By BadgerGater

E-mail: [email protected]

Category: Drama; Missing scene, episode Legacy

Summary: What was going on in Jack's head as he slowly went NUTS in Legacy.

Season: Three

Spoilers: Legacy, and any episode before it

Rating: PG, language, it is Jack, after all

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions; all the powers that be, not me; This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement intended. The story is the property of the author and may not be posted elsewhere without the author's consent.

Author’s note: Okay, so I wouldn't at all mind being locked in a room with the good Colonel (ah, yes, fantasy time). But nope, I wouldn't want to be locked into a room with the slowly going nuts version of the Colonel-- scary thought, don't ya' think?

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"I'd like to apologize in advance for anything I may say or do that could be

construed as offensive as I slowly go NUTS." Jack O'Neill, Legacy

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I watch in horror as three of those little Machello-created 'things' scurried across my hand and burrowed up my arm.

Not again.

So no, this doesn't compare with having a real, live, foot long, genuine Goa'uld snake carve its way into the back of your neck, but the truth is, it's way too close for comfort.

I don't like having company inside my own head. Not big, not little. Not one unwelcome guest, or three, or dozens. I've had a Goa'uld in here and it was Hell. Those parasite things from the orb killed me. And the Ancients weren't exactly great companions either.

I like being my own boss.

So I'm a control freak, okay? I've never pretended to be perfect.

Aliens. If they aren't poking me full of holes, they're crowding into my head.

Why can't they just stay the hell out!!!

Keep calm, Jack, keep calm.

That's hard to do, when the memories are so fresh in my mind, of what just one of those little things had done to Daniel's brain. Brilliant Daniel, reduced to that.... Oh God, that was painful, seeing him like that.

Actually, I've been way too close to being assigned to one of those little padded rooms myself, after Iraq and after Charlie died. I shuddered.

Don't go there, Jack.

That's the idea.

I look around the room. It's only been a few minutes since those things escaped into us. Janet is already looking a little 'uncomfortable,' to say the least. Sam looks stunned. I don't think my face looks too pleasant, either, at the moment.

Oh God, I am locked into this little room with two women, two women I care about very much, my friends, and if I really do go crazy, and the likelihood of that is getting greater with every passing second, I could hurt them. Hurt them bad. Hell, with my special ops training, I know at least a couple dozen ways to kill a person with my bare hands. Even another combat trained soldier of equal size and strength.

Keep it together, Jack.

"I'd like to apologize in advance for anything I may say or do that could be construed as offensive as I slowly go NUTS." I tell them.

Offensive, where did that line come from? Offensive wasn't the half of it. Offensive, defensive, expensive, extensive, excessive, regressive, obsessive-- whoa, whoa, stop Jack, stop it now.

I back away from the two women, look around for a place to hide, somewhere I can get away so I won't embarrass me or, God forbid, hurt them.

I suddenly find myself sinking to the floor. It seems a better place to be, than standing up.

Carter turns to say something to me, and her eyes flash. Gould? No Jack, it's an illusion. Remember, Daniel thought he was seeing a Gould larvae crawling on you, going into you. It's those things in your head, making you see things.

Who was that? Voices, there are voices in my head, little voices. Oh shit. Don't listen, Jack, don't listen to them.

No. This was like a bad, bad drug trip. Okay, so I'd sampled a few recreational chemicals back there in my wild, pre-Air Force 1970s youth. Who hadn't, back then, huh?

"You're not seeing or hearing any of this stuff?" I ask.

Colors, voices, snakes crawling across the room, the Linvris corpses peaking in the windows. At some point deep inside my brain, I know they aren't really there but what my eyes are 'seeing' and my ears are 'hearing' is rapidly overwhelming what the rational part of my brain is telling me. What little rational part is left.

Focus, Jack, focus.

I try to follow the conversations going on around me. There's Carter talking to Doc, and the General and Daniel speaking to one another, but they are so hard to hear, over all the noise in my head.

Why am I on the floor? I don't remember getting on the floor, and I start to get up. No Jack, stay put, stay here, over in this corner, away from them. There's safety in distance, for them.

I concentrate on staying within myself. Maybe that would be best. The last thing I want to do is hurt one of them, and oh God, it would be so easy to do.

No, not Gould. Not. Not. Not. Not. Not. Not. Not.

Please God, don't let me hurt them.

Turn the anger inward. They're not the enemy. The enemy is inside, inside me.

I curl myself into a ball, fist hammering on my thigh, the other hand cradled around my head. I watch this amazing show inside my head, like television, bad out-of-focus television, rippling colors and voices from nowhere.

Don't look at your friends, don't tempt those demons inside you.

Nooo!

I'm curled up on the floor, facing the cabinets. Don't look at Sam or Janet or Daniel or General Hammond. George. His name is George; George, George, George of the Jungle. Don't giggle, Jack, that's not what a Colonel should do.

Find something else to think about. One plus one equals two, two plus two equals four, four plus four equals eight, eight, ate, who ate the plate, Nate?

A hand touches my shoulder, and I roll onto my back, looking up at Carter's face, but it looks out of focus. "You look terrible." Oh God, I didn't actually say it out loud, did I? Oh no. I didn't mean to.

"Thank you, Sir. I need to give you a shot. Will you let me do that?"

I feel the needle enter my shoulder, a burning sensation, and then...Pain in my head. And Machello's voice, telling me the Gould is gone. Of course it's gone, it's been gone now for weeks...

I feel something, leaking, out of my ear, turn to see three little globs on the floor near my head. Yech. I pick one up, look at it, drop it with a shiver. Nasty little beggars.

Around me, everybody's smiling. Things must be okay. I make a quick assessment, I seem okay. No more little voices, no more weird visions, no shimmering colors or shadowy figures or slithering Gould snakes.

Good.

God, I'm tired. I need an aspirin, a shower and some sleep.

Wait, whatever they did to fix me and Janet, would it fix Teal'c too? Maybe later somebody will explain it to me. Janet and Sam are already discussing it. "Come on," and we head down the corridor to the infirmary.

"Daniel," I ask softly as we walk.

"Yeah? You okay Jack?"

I nod yes. "I, uh, didn't say or do anything, back there," I wave my hand behind me," did I?"

"Nah, you spent the whole time curled up on the floor."

"Ah, good."

"Except for insulting Sam."

My face gets a little red. I do sort of remember that.

Daniel pats my shoulder. "Don't worry. I don't think she took it too seriously. You were a little out of your head at the time."

I nod. Just being Jack the Neanderthal.

At the infirmary, amidst the explanations of how Fraiser and Carter had teamed up to save us (while I was lying helplessly on the floor. Way to go, Jack. Some help you are.), they inject Teal'c with that same substance that worked on the rest of us. It works on him, too, and that little Machello critter leaks out of his ear.

I find a chair and, sighing, sit down. Teal'c is okay and Daniel is okay, Sam and Doc are okay. I think even I'm okay. Suddenly, I'm very, very tired. It has been a bad couple days, watching my friends like that, one going crazy, one dying.

If I'd lost them, too, I don't know what I'd have done.

Gone crazy, I suppose.

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