Doubletake

By BadgerGater

Season: 7

Episode: After Fragile Balance

Spoilers: Eps dealing with the Asgaard

Sequel: Refers to my previous fic Faith and Brotherhood, but does stand alone

Category: Action/Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Pairing: None

Summary: Jack and his brother discover they have something in common

Rating: PG

Warnings: Kleenex needed.

Disclaimer: Don't own Jack, Thor, Carter, Daniel, Teal'c, the General, but I did invent Joe, so yup, he’s mine! Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of SciFi Channel, 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 without the author's consent.

Author's Note: A guest appearance by my original character Father Joe... please remember, Father Joe is a character created by me, Badgergater, and may not be used elsewhere without my consent.

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I swear, he sounded scared.

I’ve never heard that in his voice.

Ever.

He doesn’t scare easy.

We’re a lot alike, Joe and I, confident adults, wrapped up in our careers that are more than just jobs, but consume our whole lives.

“I really need to talk to you,” Joe said. “It’s important.”

I knew it would be, or he wouldn’t be calling. We’re brothers, and while he’s more of a talker than I am, a lot more, we don’t spend much time together. Blame it on living half a continent apart. Blame it on our wildly disparate jobs. Blame it on life, but that’s the way it was.

My mind raced. I was, of course, busy. It’s almost impossible for me to get away from the mountain these days, what with what’s been going on off-world. But this was my brother, and from his tone of voice, I knew something was really wrong. Priests are supposed to help others, not look for help for themselves.

So I knew it was important.

“Okay. When? Where?”

“Well, actually, I’m at the airport.”

“O’Hare?”

“No, I’m in Colorado Springs. I could catch a cab to your place…”

“No.” I hadn’t had dinner. Hadn’t had lunch, either, but… “I can get away for supper. I’ll pick you up. Half an hour? In front of the terminal?”

“Yes. And Jack, thanks.”

“Anytime, brother.” I hung up the phone and headed for the General’s office. I knocked politely at his open door, and stuck my head in when he answered “Come in.”

“Sir?”

He looked up from his paperwork, eyes narrowed. “Jack?”

“I need a few hours off the base, General,” I came right out and asked.

He shot me an inquiring look.

“Personal business, Sir.” I didn’t want to explain more. Couldn’t, really, since I didn’t know what was bothering Joe.

“You’re due to take your team to P4C-607 in the morning, Colonel.”

“I know, Sir, but this is important.”

He looked at me, a look I knew meant he wanted more information, information I didn’t have. After a moment, Hammond sighed. “I know, Jack, you rarely ask for time off, and you rarely get it. Take the rest of the afternoon. It’s the best that I can do.”

“It’s enough, Sir,” or so I hoped.

Vainly, as it turned out, but how was I to know?

He was waiting outside the air terminal’s front door, his coat turned up against the chill wind sweeping in off the mountains. I pulled the big Ford pick-up to the curb and waved, and he stepped toward me. It’s never hard to recognize my brother, even when we haven’t seen each other for months, in this case many months. Looking at him is pretty much like looking at myself in the mirror every morning.

I long ago lost count of how many times we’ve been mistaken for twins.

Provided we’re in civilian clothes.

My BDUs and his priestly collar are pretty easily distinguished.

He tossed a small leather carry-on bag into the extended cab and climbed into the pick-up’s passenger seat. Joe’s a bare year younger than me, a little less gray, a lot fewer squint lines around his eyes; a lot less suspicion in his eyes, a lot less of a burden on his soul.

Looking at him made me suddenly realize that the last year had been hard on me, a realization I saw mirrored in his face as he looked over at me.

“Hi.” Yeah, I know, I’m a great conversationalist.

“Thanks for this,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime.”

“It’s been a long time.”

I struggled to remember the last time we’d seen each other. Two years almost, since that surprise meeting up at the cabin, when he’d been upset about the priestly scandals. God, this wasn’t more about that, was it? He’d seemed pretty much at peace with himself when he left, after the long talk we’d had. I’d thought he was doing okay. We’d talked on the phone a few times since, just sort of the “hi, how are ya?” type of conversations, nothing deep, nothing important, just keeping in touch.

Silence settled in. There wasn’t much to talk about, there never was. I couldn’t talk about my work. What would I say, gee, well, since I saw you last, I’ve visited a couple dozen more alien planets, been snaked, was tortured to death by an expert, died a couple times, and got addicted to this nasty device called a sarcophagus, but don’t worry, I’m pretty much over it; got stranded for months on a remote moon with the slimy Harry Maybourne, found my previously ascended friend Daniel now un-ascended, saved the planet a couple more times, and, oh yeah, I’m in the midst of fighting an intergalactic war… So how’s your life going?

Then of course, there’s my real life, which for me consists of going home to an empty house. Wife is still divorced. Son is still dead. I’m still an ass. But, hey, I found a great new take-out place.

Stopped there, actually, on the way home, for Chinese.

It was dark by the time I pulled into my driveway.

I toted in the food while Joe brought his little suitcase.

“Stow your stuff down there,” I pointed down the hallway toward the spare bedroom. While Joe headed that way, I set the containers down on the dining room table. I finished setting the table by grabbing two beers from the fridge and a couple of plates from the cupboard, wiping away the dust with the sleeve of my shirt. I hadn’t been eating at home much lately.

By the time I was done, Joe was back, standing silently, looking around my house.

Unlike me, it’s a bad sign when Joe is quiet.

For two people who look so much alike, we don’t act it.

He talks, seriously, emotionally. I don’t.

