One Too Many Planets Part 7
"How are they doing, Doctor?"
Janet looked up from her notes, rubbing the heel of her hand against her throbbing head.
"Daniel's an overnighter – twelve stitches to the forehead – no complications. He'll be back checking his artefacts in next to no time, Sir. Colonel O'Neill, on the other hand, sustained two fractures to his left arm. He also suffered a concussion and needed several stitches in his scalp."
She saw the General wince and sympathized – it seemed his 2IC couldn't go out on a mission without ending up in the infirmary.
"He'll be here for some time, General."
She looked through her partially open door, her view of O'Neill uninterrupted. He lay in his usual bed, face ashen even against the white sheets and pillow, his left arm in a cast and placed in a sling across his chest. He appeared to be dreaming as she could see him twitching in his sleep.
He could see her, arms extended to him, face twisted in panic and fear. She was crying out, "Help me, help me!" over and over as he strained to get closer. As he stretched his body to reach her, invisible forces pulled him back the moment his fingertips touched hers. And still she pleaded with him, her eyes tormenting him with her silent condemnation as he called her name, he in turn begging her to reach out for him.
"Did Dr. Jackson mention anything at all to you about Major Carter's disappearance?"
Janet glanced back at the General, seeing the worry before it was hidden behind a mask – so like Jack, she thought wryly.
"No, Sir. He couldn't provide anything other than the fact that he believed she was working in the next cave. He did say Colonel O'Neill kept crying out that she'd fallen down some sort of hole, but there was nothing to show where she'd disappeared, if she did. There was some sort of seismic activity, an earthquake, which resulted in Daniel's and Colonel O'Neill's injuries but as for what happened to the Major, she appears to have disappeared into thin air."
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She smiled as the elderly woman approached her, arms full of what she could only surmise to be clothes. She sat up in bed, pulling the cover up to cover her nakedness. She had awoken to find herself on a pallet of furs, divest of clothes, obviously washed, which caused her to blush at the thought of unknown people removing her clothing and bathing her. And yet why she was there she did not know. She massaged her left temple with the tips of her fingers aware of a throbbing pain just lurking ready to explode.
The old woman, well into her seventies with parchment skin wrinkled at the eyes and mouth, proffered the garments and Sam took them gratefully.
"Dress, my child." The voice was a little stern, but a smile accompanied the words and she helped the young woman as she stepped into the high-backed cotton dress, helping her with the ties at the front.
Sam fingered the wound on her forehead which had been covered by some form of dressing but the older woman gently drew her hand away.
"Leave it to heal."
"What happened?"
"You cannot remember?" The older woman watched her carefully. "You fell from your horse."
"My horse? But I--."
"Enough, my lady, your mother awaits you. She does not care to be kept waiting."
She stilled, holding up her hands to stop the other with the last minute adjustments to her attire.
"M..my mother?"
"The Queen is anxious to see you up and about. These last four days have been a nightmare for her."
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"Come on, Colonel. It's time to wake up. Let's see those big brown eyes of yours."
'Go away. Leave me in peace!'
He felt his hand being pressed. 'Ouch! Damn it, that hurt.'
Janet felt a distinct movement in the hand to which she'd just pulled hard on the middle finger.
"That's it," she murmured encouragingly, "you're nearly there – just open your eyes. Come on, Sir."
'I'm trying, I'm trying! Keep your shirt on."
Slowly, with more effort than it normally took to do a workout with Teal'c, Jack succeeded in half opening his eyes.
Everything was terribly unfocused and as he blinked, a bright light suddenly appeared before his oversensitive vision ensuring he snapped his eyes tightly shut.
'Damn, damn, damn! Why does she have to do that?' He hated that infernal light – it hurt worse than the blasted needles she constantly used on him.
"Come on, Sir. Open up. I just need to check your visual reflexes."
Jack refused to comply and only when he heard the unmistakable click telling him the light had been retracted, did he slowly raise his lids. This time the picture was a little clearer and he was able to see a petite brunette smiling down on him.
"Hi there. Welcome back, Colonel."
Attempting to speak, Jack could only produce a weak, choking sound. Immediately, Janet reached over and placed a couple of ice slivers in his mouth; he sucked on them with obvious relief, then he tried again.
