13
Starting Over Part 7
"Colonel O'Neill. My office!"
Daniel's head shot up from tying his shoelaces and he peered at Jack over his glasses. He decided he shouldn't have bothered. There was zero reaction from the head of SG-1 even though everyone in earshot could tell the general was not a happy man.
"Sir, we're just about to gate out."
Hammond's eyes pierced him with a chilling severity. "This won't take long." And then he spun on his heel leaving the gateroom.
Sam hadn't so much as looked at her CO since she'd entered to go off-world and as Daniel's eyes flickered over her tightly controlled expression, he thought he saw a glimpse of the pain she was in before the shutters came down and the neutral mask was in place.
Pretending a nonchalance that was not there, Jack quipped, "Don't go without me, kids," and exited to follow in the general's footsteps.
"Close the door, Colonel."
'Uh oh. Not looking good.' No invitation to sit or relax. Jack wondered whether or not the general had heard about the dance. Maybe he'd--.
"What the hell is going on, Colonel? I've had Major Carter in here asking to be reassigned."
'Shit!' Jack blinked rapidly. Then his eyes closed down before Hammond could see what was revealed in their dark depths, keeping his sight on an object just past his superior's shoulder.
"Do you have any comment to make, Colonel?" The general's tone was bitingly cold and formal.
His own voice flat, Jack replied, "It's Major Carter's choice, Sir."
"And you'd go ahead with that choice, would you?"
For an instant Jack's eyes flashed their volcanic anger. 'Not till hell freezes over!'
He clenched his jaw tightly, keeping a firm hold on his emotions.
"I'm waiting for an answer, mister!"
'Crap. He's well and truly pissed.' It had been a long, long time since Jack had seen his CO so furious with him - not since he'd been brought back under armed guard to explain his first trip to Abydos, the discrepancies in his report and what had actually happened there. He'd been thrown in the brig on that occasion he recalled wryly.
Jack loathed being pushed into a corner and when he was in defence mode he fought dirty. He tried, in all honesty, to escape without the need to resort to underhand tactics and looked pointedly at his watch.
"The mission won't fall to pieces if you're ten minutes late, Colonel."
Jack struggled to remain cool under the sharp reprimand but it was a losing battle.
"With respect, Sir, I know Major Carter's your goddaughter and I -----"
"Colonel O'Neill!" Hammond shot out of his chair practically jumping the table to stand trembling, mere inches from Jack's face, but as if oblivious to the general's indignation, he ploughed on. "I feel, sir, maybe I should be the one to leave."
Hammond's usually jovial features were twisted into a mask of outrage and Jack had to steel himself not to fall back from the invisible assault.
"You have overstepped your mark, Colonel, and your disrespect will not go unpunished! On completion of your tour of duty you will report back to me immediately in full dress uniform." Hammond glared hard hoping to see some form of penance in his 2IC's face. There was nothing. "Dismissed!"
The roar of the SGC leader's voice had been heard through the closed door by a number of people and heads turned as the colonel left his office. Eyes blazing straight ahead, personnel literally jumped to get out of Jack's way as he marched back to the gateroom.
As the general watched SG-1 regroup and await the signal to depart, he worked to bring his frayed temper back to a normal level. He was annoyed with himself for allowing Jack to drive him to this imbalance. He knew his 2IC well enough by now to expect the unexpected. Still, he believed O'Neill had gone too far, much too far and after some quiet reflection he would choose something appropriately punitive so that his hot-headed second would think twice before allowing his angry feelings free rein with his own CO.
When Jack had made the comment about Hammond being Sam's godfather, thereby implying she received preferential treatment, George had been so incensed he had wanted to thwack his insolent and insubordinate second round the head. Hard round the head. How on earth he had survived boot camp was still a complete mystery to the general – it didn't bear thinking about and yet, at this moment, he would have exchanged all his privileges of rank to have been a foul-mouthed, overbearing, heavy handed drill sergeant with O'Neill at his complete mercy. He was practically drooling at the images of misery he would put his 2IC through.
And that might possibly have been the reason why, a few minutes later, glancing up at the window for permission to go through the event horizon, Jack suddenly paled as if reading his CO's violently charged mind. Pulling himself back to the present with difficulty, General Hammond glared down at Jack.
