Author's Note: Thanks for the nice reviews. They're very encouraging, particularly in getting sufficient motivation to write about a spring storm while I'm baking in 40 degrees celsius. The next part should be up in about 2 weeks again.
Part Five
The fog hung heavy in every direction, casting the landscape around her in a dim monochromatic light. She had with her a day pack, her jacket, an additional jacket for warmth and also her rain poncho should the rain start falling again.
Everything was eerily quiet now that the rain had stopped falling. She could hear faint dripping and the rustling of plants heavy with moisture, but all those sounds were thin and spread out. In contrast, her footfalls and breathing seemed deafening. Each breath pushed out a puff of mist.
Her radio remained close at hand, but silent. Daniel had the other side, and apart from their rote check-ins every fifteen minutes, they had barely spoken three words to each other since waking. Also, as a precaution, Sam toted along her MP-5.
She knew it was almost certainly only Daniel and herself left on this isolated slough, but she couldn't help remembering the crashed ship. An exciting find, absolutely. But it also cast into doubt their earlier theory about this planet being far too remote to be visited by ship.
Sam shook her head. No one could have possibly survived a crash as horrific as the one that resulted in the warped pile of metal they'd found. She was simply getting a little paranoid after so many days in tight quarters with Daniel staring straight into her brain, ad having absolutely nothing to do.
Sam's feet slid against the thick mud beneath her, and it felt like every step forward she slipped exactly the same distance backwards. It reminded her or sand, oddly enough. And sand made her think of Abydos, and Sha're and god-damn, she was out here to complete a task. She could sort this all out later.
The downhill journey was slow going, surreal almost. She kept an eye out for stray branches and sudden drops and depressions in the ground. There was a steady wind blowing against her face, and her ears were stinging with cold.
Next time, she needed to get stranded on a tropical beach. With Teal'c.
---
Daniel sat in the tent, unexpectedly lonely. He pulled an extra blanket closer around his shoulders and wished very bitterly for a warm hat. He may have been on the verge of shaking Sam into some sense, but nonetheless he appreciated he her presence.
He probably had ruined their friendship forever by pressing the issue last night. But then again, what else was he supposed to do? He only hoped that he hadn't made her even more resistant than before to the idea of confronting her memories. He hated the pain he had caused Sam, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it.
He gently pressed against his injured ankle, pleased to see that most of the swelling was gone, and it didn't cause him too much pain. At least he'd be able to get himself back to the gate, whenever the water decided to go down.
Behind him, he heard a faint shuffling sound. He turned his head and listened closely. Was it one of those giant squirrels? Or maybe it was something a bit larger and more carnivorous. He reached for his berretta and felt an extra pang for Sam's presence.
There, he heard it again. Branches swaying and the ground squishing. With his gun ready, Daniel Jackson quietly pulled on his boots, and opened up the tent zipper. Peering outwards, he looked for the source of the sound. All he could see was fog.
Unsettled, he realized anything could be mere feet away, and he wouldn't know it. Teal'c might, be he certainly wouldn't. He ducked back into the tent making as little sound as possible and decided he was safest staying inside.
---
Sam reached the edge of the water far sooner than she expected. The fog was so thick, she still couldn't see the gate, but taking in account how high she still was on the valley wall the gate was definitely still submerged.
"Fuck." She said aloud, knowing no one would hear her.
The data crystal was important, but right now all she thinking about was her father flying back to DC alone, thinking that his only daughter had simply found something better to do than see him. Irrationally, he eyes filled tears and she rapidly blinked them away. The biting wind helped.
She turned on a heel and headed back uphill for camp. With Daniel, and his new favourite game to twenty questions. She felt frustration tight in her gut, just begging to claw its way out. She clenched her jaw and reached for her radio to break the news to Daniel.
A heavy drop of water fell on her head, and slid down the front of her face.
Rain. It was more rain. What else could have been appropriate?
Halfway back and one more radio check later the rain started to feel heavier. Each drop impacted her head and shoulders like little rocks. Sam held out her hand and wasn't surprised to see thick sleet falling instead of water. She sighed. There was no way she could get back to camp any faster.
Less than five minutes later Sam found herself struggling to take a single step and remain upright. Her feet slid on virtually every piece of ground. Every step uphill led to a farther slip downhill. She was panting from exertion, her face still frozen but her body uncomfortably warm. Sweat fell down the small of her back and became icy when it reached the edge of her jacket.
With dogged persistence, she managed to make some progress. She was closer to camp, but it was taking her nearly five times longer than it normally would.
Something soft hit her nearly numb cheek. She peered up into the uniformly grey sky. Billions of flakes slowly drifted downwards. She hung her head. Going to see if the gate was uncovered was not one of her brightest ideas.
---
Daniel was cold.
He was curled up and shivering, waiting for Sam to check in by radio. He didn't regret what he said to Sam last night, but perhaps it hadn't been the right time and place. His words driven her out of their camp, he knew this for certain. Part of him might have even wanted to push her out.
Sam faced most challenges with confidence and enthusiasm, but where her emotional self-awareness was concerned, she was the master of avoidance. He had known exactly how she would respond.
He should never have called her a coward. Not while trapped on a planet, at the very least. He needed to apologize, help her understand. The more he thought about it, the more guilty he felt.
