Karma

By Badgergater and Margo

Episode: Allegiance

Season: 6

Spoilers: Allegiance, Abyss, Frozen

Category: epilogue, drama, hurt/comfort, angst

Pairing: None

Summary: There’s more trouble at the alpha site, Jack’s POV

Rating: PG, Jack’s voice means Jack’s mouth

Warnings: Whumping

Disclaimer: I know I don't own Stargate or anything or anyone relating to it. I acknowledge the power of those who do own it, and pledge to always take good care of it, well, at least Jack anyway.

Author’s dedication: For Margo, who kept insisting that there was a fic here… her idea and my words in combination

Author's Note: This is my 200^th fic… which astonishes me. I never intended for Jack to become an obsession, but you know how he is, stubborn, determined, and doesn’t listen at all…. I owe a huge debt to those folks who have helped me along the way, especially Tanya, my friend, who I miss; Carol, whose encouragement at the start buoyed me; Corine, always ready to go schlossing <G>; Sid who pushes me to be better; Sis, for being my net-sister; Diana for the world’s most thoughtful and thought provoking feedback; Margo, for always being there; and everyone who's ever sent feedback… it’s an author’s only and most valued reward

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

At the time, it had seemed like the right thing to do. Admittedly, I’d been a little distracted by… other … recent events. Important events. Duties. Responsibilities. Problems.

And later, when the stupidity of ignoring it became apparent, I was a little too out of it to figure it out.

So, yeah, it *was* stupid.

But like I said, I was busy.

And it seemed like no big deal at the time.

Go figure.

After all, the Tok’ra and the Jaffa had buried the hatchet at last, and thankfully, not in each other.

Let me go back and start at the beginning… or at least that part you don’t already know, just summarizing the rest. I assume you’re familiar with the whole mess when Anubis’ forces chased the Tok’ra from one of their bases and Jacob brought them to Earth’s Alpha Site.

I know Jacob was in a hurry and under fire, but considering the Tok’ra and all their *superior* knowledge of the universe, you’d think they’d have had somewhere else they could go.

Okay, okay, that sounds uncharitable I know, but I’m not one to mince words. If the truth hurts… well, it’s still the truth. And the truth is, I don’t trust the Tok’ra. To risk a cliché here, a leopard can’t change his spots, and while a snake isn’t a leopard, and it doesn’t have spots, at least the Gould kind doesn’t, it still is what it is, an alien… thing… with its own motives, you know?

I know, better than most, and much better than I’d ever care too.

But I *was* telling the truth the other day when I said I liked Jacob, though honestly I’m not so sure about Selmak.

At any rate, Jacob brought the Tok’ra and a whole shitload of trouble smack dab into my bailiwick.

Why Hammond put me in charge of that damned Alpha Site... okay, that’s a whole other story we don’t need to go into here. Just know that overseeing phase two of the site expansion was not going to make my top ten list of all-time favorite assignments.

Still it turned out that it was a good thing we were there. Sort of. I mean, despite the Tok’ra having snakes to heal them, it was a damn good thing that Doc was on hand when the retreating remnants came pouring through the gate. Mostly for our own guys, granted, but they’d gotten hurt helping the Tok’ra.

So, when the shit hit the fan, we threw out the welcome mat and let Jacob and his friends come on in, and all hell broke loose.

It started with the sudden realization that the Tok’ra and the Jaffa get along like cats and dogs. As if I shouldn’t have realized that even before my little chat with Jacob. So, okay, I’ll admit it, I was still a little off my best. It had been a rough couple of weeks and I was still getting my sea legs back. Being all but dead, and snaked, and captured and then really truly dead and then dead again and again and… well, I don’t need to go into those details, either. Suffice to say, I was not thrilled to have the Tok’ra join our little group of happy Alpha Site campers. Not even Hammond could blame me for resenting them.

It was going to take me a while to get over Kanan, okay?

So I found myself mediating between two groups that liked each other about as much as the Hatfields and the McCoys, with us poor innocent little Tau’ri standing right in the middle.

On top of that, there was that Asterisk thing on the loose, which, of course, we didn’t figure out until way later. So much for the brain trust of the universe’s great anti-snake alliance… now there’s a scary thought to keep me up at night.

As if I needed anything else to keep me awake.

Which brings me to the start of the trouble, or at least, my trouble, which began when that sneaky Invisible Man wannabe tried to get to the gate. He managed to shut down Carter’s turn-the-invisible-guy-visible doohickey and ended up right in the middle of us, knocking a few people around.

Me included.

That thing packed a punch, caught me right in the ribcage and just flung me off my feet.

One minute I was upright and looking at where the thing was-but-wasn’t, and the next I was picking myself up out of the dust. Now, I’m no hulk-sized guy, but I’m not Twiggy, either.

That thing was strong, hell, it knocked Teal’c flying, too.

So there.

In the wholesale confusion, friendly fire took down a few of our own guys before we finally nailed that thing, with Bra’tac’s help. Which I muchly appreciated, since, though I’d drawn my knife, knowing that it, unlike a bullet, could penetrate the Hatrack’s protective force field, it was not a confrontation I was looking forward to.

Bra’tac’s not bad, for a guy who’s a hundred and thirty-something.

By the time we straightened out the mess, got the Tok’ra and the Jaffa talking to each other rather than shouting accusations back and forth and figured it was safe to send a message to Earth, we discovered another problem.

Big problem.

Big, big problem.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

I’d coordinated the clean-up around the camp and was talking to Bra’tac when Carter, all breathless and worried looking, came hurrying up.

I hate it when she looks worried. When someone that much smarter than me looks worried, I get nervous, knowing that she knows something I don’t know. Well, she knows lots of things I don’t know, but that’s neither here nor there to the subject at hand. Just understand that when SG-1’s science wizard gets upset, experience has taught me that I generally will soon be feeling the same.

