A new universe. A new room. The air against Mitchell's face was no longer freezing, but he was cold, chilled to the core. His head felt foggy, but one thought was still clear as crystal. He had to know if all had made it through. He had to know if everyone was alive.
"Teal'c?"
"I am here."
"Sam?"
"Mmmh... Yeah," her answer was vague, sounding like someone who was half-asleep and didn't want to wake up. But she was alive.
"Daniel?"
No answer. Mitchell forced his frozen hand to move. He knew Jackson was the one resting against his right side. With all the fabric they had wrapped themselves in, it wasn't easy to maneuver his hand into Jackson's sleeping bag. In the meantime, he went on asking,
"Eilerson?"
"Someone call the cryo technician, please..." he mumbled.
"Who's nearest to Galen?"
"I can see to him, Colonel Mitchell," Teal'c answered.
Mitchell had managed to get his fingers to Jackson's neck, but they were so cold-numb that he couldn't feel anything at all. Couldn't tell if it was just him, or if there really was nothing to feel.
Holding his breath, he reached a bit further, placing his hand on Jackson's icy chest. It felt like a ridiculous idea to begin with that anyone so cold could be still alive. Yet he was. Mitchell felt one beat, and after a second that felt like an hour, another, so very slow, but steady. More than that, he felt that frozen chest rise and fall slightly. Jackson was breathing. He was alive. Maybe just barely, but alive nevertheless.
When Teal'c informed him that "Galen is alive, but again unconscious and unresponsive," Mitchell couldn't help smiling a bit. All here, all alive. If they'd survived that, surely they'd be able to get out. Soon. Very soon. And now that he knew that, he could close his eyes and rest for a while. Not sleep. He couldn't sleep, not now, not when they were all lying in a heap in front of the Veraeda, probably seriously hypothermic, and more and worse than that when it came to Jackson and Galen.
He knew he shouldn't sleep.
And before he realized it, he'd drifted into a deep, dreamless slumber.
Day Four
Mitchell had grown vaguely aware of the annoying feeling that his right hand was a lot warmer than his left. His left foot had fallen asleep because a heavy weight lay on it, and something hard was pressed against his shoulder.
With a start, he realized why, and was instantly wide awake. He shouldn't have fallen asleep. He had no idea how long he had slept. Carter's elbow was digging into his shoulder, and Eilerson's feet rested on his. His right hand was still on Jackson's chest, which was no longer icy, but burning hot. The slow, weak but steady heartbeat had given way to alarmingly fast pounding. And there wasn't much he could do about it.
Mitchell pulled his hand away and climbed up, disentangling himself both from the people and the fabrics that had kept them warm. He wasn't cold anymore, so maybe sleeping had been a good thing, but he had wasted time, his headache was worse, and he felt a bit dizzy. It looked like everyone else was still asleep, except for Teal'c, who was sitting next to Galen.
"T--why didn't you wake me up?"
"I attempted to do so several times, and received no answer, except for approximately one hour ago, when you told me to 'Bug off'."
He really didn't remember doing that. "Right. So I slept for over an hour?"
"Several hours. The others have been asleep as well. I forced myself to remain awake so I could be certain all were well."
"But they're not."
"I am greatly concerned for both Daniel Jackson and Galen. At one time, I was afraid Galen might have stopped breathing, but he resumed on his own. Still, he has not shown any signs of regaining consciousness, and he remains colder than is normal. As for Daniel Jackson, his body temperature has been climbing steadily higher, and he has spoken in his sleep, but I could not make out what he was saying."
Mitchell was greatly concerned for both of them as well. He'd known this would be bad for Galen, since they'd forced him to wake up too soon and to power up the device again before he'd fully recovered from the previous time. Now he only hoped they wouldn't need to use it again, since he was pretty sure that'd be the last time for the techno-mage. And Jackson... Mitchell couldn't know what exactly was wrong with him without Galen's help, but it definitely didn't look good.
As for the rest, it was about time they woke up.
"Teal'c, we need to get out. Since I'm all right, maybe we can suppose Eilerson is, too. Let's wake him up. And Sam as well."
"Indeed. But before that, there is also something in this room that you should see."
For the first time, Mitchell turned his eyes away from his team and looked at the room. The walls. The roof. Jeez. He'd never understood people who were seriously claustrophobic, but this place made him sympathize with them. The walls were too near. He could just imagine them closing in on them. He shook his head and concentrated on things other than the walls.
This room was different from the three previous ones, which had been mostly empty. It looked exactly like the first room, the one in their own universe. There were tables around the Veraeda, and there was a lot of stuff on them, just like he remembered. But there was something else, things on the floor that hadn't existed in the first room. Four piles of clothes, awfully familiar in design. SGC uniforms, with bones sticking out of the sleeves, and skulls with empty eye sockets staring right at Mitchell. A pair of glasses rested on the floor next to one of them.
He covered the distance to them on shaky feet. They weren't necessarily who he thought they were. He knelt next to the first body, or the remains of one, with the glasses on the floor. They looked awfully familiar. The uniforms didn't have name patches. Neither had the one Mitchell was wearing. He walked over to the next set of bones and clothes, and noticed the dog tags still hanging from the skeletal neck. He didn't know if it was a good idea to touch these remains, but he had to know. He knelt to take a closer look.
