PART FOUR "Questions and Lies"
Jack couldn�t be sure if it was the emptiness of the bed or the muted sound of the klaxon that pulled him from his fitful slumber. Rolling over he felt the sheets and frowned.
They were ice cold.
She was gone.
When had she left?
The why of her absence sent chills through his body. He lay back with a groan of dismay and covered his face with clammy fingers.
I used her. I used Sam!
The very thought made him nauseous. He swallowed the bitter taste of bile and forced himself to sit up. The world spun and settled into place as he took several deep breaths. A sharp rap on the door sent his heart into his throat and he nearly bit his tongue in half to suppress a string of expletives. �What!�
�I�m sorry to disturb you, Sir. Dr McKenzie is asking to see you.�
�Oh,� his reply was too soft for the guard to hear. Fighting the sinking feeling in his hollow gut, Jack tried again. �Tell him I will be there in five.�
�Yes, Sir.�
He fumbled with his discarded clothing, stifling a curse as his shoes slipped from his sweaty grasp and tumbled across the floor. His heart was beating in time to the dull howl of the klaxon. Intuition telling him to hurry as he shoved rubbery legs into his pants. Not bothering to buckle his belt Jack forced his feet into his laced boots and wrenched open the door.
Personnel were running through the hallways. A disconcerting sight since the Gateroom was several floors below. Jack turned his attention to the Airman who was watching him anxiously and trying not to show it. �What�s the emergency?�
�I�m sorry, Sir. I have strict orders to accompany you to Doctor McKenzie�s office. I don�t know the situation downstairs.�
Yeah, right, Jack thought sourly. �We�re going to take a detour, Airman.�
�Sir?�
He didn�t bother to reply. Turning away Jack strode down the corridor, cinching his belt as he walked. The muted rumble of running feet urged his sore muscles to a faster pace, forcing the shorter guard into a trot to catch up.
�Sir?�
The Airman confronted him at the elevator. He was obviously uncomfortable with even the idea of going against the wishes of a superior. Jack felt for him, but instinct was working against them both. He favored the younger man with a faint sympathetic smile and stepped past his restraining arm into the surprisingly empty car. �You coming?�
Nodding reluctantly, the guard joined him.
Now that they were stationary, Jack�s temporary burst of energy faded abruptly. He felt the color drain from his cheeks, only sheer force of will kept him from sagging to the floor. He swallowed hard and shook his head against a wave of dizziness. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Airman looking uncertainly at the floor, his small chin quivering slightly as his jaw muscles worked. Grateful that his discomfort had gone temporarily unnoticed Jack took the opportunity to lean heavily against the wall. He breathed through the sudden nausea, but couldn�t stifle the low moan that escaped his dry lips. The younger man chose that moment to look up, blanching chalk white as he noted Jack�s pallid appearance.
�Sir?�
�I�m alright!� he snapped, waving off the cautious hand that hovered at his elbow.
�With all due respect, Sir��
Jack forced himself to straighten. The world dimmed and he took several deep breaths, launching himself through the opening doors and out into the chaos of Level 28. Guards in full battle dress were moving rapidly through the corridor. Focused on their tasks, they ignored Jack and he was forced to flatten himself to the wall as shields and armaments were shuffled past in controlled haste.
When the latest wave of soldiers and equipment had passed, Jack pushed away from the wall. Gesturing to his companion, he picked up the pace until he was jogging down the hallway. He took the stairs two at a time and was breathless when he reached the top. The airman following close behind caught his elbow and steadied him on the landing. He did not speak, but stayed close as Jack rounded the corner and entered the managed chaos of the Control Room.
The room was alight with the watery glow of the Stargate and the flicker of dozens of monitors. Voices snapped curt orders as people moved efficiently within the cramped space. There was an undercurrent of sound issuing from equipment and speakers carrying information to all levels of the facility. Jack pressed himself close to the back wall. Suddenly unsure if being here were the wisest choice he could have made.
General Hammond was leaning over Sam�s shoulder staring worriedly at her screen. As Jack watched, he straightened slightly listening to the speakers in the wall.
