Jack's Fangtastic Adventure

by Flatkatsi

Status: Complete

Category: Hurt/comfort, Adventure, Angst

Pairings: None

Spoilers: None

Season: Fiveish

Content Level: 13+

Content Warnings: Blood and general yuckiness

File Size: 199kb

Archive: Incoming Wormhole, Jackfic

Summary: Not all doggy creatures like Jack, unless it's as an entre.

Disclaimer: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

Author's Note: This is a continuation of the drabble I wrote for `toothache' because people asked where Jack got bitten. Thanks to Nutty for the beta & Dee for the discussions. I have to admit that I completely went against Nutty's advice re the title .

Jack's Fangtastic Adventure

"Damn it, Carter, that hurts!"

Jack squirmed against the grip on his arms, unable to hold back his cry of indignation.

"I know, Colonel, but it's in deep."

Sam looked up briefly, giving her companions a nod. Daniel and Teal'c tightened their grasp, one pair of eyes shutting in anticipation.

Sam took a deep breath and pulled, her face anguished as the Colonel gave a sharp, harsh yelp.

Her teammates eyed the long, ivory object in Sam's hand, the blood making it glisten.

"I just hope it's got one hell of a toothache." Jack muttered sardonically, "Teach it to use me as a pincushion!"

Teal'c released his commander's arm and stood, his eyes tracking across the vast, grassy plain.

"The creature appears to have rejoined its pack."

"Give me a hand up." Jack straightened, pulling himself up, using Daniel's still tight grip on his upper arm as leverage. "And get me my gun."

Sam sat back on her heels, a hint of exasperation showing in her face. "Sir, will you please stay still, at least until I bandage this." She pushed her damp hair off her face, dropping the large tooth onto the dry soil as she did so. "It's still bleeding."

The wound in the Colonel's thigh was not large, more a deep, narrow hole than a gash, but the blood was still running freely, beginning to darken his torn trousers as it soaked into the fabric.

"I do not believe there is any hurry, O'Neill. The animals seem to be resting in the shade of that large stand of trees." Despite his assurances, Teal'c raised the end of his staff weapon slightly from the ground, his expression grim.

The unexpectedness of the attack on the Colonel had left them all somewhat stunned, and even the experienced Jaffa was having a hard time restoring his normal equilibrium. The area around them was clear, and seemingly without hiding places, and yet the dog-like animal had leapt from concealment, latching on to the Colonel's leg and pulling him to the ground with surprising strength. Only Daniel's quick actions had saved Jack from more serious injuries, a hard blow from the butt of his weapon to the creature's head, breaking its grip.

Sam and Daniel had immediately gone to the Colonel's aid, but to Teal'c's chagrin, a flash of tanned hide was all that could be seen of his attacker, as it once more seemingly disappeared into thin air.

As Sam began the painful task of bandaging the Colonel's wounds, Daniel moved forward to stand beside Teal'c, carefully manoeuvring himself to take advantage of as much of the other man's shadow as possible.

He frowned, his eyes narrowing against the sun's glare.

"Where did they all come from?" He took a step closer, trying to get a better view, only to have the Jaffa's large hand pull him back. He nodded distractedly, acknowledging the wisdom of not getting any nearer. "They look similar to hyenas. Other than that I can't really tell much from this distance."

"What's to tell?" Jack rubbed at the bridge of his nose, a line forming on his brow. "You can check them over all you like, as soon as I get within shooting range of the bastard that bit me." His tone was tense and the rubbing intensified as he inhaled sharply. "You finished yet, Carter?"

"Just about done, sir." She nodded, reaching into the medical kit to pull out a small packet of tablets. "Animal bites are notorious sources of infection. You better take some antibiotics just to be on the safe side."

Jack grunted as he took the tablets and canteen the Major held out to him, swallowing the small pills with a grimace. He gingerly touched the thick dressing on his thigh, before rolling a little, bending the knee of his good leg.

"What are you doing?" Daniel hurried to his side, distracted from his perusal of the creatures by Jack's movement.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" The reply was swift and annoyed. "I'm getting up off my backside and putting on a fresh pair of pants. Feeling a little exposed here, Daniel." Jack indicated the ragged remains of his BDU trousers. "I can't go hunting like this."

"You won't go hunting at all." Daniel gave a small push and the Colonel collapsed back onto the ground. "You'll stay here. You saw how fast those things could move. Do you really think you're in any condition to track one?"

"I don't need to track one." Jack pointed past his friend's shoulder, indicating the pack of animals under the trees. "They're right there." Then he paused, before turning his pointing finger back to the other man. "Anyway, who died and made you leader?"

"You almost did, you idiot, now be quiet and rest while we set up camp." Daniel's words were tempered by a smile of affectionate exasperation.

"Set up camp? What? Here, next to them?" Jack indicated the animals with a wave of his hand. "I don't think so! So not a good move." He pushed up again, this time gaining his feet. "We need to put some distance between us and them, find a more defensible position that's less out in the open."

He stopped, biting off his words and wavering slightly. Daniel put a hand out to steady him.

"You can barely stand upright, let alone walk. Why don't we set up camp here? Most wild animals are scared off by fire, plus I don't think that they'll be a match for our weapons."

"Daniel's right, sir. The sun's setting, and you really shouldn't be moving just yet, at least not until we're sure the bleeding has stopped."

Teal'c's voice joined that of Sam's. "I do not think it would be advisable to attempt to travel after dark." He nodded towards the trees. "The creatures are stirring."

The pack appeared to have grown, now numbering approximately fifteen of the animals. Several of the larger ones were moving around, pacing backwards and forwards between their still sitting companions, their heads swinging on large, slopping shoulders. Even as SG-1 watched more stood, stretching, their mouths opening impossibly wide as they yawned, long teeth matching the one still discarded at the Colonel's feet, showing.

Jack nodded, finally accepting the wisdom of their advice.

"Okay, we camp here tonight then head home in the morning." He wiped sweat from his face with the back of his hand. "At least it should cool down a little after the sun sets."

He couldn't conceal a shudder as the throbbing pain that had taken up residence in his leg ever since he had been bitten, intensified, sending his headache to even more excruciating heights.

**********

The Colonel was to regret his words about it cooling down as he lay shivering in his sleeping bag. The temperature had dropped rapidly, and despite the shelter the tents provided, he and his teammates were finding them of little benefit.

Rustling sounds came from beside Jack as Daniel edged himself out of his bag, preparing to relieve Carter from watch. Jack knew that it would be several degrees colder outside, especially with the breeze that had blown up as dark fell and felt a momentary twinge of guilt as he huddled up to conserve warmth, pulling his knees as close to his chest as possible. The tug of the bandage on his skin was a painful reminder of just how useless he would be if he were out there, so he burrowed his head down and tried to sleep.

**********

Daniel woke to the sound of Jack turning, the soft sound of cloth moving a counterpoint to the small moans of discomfort coming from the injured man. He flicked the cover off his watch. Forty minutes - barely time to warm up and get to sleep after he had finished his watch.

Jack moaned again.

Maybe he was cold. Rather than wake him up, Daniel sat up and peeled off his jacket, piling it on top of the other man's sleeping bag, hoping the added warmth would help. He lay for a while, listening until it seemed that Jack had settled, then drifted off to sleep himself.

**********

"Daniel"

Jack's voice woke the archaeologist. He opened his eyes to the blinding beam of a flashlight shining directly in his face.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

He didn't try to conceal his annoyance - it wasn't as if Jack O'Neill hadn't frequently chastised him many times on their early missions for doing exactly the same thing.

"Ah...I think I have a problem here."

Jack's reply was hesitant, his normally strong voice shaky in the extreme. The flashlight was turned away and Daniel blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to clear them.

"What's wrong?"

There was a movement and the beam of light was redirected, illuminating a hand held outstretched towards him.

A hand, shining with moisture.

Dark, red moisture.

Daniel lurched forward, his feet tangled in the confines of the sleeping bag. It seemed to take forever, but finally he was at Jack's side. The face that looked up at him was pale, the eyes holding a hint of worry carefully concealed.

The bag's zip was twisted, and Daniel fought with it for a moment before drawing it down.

"Oh crap!" The Colonel's comment was muttered, but none the less heartfelt, as he shone the light downwards.

"I better call Sam."

"Not planning on going anywhere, " was Jack's answer as Daniel crawled the short distance to the entrance, pulling aside the flap.

**********

Sam couldn't help grimacing as she carefully pulled the sodden bandage from the Colonel's thigh, wrinkling her nose at the acrid scent of fresh blood.

"I don't understand." She prodded the wound gently, watching as a small, but steady stream of thick liquid ran out to join the growing dampness soaking the sleeping bag. "There's no reason for it to start bleeding again, unless..." she raised her gaze and looked at the Colonel speculatively, "did you do anything to aggravate the injury, sir? Try and get up?"

Jack shook his head, his eyes tightly closed. "No, nothing."

"He was a bit restless earlier, Sam." Daniel chimed in in support, "but other than that he's just been lying there."

"That's odd." Sam took a new dressing, applying it to the Colonel's leg. "Hand me the roll of bandages, Daniel." She gave a tight smile. "You won't be able to put your trousers back on over this, sir, I'm afraid."

"Aw, come on, Major." Jack waved his hand in the air, "You can't expect me to go back through the gate like this!" The hand descended to point at his lower body, clad only in boxer shorts. "I'd never live it down." He narrowed his eyes at her slight smirk. "If the prospect of my humiliation doesn't move you, Carter, think of the mean case of sunburn I'll have by the time we get home."

"I'm sure we can think of something, Jack, but Sam's right, there's no way trousers will fit over that bandage." Daniel eyed the roll in the major's hand. "At least, not after..."

The sound of a staff weapon blast brought all three heads spinning round to face the entrance. A fraction of a second later Major Carter was out of the tent, her ever present P-90 in her hand.

"Give me some damn pants, Daniel." Jack growled urgently as he hauled himself up.

The other man didn't even try and argue, yanking some spare trousers from Jack's open pack, and throwing them to him, before disappearing through the tent's flap after the Major.

With a muttered "Crap!" the Colonel struggled to pull the clothing on, ignoring the flare of pain. Deciding that his boots were much too difficult to even consider, he limped hurriedly outside, grabbing up his weapon as he went.

The scene outside was reminiscent of a scene from one of the latest horror movies. Black shapes wove in and out of the shadows cast by the fire, darting in blurred motion at the edge of his vision. In the flash of Teal'c's staff weapon, Jack caught an impression of rough mottled hair and orange eyes, before there was a loud yelp, and a large body crashed to the ground barely inches from his feet.

"O'Neill!" The Jaffa's warning was enough, and he brought up his weapon, sending a blast of rapid bullets into the mass of creatures converging on him. On the other side of the camp he heard a staccato echo of his P-90 as Carter fought her own battle, accompanied by the crisp notes of Daniel's Beretta.

Then it was over, as swiftly as it had begun.

Jack stood, and turned slowly, watching for any movement. To one side, a paw twitched, and he stepped towards it to send a single shot into the animal's skull.

"Jack?" Daniel called, his tone worried.

"It's okay, Daniel. I'm just cleaning up." He continued on, limping from body to body, holding his weight on one foot as much as possible. The sound of shots from across the campfire indicated that his teammates were also engaged in their own clean up.

A large figure loomed up out of the darkness, but he merely nodded, expecting it.

"I have checked the perimeter and the surviving creatures have departed."

Jack nodded again, too tired to do more.

"I will finish checking the bodies, O'Neill. I suggest you sit."

For a second, he thought about arguing, but then the feeling of warm liquid dripping down his leg brought the Colonel back to reality. Again he didn't speak, contenting himself with a light touch on the Jaffa's arm to indicate his agreement. Instead of returning to the tent, he moved to the fire, reaching it at the same time as the other two members of SG-1.

"How are you, sir?" Carter asked, coming forward.

He grunted. "My leg hurts, I've got a force ten on the Richter scale headache, I'm so tired I feel like I could sleep for a week, and I'm pissed, Carter. How are you?" Without waiting for a reply, he turned to Daniel. "Scared of fire, eh? Shouldn't find a more defensible position? No need to be worried that we were camping right on top of the frigging things!" The Colonel's voice rose with each sentence until he was shouting.

