly wounded. Pearson and Watts are holding them off for now, but he doesn't know how long they can keep the enemy at bay sir."

"Launch a UAV. Let's see what's happening out there," Jack said as Daniel joined him but kept back out of the way. "Where's Roberts now?"

"In the infirmary sir. He wasn't too happy to leave his team behind, but he was barely conscious when he came through."

Jack acknowledged this with a simple nod and another cough, hiding it quickly under his hand. He accepted the cup from the subordinate and drained the contents quickly, noting the arrival of Sam as she rushed into the room followed by Teal'c. He tossed the empty cup into the trash can.

Jack turned, swaying slightly as he greeted them, so much so that Daniel was forced to step forward and grasp his elbow in order to steady him. Jack shrugged off his help and ignored his problem, his mind fixed solely on getting help to his men that were pinned down.

Sam was a little disconcerted to see Jack's ashen features and the fact that Daniel had to practically hold him upright just now, but he was barking out orders to her before she could voice her concern.

"Colonel," he ordered. "Get SG-1 ready to leave on the rescue mission, and I want SG-3 and SG-9 to go with you. Daniel stays behind."

"What?" Daniel cried in protest, letting go of Jack in the process. "Jack…? You can't..."

"Yes I can and I just did."

Sam glanced across at Daniel and then back to Jack in surprise.

"Sir?" she asked puzzled as to why Daniel wouldn't be going.

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment fighting off his headache before turning to look at his friend.

"Daniel you have a hangover. I can't risk sending you out in the field like that. You'd be a danger to yourself let alone your team-mates. No. You can keep in touch with them from this end."

"But...?"

"Daniel!" Jack snapped and had to rub his forehead to ease the pain that spiked there.

Daniel could see Jack wasn't faring too well at all, he could now see the sweat beading upon his brow and over his upper lip, so he accepted Jack's orders for now albeit begrudgingly, and purely on the basis that he could keep an eye on his friend here at the SGC.

"Carter. You have your orders!" Jack stated wondering why she was dithering.

"Yes sir," she snapped off smartly, not at all liking the fact that he seemed unwell, but, orders were orders. "We'll be ready in 15."

Jack nodded and turned back, holding onto the back of the technician's chair to watch Siler and his crew in the gate-room prepare the UAV ready for launch.

A few moments later the first images were being screened and Jack could plainly see that his team would soon be overrun by the Jaffa. He couldn't make out who's Jaffa they were but whoever they belonged to, they were close to victory. Jack grabbed the mike, steadying himself against the desk at the same time.

"SGs' 1, 3 and 9, You have a go. Bring em back kids!"

"Yes sir," Sam said determinedly with a salute. She led the combined team up the ramp and disappeared into the event horizon.

Jack watched them go, watched through a fog as the gate shut down, then slowly straightened up from where he was leaning over the desk to reach the microphone. He stood still for a moment then overcome with more dizziness than he could handle, he momentarily swayed on his feet then staggered a couple of steps before his legs gave way and he found himself collapsing to the floor.

"Jack!" Daniel yelled suddenly, jumping to his friend's aid.

Colonel Dave Dixon swung round in time to see Jack's knees buckle.

Both Daniel and Dixon managed to catch him before he could fall and hurt himself in the limited space of the control room, and they gently stretched him out on the floor while Dave took charge of the SGC once more.

Jack's glassy eyes were open but Daniel could see they weren't focussing on anything. He called out to him, but it was as if Jack couldn't hear him. He gave Jack a quick going over, while a shocked Walter called for an emergency medical team.

Daniel noted a rapid but thready pulse; fever; chills; shallow noisy breaths; clammy skin. What the hell was wrong with Jack? He wondered. He certainly couldn't have a hangover like he had surely.

"Jack? Jack?" he called again, placing his palm against Jack's flushed cheek hoping to rouse his friend so he coulddiscover why he had collapsed. "He's burning up," he confirmed when his hand felt the heat radiate from Jack's face at his touch.

Jack couldn't breathe, his chest hurt, his head hurt, everything hurt. He was cold and yet he was hot; so dizzy too. His vision wavered and he could no longer make out the shapes hovering over him. He could hear something; someone talking to him; they sounded like they were calling him from afar but he couldn't make any sense of it at all. He felt a hand cup his cheek before his vision darkened and the world around him swirled away and he knew no more.

Daniel watched as Jack's eyelids fluttered and slowly closed; his eyes rolling upwards as he lost consciousness. Daniel felt utterly helpless to do anything. There was a lot of flu going round, so perhaps Jack had caught a really bad dose of it. He'd been ill all day he supposed, and now he thought about it, it couldn't possibly be a hangover like he had, Jack had hardly touched any beer last night, had he? Had he been drinking after he himself had crashed out? He wished he could remember, but everything was just a hazy blur; he couldn't even recall Jack putting him to bed as he'd said he'd done, let alone whatever happened afterwards.