"Carter?"
Not missing a heartbeat, Janet answered lightly, "I've no information yet, Colonel. When I have, you'll be the first to know."
"Doc, don't bullshit me." It took effort to say the words and now Jack lay exhausted, trying hard to keep his eyes open.
Hesitating for a second, Janet leant in closer, putting her hand on Jack's own. "When I know anything, you'll be the next……promise." This time her words were spoken earnestly. And for Jack, it wasn't what he wanted to hear but at least it was something.
"Daniel?" He could barely say the name.
"He's been and gone. He wanted to keep vigil at your bedside but I banned him from the infirmary unless he was willing to occupy a bed. He'll be back in the morning."
"How long…?" Unable to stay awake to finish his question, Janet was thankful she didn't have to tell him this was his fifth day in the hospital – five days in which they'd had no sign of where Samantha Carter was – whether she was alive or dead. Nothing.
Daniel heard the soft murmur and lowered his book, anxiously scanning the pale, drawn face on the pillow. His hand reached out to grasp Jack's arm, aware that his friend was resurfacing after being out of it for such a long period of time.
Slowly, Jack's brown eyes opened revealing pain and confusion.
"Carter?" He spoke the name a second time turning to see if there was someone else sitting on the other side of his bed. Dark eyes returned to Daniel who blinked nervously. He felt Jack remove his arm from his gentle hold.
"Where is she?"
Even to his own ears, his voice sounded weak and he raged inwardly at his impotence, willing the young archaeologist to make sense of the burning hole in his soul.
"W…we don't know what happened, Jack. She was there in the cave with you and the next second she was gone."
Restlessly, Jack's hands grabbed at the bedcovers as his body tensed.
"The earth just gave way beneath her……I …I tried holding on but I couldn't!" Jack's head dropped, his eyes screwed tightly shut as he tried to erase the harrowing image imprinted on his brain.
Summoning hidden reserves, he pushed himself up, throwing the bedcovers back and bringing his legs over the side of the bed.
Daniel's horrified expression matched the sound of his voice. "Ja-ack? Are you out of your mind? If Doc Fraiser--."
"If I what, Dr. Jackson?"
Daniel winced at the biting tone whilst the tiny figure was hurrying past him. She put a very firm hand on Jack's shoulders, at the same time sweeping his bare legs back up on the bed. Smoothing out the sheets, she snapped up the side rail of the bed, walking round to the opposite side and repeating the procedure, all the while giving both men a look which put them in the same category as pre-schoolers.
"You're still not ready for walk-about, Colonel." She spoke the words gently but firmly and there was no mistaking the fiery gleam in her eye nor the no-nonsense way she listened to Jack's heart through her stethoscope. When she'd finished, she stepped back to survey her patient, resisting the urge to brush back a lock of hair over his forehead. She went to his chart and wrote down some more figures then snapped it back onto the base of the bed.
"You're doing fine, Colonel, as long as you stay in bed."
She gave Daniel a piercing look as she spoke, making him flush and drop his eyes as if the book in his lap held some extraordinary secrets of the universe.
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"He's too quiet, General."
The dark-haired doctor's eyes were troubled, even though she'd just given General Hammond a very positive rundown of O'Neill's recovery.
"I would have thought that a compliant Colonel O'Neill was something to be enjoyed. After all the complaints I've heard over the grapevine concerning some of the antics he's gotten up to in his post recovery status."
"We-ell, yes, General, but I…I can't quite put my finger on it, it's just that he isn't bouncing back."
The General frowned. "But you've just told me he's making a speedier recovery than even you'd anticipated."
Janet grimaced, realizing she wasn't explaining herself at all well. "Yes, Sir. I know what I said, but there's something off." She shook her head, perplexed by the quandary.
"When do you expect to release him?"
"He's still some healing processes to go through but I'd say another week and he'll be ready for some light duties."
"Good." The General rose to his feet, a clear indication that the meeting was coming to an end. "I'll drop by some time this evening before heading home. It's my youngest granddaughter's birthday tomorrow; I've got some balloons to pump and banners to put up. It's not every day you turn three."
Janet smiled at the pride in her CO's voice.
"It will do you good to get away from this place for a while, Sir."