�This is Lieutenant Colonel Griffin! We�re under attack, request you send back up immediately. General, do you read!�
Karen Griffin�s frantic voice filled the control room, temporarily silencing the personnel therein. Jack licked his dry lips. He could sense her panic, suppressed as she made fear work to her advantage. He had always liked the tall brunette with bright, blue eyes and a ready grin. A rare combination of brains and femininity, Karen was a capable soldier who knew how to handle herself. As well as a woman who realized her effect on the opposite sex and wasn�t afraid to use it to her advantage. He admired her self-confidence and in another time and place before Sara, the SGC, or Sam he had known her as a woman first and foremost. Now, she was scared and Jack cursed quietly beneath his breath. Losing her would be more than detrimental to the SGC, it would be a personal loss as well. He could barely control the tremors that wracked his body and coated his skin with fresh cold sweat.
�We read you, Colonel. SG teams three and six are prepared to render assistance.� Hammond paused, gripping the microphone with chalk white fingers. No one breathed as static filled the speakers. �Lieutenant. Colonel Griffin, do you copy?�
�Send�reinforcements�.� came the breathless reply.
Jack released a shuddering breath and felt the Airman move closer to his side.
�Sir?� the younger man whispered quietly. �Sir, have a seat.� He pushed a chair under Jack�s sagging frame.
Hearing the Airman, General Hammond spun on his heel. Jack ran a hand across his clammy neck as his superior crossed the short space between them. Hammond was looking anxiously from the wide window overlooking the Gateroom to Jack�s pale face. �Colonel, what are you doing here?�
�Sir?� he looked up, Karen Griffin�s frightened voice still echoing in his head,
�Are you alright?�
He stifled a sharp retort at the all too familiar question.
�General Hammond, Sir?�
The older man turned away to address the SG-3 team leader. Jack let his head rest against the wall. He could see Sam half hidden by the General�s stocky frame. She glanced over her shoulder at him. Too caught up in events to give him more than a fleeting once over with dark worried eyes. He offered her a pale smile and closed his eyes against the wave of dizziness that dimmed his vision to a mere pinprick, filled with the watery glow of the Gate.
Karen Griffin was in trouble. A sharp ache filled him, constricting his throat until he had to cough to breathe. Her predicament wasn�t his fault, not everything was tied to his failing. It was a sane, rational argument that held no weight in the current crisis.
Jack rocked his head against the unyielding concrete, resisting the urge to pound his fist into the wall with effort. Karen wasn�t Sam, she hadn�t been his to worry about for 20 years. A part of his past that he happily revisited over coffee in the commissary, but that was as far as either of them wished to take it. She had moved on, married and divorced twice. An accomplished officer who had been recruited into the Stargate program because she had proved that she could handle combat situations in Iraq and Bosnia. She had earned her place and he admired her for that as well. She didn�t need a protector, certainly not him.
Jack slowly opened his eyes and watched as Hammond dismissed the Team leader and went back to stand behind Sam. The Stargate had sputtered closed moments earlier, and now the General was addressing the NCO seated to his right in clipped tones heavy with concern. �Sergeant, dial it up. We�re sending in the cavalry.�
�Dialing, Sir.�
Above Sam�s head Jack could glimpse the top of the Gate. It began to spin, slowly locking each Chevron in with a grumble and a clank accompanied by Davis� crisp confirmations. Steam hissed and filled the air with fitful puffs, until it obscured the ceiling in pale bluish haze. The wormhole�s frothy wave appeared at the bottom edge of the window and Hammond leaned towards the microphone again.
�SG units three and six you have a go. This mission is search and rescue. You will face heavy resistance the moment you step through the Gate. Be prepared, bring them home and God go with you.�
�We�re ready General.� The response filtered back through the speakers followed shortly by the command to move out. Jack rose shakily to his feet in time to see the last of the soldiers disappear. The Gate disengaged with a crackling pop.
�Sir?� The Airman was prodding him gently, his small hand warm on Jack�s elbow.
�Yeah, in a sec,� he whispered. His legs were weak and stiff as he crossed to the General�s side. Sam glanced up and briefly met his eyes. She was upset and obviously feeling guilty, though she had no right to be. He wanted to reassure her, but now was not the time. It was all he could do to straighten his hunched shoulders as he addressed the General.
�Sir?�
�Jack, you shouldn�t be here.�
�I know that, Sir. Reflex I guess. I heard the klaxons��
�Dr. Frasier should have issued you earplugs,� Hammond quipped irritably.
