Sleeper

By Mary Kleinsmith (Buc252@aol.com)

CONTENT LEVEL: 13+

Pairing: S/J (friendship bordering on romance

Category: Jack hurt/comfort, Post-ep for the Devil you

Know

Archive: SJD, Jackfic, and Helio. Anywhere else, yes, just

let me know where

Summary: Jack's leg injury isn't the insignificant thing he

originally attested it to be.

Disclaimer: As much as I wish they were mine, I know

they're not. They belong to MGM, World Gekko Corp and

Double Secret Productions. I'm not making any profit out

of this - except, if I'm lucky, some feel-good feedback.

<g>

Spoilers: Anything during or prior to The Devil you Know.

Feedback: Yes, please??? (Don't make me beg . . .)

Sleeper

By Mary Kleinsmith (Buc252@aol.com)

Thanks to the benefits of being Tok'ra, Martouf and Aldwyn

were the only people from the Ne'tu expedition who were in

a position to do anything besides sleep, which was what

Sam, Jacob, Daniel, and Jack were doing. Teal'c was only

too grateful to turn the piloting duties over to the

healthy Tok'ra, taking up a position to stand watch over

his friends. It had been too close, he thought, and while

falling in battle with Sokar would have been a most honorable

way to die, he'd much prefer the entire team - and Jacob,

too, of course - live to fight another day.

Atypically, O'Neill and Jackson had shed their shirts,

letting the cool, temperature-controlled interior of the

ship kiss their skin, the perspiration that had saturated

them long since evaporated. Even Jacob had shed the heavy

covering the Tok'ra traditionally wore for the more airy

undergarments, maintaining his modesty with a blanket that

covered him as he slept. Major Carter was curled up beside

him, her bare arms around him protectively, wearing the

tank-style undershirt that was the only option the Air

Force offered other than the black t-shirts they so often

wore. The foursome looked like little children, exhausted

after a day of playing First Prime, rather than four people

who'd repeatedly saved their planet.

Satisfied that, for the time being, everyone was doing as

well as could be expected, the Jaffa retreated to a corner

of the cargo hold, finding a quiet place where he could

perform his Kel no reem undisturbed. The return to Vorash

was still a few hours away, and he'd need to replenish

himself while he could. Undoubtedly, there would be much to

discuss upon their return to the SGC.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The Tok'ra were very accomplished pilots, but they were no

Jaffa, Daniel thought moments after the jarring awoke him.

He sensed movement beside him, his companions stirring back

to wakefulness along with him. Sliding on his glasses, he

was pleased to see Sam sit up, smiling down on her father,

who returned her show of warmth. He was thankful that she

hadn't had to deal with the loss of her only surviving

parent; he knew just how painful that could be, regardless

of whether you were a child or an adult.

"How're you doin', kiddo?" Jake whispered.

"I'm fine, Dad," Sam responded. "What about you?"

"Selmac's better, and she's helping me now. It won't be

long."

Carter sighed deeply. "Thank God. Y'know, Dad, these

risky missions are going to give me a heart attack some

day."

"Yeah, like your occupation is the safest in the world," he

smiled, pushing himself to a sitting position. "I worry

about you, out there, every second of every day, no matter

where I am."

"I know, Dad. Just because I'm the child, not the parent,

doesn't mean I don't worry, too."

"We're still some distance from Vorash," Martouf said from

where he'd skulked up beside them, "but there's a party

planned to celebrate Jacob's and Selmac's homecoming when

we get there."

"You've never lived until you've partied with the Tok'ra,"

Jacob laughed, accepting Martouf's hand as Daniel offered

one to Sam.

"I'm not sure we can handle an intoxicated Jaffa," the

archeologist joked.

"Alcoholic beverages do not have an affect on me,

DanielJackson," Teal'c corrected. "My symbiote prevents

it."

"You can have a great party without alcohol, Teal'c," Jake

laughed, taking his daughter by the hand and moving towards

the ship's front window. The smiling group - Sam, Jacob,

Daniel, Teal'c, Martouf, and Aldwyn - were gathered there,

studying the starfield, before they noticed an absence.

Turning as one, they looked back at the pallets where

they'd been sleeping . . . to see Colonel Jack O'Neill,

still prone, sound asleep.

"I never realized what a sound sleeper Jack is," Jacob said

as his daughter and Daniel went to wake their leader.

"Oh, my God," Sam said as she laid a hand on Jack's hand to

wake him. "He's burning up," she said.

Daniel shook a shoulder simultaneously, only to be greeted

by a groan. "C'mon, Jack."

Jacob returned to their sides, touching the Colonel's

forehead briefly. "He's feverish." His strength having

returned considerably, he ripped the cloth from around the

wound in O'Neill's leg, exposing the burnt and bloody

flesh. He didn't have to be a physician to see that it

didn't look right. "It's badly infected," he declared. "I

thought you said you'd cleaned it!" His tone toward Martouf

was accusatory.

"I did, Sir," Martouf said respectfully. "Or, I did as

well as I could with the limited supplies in the medical

kit."

"It's not your fault, Martouf," Daniel said, looking up

from where he kneeled beside his friend. "But we need to

get him home to Dr. Fraiser."

"Our physicians can treat him," Aldwyn suggested over his

shoulder from his seat at the console. "Much more

efficiently and quickly than the doctors of the Tauri."

"I do not believe that Colonel O'Neill would choose to be

treated by the Tok'ra. He does not trust them."

