Title: Theoretical Astromedicinal Biology

Chapter: 11

Authors: Kiki

A/N: I trust you all enjoyed the last chapter. Wasn't too much procedural stuff was there?

Anyway, a HUGE thanks to Bekki for her help on this chapter.

Also note, that this chapter is 'pre-Ishtya'...soo… well you'll see…because you'll be thinking…"wait a minute…"

Enjoy!

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Previously on Stargate SG1….

"Listen. Down. Below or South." Daniel said, much like he did when he was explaining translations or on occasion, explaining crossword solutions to Daniel. "Att. Earth. Ancient. Ancient outpost. Ice. Antarctica. You get?"

"Following. Still. You. Not." Jack said, throwing up his hands in frustration, annoyed at not understanding, frowning at his friend. Jacob didn't look like he was fairing much better.

"I believe Daniel Jackson is saying that the cure can be found below the ice of Antarctica at the Ancient Outpost."

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Jack made his way absentmindedly around the base. Having already changed into workout clothes, he intended to heading toward the rec room. He had thought to grab a bite to eat at the commissary, but then decided that there were too many people there; something that he would rather avoid. Besides, he needed to think, and to vent.

The words of his Jaffa friend played on his mind. He knew his friend meant well, and hadn't intended it to come out quite the way it had. Still, it left Jack with a slight pang in his heart. If they couldn't actually save her, then the blood would be on his hands; he might as well have handed her off to the Goa'uld.

He pushed the doors open with a grunt, relieved that he had the room to himself. The punching bag was hanging in the far corner, waiting for him like a welcoming old friend. Yes, he had history with this piece of equipment, and it was in his view, by far the best psychological treatment available. He grabbed some gauze, wrapping it securely around his hands before slipping on the gloves.

Rolling his neck around, wincing as the cut on his neck, from where Daniel had thrown that pen at him neck, stung. He proceeded to loosen up, eager to start. The agitated bouncing on his toes belayed the jittery and anticipating pangs he was experiencing. Soon, he began, first attacking the bag in a flurry of hooks and punches. Sam wasn't his only worry at the moment; he had the rest of the team to worry about as well.

His mind rewound to just a quarter of an hour before, when there were all still in Daniel's lab. The gleam in his younger friend's eyes not only at deciphering a new language; but also at their discovery of vital information that could save someone so important that a value could not be put on them. But there was something else in his eyes, a kind of wild desperation that he had seen undo even the strongest of men trained against mind techniques.

Jack had seen this gleam, and he hadn't been altogether overjoyed at its presence. Privately wondered how his friend would handle it if he was wrong. Not that he was; Jack felt they were on the right track. But ever the cynical one, Jack entertained the possibility that if it was all wrong, he wasn't sure any of them could take another blow. Furthermore would be enough to crash the talented linguist beyond recovery of his former self. It had been a long ride, and they were all getting desperate.

They were running out of time, out of adrenaline and energy. Something was bound to give, it always did; it was just a matter of time. Running on adrenaline, anything tiny was liable to set off drastic reactions. And Daniel's mind was particularly vulnerable to such effects. He'd lost almost everything he'd ever had; his parents, his career, his mentor, his wife—even his life.

However, Daniel wasn't the only one showing signs of the burdening events. Teal'c looked worn beyond his 150 or so years, which was saying a lot. His previously sagged shoulders were now squared once again, but Jack couldn't help but notice the tenseness and occasional involuntary shudder that his comrade's shoulders offered from the strain.

The Jaffa was a quiet character, conservative and reserved; however his bond with the blonde-haired major ran deep and it was clearly affecting him. His stoic façade starting to show cracks of fatigue and traces of aftershock. There was no doubt Teal'c had lost many brother's along the way, perhaps as many as Jack himself; but that didn't mean he could handle it any better than Daniel or Jacob.

More than that, Jack knew that there was no woman that there was no living woman that Teal'c respected and was more important than Samantha Carter at this given point in time. To Teal'c she was the sister he never had, regardless of bloodlines or species. She was a part of life; she kept them in line, save their lives and let them have their fun. A Jaffa's loyalty was irrefutable and Jack had no doubt Teal'c would go beyond even that in order to retrieve her life. That was what scared Jack. Were Jack himself not prepared to go to such bounds, he would have been long gone.

Jacob would too, join their quest, as would Daniel; without a question. The father of Samantha Carter would take this extremely hard, harder than most, should the worst come to it. Not only would he be losing a daughter and an ally, he as losing someone he'd always wanted to know better; his second chance. His relationship had never been the best with either of his children, and what left of it had only led a downward spiral after his wife's death from cancer.