The dog tags read O'Neill.
They weren't far from home anymore. Out of all the infinite possibilities, they'd landed in a universe that was a twisted version of their own. One where their counterparts hadn't been nearly as lucky. And the thought that a team lead by Jack O'Neill had died, while his team still lived, made Mitchell feel very strange.
A loud, unpleasant voice cut into Daniel's hazy mind.
"Eilerson. Eilerson! Come on! We need you. We need you to look at those walls. Right now. Just wake up, damn it!"
He hoped they'd just stop shouting. Whoever that Eilerson was and whatever they needed him for, Daniel didn't care right now.
The persistent voice just wouldn't go away.
Daniel opened his eyes. A steady white glow shined down from the ceiling. The same glow he'd been watching for three days now. God, he remembered it all again. He was in the Dodecagon. Stuck. They needed to figure out the walls. He'd failed. He'd failed it over and over again, and now he had an Ancient disease that would kill them all. But they should've been dead already anyway, frozen to death--he'd already killed them when he'd hit that wall.
Were they all still alive, really? And how could they be? He tried to ask it aloud, but all he could manage was a pathetic croak.
"...alive?"
"Daniel? Yes, you're alive, we're all alive. We're in a new universe," Sam answered his vague question. He turned his head slightly and saw her sitting next to him, looking a bit lost, somehow.
They were in a new universe, with a new set of walls. They'd have to get out. It was Daniel's job just as much as Max's, so why hadn't they been shouting at him? He'd have to see the walls, translate and date them if he could.
He tried to get up, but the sudden movement made him feel so much worse all he could do was roll over and retch. Blood again.
Sam had placed a hand on his shoulder, and he was too tired to try and get away from her. He had the vaguest memory of Mitchell's hand resting on his chest. They had touched him already, they had been too close to him, and there was nothing he could do to prevent them from getting this too.
Sam helped him lay back again, and even took off his glasses. He closed his eyes, trying to keep his breathing under control. The traces of blood and bile stung his dry mouth. He could've given anything for a glass--or a whole canteen--of water, but he knew they had none left. Sam was wiping the blood off his face, and a moment later, stroked his head.
This was so wrong--he shouldn't be lying here, shouldn't be treated like a sick child, when he should've been working on those walls.
"Sam--walls--let me-" he whispered.
"It's all right, Daniel, you just rest."
He felt his nose bleeding again, and opened his eyes, looking for a tissue, a piece of cloth, something to wipe it with. Sam apparently realized what he was up to, since she gave him one. As he lifted it, he noticed something odd about his hand. It was speckled all over with small red spots, like needle marks, except that there hadn't been this many needles on his hands. He pulled his sleeve up, and saw that they continued up his arm.
"God... What's--wrong--with me?"
"Let me check and I'll try to find out."
Eilerson had finally gotten up, and after one look at Jackson and another at the remains of an alternate SG-1 on the floor, he'd practically ran to see the walls. Mitchell had followed, staring over his shoulder, asking stupid questions, urging him to tell as soon as he knew anything about the walls. So far, it was looking pretty good. Eilerson had actually recognized three walls in a row.
"Keep up the good work," Mitchell told him, and turned away to go check on Jackson.
Both Teal'c and Carter were watching over him protectively once again. Teal'c's hand rested on Jackson's shoulder. Carter was peering at a thermometer, biting her lip. She noticed Mitchell approaching, stood up, and nodded towards the far end of the room.
"Any news?" Mitchell asked, when they were hopefully far enough that Jackson wouldn't hear.
Carter was still biting her lip. Apparently not a good sign. She waited a while, probably thinking really hard what to say.
Finally, she spoke up. "Do you know anything about the Ebola virus?"
That really got Mitchell off his guard. It took him a while to really understand what she had said, and then, he swore loudly.
"Jeez--Damn--Carter--Sam--really! You think that's what it is?"
"Well... No, not actually. As far as I know, with the disease we've got on Earth, it takes a lot more time than this for the symptoms to show up. Days, at least. It's just that the high fever and the odd bleeding reminds me awfully of the descriptions I've heard..."
"So, it's, what, a faster version? Even worse? Worse than one of the most feared diseases ever?"
"Cameron--I really don't know what it is, but no matter what, he can't take it for long--his fever's really high, and combine that with the dehydration-" she shook her head.
"There's got to be something we can do."
"I know--but I can't come up with anything. If I could just give him something to at least try to lower it--just regular pain medication might help a bit--and Compazine to do away with that awful vomiting--but we only have pills, and he can't swallow anything, not without water... I'm starting to think we should try and wake up Galen again, even if it's way too soon for him," she said.
They both knew that forcing Galen to get up now, after he'd powered the Veraeda twice in too short a time, might have nasty consequences for him. On the other hand, despite the things he had done for them and the days they had spent here together, Galen was still practically a stranger, and a slightly suspicious one at that, while Jackson was a dear friend, an important team member, and one of the most valuable people in the whole stargate program. Of course, it was wrong, ethically, but if it came to choosing between Jackson and Galen, Mitchell certainly knew his priorities.
"The last time we woke him up, it took a good while and a great deal of shouting and shaking, and all of us, himself included, freezing to death... So, let's get started, and hope it might be a bit easier this time," he decided.