A sharp caw from overhead made Sam stop and look up. Several dozen black birds were peppered throughout the branches of the forest canopy, their beady eyes seeming to follow her every move. One of them cawed again, and this time some of its flock mates echoed its cry. She watched as they bounced effortlessly from branch to branch, as if vying for the best view of the intruder.
One bird flew down and landed on a dead tree limb near where she stood. It cocked its head at her and ruffled its onyx feathers. Although she thought the bird was beautiful, Sam found its scrutinizing stare to be unnerving. She turned away and hurried quickly down the trail to catch up with Jack.
"Everything all right, Major?" He tried to look at her over his shoulder, but the bulky rucksack he was carrying prevented it.
"Yes sir. I was just looking at a bird," she replied. /Actually, it was more like the bird was looking at me…or through me…/
"There sure are enough of them around. We should be calling this place something like 'Plant Big Bird' instead of P4…" He made a vague gesture with his hand. "Whatever."
Sam smiled. She wanted to help him by providing the planet's correct designation code, but she found that it had oddly slipped her mind as well. " 'Planet Big Bird,' sir?"
"Sure. Why not? I mean it's a big planet and its got lots of birds on it, so…Planet Big Bird."
"I'll be sure to use it in my official report," she said with a chuckle.
The two fell into companionable silence as they made their way through the alien woods. They were trying to catch up with Janet, who had gone on ahead when they'd stopped to collect a rock sample. The petite doctor was enjoying her reprieve from tending the infirmary, and Jack had given her ample opportunity to explore.
As they walked, Sam took the chance to look around at their surroundings. Although most of the forest was choked with years of over growth, it was still pleasant to look at. Most impressive was the mountainside they'd been following, the solid gray rock accented with spidery veins of mica and gold. As she continued to look around, a strange sense of déjà vu began to form in the back of her mind. She considered asking the colonel if he was feeling the same way, but she was pretty sure she already knew what his response would be: 'You've seen one woodsy planet, you've seen them all.'
They found Janet a few minutes later at the back of a deep alcove recessed into the side of the mountain. She was kneeling down and looking at something hidden in the tall grass.
"Hey, doc! Whatcha find?"
"I think it's a Goa'uld, sir," Janet called back. "Or at least it was at one time."
The two teammates looked at one another. Jack shrugged. "A dead Goa'uld? Sweet." He started toward her through the long grass.
Sam followed, but only managed to take a few steps before the feeling of déjà vu slammed into her like a brick wall. /Oh my god…/ she thought, looking at her surroundings through wide eyes. She recognized it all: the trees, the bushes, the way the mountain curved to form two sides of the alcove – it was exactly the same as before. /This can't be real. There's no way this can really be P4J-592. What are we doing here? Why did we come back?/
She looked over at her friends, waiting for them to sense that something was wrong, but neither of them did. Both Jack and Janet were looking down at what she presumed to be the body of Menoetius like they'd never seen it before. Sam shook her head in disbelief. This just couldn't be happening.
/There must have been a gate malfunction or a time distortion or a…/ Try as she might, she just couldn't rationalize how or why they were back at the scene of the accident that had nearly taken Jack's life. /And it still may…/ she thought, although she had no clue where the idea came from.
Feeling confused and more than a little spooked, Sam made her way over to the others. Just like before, the badly weathered skeleton of Menoetius lay in tall grass, his bones swathed in dark red clothing.
"The material is so soft," Janet remarked, rubbing a corner of the fabric between her fingers. "And it looks like hand stitching too. I'm surprised it's held up as well as it has."
"So the guy's a snappy dresser. What makes you think he's a snake?" Jack asked.
The doctor flipped the loose fabric away from the skeleton's neck to reveal the remains of a Goa'uld symbiote.
Jack took a quick step back, not fond of the snake-like creatures even when they were reduced to brittle bones. "Damn."
"I found some more Jaffa too." Janet stood and wiped the dried mud from her hands. "And judging from the trauma to their bones, I'd have to say their death was extremely violent."
"The Goa'uld aren't exactly known for doing things subtly," Jack muttered with a sigh. "You'd better show me. Carter, check this guy out. See if you can find anything that might give us a clue as to who he is."
/I already know who he is…Menoetius. Daniel and Teal'c figured it out the last time we were here.../ Sam thought as she watched her friends walk back towards the front of the alcove. She didn't dare say that out loud, though. Not yet anyway. She wanted to try and figure out what was going on before she gave them the grounds to think she was losing her mind. /Even though I probably am…/
She knelt down beside the skeleton and began to explore half-heartedly through the grass. Part of her wanted nothing to do with searching the carcass of a Goa'uld, but another part was wondering if the ma'krell stone would even be there. If she remembered correctly, Daniel had accidentally thrown it quite far when she'd shouted at him for picking it up. /If that's the case, than the stone won't be in the same place I found the first time. It'll still be where ever it landed when Daniel threw it…/
Holding her breath, Sam parted the grass by Menoetius' hand. The round, red gem was there, just as it had been before. Either someone had moved it since their last visit, or… /…or there's something *really* crazy going on around here…/ Frankly she didn't like either option, but why would someone physically move the stone back by the skeleton? It just didn't make sense. /Not that any of this does…at least I know not to touch it this time…/
She started to cover the stone back over with grass, but her right hand seemed to have its own ideas. Despite her best efforts to resist, Sam watched as her hand reached down and grasped the stone, her fingers pressing it firmly against her palm. Its cool, polished surface began to heat up almost instantly. /No…/ she thought, unable to accept what was going on. /No…this isn't real. This can't be happening…/
"Find something, Carter?"