"Sir."

"Carter? Problem?" I can be sooo perceptive sometimes. "What’s up?"

"Sir, it’s the gate."

I turned to look the way she was looking. "Yes, that *is* the gate." Smart, aren’t I? Start with a little humor, diffuse the tension, get everyone relaxed, then confront the problem. Basic command leadership technique number one. And sometimes it even works.

"Colonel…"

It wasn’t working this time. I recognized that uh-oh look, and I didn’t like it, especially adding in the fact that something over an hour ago I’d ordered Carter to play ET and phone home to let the General know what was what. But the gate was still just sitting there, like a big honkin’ hula hoop.

No loud clanking noises.

No kawoosh.

No big blue shimmering puddle.

"Something’s wrong with the gate?" I don’t miss a thing. Mind like a steel trap and all, though sometimes I think it’s been sprung one time too many.

She nodded. "During the fight with the Ashrak, the DHD was hit by weapons fire…"

"I thought naquadah was basically indestructible?" I’m not completely ignorant of this alien technology we use. Just, well, sure, mostly ignorant.

"Naquadah is, Sir, but the DHD isn’t made entirely of naquadah. The pedestal, the dialing plate, the interior alignment mechanisms that control…"

My eyes were glazing over, and for a moment I felt dizzy. Science does that to me. "Ach!" I waved a finger in front of her face, stopping her ‘Basic Concepts of DHD Operation 101’ lecture. "Just the relevant details, Major. Bottom line."

"Some of the crystals were shattered."

"But you can fix them." I made it a statement, not a question. The last six years have taught me to have confidence in Carter’s technical abilities, though on occasion she needs a little figurative pat on the back to encourage her.

"No, Sir."

I hate it when she says that. "No? So we’re stranded? What about your naquadah generator, or did we drain the battery?"

"No, Sir. We tried the generator, with no luck. The damaged DHD seems to be emitting a fail-safe signal that’s somehow locking the gate mechanisms in place. It’s possible that one of the DHD’s safety protocols has activated, preventing it from engaging the system when there’s sufficient damage to the matrix…"

Another wave of the hand cut her off once more. "You mean we’re stranded here?" Now I *was* getting worried.

"No, Sir, the Tok’ra have an idea…"

Now *that* was just what I wanted to hear. Another Tok’ra idea. As long as it didn’t have anything to do with rescuing old girlfriends. I shuddered. "Oh, they have lots of ideas, Major," I stopped, realizing the bitter tinge that had crept into my voice, threatening to overwhelm the sarcasm. I sighed. "Go on, Carter."

"Well, Sir, we’re going to use crystals from the zatarc detection device. Malak thinks we can adapt them."

"Can you?"

"Probably."

"Probably?" My voice rose an octave. "Only probably?"

"We’ve never tried anything like this before, Sir."

I nodded, running a hand through my hair, giving myself a moment to think, not that there was much for me to think about. Carter and the Tok’ra would try what they could. I could only sit back and wait impatiently. "How long?"

"We’re getting started right now, Sir, but it’s going to take several days at least…"

"Days?" I drummed my fingers on my P-90, looking off at the horizon. Days stuck here, with an uneasy truce that I still didn’t trust, mostly because it involved taking the word of the Tok’ra. I don’t trust their promises. They’re not my favorite aliens, and they never will be. So sue me. I have my reasons. You’d feel the same if you were me, having been through what I went through because of the treachery of one of them.

Suddenly, I realized Carter was still standing in front of me, staring. "Major? Something else?"

"Sir, is that blood?" she pointed toward my hand.

Looking down, I realized there were red drops speckled across my fingers. Quickly, I wiped my hand across my vest. "Yeah."

"You should…"

I knew what she was going to say, and I headed her off. I’d seen the small tear in my vest, felt the sting where I’d been cut, but there’d barely been a break in the skin. It was so much of a no big deal, I didn’t even remember when exactly that it happened, probably when that alien thingy had tossed me to the ground. I’d totally forgotten about it in the flurry of activity that had followed taking down the Ashrak. "It’s just a scratch, during all that scrambling around looking for the Ashcan… I’m fine."

"You should have Janet take a look, Sir."

"Right. I will. When I have a minute," I agreed so she’d leave it alone. Averting a war between our two alien allies while we were all still stranded here was more important at the moment than bothering Doc, who had plenty of real medical work to do. "I’ll get a band-aid later, okay? Now, Major, those repairs?"

She threw one more worried glance my way, then nodded and trotted back toward the group gathered around the DHD.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Feeling another headache beginning to pound at the back of my skull, I rubbed a hand along the back of my neck, my fingers encountering an old scar there, small and slight, a reminder of another one of my least favorite moments of the past six years. I closed my eyes for a moment, fighting back a sudden queasy feeling at the memory. I’ve been snaked twice. How’s that for really sucky cosmic karma? Guess I’m just one of the luckiest guys in the universe, huh?

Pity party over, I turned back to overseeing the clean up of the mess around the camp, and creating a plan to keep the peace.

Simple, actually.

Rule number two of basic command leadership: keep everybody busy, don’t give them time to make trouble.

The human contingent wouldn’t be a problem. Fraiser had more than a few of them under her care in the infirmary. The rest, what was left of Pierce’s team and the remnants of the others who’d come through with the Tok’ra, were helping the assigned security detail maintain base security, each Tau’ri paired up with a Tok’ra and a Jaffa. It might seem like overkill, but we were on an alien planet after all. Sure, we’d been there for over a year now, and we’d not encountered any nasty native beasties or anything, but that didn’t mean we could afford to get complacent. I wasn’t about to forget those killer lightning bug critters we’d discovered back on that moon, months after the base had been established.

Off-world, you *never* let your guard down.