"Yes, but if this isn't treated quickly, he could lose his

leg," Sam said, and the tone of her voice was plaintive.

"Or his life."

Suddenly, the ship rocked again. "What's happening?" Jacob

asked Aldwyn.

"It appears that there was damage we hadn't previously

detected from the firefight," the young Tok'ra answered.

"How bad?" Sam asked, the fear in her voice palpable from

her place beside the Colonel.

"Bad enough," Selmac answered from where he'd moved to look

over Aldwyn's shoulder, the change from host to symbiote

happening flawlessly, as the ship shook more intensely.

"We're not going to make it home."

"Selana is the nearest world with a Gate. Can we make it

that far?" Martouf suggested.

"I think so." Aldwyn looked doubtful, despite his words.

"We'll have to continually oversee the engines if we want

to be certain."

Jacob looked to his daughter, and knew there was no way he

was going to expect engineering work from her at this time.

"Martouf, let's head aft." He turned to address the three

members of SG1. "Keep him with us, guys. We'll have him

on his feet in no time."

Left alone, there was really little they could do to help

their friend and leader. Jack was totally unaware of his

surroundings, perspiring and feverish.

"I'd better clean the wound and change the bandage," Sam

said, moving her hand from O'Neill's forehead. "Daniel,

can you take over here? Keep him cool."

They switched places, Daniel taking his turn wiping the

colonel's brow.

"Teal'c, stick close. I don't know what'll happen when I

try to work on the wound. He could react . . . badly."

"Understood," the huge Jaffa said, carefully kneeling on

the side opposite the injured leg. He could see that

something was horribly wrong with the wound when Carter

removed the bandage.

Soaking a piece of gauze in some alcohol, she cleaned the

injury as best she could, but she'd never treated a burn

before, and was at a loss even as to where the charred skin

ended and the charred muscle underneath began. She wanted

to gag, but swallowed it. It couldn't help the Colonel,

and that had to be their priority right now.

The severity of the infection was apparent when the intense

pain her ministrations had to have caused didn't arouse

him. Finally, she sighed deeply, resting back on her

heels. "That's all I can do. I just hope it's enough."

"He'll be okay, Sam," Daniel said, his voice reassuring.

"Indeed, Major Carter. Colonel O'Neill has been injured

many times, and much worse than this, in his history."

"How do you know, Teal'c?" she asked curiously. The

Colonel wasn't the type to talk about himself.

"One evening, O'Neill and I were at his house watching a

hockey match."

"Game, Teal'c."

"Yes, a hockey game. During the course of the evening, he

consumed several bottles of a brewed, grain-based beverage

with alcoholic properties. It affected his personality,

and he spoke of his time before the SGC. He participated

in something the military called 'dark operations.'"

"Black ops, and I knew he was a member. He's just never

talked about his experiences," Daniel stated.

"I do not believe O'Neill would want me to repeat our

discussion of that evening, but I can tell you that some of

his experiences were truly disturbing."

"He mentioned a little bit about that when we were in the

Antarctic, too," Sam said, looking thoughtful. "I guess, if

he can survive that, he should be able to hang on until we

can get to the Tok'ra home world."

Jacob appeared by Jack's feet. "We'll be landing any

minute. It could be a little rough, so just stay sitting."

He joined them on the floor. "How is he?"

Her confidence restored, Sam answered, "He's going to be

fine."

She soon doubted that any of them would be, as the ship

shuddered, feeling like it was falling apart, as it touched

down on the alien world. Letting out the breath she didn't

know she'd been holding, she sighed with relief when it

finally settled.

"Martouf, dial the gate," she ordered, unconsciously taking

command. When their eyes met, she added a more gentle,

"please."

Without responding, Martouf, with Aldwyn hot on his heels,

left the ship and sprinted the hundred feet or so to the

gate.

"Can you carry him?" she asked Teal'c and Daniel as the duo

reached for their stricken friend.

"It will be no difficulty," Teal's responded as they

hoisted him, one on each side.

"Good thing," Jacob said, coming up behind her. "I'm okay,

but I'm not <that> okay just yet."

It suddenly occurred to Sam that, in the freneticism over

Jack's condition, she'd forgotten that her father was still

recovering as well. "Can you make it to the gate?" she

asked him.

"That I can do," he smiled, taking her hand as they

followed her three teammates.

When the humans arrived at the gate, however, they were

puzzled to find it still and dark.

"Why haven't you dialed the gate?" Sam demanded when she

arrived to find the Tok'ra standing quietly beside the DHD.

"We tried," Aldwin said timidly. "We couldn't establish a

wormhole. It could simply be that the gate's in use."

"Then try it again," she ordered, not caring if she sounded

a bit harsh. The Colonel wasn't able to be the leader in

this instance, and now, that responsibility fell upon her.

They all stood by as the chevrons locked into place, one at

a time, only to have the growing charge fade and die when

the final connection failed to bring the wormhole into

being.

"Damn," Sam whispered.

"We can wait, Samantha," Martouf said reassuringly. "Even

if they're evacuating, they can't have the gate engaged for

long."

"The Colonel <can't> wait - he needs help now," she said,

accenting the final word in her statement. She turned to

where the rest of her team supported their leader. "Dial

us home, Daniel. Send the signal and go ahead; have Janet

waiting in the gate room for us. I'll help Teal'c with the

Colonel."

PAGE 2

Daniel made for the DHD, but before Sam could take his

position under the colonel's shoulder, Aldwyn stepped into her

place.