Then he fell down.

**********

One minute Jack was standing, albeit with a drunken kilter, then he was ass down on the ground, his wounded leg bent under him.

"Oh shit!" He writhed, his hands frantically pulling at the offending limb. "Oh shit, that hurts!"

Daniel knelt beside him. "Stay still." He carefully lifted his friend, allowing Sam to straighten the leg.

Jack slumped back against the younger man, his face even paler than before. "Don't think about cutting these trousers off, Major. They're my last pair," he muttered through barely open lips.

Sam ignored the quietly spoken words, touching a finger lightly to his leg. The light of the fire exposed the wetness where the bite was still obviously bleeding.

"We didn't get it properly bandaged before, Sam, and with all this activity..."

Sam took a second from her examination to look up at the worried man.

"I don't think that's it, Daniel. Look..." She held her figure up to the light. "...the Colonel's blood seems thinner than it should be, almost like it isn't coagulating. We need to get him back home as soon as possible."

"We're not moving before first light, Carter." The Colonel looked around at the scene beyond the firelight. "There's no telling how many more of those things there are out there. Daniel, you go pack up the gear. I want everything moved to as close to the fire as possible. Carter - you watch Daniel's back, and make sure you stay together."

"What about you, Colonel?"

"I'll be okay here until Teal'c gets back from checking the bodies. He shouldn't be too much longer."

Sam nodded, reluctantly accepting her orders.

************

The first rays of pale light had just appeared in the cloudless sky when SG-1 set out. The rest of the night had been disturbed by the hyenas, as Daniel had taken to calling them, making frequent forays back into the camp. They seemed fixated on Colonel O'Neill, only Teal'c's staff weapon deterring them.

As the hours had past, the Colonel had become weaker, there being nothing they could do to prevent the steady loss of blood, until he was fighting to keep his eyes open. The bandage had finally been applied, even if it was over the top of his BDU's. At Sam's protest, Jack had pointed out that there was no point in trying to do anything more if the bleeding couldn't be stopped. Despite his frequent complaints of them taking advantage of a sick man to camp on top of the Hyenas from Hell, he eventually drifted off into a restless doze.

About an hour before dawn, Daniel had risen to throw some more wood on the fire, well aware of the eyes following his every movement from the darkness only meters away. With a quick glance at the sleeping Colonel, he sat a little closer to Sam, keeping his voice low.

"Is it just me, or does it seem that the hyenas are targeting Jack when they attack?"

"Indeed, it did seem that way." Teal'c had his back to the fire, and was standing, alert and ready for further attacks. "I have been thinking on the animals' actions. Perhaps they are attracted to the smell of blood."

"Wait." Sam raised a hand, forestalling Daniel's reply. "I think you're on to something there, Teal'c." She was silent for a moment, as if thinking. "What if we take that idea a few steps further? There could be something in the hyenas' saliva that prevents their prey's blood from clotting."

Both she and Daniel swung their gaze to the Colonel, the blood still wet and moist, spreading ever further down his leg.

"If that's the case, then it would make it easy for them to track their prey, even if it's only slightly wounded. They probably wait until it's weak enough to kill without risk. If they're anything like hyenas on Earth, they would be carrion eaters as well, so it wouldn't matter if they didn't find their prey until it was dead from loss of blood."

"Well, let's try not to give them the option, shall we, guys?" Jack's voice was dry and raspy.

"Here, Colonel." Sam grabbed a canteen, opened it, and held it out, only to see the hand that reached for it fall limply back to the ground. She exchanged a concerned look with Daniel as she bent and put a hand behind her CO's head, supporting it. She held the container to Jack's lips and waited as he eagerly swallowed down a few mouthfuls of water.

"Thanks." He gave a small nod as she laid him carefully down again. "So they're vampire hyenas. Shouldn't they have little capes or something?"

"They're not vampires in the strictest sense of the word, sir. They don't actually drink blood...at least I don't think they..." The Major's words trailed off at Daniel's rapid shake of his head. "Ah...sorry, Colonel."

"Don't apologise, Carter. It is pretty interesting. Who'd have thought it - killed by the Vampire Hounds of Death. That'll teach us to camp on top of them."

Even without his normal force behind the words, the sarcasm wasn't lost on his listeners.

"What would you have rather we had done, O'Neill? In the short time we had before nightfall we could not have gone far, and we would not have been able to establish a camp as we did. There was no better place, the terrain between us and the Chap'pai is completely flat, plus the animals would have easily caught up to us regardless of how far we travelled."

Teal'c remained facing out into the darkness, his words sinking into the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah, okay, sorry."

Mutter.

"What was that, Jack?'

"He's right."

Mutter.

"Could you speak up, Jack, I'm finding it a bit hard to hear you."

"Oh for crying out loud, Daniel! Sick man here, remember."

"Yes, Daniel. Leave Colonel O'Neill alone." Sam grinned over at her companion. "Let him rest."

Her response elicited a smile from Jack. "Ten points to Major Carter for her excellent support of her CO." Despite his joking words, his eyelids were drooping shut again.

Sam put her finger to her lips, stopping Daniel before he could speak.

The Colonel was asleep.

That morning he didn't wake up.

**********

Sam and Daniel dragged their unconscious leader between them, his feet trailing in the dirt. Any other option had been taken from them by the frequency of the animals' attacks. Dawn hadn't deterred them, and they appeared to have been joined by further pack members. The creatures dogged the heels of their retreat, disappearing as soon as a weapon was raised, their actions showing an unexpected degree of intelligence.

Teal'c's staff weapon was the most effective deterrent in their arsenal, making it impossible for the Jaffa to carry the Colonel. The trail of blood leading back to their camp was far from dwindling, and, to the horror of the human members of the team, several of the larger animals now had muzzles caked with red from where they had been nuzzling the damp soil. Large tongues swiped at mouths, and it was almost as if they could see smiles of pleasure at the taste.

Stopping was impossible, neither the hyenas, nor the Colonel's rapidly failing health allowed any rest. Sam had taken to touching his forehead whenever she could relax her grip on his arm enough to do so. He felt alternately hot and dry, and cold and clammy, changing from one to the other with disconcerting rapidity.

**********

They were still several hours from the Gate when it happened. Another attack had Daniel and Sam drop the Colonel unceremoniously to the ground, their weapons raised. Teal'c was already firing, the smell of burnt hair strong in the still air.

The fight was fierce and bloody. The largest of the creatures concentrated their attention on the Jaffa - a new tactic. They snapped at him, darting in from all directions, and he spun on his heels, aiming not so much for individuals, but into the mass of bodies.

It was a few minutes before he realised what they were doing. Instead of fighting back to back with his comrades, he was now isolated, several feet from them, with the pack leaders between him and them. He fired desperately into their midst, but they seemed to shift aside, avoiding most of the blasts.

"Teal'c!" Daniel Jackson's cry had him turning, his staff weapon tracking with him, its head glowing fiercely.

His teammates were standing over their unconscious leader, Major Carter's feet almost treading on his legs. Brown bodies surged around them, until, to Teal'c's dismay, the Major was knocked over, and he watched in horror as she disappeared under a pile of flashing teeth and claws.

Teal'c felt a pull on this arm, and he shifted his stance, his attention stolen by the mass of creatures around him. As he fought, he caught Daniel Jackson's lunge towards the fallen woman in his peripheral vision, just as his grip on his staff weapon was broken.

Within seconds, he was down.

***********

It was the smell that woke him. A sharp, extremely unpleasant smell. The sort of smell he associated with tomcats.

A very hard smell to ignore.

Trying not to breath too deeply, he cracked open one eye, the one not pressed into the soft surface of whatever he was lying on. It took a surprising amount of effort, but finally he was rewarded with a foggy view of a sideways world.

And two very large paws.

He lifted his head, shaking off the haze, and opening both eyes. The animal standing a few inches away from his face snarled, its long teeth showing. Jack couldn't help but notice the gap on the right side of its mouth, the area around it red and inflamed.

"I was a bit tougher than you thought, wasn't I."

The sound of Jack's voice, rough and dry though it was, sent the massive beast into a frenzy of growling, its hackles raised, the coarse hair between its shoulder blades standing up and making it appear even bigger than it already was. Its head came down, and it took a step closer.

Jack realised that he was at a distinct disadvantage - the hyena was twice the size of a large dog, and built like a linebacker.

He stared at the creature, reluctant to take his gaze from the orange eyes, sensing that a momentary distraction on his part was all it needed to attack.

Then he heard it.

From all around him there was the soft, breathy sound of panting. He threw a look rapidly to each side, quickly gauging his situation, catching the impression of grey depths and shadows inhabited by eyes - too many to count.

Concentrating his stare back on the animal in front of him, Jack struggled to sit, levering up against the damp, rocky wall at his back. When he was positioned as best he could, he quickly patted at his pockets, hoping against hope that by some miracle a weapon had attached itself to him by magnetism, or perhaps, on an outside chance, by magic. No such luck. He didn't have his vest on, and the emptiness of his BDU pockets reminded him of his hurried change of clothing.

There was a sound, surprisingly like a sigh of annoyance, and the hyena stepped back, backing off a few paces. Keeping its eyes fixed on Jack, it turned in a circle before flopping down, tongue out, looking for all the world like a dog curling up in front of a fire.

Jack let out the breath he hadn't realised he was holding, the tension in his muscles loosening slightly. He took a moment to access the situation.

He was in a large cave, the only opening off to his left, showing only as a narrow band of light. Sparsely scattered blades of desiccated grass covered the floor, and they were the only relief from the monotonous rock of walls and ground. That's if you discounted the scores of hyenas sitting, both alone and in groups, on all sides. From pups to pack leader they were all there.

And they were all staring at him.

Crap.

Jack slowly felt along his upper leg, wincing at the stab of pain that rose as he touched the site of the bite. He dropped his eyes for a second, seeing the only positive thing in an otherwise dire situation - the wound had stopped bleeding. The bandage he remembered Carter tying tightly around it was gone, and his pants were stuck to his leg with a large patch of dried blood.

Carter.

The Colonel's head spun as a wave of dizziness past over him.

His team.

He frowned in concentration. How he had gotten from sleeping at the campfire with his team to here was a complete blank. Perhaps they had brought him here, finding the cave and making a stand here. Maybe they were somewhere nearby.

Maybe they were dead, killed by the creatures before him.

"Carter? Teal'c? Daniel?" His shout wasn't loud, barely more than a croak from between his dry lips, but it was enough.

Enough to evoke a reaction.

With a savage snarl, the pack leader leapt. Dagger-like teeth wrapped around his throat before he could even move to defend himself.

Jack struggled, pressing his hands up into the animal's face, pushing hard against its muzzle. The pressure on his throat increased, as the full weight of the massive beast was thrown on to him, knocking him completely to the floor. Try as he might, he couldn't budge the creature, and gradually he felt his consciousness fade as he struggled to breathe.

**********

"He isn't here." Daniel stopped in his tracks, and sat, taking his hat off and wiping his brow with his bandana. "He's just vanished."

"O'Neill cannot have vanished, Daniel Jackson. Even if the animals somehow pulled him from the battle, they could not have taken him far. We must continue to search."

Sam crouched beside Daniel, her face red from the heat. "Teal'c's right. The Colonel must be somewhere close by." She took another swig of water, then carefully recapped the bottle, nodding as if she had made a decision. "We need more manpower. We'll go back to the SGC and request some additional teams for the search. It's only two hours walk, and we'll be back here before nightfall."

Teal'c shook his head. "If O'Neill is still bleeding he may not have two hours."

"And he may already be dead." Sam snapped back. "Those hyenas may have killed him by now. All we might find is bones, but at least we will have found him!" For a moment she glared up at her two teammates, her expression furious, then, with an abrupt movement she stood, easing her pack on her shoulders and started walking.

"Ah, Sam?" Daniel quickly rose, throwing Teal'c a questioning look as he did so. "Sam?"

There was no answer from the Major as she continued walking in the direction of the gate. The others hurried to catch up, Teal'c giving a last and almost desperate scan of the area they were leaving before he too strode after the woman.