Jack felt a smile tug at his pale lips at the older man�s weak attempt at levity. �Yes, Sir.� He stifled a sigh and looked down at the flickering monitors. �Where are they?�
Hammond drew a deep breath and locked gazes with him. �They�re on P2Z-421�
The world spun away from Jack with sickening speed. He heard someone gasp as his vision blurred and dimmed to darkness. Hands clutched his clothing and arms supported his back as he sank to the metal floor. The murmur of the control room died beneath the pounding of his heart.
Jack awoke with a start.
He had dreamed again. The details fled into the dark corners of the room as he groaned and rolled away from the light that seeped beneath the door. He reached for the peace of sleep, but his mind was filled with images, sensations, and emotions. Forcing him to wakefulness in spite of his vehement protests.
After several minutes spent jumping at the least little sound, Jack sat up. Grimacing he rubbed the chill from his arms, trying to ignore the cold sweat that broke across his brow.
In the two days since his impromptu visit to the control room there had been no word from Karen Griffin, or SG Teams Three and Six. Hammond was unwilling to commit further resources to a rescue effort and despite his personal pain Jack was forced to agree.
Sound military judgment did little to assuage his guilt. The general would not discuss the reasons why Griffin had taken her team to P2Z-421, so he was left with the gnawing suspicion that the mission was connected to his capture. To add insult to injury, Sam was avoiding him like an errant disease. He hadn�t seen her since the medical team descended like a murder of white crows on the Control room and wheeled him out to the sound of his own weak, but vehement protests.
He had used her and now she wanted no part of him.
Her rejection was just another brick in the wall that Jack found himself gradually rebuilding in defense of his bruised psyche. He couldn�t seek her out, wouldn�t, because her absence spoke more eloquently than words. Inner revulsion painted the memory of their heated tryst with shades of gray and black, ashy and surreal.
It would have been easier to think about Griffin and the unexplained absences of Daniel, Jonas and Teal�c if he had never slept with Sam. But it was not an option.
The fact that he was putting any effort into turning the event into a non-issue worried Jack. He had been given a respite from Dr. McKenzie and his endless, patient questions, due to his collapse and the fresh lump on his hard head. However, a part of him wanted to talk to the psychiatrist, and that unnerved him even more than the tangible mysteries that surrounded P2Z-421. He had never willingly sought professional psychiatric help, even when he needed it. After more soul searching than he cared to admit, Jack had determined that his experiences in the Iraqi prison had been the beginning of his initial unraveling, Charlie�s death the final straw. He had come back from the brink only when he discovered the people of Abydos and along with them a reason to fight for something greater than himself.
Eight years had passed since this epiphany of the senses. His mind had run the gauntlet of the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Jack had lived two distinct lifetimes, more, if one were to count the countless sessions in Baal�s sarcophagus. A forced psychiatric evaluation after his escape from the sadistic System Lord hadn�t provided him with any real closure. His return to active duty had been probationary for several months, an annoying, but necessary precaution. This latest incident had reopened the old scars and provided fresh, new fears for him to contemplate. McKenzie would tell him that being aware of his vulnerabilities and willing to reach out was healthy, a good solid first step.
Jack wasn�t so sure.
He swallowed hard and climbed to his feet. Being so self absorbed was a new and uncomfortable sensation. He couldn�t believe how long it had taken him to realize that aside from Sam he had not seen any of SG-1 for weeks. No one had to say the words, he knew they were on the planet. Guilt for their situation and fear for their safety left him feeling weak and empty. More mud for the wall.
Glancing at the bedside table he noted the time. The commissary would undoubtedly be empty at this hour. Coffee and a brisk walk would go a long way towards clearing the cobwebs from his foggy brain. He rubbed a hand across the still tender knot on the back of his head and reached for his discarded pants. Janet had reluctantly released him back to private quarters with firm orders that he was never to go anywhere alone, under threat of sedation. She was the queen of her particular hill and he could respect that. Seeing her dark brown eyes flashing hotly with irritation and her petite frame quivering slightly with the force of her words brought a wry grimace to his lips. Janet�s attitude was fueled by concern and friendship, even if it did irritate him.
