Right, guys. I'm sorry I have to do this to you but I'm off on
holiday for a couple of weeks on Saturday and I can't get to a
computer to put up stuff but I promise you this: I will write LOADS
and put it all up when I get back. Sound good? Glad to see some of you
are feeling sorry for Pete even though some of you are being very
unfair to him -cough- Natters, BookWorm37 -cough-
cinderalla2122: fugly! what a great word! sorry, that made me laugh XD Natters: Spud-boy! -snort- you guys are so funny, maybe you all should write this story. BookWorm37: Sophie
understands you love pie and your rightious indignation at the lack of
pie at the feast, even so, we believe that the letters and the death
threats were a bit much and legal action was required.
Thanks for all the reviews and to my beta SG-Fan, who I don't thank nearly enough. Here is the next chapter! It's extra long to make up for the holiday.
"Shanahan?"
The cop had been silent for a long time now; he was just sitting on the couch, staring into the fireplace, breathing in and out in calm, controlled breaths. The phone had rung a few minutes earlier but Pete had ignored it- he didn't even bat an eyelid at the shrill sound.
Jack sighed and tried to focus on moving a hand, a finger or anything. He understood that Pete had to come to terms with what had happened, but this was taking too long. They were wasting time.
"Oh Shanahan…" Jack called.
Pete's breathing increased in rate for a second, then became controlled again, his gaze flicked briefly from the fireplace to the hand that Jack was trying to move then back again.
"Did you feel that?" Jack asked curiously.
Pete began to get angry again then broke off the staring contest he was having with a metal grate, got up, and started pacing.
"Actually, I can't move it," Pete said grumpily, gesturing to the hand that was hanging limply at his side.
The hand started wiggling the fingers and cracking the knuckles.
"Well, look at that!" Jack said happily "I've got control of a hand!"
"I want it back," Pete said sternly.
"But I just got it," Jack whined
"It's my hand!"
"Well as long as I'm in here with you, I think we should learn to share, don't you think?"
"No," Pete said angrily, "Now give it back!"
"Shanahan!" Jack yelled, "If we are going to get out of this, we need to work together! If that means I get a hand then just let it go!"
"I'm not completely certain that I'm not having a mid-life crisis or some kind of break-down!" Pete yelled, waving his free hand in the air in an agitated manner.
"We need to get to Sam-"
"I'm not telling her I'm having a mid-life crisis!" Pete screeched disbelievingly.
"You are not having a mid-life crisis, fer cryin' out loud!" Jack shouted and gave Pete a headache. The combined rage and frustration of Pete and Jack caused a searing pain, Pete was upset about the intrusion and Jack was becoming increasingly annoyed with short-stuff's reaction to the absurd that Jack and SG-1 encountered everyday. 'A mid-life crisis'? That was the worst scenario he could come up with? He wasn't even old enough to have a mid-life crisis!
Too young.
Like Sam.
Who was Jack kidding? Pete could give Sam so much more than he could. Jack was just finishing his life, wrapping up loose ends, she was just starting one, and she needed someone like Pete to spend it with. She needed something normal to keep her grounded. Sophie was wasting her time with this whole thing.
Jack brought Pete's hand up to rub his temple.
"Hey! I've got an arm!" He waved it about to test it and managed to whack Pete in the face.
"Ow!"
"Ow!"
"Mind where you're waving that thing!" Pete said, grabbing the wayward arm at the wrist.
"Come on, we need to get to Sam," Jack reminded him.
"It's not that easy!" Pete said as worry clouded his mind.
"Yes it is, just pick up the phone!" Jack argued, "Need a hand?" He waved the offending hand Pete's face and the younger man slapped it away.
"What am I going to tell her?" Pete cried, "That I'm hearing voices! No way, pal!" The cop stopped pacing and collapsed on the couch.
"You're not hearing voices!"
Pete raised his eyebrows.
"Well, you are," Jack agreed, "But in a very non-nuts kind of way."
Pete sighed and ran his hand through his hair then closed his eyes.
"Look all you have to do is tell Sam that I'm in here and she'll sort it out."
"How can you be so certain that she'll figure it out?" Pete scoffed.
"Because… It's Sam."
"I think you have too much faith in her, she's just one person,"
"And I think you have too little."
Pete still had his eyes closed and was doing the whole unnatural breathing thing again. He had this little whistling sound coming from his nose from when Jack had damaged it earlier. They hadn't looked in a mirror yet, but Jack was guessing it was probably swollen. Pete seemed to be in a sort of lulled state; Jack could almost hear him counting to ten. Jack just wanted the eyes to open; it was boring being trapped in a body if you had nothing to look at. At least he had an arm to play with.