"Sam, wait!" Daniel grabbed at her arm, tugging at her to make her stop.

She rounded on him, her eyes flashing. "What? What, Daniel? You want to stay here and keep looking for the Colonel? We've been searching for hours. There's no sign of him, and I don't see what more we can do. We need help." She shut her eyes for a second, before pulling her arm away.

Daniel took in the stiff back, and the quick glance he caught of the expression in her eyes. Just for a moment, the pain of leaving Jack behind shone through, before the soldier's mask came down.

He put his hand on her arm once more, but this time, not to stop her, but to support her decision. "You're right, Sam. We don't know what we're dealing with here." He smiled a little. "We'll find him. I'm sure we will."

"I hope that you are correct, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c stepped up beside them, his voice deep and serious. "There must be something more to these creatures than first appeared. They acted with great intelligence."

The others nodded in agreement. The hyenas' attack had ended with a startling suddenness, the animals vanishing completely, leaving only the scuffed ground and a few patches of blood to show they had even been there. They all just disappeared, dead as well as wounded, and it was only when the stunned teammates regained their feet and looked around that they realised Colonel O'Neill was gone as well.

The three turned back towards in the direction of the gate and started walking, leaving their leader behind them.

**********

A low growl insinuated itself into the buzzing that was background noise to the kaleidoscope of light flashing across the back of Jack's eyeballs. The volume of the sound seemed to depend on his movement. Flinch a little and it grew louder, move his legs and it rose to an angry snarl.

So he stayed as still as possible, his mind slowly cycling through possible scenarios.

Jack began to catalogue his injuries. His leg was aching, but not too badly, just the dull ache of a healing wound. His throat was much worse than his leg, feeling like it been staked out in the sun for hours, hot lines of pain dragging down it. He began to raise a hand to investigate, but found he couldn't do more than twitch his fingers. He was beginning to feel panic hovering at the edges of his consciousness when he flinched again, startled as cool water was stroked across his neck, making him wonder if someone was reading his mind. It felt unbelievably good - soothing the heat, taking away the pain, and making him sigh in relief.

He must be in the infirmary.

Now if only he could remember what he had done to himself this time.

The damp cloth was wiped down the side of his throat once more. He shivered with the mixture of pleasure and pain, coolness and heat, feeling and numbness, and a sensation of euphoria swept over him.

Jack relaxed, his eyes open and staring, seeing only lightning strikes of colour. The growls, forgotten in the rapture of confused stimulation, diminished as his lethargy grew until they stopped completely.

Soon the only sound was Jack's harsh breathing, and the lapping of tongues against flesh.

**********

Jack had no idea how much time had passed. His lips were dry and cracked, the taste of blood on his tongue, and it was his need for water that finally brought him out of the stupor into which he had fallen.

Was it yesterday when he had found himself here? Or the day before? Time had stopped for him sometime in those first hours. All he knew was that he had a thirst that overpowered all other needs. He was on his back, near the back wall of the cave, seemingly in the same spot in which he had awoken before. Carefully, he lifted his head, listening and trying to see.

Maybe this was his chance.

With an effort of will, his arms trembling, he managed to get into a sitting position. He thought himself alone, but vague memories of watchers had made him cautious, so before moving further he stayed leaning against the wall, and peered around carefully. Finding nothing but shadows, he took a chance, pushing upwards, using his back to gain purchase on the hard surface behind him.

It was useless. Try as he might, he was unable to gain his feet, the weakness in his limbs betraying him. So Jack did what he had to do, crawling off into the darkness, because the unknown was better than his current circumstances. Dry grass cracked under him, sounding loud in the silence, and he paused often to listen and try to penetrate the gloom, all his senses waking as his sluggish brain began to function properly once more.

As his mind cleared, he realised he had two goals, finding water was the most imperative, but finding his team came a very close second.

He discovered his first objective only a few feet from where he had lain. A small pool of water gleamed in front of him on a clear patch of rock, fed by a trickle running down the wall. He pulled himself up onto his knees, holding his weight with one hand, and scooped the liquid into his mouth, savouring the coolness as it ran down his parched throat. He did not allow himself to take too much, the temptation to duck his head under and swallow until he burst almost overwhelming.

His thirst sated at last, Jack sat, finding his limbs more able to take the strain. Ignoring the pain behind his eyes, he looked around, flashes of memory filling in the gaps.

He shook his head at the images his mind dredged up. It couldn't have happened like that - he was remembering a dream.

He must be.

He looked down into the pool, the dull light enough to show his reflection shimmering below him. He choked back a gasp. The face that stared up at him was pale almost to the point of translucence, smears of dirt the only colour, with eyes sunken and dull.

Standing at last, Jack staggered into a patch of blackness, finding a corner between two looming shoulders of stone. Pressing himself into the space, he wedged himself against the rock, in as defensible a position as he could manage under the circumstances.

He clearly remembered waking here, but ... he reached up and touched his neck, feeling along the ragged gash he found there. It had stopped bleeding, but how long ago he couldn't be sure.

The animal had done that, grabbing him by the throat - he was certain of that. It was what happened after that he couldn't recall. He had thought himself back in the infirmary, but that was obviously wrong.

He shifted, trying to get more comfortable, knocking his left arm against the wall in the process. The burst of agony set his senses reeling once more, and he almost fell - almost - but he knew that once he fell he may not be able to get up again, so he steadied his legs, locking his knees and holding himself as straight as possible, riding out the pain.

It was long minutes before Jack opened eyes he hadn't realised he had closed and looked down. Running along the length of his forearm was a wound, a long deep gash reaching from wrist to the inside of his elbow. In parts the gleam of white bone showed through, muscles and veins exposed where the skin was pulled back, hanging loose.

This time Jack couldn't help it - he was on his knees, his right hand gripping the wounded arm as if by holding it, the pieces would stay in place. All his attention was fixed on the throbbing of his blood running unhindered through veins and arteries impossibly whole.

God!

Jack pulled his eyes from the sight, his situation even more desperate than before. He had to get out of here. This could be his only chance to escape and find the others.

He had to take it.

His stumbling run took him to the entrance of the cave within minutes. He held a hand up, protecting his eyes from the blinding light, and looked around. In the background, the vast plain stretched out in front of him, as featureless as he remembered, stunted trees and thorny scrubs the only vegetation.

The foreground was another story entirely.

Jack reached for the gun he no longer had.

The pack stared back at him from where they sat.

Then the leader stood, stretching. He moved from the middle of the group of females that surrounded him, and slowly approached. His tongue lolled out the side of his mouth, saliva dripping in long thick strands from his jowls.

From all sides the other males began to advance, until Jack was surrounded by a semi circle of orange eyes and sharp, gleaming fangs. His only recourse was retreat, back into the cave - find a corner and make a stand. How long he could hold out was debatable, but Jack O'Neill had no intention of going down without a fight. He bent, searching in the dust for a rock, a stick - anything with which to defend himself, cursing his own stupidity for not thinking of it before he left the cavern.

His groping hand found nothing but dry soil and pebbles.

The leader took a step closer, and Jack dropped into a half crouch, ready for his attack, his eyes locked on the creature.

Orange eyes met brown ones.

The brown ones blinked.

Jack did something he swore never to do by choice, not for any enemy. He dropped to his knees, his gaze fixed on the flames within the strange eyes.

And extended his left arm.

It was as if the leader smiled, his teeth showing in a wide grin. The animal shook itself, dirt and dust rising to be taken away by the slight breeze that swept the plain, and took four deliberate paces forward. His eyes still holding those of his prey, he lowered his head and bit, fangs piercing the exposed vein.

For long moments the leader sucked the precious fluid, before stepping back, his tongue catching the last drops that fell upon his chin. Then the other males came, each taking their turn. The day before the females and young had fed, but this time the males needed to build their strength.

They were hunting this night.

Jack knelt, arm out.

He was floating, the euphoria such as he had never before experienced. Each time the blood was sucked from his vein, his whole being pulsed with pleasure, until he was riding a wave of ecstasy. His whole body shuddered, tremors that only caused to add to the exhilaration.

**********

When his pack mates were done, the leader led the prey back inside to its spot against the far wall. He took one long, last drink, then licked across the wound, closing off the vein. This one was strong, and would sustain the pack for weeks if carefully handled. He padded away, returning almost immediately with a large piece of meat from the kill he had made that day, dropping it beside the prey. He waited for a moment, but the creature made no move to eat, merely sitting, its odd eyes unfocused.

The leader gave a soft growl and turned away. If the prey was hungry, it would eat. If not, it would die.

Such was the way of things.

**********

Sam stepped out of the gate, and moved off the slightly raised platform. She scanned the area around her, ignoring the familiar tingling sensation up her backbone as the wormhole released each of its travellers with a small slurp. There was no change in the vista before her, it seemed that this area of the planet was locked in a permanent dry spell, the vegetation dry and the patches of green few and far between.

The sheering heat of the day, and the lack of shelter in the freezing temperatures at night would make it very hard, if not impossible for an injured man to survive. Her slight hope that the Colonel would be waiting at the gate had been dashed as soon as she saw the empty landscape.

"Which way, Major?" Colonel Johnson asked from behind her left shoulder. Sam turned, watching as SG-10 spread out, alert and ready.

"Our camp site was fifteen miles that way", she stated, pointing, "But the attack where the Colonel disappeared is much closer, only a mile or so. I suggest we start there, sir."

"Very well." The taciturn officer nodded in agreement. He glanced at the sky. "Alright, head out, it'll be dark in a few hours. Teal'c, take point."

The Jaffa inclined his head in acknowledgement of the order, and strode out. Sam fell in behind Colonel Johnson, Daniel alongside her and the rest of Johnson's team bringing up the rear.

Despite his rapid steps, Sam could see that Teal'c was as alert as ever. To anyone else the Jaffa would appear his usual unflappable self, but after so many years of serving together she could put herself in his position, and knew that he was feeling personally responsible for the Colonel's disappearance. He had been guarding them, responsible for the welfare of his teammates, and he took that responsibility extremely seriously. The fact that he had been brought down by creatures that seemed little more than animals would be doubly galling.

Her shirt, damp with perspiration, clung to her body under the heavy vest, and she took a second to move her shoulders in an attempt at loosening the hot material, but to no avail. A trickle of sweat ran down her back, released by the movement, and she couldn't help wondering if the Colonel was lying somewhere, slowly bleeding to death under the hot sun.

She pulled her mind back to the task at hand. It wouldn't do the Colonel any good speculating like this, and given the creatures ability to seemingly appear out of nowhere, they all needed to keep as alert as possible.

Sam gripped her weapon, holding it ready, and scanned the ground for any sign of tracks.

He couldn't have just vanished. Colonel O'Neill had to be here somewhere.

**********

Jack sucked the last morsel of marrow from the bone he held awkwardly in one hand, before turning it over, making sure that all the meat was gone. At first, the thought of raw meat from some unnamed animal had turned his stomach, but he had eaten worse, and who knew when he would be given more food. So he had swallowed it down, gagging a little at first, his sore throat making it all the harder.

Now, days later, he watched eagerly for the arrival of his irregular meals. As the hours passed, he regained some small part of his strength, and his days had settled into a sort of routine. He found the boundaries set for him by trial and error - he was allowed as far as the pool, and had merely been watched by his ever present guards when he dug himself a latrine in the corner as far from where he slept as he was allowed to go. How long he had been here he could only guess, but by his reckoning it was at least six days - six days of highs and lows that brought vivid memories of the seventies and some really awesome trips. He went from flying to drowning each time the pack took their fill of him. He had decided there must be something in the animals' saliva that not only sealed over wounds, but also had a drug like effect on him. Twice now the gap between feeds had been enough for his mind to clear, and for him to begin a plan to escape, but each time his weakness betrayed him, and he found himself lying on the ground, drifting.

The one constant was the terrible thirst that assailed him, making him constantly expend his tiny reserves of energy on getting the short distance to the pool. When there, he couldn't help staring at his own reflection, hardly recognising the gaunt, pale ghost that looked back at him from its depths.

He knew that if he didn't get out of here soon, he never would.