He finished getting dressed and stepped into the quiet hallway. �Sergeant.�
�Sir,� Shaffer acknowledged quietly. �Going for a walk?�
�Yeah, commissary, Join me in a cup of coffee?�
She shook her head, offering him a pale smile. �No thanks on the coffee. I�m going off duty in an hour and a half, I need to be able to sleep.�
�Good point,� Jack murmured enviously.
They walked silently down the corridor to the elevator. A shy cadet with buckteeth shared the car for most of the ride, disembarking one level up from the Commissary. Arriving at their destination, Jack gathered Shaffer up with a wave of his hand and they entered the empty room. The clang of pans and the murmur of voices could be heard from the kitchen beyond the double doors. Jack paused by the coffee urns and drew a cup for himself. Shaffer nodded towards a nearby table and waved her clipboard meaningfully.
�Sir, I�m going to file my report, give you some privacy.�
�Thank you, Airman.�
She nodded a second time. �Give a shout if you need anything.�
�I will.�
Jack turned away and crossed to a corner table. The same table he had shared with Carter weeks earlier, he noted as he sank into the closest chair. He sipped his coffee, flinching as it burned his throat. She had tried to talk to him then and he had rejected her. The conversation that died between them had been the precursor to their fevered encounter hours later. It was ironic how rejection had lead to passion. A connection that was exhausting to contemplate in the light of too little sleep and too much time on his hands.
�Airman.�
Startled, Jack spun in his seat. Carter was standing hesitantly in the doorway, speaking softly to Shaffer. Her eyes found his and held his gaze for a long moment. Breaking contact, she smiled distractedly at the Sergeant and moved to the coffee urns. He watched as she prepared her cup and grabbed a carrot muffin from a shelf above the counter. She glanced in his direction and Jack forced a stiff nod of invitation.
Sam sighed through pursed lips and crossed the space between them. Settling into the same chair she had used during their last conversation. Jack winced at the similarity. Things would go better this time, he vowed silently.
�So?� She sipped her coffee letting her soft gaze wander across his face. �You look better than the last time I saw you.�
Jack looked down, an embarrassed flush warming his cheeks. �Yeah. I imagine lying in a heap on the Control Room floor didn�t paint a very pretty picture.�
�Do you feel better?�
�A bit,� he admitted.
�Bite?� she offered. He nodded and she nudged the plate to the middle of the table with her pinky.
�Carter, what have you heard?�
The question brought a guarded look to her pale features. She chewed and swallowed loudly, chasing the dry muffin down with a hasty swallow of coffee. �Sir?�
�Don�t play games.� Jack snapped. Things were already going badly, but he couldn�t help the urgency in his voice. She would have to understand. �I�ve known Karen Griffin for 20 years and I know Major Grant is a friend of yours. What�s going on?� He shook his head as she dropped her gaze to the table. �Carter�Sam� Where are Teal�c, Jonas, and Daniel?�
She gasped softly riveting her gaze to the tabletop. �They�re on the planet.�
�I know that, but why,� he pressed. Her face had gone pale with the effort to hide what she knew. Jack shook his head and reached out to lay tentative fingers on her bare arm. She shuddered and his heart quickened its already frantic pace. �What? For Christ sakes, Carter, tell me! I have a right to know!�
�But I don�t have the right to tell you,� she replied softly as she slid her arm free.
�You�ve been avoiding me lately?� He hated the way Sam closed her eyes and tilted her head, clearly distressed by his blunt and ultimately selfish question.
�Yes�� The word was low and drawn out, as if she wanted to say more but didn�t dare.
Jack broke off a piece of the muffin and chewed it mechanically. Now for the million dollar question, he thought grimly. �Is it because of what happened between us?�
Sam sipped her coffee, keeping her tense gaze focused on a spot on the wall just above his left shoulder. He fidgeted, trying to hide his impatience by draining the last of his coffee and going for a refill. The rapid movement and sudden change in his equilibrium set the world on edge. He swallowed hard and tried to ignore the flash of concern on her pale features as he sat down heavily in the chair. Coffee sloshed across his wrist, scalding the tender skin. �Damn!�
�Are you�?�
He looked up and her hand froze in mid air, halfway across the table. �I�m fine. Answer me.� he whispered raggedly.
