Author's Note: I'm back - with a completely new computer. I managed to save all my documents including my stories but lost a heap of other stuff (my music, photos, a lot of emails etc.) I'm very busy recreating everything so haven't had time to write much more than what you see here, but I'll start working on the story again in a day or so. I hope you enjoy this part.
Flatkatsi
The Fire Still Burns – Part 4
Jack lay for a moment, trying to work out where he was. It was the sound of soft snoring from beside the bed that gave him his first clue. He looked over to find Daniel sound asleep, chin tucked down onto his chest and glasses askew.
Memories of being sick as a dog flashed up in his head and he grimaced. His mouth tasted like the inside of a septic tank. Easing his legs slowly over the side of the bed, he carefully avoided Daniel's injured one and got them to the floor without waking the other man. Jack found it surprisingly easy to stand, his head giving only a few comparatively gentle thumps before settling into a steady, dull throbbing. With a slight hesitation in his step, he made it to the tiny bathroom and filled the glass on the basin with water, staring into the mirror as he swilled a mouthful around and spat it out before drinking the rest down. The face looking back at him was pale, with dark rings circling tired eyes.
Feeling the beginning of a sneeze, Jack pulled some toilet paper from the roll and blew his nose, then sniffling, tore off more paper and just managed to get it up to his face before three huge sneezes erupted from him in quick succession.
"Jack? What are you doing out of bed?"
"I'm in the bathroom, what do you think?" Just to make his point, he used the toilet and flushed it before filling the glass again and turning to return to the bedroom.
Daniel was sitting, both feet once more on the floor. "I don't think you should be up."
Waving his free hand at Daniel, Jack walked back to the bed, carefully balancing the nearly full glass. "I could say the same about you. Shouldn't you be resting that leg? You should go lie down in your own quarters."
Daniel shook his head emphatically. "No. I promised Ann Duarte I'd keep an eye on you. I'm not going anywhere and you're getting into bed." He moved the sheet and blanket, making it clear he expected Jack to get back under the covers.
Not wanting to aggravate his headache with a shouting match, Jack finished the water and handed Daniel the glass. "All right, but only because I know this cold won't get any better if I don't. It isn't like I'm really sick or anything." He sniffed loudly and pointed at the tissue box now out of reach on the table. "Can you…"
"You were really sick." Daniel handed him the box and Jack positioned it at his side as he slid back down under the blanket. "And you look terrible."
"Yeah, well, you'd be throwing up if you'd swallowed the amount of nose crap I have over the last couple of hours." He finished the sentence with yet another loud sneeze and a shiver. "Could you rustle me up another blanket? I'm freezing." While Daniel went searching through the small closet, he added, "Really, Daniel, maybe you shouldn't be in here. Goodness knows what germs I'm spreading around and you're already injured."
"I'm staying." Daniel spread the blanket he had found over Jack as he answered. "Now be quiet and go back to sleep."
"Yes, mom."
Jack shut his eyes, knowing sleep was exactly what his body needed right now. As he felt the watchful eyes of his friend gazing at him, he just wished he was at home in his own bed – alone. This certainly seemed a lot of fuss for a simple cold.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
"Major Mansfield and Sergeant Baker have been transferred to the Academy Hospital and the other wounded are all doing well. Most have minor staff weapon burns and Lieutenant Baker has a broken arm." Janet Fraiser looked up from her notes and took a good look at the officer in front of her. "Things seem to be under control now, sir. Can I suggest you get a few hours sleep?"
Colonel Makepeace shook his head wearily. "Wish I could, Doc, but there's still a lot of cleaning up to be done. How's Colonel O'Neill? Someone told me he was sick or something."
Janet had to smile at the wistful tone in the man's voice. It was obvious Colonel Makepeace had found the last few days rather 'trying' to put it mildly. She had plenty of sympathy for him – being thrown straight into command of the base after coming back from a stressful mission, then the fire fight in the gate room to add to the mess.