"You have a go SG-1."
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"Carter, you're with me. Daniel – with Teal'c."
Sam just managed to stifle the groan of disappointment which raced through her body but there was no hiding the way her shoulders slumped.
'What joy!' she thought, gritting her teeth as she hoisted the backpack up in an attempt to find a more comfortable position for it on her back.
Daniel, attempting to rectify what he knew would be torture for Sam, bravely pushed his glasses up his nose and spoke. "Er….. Jack, maybe it would be better if--."
"Decision's made, Daniel,' Jack snapped sharply. "Let's move out." Glancing at his watch. "Radio contact every hour on the hour. Regroup at eighteen hundred hours back here."
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He watched her, not caring whether she knew it or not. She appeared to be immersed in her work, collecting samples and carrying out a few tests with the little doohickey she carried with her. He played with the buckle strap on his P90; trying hard not to think about the metaphorical thrashing his hide had just received from General Hammond. He grimaced at the thought of having to wear his full dress uniform.
Crap. It was the pits.
His scowl deepened as his gaze strayed from his weapon returning to Carter.
"When did you plan on telling me?" His voice shattered the crystal silence and though her back was to him, Sam froze over her work.
He could imagine her pained expression behind the dark sunglasses, picture her lips moving in a silent curse though no sound carried to his ears.
"Say again, Carter."
He saw her stiffen. Bingo! 'Naughty, naughty, Carter. Don't you know it's not nice to curse your CO?'
"Sir, I'm just going over a formula in my head."
"What? The one that goes, 'I can't hack it with SG-1 – give me something easier.'?"
She rose, turning to face him and he watched while her knuckles turned white as she held a canister into which she had been spooning soil.
Suddenly, Jack felt relieved she wasn't holding her weapon. In fact he was pretty damned glad she was a good few yards away.
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"
Ugh oh. Now what? Did he really want to hear this? Probably not.
In his best cynical style. "Feel free, Carter."
"Right." She moved from foot to foot, squaring off, the peak of her cap hiding most of her features from him, whilst he unconsciously braced himself.
"If you must know, Colonel, I'm tired of the crap I keep getting from you day in, day out. I thought I could handle your tantrums and sulk modes but you have excelled in the special class of putting Sam Carter down – you've passed with double distinction, sir. You must feel awfully proud!"
Shit! She was one very pissed Major. Well, that was fine by Jack – that made two very pissed Air Force officers.
He pushed himself off the rock where he'd been resting his weary legs as she continued.
"I was wrong to be angry with you when you went undercover - I was wrong to leave the SGC." Her eyes flashed blue fire. " You were wrong to leave us out of the loop. You were wrong when you said you'd screwed me."
Though obscured by her shades, he could feel her eyes burning into him as she stabbed the air with her finger on each 'you'.
Sensing his attention wavering at this most critical point she cursed silently and moved deliberately towards him, lips set in a thin line of firm resolve to yank his mind back to her with any means at her disposal, even if it meant--.
Her confusion soared as she realized he was charging her full bodied, eyes wide with anger, fury – No – fear! His weapon was coming up as he screamed her name, and for one illogical moment, before his body slammed hard into hers, she thought he'd lost it. And as the breath was knocked from her lungs and she hit the ground rolling, she furiously decided her level three hand-to-hand was going to be put to good use in kicking ass – specifically one ornery, bad-tempered colonel's.
Working to get air back into painfully deflated lungs, Sam pushed herself up, ready to give out hell when the sound of muffled groaning drew her shocked gaze to where Jack lay on the ground feebly trying to push off some sort of enormous, fur-covered creature which had wrapped itself across his chest.
"Colonel!" She scrambled to his side, dropping down, noting how the blood had drained from his waxen face leaving his dark eyes burning feverishly.
"Get. It. Off. Me!" he cried weakly through gritted teeth.
In death, its teeth were bared, huge vicious canines, foul smelling, making Sam's stomach churn uneasily.
"What…..what happened? I didn't even…." She pushed and as the beast's body rolled, she saw a knife, Jack's knife, buried deep to the hilt in its side.