There are old soldiers, and there are bold soldiers, but there are no old, bold soldiers. Not in this sort of work.

I sent a group of Jaffa out for firewood, good physical labor to keep them occupied. And though we didn’t actually need it since we had the naquadah generator for light and heat, we’d found a big blazing campfire in the evenings had become a bit of an Alpha Site tradition, creating a little camaraderie between the groups living here.

Maybe it would help with the Tok’ra. Maybe they know some good campfire stories? Nah, doubt that.

But regardless, woodcutting is good, solid, time consuming physical labor. Away from the base camp.

One of Malak’s buddies took a team of Tok’ra out into the forest, in the opposite direction, searching for the spot one of our survey teams had found some crystals, which might be helpful for the DHD repairs. Maybe. Not likely, but it gave them something useful to do and got a bunch of the Tok’ra out of camp and away from the Jaffa. I sent Teal’c along to keep the peace. Though he’s a Jaffa, he’s pretty level headed most of the time. As long as Tanith isn’t around, he keeps his focus. And he wouldn’t let things get out of hand. I knew I could trust him.

So.

Everyone was busy.

That was a good thing.

No time for fights.

No time for trouble.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The rest of the day went by quickly while I kept everyone occupied with chores and made sure the two groups of aliens were still getting along, interspersed with periodic trips to check on Carter and the science club at work on the DHD. As evening fell, I strolled through the camp, talking to as many of the… men… as I could, keeping my finger on the pulse of things.

Things seemed quiet and finally, somewhere along about what would have been midnight, Earth time, I headed for my quarters and a few hours sleep.

As base commander, temporary, I was entitled to the four star accommodations, a private room about the size of a broom closet. The basic military issue cot stretched from one wall to the other, my head nearly touching one wall, my toes scraping the other. Frankly, I’ve seen dog crates that were bigger. But it did have a door, and a bunk, and no one else’s snoring would keep me awake.

I shrugged out of my jacket and hung it and my cap on the little hook behind the door. Considering the distinct possibility that I’d get called out to handle trouble during the night, and because I was down to my last set of clean BDUs, I decided to sleep in most of my clothes. Sitting down on the bunk, I bent over to unlace my boots.

And suddenly remembered what I’d told Carter I’d do.

Damn.

I’d never gone to see Doc. Well, okay, I actually *had* been to see, er, talk to, Doc, to check on the wounded, but she’d been busy and I was feeling fine, so I hadn’t even thought to bother her. Her pint-sized infirmary was packed to the gills, between the initial battle casualties and those injured in the encounter with the Ashrak.

Friendly fire casualties.

Hate them. It’s bad enough when the bad guys shoot ya’; being shot by the folks on your own side, well, that’s an even bigger waste. We’d already lost a couple of men, out in the woods to that invisible alien, and it was possible that we might lose a couple more, especially the guy from Pierce’s team who had a bad staff weapon wound.

Doc had more than enough to do, short-handed and all, that I didn’t want to waste her time on something minor. I pulled up my t-shirt, finding only a small scratch over my fourth rib on the right side, a little dried blood smeared across the skin.

Hell, I’d cut myself worse than that shaving.

Rummaging through the first aid kit in my field vest, I found a band-aid and slapped it on. There. Medical chores done.

Settling down on my bunk, I closed my eyes and slept.

Or tried to.

The day’s events kept racing through my head, chased by the list of things I’d need to get done tomorrow, and the nagging worry that, if the gate couldn’t be fixed, we’d be testing the viability of the Alpha Site as a stand-alone colony.

Far sooner than anyone intended.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Finally, I drifted off to a restless sleep.

I dreamed.

Weird, too bright, kaleidoscope dreams, you know, the freaky kind that leave you wondering what the heck was in that brownie you had for dessert. Strange, unsettling dreams, that leave you feeling restive and unrested.

I woke up with a headache, and feeling downright creaky all over. Had someone turned up the gravity overnight? I wondered as I sat up, swinging my feet over to the floor, dropping my head into my hands. Glancing at my watch, I saw that it was just after dawn, local time. I’d gotten maybe three hours sleep.

Definitely not enough, the way I was feeling.

I stretched, arching my back like a cat, a creaky old cat I thought as my back protested, raising my arms and swinging them forward then up over my head.

Grabbing my boots, I dumped in some foot powder to freshen ‘em up, shoved my socked feet inside, and hooked the laces.

Stood up.

And nearly fell over.

Dizzy.

Damn. I must be getting too old for stressed out, sleepless nights on lumpy, rickety cots. I needed coffee, that was it. Coffee. A caffeine jump start. That would do the trick. And food. Low blood sugar did bad things to the human body, that was common knowledge.

Finger combing through my hair, I grabbed my jacket and hat off the hook, and stepped out into the hallway. Down the corridor were the shared facilities, so I took care of my morning ritual, deciding I could skip a shave for one more day.

Despite the early hour, others were already stirring as I buttoned up and headed out. The smell of coffee wafted enticingly down the hall from the small room designated as the cafeteria. One thing about being stranded on the Alpha Site, we had food, and by that I don’t mean just MREs; shelter, and power. Not quite all the conveniences of home, but pretty damn close to it, all of the necessities at least. Hell, we even had genuine indoor plumbing. For a soldier who’s bivouacked out in the field for a big chunk of the last decade, the Alpha Site was akin to the Waldorf Astoria.

Not to mention that it was damn lucky we had Doc here with us, too. Normally, there was only a medical corpsman stationed on site, but she’d come along with SG-1 to install some of the fancy new equipment the base has been allotted. Thanks to her, despite being trapped here, it looked like most of the refugees from the battle at the Tok’ra base would survive, aliens and humans alike.

