Dinner Date – Part 3

Jack felt the pain rising up in his chest once more as he fought to breathe.

Ba'al had been cloned, and no way did he think it was so the Goa'uld could attend high school.

How many of them – how many smirking, evil bastards were there out there, waiting for their chance to torture …

He felt hands grasp his, stilling their sudden shaking.

"Be calm, O'Neill."

He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself as Teal'c asked, but it was impossible with the tight band around his chest and he ended up coughing instead – something he seemed to be doing a lot lately.

Was this a heart attack? Didn't the doctor say he hadn't had one?

He gasped in another tiny gulp of air, barely enough to keep going. In desperation he opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd shut, needing someone to help.

"Try not to panic. Take as deep a breath as you can, as slowly as possible."

Jack found himself instinctively following the calmly spoken orders. He nodded, sucking in air as a hand steadied his back. He winced at the contact on his still healing wound, but the pressure was soft, just enough to help him stay upright as his breathing eased.

"That's right. And again."

He concentrated on just breathing, feeling dizzy and nauseous. Out the corner of his eye he saw SG-1 being ushered out of the room, but he didn't care. He just listened to his doctor's voice and tried to stay calm.

It was several minutes before he could think straight again. The nurses eased him back down on to the bed and he lay there, feeling more tired than he could ever remember.

And scared.

Oh crap, he felt so damned scared!

The doctor pulled a chair over and sat down beside him, and Jack looked at him, expecting to see the self satisfied look of a man who knew he had been right. Instead he saw sympathy.

"You didn't have a heart attack. I know it felt like one, but it wasn't. It was a panic attack."

"No. It couldn't be." He could barely summon the energy to shake his head, but he managed it. Panic attacks – it was inconceivable. No friggin' way!

The doctor only nodded. "I'm afraid it is, General. Whatever you were discussing with your colleagues brought on the attack in both cases. Perhaps now you will understand why I was so reluctant to let you have visitors?"

Ba'al. Everywhere he looked. Everywhere he turned. He would never be free of him, always looking over his shoulder, trapped in a wilderness of mirrors.

"Sir? Look at me." The firm hand on his good shoulder dragged him back from his thoughts. "I know this is a shock to you. You don't strike me as the sort of person normally prone to panic attacks. Am I right?"

"Hell no!"

The doctor nodded. "I didn't think so. And there is no reason to believe that, once you are completely recovered, you will ever get them again. You're underweight for a man of your age and height, and not by just a few pounds. You were bordering on anemic even before the shooting. I think I can hazard a guess that your position is somewhat stressful." When Jack nodded, he continued. "I also have been told you've only recently been appointed to the position. So, a new stressful job, long hours, and little time for recreation, plus you've clearly been missing meals and generally not taking care of yourself. Then you get yourself shot."

Jack had to smile at the way the doctor phrased it. "I didn't do it on purpose."

The doctor smiled back, his face transforming from its usual stern demeanor into one that looked years younger. "Your injuries were severe and life-threatening. You had a serious chest injury and your breathing is still compromised. All these things have combined to cause you to react abnormally to stress." He fixed Jack with a stare. "Do you understand, sir? This isn't a life sentence – just a pothole in the road. Give yourself time to heal and once you're back to full health you should be able to resume your duties."

"Can you guarantee it won't happen again?"

"No, of course not, but it is highly unlikely."

Jack thought for a moment. "Okay, I can live with that." Yes, he could live with it and if, once he was out of hospital, the attacks continued then retirement would be the best option. He wasn't going to put people in danger because he couldn't think straight.

But he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

"I want you to get some rest now, sir."

Jack frowned as the doctor moved towards the IV.

"Is that really necessary?"

"Yes, it is. Your body needs time to heal and, in my considered opinion, the only way to achieve that is by medication." His sardonic smirk had returned in full force. "Have a good sleep, General."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

TBC