Sticks and Stones - Chapter 11 - by Emma Nisbet (grnfield)
General Hammond left the control room and made his way straight down to Daniel's office. It hadn't been assigned to anyone else although members of Daniel's department were usually found to be in there due to the many books, scrolls and ledgers stored inside the small room.
When the General rounded the corner of the corridor to Daniel's office he was surprised to find Nyan pacing up and down in front of the door that he needed to enter. He could tell straight away that the young Bedrosian was upset and could hazard a guess as to what had occurred.
"Nyan, what are you doing out here?" he asked gently.
The nervous young man had not noticed the General approaching and jumped when the older man addressed him. "Oh…General Hammond, Sir. I'm…oh…I'll be on my way back upstairs now, Sir."
The General caught hold of the young man's arm as he turned to leave. "Wait, son. What's happened? Why are you pacing the corridor outside Doctor Jackson's office?"
"Please, Sir, I don't want to cause any trouble." Nyan squirmed in the General's firm grip on his arm. "Please let me just go. I'll not cause you any problems. Please, Sir."
"Hey now, calm down, son. You're not in any trouble and you're free to go whenever you want." The older man gently released Nyan's arm to prove this point. "Just please tell me, before you go, is Colonel O'Neill the reason you're standing out here?"
"Thank you, Sir." Nyan said, breathing heavily. "…and yes, Sir, he is."
"It's OK, Nyan. I thought as much. Would you care to tell me what happened?" The General asked softly.
"Well…Sir…I was in Doctor Jackson's office, researching a Celtic dialect for the translation I'm doing for SG-8. I'd just found the book I needed when Colonel O'Neill burst in and ordered me out. Well I just dropped the book on the table and left." The Bedrosian stopped and looked down at his feet. "He looked…well he looks like he hasn't slept in weeks, Sir. Um…I don't mean to speak out of turn but he really doesn't look at all well, Sir."
"I know, son, I know." The General told the distraught young man. "I saw him a while back but lost track of him before I got to speak to him. Thank you for the information, Nyan and I'm very sorry that Colonel O'Neill upset you. Why don't you go to the commissary for a while, to calm yourself down before you go back upstairs? Your translation may have to wait a little longer, I think that book will have to stay where it is for the time being."
"Yes, Sir." Nyan nodded. "I'll see if I can find another book elsewhere that will tell me what I need to know. Will…will the Colonel be alright, Sir?"
"I hope so, son. I really do. It has hit him hard every time Doctor Jackson has 'died' but there's some finality over it this time. Plus it happened right in front of the Colonel and there was nothing he could do about it." The General patted Nyan on the arm, "Off you go, son. I'll see to things here."
"Thank you, Sir…and good luck." Nyan bowed his head to the older man before heading off down the corridor in the direction of the lifts.
George rubbed his hand over his bald head as he watched the retreating back of the alien man. 'Oh Jack, what are you doing to yourself?' he thought sadly.
Turning to the door of Daniel's office he paused with his hand on the handle. Taking a deep, cleansing breath he turned the handle and went inside.
#
Upon entering the office General George Hammond was surprised to find the room in darkness. 'Not a good sign.' thought the Texan.
Figuring that Jack wouldn't appreciate him turning the harsh main light on, the General wedged the door open to allow the light from the corridor outside to illuminate the room. He located the desk lamp and switched it on letting the gentle light to fill the room. He then returned to the door and closed it firmly, locking both himself and the not-yet-located Colonel O'Neill inside the room.
Turning his attention back to locating his missing 2IC, George softly stepped towards the far end of the office. Moving round the couch he located his missing Colonel, sitting hunched up on the floor, leaning against a large, metal filing cabinet with his back against the concrete wall.
Jack's legs were tightly drawn up to his body and his face was buried in his knees. He had his arms clasped forcefully over his head and George could see fine tremors running throughout the other man.
Jack gave no indication that he was aware of the presence of his commanding officer, so George decided to give him a little more time. The older man moved back and sat on the arm of the couch to wait - for as long as it took for Jack to come back from wherever his mind had taken him.