I got some coffee, picked up a bowl of oatmeal and milk, then headed for my office. Just picture the broom closet sleeping quarters, except with a desk instead of a cot. Exciting, huh? While I one-finger typed my officer of the day report ("Encountered nasty alien. Defeated same. Stargate not working." Brevity, that’s my trademark.) on the laptop, I actually managed to eat most of my oatmeal and drink all of my coffee before the day dropped straight down into the shitcan.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I’d known all along the peace couldn’t last, because I couldn’t keep them all busy and away from each other 24/7, or, as it was on this planet, 26/8, as Carter kept reminding me.

I heard the yelling first.

Jumped to my feet, surprised by the head rush, but ignored it.

The shouting was plainer now, louder, too. "Colonel O’Neill. Colonel O’Neill."

I made it all the way to the outside door just in time to meet a breathless captain from Pierce’s team, accompanied by a not even slightly winded Jaffa.

"Captain?"

The young man had stopped in front of me, bent over, hands on knees, sucking in air. "One of the Tok’ra, Sir, there’s trouble."

Oiy. They’re worse than squabbling children.

Malak had come running up. I turned to him. "I thought we had a truce here, kids," I looked from him to Bra’tac, who’d also just arrived on the scene. A crowd began to gather around us.

"We do," the Tok’ra answered in that snaky voice.

I suppressed a shudder, figuring that gesture wouldn’t be too tactful at the moment. "So what’s the problem then?" I turned back to the airman. "Tell me on the way, huh?" We started toward the other side of the camp, walking quickly. "Now, what happened?"

It was the Jaffa who answered. "One of the Tok’ra, Farnan, was speaking to the wife of Ta’beer. It is improper to do so, without…"

"Oh for cryin’ out loud. We are all stranded on an alien planet, cut off from the rest of the universe, and we’re fighting over the women already? Oiy." I scrubbed a hand across my face, realizing my headache was spiking again. "Bra’tac, how about you go and talk to your guy, and Malak here will talk to his. And remind everyone that we all just need to get along? Until the gate’s fixed and we can all just go our separate ways?"

Bra’tac nodded. "I will talk to Ta’beer. He is young and impetuous."

Young, right, probably only 70 or 80, I thought with a sigh.

"Malak?" I turned to the Tok’ra.

"I will speak to Farnan, and be sure he understands, and, if it is appropriate, apologizes."

"Good." I watched them go. That is one good thing about being in charge, I get to be the delegater, instead of being the delegatee.

So started the day, and it pretty much went on all day like that, petty little squabbles, one after another. I’d just get started on one task and someone would come looking for me. Carter’s report on the status of the gate was interrupted, which I’ll admit didn’t seem like such a bad thing at the time, since all I needed to know was ‘still broke’ not the complete lowdown on the how, the why and the revised theory of wormhole physics. Oiy… My discussion with Pierce on base security was interrupted. My lunch was interrupted. Doc’s report on the status of the wounded was interrupted. My talk with Bra’tac, my talk with Jacob, my talk with Racnor was interrupted. Every single conversation I started, every single *thing* I started, got interrupted.

Except my headache. That was uninterrupted, and had now been joined by a backache and a tension-induced ache-all-over feeling. I found a couple of aspirin in the desk, washed them down with a been-in-the-pot-all-day-strong cup of coffee, and sat down at my desk once more, trying to finish at least one thing before the day ended.

And gave it up when my radio chirped at me.

"O’Neill."

I recognized T’s voice. "Teal’c?" His calm tone was the best thing I’d heard all day. "How goes the search for crystals?"

"It goes well, O’Neill. We have found a large deposit of the proper material. We are now removing several pieces, and will soon have several samples to send back to the team working on the DHD. However, we have no personnel to spare to deliver it."

"I’ll come for it," I answered impulsively, feeling a need to get out of the windowless, stuffy little office. Maybe that would clear my head, fresh air and exercise, and no one chasing me down to mediate another pointless spat.

"Is that wise, O’Neill?"

"More than wise, T. I need a break. I’ll leave Pierce in charge. He, Bra’tac and Jacob can handle anything that comes up for the next couple hours or so."

Which turned out to be true, although it lasted a hell of a lot more than a couple hours.

Remember what I said about really sucky cosmic karma?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I got directions from Teal’c on how to find the location of the little rock hunting expedition, and headed out of camp, all but whistling. What a relief, to leave the bickering behind. Nothing major was going on, just little stuff as the close quarters existence at the base took its toll on two groups who held a traditional hatred for each other going back, oh, gee, a couple of centuries. I made a mental note to myself to consider setting up alternative housing arrangements, in tents. Preferably on opposite sides of the planet, but if we couldn’t do that, at least on opposite sides of the compound. If, that is, it looked like we were going to have to stay more than one more night.

Which it did, according to the last stop I’d made before leaving camp. I‘d found Carter and the Tok’ra geek squad sitting in the middle of a tangle of wires, metal gizmos and unidentifiable pieces and parts that had been the interior workings of the DHD. It looked so bad I’d almost been afraid to ask how things were going.

And wished I hadn’t, after I had.

"Carter?"

"Sir," she barely lifted her head to acknowledge my presence, peering down to watch Malak carefully twisting together two pieces of what looked like telephone wire.

"Progress?"

"None, Sir," she snapped.

"None, Major?"

She looked up then, not smiling, not looking happy at all. When Carter’s in the middle of what looks like a third grader’s science project and she’s not grinning like the Cheshire cat, things are definitely not going well. Not at all. "Ah, Sir, sorry, but we’re all a little frustrated here."

I nodded. "Nothing new then?"

"Nothing. Maybe the new crystals will help."

"Well, then, I’m off to get them."

That got her attention. "You, Sir?"

"Yes. I need a little break. Get out of the office, stretch the legs kind of thing, you know." I waved a hand at the DHD. "You stay here and keep working on that. Pierce is in charge of security, and he’s got things under control. Bra’tac and your father are helping him…"

"Right, Sir," she was distracted again, her mind already back worrying at the problem in front of her.

