Disclaimer: All recognisable characters are the property of MGM/Amazon. No copyright infringement intended. I am simply taking my favourite two Gaters for a walk in an Alternate Universe.
Rating: Still T...
Episode Tags: Takes place in Season 7 after 7.16 Death Knell.
TRIGGERS: Unlawful killing, assisted suicide, depression.
A/N: If you or anyone you know suffers from the Black Dog, encourage them to seek help. Ask them R U OK? Contains some bad language. I have no beta, so all mistakes are my own.
I am loving your reviews. I have ideas for other stories branching off from this AU, perhaps a look into the other side before the death of Sam in this world. A little more about Grace, or jealous Kawalsky and his dealings with Makepeace and the NID? Maybe even a behind the scenes around the Prometheus mission and how Jack makes the decision to blow the regs out of the water?
Chapter 12: Psychology
The door slammed closed with finality as Colonel O'Neill left my office. I sighed. We had made a serious miscalculation where he was concerned. Well, I had – but General Hammond had accepted my decision to clear him for active duty. While I couldn't muster enough sympathy for the dead Jaffa – they were after all casualties of war – the fact that they were unarmed opened the leader of SG-1 up to a court martial under the War Crimes Act. Though since the Jaffa and their Goa'uld master were not members of the Geneva Convention and would have no qualms with mass killing and the enslavement of Earth's population - a fact that the Colonel had made abundantly clear in today's session - I highly doubted any charges would stick. Still, the killing of unarmed combatants regardless of their sentiment toward Earth made us no better than them.
Picking up the phone to dial the General, I figured we may as well get this out of the way. There was no sense in delaying it any longer than absolutely necessary.
"Hammond."
"Sir. MacKenzie"
"Doctor, how did it go?"
"It's probably best we discuss that in person, Sir." I replied.
"Understood Doctor." He replied before the phone went dead. His tone that suggested he'd be knocking on my door momentarily. I replaced the receiver.
Having any part of this discussion recorded wasn't a good idea since I suspected Hammond may brush the situation under the proverbial rug – not that I thought he should be doing that – despite the order that forced O'Neill into the infirmary isolation ward for the weekend. My decision to clear him before last week's mission was based solely on my assessment of Colonel O'Neill's general mood and outlook. He was bright eyed, talkative, well-rested, and answered all my questions – hell the man even smiled a few times. I would describe his overall temperament as cheerful despite the loss of Major Carter, a woman who he was rumoured to be sleeping with. He was a far cry from the man that just walked out of my office. The knock on the door came much sooner than I expected, though the General did not wait to enter my office as any other serviceman would have.
Despite it being my office, I stood tall. "Sir, thank you for seeing me."
"Doctor, as you were." Hammond replied as he sat opposite me. I retook my own seat. "Give it to me straight James." He asked.
"You need to pull him Sir, or better still retire him." I replied, not mincing my words. I had no wish to be misconstrued with the situation being as dire as it had become.
"I can't do that son, the JCS won't allow it." He replied in a tired Texan drawl.
"Won't allow it? As in they have a stop loss on his file?"
"The best I can do is have him put on extended medical leave if one or both of his doctors report that he is unfit for active duty." The General said without confirming my assumption. Probably because he was not authorised to discuss JCS amendments to personnel files – even with medical personnel – unless those amendments effected a soldier's performance on medical grounds. "I am meeting with Janet next to see if any of his 'external activities' are having an affect on his physical health yet." He said diplomatically. I knew he was referring the suspected lack of sleep, reduced appetite and alcohol consumption - none of which I had any inkling of last week.
"He is exhibiting extreme PTSD relating to the death of Major Carter which I will note in my official report." I said, noticing the hairy eyeball he cast in my direction. Well, in for penny and all that. "Sir, last week Colonel O'Neill presented to me in such a way that I questioned why he was here. He said he didn't need to be and that everything was fine. How was I supposed to known it was all subterfuge?"