"Please, let me help." She hadn't realized until now the

guilt that shone in the Tok'ra's eyes. Some part of him

regretted firing that missile, no matter how much the rest

of him kept saying it was necessary. She wondered

momentarily if it was the host part, especially since he

was no longer speaking in the odd, dual-tones of a

symbiote.

"Very well," she said, uncharacteristically formal. She'd

let him help, but never forget that he'd sold them out.

Prematurely. Praying that she was making the right

decision for O'Neill, she followed the trio through the

gate, sticking unusually close behind them in case her

support was needed.

Daniel hadn't entered the gate so far in front of them that

there'd been time for Janet to arrive, but within moments,

she and her staff were flying into the gate room.

"What happened to him?" the doctor demanded as she dropped

to her knees on the ramp beside the unconscious body.

"Staff weapon blast to the knee, three days ago, left

untreated for the most part," Sam provided. "More than

likely severely infected."

"What kind of hellhole were you in?" Janet asked

rhetorically. There was definitely not enough time to talk

about it now, as she gave commands to her staff. "Get him

on the gurney - gently!" She didn't need to tell them to

make tracks for the infirmary. "I want all of you for a

general physical at least," she added before following her

patient. Aldwyn seemed about to object, but Martouf gave

him a look that instantly silenced him.

It was a sad procession that moved from the embarkation

room to the infirmary. The orderlies, pushing the

colonel's gurney, went first, followed by Janet and Teal'c,

who seemed to have taken up a guard position. Then the two

Tok'ra, and lastly, Daniel, Jacob, and Sam.

As much as she wanted to be walking alongside her stricken

superior, she knew her place, as temporary commander, was

there, where she could keep watch over the entire group.

The only person behind her was the General himself, showing

concern in his own way over the condition of his 2IC.

However, that didn't prevent either Hammond or her from

keeping a vigil outside of the infirmary with Jacob, Daniel

and Teal'c after the medical personnel and O'Neill

disappeared inside. It was almost an afterthought that

they realized the other two Tok'ra were still in

attendance, staying in the background as if they weren't

quite sure what to do with themselves.

"Are you sure you're okay, Dad?" Sam asked her father, who

was surreptitiously leaning against a wall.

"I'm fine, honey. The medicine Martouf brought helped

Selmak, and now, she's helping me. Not that I won't enjoy

that vacation once this is all over, mind you."

"Yeah, who knows? You might even sleep until oh-eight

hundred," Carter chuckled as her father rolled his eyes,

but her nervousness was evident.

"He'll be all right, honey. Jack's strong."

"It's not just the Colonel. This one was so close, Dad.

This time, Apophis touched just a little too close to

home."

"We've gotten him before, Sam. We'll get him again,"

Daniel volunteered.

"Of that, you can be assured," Teal'c added with as much of

a smile as he ever showed.

Looking over Daniel's shoulder, her eyes fell on Martouf.

"You don't have to stay, you know. I'm sure Lieutenant

Simmons can dial you home if you want. The Stargate's bound

to be free by now."

"Actually, we already asked him to try," Martouf said with

his gentle smile. "Either they're evacuating, under

attack, or the gate's been destroyed entirely, there's no

way to tell which. We may be here for quite some time, so

if there's anything we can do . . ."

The door slid open at that point, interrupting whatever he

was going to say, and Janet emerged, her expression grim.

"How's he doing?"

"What is O'Neill's status?"

"Report, Doctor."

"Is he okay?"

All their questions were asked simultaneously, as Dr.

Fraiser raised her hands for silence.

"The good news is that Colonel O'Neill is stable, and his

life's no longer in danger. I have him on two drips for

rehydration and antibiotics, and we've inserted a nasal-

gastric tube to try to supplement his nutrition."

"He was mal-nourished?" The General asked, looking to the

rest of SG1.

"He shouldn't be any more than the rest of us," Sam said,

confused. "He ate as much as we did."

Teal'c nodded his agreement to her statements, but it was a

few moments before they realized that Daniel had remained

silent. Sam and Teal'c turned simultaneously to find a

guilty look on their friend's face.

"What do you know about this, Dr. Jackson," General Hammond

demanded. It was no question.

"He made me promise not to tell, but he couldn't keep

anything down in that place. He said it was the smell -

that it reminded him of his capture in Iraq or something --

but I don't think that was it. He took a hand-device blast

in the stomach shortly after our arrival, and that's got my

bet. Regardless, the few times they did feed us, he ate,

and then went off on his own. One time, I followed him,

and caught him retching. He said that we all had enough to

worry about, and if word got out, he'd be seen as a

weakness. He made me promise not to tell anybody."

"Unfortunately, he's probably right," Hammond said grimly.

"And it explains a lot," Fraiser said, resuming her report.

"His leg is badly infected, and his immune system doesn't

seem to be as strong as it should be in helping to fight it

off. His fever is through the roof, so we'll have cooling

blankets on him around the clock. The antibiotics are

being administered in mega-doses, but . . ."

"But what?"

"If we can't get the infection under control, it could cost

the Colonel his leg."

Jaws dropped all around, the humans looked at each other in

horror at the official proclamation. They all knew O'Neill

well enough to know that being permanently disabled would

destroy him.

"Excuse me, Samantha," said Martouf in a much calmer voice

than they felt was warranted.

"What?!" Sam snapped. The Tok'ra ignored her tone, if he

noticed at all.