She jumped when Jack suddenly appeared beside her. Unsure of what she could say that would make him believe her, Sam just shook her head and clutched her right hand to her chest.
He cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
"No sir…I mean *yes* sir."
"Carter, are you okay? You've been acting a little strange."
"I'm fine, colonel. I just think you…we…we all should leave here. Now." The stone was getting hot and she could feel it starting to burn her skin. "Please, sir."
"What's gotten into you?" he asked, his tone hovering between being concerned and annoyed.
"Nothing. It's just…I…" As the heat from the stone became unbearable, Sam realized she couldn't contain the energy that was building up in its core any longer. She tried to turn away, intending to direct the worst of the blast away from Jack, but she was too slow. The powerful flare struck him square in the chest and hurled him violently against the solid face of the mountain.
"No!" Sam cried as the horrible sound of his body colliding with stone reached her ears. She hardly even noticed the bad burn on her hand, let alone the fact that she was still standing. "No! Not again!" She ran over to where he lay in a crumpled heap on the ground. His vest was still smoking and she could smell the distinct odor of burnt flesh and coppery blood in the air. "Colonel? Colonel!"
She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and looked to see Janet hurrying over to investigate. She appeared unharmed by the effects of the blast, something Sam was able to take some relief in. "Janet…I…the colonel…I didn't mean…"
Ignoring her friend's rambling, Janet knelt down beside Jack and pressed her fingers against his neck. There was no throbbing pulse beneath her touch. Jack was dead. "You killed him."
"What?"
"I said, you *killed* him," Janet replied, her voice cold.
Sam felt her heart plummet to the ground. "Oh no…no. Oh my god…I couldn't have…I didn't mean to! It was an accident! I didn't know…"
"An accident? You call this an accident?"
"I didn't know what it was! I swear!" Sam felt numb. This couldn't be happening. Jack couldn't be dead. "I didn't know it was a Goa'uld weapon. I thought it was a rock the first time. And then this time I…"
Janet's gaze narrowed. "What? You knew that thing was a Goa'uld weapon and you picked it up anyway?" she demanded, pointing to the red stone at her feet.
"The *first* time. I didn't know what it was the first time. I didn't want to touch it this time, but I couldn't help myself. Something made me do it. I swear to god, I never meant to hurt him!" Tears streamed down her face and her body shook as she tried to contain her sobs. "Please believe me, Janet. Something weird is going on. I don't know what…"
"Major Samantha Carter."
A familiar voice prompted Sam to turn away from the sight of her dead CO. As she did, the forest dissolved and she found herself standing in Hammond's office back at the SGC.
"General…" Sam was in shock, her mind reeling with feelings of fear, sadness, and bewilderment. "What's happening? How did I get…"
"Do you acknowledge that you negligent actions lead to the death of your commanding officer, Colonel Jack O'Neill?" he demanded.
"Negligent actions? Sir, I didn't know…"
"Don't waste my time trying to deny it, Major. I've already read Dr. Fraiser's report. It clearly states that you knowingly picked up a Goa'uld weapon and turned it on the colonel."
"But sir, I couldn't help myself. Something…some unknown force made me pick up the ma'krell stone again," she explained tearfully. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but that's what really happened! I tried to resist..."
Hammond glared at her from behind his desk. "How do you know the name of this weapon?"
"Teal'c told me what it was the first time we went to the planet. That was when I…"
"Major, yesterday was the first time anyone from this facility has ever set foot on P4J-592."
Sam shook her head in disbelief. /This isn't happening…this can't be happening…/ "We've been there before. I know we have. I remember it so clearly."
Hammond favored her with a look that was somewhere between pity and disgust. "Dr. Fraiser said you might experience some memory lag due to the emotional shock. She also said it might be part of the denial process."
"Denial process? Sir, it was an accident. Please believe me."
"I personally don't see how, but then again I'm not the one you need to convince."
"Sir?"
The general beckoned the guards that had been standing outside the door into his office. "Major Samantha Carter, because you negligently handled and discharged a known alien weapon, you are officially being charged with the death of Colonel Jack O'Neill."
"Charged?" Sam didn't mean to shout, but this was absurd. "No! General, please!"
Hammond nodded to the guards. "Take her to a holding cell, gentlemen. She'll be escorted to a more secure facility within the next few days."
The two MP's seized her arms and brought them roughly behind her back. Her burned hand flared painfully as they snapped a pair of cuffs around her wrists and began pulling her toward the exit. "General! Wait!"