Luck of the genetic draw I guess, he got Mom’s talk-about-it-to-make-it-better genes; I got Dad’s don’t-say-a-word-and-no-one-will-have-a-clue genes.

“Eat up,” I suggested.

We ate in continuing silence, the ticking of the clock loud in the house.

When we were done, he helped me carry the dirty plates and empty containers out to the kitchen.

Finally, we’d avoided whatever he’d come to talk about for long enough. I plucked two more beers from the refrigerator and headed for the living room, leaving the lights low. Darkness helps me talk, I know. Plopping myself down in the Lazy Boy across from where Joe sat on my sofa, I sipped my beer. “So, what’s up?” I asked to get the ball rolling.

He looked at me for the first time since I’d picked him up at the airport. “You look thin,” he said, at last.

Oh oh. That was a diversionary tactic I know well and use often; talk about someone else so you don’t have to talk about yourself. It’s not something Joe normally does.

“Been eating too much of my own cooking.”

He smiled thinly. “Yeah, I saw your refrigerator. Not much in there but beer.”

“There’s ketchup. And mustard. And probably some guacamole sauce,” I defended myself.

“Ah, yes, well, you always did assume ketchup was a vegetable…” his voice faded away.

“So something’s bothering you.” Okay, I’m not very tactful. Getting straight to the point is more my kind of thing, that’s why I’m the soldier and he’s the priest.

“Something…” he was staring down at his hands, his long fingers twisting around and around the neck of the beer bottle. Good thing it wasn’t alive, he’d have strangled it.

Just the kind of thing I did, when someone tried to make me talk.

Except, this was Joe, and, totally unlike me, he was normally damn good at talking.

“Something…” he raised his face a moment, his gaze sweeping across my face.

I shivered. He looked scared, just the way he’d sounded on the phone.

I softened my voice. “Just say it.”

“I…” he looked pleadingly at me, I think as stunned by our role reversal as I was. He’s the priest, the professional confidante, the one who normally encouraged others to reveal themselves to him.

Whatever was bothering him was really bothering him. “It’s not that sex scandal stuff again…” I suggested, to get him started.

Looking down, he shook his head. He took a slow sip of his beer.

Sheesh. What could it be? This was Joe, good, decent, godly Joe, whose soul was as filled with light as mine was weighed down with darkness. “Just say it.”

He took a deep breath, his gazed fixed on the suddenly fascinating earth-toned fibers of my living room rug. “Last week, I…” he jumped to his feet, pacing the room. “I can’t say this. It’s so impossible.”

“Oh, you might be surprised at what’s possible.”

He jerked his head around to look at me, startled.

I waved a hand in the air. “You know, these days, what with all the technology and stuff. Cell phones and computers and…”

“This wasn’t cell phones or computers. This was crazy.”

“You? Crazy? Wrong O’Neill, brother.”

“Jack, please, this is serious.”

I sat forward in my chair. “Joe, I know it’s serious, or you wouldn’t be here. So spit it out. Believe me, I can handle it, whatever it is.”

Joe looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock. “I saw… I saw an alien.”

“What?”

“I saw an alien, just like those Roswell aliens, the little spindly gray ones with the big doe eyes…”

Oh crap.

Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap.

“It… I thought it was a dream.”

“I wasn’t watching the Twilight Zone. And it wasn’t a dream. It was real.” He looked like he’d just confessed to being a mass murderer.

And then my confusion turned to anger because I suddenly had a damn good idea what had happened. In fact, I knew *exactly* what had happened.

The Asgaard, damn their thieving, deceiving, sneaky little alien hearts, had gone looking for more of that top of the line O’Neill DNA. Mine was close to what they needed, but not quite right, Thor had revealed on Loki’s ship.

It was a real good thing Thor’s neck wasn’t within my reach at that moment because I’d have snapped it in two on the spot.

“Tell me what happened,” I demanded.

“I woke up and there were lights, green lights, floating around me, and this alien spoke to me…” Joe looked stunned. Shattered.

He is, after all, a man of God. And while it’s been a really long time since I read the Bible, okay, so yeah right I’ve never actually *read* the Bible, but I haven’t ever heard anyone mention little gray Roswell aliens as being included in the Bible.

Seeing one would scare the heck out of anyone.

It would be shattering to a priest.

It quite obviously had been, for Joe.

Damn the Asgaard.

How could they do this? Was this one of their ‘sanctioned experiments’? On my brother?

I knew my blood pressure had probably just jumped to a level that would have Doc giving me mega-doses of the fastest, strongest knock-out drugs she had.

Something of my confusion and anger must have shown on my face because now Joe was staring at me. “Jack?”

I cleared my throat and waved a hand in the air, trying to think of what I could say, what I should tell him, what I could tell him.

And suddenly, I knew I should tell him. Needed to tell him.

Was going to tell him.

All of it.

I got to my feet, heading for the kitchen phone, dialed up the mountain, and the information desk. “This is Colonel O’Neill. Is General Hammond still in?”

The airman’s voice on the other end answered quickly. “Yes, Sir.”

“Tell him I need to talk to him. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

Hanging up the phone, I turned to my confused looking brother. “Get your coat. We’re going for a ride.”

I hadn’t realized I’d ordered him in my Colonel’s voice until we were already in the truck and I’d pulled out of the driveway.

He was staring at me again. “That was interesting,” he said softly.

“What?” I snapped, my mind still angrily focused on a certain smug little gray… guy.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in military mode before, Jack.”

I suddenly felt sheepish. I hadn’t meant to order Joe around. He’s a decent, gentle man. “Sorry.”