"Doctor MacKenzie. You are a professional psychologist and an Air Force officer working with people active in volatile situations, most of whom are black ops trained. It is your job to see through the subterfuge as you put it." The General responded.
It was known that most of the more seasoned officers viewed psychology as pointless and refused therapy, only attending under orders – or threat of remaining grounded – which made my job harder than it needed to be. SG-1 had been particularly difficult when we believed Doctor Jackson had been killed for the first time. Only after Hammond issued an order to Colonel O'Neill to direct his team to attend therapy, did they actually attend. It was the hypnosis session that I had first suspected something going on between the CO and his 2IC. That hug had been far too intimate for just friends and colleagues, not to mention her use of his first name.
"He started down the same path, except without the same exuberance – almost like his mind was somewhere else – so I focused on different things." I responded. Of course, I had still asked him all the classic 'are you sleeping', 'are you feeling depressed', 'are you feeling bad about yourself', 'are you eating' questions that are common for all medical professionals in my line of work, but when he answered with closed ended Yeses and No's, either refusing to elaborate further or injecting a snarky comment rather than something useful, I had focused my questions on the loss of Major Carter instead of his general wellbeing.
"What things, Doctor?"
"Perhaps you should listen for yourself, Sir." I responded casually, knowing what I was about to do was a breach of medical conduct, but the situation called for it. He merely nodded. I pressed play on the tape I had prepped.
"How did the loss of Major Carter make you feel?"
"How do you think it made me feel?"
"I don't know Colonel, that is why I am asking." There was an long silence before he spoke again.
"We lose people all the time. It's part of the job."
I hit pause. "For a moment there Sir, I thought he was going to confess his rumoured feelings for Major Carter, but in the end, he deflected with an impersonal response."
"I don't think you'll ever get him to confess on record how he feels for any of his team." The General replied. I studied him trying to decide if he knew anything. The rumours had been around for years, but more so in the last few weeks.
"Sir. Were Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter more than colleagues?"
"They were friends, Doctor." The General replied in a dry tone that neither confirmed nor denied anything. I reached for the pause button, keeping my eyes on the General to try and read his reactions to the next line of questioning.
"She left you a letter, did she not?"
"Yes."
"How did reading that make you feel?"
"I haven't read it."
"Why not?"
"What's the point when I know what it will say."
"And what is that?"
"Impersonal honour to serve, sorry I failed, give my letters out kinda crap."
"But you want her to say more, don't you?"
"Like what?"
"Rumour has it Colonel, that you and Major Carter were more than colleagues."
"We were friends."
"Just friends? It is said that you cared for her deeply."
"She was a very important member of my team."
"OK, but beyond being a member of your team?"
"What does it matter now?"
Hammond reached forward and hit stop on the recording, his face a careful veiled mask, though I could still sense the anger underlying. He leaned forward bracing his arms on my desk.
"Doctor, Colonel O'Neill fatally shot five unarmed Jaffa – one of them in the back – then turned the weapon on his two colleagues and friends. Teal'c believes O'Neill wanted him to pull the trigger. We are talking assisted suicide. Now, I ordered you to assess Colonel O'Neill based on the debriefing notes and mission reports from SG-1, not to fulfil your own curiosity regarding his team dynamics. All I hear are questions seeking to confirm a 'rumour' that he and Major Carter were breaking regulations?"
"I believe it is important for his psychologist to have all of the facts, Sir."
"Son, what part of 'he fatally shot five unarmed Jaffa' and 'he wanted Teal'c to kill him' are you missing? That is what he is here for. Not a game of Perfect Match [1]."
"But what was the catalyst, Sir? What made him suddenly decide to take their lives?"
"I imagine it was after one of them zatted Captain Halley, which you would know if you had reviewed the notes and reports." The General replied pointing his finger at me. "My point is Doctor, he is here to be assessed for active duty, and for you to help him through this difficult time, not to be interrogated about assumptions from rumour and innuendo."
"We did talk about the Jaffa." I replied and pressed play on the tape recorder again.
"Tell me why you shot those Jaffa."
"They were shooting at us."