Oh God – so much blood.
As she worked frantically to open his flak jacket, Jack struggled to push himself up, hissing as the pain took a firm hold, but Sam flattened him against the ground with one hand.
"Stay still, Colonel. Let me check you over." Her voice almost cracked with emotion as she managed to open his ripped jacket, wincing at the slashed black t-shirt beneath.
Her eyes sought his trying to reassure, trying not to cringe when she saw the deep, raking claw marks down his chest, stomach and lower. She worked to unbuckle his pants' belt.
"What you doin', Carter?"
"I need to--."
A bloodied hand stopped her pulling down the zip.
"I'm fine."
"Sir, I need to--."
"I said I'm fine."
Sam sat back on her heels, hardly believing what she was hearing.
'A little late for modesty, I'd say,' she growled to herself. Then snorting in exasperation, she yanked the medkit out of her pack, snapping open sterile wipes and proceeded in none too gentle fashion to cleanse the wounds.
Ignoring his indrawn breath and the clenched hands at his side, she cleaned the ugly lacerations as far as his pants, dimly aware that Jack had started a quiet string of colourful swearing. When she tore open the sterilizing powder, he faltered, paling even further. He knew what to expect. Sam hesitated.
"Sorry, sir."
Grim faced. "Get on with it!"
He braced himself but still his body bucked as the biting medication seeped into the open wounds. Throwing an arm over his eyes, he moaned softly, achingly into the rough material of his jacket but as Sam began to explore his body with gentle but firm hands, he knew the worst was not over.
He gasped in anguish as her palms pressed down finding a depression where none should have been.
He bore it all a little longer but finally gave into his needs.
"Have you finished?" The urgency in his voice held Sam still for a moment and her own achingly nervous, distraught eyes met his own.
"I need to finish checking for other injuries, sir."
"Enough," he growled. "Help me up."
"Negative, sir!" she shot back placing her two hands on his shoulders. "I need to finish dressing these and hopefully that will stop the bleeding."
She had extracted a syringe from the kit and was reaching for the vial to administer a strong pain killer, but Jack's hand reached out pushing it determinedly away.
"Not yet," he wheezed, "need my wits if we meet anymore of his pals…… Advil's okay."
Sam's eyes widened in protest but just at that moment Jack's radio burst into life.
"All done and dusted here." Daniel's cheerful voice sounded loud, startling them both. "We're heading back to the gate, E.T.A. just under an hour."
Jack toggled his own radio. "Roger that, Daniel…Er, you need to keep a keen eye out for some unpleasant wild cats – bit like a cougar, only hairier and bigger. Not friendly."
Sam didn't attempt to hide her distress as Jack made no effort to avail the others of the change in their circumstances.
"Sir, I think you need to---"
Cutting her off with a sharp wave of his hand, Jack continued speaking into the radio. "Daniel, we may … be delayed – a small hiccup." He threw Sam a bitter sweet smile even through all the pain. "Go through the gate once you get there ...oh, and have Doc standing by."
Silence eventually broken by Daniel's hesitant voice, "Jack?"
Unable to bear the frustration any further, Sam cut in on her own radio.
"Daniel, the colonel's down. I'm proceeding to dress his wounds now. We may have problems getting to the gate."
"Not going to happen."
Sam's eyebrows rose higher than ever, clearly unhappy with her CO.
"O'Neill," Teal'c's low voice came over the airwaves. "Would it not be more prudent for Daniel Jackson and me to make our way to intercept you and Major Carter and in so doing we may be able to offer assistance?"
Jack grimaced, shaking his head. "Negative on that. It'll practically double your journey. The original plan stays."
"Colonel!" 'Damnit, you're bleeding to death in front of my eyes!'
Jack snapped off the radio connection and glared in his best 'Don't mess with me' look at his 2IC, then as Sam's eyes pierced him in vehement disagreement he returned to the radio. "Carter will get me back."
Daniel replied, querying this in his own manner much to Jack's irritation. "Sam? You okay with this?"
Her eyes snapped a very definite negative but she did not verbalise it, her stare boring into Jack. If this is a test, she decided, she'd damned well show him!