But Hammond was gone, and his office was too. Sam found herself being half dragged down the dark corridor that led to the base's holding cells. There were people lined up against the walls, most of whom she recognized as fellow soldiers or other SGC personnel. No one spoke as she passed. Most just glared coldly or adverted their eyes altogether. Daniel and Teal'c were among the people standing in the hall. When she came to them, the guards stopped and Sam tried one final time to be heard.
"Daniel, Teal'c, please don't let them do this. You both said it was an accident when it happened the first time. This time, I don't exactly know what happened, but I didn't do this on purpose! Please talk to the general. Make him under…"
Teal'c looked straight at her, accusation in his eyes. "How could you have brought such harm to O'Neill?" he asked harshly.
"But Teal'c, I…"
"You knew what it was, Sam," Daniel said. "Why did you have to touch it?"
"I had no choice," Sam insisted. "Something made me…"
"That's a poor excuse, Sam. I thought you were better then that," Daniel uttered and turned his gaze away. "We all did."
The guards began to pull her forward once again. "No!" Sam shouted, fighting against her bonds. "No! There's been a mistake! Something weird is going on. I didn't kill the colonel on purpose! Please!"
As the guards tightened their grip against her struggles, she fought harder, kicking out and trying to get away. "No! Let me go! There's been a mistake! Please! Noooo...!"
"Sam? Sam! Wake up. Come on, Sam, open your eyes…" Daniel was perched on the edge of Sam's bed, trying desperately to get his panicked friend to wake up. Struggling to stay out of the way of her thrashing feet, he took her by the shoulders and gave her a firm shake. "Sam! Wake up!"
She sat up like a shot. "I didn't mean to do it! I swear! Please! Let me go!"
Her eyes were open and wide, but he could tell she wasn't seeing him. "Sam! It's all right! It's me! It's Daniel." He shook her again lightly, trying to get her to come around completely. "Come on, Sam. Wake up."
Recognition slowly appeared on her ghostly pale face. "Daniel?" she asked, her voice low and uncertain.
"Yeah, Sam. It's me," he replied, not liking the haunted look in her eyes. "You're all right. You were just dreaming."
"Dreaming?" She looked around the room as if to prove to herself that he wasn't lying. There were no bars, blank walls, or security cameras in sight. "This…this isn't a holding cell…"
Daniel's eyebrows rose. "A holding cell? No, you're in your on base quarters. Why would you be in a holding cell?"
"Because I…the colonel…is he…is he dead?"
"Is Jack dead? No, no he's alive. He's sick, but he's still very much alive." He watched as she slowly processed the information he'd just given her. "Is…is that what your dream was about? Jack dying?"
His question prompted a vivid image to flash into Sam's mind. For one fleeting moment, she was back on the planet looking down at Jack's lifeless body, the smoking gemstone still stuck to her hand. "Oh god, Daniel," she uttered quietly. "It was terrible. I killed him. It was an accident, but no one would believe me."
Daniel slid over to sit beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She felt unnaturally warm against him, and he wondered if she was still running a fever. "What happened?" He listened intently as his friend recounted her dream. She spared him no detail and it quickly became obvious why she was so upset. Sam didn't get upset that often, and when she did, it meant she was truly distraught.
"And that's when you woke me up," she concluded a few minutes later.
At first, Daniel didn't know what to say. The old stand by adage "it was only a dream" just didn't seem appropriate. He tightened his grip around her shoulders and held her close. "I would never say anything like that to you," he said at last. "And neither would Teal'c."
"I know," she sniffed. He offered her a tissue and she accepted it with a nod of thanks. "I'm sorry I'm being such a baby about this, Daniel. Janet says it's because I'm still sick, but I don't…"
"There's no need to apologize, Sam. If I had a dream like that, I'd be really upset too." She gave him a doubtful look. "I'm serious. I still have dreams about my parents dying that leave me feeling out of sorts for days."
"But you were just a child when that happened. It wasn't your fault."
"And what happened to Jack wasn't your fault either."
Sam sighed and toyed with the crumpled tissue in her hand. "I thought I'd finally accepted that, but I guess I haven't."
"I think you have," Daniel replied. "At least subconsciously."
She shook her head. She was still too upset to understand Daniel's train of thought. "What does that mean?"
"It means that when faced with an accusation, you were able to refute it. I don't think that's something you would have done a few weeks ago – even in a dream."
He's right… she thought. I would have just accepted the accusation for what it was and taken the punishment because I thought I deserved it… "But if I've accepted the accident, why did I have such a horrible dream?"
The archeologist shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's because you're over tired, upset, and worried about Jack. Or maybe it was your mind's way of telling you that you're finally starting to heal."
Sam snorted. "It was one hell of a way to do it."
He grinned and hugged her tight. "Well, you don't like to mess around with extraneous things, so why should your sub-consciousness?"
"I guess," she muttered, leaning against his shoulder. It was difficult to think of the nightmare as her mind's way of telling her of her gradual acceptance, but she wasn't about to dismiss it entirely. Not until she gave it some serious thought, anyway. "So when will I know?"