The General sobered instantly. "Has Colonel O'Neill said anything about the loss of Captain Carter to you?"
Janet sighed, her dark eyes almost turning black. "He won't discuss it, General. We all know he's the world's expert when it comes to burying feelings."
Janet played with her pen as she spoke, remembering how on one recent occasion Jack had been positively aggressive. She'd kept that out of her report and he had apologized, which was practically unheard of. Nor had she let him have an inkling of the fact that her heart had almost stopped as he'd leaped from his bed to tower over her, fists clenched, face contorted in rage, spitting out that, no, he had nothing to talk about Captain Samantha Carter now or ever! There was nothing to say other than here today, gone tomorrow. End of conversation.
When next she had raised the subject – and yes, she'd had to – he was under strict control, and apart from a nerve jumping at his temple, he presented the perfect picture of someone coming to terms with grief. Only Janet knew him better than most – well almost most, she admitted to herself alone.
'Pretty good, Colonel,' she thought admiringly. 'That would even fool Dr. MacKenzie.'
"Will he require counselling?"
The question brought Janet back to the present.
"I'd recommend more time for him to deal with the situation in his own mind, General. SG-1 was a very close team. Daniel and Teal'c are, in their own ways, providing support."
"Very well, Dr. Fraiser. We'll review this in another week."
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He had been patient, so very, very patient and his planning had been meticulous. He had bided his time and waited. Waited not only for his body to heal, but waited for the most appropriate time to make his move.
Slowly, secretly, he had accumulated all he would need. He was used to working behind enemy lines, under cover, skilled in the art of deception even to the point of deceiving his remaining two closest friends.
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As Teal'c and Daniel left the infirmary on the way to the commissary, Daniel whirled round on the huge Jaffa, forcing him to a standstill.
"Don't tell me you didn't pick up on something?"
For a moment the warrior stared at the smaller man, his left eyebrow raised theatrically.
"Daniel Jackson, I believe your use of double negatives assumes you are making a positive statement, though I fail to see anything in the vicinity that requires gathering."
Well used to Teal'c's way with language, Daniel didn't skip a beat as he continued. "He was getting positively ready to go into full tantrum mode on account we were still hanging about. He's never done that before."
"We have never had the loss of Captain Carter before."
Daniel shuddered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Something is definitely up."
Teal'c's eyes looked to the ceiling and then returned to Daniel.
"I think we need to keep an eye on Jack, Teal'c."
"I may assure you, Daniel Jackson, both my eyes will be used to observe O'Neill."
The linguist grinned, pleased to have the large man on his side.
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"Going somewhere, Jack?"
The tone, innocent enough, still had the effect of making Jack jump out of his skin, and having returned to terra firma, he glowered at the young archaeologist who was standing, feet slightly apart, arms crossed and blocking his path
"Get out of my way, Daniel." The tone was no nonsense 'DON'T MESS WITH ME!' O'Neill at his most ornery.
Daniel's expression never changed. "Not until you tell me what's going on."
Jack stiffened. "I won't ask again."
Staring at his friend's implacable gaze, Daniel had not missed the full pack Jack was wearing nor the GDO gripped tightly in his hand.
"I repeat, going somewhere, Jack?"
"It would appear, O'Neill, that you are attempting some covert mission."
Not breaking contact with Daniel gaze, Jack saw the triumph in the archaeologist's blue eyes at the same time as he tried to conceal his own realization of defeat. Daniel alone was fine; plus another – okay. But Teal'c. There was no way he could get past the big guy unless the big guy wanted it that way.
"He's good at that sort of thing, Teal'c – black ops training and all." Daniel stayed locked on Jack who chose to ignore the hidden sarcasm of his younger colleague. "So tell me, Jack," he continued lightly, "does Janet know about this walkabout?"
"It's need to know."
Daniel's eyebrows rose above his rimmed glasses. He appeared to be in deep contemplation. "Ah, right, interesting."
Just three words and they were beginning to irritate the hell out of Jack.
"General Hammond?" Daniel persisted.
Jack's lips tightened ominously. Daniel could feel his own anger boiling inside and tried hard to rein it under control.