He tossed the bone over into the scrap heap, and licked his blood-smeared fingers before wiping the moisture off on a handful of straw. Using his good arm, he eased himself down, pushing the dry grass into clumps to give his aching body as much cushioning as possible, and curling up, holding his left arm protected against his body, he slept.

**********

A wiggling movement against his stomach woke him, and a memory surged up - of lying in a tub filled with Goa'uld lava, wriggling and squirming across his skin, searching for the entrance to the pouch Hathor had cut into his stomach and he flinched, too tired to fling himself away from the possibility. Then the unmistakable feeling of small paws pressing into him made him wrench his eyes open and look down.

Curled up against his body was a tiny pup, sound asleep, legs twitching as it dreamed. Jack realised it was these twitches that had awoken him, and stared in bemusement at the sight. The pup was cocooned within the circle of Jack's body and arms, its silky soft fur tickling the skin.

Seeing his left arm, dirt encrusting the ruined flesh, had him blinking, the cobwebs of dreams falling away.

Careful not to disturb the sleeping pup, he sat and looked around him. All about the cave the females and young slept, legs and heads intertwined. The males had left some hours before, the fourth time in as many days, obviously hunting but returning with no prey that Jack had seen. He hoped this time that they would be more successful, instead of slaking their hunger on him.

The last time he had tried to refuse, fighting the compulsion to be a docile slave to these animals. Kneeling in front of the leader he kept his arm rigidly at his side, fingers hooked into the rough material of his BDU trousers. He had fixed his eyes on a small grey rock in front of him, refusing to look into the compelling orange eyes.

He had learnt his lesson.

They had taken him anyway, and this time the reward for disobedience had been excruciating agony as the leader had ripped into his arm, mangling the flesh and leaving visible scratches on the bone. There had been no euphoria, no drifting - he had been aware of every new set of teeth, every bite, as they sucked him dry. The whole pack had taken their turn this time, Jack falling when they were less than half way through.

The leader had taken a stand above him, feet on either side of Jack's chest, grinning down and making it more than clear that this was the sort of punishment he could expect if he disobeyed again.

When they had finally finished, the leader bit into Jack's right arm, sucking while Jack shook with the pain, before walking disdainfully away and firing a parting shot - urinating on Jack's carefully arranged bed of straw.

The message couldn't have been clearer if he had written in down.

Jack had been left bleeding on the floor for hours, until the leader had returned. When he saw the huge animal padding across the rocks towards him, Jack had struggled to his knees and extended his arms - waiting.

The pup whimpered, and Jack reached down to stroke it back to sleep. The motion tugged painfully at his arms, the two large holes in his previously uninjured one a warning of what was to come when the males got back from the hunt.

This might be his last chance to escape.

Jack stood.

The pack slept on.

Stooping, he picked up the pup, quieting it with a soft brush of his hand, and cuddled it to his chest.

Carrying it, he made his way cautiously between the sleeping forms, heading for the entrance.

**********

"Christ, Major, what are these things?!" Captain Liam Jones slid into place next to Sam, causing dust to billow into her face. She held in the cough that rose in the back of her throat, and narrowed her eyes, sighting on another target.

She didn't bother replying to a question for which she had no answer, instead asking one of her own.

"How's the Colonel?"

The young, dark haired officer pulled his weapon up into position, resting his elbow firmly on the ground before answering, firing as he did so.

"He says he's okay, but it's a pretty deep wound. Doctor Jackson managed to get a dressing on it before the last attack. Colonel Johnson sent me back to tell you that at the first opportunity we're going to retreat to the gate."

For a second Sam's rapid fire halted. "He can't do that! What about Colonel O'Neill?"

A shape flickered at the edge of their vision and they turned as one, sending a hail of bullets in its direction.

Jones raised his voice above the crack of weapons fire. "We've already lost Sergeant Deol, and we're running short of ammunition. We don't have any choice." He glanced quickly across at the Major, seeing her set face, the mixture of sweat and dirt doing nothing to hide her displeasure. "I'm sorry to say this, sir, but the chances of Colonel O'Neill still being alive are pretty slim."

Sam didn't answer. She concentrated on firing into the shimmering air that was the only warning of the hyenas' presence. So far they had managed to keep them at bay, but at a very high cost. Sergeant Deol had been taken the first night they camped on the planet, five days ago, his terrified screams the first inkling that anything was wrong. The next day they found bloody soil covered in large paw prints, and the remains of his uniform, ripped to shreds.

From then on they stood watch in pairs.

Sam had, only to herself, begun to think of the animals as the Reetou Hyenas. They appeared and disappeared in the blink of an eye, darting in to attack and retreating before they could be targeted. Her team had been very lucky when they first encountered them, and she could only surmise that it was because the hyenas were unfamiliar with SG-1's weapons. Now their tactics had changed.

The last attack had been almost an hour ago. Both teams had taken a stand in the shallow ditch that was the only evidence that water ever flowed across the plain.

Sam glanced towards the depression the others had settled in, a short distance from her own small hiding place. Flashes from Teal'c's staff weapon were accompanied by the echo of gunfire. She could see the top of the Jaffa's head, but nothing more. Beside her the Captain was silent. He had lost one of his teammates, in terrible circumstances, and it was obvious to her that he thought enough was enough - that searching for a dead man was not worth more lives.

Maybe he was right.

************

Jack got several miles before he collapsed, tumbling to the ground. He had some warning, spinning vision and a sudden feeling of distance, as if he was an observer of his own struggles. Realising what was about to happen a split second before it did, he had just enough time to turn his body slightly, keeping the still sleeping pup from harm by cushioning it with his arms. The resulting impact with the hard ground sent him spiralling into darkness.

************

The prey had gone, taking one of the young.

Its mother sat in one corner, her remaining pups gathered around. Across the cavern the young male given the task of guarding the prey was the center of a circle of accusing eyes. He had fallen asleep, thinking the prey too weak to run. When the other males returned he would pay the price for his failure, the packs' justice swift and deadly.

They waited. The leader would return soon and there was no need to hurry. The trail was clear even to the most inexperienced eyes. The prey would not escape.

The pup would be back with its mother before nightfall.

**********

Jack's fingers dug deep furrows into the ground under his right hand, sinking into the moist soil.

He moaned, a low, dull sound that came from deep in his chest, and flopped over to lie face up. The brilliant heat of the sun beat on his closed eyelids and sucked the moisture from his already cracked lips. He moaned again as he tried to swallow, small particles of dust caught in his throat and sticking, there being no moisture left to move them.

Finally, he turned his head, more in an attempt to shade his eyes than to look around. He slowly opened them, blinking, feeling the heat drying them immediately. His forehead creased into a puzzled frown as he tried to interpret what he saw.

The pup moved, feebly crawling away for him.

Jack rolled, tucking his legs under, and rose. One hand was extended, the other he hooked into the torn remains of his shirt. The few feet seemed miles, but he managed them, dropping to his knees with a grunt beside the tiny body. The pup's fur was caked with dust, and it looked up at him with dull eyes, panting, its tiny tongue lolling from the side of its mouth.

He had never meant this - never meant to hurt the little creature. God knows what he had thought, bringing it with him, perhaps only to keep it quiet. Now he couldn't remember. But he did know he didn't want it to suffer because of him.

He bent, touching it with one finger as if to make sure it was real. The blood that ran, rich and red, from the reopened veins, the blood that had seeped into the earth beneath him as he lay, dripped sluggishly down the finger, and the tiny nose sniffed.

The pup opened its mouth, catching the falling liquid. For a moment Jack's stomach churned, then he saw the orange eyes brighten.

With one hand he moved the little creature, positioning it against the exposed veins in his left arm, pulling back the skin to make room. He bit back a cry when sharp teeth latched onto the vein, and the pup began to suck.

Jack cradled it to him, watching, fascinated, as it came back to life. After what seemed hours, he stood, gauged the position of the sun, and set out.

His feet kicked into exposed branches of dead trees, and he fell, only to rise immediately, hurrying on, bursts of colour exploding on his retinas, waves rolling against his skin, making it ripple.

But through it all, through the overload of sensation, he kept one goal in mind.

Somewhere, across that expanse, the Stargate called to him.

Behind him, large drops of red marked his trail, in places where he fell, deep enough to slack the thirst of the following pack.

**********

"You can't do this!"

"I can, and I will, Doctor Jackson." Colonel Johnson turned away from the agitated man, speaking over his shoulder as he did so. "It isn't a matter for discussion." He took the hand Lieutenant Collins held out to him and allowed himself to be helped up. Winching a little, he began walking.

Just like Sam almost a week ago.

Daniel opened his mouth to argue, but shut it just as quickly. He knew Johnson well enough to know he wouldn't change his mind regardless of Daniel's protest. So they were doing it again. A week ago they had left Jack behind, going for help, and it had been to no avail. If anything they were worse off now - one man down, another wounded, and Jack still not found.

And the Colonel wanted them to do it again - leave Jack behind.

Even Sam seemed to have given up, just nodding when Johnson ordered them to head out, avoiding eye contact with the rest of her team.

Daniel dropped back to Teal'c's position behind them.

"We can't leave. Jack's still out there somewhere."

"We cannot stay, Daniel Jackson. We are almost out of both water and ammunition" Teal'c shook his canteen in illustration of his point. "In five days we have been unable to search more than a few miles around the gate. Now the creatures seem to have ceased their attacks and we must take this opportunity to return to the SGC. We do not know when another will present itself."

Daniel was surprised at Teal'c's response. He had thought his teammate would support his contention that they should not leave. He readied a scathing reply, but before he could speak, Teal'c continued.

"We shall return to the SGC. There we shall replenish both ourselves and our weapons. Then I shall return to this planet and I shall find O'Neill."

With that pronouncement he strode off after the others, Daniel following.

**********

The prey's tracks were wandering, meandering from side to side, the signs showing where it fell becoming more frequent. It had lain in one place for quite some time, giving the pack a chance to make up more ground.

Considering its obvious weakness, it was travelling surprisingly quickly, heading towards the stone ring from which it had appeared.

The leader picked up his pace, the others following behind, ears back. They stayed visible, not needing stealth to catch such easy game.

As he cleared the low ridge he spotted a figure moving in the distance.

He gave the call to hunt and the pack joined in.

***********

Jack heard the call before he saw them - an eerie, high pitched yipping sound from behind, and he spun, in the process almost falling again. He stood, squinting his eyes against the sun's glare.

There! Movement in the distance.

The yipping came again, long notes drawn out and echoing, and the pup squirmed against his chest, waking from the doze it had fallen into. It opened its mouth and gave an answering cry.

"Shush!" Jack pulled it in closer to him. "Quiet." His voice was barely audible even to his own ears, and he realised it had been days since he last used it. Days since he had seen another human being.

Where is God's name was his team? Even at his lowest he hadn't forgotten them, but there had been no evidence of them ever being at the cave, and he was sure he would have noticed any signs as he travelled.

Wouldn't he?

Oh God! Had he walked past them? Had they left him a message at their old campsite? Had he missed them waiting there?

Jack wrenched his attention back to the present, finding he had fallen to his knees. He almost didn't make it up this time, having three attempts before he got to his feet. He knew that the next time he wouldn't make it up.

The familiar sound of the gate activating rent the silence.

He hadn't past them. They were here.

He broke into a shambling run, hearing the sound of panting loud at his back.

Breaching the rise, he looked down the slope at the massive stone circle, the alien device standing out from the flat landscape.

Just in time to see the last figure disappearing into the vortex.

***********

Major Carter leapt out of the wormhole and straight into the waiting hands of the medical team. To one side Colonel Johnson was being put on a gurney, his vest and weapons already held by an assisting airman, his remaining team members watching.

Ignoring the people around her, Sam scanned the faces watching from the Control Room, quickly finding the one she wanted.

"General!" Her urgent call caught everyone's attention, even Janet looking up for a moment before continuing her examination of Johnson.

Sam saw Hammond lean into the microphone. "What is it, Major?"

"He was there, sir. The Colonel. I looked back just as I stepped into the Gate and he was there."

"Are you sure, Sam?' Daniel hurried to her side, grasping her arm, Teal'c a short step behind him. The sudden hope that flared in her teammates' eyes had her turning all her attention to them, nodding.