"Know what?"
"When I've fully accepted all this?"
"I suppose it's when the bad dreams and feelings of guilt go away – if they ever completely do. I've always felt that the big stuff, the events that change our lives, stay with us forever. We learn to deal with it and then lock it away in the back of our minds until some part of us decides that it's time for us to face it again. And when that happens, we use whatever coping skills we've learned since the last time to put it back to rest. Hopefully for good."
Sam looked up at him with surprise in her eyes. She knew the man was articulate, but like Jack, he still had the ability to surprise her on occasion. "That's…"
"A load of garbage, I know," he interrupted.
"No, not at all," she insisted. "It was…well…kind of nice."
"Really?"
She nodded. "The colonel said something like that too."
"Then believe him, Sam. If anyone knows about acceptance and dealing with guilt, it's Jack. I mean we've all suffered loss in our lives, but Jack…he's had more than his fair share," Daniel said, thinking how much Jack had changed since the first day he'd met him. "The fact that he enjoys life so much despite the pain and guilt in his past just shows how resilient we can be."
He could tell Sam was thinking just by the look on her face. She had calmed down significantly since he'd woken her from her dream – her shaking had stopped and most of the color had returned to her face. She also seemed to be processing things more rationally too.
Shaking her head, Sam rubbed the gritty feeling from her eyes with the heel of her hand. "Only you."
"Only me, what?" Daniel asked, detecting the ghost of a smile on her lips.
"Only you could take something as terrible as a nightmare, put a positive twist on it, and say it's our subconscious mind's way of sending us messages."
He shrugged. "Dreaming is just another form of communication. But instead of a conversation between two people, it's between one's own subconscious and conscious. It's all open to interpretation, of course. I had a friend in college that…oomph!" Daniel's tangent was cut off as Sam enveloped him in a hug.
"Thank you," she said, squeezing him with all her might.
"Anytime," he replied, returning the embrace. Her skin felt cooler now, and his fears of a fever diminished. When she at last loosened her grip, Daniel held her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Are you going to be okay?"
Sam sighed and nodded her head. "I think so. I mean I'm still a little freaked out from the dream, but I can deal with that." She looked at the wall clock – it was just past eleven. "I suppose it's too early for breakfast."
"Probably," he said, standing up from the bed. "Do you want me to stay for a while? I can sack out in a chair or…"
"No, I'm all right. Just a little anxious about a repeat performance, that's all."
Daniel knelt down to gather several scattered folders and books from the floor. "Well, you have good reason to be. When I first tried to wake you up, I nearly got kicked."
Sam ducked her head. "Sorry about that. I think I was fighting with some guards. By the way, how did you know I was dreaming?"
"I was heading to bed myself when I heard you shouting through the door. You seemed to be pretty upset, so I thought it was best to wake you up."
"I appreciate it."
"You bet." Daniel opened the door. "If you need anything, just give a shout."
"Thanks."
"Good night, Sam."
"Night, Daniel."
The door closed and latched. Sam was alone. She was reluctant to go back to sleep, afraid of being cast back into the world where Jack had died by her own hand and no one believed her claims of an accident. She considered staying up for awhile and reading, but her exhausted body had its own ideas. Yawning loudly, she knew that even her fears of a repeat nightmare wouldn't be enough to keep her awake for long. She switched off the light and crawled back under the covers. She still felt 'out of sorts' as Daniel had called it, but it wasn't as bad as when she'd first woken up. After experiencing such a fright, she suspected it would last for some time.
Sam stared up into the darkness. Her thoughts drifted to Jack, and her longing to be at his side. She knew Daniel and Teal'c wanted to be with him as well, their bond as teammates and friends drawing them close. They knew Jack was in good hands; with Janet watching over him herself, there wasn't a better place he could be. It was the instinctual need to support their friend that both fueled their desire and caused frustration when they had to stay away.
It's also the best way to know he's still with us…
She growled at herself in annoyance and rolled over to face the wall. Thinking like that wasn't going to help her situation any. Sam closed her eyes and tried to focus her thoughts on something positive. Oddly enough, the image that formed in her mind was of Jack's yellow yo-yo with the goofy face. She smiled. It's just so like him to carry something like that around with him…
A couple of minutes later, she felt herself beginning to drift. In her last few moments of consciousness, Sam said a silent prayer, wishing for Jack to recover and for her own dreams to be kind.
Janet was in the middle of reviewing a stack of post mission exam reports when she first noticed the change in Jack's breathing. The quiet, steady wheeze she'd been listening to for most of the evening had grown shallow and raspy. He coughed occasionally, but it was unproductive, and only served to painfully jar his broken ribs. To help ease some of his symptoms, Janet had raised the head of his bed and increased the flow of oxygen feeding into his mask. The change it made was minimal, but he'd reached the point where any improvement was a small miracle.
She'd gone back to her files for a short time before a choked gasp had her returning to his side. "Colonel?