The blame from years ago would surface. Mark, as much as they had patched up, was bound to lash out at his father, blaming the Tok'ra-Earth ambassador for something that was not his fault. But the older man was exactly the same as Jack, in that he would take the blame for himself, even if it were not his to take. The bonds that Jacob had reformed with his children would be shattered.

Sadly thought, as Jack noted, it got considerably worse. Carter was the essence of the base, especially 'tech-life'. Felger, Siler and Walter would be just some of the geeks to miss her. Janet and Cassie, with whom she had close bonds, would be affected. She was like a second mother to the girl, who looked up to her immensely. Having lost her mother and people to the Goa'uld, Jack could only imagine how she would take to having another person she considered family killed by another aliens. And at the carelessness of someone she trusted implicitly too.

Then there was one who watched her since she was but a young cadet at the academy, and even before that. General Hammond, who had always taken her under his wing, would take a personal blow, not just one of profession. Her contributions to Earth's security had been one of the biggest from any one given person; they would have lost a priceless natural resource—if not a treasure.

And then there was Jack himself.

Jack didn't consider much to live for if she wasn't in his life. To him, he saw the same slum as he did when Charlie died. He was determined to stick around to support Daniel and the others. But he saw no other reason to live; he knew he would never love another quite the same as he had Samantha Carter. Never Sara, never Laira; only Samantha. From the moment she stopped breathing, his life would turn black and white, and there would be no point anymore. The only thing between him and death right now, was to desire to stop leaving his other half to an inevitable fate.

No, he wouldn't try to take his life like he had after Charlie's death. That would only cause more damage to his fractured family. But he knew that his time would come soon; for a heart could only survive for so long without a home. Much like a fish out of water.

The silver-headed Colonel paused his furious assault on the now dented bag still swing slightly from his blows. Panting heavily, he allowed his gloved hands dropped to fall limply by his sides. He rested his forehead against the cool plastic covering, trying to catch his breath as well as realign his thoughts. He wanted clarity and to be rid of this confused mass of guilt and emotion. Jack O'Neill was a man of many tragic losses, and as a result, one death inadvertently linked to another; and yet another one he may have to make.

His mind was reminded of the pain associated with Charlie's goodbye. His only son, taken by his own insecurity for personal safety. If he hadn't decided to leave the safety off the weapon, for the convenience of fast firing, things could have been very different. His son could still be alive. But then he would have never met her. That was the one reason that Jack had always used to stop his mind from dwelling in the possibilities and alternate realities of what could be.

Jack had never forgiven himself, guilt still wracked him to this very day, but the days he could forget, were the days that he was with her. A part of him was convinced that this was all some cruel twist of fate that the greater powers that be had bestowed upon his life. It was some knife to the gut to have his own son take his own life with his side arm; it was a twist of the same knife to kill the woman you loved through his own misaction.

He clearly remembered the day and doctor telling him that Charlie wouldn't make it through the night. He recalled numbly calming a sobbing Sara, all the while trying to hold in his own tears, threatening to overspill. He had never been a particularly religious man, but he remembered the feeling of absolute helplessness, and for the first time in years, in the hospital chapel, he had prayed to whatever guardian there was, for a miracle.

The miracle that had never come in time.

The goodbye was sad and tearful, but quiet. Not at all unlike the one Samantha in the hologram had offered him. He'd allowed himself several quiet moments; talking to the son he would never see again and saying his goodbyes. Then he'd instructed the doctor to turn off the life-sustaining equipment, before bolting out of the room. In the end, Jack had never seen his son die. He almost regretted it sometimes, and felt ashamed that he had not punished himself nor had the resolve to watch his son leave this world. A coward.

But a part of him knew that it was not something he was supposed to watch, he didn't deserve that dignity. Didn't deserve to be there. To watch the slow, etching seeping of life from his son would have surely broken him. For a while, he'd thought that his pain had gone unheard, overlooked and that a miracle had simply forgone him. Perhaps he was beyond repair. So he'd enlisted in the top secret mission; a suicide mission. What was left of his life would be taken care of. He would try to rectify the impurities within him. It would take a miracle, but he would die protecting his people.

But his miracle had soon come in the form first of a bespectacled spacemonkey. And somewhere along the way, his plans of blowing up an alien planet got scrapped. And then he'd received the ultimate gift in his incomplete life; in the form of a vivacious and spirited woman who knew how to set him in his place. On one hand alone, he could count the number of women that spoke to him like that and would not succumb to his stony stare, and still have three fingers left. His mother and one Major Samantha Carter.