"I took a quick look at the colonel before I came to report and he's certainly under the weather. He's got a very bad cold and I've confined him to his quarters. I don't want him in the infirmary with the injured for obvious reasons." She saw Colonel Makepeace nod in understanding and continued, "I could send him home, but after what happened on Hathor's planet I want him here where I can keep an eye on him."
Makepeace gave her a searching look. "Is he okay, really? I mean, that must have been a shit awful thing, having one of those snakes inside, crawling around like that."
"He seems to have come out of it with nothing but a cold from the two cryogenic freezings." She paused, thinking about what Colonel Makepeace had just said and not liking what her brain was telling her. "But I haven't had a chance to properly go over the test results yet and…"
"And?" the colonel repeated, but she didn't answer immediately, instead she gave herself time to carefully word her reply.
"And there will, of course, be a mandatory psych evaluation."
Makepeace shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Yeah, gotta love those psych evaluations. I don't envy Jack that one."
"No." Smiling brightly, Janet began to stand. "Do you have any idea when General Hammond is due back, sir?"
"Not really, Doctor. Hopefully soon though."
Janet gave a commiserating nod. "I better get back to my patients. I'll let you know if there are any changes."
"Thanks. And I better get back to my paperwork." Makepeace was already turning to a report as she left the office.
By the time she'd reached the elevator, Janet had mentally reviewed the symptoms Colonel O'Neill had exhibited. By the time the elevator doors opened, she was seriously wishing General Hammond was on the base so she could talk to him. And by the time she reached her own office, she was genuinely worried.
Shivering and complaints of being cold even when exhibiting an elevated temperature.
Itchy neck, despite the site of the wound showing no sign of infection.
Vomiting.
She closed her door and pulled her office chair out to sit staring blankly down at the papers on her desk.
Did Colonel O'Neill have more than a cold? Because when put together like that all the symptoms added up to something more psychological than physical. Had she been too ready to dismiss his experience with Hathor's Goa'uld because of his own easy dismissal of it? Could it really have been just shrugged off like that?
No way could she admit her suspicions to Colonel Makepeace. He would just pass them further up the line and before O'Neill knew it he would be sitting in a nice cozily padded room under Doctor MacKenzie's care.
All the test results weren't back yet and no one really knew what effects being in a cryogenic sleep for so long were. Plus there was implantation of a Goa'uld to consider as well – the physical effects of which were still unknown. Just because Colonel O'Neill's symptoms didn't seem related, didn't mean they weren't. Damn it, having a snake burrow into your neck surely did more to a person than just produce physical scars!
And she was back to psychological problems.
She rested her head in her hands, wishing she could turn the clock back a month and stop the whole awful mission from ever happening.
Damn but she wanted General Hammond back!
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Sam cautiously opened the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. It had taken far longer than she had expected to complete the repairs needed on the system and run diagnostics, and now it was long after most sensible people would have gone home to bed. Not that anyone ever accused her of being sensible when it came to her work. In fact it was the very person she was now coming to check on that gave her the most problems
As the door opened, she realized the futility of trying to keep quiet in case her CO was asleep. O'Neill and Daniel were arguing, loudly.
"Leave me alone, damn it, I'm not nuts!" There was a thump and something whacked into the wall by the doorway, narrowly missing her. To her stunned amazement it looked like the colonel had thrown one of his boots and by the force of the impact it had been intended to hurt whoever it had been aimed at. She was almost too astounded by the action to look, but look she did – only to find Daniel standing almost directly in front of her, rubbing his chest.
What was that about not being nuts? Jack O'Neill didn't normally throw things at his teammates and at this moment nuts seemed a pretty good way to describe his behavior.
"Go to hell, Jack!" Daniel shouted back. The two men looked like they were about to come to blows. Sam's eyes widened in shock but she barely had time to register the reaction before Daniel spun, awkwardly pushing past her, his crutch squeaking on the smooth floor, to storm out the door.
"That goes for you too, Carter. Get out of here!" Her CO was shouting, eyes blazing with anger. He grabbed a glass from beside his bed and making as if to throw it. Sam didn't need a second warning - she hurriedly left, slamming the door behind her and running after Daniel.