Jack groaned and moved restlessly under her touch. There was pressure building in his chest. Even in his semiconscious state he knew exactly what was coming. He tried to fight the tingling sensation at the back of his throat, but it was no use. He began to cough, and was soon unable to stop. His broken ribs flared with pain, and it became impossible to take an adequate breath.
"Easy, sir." As much as she wanted to help, Janet knew there was little she could do for him beyond supporting his ribs and holding his hand. She could tell he was weakening fast; too many more episodes like this and she feared they'd lose him completely. She glanced over her shoulder at the resuscitation equipment lined up against the wall. Its presence was reassuring, but she hoped she wouldn't have to use it.
The colonel's coughing abruptly deepened, and she could hear the fluid in his lungs starting to break up. She knew the deeper coughs were more painful for him, but the croupy bark was like music to her ears. It was a definite sign that the antibiotics were working – they finally had the pneumonia on the run.
Jack's cough deepened further and he began to bring up the fluid that was clogging his lungs. Janet retrieved the portable suction unit and used it to keep his throat and mouth clear. She spoke quietly, trying to soothe and encourage him at the same time. When the coughing spell ended several minutes later, Jack lay completely still. His breathing was short and ragged, but it lacked much of the crackling wheeze that it'd had before. Janet repositioned his oxygen mask and used a damp cloth to clean the sweat from his face.
"I know that was painful, sir, but you did good." Jack surprised her by opening his eyes. "Hey, colonel. How are you doing?"
"Can't…"
Janet could barely make out the single word he uttered through the mask. "You can't what?"
Jack closed his eyes for a moment, needing to gather his fading strength enough to speak. "Can't do this anymore," he said at last. "Too tired…"
Janet felt a pang of panic race through her mind. Those sounded an awful lot like quitting words to her. "I know you're tired, sir, but you're so close to beating this. You've got to stick with it. Just a little longer, I promise."
He shook his head. "I can't."
"Yes, you can," the doctor replied fiercely. She took him by the chin. His eyes didn't open, but she didn't care. She knew he could still hear her. "Listen to me, Jack. You are one of the most obstinate, headstrong, and determined individuals I have ever met in my entire life. Once you get an idea in your head, it takes a brick wall twice as thick as it is tall to stop you from acting on it, and sometimes that isn't even enough. Because of this, you've brought home people that others thought were lost forever and defeated enemies others believed were unbeatable.
"You're not a quitter, Jack. You never have been and I dare say you never will be. When things get tough, you just get tougher. I know I've complained about your tenacious side in the past, but for as much of a pain in the ass as you can be, it's still one of your most endearing qualities. You can't give up now. Not when you're this close to beating it. Your fever has stabilized and your cough is breaking up. The antibiotics are working. You just have to hang in there a little longer and you'll have done it. Please, Jack. You have to fight."
The lines on Jack's forehead seemed to deepen. Janet could tell he was thinking; the process slowed down by his sickness. "You called me…a pain…in the ass…" he said at last.
Janet chuckled. For as sick as he was, Jack still couldn't help being Jack. "Yes, sir, I did," she admitted with a smile. "And, although I may regret saying this, I'd like the opportunity to do it again someday."
He regarded her through glassy eyes. "I'll try."
"That's all I can ask for."
He seemed to want to say something more, but his efforts were thwarted when he started to cough. Janet helped him through it, supporting his ribs and using the suction tube to keep his airway clear. When the bout finally subsided, she could tell Jack's energy was all but spent. His sides heaved with effort as he worked to breathe and his vital signs had dropped precariously low.
This isn't good… the doctor thought dismally. "I'm sorry, sir."
At the sound of her voice, Jack's eyes slowly opened like windows on a hurting soul. For a fleeting moment, Janet could literally see the man's pain and felt guilty for asking him to keep up the fight. "Colonel, I…"
He tried to speak, but simply didn't have the strength.
"Shh, don't talk." Janet reached above the bed and made a few adjustments to his PCA pump. When she was finished, she pressed the button and the machine administered the new, higher dose of morphine to her patient. If this was really to be the end, there was no sense in him being in pain. Pushing back Jack's damp bangs and resting her hand against his forehead, she felt him relax as the drug started to work. "Just rest now, colonel. Everything's going to be fine."
Sighing deeply, Janet retrieved the chair from the desk where she'd been doing paperwork and dragged it over beside the bed. She considered having the others paged to come down, but Jack's vitals had rebounded enough for her to hold off. It wasn't much of an improvement, but… "We'll take it," she uttered aloud. She reached through the guardrail and took the colonel's hand.
"I wasn't going to tell you this until you were feeling better," she began, unsure if he could even hear her. "But I've decided to do it anyway. I met with Mrs. Struble yesterday after class to talk about the results of Cassie's placement test. She knew Cassie hadn't preformed well, but was appalled to hear that the guidance department even considered holding her back. She said that Cassie is very smart for her age and excels in reading, writing, and history, believe it or not. It's true that she doesn't demonstrate the proficiency in math that the mainstream curriculum dictates, but it's not due to a lack of intelligence. Cassie is able to do the work one-on-one or in a small group of peers, but she freezes during tests or whenever she's called to the blackboard.