"I'm sure. I only caught a glimpse, but it was him - up on that small hill."

"Was he okay?"

"I don't know, Daniel. I only spotted him for a second." She turned back to the General. "Sir, we have to go straight back to the planet. He hasn't got a GDO"

Hammond nodded confirmation. "Agreed, Major. As soon as we can re-establish the wormhole." He turned away, speaking to someone out of Sam's line of sight, before bending into the microphone once more. "There's fresh supplies coming for your team, and SG-3 is gearing up to go with you. I've told them to be ready before the Gate finishes dialling."

He had barely finished speaking before the clatter of feet heralded the arrival of the SG-3 Marines.

"Here you are, Major." Major Lawrence handed Sam a replacement pack and fresh weapon, and Sam saw Daniel and Teal'c accepting the same equipment from other members of SG-3.

The tiredness dropped from Sam as she impatiently waited for the dialling sequence to begin. Her feeling of urgency must have conveyed itself to Daniel, because he was bouncing on his heels in unconscious imitation of Colonel O'Neill.

Major Lawrence moved to the front of the small group, and as he past Daniel, gave him a quick pat on his shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll get the Colonel and be back here before you know it."

Daniel nodded, his face lined with worry. "But what condition will he be in after so long? Could you tell how he was?" He directed the last question towards Sam.

"No. He was too far away."

The sound of the gate turning broke into her words.

"Chevron one locked." Walter's voice came loudly over the speakers in the suddenly tense silence.

Major Lawrence raised his voice, settling his P-90 in his arms. "We'll find out soon enough."

**********

"No!"

A cry, hoarse and desperate.

The blue shimmer disappeared, leaving an afterimage that pushed forward and caught Jack in its grip. He walked slowly towards it, spellbound, while large bodies surrounded him, pressing against his legs.

Deep inside something urged him to run, to escape - to reach the circle where safety lay.

There was no point. They had caught him.

"No."

A whisper, lost on the breeze.

He crossed the bare ground in front of the Gate, replaying the moment in his mind when the familiar figure of Carter turned and seemed to look straight through him, before leaving.

Was he still visible? Or had he become, like the creatures that seemed commonplace and yet were as alien as any they had encountered, lost between reality and dreams, flickering in and out?

Each time he saw his reflection he had faded more.

Was he trapped here with them, condemned to become a ghost upon an alien landscape?

Had he gone completely?

He reached the steps, turning to sit. A tongue licked up, wiping dried blood from his arm, soon joined by another that ran across his unshaven face. Teeth nibbled at his arms.

They were playing with him.

He had a choice to make, let them take what they would and fall into the trance, the pain stripped from him, probably not to awaken, or to fight, going down but not under, as a warrior should.

"No."

A word not spoken aloud, but still shouted.

He smiled, his choice made.

Teal'c would approve.

***********

They stepped from the wormhole into a confusion of limbs and teeth. They had found the Colonel, but what his state of health was had become a mote point under the circumstances.

Teal'c was the first to react, his staff weapon blasting into the creatures, devastating the ranks of those at the back. In the centre of the melee, Colonel O'Neill was a blur of pounding fists and kicking legs, moving like a man demented, or rather, a man fighting for his life.

There was no time for subtlety.

Teal'c blasted a path to his commander, leaving a trail of body parts and the smell of burnt flesh, until there were only a few animals between him and his objective. He was dimly aware of the sound of Tau'ri weapons, but ignored it, focusing all his attention on his goal.

**********

Jack knew his team had come back for him, the wormhole's burst of energy had nearly taken his head off, and had completely engulfed several of the larger beasts. The pack had leapt back, even the leader cringing down and retreating a few feet. The resulting confusion given him the time he desperately needed to gain his feet and take the initiative before the creatures had leapt at him again, but now he was standing, more able to defend himself, and hopefully inflict some damage. All he needed was to hold his own for the few minutes it would take for SG-1 to ride to the rescue like the Seventh Cavalry.

Unfortunately holding his own was becoming more difficult by the second.

The leader's massive jaw was clamped around his arm, and something in the back of Jack's mind was thankful it was the left one. There wasn't much more that could be done to that one, he had been unable to use it for hours now.

But he still had his right arm.

He reached out, instinctively seeking his goal without needing to look. His thumb hooked into the corner of the large eye socket and he pressed, feeling the squish as it sunk down.

***********

The yelp was loud, even over the sound of battle.

It heralded an eerie silence.

Teal'c looked about him in confusion, his enemy suddenly gone. The only movement was from the humans, standing with equally astonished looks on their faces.

There was a low cry, and the sound of a body falling.

O'Neill!

The Colonel was on his knees, head down, chin sunken into his chest. One arm was wrapped tightly around the other as if hugging himself, the white fingers standing out in sharp contrast to the red running freely from between them.

"Jack!"

A figure ran past, beating Teal'c to O'Neill's side, and Daniel Jackson launched himself to his knees, gripping the slumped shoulders.

There was no point in asking if O'Neill was injured, Teal'c could see that for himself, the question was rather, how badly. Major Carter was the one best able assess his condition, and he tore his gaze from the two men kneeling in front of him, looking up, searching for his remaining teammate.

She was standing, shoulder to shoulder with Major Lawrence, the rest of SG-3 ranged in a loose circle around Colonel O'Neill, their weapons raised, and, when he looked beyond them, Teal'c realised that the pack hadn't vanished at all.

They were all there, watching.

In the front sat the largest animal, blood and fluid dripping from a sightless eye, its remaining one fixed on O'Neill.

"How is he?" Major Lawrence's voice broke the silence. There was no need to ask who he meant, and Teal'c waited with the rest for Daniel Jackson's reply.

***********

Daniel could feel the fine tremors running through Jack's body.

"Jack?"

The reaction was slight, but there. His friend's breath caught for a moment, before his head came slowly up, and his eyes opened to meet Daniel's.

He tried to hold back a gasp, but was unable to.

It was Jack. Against all odds they had found him.

But were they in time?

He looked dead, only his harsh laboured breathing giving a lie to deathly paleness of his face.

"Sam!" Daniel knew she was busy, he had seen the watching animals only a few feet away, but he needed her there, now. He needed someone else to come and tell him he was wrong, that they were in time, that Jack was fine, that he wasn't dying right before their eyes.

"Christ!" Daniel barely registered Sam's reaction as she dropped beside him. "What the hell has happened to him?"

Jack's shoulders heaved and Daniel tightened his grip on them. Then he heard it. Jack was laughing, the sound strained, but there none the less. His eyes came up and held Daniel's before flicking to Sam's, dark black pools sunken deep into their sockets.

"Hell. That's exactly it - Hell." Daniel felt fingers graze lightly along his arm. "Can we go home now?"

It wasn't a question. It was a plea, and that was almost more frightening than his appearance.

Daniel looked at Sam. She shook her head, indicating the waiting pack, and Daniel finally realised the full extent of their predicament.

The animals were between them and the Gate.

**********

It was real. They were here.

So why weren't they taking him home?

He was so tired.

So deathly tired.

Daniel had that expression on his face that meant there was something seriously wrong, and Carter...

Jack straightened his shoulders, finally taking in the scene.

Oh crap! They were still there. Still waiting for him.

Wouldn't they ever let him go?

He stared into the leader's eyes. Eye. He couldn't help it, feeling his face break into a wide grin, his vindictive streak coming to the fore. At least he would be remembered.

A small paw pushed against his abdomen.

Shit!

He loosened his grip on his arm, letting it drop to hang at his side, barely hearing the horrified gasp from his teammates. Reaching inside his shirt he pulled the pup free, holding it up to examine it for injuries. It seemed fine, none the worse for its adventure.

With a smile, he set it down, giving it a small push towards its family. There was no need for it to be hurt.

The Marines stepped back, and everyone watched as the tiny creature staggered away from them, reaching the pack within minutes. A thin female pushed its way through the others to meet it, bending down to sniff its fur, then taking it up, holding it firmly in its jaws.

Then it vanished.

**********

The leader gave his pack the signal to follow the pup's mother home.

He watched the strange creatures clustering around the prey, the pain from his damaged eye warning him not to interfere.

They could leave.

The pup was safe. The prey was dry anyway, and would be of no further use.

He turned his back contemptuously, the scene not worthy of his attention, disappearing into a fold of light.

**********

Feet clattered on the metal ramp, heralding the return of the rescue team. The personnel in the Control Room held their collective breaths, waiting.

Colonel Lawrence came first, followed closely by Major Carter.

"Medical team!"

The Major's shout was urgent and the tension rose accordingly, all eyes still fixed on the open wormhole.

Then he was through.

Held between Teal'c and Captain Shamol, his feet dragging.

Daniel's arrival with the remaining members of SG-3 was barely noticed as Colonel O'Neill was lifted onto a gurney and pushed rapidly from the room.

The iris slammed shut.

More than one shocked set of eyes glanced at the clock far up on the wall. After so long waiting, it all seemed too quick, too sudden.

"SG-3, report to the infirmary for your post mission checks. Debriefing in an hour." General Hammond's matter of fact voice broke the silence. He didn't need to order SG-1 from the Gate Room, they were already following hard on the heels of their fallen leader.

*********

SG-1 stood on the far side of the large room, watching and listening, trying to interpret as much as they could from the activity hidden behind the thick curtain. Machines were pushed past them, followed closely by bag after bag of blood. Janet's slightly panicked voice could be heard above all else, snapping orders.

Then he was pushed out. They caught the briefest glimpse of a far too pale face above white sheets, before the gurney was gone, the operating room doors swinging shut to block the view.

"Janet!"

The doctor barely paused, casting a `Not now, Sam" behind her as she followed her patient, stripping off surgical gloves stained with the Colonel's blood and tossing them into a bin as she passed. The doors had hardly time to still before Doctor Warner dashed through them.

"Get yourselves cleaned up, people. I want you in the Briefing Room in forty-five minutes." General Hammond stood at the entrance to the infirmary, his expression compassionate. He looked towards Daniel and shook his head. "And before you ask, Doctor Jackson - no. I'm sure the Colonel will be in there for some time and I need to know exactly what happened. For that I need you at the debriefing. You can come back here after."

Daniel nodded, turning his eyes back to the closed doors as if trying to see through them. "Yes, sir."

"We will be there as requested, General Hammond"

The General nodded in response to Teal'c's firm statement, silent communication passing between himself and the Jaffa. Teal'c would see that both his teammates were on time for the debriefing.

*************

"Doctor?"

Warner's eyes lifted from above the green surgical mask to meet those of his colleague.

"I've done all I can for now. He'll have to be carefully monitored, and if his condition stabilises within the next few days I'll begin repairs on his arm. If not..." He didn't continue, knowing Fraiser was well aware of the implications. He stepped back as the nurses and orderlies prepared the Colonel for transfer to the private room off the main ward.

Janet tugged the covering from her hair, giving it a shake. Her tiredness was obvious, and Warner knew it was mirrored in his own body.

O'Neill was in hypovolemic shock when brought into the OR, and that had been the doctors' priority. Even now Warner was surprised that his fellow officer had held on long enough for them push in the volume of fluid needed to save his life. He had worked so hard to repair the torn blood vessels and arteries in O'Neill's left arm, finally managing to stop the bleeding, but as to whether they could save the limb was still doubtful - the damage was so severe.

He sighed, following Fraiser towards the showers. Such concerns were academic considering O'Neill's condition. The man had practically been drained dry. How he had lasted long enough to make it to the OR was a mystery, but one that Warner should have expected, knowing O'Neill's propensity for survival in the most dire of circumstances.

"Doctor!"

Warner turned, his hand already on the door, finding a nurse running towards him. One part of his brain automatically prepared a reprimand for running, while the other took in the look of fear on her face.

"Quickly, Doctor. It's the Colonel."

Damn! He sped up, following her into the ward. He had known it was too good to be true. The Colonel had finally run out of luck.

He screeched to a halt, finding his way to the bed blocked by bodies.

"Let me through." His words made a hole through which he pushed, only to be confronted by the last thing he expected.

The bed was empty.

*********

Daniel Jackson practically flew from the elevator, running down the corridor outside the infirmary and into the ward without pausing, Teal'c, Sam, and an out of breath General Hammond following hard on his heels.

