Author's Note - My hard drive died today. Fortunately I had saved what I've written on my daughter's laptop, but between working and buying a new computer I don't think I will be writing much new material. I will continue to post what I have, but there will probably be several days between updates. Sorry about this - I will finish the story and write the next part of General Jack as soon as everything is back to normal. Thanks so much for the great reviews. I won't be replying to any individually, but I really appreciate the kind words - Flatkatsi

The Fire Still Burns – Part 3

Although it wasn't unusual for the SGC to have bad days when everything just seemed to stack up until the pile toppled and it all started to tumble down, normally General Hammond was the steadying hand, there to hold back the avalanche and keep some measure of order. Without him, and without the support of O'Neill, Colonel Makepeace could only do so much. Two offworld SG teams had come in hot, with some minor Goa'uld's Jaffa hard on their heels. The firefight had been short, but fierce, and there had been serious injuries, not just to the returning teams, but to two of the SF guards.

When the smoke cleared, the Jaffa were dead and the SGC had been able to tend to its wounded.

The clean up took hours. Equipment damaged in the rain of staff blasts and bullets needed to be replaced, extra personnel had to be called in, and arrangements had to be made to treat the most seriously wounded at the Academy Hospital. Security around the SGC was tightened as the comings and goings of staff and injured grew. Colonel Makepeace called D.C. and spoke to Hammond. It looked like the general wouldn't be able to return for at least another twenty-four hours.

And Robert Makepeace vowed he'd never ever ask for another promotion.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

It wasn't like they'd forgotten about Colonel O'Neill. There had been that nagging feeling in the back of Sam's mind that she should check up on him, but she'd been run off her feet getting equipment functioning again. Daniel had been busy too, filling in wherever he could, despite his injury, but it wasn't until Teal'c went past at the head of a security detail that Sam realized all her teammates had been as occupied as she was. Even so, it was still another couple of hours before she had time to head down to the Colonel's quarters. She picked up Daniel on the way as he headed for a much needed break.

There was no answer when they tapped at the door on Level 25.

"Maybe he's asleep."

Daniel shook his head at Sam's suggestion. "Knock again. Jack is a very light sleeper, he should have answered."

Another knock got no response. Giving Daniel a quick look and getting a nod in return, Sam turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Their gaze went immediately to the rumpled bed, its linen lying in haphazard piles and trailing on the floor.

"Sir?"

Through the partially open door of the bathroom came a mumbled grunt. "What?"

Exchanging another concerned look with Daniel, Sam took the few steps toward the other room. "Are you okay?"

"No."

At the single, flat reply, Sam peered around the door. What she saw had her hurrying forward.

Colonel O'Neill was on his knees, half gripping the toilet, half lying on the floor. He raised a pale, sweat soaked face and gave a low groan.

"Where the hell have you been?" The question was ground out, the accusation plain in its bitter tone.

Sam saw her own confusion reflected on Daniel's face "Things have been a bit chaotic. We had two teams come in hot…"

"I know that. Yeah, I know that." For a second it was as if O'Neill was in another world, his words fading into a bewildered murmur. "We have to get out of…"

"Sir? Get out of where?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Carter?"

Feeling more and more confused by the conversation, Sam bent forward, gripping her CO's right arm tightly in an effort to help him stand. "Come on, sir, let's get you back to bed."

The colonel nodded slowly. He shifted sideways and took more weight on his knees as if he was about to get up, but he barely managed to rise an inch before he slumped forward again, his head over the toilet bowl, and threw up.

"I'll call Janet." Daniel gave O'Neill a worried look as he turned awkwardly and left the room, his crutch thumping on the bathroom tiles.

Several minutes went by before the colonel stopped retching and was quiet, his head hanging, taking in large gulps of air as Sam patted him on the back in a vague attempt at comfort.

"Janet wanted to know if this was the first time he'd vomited," Daniel said as he returned to the doorway. "I told her I didn't know. She said she can't leave the infirmary – to get him into bed and she'll send a nurse down to check if he needs to be admitted." He gave Sam another worried look. "There's no free beds."

"Not the first time." Colonel O'Neill's arm thumped against Sam's leg and she bent again to take it, pulling the man up. "Been here for hours." The colonel stayed slightly hunched over, as if protecting his stomach. "At least it seems like hours."

"Why didn't you call someone, Jack?"

They took one short step and Daniel pushed past to stand at Jack's other side as if to help support him, although what he thought he could achieve while holding himself up on crutches, Sam had no idea.

"Couldn't get up. Keep… God!"

Sam was just in time to turn and aim the colonel at the toilet again.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"He's hot." Daniel called, drawing his hand back from Jack's forehead as the other man gave a small, irritated toss of his head. "I think he's sick."

"Well, duh. And I can hear you, you know." Jack grumbled, his half-closed eyes glaring up at them. "I thought it was just a cold."