"At first yes, but then they were subdued, and you took their lives."
"If it was the other way around, they would have done the same thing. You can call it self-defense if that makes you feel better; I call it warfare."
"They were unarmed."
"You've seen Teal'c spar in the gym. There is no such thing as an unarmed Jaffa."
I pressed stop and fast forwarded a few seconds. "We talk about this for a while. He always came back to killing them was self-defense, that they are never unarmed, never subdued. Despite them being on their knees and tied up. Nothing about Major Carter or Captain Halley came up."
"I see. Doctor, if you don't have anything other than his rumoured feelings for his dead 2IC and the justification for the death of the Jaffa that they are never unarmed, I cannot medically request that he be stood down or retired. Did you ask him about the threats to himself and his team?" I nodded and reached for the button one last time.
"What about Teal'c and Doctor Jackson?"
"What about them?"
"You threatened to shoot them as well?"
"Yeah, so what?"
"Why did you do that?"
"The situation called for it."
"How do you think they felt being targeted by a friendly?"
"How would I know? You should ask them."
"Were you seeking to end your pain from the loss of Sam by threatening them?"
I looked up at the General to gauge his reaction to my specifically worded sentence. I had used her name to encourage O'Neill to be honest. It had worked.
"There's only one thing that will end my pain Doctor, and Daniel got in the way of the only person who would do it."
The General stared back at me then stood, "I expect your report with a recommendation to have him removed from active duty due to extreme PTSD. I trust you will keep to the facts and avoid any hearsay or rumour Doctor?" I knew an order when I heard it. Keep my opinions about Colonel O'Neill's feelings for Major Carter out of my report. I nodded and watched as he turned and left my office.
I cursed MacKenzie as I left his office. The man was insufferable. Despite orders, he still had focused on things that Jack would never admit. It was like he was out to catch them. Every time either Jack or Sam had to attend therapy, he had pulled out questions about those forbidden feelings, even now after Sam was gone and Jack was living in his own personal hell.
Seeing such as strong soldier like Jack as a broken-down shadow of himself had filled me with sorrow. Had I known the impact losing Sam would have on him, I would have…? Would have what George? I asked myself. Looked the other way? I already had done that. I knew he loved her before he knew. I saw it manifest from admiration to a school-boy crush and finally love over the course of barely a year. By the time Jolinar had graced Sam with her presence, Jack had been head over heels in love with his young Captain. So many times, I wanted to tell him to keep things discrete. So many times, I wanted one of them to ask for a transfer to another team. I'd have made it happen.
I had seen a lot of service men and woman suffer with PTSD, some of them eventually taking their own lives or attempting to rather than dealing with the horror of their memories. Unfortunately to the Powers That Be, soldiers like Jack was merely a statistic in an ever-growing problem that plagued militaries all over the world. A problem that – despite having multitudes of money thrown at it for support services – was simply not seeing a decline in the number of sufferers.
I knew Jack wasn't ready, but when both Fraiser and MacKenzie cleared him for active duty separately from each other, my hands were tied. Janet had been livid when she found out that James had cleared him. I had been privy to her outburst on Saturday morning when she arrived on base after three days off to find the Colonel doped up in her isolation ward and I honestly did nothing to stop her.
"You cleared him!" Janet yelled. "What on Earth possessed you to do that?" She cursed, getting as in his face as a five-foot nothing woman can do against a man of nearly six feet.
"In my medical opinion, Colonel O'Neill is fit for duty. He said he was sleeping and eating and shows no signs otherwise; he said he was sad about the Major but feeling better, the tone of his voice was upbeat; he maintained eye contact. As far as I am concerned, he is fine." MacKenzie responded, straightening his back to give himself a few more inches.