He looked around, unwilling to believe what they had been told - that his critically ill friend had vanished from the infirmary. "Where is he?"

"That's what I'd like to know, Doctor." The General fixed Warner with a steely glare, as if daring him to hesitate.

Doctor Warner didn't give a direct answer, turning first and pointing at the bed, the drips pouring their contents uselessly onto the sheets.

"He was here. He can't have left by himself. He hadn't come out of the anesthetic." The doctor bent to look under the bed, a sign of desperation in its simplicity. Daniel would have found the sight amusing if it wasn't for the look of panic on Warner's face.

"Where the hell's my patient?" Janet Fraiser's outraged voice cut through the babble. Her hair was dripping and damp patches showed through the material of her uniform blouse, telling of a very hurried departure from the shower.

Doctor Warner stepped back, gesturing wildly at some of the nurses. "I don't know. Cordato, Finley, and Shaw were settling Colonel O'Neill when he just apparently..." He paused, and looked uncomfortable, "...disappeared."

"He did, sir." Nurse Cordato, the senior nurse on duty stepped away from the group of medical personnel and addressed herself directly to the General. "We were adjusting the Colonel's IV lines. I had my hand on his arm, when suddenly there was a ...sort of..." She thought for a moment as if getting her facts straight before continuing. "There was a shimmer, and he was gone."

"What do you mean `gone'?" Janet demanded, "You mean he got up?"

The nurse shook her head. "No, Doctor, I mean he was gone. He just vanished." She looked at the bed as if she couldn't believe her own words. "One second he was there, the next he wasn't."

"He can't have just disappeared. He has to be here somewhere." She stared at the empty bed as if by pure will alone she could make his absence a fallacy.

"You say there was a shimmer? Like a ripple?" Daniel almost hoped the nurse wouldn't confirm his suspicions, but she did, nodding.

"Doctor Jackson?"

Daniel tore his gaze from the blood slowly spreading across the bed, dripping from the bag fixed above a nonexistent patient, to meet the puzzled stare of the General.

"Are you thinking this has some connection to the creatures' ability to disappear?"

Daniel nodded. "Yes, I do. It's the only explanation."

"So where is he?" Sam spoke for the first time, her eyes flitting about the room.

Janet brushed a hand through her hair and pulled it away to wipe the moisture off onto her white coat. "Wherever he is, we have to find him fast. His condition is far from stable and any delay in treatment could have irreversible consequences."

**********

Finally Jack felt safe, here in darkness so deep that even the lightning behind his eyes failed to brighten it. He was home, the familiar smells and sounds of the SGC grounding him, and relaxing him further.

His team had come back for him.

He was home and safe, here in the dark.

Soon he would wake, in the infirmary, probably to the sight of Daniel or Carter sitting beside him. Teal'c would be on guard at the foot of the bed, watching.

He knew that this time his recovery would be slow, he could still feel the pain from his arm even though the medication, but come what may, against all the odds, he was home.

Jack stretched out, drawing his knees from his chest, relaxing. All around him he heard the mountain groan, low sounds as the rock moved. It was soothing, coming from far beneath the earth and reaching out to him.

In a corner of the blackness a lighter, quicker song began. Younger and more eager it moved through the darkness as if seeking him out. A ripple, a splash, dancing quicksilver light, and it took Jack with it.

***********

Down in a forgotten basement, in the unused sublevels of the SGC, a patch of red in a disturbed layer of dust was the only sign that anyone had ever been there.

**********

Walter was upset.

The call had come through for a base wide search to be carried out for Colonel O'Neill, who had somehow gone missing from the infirmary, and Walter was stuck in the Control Room, unable to help.

He had done his part, hunting behind equipment for the Colonel, knowing full well that there was no way the injured man had snuck in without being spotted. Then he sat back and watched as the SF's guarding the Gate did the same thing in the vast, almost empty room.

He shook his head ruefully, wondering at the futility of the exercise, given that there were even less hiding places in the Gate Room than in the Control Room. He wanted to do something more, wanted to help organize the search, but instead he was here.

He knew someone had to monitor the equipment, and guard the Gate, but why him? Colonel O'Neill was a well liked officer, and one that Walter had grown to respect over the years.

He wanted to do more.

Walter sighed as he turned away from the window, going back to the program he was running on one of the computers. For the last two days he'd tried to complete this work, but nothing he could do would make it run correctly and now it was taking five hours to do a process that last week was only taking twenty minutes.

He narrowed his eyes, glaring at the machine. Major Carter would have been able to fix it in a few minutes, but she had been off world, looking for the Colonel.

He poised his fingers over the keyboard, determined to beat this thing, and for the next few minutes concentrated on his task.

"Sergeant!"

Walter groaned in frustration as the call came from the Gate Room. Typical - just when he was getting somewhere.

Moving back to the window, he looked down.

The guards were in a huddle, bending over something on the ramp, just in front of the Gate. Heaven help them if there was an unscheduled activation!

Then one of the SF's stepped back, and Walter had a clearer view of what was going on, recognizing the figure.

Confirmation came as a guard shouted up at him.

"It's the Colonel!"

**********

General Hammond had just entered the Briefing Room when the report reached him, and he was one of the first to respond.

He found his missing man lying on the cold metal of the ramp, his hospital gown soaked through with blood.

The guards made room, and he crouched down awkwardly, placing a hand on cold flesh. O'Neill's eyes opened at the touch of his hand, looking vacant at first, then suddenly focusing, catching his own and holding them.

"Colonel?"

"Hi, sir." The voice was soft and tentative.

Hammond tightened his grip on O'Neill's arm as the brown eyes slid shut.

**********

"Do you have any explanation for what happened?" Hammond would have run his fingers through his hair if he had had any - hair that was - fingers he had in abundance if the loud drumming on the Briefing Room table was anything to go by.

Doctor Fraiser shook her head, her gaze moving between her notes and the closed door. "I can only speculate at this time, sir. A connection between the animals on PX5-188 and the disappearance of the Colonel is obvious, given the reports from the SG teams."

"Is it likely to happen again?"

Janet lifted her shoulders in a shrug at Hammond's question. "There's no way of knowing." She paused before continuing, as if uncomfortable with her next words. "I've ordered him restrained."

There were small sounds of protest from O'Neill's younger teammates.

"Will that prevent his disappearance?"

Janet turned her gaze to the Jaffa at the far end of the long table, and Hammond leaned forwarded to better hear her reply.

"I don't see how it can, but I have to try everything."

"O'Neill will not be pleased." Teal'c articulated the thoughts that were running through everyone's minds.

"Is he conscious?" Daniel asked, distress showing in his voice.

"He should be coming out of the anesthetic soon." The doctor turned back to the General. "If I may, sir?"

Hammond nodded, understanding her desire to be with her patient. "Dismissed, Doctor."

"Janet." The Doctor stopped in the process of leaving, and looked back at Major Carter. "Is he allowed visitors?"

"Of course, Sam. In fact I'd rather his team was there when he wakes up."

Doctor Fraiser hurried out, and General Hammond waited for the door to close behind her before speaking. He looked at the worried faces around the table. The uncertainty he felt was mirrored in their eyes.

"Major," He drew Major Carter's attention back to him and watched as she straightened. "Do you have any speculation on the cause of this ability of the animals which may be of use?"

"I do have some theories, sir. It could be that the creatures are similar to the Reetou."

Daniel interrupted her. "But the Reetou were just invisible to us, they couldn't disappear from one place and appear in another at will. We know that's what Jack did from the evidence of the surveillance cameras. He didn't walk to the Gate Room."

"The dust on his clothing indicates he was elsewhere first." Teal'c reminded them. "As Daniel Jackson has stated, O'Neill could not have traveled any distance by traditional means, therefore he must have transported there in some way."

"Transported?"

"I do not mean that O'Neill was moved by a transporter such as the Asgard use, General." Teal'c explained. "I merely use the word to indicate a method of instantaneous travel."

"Actually, perhaps Teal'c has something there. The common thread in any descriptions of the animals' and the Colonel's disappearance, is a shimmering of light." Major Carter grabbed a pen from the table and began making notes on the pad in front of her. "I'll set up some equipment in the Colonel's room to monitor any changes similar to those that occur when a transporter beam is used."

"But how is Jack doing it?" Daniel waved one hand vaguely. "What's causing it?"

They could only look at each other, unable to answer.

**********

The first thing Jack saw was Janet Fraiser' face hovering over him, her forehead creased into a frown.

The first thing he felt was the tight band around his right wrist.

He shut his eyes again, forcing his breathing to calm, hearing the rapid beeps of a monitor from somewhere above his head. The light touch of a hand on his shoulder and the Doctor's calm voice reached him through the beginnings of panic and he dragged his eyes open again.

"Sir. You're in the infirmary. Do you remember what happened?"

He nodded, and took a grateful sip of the water she held out to him. "Hyenas." He glanced around, feeling the same disorientation he had experienced as he tried to reach the Gate. "Home?"

"Yes, sir, you're home." She took her hand away and he felt surprisingly bereft, as if he needed physical touch to be sure this was real. He tugged at his hand again, unable to lift it.

"Colonel, I have to run a few tests. You know the drill."

Jack nodded at the slightly apologetic tone in the Doc's voice, and blinked as a penlight was shone into his eyes.

Crap, it hurt! His head felt like it was about to explode and he rubbed his hand across his eyes in an effort to clear them, strands of color shooting across his vision.

He didn't hear Janet's gasp of surprise as he fought to stay focused.

**********

Colonel O'Neill slept, his injured arm, heavily bandaged, cushioned at his side. Sam was careful not to touch it as she attached the complicated monitoring equipment to his other arm, lying across his chest. She moved as silently as possible, not wanted to wake him, indicating her orders to the men helping her with gestures.

Finally everything was in place, and soon SG-1 and Janet were the only ones in the room.

The hours past slowly, and still the Colonel slept, and each time he flickered into transparency, one of his friends touched him, and brought him back.

**********

The cry was loud, and caught the attention of everyone in the room.

"Sir?" The duty nurse moved to her patient's side, and Daniel pushed his chair back to give her room. "Colonel O'Neill?"

She bent forward, only to jump back, startled when Jack sat up in bed, his eyes open wide and staring.

"Jack?" Daniel watched as his friend extended his arm, holding it straight out as if reaching for something, his fingers moving, tracing a shape in the air.

Then Jack did something even more unexpected - he lifted his other arm, twisting it so that the inside of his forearm faced upwards as if offering it for examination. Slowly, the monitors ceased the frantic sounds they had begun when he first stirred and levelled off, calming.

Daniel looked over at the nurse, questioning. She responded by lifting the intercom's handset and requesting Doctor Fraiser's presence.

Jack's eyes were open, staring vacantly into the distance, while his lips were turned up in a small smile. Whatever Jack was experiencing wasn't unpleasant.

Daniel couldn't think what to do. Surely the movement must be excruciatingly painful, given his injury, but Jack didn't seem to be in any discomfort, in fact, quite the opposite.

"Colonel?"

Daniel registered Janet's presence as she moved to his side. The doctor glanced quickly up at the monitors before taking Jack's outstretched arm and gently lowing it.

"He doesn't seem to know we're here, Janet. What's he doing?" Daniel asked, unable to look into Jack's unfocused eyes any more.

Janet shook her head. "I don't know." She motioned to the watching nurse, and together the two women eased Jack back down in bed. Janet picked up the chart, giving it a puzzled frown. "The medication I've prescribed shouldn't have this effect."

"What effect?"

She took her penlight from her pocket and shone it into Jack's eyes as she answered. "It's as if he was under the influence of a narcotic."

"You mean he's stoned?" Daniel couldn't help raising his voice in startled reaction to her statement.

"I don't know, Daniel. He shouldn't be able to lift his arm.... and his heart rate has slowed considerably." She began drawing a blood sample, explaining as she worked. "I'll have this analysed as soon as possible. The previous tests showed the presence of a foreign substance the lab was unable to identify, perhaps a comparison will show if the levels have changed and give us more information to work with."

She handed the sample over to the nurse, and Daniel watched as the other woman left the room.

"Crap!"