"Mrs. Struble said Cassie needs a healthy dose of confidence, and that keeping her back or placing her in summer school is no way to do it. She liked the idea of private tutoring the best, however the individuals she usually recommended were already booked for the summer. She offered to do it herself, but the sessions would be sporadic as she has other obligations to fulfill. Since Cassie needs confidence more than intense instruction, she suggested finding a high school student or an adult friend that would be willing to help. That's when I got an idea.
"I mentioned that you would be having some free time on your hands, and Mrs. Struble's face immediately lit up. She said you have a special knack with kids and would be perfect for the job because you're patient and have a playful nature. She also said that Cassie admires and trusts you to no end, which is something I already knew.
"I haven't said anything to Cassie yet because I wanted to ask you first. You don't have to answer me now – I want you to think about it. Mrs. Struble said she could loan you some textbooks that highlight the areas Cassie needs the most work in. I know it's a huge favor to ask, but I really think she'd enjoy working with you, sir. She loves being with you and you could teach her so much. So just think about it, okay? It would mean the world to her if you did this. And to me too."
With her piece said, Janet waited for some sort of indication that Jack had heard her. None came. She knew she probably should have waited to say anything at all, but she feared she might not get the opportunity if he continued to fail. She secretly hoped her proposal had given Jack another reason to keep fighting. It was a long shot though.
The doctor looked at her watch. It was nearly one o'clock in the morning. She'd been up for nearly 24 hours, but the thought of going to bed never crossed her mind. Jack had told her to listen to her guts when dealing with Cassie's school dilemma, and now she was doing it to help determine what was best for him.
Janet sandwiched Jack's hand between both of her own. "I'm here with you, sir," she said, smiling a little when she felt his fingers close weakly around one of her thumbs. Prepared to stay for the duration, she settled back in her chair and began to administer the one type of medicine that couldn't be synthesized in a lab: healing from the heart.
The first cognizant thought Jack had as he slowly rose from the murky depths of unconsciousness was that his chest hurt like a son of a bitch. The second was that he felt exhausted. Not a hard day's work tired, but a days without sleep, wrung out, bone weary pooped. The strange thing was, he couldn't recall what he'd done to make himself feel so miserable.
The last thing he clearly remembered was trying to tell Daniel and Teal'c how to run the PlayStation they'd hooked up to his TV. While Jack had had his doubts at first, it had turned out to be an entertaining experience, especially when they selected Tomb Raider from the collection of games. After watching them attempt to play for an hour, he'd fallen asleep listening to Daniel's comments about the game's historical inaccuracies, and Teal'c's suggestions on how the busty Lara Croft could improve upon her fighting techniques.
His memory became fuzzy after that. He could vaguely remember seeing blurry faces and hearing distorted voices, but there were no specifics. He had no idea what happened, how much time he'd lost, or if he was the only one effected. Given the pain and weakness he felt, he knew whatever happened hadn't been good. He just hoped his friends were all right and weren't feeling as lousy as he was.
He slowly opened his eyes and allowed them to adjust to the dim lighting. He recognized his infirmary room by the distinct K-shaped crack in the ceiling. Gotta remember to have Siler fix that… he thought absently, the notion leaving him just as quickly as it had come.
Jack wrinkled his nose. The constant tickle from the air flowing through the oxygen mask he wore was starting to annoy him. Deciding it had to go, he attempted to remove the offending object with his left hand. His body, however, seemed to have other ideas and his arm refused to move. Undeterred, he tried again, this time managing to get the upper half of his arm to twitch. It was when he failed to get control over his entire arm on the third try that he realized he could barely feel anything below his elbow.
What happened? He thought, a surge of panic racing through his mind. Was there another accident? A complication? Doc said there was a risk of blood clots. She put me on something to help prevent them from forming, but maybe it didn't work…
Jack heard a soft snuffling sound off to his left. It didn't sound like machinery, but he couldn't think of anything else that would make such a noise. Using what he believed to be an inordinate amount of energy, he turned his head to see where the sound had originated. What he found made him smile.
It was Janet. Seated in an uncomfortably straight-backed chair, the doctor was sound asleep and snoring quietly. Her right hand tightly gripped his left, and it was the awkward way she had his arm pulled through the guardrail that had caused him to lose feeling in it. Jack felt the panic drain from his body. It wasn't a blood clot; it was just Janet doing what made her such a good doctor and an even better friend: caring.
He watched her for a little longer, reluctant to wake her up. She looked about as tired as he felt, and he wondered why she'd chosen to remain at his side rather than get proper rest. He thought about calling a nurse, but the help button was out of reach. He considered waiting until one came by, but that could be a long wait, especially when they knew the base's CMO was looking after him personally. Out of options, he had no choice but to wake up the petite physician. Now he just had to figure out how.
"Doc…" Jack croaked, his voice barely making it past a whisper. He swallowed and cringed, finding his throat to be scratchy and dry. He did his best to clear it and tried rousing her once again. "Doc."