Sam's face appeared around the bathroom door. "It's more than a cold, sir." She disappeared again, reappearing to the sound of the toilet flushing. "A cold doesn't make you this sick. How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy." Jack shivered as he spoke, his shoulders twitching. "And cold."

Reaching for a blanket, Daniel added it to the one already covering his friend, wondering how someone could feel cold when obviously running a temperature. He had barely sat back in his chair when there was a tap on the door.

Sam came out of the bathroom, wiping her hands. "I'll get it."

There were a few words exchanged then Captain Duarte, one of Janet's most experienced nurses, entered.

"Doctor Fraiser said the colonel has been vomiting?"

Daniel nodded as he watched her take an electronic thermometer and, lifting Jack's t-shirt, place the sensor under his arm. "Apparently for some time. He says he's dizzy."

The nurse frowned at the readout on the thermometer's screen. "Any other symptoms?"

"Itchy." Jack's eyes flickered open again.

"What's itchy, sir?"

His hands came up as if he was about to indicate something, but fell weakly back. "Neck. And I've got a headache." He paused and swallowed. "Sore throat."

Duarte had already wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm and now wrote the results down in a small notebook. She slipped it back into her pocket and leaned forward.

"Could you sit up for me, please, sir? I'd like to check the wound on your neck." Although Jack clearly found it a little hard to sit, she helped him before Daniel could even try, expertly slipping the pillow up to support him.

"If you would bend your head forward, please?"

Daniel exchanged a concerned look with Sam as Jack did as the nurse asked, visibly paling as he swayed slightly. It didn't take long for the bandage and dressing over the gruesome wound to be removed. To Daniel's untutored eyes the thin, raised line, crisscrossed with stitches, looked okay, without the telltale sign of redness he knew heralded infection.

"It looks fine, Colonel," the captain reassured him as she rebandaged the injury. "Just a couple more tests and I'm done." She checked Jack's throat, then took the stethoscope from her neck and listened to his chest. "Deep breaths, please, sir." She nodded and gave Sam and Daniel a quick smile. "Sounds clear and the vomiting seems to have stopped. I don't think it's anything serious, but I'll make sure Doctor Fraiser gets these results straight away. Okay, Colonel?"

Jack gave a tired nod as she helped him to lie back down.

"Is he really all right?" Daniel asked in a low voice as he and Sam accompanied the nurse to the door. "He seemed pretty bad."

Captain Duarte waited until they were in the corridor before answering. "To be honest, I'm not sure. There is some minor irritation in his throat, but apart from that everything looks good."

"He vomited violently and said he'd been feeling sick for about an hour before we arrived," Sam interrupted.

"That's what concerns me. There's no indication of anything seriously wrong with him, but I'll tell Doctor Fraiser what you've told me." She frowned, pulling out her notebook and turning the pages. "His temperature is a little high, but again, it isn't too bad."

"He said he was cold."

"Really?" At Daniel's nod, her frown deepened. "That's odd. Two of our more seriously injured patients are being transferred to the Academy Hospital shortly. That will free up a bed and we can get Colonel O'Neill admitted. In the meantime, could one of you stay with him?"

"Sure," Daniel agreed immediately. "I should rest my leg anyway."

"Thanks, Doctor Jackson. Make sure he has plenty of water and if he begins vomiting again call the infirmary immediately." Duarte gave them both a smile, the elevator opening as she did so. "I'll give Doctor Fraiser my report."

Daniel waited until the elevator had gone before turning to slowly follow Sam back down the corridor to Jack's room. His leg was aching and he would be grateful for the opportunity to sit for a while.

By the time he was back at Jack's bedside, Sam had already replaced the blankets, tucking them around him.

"I use to do that with Charlie. Every night when I was home." Jack sniffed and for an awful second Daniel thought he was crying, but gave a relieved laugh when he sneezed loudly.

"Here, sir." Sam handed Jack a tissue, throwing Daniel a quick glare which cut his laughter short. While Jack noisily blew his nose she hurried back to the bathroom, returning with a damp washcloth. "Would you like…" Her words faded into an embarrassed mumble.

"Let me." Daniel took the cloth and gently wiped it across Jack's face. He ignored the hand that tried to swipe it away as the traces of vomit and sweat slowly disappeared.

Sam looked at her watch and frowned. "I better get back to the Control Room. I was only meant to have a thirty minute break. Will you be okay?"

Daniel nodded. "Sure. If anything changes I'll let you know, otherwise we'll probably be in the infirmary by the time you get off duty."

"I'll check there first." She bent over Jack and gave him a searching look, frowning. "Colonel?" The resulting silence prompted her to state the obvious. "He's asleep."

"Best thing for him."

"Yes. I'll let Teal'c know what's happening."

Once Sam left, Daniel made himself comfortable, propping his injured leg up on the end of Jack's bed and settling a little more into the chair cushion. He'd been on his feet for far too long and although he was worried about Jack, he was also pleased at the chance to rest.

It wasn't long before he had joined his friend in sleep.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

TBC