Daniel grabbed for his radio. The next scheduled check in was in less than five minutes, but this couldn't wait.
"Sam this is Daniel. Come in?"
He waited a beat. And then another, longer one.
Frowning, he tried again. "Sam? Sam can you hear me? Please respond."
There was an immeasurable silence, every second pushing a little more dread into Daniel's chest.
"Sam! Sam, please respond!"
Nothing. Damn.
He pulled on as many pieces of dry clothing as he could find, and slipped on three pairs of socks, one pair which by their size, must have originated from Teal'c supplies.
Once he was fully dressed he grabbed a flashlight, a small day pack, and his Berretta. For the oversized squirrels he told himself.
He stepped outside of the tent, gingerly putting weight on his injured ankle. It felt sore, but mostly alright. It would do.
The moment he stepped clear of the cave walls, he was hit was a frigid wind and a flurry of snowflakes. He slammed his eyes shut in response. When had it started snowing? Squinting, he noticed that every inch of the visible area around him was cloaked in a thin layer of white.
He was never very good with snow. Maybe there was just interference, and Sam was fine.
Daniel tried the radio again. "Sam, can you hear me?"
His response was a wailing gust of wind.
Sam had told him her general route and her location during the last radio check in. He knew she wasn't too far away, but finding her in this flurry was going to be a challenge.
It took him nearly fifteen minutes to slide his way down to where he thought Sam would be. The hem of his pants was drenched in wet snow and the moisture spread up to the back of his knees. Ice slid down the sides of his face and into his eyes.
Despite the chaotic snowfall, the entire world was absolutely silent. Dreamlike.
"Sam?" He yelled. His voice reverberated around the valley faintly.
He trudged down a particularly steep pass, his arms reaching along several large tree trunks for balance.
"Sam?" He tried again, louder. Nothing but echoes in response.
He paused to take a good look around him. Heavy snow pressed down on all of the recently budded trees, and the ground was caked with ice, tiny rivulets throughout with ice water running through in streams.
No sign of her.
He descended further into the valley, hoping that he hadn't missed her.
He kept his eyes on the ground for the most part, in a hopeless attempt to find the most solid footing. In his peripheral vision, he noticed an unusual looking depression in the wet slush. He took a closer look, and wiping some slush away with his hand he found himself staring at Sam's MP-5.
"No," He jumped back. "No, no..."
"Sam!"
Paying no attention to the slush, he fell to his knees and started pushing snow and slush aside. Almost immediately he hit something heavy. An arm. His hands shook as he pushed away more snow and he followed her arm up to find her the rest of her, her upper body only covered by a very thin layer of snow. She had been just out of his line of sight, obscured by a slight rise in the ground.
His numbed fingers reached for her neck and immediately he found a pulse. It was a little slow, but definitely present. He sighed with relief. Touching her face with one hand, he gently shook her shoulder with his other.
"Sam, wake up." He said in a clear voice.
A stray snowflake stuck to an eyelash as she slowly blinked her eyes open.
Daniel noticed that one side of her hair was matted with darkened blood. The slush underneath was stained light pink. She'd lost her footing on the ice, he surmised. Oh god, did she have a neck or back injury? What would he do then?
She definitely had a head injury and hypothermia, and he knew she wasn't going to be coherent.
How was he going to get her back to camp? He couldn't carry her – he could barely keep his balance alone with all this sleet. It was too cold, and she'd already been out here too long. He realized there wasn't time to take any precautions; he just needed to somehow get her back up to camp.
If he could just get her awake enough to lean on his shoulder and walk.
"Get up Sam. We have to go." He shook her shoulder roughly.
She made some unintelligible mumbles and slowly opened her eyes.
"Common, let's get up." He lifted her upper body so she was in a sitting position, only now becoming aware that both he and Sam were completely drenched. She leaned completely against him, her head hanging against her chest.
"Sam, wake up. SAM."
"Wha?" He heard her mutter.
"We need to get back to camp." He explained.
"M'tired." Her body relaxed.
Now that Daniel had stopped moving he was feeling the cold seeping deep inside of him. His fingers were already numb, and he had no doubt that he was already in the starting stages of hypothermia himself. There had to be a way to get Sam back to camp. He just had to think, and he'd come to a solution.
Carry her. No that wouldn't work, the ground was too icy and his ankle was still fragile. He couldn't get her to stand up so they could both stagger back to camp either. So then...
"Captain!" He shouted, inwardly wincing. "Get the hell up off you ass right now."
She immediately stiffened. "Sir?"
Daniel channelled his inner Jack O'Neill. The words felt awkward on his tongue and startling to his ears. "Officers don't sleep on the job. What are you, a helpless child?"
Sam groped awkwardly at his arm, stiffly trying to rise. Her eyes looked scattered and exhausted, but defiant. "N-no s'r? No…."
She didn't sound very certain, but muscles trembled fiercely in an attempt to stand up. He supported her weight, her one shoulder slung around his. Suddenly Daniel noticed he was violently shivering, and he wondered how he could have failed to notice that until now.
It took a significant amount of time to get them both to their feet. He found himself stunned that his stupid plan had worked, but thankful.
Painstakingly, they made their way up the valley.