"Before I ask Teal'c to take a firm grip on your collar to drag you back to the infirmary where, I've no doubt whatsoever, you will get the verbal thrashing of your life from our all-time favourite CMO – I'd just like to ask you one thing." He had come so close to Jack their faces were mere inches apart. Daniel's voice had risen inexorably with his growing anger. "Do you intend leaving the rest of your team out of the loop from now on? Because if that's the case, I'll just up and go now."
Jack had long since dropped his gaze, unable to face the bitter accusation in Daniel's eyes.
"I'm gating back to PX5725."
"To do what exactly?" At times Daniel could be cruelly blunt. "What are you going to do, Jack, that Teal'c and I and a whole mess of SG teams haven't already tried?"
Hurting so badly at the loss of Sam and recoiling from Jack's own withdrawal, Daniel's only recourse was to hurt back and he intended to push the knife in deep with an added twist.
"Guess you're on a guilt trip, eh Jack?"
The older man tensed.
"Wanting to take back those harsh words you used on Sam – not wanting to think that the last thing you did pissed her off?"
Jack's head shot up, his cold glare blazing into Daniel.
"That's enough!" he growled.
"What did she do to you, Jack?"
Knowing enough of O'Neill's body language to understand how close to the edge his CO was, Teal'c felt it an opportune moment to intervene.
"If Captain Carter were to see you both now, I believe it would bring her great pain and distress."
As if a light switch had been turned off, the rage, anger and ugliness simply collapsed, leaving the airman and the archaeologist looking lost and deflated.
"Daniel, I…."
"Jack…."
They both spoke at once and stopped mid-sentence. It was Daniel who cut to the quick.
"Look, Jack, I don't know what you can do on that god forsaken planet, but I know you've got to try. You'll need our help getting there, right Teal'c?"
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Going through the gate in the early hours of the morning when Siler had been doing some off world connection tests had been the perfect time to make his move, and with Daniel's help in keying in the co-ordinates and Teal'c providing the necessary diversion of Lieutenant Simmons, it had been easier than Jack had anticipated.
And now, as he scowled at the familiar horizon, he realized he didn't remember it taking this long to get to the damned site that first time round.
'Could be that you didn't have busted bones and a concussion,' Jack admonished himself dryly.
His shoulder was aching and he moved the packs on his back in an attempt to ease the pressure. Not a lot of difference. He shrugged – it was nothing new for him to be in pain – he'd live with it, get it sorted good and proper when he got Carter back.
Carter! His heart gave a lurch as he allowed himself to think of her. His head was beginning to throb as he relived those last seconds when her hand had slipped out of his. He stopped, vaguely aware his breathing was irregular, too rapid and painful. Tough! He pressed on. He wanted to get to the site while it was still light.
'And what are you going to do then, Jack?' He repeated Daniel's question, wondering what on earth he could do that others had failed to achieve with all their linguistic and scientific knowledge.
But he knew, he just knew that no matter what, he had to come back and see for himself. He frowned. 'How could that hole simply disappear?' Even an earthquake would still reveal something of the chasm that had once been.
He trudged on, a picture of Carter glaring at him after he'd threatened to remove her from the SGC if she dared to ask for a transfer – for a moment he'd thought she would hit him again, he knew she wanted to, but she brought herself under control with difficulty. 'Not like me,' he thought grimly, 'laying into her any opportunity there was.'
He had to find her if only to…, well, he never apologized – it just wasn't the Jack O'Neill thing, but he'd do something to let her know he was sorry.
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He swore fiercely, with a growing realization that after six hours he'd found squat, having been over the ground and the damned stone with a fine tooth comb. Eventually, he had dropped to the ground, the large monument Carter had been working on, his back rest. Knees drawn to his chest, he rested his arms on them and hung his head, a picture of dejection.
He groaned knowing it wouldn't be long before General Hammond was back at his desk and Doc Fraiser was made aware of his AWOL status and then it would really hit the fan!
"Carter, where the hell are you?"
He could almost feel her eyes on him, hurt and confusion warring with each other as he'd kissed Kelly. Hell, he'd not even realized he would end up doing that, it was only meant to…. He'd only gone to the darn party because he'd wanted to sort things out with Sam, make her understand that he'd never thought more highly of his 2IC, never thought more highly of her as a person. What she'd done back on PX4250 was way beyond the call of duty and he had her to thank for getting him back in one piece.