"Do you not have a Goa'uld healing device?"

"Did," Sam said, looking at the General as crossly as an

officer could without getting an official reprimand. "We

were ordered to send the one we had to Area 51 for testing

and examination, and once the so-called scientists took it

apart, they couldn't get it back together and functioning

again. I never should have let it leave the mountain," she

ground out between clenched teeth.

"It's my fault, Major, and I take full responsibility,"

Hammond said sadly. "It was my decision."

"No, it's not, General. You only did what you thought was

right," Daniel defended, ever the advocate.

"We've been on the lookout for a new one ever since, but

with no luck," Sam said, adding in a whisper, "and now, the

Colonel may pay for it."

"Jack's gone through more than any of you know," Hammond

said, coming as close to giving away confidential

information as possible without breaking regulations. "And

he's made it through. Don't count him out yet."

"Can we sit with him?" Sam asked, sounding more timid than

he'd ever heard her.

"Later, yes. But first, you're all past due for post-

mission physicals of your own. I somehow have my doubts

that you've come through this totally unscathed

yourselves," Janet insisted. "Ladies first." She motioned

Sam into her inner sanctum. After the two women had

disappeared, Jacob sighed deeply.

"You okay?" Hammond asked his friend as the two Tok'ra and

Daniel and Teal'c dispersed in pairs.

"Getting there quickly, thanks, George. You know, I oughta

punch your lights out for letting these kids risk their

lives over an old warhorse like me."

"Jacob, you know your daughter. Do you really think that a

mere order from me would have kept her from going after

you? The girl's as stubborn as you are."

"And she'd have your head if she heard you refer to her as

a girl, too," Jacob smiled, seeing the truth in his

friend's words.

"You'd better believe it," Hammond agreed, smiling. The

grin didn't last. "Can you tell me what happened down

there?"

"I can't tell you much from when they first arrived; I was

pretty out of it. I almost didn't believe my ears when I

heard her voice for the first time. It's hard to keep

track of time, but it had to have been a whole day before

anything else happened. I was actually hoping that they

were going to let us go unnoticed." There was a bitter

chuckle. "We should only be so lucky."

Jacob took a deep breath and went on with his narrative.

"I was so weak, I couldn't lift a finger when they came.

One of them had a staff weapon, and they demanded Sam

accompany them. Jack . . . Colonel O'Neill stepped in

front of her, refusing them with one of his remarks. It

wasn't bad, something like, 'I don't think so,' but it was

enough. Apophis' newly-appointed First Prime shot him in

the leg without a second thought. Sam agreed to go with

them to keep anybody else from getting hurt."

"Sounds like bravery above and beyond."

"It was, on all their parts. All just to save one washed

up ol' General."

"More like to save a friend," Hammond corrected. "Or a

loved one." He cleared his throat, unaccustomed to the

sentimentality. "So Colonel O'Neill's deterioration

snowballed from there?"

"Daniel wrapped it as best as he could, washed it out the

next time we got water, but we knew it probably wouldn't

help. Still, he seemed to be holding his own until his

turn with the Blood of Sokar."

"What's that?"

"A hallucinogenic drug administered orally in liquid form.

They may have used his injury to force him to drink, I'm

not sure. I just know that, when he was returned, he was

much worse. I was sleeping a lot, but so was he. When the

chance came to escape, we grabbed it."

PAGE 3

"How's Selmac doing?"

"She's good, but still healing us both. It's taking all of

her concentration right at the moment."

"What's her medical knowledge like?"

Jacob could see where Hammond was going with the question.

"Very limited. Definitely not enough to help treat Jack in

any effective way." At the General's crestfallen look, he

tried to elaborate. "As hard as it is for us to admit, the

symbiote's ability to heal has handicapped us in a way.

We've become dependent on it; medical knowledge otherwise

is very limited, pretty much restricted to gadgets like the

healing device you've seen. I'd dare say that Dr. Fraiser

has more knowledge in helping the human body heal itself

than even our best-educated Tok'ra." He rubbed his

forehead. "I'm sorry I can't be more help," he sighed

tiredly.

Realizing just how exhausted his friend was, Hammond

flushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Jacob. Why don't we

go into my office where we can sit down." Jacob looked

hesitant, so he added, "don't worry. If there's news,

we'll be called."

Exchanging a nod with Daniel, who knew what it meant, the

two Generals left the rest of them to wait for their

physicals.

SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1

Daniel was never so glad to be done with a post-mission

examination. Not that he minded spending time with Janet

Fraiser, who he considered nothing if not a good friend,

but it's hard to get any rest when the doctor is shoving a

tongue depressor in your mouth, a needle in your butt, or a

thermometer in any one of a myriad of inconvenient places

she could find to stick it. All he wanted to do was sleep.

Walking past the ward where he knew Jack was lying, he

thought to go in, but Jack needed strength he just didn't

have to spare at the moment. Eight hours of uninterrupted

slumber, that's all he was asking for, then he'd check on

Jack and not leave his side until his condition was

resolved, one way or another. Besides, Teal'c was sure to

be parked by their CO's bed himself.

Somehow, Sam's condition or location never entered his

overtired brain. When Janet had emerged and announced she

was ready to give the men their exams, it hadn't occurred

to any of them that the Major had not emerged.