“No, that’s okay. It really was interesting. I guess it’s always been hard for me to picture you as an officer ordering men around. Now I know how wrong I was.”

I shrugged.

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“To talk to someone who can straighten this out.”

“Who?”

“My boss.”

He looked bewildered “What, your boss is a Roswell alien?”

“Not exactly. Look, just, trust me.”

“I always trust you,” he said softly.

We rode in silence the rest of the way to the mountain, through the security perimeter and the first security checkpoint with no trouble, parking the truck and walking up to the gate. It was nearly 2300, the place quiet as I flashed my ID and signed Joe and myself in, past the surprised security guard on the main level.

We took the first elevator with no questions asked; they knew me after all, and I was vouching for the man with me.

We did get a few odd looks, though.

The second elevator was a bit trickier.

Joe, of course, was not on the authorized visitor list.

The security officer, however, was an SGC veteran. He looked from me to Joe and back to me, raising an eyebrow.

I signed the clipboard, then bent closer. “Clone,” I whispered.

He nodded. “I need to call General Hammond,” he stated.

“Don’t bother. He’s expecting me. Us,” I stated, and headed for the elevator, waving Joe to follow.

----------

Once the door of the second elevator closed behind us, I sighed with relief. What I was doing, bringing an unauthorized person into the SGC, was as illegal as when I’d taken Merrin, an unauthorized person, out of the SGC. I’d gotten into a bit of trouble over that. I’d probably get into a bit of trouble over this. But this time, the Asgaard had gone too far. They’d dragged Joe into this, not me. He was owed an explanation. And he was damned well going to get one.

Joe looked a little surprised as the elevator kept going down. “I didn’t think NORAD was this big,” he said at last.

“It isn’t.”

When the doors finally opened, I stepped out and he followed, slowly.

“Come on,” I waved him after me and headed for my office. People passed us in the hall, doing double takes. I studiously ignored them.

Arriving at my office, he followed me inside.

He was looking around, surprised. “So this is where you work? Behind a desk?”

“Ah, no, not really. This is my office. Most of the time I work… other places,” I answered cryptically. It was the truth. I opened the locked drawer of my desk, took out a special pass key, closed and re-locked the door, and headed out, waving Joe in front of me.

“Now what?” he asked, bewildered.

“I need to get something.” I started down the hallway, navigating the maze of corridors with the perfect ease of years spent working here. Finally, we arrived at the armory. I used my card and personal code to open the outer door, then headed for the special safe in the back. Again, it required my card and my authorizing code to open the door.

Inside, I quickly found what I was looking for, a small, translucent, polished device that fit neatly into the curve of my palm. One side was rounded, the other flat. I stuffed it into my pocket, relocked the safe and the armory’s outer door, once again beckoning Joe to follow.

We walked silently down the hallway, back to my office. I waved Joe to a chair. He sat, still saying nothing, a wondering look on his face.

“Just a minute more,” I told him. Digging the device out of my pocket, I clenched it tightly in my hand and spoke to it in my best command voice. “Thor. You’re needed. Here. Now.”

I set the communicator down.

Joe was staring at me like I was some sort of mad man, talking to a paperweight.

Nothing happened.

I picked up the device again. “Thor, you better be here. Soon.”

Still nothing happened. If they’d snatched Joe, then cut and run, I’d be kicking his sorry little gray butt clear across the galaxy when I caught up with him.

“Thor!” I tried the stone once more. “Thor, get your a…ah, butt down here. Now!”

Joe looked like he was about to call for the guys in the little white coats to take me away, when suddenly the room lit up with a flash of blindingly bright light and Thor was standing there in my office.

“O’Neill? Is something wrong? Why have you summoned me…” Thor suddenly realized we were not alone in the room, and he turned quickly toward the chair where my quite clearly dazed brother had leaped to his feet, his mouth hanging open.

Sarcasm dripped from my words. “Thor, buddy, meet Joe O’Neill. Joe, Thor,” I waved from one to the other.

Thor’s huge oval eyes blinked lazily. “Joe O’Neill?”

“My brother,” I answered pointedly, still exuding sarcasm with a capital S. “Brother. You know, humans who share the same parents? The same *genes*?”

I swear I suddenly saw Thor turn a lighter shade of gray. Or maybe a hint of purple.

Whatever it was, it looked sickly.

Unsettled.

Worried.

Upset.

Joe, meanwhile, didn’t look any better. He had a glazed, deer caught in the headlights look on his face that under other circumstances might have been amusing.

At the moment, it wasn’t.

The fact that he was muttering something in Latin, probably a Hail Mary, or maybe an exorcising chant, was pretty disconcerting, too.

Thor blinked again and suddenly looked normal, or at least as normal as a three foot tall, naked, hairless, big-headed, gray-skinned alien can. “You did not tell me you had a sibling.”

“You didn’t ask. Like you didn’t ask my permission, or his, for your little experiment.”

My little alien buddy tilted his head. “What little experiment?”

“Don’t play innocent. You snatched him.”

“I did not.” Thor answered indignantly.

“Then one of your friends did.”

“We did not. I would know of such a thing.”

“Look, I know your Loki wanted my DNA enough to grab me…”

“*You* were abducted by aliens?” Joe looked even more stunned, if that were possible.

“Yes. It’s a long story,” I snapped at him, then turned my attention back to Thor. “Who gave you permission to kidnap my relatives?”

“That would be improper conduct. I assure you, I did not do such a thing. Neither did the council. We neither participated nor allowed anyone else to do such a thing.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, O’Neill.”