I sighed, thinking how like Daniel she was in that regard, so completely wrapped up in the technology in front of her that I’m not sure she’d have seen a whole herd of two-headed pink elephants stampeding past.

Unlike me, who can’t focus on anything for more than about 34 seconds, even on a good day. "You’ll figure it out, Major," I encouraged.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It was peaceful out in the woods, quiet.

So very soothing to be alone.

No one starting any fights.

No one needing me to do anything.

Nothing louder than my own quiet footfalls on the dirt path, some bird-like thing singing in the trees ahead of me, and the wind sighing softly through the trees.

Nice.

So very nice.

I should have known it wouldn’t last.

Probably shouldn’t have been out there all by myself, true, but there already weren’t enough Tau’ri to go around to try to keep the peace. And I was no Bambi strolling innocently through the woods. I had my P-90, my 9mm, a zat, my combat knife, and hand to hand combat skills including the knowledge of a dozen ways to kill someone with my bare hands without breaking a sweat.

Even then, it wasn’t enough.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Maybe it would have been enough if it weren’t for that double damned headache.

Despite the peace and fresh air of the forest, my head was still pounding. I kept marching right along, though, eyes and ears alert. The path climbed a small hill, and suddenly, halfway up, I realized I was, well, sort of fighting for breath. Like I didn’t quite have enough oxygen. And my legs felt, well, a little wobbly.

Odd.

Probably the oxygen content of the atmosphere. Hadn’t I read somewhere, in one of the endless reports of the survey teams, that this planet had a slightly lower amount of oxygen in the air than Earth did? Yes, contrary to public speculation about whether I read anything, I do read reports. The relevant ones at least. Including the ones all about this planet. I’d read them well enough, in fact, to remember not only the lower O-two comment, but that the same report had also stated it was not enough of a difference to be noticeable.

So why was I suddenly feeling like I was scaling Mt. Everest instead of a bleepin’ little hill that Granny Hartwick who lived down the street could undoubtedly climb with her walker?
‘You are slipping, Jack’ I told myself. ‘Too much time sitting behind a desk doing paperwork, too many nights on the couch in front of the TV, too many beers. And let’s not even bring up my friendly little visit with Ba’al, followed by my stay in the infirmary, and the sarcaphagus-addiction thing…

So I was a little out of shape.

It happens to the best of us.

Rationalizing. We all do it, don’t we?

Reaching the top of the hill, I found a convenient rock to sit on, just to rest a minute, I told myself. I drank from my canteen and made up for my skipped lunch with a power bar I’d purloined from the provisions cupboard.

Probably just the low blood sugar thing again, I told myself, making another mental note, this one not to skip any more meals for a while.

Ten minutes later, feeling better, I resumed my walk.

Thankfully, it was, literally, all down hill from there to the spot where Teal’c and the others were grubbing around in the dirt, digging out crystals.

Pretty, shiny, rocks, although these didn’t look so nice and smooth and flawless as the crystal I’d see on gould ships.

I pointed to the crystal being cleaned by one of the Tok’ra. "Will they work? They look… different."

"Yes, they are different, Colonel O’Neill," the Tok’ra agreed. "The imperfections will adversely affect their longevity and performance, but we only require opening the gate once…"

"Ah, actually, we’d really like the DHD to work all the time," I started. "We’re rather fond of this planet. Spent a lot on upgrading the place and all."

"Yes, Colonel O’Neill, we understand. But if we can leave here, we will be able to retrieve other crystals, and thereby restore the Dial Home Device to perfect working order."

"Good. That would be good." I reached a hand up and wiped sweat off my forehead, suddenly wondering when it had gotten so warm. "Real good."

"O’Neill, are you unwell?" Teal’c asked softly.

I hadn’t even noticed him coming up behind me. "I’m just peachy. As always," I answered glibly.

"You appear unrested."

"I’m fine."

"You do not look fine…"

Teal’c can never take a hint. "Okay, I didn’t sleep well. And today’s been a whole parade of unhappy, disenchanted folks all expecting me to solve their problems." I stopped, because I wasn’t going to whine, not in front of Teal’c. "I’ll be fine with a decent night’s sleep."

The Jaffa from Chulak seemed on the verge of saying something more when one of the Tok’ra brought over several more of the crystals. I took off my backpack and watched while the glass-like stones were packed into it. Teal’c helped me buckle the pack back on.

As I turned, I could see my teammate was still studying me closely. "I would be honored to accompany you back to the base if you wish, O’Neill," he offered.

"Nope. No need, T... No babysitting required. You just stay here and help keep the peace. I’ll get these to Carter so we can get the heck out of here." With what I hoped was a cheery little wave, I turned and started back to our base camp.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I started up the trail in fine order, striding along at my usual brisk pace. I walk a lot. I’m used to it. Despite the fact that I’m not as young as I used to be, and a series of rather, um… difficult… recent events, I’m pretty damn fit, and my long legs cover a lot of ground.

The first thing I noticed was that those little rocks in my backpack seemed awfully heavy, way heavier than I expected.

And the little hill was long and steep, longer and steeper than I remembered.

And the sun seemed hot, hotter than just that half hour or so before, when I’d walked this way.

I trudged up the hill, figuring things would get easier on the downhill side.

Wrong again, because about halfway down the hill, I suddenly found myself on my knees.

For no apparent reason.

Except, of course, for the fact that either we were having an earthquake, er, planet-quake, or I was dizzy, because the ground appeared to be moving in defiance of the normal steady state of soil, on every planet I’d ever visited, and that’s quite a few.

For a long moment, I closed my eyes, hands held to my forehead, then carefully, I opened them.

Things were still shimmying, but with a little concentration, I could make the ground and sky and trees stop spinning ‘round and ‘round.