It had taken every ounce of persuasive power in her being

for Sam to convince Janet to let her see Jack instead of

going right to bed for some much-needed rest. Oh, the

doctor had tried every argument in her arsenal, but in the

end, she couldn't begrudge her friend from seeing her

Commanding officer. She hadn't heard the whole story . . .

didn't know why Sam needed to see him so desperately . . .

and it was just as well. The last thing she needed was a

speech; she didn't feel like being cheered up just now.

And so it was that she'd spend that first night in a chair

by his bedside. The nurses who checked on him periodically

looked on with disapproval, but, knowing of her friendship

with Dr. Fraiser, turned a blind eye to the uninvited

guest.

"If you ask me," one whispered to the other, just outside

earshot of the Major, "she should be sent to her quarters,

or put in a bed of her own."

"Yeah," agreed another. "She really looks like hell,

doesn't she?"

There was nothing to be said, so Carter remained silent.

She knew they thought she hadn't heard, but she wasn't

nearly as exhausted - or as oblivious - as they believed.

Well, to be precise, she was as exhausted, but here or in

her quarters, she wasn't about to get any sleep.

She couldn't tear her eyes from her CO's face.

He'd risked his life for her, without a second's thought.

Nobody had ever offered so much of themselves for her

before, or done it so blatantly. Jack was in no danger

until he stepped up with a casual refusal to let the Cro-

Magnons take her away to whatever Apophis had planned for

her. And the worst part was, it had been for nothing.

They'd taken her anyway. Tortured her to the best of their

abilities while he suffered unimaginable agony back in the

literal hellhole, only for him to be subjected to the same

torture a short time later.

It was all because of her. The guilt hung heavy on her

shoulders, bending her in supplication. If he lost his leg

. . .

"Sam, what are you still doing here?!" Janet exclaimed,

entering the curtained alcove. "I said fifteen minutes!"

"I just couldn't leave," she said simply. She turned her

gaze toward the doctor, and the sorrow there was nearly

breathtaking. "It's my fault he's here, Janet."

"Sam . . ."

"No, Janet. It's not a guilt trip, or my imagination.

This could ruin his career. Hell, it could ruin his life.

All because he was trying to protect me."

"And he'd be insulted if he heard you talking like this,"

the doctor said gruffly. She'd had enough.

"What?" Carter asked dazedly.

"Sam, you've known Colonel O'Neill for three years now.

Asking him not to act when he did, to not interfere, would

be like asking him not to be himself. Haven't you figured

that out about him yet? It's who he is, for God's sake!"

Samantha Carter blinked her eyes, focusing once again at

the man in the bed, only seeing him with different eyes

this time. Janet was right, and she was a fool not to have

been conscious of it before. The Colonel . . . Jack . . .

it was what he was all about - those who surrounded him and

what he could do for them. Perhaps, at one time, it had

been different.

She remembered back to that first year together. They'd

begun as four strangers, not only to each other, but to

everyone around them. Loners, by choice as much as by

circumstances, secluded from regular society by what they

saw as discrepancies in themselves. A geeky archeologist

who'd withdrawn from society after being orphaned, a

warrior who'd lost his cause for fighting and was looking

for another, a scientist who realized that no device could

hurt her the way that a person could, and had, and Colonel

Jack O'Neill, secluded from the world by self-recrimination

and even self-hatred, the one who brought them all together

and made them a family. Now, she knew she, at least,

couldn't imagine life without them.

She was brought down to earth abruptly, realizing that, if

Jack did, indeed, lose his leg, she, as well as Daniel and

Teal'c, would quite likely have to get used to his being

absent from their lives. And that was just simply

unacceptable.

"What can I do?" she asked Janet with desperation in her

voice.

Laying a hand softly on her shoulder, the doctor gave the

only advice of which she could think. "You can talk to

him, encourage him. Some say it helps. And, if you're so

inclined, you could pray."

With that, she left Sam where she was, knowing that sending

her away wouldn't be productive for either her patient or

her friend.

SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1

Somehow, in the wee hours of the morning, Major Carter had

managed to doze off, her head resting on the edge of the

bed. She had fallen into that in between place, where

you're still asleep, but realize it, yet can't seem to pull

yourself all the way to consciousness. Suddenly, there

were hands on her.

"Sam. Come on, Sam, I need you to get up."

Blinking, she tried to clear her vision. Janet. It was

Janet.

"Wha . . .?"

"It's been too long, and he's not getting any better. If

anything, he's getting worse, and I can't wait any longer."

The implications didn't quite set in. "Where are you

taking him?" she asked as they lifted Jack onto a rolling

gurney.

"To surgery," Janet said amid the flurry of activity.

Suddenly, the truth of what was happening hit Carter.

"No!" She made a desperate grab for the Colonel's arm, but

instead only captured the edge of the gurney. "Janet, you

can't! Don't do it! We'll call the Asgard. Or maybe the

Tollan!" She was babbling, and she knew it, but the

desperation in her voice was sincere. Her grip on the

rolling bed was like a vice.

"Sam, you've got to let go," Janet tried to reason, but

meanwhile was prying her fingers from around the metal.

"No! I'm sorry, I fell asleep. I'll get on it right away!

You've got to give us more time." Her voice had risen to

near-hysterical, making the doctor wonder where her

rational, scientific friend had gone.

Finally, she realized that reasoning with Sam wasn't going

to work. Willing every ounce of strength in her body to

flow through her arms, she grabbed Carter by her upper

arms, shaking her hard.