“Well, if it wasn’t you, someone did.” I was staring at the alien now. “Loki’s in jail, or whatever sort of lock-up you guys have, right?” He didn’t answer. I got that sudden sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach “Right? Loki’s out of action?” I demanded.

The doe eyes blinked innocently. “I regret to inform you that Loki has once again escaped our custody. We do not currently know his whereabouts.”

“He *what*? He *escaped*? Oh for cryin’ out loud.” Anger rising, I took a step toward him. He backed up. “How the hel…heck…” I backtracked quickly, remembering who else was in the room with us, “can a race that’s supposed to be *so* superior to us *puny* humans manage to so *totally* screw up something as simple as locking up that underhanded, sneaky…”

Thor was blinking those huge eyes in what I knew was a bid for sympathy and he wasn’t getting it from me. I was pissed.

“O’Neill, please…” he began.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded.

“Loki had already tried to secure your DNA and failed. There was no need to upset you with the news.”

“Well I’m upset now.”

“That is obvious.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“About what, O’Neill? I have informed you…”

“What are you going to do about Loki picking on my relatives?” I insisted stubbornly.

“I have told you, O’Neill, that we are not responsible.”

“He’s one of you…”

“That is true, but we are independent, autonomous beings…”

“Your people let him escape. To hound *my* relatives. To scare the crap out of *my* brother.”

“Jack,” Joe’s voice was incredibly soft. I turned to see him sitting in my chair, no longer looking like that deer caught in the headlights, but more like one that had been run over by an 18-wheeler. “Would you please just tell me what’s going on?”

Damn. Joe, I’m sorry. “Ah…”

“This is what you do here, you, the Air Force, you work with aliens?” he suggested.

“Not exactly.”

“So explain this,” Joe pleaded.

“Yes, Colonel, I’d like an explanation, too,” boomed a new voice from the doorway.

Oh crap again.

I spun to stare into the face, the very plainly angry face, of George Hammond, two star General, pissed off two star General, whose anger was directed right straight at me.

Oiy.

“Sir?” It’s hard to look innocent with one brother and one alien in your office. Not even the pope could talk himself out of this situation.

“Colonel? I’m waiting.” Impatiently, obviously.

I waved a hand at the Asgaard. “Thor’s here, General.”

“That I can see, *Colonel*.”

Oooh, Hammond was glaring, not budging an inch, his face wearing that you-can-be-an-airman-at-the-drop-of-my-hat look.

“And this is my brother, Joe. Father Joe O’Neill.” Maybe his being a priest could save me, not that way, but from a court-martial.

Hammond was having no part of it. “And what is *he* doing here?”

“He’s ah, sitting in my office,” I answered glibly. The glare went up two notches. “Sir,” I added, hopefully.

“Why?”

“Because he needed to meet Thor.”

“Colonel,” Hammond barked, stepping forward, right into my space, his face inches from mine. His voice dropped to a whisper. “This is the most highly secret base on the face of the planet and you’ve decided to hold a family reunion?”

“He’s a priest, Sir. Better at keeping secrets than me, Sir.”

Hammond still wasn’t buying it. “I don’t care if he’s the pope himself, he’s got no business being here. Much less with him.” He pointed at the little gray guy.

“Father Joe has already met one of us, General,” Thor answered, bless his heart. If he has a heart.

“What?” Hammond looked at Thor, confused.

That was good, because it deflected the General’s attention from me. Unfortunately, not for long enough.

“I regret to say that Colonel O’Neill’s brother has most likely encountered Loki.” Thor continued.

“I thought Loki was…” Hammond paused, looked at me and at Joe, “incarcerated.”

“Unfortunately, he is no longer in our custody, General Hammond,” Thor was now the focus of my CO’s anger.

“Great,” Hammond snapped.

The General turned away from Thor, back toward Joe and me, and the two-star glare was back full force. “This does not excuse what you did, *Colonel*.”

Why did I have the sinking feeling that “Colonel” was suddenly in danger of becoming my former title? “General…”

“I’m still waiting for that explanation.”

Amazing how a rotund, bald-headed guy ten years older and six inches shorter than me can put me in my place faster than a whole platoon of jarheads. I opened and closed my mouth, gulping like the proverbial fish out of water, searching fruitlessly for an explanation.

It was Joe who came to my rescue. “I came to him for help, General,” my brother said.

Hammond turned to Joe, and I think, for the first time, took a good look, because I saw his face suddenly get that ‘huh?’ look people get when they see Joe and me together. George turned to look at me, then back at Joe, and I could see another tirade building, and then he saw Joe’s collar and suddenly he must have realized that I hadn’t been kidding.

My brother may look just like me, but he really is a man of God, a priest.

Joe stuck out his hand. “I’m Father Joseph O’Neill.”

George didn’t shake the offered hand. “General George Hammond.”

“Nice to meet you, General. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Hammond had turned back to me, an appraising look on his face. “You have, have you?”

“Only good things,” I interjected, putting on my most innocent Boy Scout look, even though it rarely works on the General. He knows it’s been a long time since I was a Boy Scout.

“Well, the family resemblance is obvious,” George added. He can be almost as closed mouth as me, sometimes.

We’d all but forgotten Thor, who suddenly spoke up. “It appears Loki wished to continue his experiments.”

I saw Joe go suddenly pale. “Experiments? Would someone please tell me what’s going on here?”

“Maybe we should explain, Sir?” I addressed George hopefully.

“Colonel, I’d like a word with you first. Outside.”