Janet's quiet snoring abruptly ended with a snort. She lifted her head and looked around, disoriented until her gaze fell on Jack. "Co-colonel?" she asked, not trusting her own eyes.
"Yep."
"You're awake," she uttered, her expression going from disbelief to amazement to elation. "My god, I can't believe it – you're awake." She stood and rested her hand against his forehead, missing the flash of relief that crossed his face when she released her grip on his numb hand. He still felt a little warm, but it was obvious his fever had broken during the night. His vitals had improved and she could no longer hear the loud rattling coming from his lungs. "How do you feel?"
"Wasted," he replied, slowly flexing the fingers of his left hand to get the circulation going again. He began to ask what had happened, but trigged a coughing fit instead. The harsh, barking coughs were deep and painful, sending what felt like shards of broken glass through his lungs. The pins and needles in his hand forgotten, he wrapped his arm across his chest and clutched his broken ribs.
As his cough became more productive, Jack felt his oxygen mask being lifted and something straw-like sliding into his mouth. He resisted it at first, calming only after he realized it was sucking away the foul tasting junk that was coming up from his lungs. By the time the spell finally ended several minutes later, Jack's strength was spent, and he was alternating gasps for air with grunts of pain.
"Take it easy, sir. You're all right," Janet said as she removed the suction tube from his mouth and replaced his mask. She monitored him closely as he recovered, watching for signs of distress. Jack had already beaten the odds twice; she wasn't about to risk third. "You okay?" she asked when he seemed to be breathing a little easier.
"Peachy…" Jack mumbled through clenched teeth. His pain was diminishing, but it was an unbearably slow process. When he was finally able to open his eyes, he found Janet watching him with obvious concern. "What happened?" he wheezed, although he was pretty sure he already knew.
"You developed a chest infection that quickly turned into pneumonia," she explained. "You've been very sick for the last 48 hours with a high fever and a severe cough. It was so bad at one point that it re-broke several of your ribs and caused some of the lesions in your lungs to reopen. The bleeding has stopped, but I imagine you're still quite sore."
Oh yeah… he thought. That's an understatement…
The doctor sighed and shook her head. Part of her was still having a difficult time believing that he'd come through, especially after she thought he'd given up only a few hours earlier. "It was close, colonel – really, really close," she told him. "The antibiotics were slow to work and due to your…delicate condition, there was a question of whether or not you'd survive. You gave us all quite a scare. We came very close to losing you a second time."
"Sorry, doc."
Janet grinned. It was the same thing he'd said to her when she'd first found out he was sick. "Don't apologize, okay? This wasn't your fault, or anyone else's for that matter. Complications come up, and as much as we try, we can't always prevent them. I'm just glad you're so darned stubborn, or else we might not even be having this conversation."
He gave her a small smile. She could tell he was starting to tire; his eyelids were heavy and he was having trouble keeping his focus on her. It wasn't surprising considering all he'd been through. Pneumonia by itself could be grueling; she could only guess how the stress of his other injuries was going to play into his recovery.
"I'm going to have a couple of nurses come down and get you cleaned up a bit, sir," she said. "I know you're feeling pretty lousy, but some clean sheets and a little soap and water might be just what you need."
Although Jack wasn't in the mood for being fussed over, he didn't argue. His bedding was damp from when his fever broke, and his skin felt funky. As much as he disliked relying on others for such personal things, getting cleaned up didn't sound all that bad. Arguing with Janet rarely resulted in a victory anyway.
Just as Janet was returning from placing the call, there was a quiet knock at the door. She opened it to find Daniel and Teal'c standing outside.
"Morning, Janet," Daniel greeted. He looked tired and unshaven, leaving the doctor to wonder if he had gotten any sleep at all. "Teal'c and I were wondering if it was all right to come see Jack?"
"I don't know. Let me ask." She turned back to her patient. "What do you say, colonel? Are you up for a little company?" He replied with a nod, and she stepped aside to allow his teammates a clear view of the bed.
Daniel's eyes went wide when he saw his friend was awake. "Jack!" he exclaimed, hurrying across the room with Teal'c hot on his heels.
"He woke me up about fifteen minutes ago," Janet explained as they gathered around the bed.
"Hey, Jack."
"O'Neill, it is good to see you awake. Your illness has caused us much concern."
Daniel nodded. "Yeah, Jack. You've got to cut this out. People are going to start to think you're doing this just for the extra attention."
"Wouldn't want to take that title away from you, Daniel," Jack replied, earning a look of surprise from the other man and one of amusement from both Teal'c and Janet.
"I don't…I mean I'm not…do you really think I'd…" Daniel continued to sputter until Jack cocked an eyebrow. A deep red flush crept into the archeologist's cheeks – he knew he'd been had. What he'd meant as light teasing had been effortlessly twisted around and played back on him. He should have known better than to try and trump Jack O'Neill. Even sick, his mind was still as sharp as a tack. A rusty tack anyway… "Well I was going to ask how you were feeling, but it's obvious you're fine."
The room's good humor abruptly changed to concerned when Jack started to cough. The bout wasn't as bad as his previous one, but it still left him sore and feeling drained. He mumbled an apology to his friends and allowed his eyes to drop shut.