"Sam, that's enough! Stop it right this second!" Another

couple shakes drew the woman's eyes from Jack's body on the

gurney to Janet's own. "We have to make a choice, his leg,

or his life! Would you rather he dies?!"

The harsh words somehow got through, but while Carter was

more rational, she still couldn't quite let go.

"He can't survive disabled; being active is who he is."

"We'll help him get through it; he'll be active again. I

promise, Sam. But we have to go now."

Hesitantly, she released her grip on the bed, touching

Jack's hand briefly before she backed away, nodding to

Janet. She couldn't quite drag herself away completely,

walking beside her CO until he disappeared behind the

swinging doors of the surgical suite. Only then did the

sorrow overtake her, and she fell to her knees, crying out

for her friend.

"Jack!"

SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1

"Jack!" Sam came awake with a start, sitting up abruptly,

panting from her nightmare. The tears in her eyes slid

down her cheeks as she took in Colonel O'Neill on the bed,

still there, and still safe. For the moment, at least.

She touched his arm, and it seemed cooler than it had been,

but she was afraid to leave him to go find the doctor.

"Janet!" she called, and, amazingly enough, the colonel

stirred, and by the time the doctor arrived, his head was

tossing back and forth on the pillow.

"Colonel O'Neill?" There was no response. "Colonel

O'Neill, if you can hear me, open your eyes.

The eyelids remained closed, but both women were surprised

when his lips parted.

"No, don't go."

It was so quiet, it could hardly be heard, but it gave them

both such a rush of hope that they couldn't hide their

grins. "We're right here, Colonel. We're not going

anywhere."

"No. . . . Come back . . ." Their message wasn't getting

through.

"We're not going anywhere, Colonel," Sam reassured. "Can

you feel my hand on your arm? We're right here."

"Don't . . . don't leave me here . . ."

"He's not hearing us," Janet said, feeling his forehead.

It's not fever delirium - he feels cool."

"Blood poisoning?" Sam questioned fearfully.

"We'll take a blood sample and check, but I doubt it. I

just can't figure out how he can be hallucinating." She

was obviously frustrated.

"Cromwell!" the delirious man screamed.

However, use of the word "hallucinating," plus the name of

the Colonel's one-time teammate, was like a curtain being

opened, allowing light into a dark room. "Oh, my God."

"What is it?"

"When we were on Ne'tu, Apophis forced us to drink this . .

. stuff. Dark red liquid that the Goa'uld call the Blood

of Sokar. It has hallucinogenic properties, and makes the

mind very pliable. But that was back then."

"It could be that it has flashback properties, kind of like

LSD. The drug takes refuge in the tissues and can come

back full strength given the slightest provocation. There

are other examples of it among the illegal narcotics."

"Well, trust me, this one should be illegal."

Jack was definitely suffering from just this type of

reaction. He'd stopped calling out for Cromwell to come

back for him, now writhing in agony at remembered war

injuries as if he had them all over again. In a way, she

guessed that he did.

"What can we do for him?" Sam asked just as Daniel and

Teal'c entered the infirmary.

"What's happening?" Daniel asked, confused.

"It appears that Colonel O'Neill is suffering from

recurring affects of the Blood of Sokar. How have you been

feeling?" she asked the archeologist.

"I'm fine."

"I'm okay, too," Sam said.

"Perhaps the fever, dehydration, and weakness allowed for

this reaction where it normally would not," Teal'c

suggested, and Fraiser nodded.

"Makes sense. Regardless, though, we need to bring him

around. All this thrashing around is going to wreak havoc

on his wound."

Daniel stepped up to the bed, grasping his friend's hand.

"You're safe, Jack. You made it out of Iraq."

The Colonel stopped thrashing, but still seemed to be in

incredible pain, whimpering every few seconds.

"Jack, what's happening to you?" Daniel couldn't resist

asking.

"Whip . . . uh! Punish . . . ment . . . uh!" He jerked

each time an imagined lash fell.

"Why are they punishing you?" The archeologist spoke

softly.

"The . . . woman . . . Tried . . . uh! Free her.

Innocent. She can't . . . die . . . for helping me."

Daniel and Sam exchanged a look, and Daniel nodded. The

circumstances of Jack's capture in Iraq, so far unknown,

were being revealed. Apparently, a woman had tried to help

him before he was captured - and quite possibly died for

it.

Sam leaned close, hoping that her high-school acting

experience would carry her through. "I'm okay. They freed

me because of your courage. Everything is okay, you can

relax. There will be no more beatings."

Fortunately, it seemed that her part in his delusion was

appropriate; the Colonel settled back into his bed,

seemingly asleep once again. But moments later, deep

chocolate irises were revealed by heavy eyelids.

"Carter?" his voice was supremely weak.

"Yes, sir. We're all here."

"Jacob?" he swallowed, barely able to manage the name.

"He's okay, too. Almost back to one hundred percent."

He sighed deeply. "Good." Drifting back under, he seemed

almost at peace.

Janet came forward and stuck the aural thermometer into his

ear for a moment, then studied the readout, sighing

herself.

"What is it?" Daniel asked.

"Fever's back up again, although not as high as it was.

I'll have to take a blood test to find out whether it's the

infection or the drug."

They all watched as she drew the required fluid from his

arm.

Page 4

SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1

"I'm presuming that the unidentified property that showed

up in the tests is the Blood of Sokar. It seems to have

stimulated an immune reaction in his body, hence the

fever."

"Well, that makes sense," Daniel volunteered. "It's a

foreign substance his body knows isn't supposed to be

there, right?"