“Ill be back in just a minute,” I told Joe, then followed my commanding officer out into the hallway, shutting the door behind me. “Sir?”

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“General, my brother came to me because he’d been abducted by aliens. Just like I was.”

“Apparently, there are lots of people who have been abducted by aliens. We don’t bring them all here and explain to them about what we do, revealing the biggest secret of the US military.”

“General, this is my brother we’re talking about here. He was targeted because of me. Loki could come after him again. And, Sir, he’s a priest. Coming face to face with an alien is a bit more than just distressing for him.” I could see the General was still undecided. “Sir, we’ve trusted far less reliable people, like those reporters…”

“And it turned out to be a disaster.”

“Yes, it was. We’ve also trusted politicians, scientists, doctors, and hundreds of military personnel, all of whom have worked or visited here. And this place is still a secret.”

George was looking at me searchingly. “We can trust him? You’ll vouch for him?”

“Absolutely, Sir, I’d pledge my career on it.”

Hammond sighed. “Well, you probably already have. Yours and mine. Since he’s here, and he’s already seen Thor, you might as well give him the full fifty cent tour. *After* he signs the non-disclosure

agreement.”

I turned back toward the room.

“Colonel?”

“Yes, Sir?” I tried once again to look my most humble.

“This was not one of your better ideas.”

“No, Sir,” agreeing with him was probably a good thing at the moment.

“Carry on then, Colonel. Show it all to him.”

------------

By the time we were done with the tour, Joe’s eyes were looking a little glazed, his face wearing that stunned expression I’d seen on more than one SGC recruit’s face.

“So this is what you do? Travel to other planets? Meet aliens?”

“Sometimes. Lots of planets are just trees and grass.”

“Jack. If they’re all our friends, why all the armament?”

I shrugged. Joe’s a bright guy. “Not everything out there is as friendly as ET.”

He nodded.

“Some are actually pretty nasty.”

“Which accounts for your nightmares?”

Shit. He must have heard those when we’d last been up at the cabin. “The Asgaard are our allies, though.”

“So why did this Loki character want me?”

“The Asgaard are all clones, and they’ve been cloning for so many generations that their bodies are failing.”

“So they want to take human bodies?”

“No. They’re hoping to find, I don’t know, I’m not a scientist, but they need help, and they think our genes can provide that help.”

“Human genes?”

“O’Neill genes.” I shrugged at his look. “Don’t ask me how, but supposedly I’m ‘advanced’,” I made that little quotation motion with my hands, “but not quite ‘advanced’ enough.”

“And me?”

“I imagine they think, since I’m close to what they need, that someone related to me could be their answer.”

“So all they need is some DNA?”

“I guess.”

“Well, why don’t they just ask?”

“Huh?”

“If Thor’s your friend…”

“Well, I don’t know if I’d quite call him that.” I backpedaled. “He has gotten me out of a couple of scrapes…”

“He said you saved him.” At my raised eyebrow, he explained. “While you were talking to your General, Thor and I had a chance to talk a little.”

“Actually, it was Carter, she’s one of my team, who saved him.”

“He also said you’ve saved his planet more than once. And saved his people…”

I felt my face get warm. “He exaggerates.”

“I do not.” Thor and General Hammond had just walked back in. “Among the Asgaard, O’Neill is legendary.”

Joe looked at me, surprise and pride on his face.

I shrugged uncomfortably. “They don’t know many humans.”

“Indeed, we do not. But it would not matter. O’Neill has proven himself to us, over and over again. We owe him a great debt…”

“Yeah, well…”

And just then, the room got twelve shades brighter.

I knew what was happening, and only by luck was I close enough to dive for Joe.

I was too late to stop it, but not too late to be caught up for the ride.

We landed with a hard thump, Joe falling on top of me.

Lying on the floor, stunned, I shook my head, and looked around to realize we were, as I suspected, on an Asgaard ship. Through the window, I could see the blue and white ball that was Earth rapidly shrinking into the distance.

I pushed myself to my feet, grabbing Joe’s hand and hauling him up to stand beside me.

He definitely had that deer-in-the-headlights look once again. It *is* a bit upsetting, one’s first time on a space ship.

“Who?”

I heard the voice and spun to face an Asgaard.

It’s pretty hard to read their expressions, but I know that little gray guy was surprised when he suddenly realized he had two O’Neill’s instead of the expected one.

“O’Neill, two L’s.”

“The same,” Joe echoed.

“And you are?” I demanded. Sorry, as much time as I’ve spent with them, I pretty much can’t tell them apart. Except for Heimdal, that squeaky voiced scientist one we rescued from that planet. This could have been Thor, or Loki, or any other Asgaard I’d ever met.

And then I recognized the fancy necklace. “Freyr!” I always knew I didn’t like that guy. When I’d had to go to the Asgaard for help when Earth had been threatened by that asteroid, Freyr had turned a deaf ear on our request for assistance. Just like he’d refused to help those Puritan folks.

He was glaring at me, anyway, I think it was a glare. “You are not supposed to be here,” he said in a tone of voice I didn’t think an Asgaard could achieve… anger.

“Well, I heard you were offering a two-for-one airfare and I couldn’t pass it up.”

“You are not amusing, O’Neill,” he snapped.

“Gee, you know, that’s just what General Hammond thinks. Loki seemed to like me, though. He kept me a whole week.”

“Loki is a fool.”

“But a convenient one, I take it?”

The alien just looked at me, his great eyes blinking slowly.

“Oh, I know you think we humans aren’t so very smart, but really, even I could figure out that Loki couldn’t have escaped custody without help from someone.”