Jack just had an idea. It was a brilliant idea …also kind of flawed but it was worth a try. Jack reached out the arm while Pete was preoccupied with soothing himself and grabbed the phone off the side. He pressed three on the speed dial before Pete had time to react.
"What are you doing!" Pete screamed, instantly undoing all the hard work he had put in to make himself calm.
"Calling Sam," Jack said nonchalantly.
"Give it here!" Pete cried, jumping for the phone. The Colonel held the offending piece of technology away from the raving maniac whilst the ringing tone could be heard from the other end. Jack pressed on the speakerphone and waited for Carter to pick up. "Please give it!" Pete wailed as he tried to grab at his own hand- it was like a dog chasing it's own tail, every time Pete went to get it, Jack moved it a little further away.
"Carter," Sam's voice sounded from the speaker.
Pete sealed his mouth shut with wide eyes.
"Say something!" Jack yelled.
Pete shook his head vigorously and Jack whacked him around the head with the handset.
"Ow!"
"Hello?" Sam said again. "Who is this?"
"I want to get out of this body! Now please say something!"
"No, because this will all go away with medication!"
"Ha!" Jack chuckled triumphantly.
"Pete?" Sam said with a confused tone.
"Shit!" Pete slapped his hand to his forehead. "Hi…honey," he said nervously towards the extended phone.
"Pete? Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine! Don't worry! There's nothing to see here! Nice weather we're having! Okay, bye now! Love you," Pete whipped his hand up, taking Jack by surprise and hung up the phone then flung it across the room.
There was silence for a while as Pete lay himself down on the couch, his face firmly lodged in between two pillows.
"You're not that smart, are you?"
"Shut up."
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
Sam stared at the phone incredulously for a few moments before hanging up and putting back on holder with a click. She turned to look at her empty lab not even registering the half completed report glowing on her laptop screen. Pete had acted strangely. The thing that made it even more unsettling was the fact that Pete never acted strangely. Pete was anything but. It was part of the reason why he was so appealing to her, he was as normal as you could get, you could set a clock by his daily routine.
She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. She didn't need any more problems. The great urge to make her way down to the infirmary was nagging at the back of her mind again. She would be there right now if Janet hadn't thrown her out minutes previously with orders of sleep and food. It was useless. She had slept! Not the whole night but more than she thought she would. As for food, she just wasn't hungry right now and probably wouldn't be later.
Sam sat down at the lab stool in front of her laptop and tried to concentrate on the document in front of her but her heart wasn't in it. Worrying was stupid, they'd been in worse positions, right? She racked her brains to find a time when they had been in more dire situations and came up empty. They faced death at the hands of the enemy everyday but this was a whole different enemy and a whole different danger. One a gun or explosions couldn't destroy.
Snapping her laptop shut she made up her mind and marched out of her lab, the computer tucked safely under her arm. She knew Daniel was keeping watch but it didn't seem enough. If something changed she would want to be there and not be the third or fourth person to find out.
It was a short trip to the infirmary; Sam seemed to be on automatic as she entered the elevator and punched the button. She hugged her laptop to her stomach and lent against the far wall of the lift. Concern etched her features as she returned to the phone conversation she had with Pete. Why would he call and then not say anything of importance? He had sounded scared but not in any immediate danger. Maybe she should call back after she checked on Jack.
The doors pinged open and all thoughts of Pete slipped from her mind as she made her way down the familiar corridor and into the infirmary. Her breathe caught in her throat as she saw her commanding officer. Tubes and machines surrounded and invaded him, obscuring his face and crowding his bed. He looked so pale and peaceful; you could mistake him for just being asleep. Her heart yearned for the sight of him waking up right now and asking why the hell they were keeping him here.
Daniel was dutifully sitting to one side, his nose in a book he was hardly paying attention to and he glasses halfway down his nose as he peered over them at the occupant of the bed.
"Any change?" Sam asked.
Daniel looked up and pushed his glasses back up towards her face then shook his head. "Janet says I shouldn't let you in here," he said with a smile.
"What Janet doesn't know won't hurt her," she grinned and pulled up another chair. "Where's Teal'c?"
"He's gone to get some food," the archaeologist cleared his throat and went back to reading his book.
Sam exhaled loudly and rubbed her eyes. SG-1 had been like this for the last few days while Jack slept. Whatever Sophie had done had really taken a lot out of her and Jack and neither of them had surfaced from their comatose state. Sam glanced past Jack's bed to the one at the other end of the room where the small woman was hooked up to her own cluster of machines. By the time she had finished whatever she had been doing, she had aged considerably and the strength had been sapped out of her, it had been a mad rush to get them back to the Stargate in time to save them.
Neither of them had improved since then and neither of them seemed to be getting any worse either. Janet had warned them that it was rare that people woke up from these types of comas. The bottom line was that in a month, if they hadn't woken up, they would be considering just pulling the plug.