He'd met her, and he'd pulled himself out again. He was determined for things to go different. At first he hadn't exactly taken a shine to her—he had this thing about scientist. But eventually, they'd found common ground and bonded into comradeship and found Teal'c, completing the team.

Interestingly, he'd initially, gotten along with the former First Prime to his mortal enemy than his 2IC. But over the course of a few missions, she'd earned her a place of high respect in his book. From their, their relationship had only evolved into friendship, before pushing the far limits that one would hold between a plutonic and romantic relationship. That was where they were now.

Suddenly wounds he thought had healed long ago began to open once again and a new painful anguish gripped him. He tried straightened up from his doubled position. The prison of his mind evidently being too much for him in his downward spiral into despair, as the soft knocking at the door had gone unbeknownst to him.

He swayed slightly, feeling blood coursing everywhere at once. It wasn't until Teal'c had appeared by his side and offered an arm to steady him that he realised that he had company at all. Once assured that his friend could balance on his own accord, the Jaffa stood straight as always with his hands clasped behind his back with his face baring a solemn yet comforting expression. Jack smiled his thanks and indicated that they go sit down on the table and chairs in the corner of the room.

"I was seeking your company, and Daniel Jackson told me I might find you here," he began. Jack let his hands fall into his lap, gloves still securely in placed. He tried to scratch his nose, only to be met with a fistful of red leathery stuff, causing him to wrinkle his nose at the smell.

"He knows me too well," he replied with a hint of the old Jack O'Neill humour. Teal'c walked forward and sat on a chair bringing his hands around to his front and placing them on the table between them.

"I was wishing to apologise for what I may have said to upset you before, O'Neill. I only…"

"Don't think anything of it Tee. It was actually kind of—refreshing." Jack said, waving off the attempted apology. "Although, if it gets you to drop by and visit every once in a while, you should do it more often."

Teal'c refrained from pulling a face, having more an important matter to cover, "You are troubled O'Neill. Is there anything you wish to discuss?" Teal'c asked with a genuine concern for his friend.

Jack sighed and looked at his thumbs as he twiddled. He knew Teal'c was a smart man, but he didn't know he was a mind reader. He suddenly had the urge to punch a Jaffa Urgo instead of a punching bag.

"It's not just the situation with Carter; it's just reminding me so much of my own son and his…" Jack paused; he couldn't even bring himself to say it. "You know".

"Indeed O'Neill. Being a father myself I know the pain of losing a son. Even though he is still alive now, there is always a heavy weight in my heart of possibilities." But his friend didn't seem to have heard him. Instead, the silver-haired man spoke on with unfocused eyes, reliving a nightmare.

"When we were told he wouldn't make it, it broke me. I just kept asking 'what if'? Then we told them to turn the life support off, and I just walked away. I wasn't there for him."

Jack had to stop. He had reached the barrier of pain, the breaking point. "Saying goodbye was the hardest thing," he said, his voice wavering. Teal'c knew this was a time to jump in.

"When Ry'yac was taken from me, I felt as if I would kill everyone in my path to find him. I thought I would die because he was not there. I did not protect him as I should have. It was my duty as a father." He paused remembering his own pain before continuing.

"But then I realised it was not my fault and I could not change what happened. So I concentrated on retrieving him and vowed never to let that event repeat itself." He hoped his message was getting through to O'Neill whose expression had turned from one of pain to consideration.

"So you're saying that I have to make sure that Carter isn't taken by the Goa'uld?" he asked with that Jack spark. Teal'c smiled a little.

"You lost your son and now you are afraid of losing a great friend. Do not let the past experience with your son determine how this shall end. Second chances only come once." Jack smiled and reached over and patted Teal'c on the shoulder. Teal'c had recognised this as Jack's way of saying thank you, and he bowed his head slightly.

They had always had a silent understanding between them and somehow that grew within the last ten minutes. Jack had almost forgotten that Teal'c was a father and knew what it was like to have a child, and that made Jack feel warmer that he had someone on the same level to talk to. Now he was more determined than ever to not have a repeat of that goodbye.

"So, Tee—old buddy. How about brushing up on some ping-pong techniques."

"I shall agree this once. Although you a terrible ping-pong player. Are you sure you do not wish to play X-Box instead?" Teal'c said with a straight face, causing Jack to pull a face.

"Yeah…might be a better idea…" then he stuck his tongue out at his friend, "And for the record, I'm not a terrible ping-pong player!"

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Ohhh…don't you LOVE it when there's angst and there's angst but then there's cheekiness? LOL.

Shouldn't be too long now! Stay tuned, please let me know what you think!

Kiki