Daniel's eyes snapped back to his friend. Jack was holding a hand to his eyes, a low, desperate moan rising slowly in volume as he pressed the palm hard into an eye socket.

"What is it, sir?" Janet took the hand firmly in hers, pulling it from his face.

Jack stared up at her, confused. His words were almost too low to hear.

"It didn't work. Too quick."

"What didn't work?" Daniel asked. Jack turned his gaze towards him, as if only just aware of his presence, then his focus seemed to drift once more, his gaze leaving Daniel's face and turning towards his bandaged arm.

"They can't feed." His hand came across, his long fingers pulling at the dressings. "I have to let them."

Daniel grabbed at his friend's hand, feeling a chill as his fingers sunk through Jack's wrist to land on the bed covers.

"No! Jack, don't." He shouted, uncaring of anyone listening. "Don't go! You have to stay here." He tried again, forcing himself to imagine the flesh beneath his hand. "We can't help you if you leave."

"But it hurts."

The voice was so desolate that Daniel wanted to demand Janet do something, anything. Instead, he did what he did best, talked.

"Tell me what they did to you, Jack. What did they do to stop it hurting?"

**********

Janet listened, trying to stay detached, but terrified the Colonel would disappear again. Daniel's hand seemed to be resting in midair, as the man in the bed faded in and out.

"Janet?"

She turned quickly to the open door, putting her fingers to her lips. Sam nodded, lowering her voice.

"The readouts on the monitors in my lab went crazy a few minutes ago. What's going on?" Then Daniel moved position slightly.

"Damn!" Sam leaned forwarded. "How long's he been like this?"

Janet watched as the Colonel flickered again. "A few minutes. He seemed to be having some sort of hallucination."

The two women listened as the Colonel spoke.

**********

He kept his eyes fixed on Daniel's, knowing they were one thing he was sure was real. Before he had felt them sucking and pulling as they fed on him, only to realise they weren't there at all.

He was home.

So why was he still trapped back there?

And why did he want so desperately to stay?

He saw the horror in Daniel's face as he explained what they had done. When he described the feelings he had as the blood was sucked from him, he saw his friend shiver. He tried to explain it - the mixture of pleasure and pain, the loss of which he felt so keenly, but he knew Daniel didn't understand.

How could he? He barely understood it himself.

*********

Janet read the lab results, finally feeling she was getting somewhere. Finally they had been able to semi-identify the substance in Colonel O'Neill's blood, revealing it to be a powerful hallucinogen unlike any they had seen before.

Combined with the story the Colonel had told Daniel, and Sam's test results, she now enough information to come to some conclusions.

The creatures' saliva contained a strong drug that once in the bloodstream kept the prey docile, by causing it extreme pleasure, almost as if a reward for being cooperative, It seemed this drug could be administered at will, and could be refused, as evidenced by the Colonel's experience when he refused to let the pack feed. Whatever it was, it was slowly dissipating from Colonel O'Neill's body, along with his ability to vanish.

Sam's instruments had shown high levels of a similar energy to that recorded when the Reetou were on the base. She could only hypothesise that the creatures were related in some way to the Reetou, using their ability to hunt. General Hammond had refused to allow Sam to return to the planet to do more tests, and for this Janet was extremely grateful.

She stacked the pages carefully, giving the edge a bang to coax them into some sort of order, and placed them into a file cover.

General Hammond was waiting for her report. At least she finally had some good news. Within the next day or so, the chemical should have disappeared completely, and its effect along with it. The Colonel should be back to normal. No more vanishing. No more hallucinations. No more dreams.

She sobered, remembering one detail she had forgotten for a second in her relief.

Then the surgery to save his arm would begin.

**********

Jack slowly drifted into consciousness, the taste of anesthetic cloying in his mouth. His searching eyes met those of a nurse, and she stood, smiling.

"I've called Doctor Fraiser, sir."

He sipped gratefully at the water she held out to him.

Quick footsteps echoed in the corridor and the door was pushed open. "You're awake a little sooner than we expected, Colonel." The Doc looked down at him. "Don't try to talk just yet."

He nodded, feeling no desire to speak, and she continued.

"The operation went well. Doctor Warner was very pleased."

Jack tried to raise his head enough to see his left arm, and felt Janet's hand restraining him.

"Don't, sir. You have to stay quiet and let your body heal. I don't want you moving around at all, okay?"

She'd get no argument there. He was already feeling the tug of sleep as the medication kicked back in.

**********

There was no doubt in Teal'c's mind that O'Neill was improving. He stood silently, watching the sleeping man, noting the features that although still pale, had lost their translucence. In all his years he had never seen anything like it, never before watched a comrade fade away physically before his eyes until only the outline showed, hollow and bereft of soul.

One night, when alone with O'Neill, he actually felt the arm beneath his hand slip away, and he had, to his shame, panicked, shouting at the injured man to wake. By the time the duty nurse ran into the room, he had himself back under control, but when he reassured her and she reluctantly left, he found O'Neill's eyes on him, his face creased in a puzzled frown. For a moment he rejoiced, thinking his friend to be aware of his surroundings, that was until the other man's gaze shifted sideways and around. Moaning a low insistent plea, O'Neill held out his arm and Teal'c was hard pressed not to turn away, disgust warring with pity.

Even now, Teal'c was uncomfortable in O'Neill's presence, knowing the price that had been paid to live.

He allowed a small sigh to escape as he sat in the somewhat uncomfortable chair beside the bed.

O'Neill was still his commander, still the man he had pledged to follow in his war against the Goa'uld. Teal'c owed him his life many times over. He was a brave man - that had not changed. Doctor Fraiser had explained the effects of the chemical in O'Neill's blood. From her description it was much like yo'ghaju, a drug used by the lowest of Jaffa to control and enslave, to pretend they were their own masters and master of others, rather than slaves themselves.

Teal'c knew, deep in his heart, that O'Neill was not responsible for what happened, that the fact he had the strength of will to escape the creatures should be sufficient.

But he couldn't help wondering if that strength would be enough to see O'Neill through the trials ahead.

He settled more comfortably in the chair. This man was his friend, and Teal'c would be here to help if he was needed.

It could be that support from his friends and teammates would be sorely needed soon. The Doctor had told SG-1 of the result of the second operation on O'Neill's arm. The report had not been good, the damage perhaps too much for the Colonel to regain full use of the injured limb.

Teal'c sat, falling into a light state of kel'no'reem, while the Colonel slept.

**********

"Hey, Jack - how's it going?"

Daniel was pleased to see his friend finally out of bed, sitting in a chair, watching the small television.

"Good, Daniel, good." Jack smiled, not his wide happy grin, but a smile never the less, and the first Daniel had seen for weeks. "I'm getting all this..." he gestured at the heavy metal frame on his arm, "off tomorrow, and I'll be starting physio in a couple of days if the doctors give it the all clear."

"That's great!" Daniel hopped up onto the vacant bed, bouncing a little. "So you should be out of here soon?"

Jack kept his gaze fixed on the television. "Not sure. Depends."

"Uh huh." Daniel saw the slight tightening of the other man's lips as he spoke. "From what I hear the operations went well. Better than expected."

"Seems that way."

Daniel waited, but it was obvious the subject was unwelcome. He watched the images flickering on the screen for a moment. "What are you watching?"

"Sport."

"Yes, but what sport?"

Jack finally turned towards him, the tension in his face easing a little.

"Cricket."

"Cricket. You're watching cricket?"

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"Nope. Not at all. It just seems a little out of character."

Daniel watched as the small smile grew wider.

"It's relaxing. Makes me feel positively energetic. Why don't you stay a while and watch it with me?"

Daniel sat back, pulling a pillow out from underneath him to fluff it up, placing it behind his head. "Okay, but only for a while. I have a lot of work to catch up on."

*********

The first thing Sam saw when she entered the Colonel's room was him gesturing wildly, a finger up to his lips in a shushing motion. Then she spotted Daniel - sound asleep and snoring on the Colonel's bed.

"How long has he been here?" She advanced into the room, speaking softly.

"About forty minutes. He lay down and fell asleep right away. Mind you, we were watching cricket."

Sam smiled. "Cricket? That doesn't sound like your sort..." She was halted by another shushing movement.

"Don't start, Carter. It's sport, that all I need to know."

"Sure, sir." She grinned, then sobered, holding out the file she held. "I brought the report on the mission. General Hammond said you were expecting it."

The Colonel nodded, taking it. "Yes, he asked me to read it and see if I could add anything to the observations you and the others made, before it goes to Washington."

Sam smiled ruefully. "Well, I'd rather stay and keep you company, sir, but I have to help Doctor Lee with an experiment."

The Colonel nodded once more, already reading. "That's okay, Carter. I have Daniel's scintillating conversation."

A loud snore rent the air.

**********

Daniel woke with a suddenness that had him sitting up, totally disorientated.

He looked around. He was in Jack's room in the infirmary.

Then he heard it, probably what had woken him - the awful retching coming from the small toilet.

"Jack?" He left the bed, knocking on the shut door. "Jack? Are you okay?" Which, he decided, was a pretty stupid question given the sound he was hearing. When he didn't get an answer he knocked again - harder. "Jack?"

"I'm fine." The answer was accompanied by the sound of the toilet flushing.

"You don't sound fine. Should I get Janet?"

"No!" The door was wrenched open and Jack appeared. "I said I was fine."

He was pale and the hand wiping his mouth was shaking. Daniel shook his head.

"I think I should call Janet."

"No, Daniel. No you shouldn't."

Daniel reached out to take his friend's arm. "Come on. Lie down and I'll call Janet. There's obviously something wrong."

His hand was shrugged off, and Jack's face turned a ghastly shade of green. He gulped, speaking through clenched teeth. "I don't need any help. What I want is for you to get the hell out of here and leave me alone."

With that pronouncement, Jack turned back to the toilet, slamming the door shut, and the sound of retching came again.

**********

Jack lowered himself gingerly, carefully cradling his left arm. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he sat, eyes shut. His head was spinning, and even now he still felt like throwing up. He had no energy left, not even enough to lie back on the pillow, so he stayed upright, trying not to think.

The opening of the door was expected, but still unwelcome. Knowing who his visitor was likely to be, he didn't look up.

"Colonel? Daniel tells me you had a bout of nausea."

There was no point in denying it, so he didn't try. He nodded, forcing out a simple affirmative.

"Yeah."

"Look up at me please, sir."

Jack lifted his head to find the Doc's eyes staring into his, and turned his eyes away, focusing instead on a point over her shoulder.

"You don't seem to be running a temperature." A small hand was clasped briefly across his forehead before Fraiser continued her examination with more scientific means, checking the thermometer and nodding. "No. Temperature's fine. Lie down, please." She waited patiently as he eased his legs up onto the bed, and stretched out.

Jack forced himself to relax, the tension in his body a physical pain. On the edge of his awareness he heard Janet's voice as she reattached the monitors deemed no longer needed.

"Everything seems normal, except your heart rate is a little rapid. How are you feeling now?"

How was he feeling? Sickened. Disgusted. Horrified. Guilty.

"Okay." He realised she was waiting for something more, so he added, "I feel okay."

"We need to work out what caused the nausea, sir. You may have developed an infection, but hopefully it has some more mundane reason." He looked up, watching as she pushed her hair back behind her ears. Her expression was concerned and she looked around, her gaze finally settling on the remains of his lunch dishes.

"How were you feeling after lunch? Perhaps it was something you ate?"

Oh Christ!

Jack leaped to his feet, shoving the Doctor to one side, and lurched forward, dragging the leads off his body in the process.

He almost made it, just managing to open the bathroom door before throwing up over the tiled floor. He stayed hunched over, holding himself up by clinging one handed to the doorknob.

"Here, Colonel." The male voice startled him for a second, until he realised it was one of the nurses, obviously alerted by Janet. Stepping away from the door, he was grateful for the strong arm helping him back to bed, as his legs grew progressively shakier. He took the washcloth held out to him, wiping his face, before accepting a glass of water from the Doc, sipping it and swallowing to wash away some of the foul taste. Ignoring the activity around him as the monitors were reattached and the mess cleaned up, he shut his eyes.

A needle pricked him.