"He is still very weak," Teal'c observed.
"He will be for some time," Janet replied. "You have to remember his body is under a lot of stress right now between fighting the pneumonia and healing his injuries. It'll probably be a week or more before he'll have much energy to spare."
"But he's definitely going to get better, right?"
Daniel's question made her sigh. She had to be careful how she answered it considering her patient was dozing beside her. "He's not out of the woods yet, but he's on the right path. The antibiotics are working and the pneumonia is breaking up. Hopefully within a few days, his coughing will lessen and his lung capacity will improve. It'll be slow going at first, but he should be back to where he was before he got sick within a week or two. Barring any further complications, of course."
Daniel frowned more out of thought than disappointment. It wasn't the definitive answer he'd been hoping for, but considering how close they'd come to losing Jack, it was something to feel encouraged about.
"Right now the best thing for him is rest. It'll give his body the chance it needs to heal."
Both men reluctantly took the hint, however their expressions made it clear they would have preferred to stay.
"Rest well, my friend," Teal'c said, resting a hand on Jack's good shoulder. "And recover quickly."
Daniel nodded. "Yeah, Jack. We need you out there. Inappropriate comments and all."
"May we return later, Doctor Fraiser?" Teal'c asked as they made their way to the door.
"Sure. Just clear it with a nurse first."
"We'll bring Sam along too," Daniel said. "I'm sure she'll be relieved to know he's doing better."
"Speaking of Sam – have you seen her yet this morning? I want to check in with her before I head home."
"Major Carter remains asleep in her quarters. We thought it best not to disturb her."
"She had a rough night," Daniel explained.
They all looked over at Jack. "I think we all did," Janet replied with a sigh. "All right. Thanks for stopping by. It was a good boost to the colonel's spirits."
Daniel opened the door and stepped out into the hall. "Thanks for letting us in. We knew Jack was in bad shape last night. I kept waiting for my phone to ring and to hear that he was…well, anyway. He didn't and that's good."
"Indeed."
"Take it easy, you two," she said, shutting the door as they left. Drawing in a deep breath, Janet tried to stretch some of the stiffness out of her back. The hard plastic chairs that were common throughout the base were not meant for sleeping in, and her sore body was reminding her why. Once the nurses arrived to take charge of Jack, her plan was to hit the showers and then catch a couple of hours of real sleep before heading home.
Finding the colonel still asleep, she wandered over to the small desk and began to gather up her paperwork.
"Doc?" Jack's tired voice summoned a few minutes later.
"Hey, colonel. Everything okay?" she asked, returning to his side. He nodded, but she could see him thinking. "What's on your mind, sir?"
"Maybe I was dreaming…" he began, his speech broken by his shallow, frequent breaths. "Did you ask me if I'd tutor Cassie?"
Janet's eyebrows rose. "You actually heard that?"
"I…I thought I did." He considered it for a moment. "What? You mean you did?"
"Yes. Last night." She debated over how much to tell him, deciding to exclude the part where he'd wanted to give up. Such a detail could wait, if she ever chose to tell him at all. "I had originally planned to ask you when you feeling better, but then your condition started to slip and I was afraid I wasn't going to get the chance. I thought maybe if I asked you – and this is going to sound crazy – it would give you a little extra something to fight for."
Finished, Janet waited for Jack to roll his eyes or start laughing. She certainly didn't expect to hear the two words that he uttered instead.
"It worked."
She looked at him skeptically for a moment, trying to figure if he was being serious. He was. "I doubt my wishful thinking had anything to do with it, sir," she said modestly. "It was your will to survive that got you through."
"When faced life or death, doc, it's the little stuff that makes you stick around."
It was difficult to hear him speak of death so casually, but it was a topic with which he was intimately familiar. With the tragic death of his son, numerous military losses, and his own handful of close calls, she often wondered how he was able to go on as well as he did. She found that his 'it's the little stuff' response summed it up pretty well.
"I'm glad I could help convince you come back to us, sir. I can only imagine how hard it was for you." She watched as Jack's gaze became distant and unfocused, as if he was concentrating really hard on something. He remained this way for long that she began to wonder if he'd fallen asleep with his eyes open. "Colonel?"
He blinked suddenly and his dark eyes refocused. "Do you really think I could help Cassie?"
"I know you could help Cassie," Janet replied without a trace of doubt in her voice. "But I don't want you to decide right now. Think about it first. Make sure it's something you really want to take on, okay?"
Jack nodded and closed his eyes. He was really pushing the limit with what little remained of his strength, and it was becoming difficult to keep them open. He felt Janet gently squeeze his arm and he relaxed.
"Get some rest, sir. The nurses will be here soon to get you cleaned up. If you need something to help with pain, just let them know. I'll stop in to check on you before I leave." She turned and started back toward the desk to finish collecting her things. She'd barely gotten half way across the room when Jack spoke up. His words were slightly slurred as he was already half asleep, but she could still hear the grin in his voice.
"When can I start?"