For a bit.

Okay.

Time to take a rest.

I forced myself to my feet and carefully staggered a few feet over to where I could sit in the shade with my back against a big pine-type tree. I landed gracelessly with a sort of semi-controlled collapse when my vision went all gray and my legs all wobbly.

I could feel my heart pounding now, just like my head.

Since when did the Alpha Site have two suns? And each of my hands have 10 fingers? I tried to shake my head, and that just made things worse.

Way worse.

Damn. What was wrong with me? I hadn’t felt like this since… my heart skipped a beat…oh no, it couldn’t be... since Antarctica… when I was dying.

Oh good.

Real good.

Damn perfectly good.

Now this was the ultimate kick in the ass… ol’ Kanan getting his revenge? Sorry, bub, the cure was only temporary. Bad enough the little bastard took my body out for a joy ride to find his old girl friend, leaving me to the not so tender mercies of Ba’al, and now I was dying anyway?

After all I’d been through?

That snaky little son of a bitch hadn’t finished the job…

Got the last laugh on me after all, didn’t he?

The pain in my head spiked, and I could feel what seemed like every muscle in my whole body tremble, and things started swooping around again, and I let my head drop back to lean against the trunk of the tree, closing my eyes.

Bad mistake.

Of course, truth is, it wouldn’t have made any difference if I had left them open because there was, at that moment, nothing to see.

I was just sitting there, deciding whether or not I had the strength to upchuck, when it started.

The first thing was a tug, a hard pull on my vest.

My eyes popped wide open, and I looked over to my left shoulder. My radio was… gone, vanished out of the vest pocket, and then, suddenly, it was back, not on my shoulder but on the ground, in the dust of the trail about ten feet away, all smashed, like someone had stepped on it and ground the pieces into the dirt.

Okay, that was weird.

Really weird, in a disturbing sort of way, because despite all the really odd stuff I’d seen in my travels across the universe, radios that disappeared and reappeared and fell apart just didn’t happen.

Anywhere.

I was still contemplating the radio trick when something hit me, hard, in the chest, a thump against the stock of my P-90 followed by a sharp, piercing pain so strong it took my breath away.

And then an uncanny feeling, as if something, or someone was there, right in front of me. I could feel his or its, presence, in that sixth sense, eyes-in-the-back-of-my-head way that had saved my life in battle far too many times to be discounted.

It seemed that whatever it was, if there was something, was right in front of me.

Where I’d have to be blind not to see it.

But I couldn’t see anything there.

Admittedly my brain was not clicking on all cylinders at that moment, but I could see the trees and the rocks and the sky, so I knew my eyes were still working.

Looking down, there was a tear in my vest, right there where it hurt, and blood was leaking out… and I could feel pressure, like someone pressing something into my chest.

Why is it that, even when your body is completely out of whack and entirely beyond your control, that the pain sensors keep working just fine and dandy?

A surge of adrenaline giving me sudden strength, I pushed my hands out in front of me.

And encountered something solid.

Right there, smack dab in front of me.

Someone was there.

What the hell?

Delusion?

No delusion.

Too solid and too real to be a delusion.

The hole in my chest was real.

The blood was real.

The inability to breathe was real.

The pain was real.

Son of a bitch.

Stupid way to die, I thought.

And then something sort of shimmered and flickered at the edge of my vision, like a mirage, and I realized what it was.

An Ashrak.

But the Ashrak was dead, so…

There hadn’t been one, there’d been two!

He must have turned his invisibility device off because one minute the space in front of me was empty, and the next he was there. Standing about four feet away, the warrior looked down at me with a grin the likes of which I’d never wanted to see again, having seen one just like it on a certain asshole gould’s face that still haunted my dreams and probably always would.

He had one of those tattoo things in his forehead, like Teal’c, but his was an entirely different design. His voice was deep and venomous. "Know, O’Neill, that your death will be an instrument of great good for my master. Your death will provoke another war here, destroying these pitiful remnants of the Tok’ra and the traitorous Jaffa who would have defied their gods. And while they are busy fighting each other once again, I will travel through the gate, and wreak havoc throughout *your* world."

He stepped forward, knife in hand.

I looked up into my own death.

But I wouldn’t meet it meekly.

While he’d been talking, his eyes on my face, I’d ever so slowly brought my hand around, my fingers sliding forward to grip my 9mm.

He stepped forward, once again raising his knife.

I shot him.

Unfortunately, what with being dizzy, sick, bleeding and about to pass out, the shot didn't quite hit him dead center enough to kill him. Jaffa aren’t easy to kill, even with a well placed bullet.

He staggered and went down to one knee, a cry of rage bubbling up out of his throat.

I pulled the trigger again, missing him completely that time, and the third bullet hit him in the arm.

He screamed, and turned and ran.

Saving his own life.

Probably too late to save my own.

Funny, it was getting dark.

Very, very dark, like someone was closing a very, very black curtain around me.

I felt lethargic.

I looked down at my chest, watching the blood welling slowly.

Knew I should do something to stop it.

Knew that there was something else I should be doing.

Something important.

Very important.

Suddenly too heavy to sit upright, I slid slowly down to lie flat on the ground, looking up at the darkening sky. God, the sky was beautiful, so blue and pure and clean.

I felt myself drifting, my brain shutting down, my body going numb.

Funny, it didn't make the pain in my chest go away.

Intensified it, actually.

And then my sluggish brain remembered.

Ashrak.

Another Ashrak.

No one else knew.

They'd open the gate.

It would get through to Earth.

I had to stop them.

Stop it.

Radio.

I could call them, tell them.

But the radio was broken, lying in front of me in tiny little pieces that not even Carter could put back together.

I had to tell them.

I tried.

Somewhere, somehow, I pulled my knees up under me and leaning against the tree, weaving, I got upright.