"Yes, Daniel…Just have Janet waiting with her biggest needles. Over."
There! Two could play these games. And putting on a blandly innocent face, she finished dressing the wounds, pretending to be oblivious to Jack's grim expression which she knew full well had nothing to do with his wounds.
"Was that really necessary?" His voice was so roughened it came out a growl.
Again, faking ignorance, she concentrated on packing away the medkit.
"I don't want you to bleed to death, Colonel." She congratulated herself on her tone but stared wide-eyed as he shot her a venomous glare. He knew her too well to be taken in by her innocent act.
"Pay back can be a real bitch, Major," he warned.
"And you're going to find out exactly how much…Sir." The last word was thrown in as insolently as she dare.
Oh yes, she dare.
If Jack had had the strength, he was sure he'd have shaken her until her teeth rattled and all her insubordination had shaken its way out of her. As it was, he struggled to his knees and then with grim determination made it to his feet, swaying alarmingly until his blurred vision cleared and the roiling in his gut calmed. He'd be damned if he'd give her the luxury of seeing him complain.
"So what is this, Colonel – team building?" He ignored her. "Taking it to the extreme, wouldn't you say?"
But he had no energy for words, everything he had left was for moving, one painful step in front of the other.
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She knew he was working on automatic pilot – one foot forward, repeat with the other, repeat again. His face, devoid of any colour, was set – a closed expression she was only too familiar with after all these years.
He stumbled and she grabbed his arm, forcing him out of the cocoon he had put himself in.
"We stop here, sir," she ordered softly.
"Negative," he gasped.
He tried pulling away but she hung on to him, and he found himself too weak to resist.
She tried making it more acceptable.
"We both need to rest."
He stared at her out of eyes filled with pain and exhaustion. He had no choice. As gently as she could, she helped him to lie down, placing her own rolled up jacket beneath his head as her eyes continued to make a 360-degree check.
When her hand reached out to check his forehead he jerked away, regretting it instantly as he hissed from the painful movement.
"You have a fever!"
"Tell me something I don't know." He didn't have the energy to sound pissed but Sam knew he was.
She started to move his clothing and he groaned, his eyes which had closed, opening instantly, warily.
"I'm just going to redress your wounds."
He shook his head, "I'm fine."
Sam's eyes narrowed. She didn't comment, just continued her work as quickly and efficiently as she knew how. At the same time she realized she was hurting him though he used every effort to contain it.
It was only when, in a no nonsense manner, she moved to undo his pants that his distant demeanour fled.
"Whoa!" He pushed her hands away, too weak to have much effect, but his persistence when he repeated this tactic suddenly made something inside Sam snap – tiredness and worry had reduced her tolerance levels to zero and the colonel's next listless move to protest her help was met with firm retaliation.
"Stop it!" and her hand slapped Jack's away. She stiffened, screwing her eyes shut and swearing silently but heavily. If he had cursed her back and complained bitterly, Sam would have immediately felt better but as it was she ended up having a guilt trip so heavy she wished it had been her CO who had struck her.
He now lay still, hands clenched at his sides, bitter eyes fixed on something past her shoulder.
It was with relief she was able to preserve his modesty, the wound running just below the waistband of his boxers so that merely by turning down the band Sam could clean, medicate and dress the gash to her satisfaction.
On completion, she attempted to replace Jack's clothing but this time he twisted unnaturally away from her making his own adjustments, pushing himself up before Sam was ready to assist and retracing his steps back to the stargate, not bothering to wait for his 2IC.
She watched his hunched figure for a moment, shaking her head miserably at the state of their abysmal relationship.
'Great. How to piss off an already badly pissed off CO in one easy lesson…Way to go, Sam.'
Wearily, she climbed to her feet, shouldered both their packs and followed until she had caught up with him.
Daring a sideways glance she was disturbed to see how grey his face had become, the effort to keep going proving too much as he stumbled. He would have fallen if she hadn't reached out and grabbed him, but he wasn't about to accept any favours from her and petulantly shrugged her helping hand off.
"I don't know what I did wrong in my past life to deserve this," she muttered under her breath, and it was at that moment she threw caution to the wind.