"Fine? Fine? Colonel O'Neill is anything but fine! He shot five unarmed Jaffa then demanded Teal'c fire on him! Does THAT sound fine to you! God James, why did you fall for his charade? Have you learned nothing after Daniel… twice… Ba'al, the Entity… I could go on with examples of the times he was anything but fine, yet you still cleared him!" She stopped and took in a breath. "James, I have reason to believe that he is having nightmares and flashbacks, lack of sleep and a bad appetite. Of course, he won't admit any of this, and it's not yet affecting his health. I have tested him multiple times. Without tangible test results, I have no choice but to clear him! You on the other hand..." She stopped her tirade to take a breath."
"What do you expect me to do, Janet? He showed up exuding positivity, acting like the death of the Major was water off his back. Everything we talked about confirmed in my mind that he was fine."
"Oh, for goodness' sake, get your head out of your arse before Monday. His mental health is suffering and there's not a damned thing I can do about it! My hands are tied. It's all you James. Fix this! Before he talks someone else into shooting him or finally getting the courage to do it himself." She bit back. I smirked inwardly at the look MacKenzie was giving our resident five-foot fighting machine. "If you'll excuse me Sir." She said to me and stormed out.
Normally I'd have counselled her on appropriateness, but not this time. Unfortunately, the blame stopped with me. Despite his clearances, I knew he wasn't ready. Even if Daniel hadn't told me as much. I knew the man, but orders were orders. Even I had to follow them. So – against my better judgement – I sent SG-1 off-world at the behest of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Stopping the mission citing his devastation over Sam's loss was possible, but without a doctor's recommendation to back that request up, the JCS would have asked questions about their relationship. Questions that could potentially highlight certain feelings and while she was no longer able to be court-martialled, Jack could be charged and possibly demoted. As his friend and CO, I did not want to see that happen, particularly since I was retiring soon, and Jack was the only man I would trust with the safe running of this base. Then there was Kinsey still floating around being a nuisance. I was certain that he would find a way to punish Major Carter beyond the grave by having her stripped of the military honours and refused the military burial she so rightly deserved. It's not like they chose to fall in love. At least with a medical recommendation for retirement due to PTSD, I could make a case with the Joint Chiefs.
When Doctor Jackson confronted me, I wanted to lay aside the General and make a decision as George, but I couldn't. I had to send the man away thinking that I cared little for his friend's suffering. It could not have been further from the truth. I had lost people before, but to have a teammate and loved one die in my arms, well how does a person reconcile with that kind of pain. From all accounts of that day, Jack continued to administer first aid long after she had gone, only stopping when a tearful Jacob pried her lifeless body from his grasp. I felt the pain of Sam's loss almost like a father, but as her Commander I was not permitted to show it. How Colonel O'Neill had managed to hide his feelings for her was a testament to his strength and willpower. Her death had changed him immeasurably. I rounded the corner to my office, walked in and closed the door. Picking up my phone, I called Walter.
"Yes Sir." The Master Sergeant answered.
"Walter, hold my calls for the next two hours and postpone the briefing for SG-5 until 1500, then summon Colonel O'Neill for me." I asked.
"Yes Sir." He responded. "Sir… were-"
"Yes… but keep it to yourself. Return it all." I responded knowing what he was asking about. The betting squares had been seeing lots of action regarding those two up until a week ago. It just didn't seem right for anyone to profit now that she was gone.
"Actually Sir, many of us have opted to donate to the DOD's mental health programs." He replied. I smiled. Walter knew everything, he had his finger on the pulse of this place.
"That sounds like a wonderful idea Walter, add my name to that list." I said to him.
"Yes Sir."
"Thank you, Walter." I finished and hung up the phone. I couldn't think of a better way to honour Major Carter that funding programs that the man she loved would need. The funeral was on Wednesday, and I had the unpleasant duty to inform Colonel O'Neill that he was being confined to base until after the service. Rather than force him back to the isolation room, I would allow him to stay in his on base accommodations. It was the least I could do.
A/N: Perfect Match. I truly terrible game show from the 1980's in Australia where a girl asked three guys questions from behind a screen, then picked the one she wanted a date with. Not sure if the any other country had their own versions of this cringe-worthy TV show. Though I have to say, still much better than the awful reality shows we are subjected to these days. Give me Jack and Sam angsty crap any day!