"I'm taking another blood sample, sir." He nodded his understanding, too tired to speak, as she patted his arm. "Don't worry. We'll get to the bottom of this. I've given you something to stop the nausea."

Inching his eyes open he was surprised to see the IV had been connected up again. "Is that really necessary?"

"Yes." There was no arguing with the Doc when she used that tone of voice so he lay back, thinking.

The tests were pointless, but he wasn't going to tell her that. He knew exactly why he was sick and it was something he was going to have to work through by himself. There was no miracle cure, no magic drugs to take this away.

Just him.

A thought flashed through his mind that he should maybe talk to someone about this, but he dismissed it instantly.

No way.

Not now, not ever.

He'd get over this, get past it. All it took was willpower, and he had that in stubborn abundance.

He'd done some damn distasteful things...

Grabbing a nearby bowl, he dry retched until he tasted blood.

*********

Sam Carter could hear the angry voices before she even left the elevator, both easily recognisable. As she got closer to the infirmary the words became clear.

"Get out!" Sam had rarely heard Colonel O'Neill sound so angry. She increased her pace, almost colliding with a nurse. The young woman, looking distressed, headed for the stairs.

"This is my infirmary and I will not be ordered from it." Sam rounded the corner and into the main ward just as Janet spoke, her tone matching that of the Colonel's.

Whatever the problem was, it sounded more serious than the normal butting of heads Janet and the Colonel usually indulged in. The door to the private room stood open, so she entered, noting several infirmary staff avidly listening while standing out of view of the antagonists. They looked up startled, as she swept past, scattering back to their duties.

Janet Fraiser stood, arms folded and face red, glaring daggers at Colonel O'Neill, standing toe to toe and towering over her. His left arm was held in a sling, finally free of all but basic bandages, and he was dressed in loose fitting sweats.

"Ah...what's going on?"

The Colonel didn't take his eyes from those of Janet's as he answered Sam's question. "Nothing, Carter. That's the point." He had lowered his voice, but that only made his cold, icy tone take on an air of menace.

"Colonel O'Neill's physiotherapy sessions have been cancelled."

"Oh." Sam couldn't drag her eyes away from the throbbing vein standing out from her CO's forehead. He was angry. Very, very angry. "Why?"

"Because she's a power hungry sadist."

"Because he isn't well enough to be doing anything strenuous."

The two voices spoke at the same time, the words running together.

Janet flushed. "I'm not going to stay here and be insulted. I suggest you lie down and make yourself comfortable, sir, because you aren't going anywhere soon!" With that, she turned and stormed out.

Sam threw the Colonel an apologetic look, and followed after the doctor, hearing a spat out "Crap!" from his direction as she did so.

"Janet, wait up!" Despite her superior height she had to jog to catch her friend, managing to do so just as the Doctor reached her office. "What was that all about?"

Janet dragged her chair away from her desk, letting the feet scrape on the floor, and Sam cringed at the sound as she shut the door behind herself.

"Damn the man!" The Doctor spat out the words as if they were a curse, then lowered her head to cradle it in her hands, her voice becoming muffled as she did so. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't get so angry with him. It isn't like I don't understand how he's feeling."

"Can you talk to me about it?" Sam asked cautiously, mindful of Janet's respect for her patient's privacy.

Janet responded by lifting her head. "I don't see why not, you know most of it anyway. The Colonel was due to start physio on his arm today, but the nausea he's been experiencing has seriously weakened him. We still haven't found the cause, nothing showed in the latest test results, and I'm worried."

"Is it that bad?" Sam knew the Colonel was a bit sick, but had no idea it was anything to be so concerned about.

Janet nodded. "He's barely keeping anything but the most basic foods down. He was well under weight when he was rescued, and he's losing more every day. I don't want to, but if it keeps up I'll have to confine him to bed and tube feed him."

"Hell!"

**********

Janet nodded again at Sam's exclamation. There were some details she hadn't told the other woman, details that made the situation even worse. Just how much mobility the Colonel would regain in his arm was still in question, and any delay would only exacerbate the problem.

She sympathised with his need to get back to duty, but it wasn't going to happen if things carried on the way they were. Light duties maybe - a desk job where the most he had to do was push a pencil around a form, but certainly not active status.

Colonel O'Neill wouldn't stand for that. He was an all or nothing kind of man - his response to the news proving that. He had gotten angry, insisting on beginning the physiotherapy even though he could hardly stand up without feeling faint. The resulting argument had been vicious and hurtful.

And Janet regretted every second of it.

**********

Exhausted by the fight with Janet Fraiser, Jack slept, twisting restlessly on the narrow bed, the dreams that had plagued him for days revisiting him, pushing him further into despair.

He was back in the cave, the smell of the animals heavy in his nostrils.

Hungry, so hungry.

Darkness streaked with light, sound bursting in waves, sharp stabs of pleasure.

He fed, licking the blood, tongue searching out the marrow, chewing the still warm flesh, while they took their turn with him, sucking him dry.

Hungry, still so hungry.

His need consumed him, and he tore the shreds of olive green material from the chunk of meat with his teeth.

Tongues lapped at him, as he ate and flew, rejoicing.

**********

Jack stared at the unpleasant gloop currently hanging off his spoon, dripping downwards in an obvious effort to escape its fate.

He could do this. He had to.

He opened his mouth, lifted the utensil, and took a bite.

Ugh. It didn't taste any better than it looked - sort of like mud - mud from a Bolivian jungle. Nothing like that mud in Russia, nope. Or the mud he had been forced to swallow on PC7-69H. He grimaced, considering how sad it was that he was a connoisseur of the taste of mud.

The Doc had informed him this particular mud was actually a protein enriched concoction guaranteed to help him regain weight and get him back on his overly shaky feet. Jack was sure she lied. It was punishment for his behaviour.

He swallowed another small mouthful down, mindful of the nurse's watchful eyes.

He could do this. He had to.

Already he felt the hard, tight awkwardness of unused muscles whenever he tried to flex his left arm. The physiotherapist visited him twice a day, giving him simple exercises, but he needed to be up on his feet with the strength to push himself to his limits. He needed to get back to duty. Lying here in a hospital bed, he had too much time to think.

He didn't want to think.

His stomach clenched, and he gulped, feeling the tiny amount he had swallowed moving back up.

"Sir?" The nurse was holding out a bowl, but he shook his head, and after a moment, took another mouthful.

*********

"Are we disturbing you?' Teal'c hesitated in the doorway of his commander's room, but Daniel Jackson had no such qualms, pushing past.

O'Neill placed a bookmark between the pages of the paperback and put it down on the bed beside him, smiling.

"Hi, guys. What're you up to?" Teal'c was pleased to note the familiar joking tone was back.

"Well d'uh, Jack! We're visiting you." Daniel Jackson gave an answering smile, sitting on the end of the bed. "We thought we'd come and see if you wanted to go for a little spin around the SGC."

"Can't, Daniel. I'm..." O'Neill lifted his right arm in the air, twiddling his fingers in the gesture Teal'c knew denoted quotation marks. "... `confined' to bed by order of the Doc."

"I've signed a release, Colonel." Doctor Fraiser stood in the doorway, hands in the pockets of her white coat. For a Tau'ri unfamiliar with combat, she moved remarkably silently. "You've been granted parole for good behaviour."

"You mean for eating all my food like a good little boy?"

The sarcasm wasn't lost on Teal'c and certainly not on the Doctor. Her pleasant smile became fixed as she nodded. "If you want to put it like that, sir."

"Does this mean I can start physio?" The eagerness was obvious.

The Doctor's tone softened, and she stepped up to the bed as she replied. "Let's take it one step at a time, sir. You're still weak. Give it another couple of days, and if you continue to improve we'll talk about it then, all right?"

"Fair enough."

The whole room seemed to breath a sign of relief at the softly spoken words.

"Then let's get this show on the road." Daniel Jackson stood as the Doctor pushed a wheelchair forward. Teal'c moved into position next to the bed and watched carefully, ready to offer his support.

He could see the strain on O'Neill's face as he struggled to manoeuvre himself. He took the other man's arm in a firm grip, ignoring the sensation of the hairs on his arms moving as they touched the already sweaty skin. O'Neill needed his help, and he was there to give it, as always.

He felt pride as O'Neill grunted his thanks and accepted his assistance, moving his far too thin frame into the chair. This was still the man he had pledged his service to, a man who would push himself to the limits. An honourable man brought low through no fault of his own.

Teal'c pressed the bony arm beneath his grip, passing his own strength to his friend.

**********

Jack acknowledged the greetings of the personnel they passed in the corridors, just happy to be out of the infirmary, if only for a short time. He had been cooped up far too long. He needed some fresh air.

"How about we take a trip to the surface?" He already knew the answer, but it was worth a try.

"Sorry, Jack, no can do. We're under strict instructions to go no further than Sam's lab."

"Carter's lab. Sweet!"

Good. A chance to play with some doohickies, tease Carter a little. No fresh air, but fun none the less. He pointed imperiously, enjoying the sound of Daniel's laugh as he spoke. "Onwards, James."

They were almost there when the moment he had been dreading occurred.

"Jack! Good to see you up and around."

Daniel halted the wheelchair, and Jack found himself staring up into the face of Colonel Johnson of SG-10.

"Tom. I was hoping to see you." The lie came easily. "I wanted to thank you. I was sorry to hear about Sergeant Deol. He was a good man."

Johnson inclined his head in a move reminiscent of Teal'c. "Yes, he was."

"I would have liked to be at the memorial service, but..." Images raced through his head, and he stopped.

God, not now! Not here in the corridor for all to see. He wouldn't lose it now.

"Jack? Is there something wrong?" Johnson was peering into his face, his nose a few short inches from his own.

Jack forced a smile out. "I'm just a bit tired, Tom."

He could have kissed Daniel when he interrupted. "We better get on, Colonel. I promised Doctor Fraiser we'd have Jack back in an hour."

Johnson backed off, his concerned look fading somewhat. "I have to meet with General Hammond in a few minutes anyway. Good to see you up and around, Jack." With another nod, he walked away, heading for the elevators.

The wheelchair moved as Daniel began pushing it again. Jack sat back, his pulse still racing.

Jack had not known anyone had died trying to rescue him until he read the mission report. The fact that the popular young sergeant had lost his life trying to save his had come as a shock, but it wasn't his death that filled Jack's sleep with horror. Even now, so many days later, he could barely look at himself in the mirror, knowing what he had done. Intellectually Jack knew it wasn't his fault. Even if he had been in any condition to recognise the lumps of meat for what they were, he had no choice. If he hadn't eaten he would have died. But he hadn't known, hadn't understood. He had been drugged, totally unable to comprehend his breaking of one of the most basic taboos.

His actions would haunt him, joining others also hidden from sight. Locked down tight. What was done was done. He would get over it.

"Colonel! This is a surprise." Carter's cheerful greeting pulled him from his thoughts. The Major was wiping greasy hands on a towel, her hair standing up in clumps. A pile of machinery filled the low table in the centre of her lab, and Jack motioned Daniel to push him up to it.

"What's this, Carter?' He snaked his hand out, grabbing a bright yellow glowy thing he immediately recognised as part of a biogenic diprobe.

Carter yanked it from his grip, placing it carefully back on the table. "That's what I'm trying to work out, sir."

And so their game began, played to familiar rules.

**********

The salad sat on the table, bread on a plate next to it. Cool beer waited. The grill was ready. His team bustled around, organising, fussing over him.

Jack basked in the feeling of the sun on his face, and grinning, accepted the bottle Daniel handed to him, the fingers of his left hand gripping it, the condensation cold on his skin.

His arm was getting stronger everyday and the Doc was cautiously optimistic. Jack wasn't just optimistic, he was certain. He still had a long way to go before he was ready to return to duty, but return he would.

He was beginning to doze, truly relaxed for the first time in weeks, when Daniel called out to him.

"How do you want your steak, Jack? Medium rare?"

He took a long swallow of beer before he answered, clearing his suddenly congested throat.

"Don't cook any for me, Daniel. I'm not very hungry. I think I'll just have salad."

The End

Jackfic Fiction Archive Story

Jack's Fangtastic Adventure

by Flatkatsi