�In part.�
�In part?�
�Yes. I didn�t�I wasn�t, expecting that.�
�Neither was I.� It was the truth. Unfortunately expectations rarely dictated the final outcome of a given situation. Their intimacy was no exception. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, that he loathed himself for using her to satisfy his feelings of inadequacy. But it was her strength and vulnerability that had driven him over the edge in the first place. How could he explain his actions without her feeling the guilt that he deserved? The words stuck in his throat, turning his mouth as arid as the sands of Abydos.
The wail of the klaxons and the subdued rumble of the Stargate sent a shudder through Jack. He looked up to find that Sam was halfway across the commissary. She stopped and whispered in Shaffer�s ear. The Airman looked over her shoulder with a deep frown as Sam disappeared through the open door. Jack felt something cold settle into the pit of his stomach as he pushed to his feet. The Sergeant met him just inside the threshold and slowly shook her head.
�I�m sorry, Sir.�
�Airman,� he growled, resolving in his chilled gut that no one was going to prevent him from confronting whatever the Wormhole disgorged.
�Sir, I can�t. Dr. Frasier�s orders.�
�Dr. Frasier?� he blinked incredulous. �Airman, get out of my way.�
�No, Sir.� The Sergeant stood her ground. Her eyes were obsidian black and her arm hovered warningly above her sidearm. �We cannot go to the Gateroom, Sir.�
�Airman I may not be in uniform, but you and I both know I outrank you��
�Not in medical matters, Sir.� She reminded him with a trace of sympathy tingeing her voice. �I�m sorry. Major Carter reminded me that Dr. Frasier will file a formal reprimand on the record of anyone assigned to you, if we allow you within a floor of the Gateroom.�
The measures were extreme and brought Jack up short. His medical situation was apparently more serious than he had been willing to admit. The Airman was watching him with a determined look on her dark features. She was taking the orders seriously. As her superior he was obligated to do the same, outrage not withstanding.
�Well, we can�t have that, can we?� he whispered bitterly. Taking a deep breath Jack stepped backwards and gestured to her to stand down. �I�m going back to my room.�
The Sergeant did not relax until they were in the elevator and he had pushed the correct button for his floor. Her relief was standing outside the door to his quarters when they arrived. The two younger officers exchanged knowing looks. Jack bit his tongue, resisting the urge to chastise them. Staring down a superior officer, whether under orders or not, took guts. Shaffer had to be commended. �Chalk one up for the little dictator,� he groused thinking of Janet.
�Sir?�
They spoke in unison and Jack winced. �Never mind, I�m going to lay down Airman.� He shut the door on their confused expressions and crossed to the chair in the corner of the room. Sinking into the soft cushions Jack raised his eyes to the ceiling, staring sightlessly at the square panels until the edges blurred.
He wanted to be angry with Janet, or Hammond, or anyone else that seemed to be working against him. Instead, he found himself incapable of feeling anything but grief and confusion. He looked longingly at the rumpled bed. There was no point in trying to sleep. His stomach was rolling with the tension that filled his body. He swallowed the vague nausea and picked up a discarded report from the floor.
The words would not form into coherent sentences and Jack eventually threw the folder across the room. Papers fluttered free and drifted slowly to the concrete. He turned away from the mess and picked up a deck of cards, shuffling them absently before spreading them out on the table next to him in a game of solitaire. For a few brief moments he was able to distract his anxious mind. Red four on black five, black queen on red king... He lost the game and started a new one, grumbling in disgust when he was stymied after three moves.
During his third shuffling session the Klaxon fell silent. He stared at the closed door and the shadow of the guard filling the crack underneath. It wouldn�t be fair to force the issue with the young man. Jack shook his head and rose to pace the room. Footsteps echoed through the hallway, words were occasionally exchanged between the Airman and a passerby. Jack continued to pace, not daring to approach the door. Afraid of what he might say or do to satisfy the intense curiosity and fear growing inside him.
The sharp rap of knuckles made him gasp with surprise. He coughed reflexively and reached the door in two quick strides.
Karen Griffin stood in the bright hallway. Her hair was filled with mud and mottled crimson and gray streaks covered one cheek. Her camouflaged BDUs were torn at the shoulder exposing a nasty burn surrounded by tattered flesh. Jack had never seen her so shaken. He grasped her uninjured arm and pulled her into the room. Kicking the door closed behind him, he guided her to the chair and nudged her into it. �What the hell happened?�
Jack went to the pitcher by his bedside and poured her a glass of water, wishing he had ice as he passed it to her.