"So why don't they all have fevers?" Hammond asked, almost

as if the rest of SG1 weren't there.

"I believe that it has to do with the Colonel's original

injury. His body was weakened considerably, letting the

substance take hold in a different way, and more

thoroughly, than it would have in the others." She turned

her attention to Daniel, Sam, and Martouf. "How was he

immediately after his original dosing? As opposed to the

rest of you."

"Everybody who was returned came back drowsy, borderline

unconscious," Carter explained. "I, personally, barely

remember being returned. The Colonel was completely

unconscious when he was returned."

"Yeah," Daniel agreed. "He awoke briefly, long enough to

give us a short update of what had been done to him, and

then passed out again. He was the only one that happened

to."

"I wish I could say I was surprised to hear it," Dr.

Fraiser bit her bottom lip thoughtfully.

"I'm sure he didn't drink the stuff willingly either," Sam

added. "Nothing short of physical torture would get him to

cooperate."

"Knowing Apophis," Martouf said, speaking for the first

time, "they probably inflicted injury sufficient to force

O'Neill to cry out, possibly to the existing injury. It

would not be out of character."

"So how does any of this help us to make the Colonel

better?" Sam asked, frustrated.

"Well, the good news is that the infection in his leg has

cleared up. It still has a long way to go, healing wise,

but it's not a threat. Right now, the biggest concern is

the fever and the fact that he's still unconscious. After

the brief waking period this morning, there's been no more

sign of his awaking, and the fever is weakening him."

"Could it not be simply a matter of time?" Teal'c asked.

They'd almost have said he sounded hopeful.

"As much as I'd like to think so, I just can't support that

theory." At their expectant looks, she sighed deeply.

"Unfortunately, I can't think of anything else to do."

"Wait and hope? Is that really what you're suggesting,

Doctor?" The general sounded incredulous.

"Not just that," she said, mildly defensively. "I'm going

to continue the antibiotics, monitor his temperature, and

try to keep him cooled off. Compresses, cooling blankets,

whatever is necessary."

"If there was only a way to clear the remnants of the Blood

of Sokar, then maybe he'd be fine." Sam made the

suggestion tentatively. They didn't truly know that this

had anything to do with the substance.

Surprisingly enough, Janet seemed to agree. "It's a strong

possibility."

"Janet," Sam said with a slight shake of her head. "I'm no

expert, but shouldn't his liver be filtering this out of

his blood stream?"

Janet looked grim. "Yes, I would have thought so, but

apparently, it's not that easy. Something in the substance

bonds to cholesterol and fatty acid cells, where the spleen

can't filter it out. Even dialysis can't . . ."

As her voice dropped off, her eyes lit up.

"What?"

My tests have determined that the liver and kidneys aren't

filtering the Blood of Sokar out of his blood stream, and

the concentration of it, from his last blood test, shows

the amount in his body isn't dissipating."

"So?" Sam glanced down at her so-pale CO, her heart

sending a twinge through her chest.

"There's no guarantee, but if it's all still concentrated

in his blood stream, a transfusion just might do the

trick."

"Do you really think that'll work? Could it be that

simple?" Daniel sounded doubtful, but there was a hint of

hope there.

"I don't know," Janet said, waving over one of her nurses.

"But I know that it's the only idea we've got."

She whispered orders to her staff so low that the only

words Sam could make out were "type B negative," the rest

being lost in the cacophony of the infirmary as her eyes

were glued to Jack. This <had> to work.

"Sam!"

"What?!" Sam responded, jerking back to the present.

"I've been talking to you for the past five minutes, where

did you go?" Janet asked.

"Sorry, just thinking." Sam sighed deeply. "I'm just so

tired."

"Then I prescribe sleep. Right now. You've all been

through too much."

"Janet . . ."

"No argument. It's going to take us awhile to set up the

equipment and get the transfusions started, and you can't

hang around through that. Go get some rest, and I'll call

you as soon as we know anything."

"I will remain, Major Carter. I will not require Kel No

Reem for several hours."

"Okay, but come get us if there are any changes," she

asked, and Teal'c nodded his acquiescence. "You've got to

pull him through," she added, her eyes beseeching the

physician. Her voice lowered to a whisper. "We need him."

"I think you have your orders, people," General Hammond

interrupted. "Move out."

There was no disputing that tone, they knew well, so the

humans slowly and sadly left their CO's bedside.

"If you'll excuse me," Hammond said, but Janet interrupted.

"If you don't mind, General," Janet stopped him with a hand

on his arm. "Could I have a word in private?"

Nodding a dismissal to Teal'c and the Tok'ra, he joined

Janet in her office.

"Doctor, shouldn't you be seeing to you patient?"

"I know, General, but this is vital. Base stores don't

have enough blood for a full transfusion on a man the

Colonel's size. I'd like permission to ask those of

acceptable blood types if they'd donate a pint."

"Approved, of course. But why the big secret?" The

General looked unusually confused.

"I'd rather not have Sam or Daniel in here demanding that

they be allowed to donate when they really need the rest

instead. They're both still at less than ideal health, yet

you know they'd insist on it."

"Yes, they would. You have my approval, Doctor. Contact

those on base who qualify, but keep it discreet."

"Yes, Sir."

"Oh, and Doctor?"

Janet turned from where she'd been walking away from him.

"Donating is voluntary; it's not an order." He knew that

Janet would handcuff somebody to get them to cooperate

rather than lose a patient.