God, breathing hurt.

Gritted my teeth, braced myself to take a hesitant step.

It’s one of the oldest clichés in the old cliché book… a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.

And in this case, ended, too, because I took that first step, and then I felt my knees buckle and my legs give way and I just sort of folded up and landed in a heap, my face in the dirt.

Get up, damn you, I ordered myself.

Ain’t gonna do it, my body answered.

Move. Start somewhere, anywhere. Make something move.

I looked at my hand and willed it to start the motion, to respond, but all it did was sort of flop uselessly in the dirt.

And then I quit thinking about my hand or anything else because the pain was surging, bringing with it the smothering black wall, deeper and darker than night, rolling forward and swallowing me whole....

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sometimes, you get damn lucky.

I didn't know how lucky until a long time later, when the others explained it to me.

I’d passed out, and was probably only minutes from dying, when Teal'c saved the day.

Totally inadvertently, of course, not that it matters, because saved is saved.

What he had done, totally unknowingly, was to send my rescuer to find me. Actually, only 15 minutes or so after I'd left the crystal mining site, Teal’c had sent one of the Tok'ra after me, because they'd found one more crystal, better than all the others.

Teal'c sent Ashann after me, figuring the Tok'ra would catch up to me long before I made it back to camp.

He was right, of course, but not in the way he expected.

Ashann found me, bleeding and unconscious, and carried me all the way back to the Alpha Site.

And damned near got lynched for it.

I mean, considering all the trouble we'd just had, it wasn’t unexpected: a Tok'ra hurries into camp carrying a bloody and unconscious human, and the reaction was a little, ah, exaggerated.

Guess those Jaffa like me better than I figured.

Somehow, though, Bra’tac and Jacob got both sides to back off and Ashann handed me off to Doc.

He got locked up for his trouble in saving me, because there was no explanation for my condition. So they blamed it on him.

Me, I woke up in Doc's clutches.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I think I came around when Doc stuck that big honkin' needle in me, because in a perfectly natural reaction to how much that felt like someone had just stuck a knife into me, again, I tried to jump off that damn table. Didn't succeed of course, though that might have had something to do with the fact that my muscles felt like mush and my brain was more than a little foggy because not enough oxygen was feeding through to my brain cells.

I managed a feeble sounding moan, and got my eyes open. Totally disoriented, not knowing how I'd changed places from lying in the dust of the forest to lying half naked on a hospital bed, bright lights overhead, people shouting, words flying back and forth over my head, something being put over my face, ahh, yes, I knew what that was, an oxygen mask.

That extra air helped.

A little.

But I needed to tell them... I *had* to tell them....

I tried to move my hands, reaching for the mask, trying to pull it away but my fingers weren't working very well, all stiff and fumbling and hard to control, and then someone was grabbing my hand and pulling it away, holding it, telling me to stop.

I mouthed the words, desperate for someone to hear me and understand, but I didn't have enough air to make myself heard above the racket going on around me.

I'll give Doc credit, though, she noticed.

"Colonel?"

I tried again to form the words.

"Colonel? Hold on. We’re helping you…"

"Ashhh...." Damn. I couldn't get the word out. Couldn't. Tried again. "Ashhhh..." My tongue felt all thick and twisted and I had to suck for a deep breath that wasn't there and the blackness was back hovering just there, just waiting to overwhelm me, but I couldn't let it, not yet, and I tried again and again... "Aaaa," Damn. The black was back, advancing towards me once again. Not now. Not now. Not now, damn it. No! I need a minute here, just a minute.

"Colonel, lie still. We know it was Ashann who attacked you..."

Ashann? Who the hell was Ashann? I didn't know any Ashann. It was the Ashrack. "Ashhh..."

Doc looked away, said something to someone behind her, then turned back to me. "Colonel, we need to get you into surgery. Now." She had a needle in her hand, full of something, and I watched helplessly as she reached for the IV taped to the back of my hand, and injected the stuff into me.

Sedative.

Knocking me out.

She hadn't listened.

No one had heard.

No one knew.

There was another Ashrak.

I made one last desperate try. I managed to lift my shoulders, to mouth the words behind the obscuring oxygen mask, and no one heard, no one saw.

As the drug took effect, I heard Doc say, "Let's get him intubated. Now. Before he crashes…"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I was scattered, like parts of my brain were here, and parts over there and some parts I weren’t sure existed at all anymore. I felt like I was floating, my body pretty much detached from my gray matter, so out of synch that I couldn't move at all, not even to open my eyes. I could feel my body working, though, mechanically, breathing and pumping blood, carrying on quite entirely without any input from me.

No output, either.

Couldn’t so much as lift a finger.

Oddly, it didn’t bother me, not in the least.

Really good drugs will do that to you.

I hovered there a long time, just there, existing, and then the connection began to return, a part of it at least.

Not enough to open my eyes. Not enough to move anything else, either. But enough that I could hear.

Way too well.

That voice.

God, no.

Not again not again not again. I struggled, desperate to move, to get away, to flee, but nothing worked yet. I tried to calm myself, convince myself that I was only having a nightmare, that was it, this was a nightmare...

No. Wait, that’s not his voice. Close, sounds so very much like him, but it’s not, it’s not Ba’al’s evil, oily, deathly voice.

Thank God.

Listen.

Concentrate.

It was a voice I knew.

It was the Tok’ra guy, Malak. "Doctor, how long before Colonel O’Neill will be able to tell us what happened?"

"I don’t know. Not soon," Doc answered. "His condition is still unstable and critical."

Oh, boy, that was reassuring. Thanks, Doc.

Footsteps, the sound and feel of more people entering the room, a couple at least. Sheesh, how many people were here? What was this, some weird alien ritual, stand around and watch the sick guy try to breathe?