“What you think you know is unimportant. And it does not matter. You will remember nothing of what has happened here.”

“Now, amnesia isn’t really my favorite thing…”

“What you want is irrelevant, O’Neill. You are here, and you will provide us with the assistance we need.”

“We will provide you with nothing,” I snapped.

“You have no choice,” he said, and pressed a button that opened a little door on his console, reaching inside. Freyr picked up one of those polished paperweight things, this one a bright red in color and when he squeezed it a beam of equally red light shot out of it.

Okay so I’ve spent quite a bit of time with Thor, and on Asgaard ships, and I’d never seen an Asgaard do anything violent to any living being, not even a Gould. I always sort of thought of them as pacifists in their own way, though they weren’t above destroying Replicators which aren’t exactly living beings.

But whatever device that was, let me tell you, it was nasty.

I threw myself in front of Joe, and the beam hit me full force, in the back.

It felt a lot like Ba’al’s acid.

I tried not to scream, but I think I failed.

Oh God.

I collapsed to the floor, writhing, looking helplessly up into Joe’s stricken face.

*****

“Jack. Wake up. Come on, Jack, wake up.”

The voice was gentle, and familiar and insistent. Worried, scared maybe, too.

I groaned and opened my eyes.

Blinked, confused, at my own pale image looking back at me.

And then I remembered and realized it wasn’t me I was looking at, it was Joe.

A seriously frightened Joe.

Relieved a bit, too, I could see, probably because I was awake and no longer screaming or writhing or doing something else incredibly distressing for him to see and hear.

I was lying curled up on my side, in a semi-fetal position, on a hard, bare floor, my left arm pinned under me and feeling numb, and I instinctively tried to shift to ease the uncomfortable position.

Mistake, I realized a fraction of a second too late.

“Aggghh.” I groaned, and let myself collapse onto my stomach.

“You shouldn’t move,” Joe said quietly.

“*Now* you tell me.” I was still trying to calm down my breathing, hoping that would help ease the fire flaring in my back. It wasn’t working, of course.

“I didn’t think you would try.”

I threw him a look.

“Your back’s a mess.” He added.

“Really?”

He nodded, still looking pale, and I noticed his hands were shaking and there was blood on them. My blood.

“How bad?” I asked, not really wanting to know, but not knowing what kind of weapon it was, I didn’t know what damage it would do.

“It’s some sort of burn.”

“Feels like it,” I thought, remembering the staff weapon burn I’d had on my leg on Netu. Hurt like hell then, hurt like hell now.

“I didn’t have any way to clean it, or anything to bandage it with.”

“Just as well.”

“It’ll get infected,” he objected.

“I doubt there’s much for infectious agents in here,” I waved a hand at the bare, sterile walls, floor and ceiling which made up our accommodations.

“It’s already full of bits and pieces of your shirt.”

Crap. “It’ll be okay,” I suggested hopefully. “Help me up.”

“Jack, I don’t think you should move.”

“No, I probably shouldn’t, because it’s going to hurt like he… Hades, but lying here on the floor is just not giving me much of a view…”

“There isn’t a view.”

“Let me see for myself.” I used my arms to push, and quickly realized I was weak and shaky, and yeah, a little bit dizzy, but Joe’s hands were steadying me.

“Ah, ah, ah,” I moaned but with Joe’s help I managed to get head and shoulders off the floor and my butt under me and my body propped against the smooth, cool wall, sitting at an angle to keep pressure off the raw area of my back.

“Better?” he asked.

“Oh, much,” I mumbled, trying not to let him see how much I hurt. From the look on his face, I wasn’t convincing him of anything. Then again, this was Joe, and Joe knew me far too well. “So how long was I out?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe an hour,” he guessed as he slid down to sit beside me, back against the wall. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” I waved a hand, which was about the only thing I could move without fanning the fire in my well-toasted hide. “Getting shot in the back by some alien weapon is all in a day’s work.”

He rolled his eyes, looking across at me. “Why is it that I think it really is?”

I let my head fall back to rest against the coolness of the wall and closed my eyes. “Because it is.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

I opened my eyes, and looked over at him. “Top secret stuff. Not more than a few dozen people on the whole planet know about the Stargate and the SGC…”

“And you’ve been doing this the whole time since…”

I knew what he was going to say, and to this day, despite all the time that has passed, I still don’t like to hear the words said out loud, so I finished the line before he could “…Since I rejoined the Air Force, yes. Seven years ago.”

He shook his head. “Jack…”

Both Joe and I sat on the floor a moment, staring after them. Then Joe climbed slowly to his feet and walked over to what they’d brought for us, picking up the containers and hurrying back to kneel beside me. Joe sniffed the contents of the larger container, then stuck a finger into the liquid and took a careful sip. “Water,” he proclaimed, and held it out for me. I sat up straighter with a stifled groan and drank gratefully, wiping my lips when I was done.

The other container was a small jar. Joe worked at it for a moment before figuring out the catch on the lid. Immediately a strong antiseptic smell wafted out of the small container. Joe stuck a finger in it, wiping some on the back of his hand, waiting a moment. “It tingles,” he said, “but it’s sort of numb now.”

Knowing numb would be good, I nodded. “Let’s get it done, then.”

With Joe’s help I slid back to the floor, lying on my stomach.

Kneeling beside me, he pulled back the scorched edges of my t-shirt. I heard him suck in a breath in surprise, and when he leaned over to look into my face, his had gone a shade whiter than white. “Jack, this is bad.”