Shaking out two more painkillers she thrust them into Jack's hand, watching as he dry swallowed. She proffered her canteen, glaring as he hesitated and finally shook his head curtly in refusal. She knew he'd finished his own water a while ago – his fever had increased his thirst.
"Okay, colonel. This is what is going to happen," she snapped. "Either you are sensible and drink this or I'll sit on you and make you drink it."
Even feeling as sick as he did, he blinked in surprise.
Shit. He was too exhausted to argue. He allowed the flask to be held to his lips and drank deeply and once he'd finished, Sam took one of his arms gently looping it over her shoulder whilst putting one of her arms round his waist for added support.
She saw his grimace, how he hated his own weakness. "It's either this or you fall down in the next five minutes. I'm going for this option seeing as you told Daniel and Teal'c that I'd get you back."
He would have loved to argue but he knew better than his 2IC how true her words were. So gritting his teeth and setting his jaw determinedly, they continued on.
And even exhausted, the proximity with Sam drove Jack to expend energy which should have been conserved for the journey.
"So, Carter," he gasped, "which team were you considering? I…I hear… SG-11 is looking for…. another scientist."
Keeping a firm grip on her CO – her hands did possibly tighten when she heard the grated question but she forced herself to relax.
"I haven't thought that far, sir."
"I never thought I'd see you quit, Carter."
"Haven't quit, sir."
"Like…hell you have!"
"Merely regrouping."
"You don't say…Funny kind of regrouping."
Sam knew all too well he was struggling to continue the conversation, his breathing growing shallower with every word spoken.
"I think you need to conserve energy, Colonel."
"You…telling me to…shut up?"
"Yes, sir!"
He did just that, much to Sam's surprise. She had expected further argument but the strain of the journey had taken its toll even on her and, silently now, they pushed on.
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His legs simply gave way. And when Sam strained to get him back on his feet he shook his head as aggressively as he could.
"No," he gasped painfully, shuddering with the effort. Pushing himself away from her support he allowed himself to sink to the ground, carefully cradling his stomach as best he could.
On her knees beside him, Sam gently shook him.
"Come on, sir. Just a little further. We can do it."
"No…you…go on."
"Can't do that."
Jack groaned as the pain of his wounds merged with the pain of Sam's stubbornness.
"Damnit, Carter…obey orders."
"I am – I'm taking you back."
His patience was wafer thin. "Goddamnit, Carter – do as you…are…told!" he gasped.
Ignoring his anger Sam cradled his head in her arm and put the canteen, holding the last of her water, to his lips.
In his utter frustration he tried feebly to turn away but Sam would have none of it, firmly turning his head back to her.
"Drink!"
He wanted to curse, remonstrate, shake her hard, but instead he was forced to lie helpless, unable to do the one thing he truly wanted – get her safely home.
"Carter, I--."
"Shut up and drink."
He shot her a look through his bloodshot eyes, a look that told her there would be payback, big time. Just not yet. Not now. And now was all she cared about.
He drank until he'd emptied her canteen, straining for more when she removed it from him.
He was vaguely aware of her hands on him, loosening his clothing, prodding him, moving him, disturbing him and he wished to hell she'd just leave him alone.
He thought he cursed her, but as his fever increased his thoughts became less coherent and he had nightmares of being put in an icy sarcophagus time after time between periods of burning heat that seared the lining from his throat.
He recalled arguing with her, grabbing at her hands which seemed constantly to be doing things to him, and holding them tightly, pulling her close, demanding, ordering, cursing and finally pleading with her to go back through the gate.
He relived the moment the beast had leapt at Carter, his desperate race to throw her aside and then the horrible reality of the claws ripping though his uniform, tearing his flesh, breaking his bones.
He twisted away from the pain, fought against the restraints of the ice and the fire and in the few still moments between each torture he would hear her voice calling to him softly.
"Stay with me, stay with me."
He was furious with her when he wasn't pleading and threatened dire consequences at her adamant refusal to do as he ordered. And so the spiralling nightmare of his existence continued taking him on a journey of never ending torture.
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Go to Part 8