A few minutes later Dr. Brightman and her team rushed into the room, gently pushing Daniel aside.

"What happened here?" she demanded, kneeling beside the General, pulling his shirt up in order to place her stethoscope onto his chest.

"I knew he wasn't feeling too good earlier, then he just...collapsed," Daniel explained, still in shock. He stood watching closely but out of her way while she assessed Jack's condition. She barked several orders at her staff then they all helped to lift Jack onto a gurney. An oxygen mask was placed over the General's nose and mouth and then they rushed him away to the infirmary.

Daniel paced the floor; he'd been unable to settle to his given task and in the end Colonel Dixon had sent him off to wait outside the infirmary while he assigned someone else to run communications between the teams and the SGC.

The doors swung open and Daniel was suddenly facing Dr. Brightman. He stepped forward to meet her, his anxiety written plainly on his face, which fell when he noticed the Doctor was looking worried.

"How is he?"

"Well, it's not the Flu that's for sure. I won't beat about the bush, it's not looking good at all Dr. Jackson. You were with him, yes? Can you tell me anything about how he was feeling?"

"I don't know, I'm not sure. We went out for a drink last night, but I don't think he drank much of anything. He did look rather hung over this morning though as if he'd had a bad night. He said he didn't like the beer we tried; said it tasted terrible...well, in his words, it tasted like crap, but that's about it. I can't tell you if he had anything after we got home," he said apologetically, "he… er...kinda had to put me to bed in the spare room. I...um... the beer went straight to my head," he admitted colouring up in embarrassment.

Dr. Brightman nodded with a little smile, knowing what it cost the archaeologist to admit he was drunk. She waited for him to finish.

"He did look rough this morning, pale, washed out and to my eyes a little flushed too, like he had a fever but he wouldn't admit to it. I think we both slept after we had some toast and coffee; that was all we could manage after last night. The phone call from the SGC actually woke us up. He never said a thing. He just said he'd be fine when I asked if he was up to this. Are you sure it isn't this flu bug that's going around?"

"I wish it was, Dr. Jackson. There are several anomalies in his blood right now that I have no idea what they are or how they could have gotten there."

"Do you think it was that beer? I mean, maybe he just reacted badly to it."

"It's a possibility and one I will have to look into. Can you give me the brand name and where you bought it?"

"Ah, yeah sure." Daniel nodded.

"Thank you Dr. Jackson. I'd appreciate it."

"Can I see him?"

"He's still unconscious but sure. I'll get the labs working on this right away. He hasn't been off-world lately has he?" she asked as an after thought. As far as she knew he hadn't but she needed to make sure.

"No. Not since he took over as General."

Brightman sighed, well that was one thing she could rule out of her research.

"Okay Dr. Jackson, you can go in now," she said with a brief smile; she had a lot of work to do to find out just why the General was ill.

Daniel gave her a similar smile and entered the private room. Pulling a chair over to the bed so that he could sit beside his friend.

Jack was pale, and so inert, almost lifeless; the only movement detectable was that of his chest as he breathed with the aid of the oxygen mask. Daniel was thankful that he didn't need the help of a respirator to breathe. That was another small mercy. It was strange and a little unnerving too, to see Jack so still; he was always so active; even in rest and in his sleep his fingers and limbs still twitched, but there was nothing; nothing to indicate that Jack O'Neill was alive in that immobile shell except the slow rise and fall of his chest and the fog of breath inside the mask as he exhaled.

He reached out and touched Jack's left hand it was warmer than it was earlier, though still a little clammy, and there were more beads of perspiration on Jack's brow. Without thinking about it, he stood automatically, wringing out the cloth from the tepid water on the nightstand and then mopped his friend's face gently, cooling him off. Jack seemed to lean into it which pleased Daniel, knowing that Jack was still with them, albeit unconsciously.

An hour later a nurse came in and carried out various tests on the General; blood pressure, temperature, kidney output; Daniel watched not really understanding everything she was doing, but knowing it was for Jack's benefit. She grimaced a little as she made notes on his chart and Daniel wondered what it was that she had spotted.

"What is it?" he asked with a worried frown.

The nurse bit her bottom lip as she made herself check over the results again. She gave him a weak smile.

"His temperature has risen again Dr. Jackson, that's all," she tried to sound as if it was to be expected, just to assure him, but he could see that she was worried too and that she would have to report it to the Doctor.

"But that's bad right?"

"Well, that depends. It means he's fighting the infection or virus or whatever this is."

"But...?"

"But we don't know what's causing it yet."

Daniel slumped back in his chair. He had no idea what Jack had contracted but whatever it was, it had certainly knocked him for six.

TBC