"Yes, Sir," she responded.

After checking her medical records, one at a time, she

tracked down every person with a compatible or neutral

blood type, and all willingly went with her to the

infirmary for a brief siphoning. Janet counted herself

fortunate that she had such healthy charges in her care,

generally speaking.

As she suspected all along, the three remaining members of

SG1 were at O'Neill's bedside the moment she began the

transfusion. Daniel looked on with some puzzlement as a

clear fluid ran through the IV into Jack's arm, which

seemed to be the only part of him besides his head that

wasn't covered in blankets. Three blood packets hung by

Jack's head on IV stands, and an odd-looking machine was

near his feet.

"Aren't you going to . . . ahhhh . . . hook up the blood?"

he asked, motioning towards Jack's motionless hand.

"That's nutrition and antibiotics, Daniel," Janet said

softly; the infirmary in general seemed to have fallen

quiet. "The new blood will be given into the subclavian

vein, just beneath his collar bone." She motioned to the

alien-looking machine. "The old blood will be removed by

this machine through the femoral artery in his thigh.

Since I figured the Colonel would want me to maintain his

level of modesty, I put the transfusion needles in place

before I called you all."

"I'm sure he appreciates it," Sam said, her voice just

slightly less steady than normal, although still a far cry

from being called 'unsteady'. Nobody but her best friends

would have noticed at all.

"Okay, here we go," Janet said, flipping a switch on the

machine. Immediately, the tube that they now saw led

beneath the blanket turned from clear to red. Blood red.

She only let it run a minute or so before she opened the

flow of the new blood. Stepping back, she put her hands on

her hips.

"That's all we can do for now. This could take a few

hours, so I suggest you all get some rest and come back

later. By then, we might have an idea of how this is

working."

"Would you join me for lunch, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c

asked, to which the archeologist nodded his agreement.

Neither man included Sam in their invitation, but she

didn't seem to mind.

Her teammates gone, and Janet settled into her office, Sam

took the only chair beside the Colonel's bed. Studying his

long, elegant fingers, she felt the almost overwhelming

desire to take them into her hands, but knew she dare not.

Within an hour, however, the lack of sleep was catching up

to her, and keeping her eyes focused was becoming

difficult. Nobody could blame her for catching forty

winks, she thought to herself as she slowly lowered her

forehead to rest on the mattress below O'Neill's hand. If

he moved, she told herself, she would know it.

She was not aware when Janet came twice more to switch full

blood packets for empty ones, nor when Daniel and Teal'c

returned to the beside vigil. They didn't have the heart

to wake her.

"Should we not move her somewhere more comfortable?" Teal'c

questioned. "She would not need to leave the infirmary."

"Put her into the next bed?" Daniel tried to confirm.

"She'd never forgive us, I don't think."

"Indeed. Her feelings for O'Neill run strong."

"Tell me something I haven't figured out," Daniel grinned,

watching his friends sleep.

"How about buying a tired lady a cup of coffee, gentlemen?"

the whispered voice from behind them was warm, but tired.

"I thought you'd gone home long ago," the archeologist said

to Fraiser.

"I gave it all due consideration," she said.

"But Cassie . . ."

"She's on a class camp out for a few days yet." She drew

closer to the bed, studying her patient. "And I didn't

want to leave until he'd gotten his last unit."

"What is O'Neill's condition?" Teal'c asked, standing

beside her.

"He seems to be doing much better. His last temperature

reading is just slightly above normal, but the blood test

results won't be back for another forty-five minutes or

so."

"You look like you need that coffee while we wait," Daniel

suggested, taking her by the arm. "How about if you let us

keep you company?"

"Best offer I've had all day," she smiled gently.

SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1

The last packet of blood had drained and a nurse had

silently disposed of it. All the remaining medical

equipment had been cleared away, except for the ever-

present IV of antibiotics.

But the most astounding difference since she'd fallen

asleep, Sam Carter noted, what the Colonel's color. No

longer pale and wan, his cheeks held a healthy, not a

feverous, pink and his breathing was steady and even.

She wondered how long she'd been asleep, but decided that

it couldn't have been long. No way would Janet have

allowed her to spend more than an hour asleep in a chair,

no matter how much she needed to.

And it was no longer a matter of <wanting> to be beside

him, but needing it. At least, at times like this. When

he needed protecting, and overseeing. When she couldn't

truly trust him to anybody else except for her teammates

and Janet.

"Penny for your thoughts," came a familiar voice, weak yet

warm.

She smiled at him, watching as he tried to return it.

"Just thinking what some people won't do to get out of a

post-mission debriefing."

His eyes captured hers, deadly serious. "Jacob?"

"He's fine, Colonel. Completely back to normal, thanks to

Selmac."

Studying all the tubes and wires critically, he asked,

"this is a little extreme for a burnt leg, isn't it,

Carter?"

"Let's just say that there were some . . . extenuating

circumstances this time."

He looked at her questioningly.

"We almost lost you, Sir."

"Did I forget to tell you about the new SG1 motto, Major?"

Jack asked, a sparkle in his drooping eyes, just as Daniel

and Teal'c joined them.

"We have a motto?" Daniel asked with a smirk.

"Yes, Daniel. As of right now."

"And what will this 'motto' be, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked.

Sam knew that this was going to be good, and schooled

herself not to laugh.

"Almost only counts with ascended beings and Jaffa

grenades."

The End