“I know.” Been there, done that, had the scars to prove it.

“I think it needs to be cleaned before I put this… this salve on it. I could use a piece of your shirt and some of the water…”

I nodded.

He was looking at my back as he tore the hem off my shirt, a pensive look on his face, and then he shifted around so he could see my face. “This will hurt I think.”

“Yes, it will,” I answered forthrightly.

Staring at me, he took a deep breath, then stopped, closed his eyes, his lips moving, and I realized he was saying a prayer, whether to steady himself or for me, I didn’t know.

First, he poured some of the water onto the strip of cloth, and then he leaned over me and tipped the water container.

I felt the first drops hit my skin cool and soothing, and then they ran down onto the burned patch and I flinched and forced myself to lie still.

Joe didn’t look at my face as he touched the cloth down on my skin, and slid it across the raw burn.

I tried not to scream. I bit the inside of my cheek and beat my fist against the floor as he moved the cloth across the wound. I assumed that was what he was doing, even though it felt like he was pulling dull, broken razorblades through my flesh.

“I’m sorry,” Joe muttered over and over again.

“It’s okay,” I managed to snarl through gritted teeth. “Just finish.”

I’ll give him credit, his face looked white and I thought he might pass out even before I did, but he kept on, cleaning the wound while I focused on inhaling and exhaling and not screaming.

An hour or two later, or so it seemed, he pulled the cloth away, and I managed to suck in a deep breath, dropping my head onto my hands for a long moment.

His hand reached out and touched my head, gently.

I could feel his fingers trembling.

He was reciting something again, vaguely familiar Latin words, a blessing I thought, remembering back to those long ago days when I’d been an altar boy.

“You did good,” I mumbled.

He nodded. “Should I finish now?”

I took a couple more steadying breaths and nodded. “Um, yeah.”

And then he dipped his hand into the little jar of alien goop and touched my back. God damn, it was like he’d laid a chunk of solid ice across my back, and I couldn’t stop my reaction, writhing and moaning, but bless him, he finished the job, smearing a thick layer of the substance across the wound.

I wanted to sink into the floor, or jump through a window or just plain expire on the spot, because it hurt, with a giant, supersized capital H.

Hurt is a four letter word, you do know that, don’t you?

And then a miracle happened, or so it seemed to me.

The pain withered, eased, and wonder of all wonders, stopped.

My back went numb.

I sighed with relief, limbs going lax, letting my eyes fall shut in relief.

I slept.

Maybe there was something in that salve, or maybe in the water, or maybe it was just my exhaustion, my body needing to shut down and recuperate.

I slept soundly.

When I woke, Joe was still sitting there, leaning across the wall, not looking at me but staring at nothing, his lips moving. Saying more prayers, I knew.

I pushed myself off the floor, relieved that the pain sensors in my back were pretty much still turned off, and sat up against the wall. Joe was so immersed in what he was doing that he didn’t even hear me.

Finally, I reached out a hand and touched his arm.

He jumped, his gaze snapping around to look at me in surprise.

“You okay?” I asked him this time.

He nodded. “I thought you were dying.”

“I’m not easy to kill.”

“That’s apparent.”

We sat in companionable silence for a couple of minutes, and then my ever restless nature demanded I do something. With a groan, I pushed myself toward my feet.

Instantly, Joe was up, his hand gripping my arm. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

“I need to look around.”

“You should be resting.”

“I have rested.”

“Your back…”

“It doesn’t hurt…”

“Well it still looks like someone used a flamethrower on your skin, and maybe it doesn’t hurt now, but…”

“Sitting there,” I pointed to the floor, “ isn’t going to make it get better any faster than being up here, on my feet,” I insisted, trying to pretend I wasn’t feeling weak and dizzy.

Joe kept his solid grip on my arm. “Riiight. Then you better let me help.”

I wobbled over toward the door, or where the door had been, feeling weak and shaky but gaining a tiny bit of equilibrium with each step, okay, Joe’s support helping. A lot.

I raised my hands, and felt along the wall, hoping there was a seam or something.

“So what are we looking for?”

“A way out.”

“Riiight.” You know, sometimes Joe sounds an awful lot like me.

“Got any better ideas?” I snapped.

“No,” he admitted, and joined me in examining the wall.

It was perfectly bare and smooth, hard to believe there was an opening at all, but I’d seen it with my own two eyes. My fingers didn’t find even the slightest indentation as I felt across the smooth surface, hoping Joe wouldn’t notice how much I was leaning in against the wall to stay upright.

“You know, for people…er, beings… who are supposed to be allies, these guys don’t act very friendly.”

“Great observation,” I snapped, slapping the wall in frustration. “Freyr, Loki, let us out or so help me…” I threatened. I pounded on the wall again. “Hey, you, open up!”

They did.

Unfortunately, I was leaning against the segment of the wall where the door was. A big section of the plain gray wall just suddenly disappeared, taking my support with it.

I fell to the floor landing hard at the feet of one of those skinny, pasty little gray guys, the wind knocked out of me.

“O’Neill?” he asked, questioningly.

I figured it was Loki, since he wasn’t wearing that big gaudy jewel pendant-thingy I’d seen Freyr wearing.

“Thanks for opening the door,” I gasped, trying to regain my dignity, not easy when you’re lying on the floor looking up into the face of something out of every UFO-fan’s overactive imagination.

“I see that you are recovered. That is excellent. You will follow me.”

“I think not.”

He turned, and looked down at me. “Are you not recovered?”

“No, he’s not,” Joe stepped up. “He needs a doctor to treat that burn before it gets infected.”