He frowned at the thought that she'd even consider transferring to another SG team. No way in hell would he allow that – not till hell froze over!
He groaned as he remembered her lips on his, her body pressed against his and the need he'd had for her... He'd almost lost it there and then, and now castigated himself – if he'd allowed himself to respond how he truly felt then this wouldn't have happened.
Don't go there, Jack – if, if, if! F-cking ifs – his whole life would be something else if he'd followed that road of thought.
He pushed himself up, groaning as his body protested. He looked at his watch – by his reckoning he had another hour, maybe less, before a team would be sent to haul his sorry ass back.
He turned back to the carved stone beginning to hate it for the secrets it so carefully guarded and which, it appeared, only Sam had been able to partially unlock before she disappeared.
Missing in action. He felt the bitter taste of loss and shame in his mouth – his 2IC, his Captain, his Sam. He could feel the rage building deep inside him ready to erupt and as the pain and anguish of his loss washed over him in a raging tide, he laid his head against the cool black stone fighting back emotions which welled within. He never cried, NEVER, not even when Charlie…. He felt the earth tremble and made a mad grab for his packs just as the soil gave way beneath him.
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Too much pain – turn it off! Make it stop. He jerked awake biting his lower lip, clenching his fists to stop himself crying out. Awake and the pain diminished, retreating to a place at the back of his mind.
He ran a hand over his clammy face and tried to decide in the darkness where he lay whether he was still beside the stones and his dream was just that – a dream, or whether he was in a different place – a place where Carter was.
He rolled over, grimacing. There were plenty of new bruises; he was fairly sure of that. Groping around with his hands, he felt one of the packs and pulled it eagerly towards him. Unbuckling and unzipping, he searched and found what he wanted.
The torch flickered on and at last he could see where he was. A small cavern, a tunnel leading off, different from where he had originated from. The beam landed on his other pack and flexing his body he was pleased that no crippling pain made itself felt. He could move – he had a job to do.
He came out into sunlight and squinted until he hastily pulled up the sunglasses from around his neck and pulled the visor of his military issue cap lower still.
Trees. Lots of them. He scowled. Blue sky, clouds, hot sun. Earth? Could be, he admitted. He looked around, doing a three-sixty degree turn seeing hills and more trees and a similar vista running away before him.
How the hell had he got here? Where was here? Where was he going? Ah, he could answer that. He was going to find Carter.
He set off, cautious, alert, well aware of his vulnerability in being alone, but unwilling to have it any other way.
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He'd travelled three earth days according to his watch, stopping only when darkness descended, making it dangerous to continue. He did not need to fall over some obstacle and break his leg right now. That would be poor timing.
The terrain had proven to be neither too arduous nor a simple Sunday afternoon stroll, but the fact that he had, by no means, recovered from the injuries sustained when he had lost Carter, meant that what might have taken a couple of days was doubled due to his weakness. And patience wasn't Jack's strong point.
Each night when he wrapped himself in his sleeping bag having used up one of the MRE meals, he would chastise himself for his slow progress. Progress? He grimaced. He didn't even know if he was any nearer to finding her or not.
Yet on the third night, having ascended high into mountainous terrain where the snow covered the ground, having reached the highest peak he had looked down into the valley below, shivering in the fading light of day, and seen lights – hundreds of beckoning lights – telling of a large settlement, civilization or maybe not. But whatever, ahead may lie his search's end and closing his eyes before sleep claimed him, he had a vision of a woman with short blonde hair, questioning blue eyes, a hint of a smile spreading into delight.
He had awoken earlier than usual; it was pitch black as he cleared camp, erasing all signs of his presence. He felt a quickening of his pulse that hadn't been there the previous mornings and he knew that his senses were on high alert.
'What will I say to her if …no, when I come face to face with her? Hi Carter, sorry I pissed you off. Do you think we could get back to how it used to be and I'll promise not to annoy the hell out of you by kissing fellow officers in your face?'
He wore a wry expression at the phoniness of it all and wished…wished for a lot of things, but his self-discipline would not allow him to go down that road for long.
'Stick to the present, Jack. Deal with this for now.'
Go to Part 8