"What happened?" she asked when she caught up with Daniel further up the corridor.
"He threw a boot at me, what do you think?" Daniel replied angrily, stopping in his tracks to face her. He was still rubbing at his chest, his face flushed.
"Yes, but what did you do? Why's he so upset? It looked like he was going to throw something at me as well and I hadn't even been in the room!" Sam's heart was pounding in her chest, the shock of being verbally and almost physically assaulted by her CO still pumping adrenaline through her body.
Waving his free hand in the air, Daniel snapped back an answer. "Why's it got to be my fault? You know Jack when he's ill, he gets snippy."
"Come on – that was more than just snippy and you know it. What did you do?"
This time the reply wasn't so quick in coming. Daniel's eyes flickered to the right, almost as if he was afraid to face her, and when he spoke it was with far less emotion. "I was thinking about it while Jack was resting and I just suggested some of his symptoms might be psychological, an after effect of being snaked and all the trauma. Christ, talk about overreacting."
It took a moment for Sam to take in exactly what Daniel had said. When she did, she virtually exploded in his face, unable to stop from shouting the incredulous words. "You told the colonel you thought he was crazy?!"
"You don't get snaked and get over it as easily as he would like to believe." Daniel took a step back, making a shushing motion, and Sam realized they had a very interested audience of at least three people. She turned to glare at the watching personnel and they scattered, disappearing back into the rooms lining the corridor. Once they had gone Daniel continued. "You of all people know that, after Jolinar."
"That was completely different, Daniel. Jolinar was in me for a while – long enough for some of her memories to become a part of me. The colonel only had the Goa'uld in him briefly before it was killed. I doubt it had time to do anything except try to survive." Raising a hand to her face, she rubbed her forehead, closing her eyes for a moment. Whether it was the stress of what had just happened or if she was getting the colonel's cold she didn't know, but she felt a tight band of tension taking hold across the front of her head. "And anyway, did you really think it would do any good to just come out with the suggestion? The man's sick – unless, of course, you think the sneezing and runny nose is psychosomatic?" She couldn't keep the sarcasm from her voice.
Daniel shook his head, slumping back against the wall. "No, of course not. But the cold doesn't explain the pain he's feeling in his neck."
"The damned big wound from the Goa'uld's exit does, though doesn't it!"
"And what if that's not it? Listen – add it up. Pain from a wound that's healing fine, vomiting for no reason – and don't tell me that's a typical symptom of a cold!"
"I can't believe you! You just accused the colonel of being nuts and then you get upset that he's angry." Sam glared back at her teammate as she began to turn toward Colonel O'Neill's room. No wonder he had been so furious, she thought. She was pulled up short by Daniel, his hand grabbing her arm.
"Don't!"
She pulled her arm from his grasp. "He shouldn't be left alone. Even you admit that he's sick."
To her surprise, Daniel stopped her again. "Wait. I didn't tell you everything. Jack didn't just throw his boots at me."
"What are you talking about?"
"Here." Pulling his sleeve up, Daniel thrust his left arm out. The clear imprints of fingers were vivid on the tanned skin, the area already beginning to darken with bruises. "He wasn't just angry. I've never seen him so furious. You should let him calm down." She hesitated and Daniel quickly spoke again. "Jack's a very dangerous man, Sam. You know that. And I don't think you should be alone with him right now. He might…"
Sam finished the sentence. "He might what? Attack me? Hurt me? You can't be serious!"
"You didn't see him. He's not himself." The quiet certainty in Daniel's voice was enough to make her pause. He didn't look angry any more, instead his expression was, if she didn't know better, scared. "Let's go see Janet first. We'll tell her what happened and get her to come down and check Jack out, okay?"
Sam found herself nodding, unable to do anything else while her friend was so obviously sincere in his worry. "All right, but if she can't come see the colonel straight away I'm coming back – no matter what you think."
"Fair enough." Daniel nodded. "But we see Janet first."
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
TBC