I waved a hand to get him to shut up, because we had much bigger and more important problems than a possible infection that wouldn’t happen for days yet, if it did happen. “What do you want with us?”

“You are aware of our search for suitable DNA,” Loki answered.

“Well you can’t have it from my family.”

“You are not in a position to make that decision.”

I struggled toward my feet, Joe’s helping hand enabling me to get upright, and looked down on the sneaky alien scientist. “Let us go.”

“I cannot.”

“Yes, you can.”

“You are stubborn, O’Neill, but that does not change…”

“Thor’s pissed at you guys, you do know that, don’t you?”

Do Asgaard laugh? Loki made an odd choking sound. “What Commander Thor wants is irrelevant. When I have found the solution to our race’s cloning dilemma, I will be revered by all the Asgaard…”

“Ah, the legendary Loki…” I deadpanned.

“And Thor will be nothing but a former commander,” added Freyr, who had suddenly stepped into the hallway. He was once again carrying that ugly little red stone and pointing it at me.

I felt my skin crawl just at the thought of the pain it inflicted.

“Now I believe you should move, O’Neill, we have more experiments to perform.”

Joe had moved up to stand beside me. “Let my brother go and I’ll do whatever you want…”

“No!” I objected. “He didn’t mean that. The offer has been rescinded…”

“Jack,” Joe turned to look at me, his gentle face worried. “You said they can’t use your DNA, right? So let them send you home.”

“I don’t leave anyone behind.”

“You wouldn’t be leaving me behind. I’d be staying of my own free will.”

“No way…”

Freyr’s voice had a snarl I’d never heard from the usually calm Asgaard. “This is all very touching, but time is passing and we have much to do…”

And that’s when I did it, made the most horrible mistake I’d made since that horrible day seven years before when I’d failed to lock that drawer… Sometimes, I’m just incredibly, unforgivably stupid.

I spun toward Freyr, arm lashing out toward his little gray chin, intending to clothesline the little fella. My forearm connected with the point of his chin with a satisfying thunk, and he started to go down and I was already spinning toward Loki when I heard the weapon discharge.

I heard Joe scream.

I turned, and my heart stopped.

Freyr’s weapon had gone off, hitting Joe in the chest.

My brother was down on the floor, writhing, gasping for air.

I dropped to my knees beside Joe then turned desperately to Loki. “Help him!”

“His fate does not matter,” the alien said.

“What? You sonuvabitch…” I surged toward my feet, only to realize that Loki now had the weapon, and it was pointed unwaveringly at me. I sank back to the floor beside Joe’s quivering body.

“His fate does not matter…” the alien insisted.

“Doesn’t matter?” I shouted. “Damn you, he’s my brother. He could be the solution to your race…”

“He is not,” Loki answered coldly.

“He’s not your answer, so you’re just gonna let him die?”

“It is his fate.”

“His fate? He shouldn’t be here. You dragged him up here to steal from him…” I felt Joe shudder as he fought to get enough air. I was ready to beg for Joe’s life. Grovel. Plead. Anything. “Please…”

“Move him back into the room…” Loki waved the weapon at me.

“No.”

He raised the weapon. “Then I will kill him now…”

“No!” As gently as I could, I took hold of Joe’s arms and slid him back into the room.

The door closed behind us.

I cradled Joe’s limp body against my own chest. “Joe, come on, hold on. Please, don’t die on me. Joe…”

“Jack,” the word was choked out as he fought to breathe.

His face was pale, pale as death.

He was dying.

I’ve seen enough dying people to know when I’m looking at one.

“Shhhh, it’s okay.” I hugged him close.

“Jac…”

“Save your breath.”

“Too… late.”

“No it’s not,” I answered him desperately. “They’ll find us. Thor and the General must be looking for us. Just hold on until they get here.”

His eyes sank closed. “It hurts…”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I’m sorry I got you into this…” I was blinking furiously, fighting the moisture that was gathering in my eyes.

“Not…fault,” He shuddered, fighting for anther breath. “Forgive…forgive… yourself…”

I shook my head.

“For Char… Charlie.”

“I can’t.”

“Can.”

“Joe…” I would never forgive myself for this or for my son. Never. “Joe…”

He paused, trying to say more, the words so soft I could barely hear them. ”I forgive… you.” His whole body shook and I held him tighter as if the pure force of my will could keep his body and soul together.

“Cold…” he mumbled.

His mouth was working, he was trying to say something more, and I bent my head to try to hear, but it was too late. I felt his body shudder once more, and then the breath rattled in his throat once, and again, and he went still in my arms.

“Joe,” I whispered the name, and knew it was too late, and that it didn’t matter, just like it hadn’t mattered when Charlie died. The people I loved died, and left, left me behind.

I let my chin sink down to rest on Joe’s lightly silvered head, and I wanted to cry, and couldn’t, because I didn’t know how, just like I didn’t know how to forgive or forget or understand. Joe would have. He’d have explained it to me. But he was gone. He was never going to explain anything to me again.

Time passed.

My arms grew numb and my back began to ache, my head throbbed and my eyes burned with unshed tears, but I wouldn’t let him go.

He grew cold in my arms, but I wouldn’t let him go.

The salve on my back stopped working, and the pain in my back returned, and I welcomed it but I wouldn’t let him go.

Oh, Joe, I am sorry. You were always a better man than I, and you deserved so much better than this. The world needs people like you, gentle, good and decent and honest human beings who care.

Time went on, oblivious to the dull aching emptiness in my heart.

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