Karen took several deep breaths, the color slowly returning to her pallid cheeks. She accepted the proffered glass with bloodied fingers and downed it without comment. After a long moment she dragged her eyes up from the floor and locked gazes with him. Jack felt his heart settle into his boots at the raw guilt and sadness mirrored in their blue depths. �I lost one of your kids, Jack.�
�Lost?� the word nearly strangled in his throat. �What do you mean lost?�
�He�s still back there on that goddamn rock,� she whispered bitterly.
�Dead?� Jack murmured. Suddenly it was too hot to breath let alone speak. He spun away from her battered form and sat down heavily on the end of the bed.
�I don�t know,� she admitted with a heavy sigh. �He was alive when they captured him.�
�They?� Oh God!
�Creatures�I�ve never seen anything like them. Kind of tall��
�Black and Gray, glowing emerald eyes��
�Yeah, but not Goa�uld, at least I don�t think so.� Karen pushed a hand through her hair and coughed thickly. �The same ones that held you?�
�No doubt,� he quipped. The world had narrowed to a single pinpoint of crimson light that pulsed with every beat of his racing heart. �Who,� he managed.
�Jonas Quinn.�
Jack clenched his fists until the bones felt as though they would splinter with the strain. The Kelownan had learned much in his two years with the SGC and had experienced things that Jack had no hope of understanding. But nothing could prepare him for the mind destroying futility of the Tower Cell. Jonas was an optimist who sought the good in all beings, and loved to learn and grow simply for the sake of it. Qualities that the creatures would tear asunder with days or weeks of endless pointless abuse. He would not survive, Jack had no doubt of it.
�Karen, are you sure he was alive?�
Griffin nodded sagely, understanding his implied reasoning. �I�m afraid so, Jack. I�m sorry.�
�Don�t be,� he reassured. �I�m sure you did everything you could.�
�Honest to God, if there had been another way�� her voice trailed away into the heavy silence that seemed to suck the air from the room.
�Daniel, Teal�c?� He asked in a pointed attempt to force her to focus on the positive side, if there was one.
�Teal�c was hit with something like a cattle prod. Left a nasty burn on his back, cooked the material right into the flesh�� Karen shook her head and offered him the empty glass. He filled it without hesitation and handed it back to her. �He�s a tough bird, I�ll give him that.�
�Daniel?� Jack prodded, unable to keep the anxiety from coloring his voice.
She nodded quickly. �Yes, he�s okay. One of the creatures grabbed him but he slipped out of his jacket, leveled the guy with a roundhouse to the jaw.� Karen smirked. �I think he busted a finger in the process. He�s also got some nasty burns on the backs of his legs. He�ll pull through.�
Jack allowed himself a small, tense smile. �I guess he was paying attention.�
�Huh?�
�Nothing.� He shrugged at the memory of Daniel and himself dancing around the gymnasium several floors below. The sessions had become a weekly event, as missions allowed. Jack looked forward to the sparring as a chance for them to vent their frustrations. Instead of sniping at one another as they had done in the past, they boxed, sometimes with great intensity. There had been an easing of tension and an overall improvement on how they related to one another as friends and teammates. He was pleased that the additional training had been useful and ultimately saddened at its necessity.
�Jack?�
Karen�s soft address drew him back to the present. �What about your team?� he asked gently.
She flinched and looked away. �I lost one man, Sergeant Gray, nice young kid from Ohio.� Covering her face she drew in a shaky breath. �Never gets any easier does it?�
�No, � he agreed, unable to offer more than a soldier�s comfort for her evident grief.
Her hands dropped into her lap with a muffled slap and she rose to her feet. �I have to get down to the Infirmary, the good doctor is expecting me.�
�Karen, what were you doing there?�
She paused, licking her lips and looking at the floor and then the closed door, clearly uneasy with his question.
Jack muttered an oath and grabbed her arm as she turned to leave. �Why, dammit?�
�I can�t tell you,� she murmured as she finally met his probing stare. �I wish I could, but I�ve been ordered not to.�
�By whom?� he demanded hotly. She struggled and he tightened his grip. �What is everyone hiding from me?�
Continued in Part Five Revelations
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