"The camp is restless," that gruff voice I knew was Bra’tac. "O’Neill has kept the peace among us, because all sides respect him. Even with Teal’c’s assistance, it is hard to convince the Jaffa not to retaliate against the Tok’ra."

"There is no evidence Ashann did this," Malak snapped.

"He was the only other one along that trail. The Ashrak is dead. All the Jaffa and humans have been accounted for…"

"Ashann brought O’Neill here for treatment, saving his life. Why would he do that if he had been the one who injured him?" Malak demanded.

"I do not know," Bra’tac answered. "I only know that we need to discover the truth. Quickly. Before tempers flare once more."

I heard footsteps then, several people leaving, but little noises told me that one remained.

Jacob’s voice sounded tired. "Damn it, Jack, how do you get yourself into such messes?"

I don’t do it on purpose, I thought lazily. Honest, I don’t.

"We need you out there, not lying here, you know that? I know you always downplay your contributions, and what you mean to everyone out there, but all of us, humans, Tok’ra, Jaffa, you’ve earned their respect," he chuckled. "God knows why, what with the way you act sometimes, but the truth is, we’re all smart enough to see through that I-don’t-give-a-damn façade you put up."

Funny, lying here, unable to breathe on my own, hooked up to machines and doped up to the gills, and it was someone’s words that were making me uncomfortable. Go figure.

"I know things have been a bit rough for you lately…"

A bit rough? Oh, now there’s an understatement, Jacob…

"But I also know you won’t quit when you’re needed, and you *are* needed. You’ve already saved our butts once, by keeping the peace. I’m sure you think that just anyone could have done it, but you’d be wrong there, Jack." I heard rustling noises, like he was moving around. "Guess Kanan should have stayed."

Ah, nope, no way Jose. You got that bit wrong, Jacob, way wrong. Dead wrong. No sneaky snaky thing is gonna take up permanent residence in my head.

I know I said this before, but I meant it then and I mean it even more now.

No snakes. Ever again.

Over my dead body.

Which, it seemed, might still be the case.

Oiy.

Hadn’t I done this already? Deja view and all that?

Fade to black.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The voices were back. "How is he doing?" I recognized that was Doc speaking.

A voice I didn't know answered, a woman's voice, and I realized it must have been one of the nurses. "He's the same, doctor. His vitals are still fluctuating."

"I'd sure like to see his bp come up." I felt a hand touch mine, fingers resting firmly against my wrist. That had to be Doc, taking my pulse. Despite all the machines and whatnot I knew were hooked up to me, Doc always likes to do things the old fashioned way, using her own senses. Her hand moved away from my wrist, but I could tell that she was still nearby. Her hand touched my shoulder, then moved up to my forehead, brushing my hair back. Funny how I could feel what she was doing, and not be able to so much as twitch.

I didn't like it much. Oh, the touch was fine, soothing and comforting, though I’d never admit to that out loud. What I instinctively didn’t like was the situation, being helpless, not having control.

And then my semi-functional gray matter managed to put a couple of brain cells together to form a coherent thought, and I remembered.

Son of a bitch.

The Ashrak!

I don't think I moved so much as tensed up, but it was too late. Doc had moved, moved away, but the monitors, those damned annoying things, started to speed up.

"What?" I heard Doc say, heard her footsteps move back close beside me. "Nurse, isn't he..."

She didn't finish because suddenly, somehow, I made the connection, mind to body. I tried to speak and gagged, realizing there was something obstructing my throat. My hand felt like a lead weight but I reached instinctively for my throat.

Tube.

In my throat.

Been here, done this, didn't like it then and sure as hell don't like it now and I've got to tell...

My eyes popped open even as I felt my throat spasm, my hands grasping feebly at the tube...

Hands were grabbing mine, pulling them away. "Nurse...," Doc was shouting, "more Versed. Get him back under..."

No. No. No!

I tried again to talk but I couldn't. I could feel my heart pounding, suddenly frantic because I could feel more sedative once again taking away my control, taking away.... No. Damn. No....No... No… you have to listen… No!

Unable to fight the drugs, unable to do anything, I drifted off into a very odd twilight place, not at all like anything I'd ever experienced before, unable to move but not unconscious either.

Still knowing what I knew.

Knowing how important it was to tell.

Not knowing how.

Listening.

Doc's voice again. "He shouldn't be awake."

Gee, Doc, I'm not really, I thought.

"Was he agitated before?"

"No, Ma'am," the other female voice added. "He was quiet until just a few minutes ago."

"Well, he'll be out for hours now with the dose I gave him this time. I can't understand how he managed that as it was. It's not unusual for him to wake up combative, but not this soon. He shouldn't have been awake for hours yet." She sounded puzzled.

Oh, God, hours like this, aware and helpless and needing to tell them… I was gonna go nuts.

"I don't like his elevated heart rate. It's almost like he's fighting the sedative." I felt her hand touch my arm, heard her gentle voice. "Colonel, don't be so stubborn. Let the drugs do their work."

Stubborn? Okay, so I know I'm stubborn, but this is important...

Time passed slowly, I drifted in and out. Each time I floated up near the surface, I tried and tested, swimming against the tide.

Failing to reach the surface.

And then, finally, it happened again.

My body responded.

My eyes opened.

Step one achieved.

The room was dimly lit. Monitors beeped, making cute little squiggly lines across the screen. Even as I watched they increased in tempo.

No one came this time, but I could hear them, hear hushed, harried voices somewhere just out of my sight. Working on another patient.

Step two, I desperately needed to get rid of that damn tube that was choking me.

Acting without thought, my hands raised of their own accord, fingers tearing clumsily at the tubing. Fumbling, fingers slipping, no thought to the consequences, I pulled.

It was a stupid thing to do, because it worked.

Feeling like sandpaper shredding my throat, it came out.

My airway spasmed.

I tried to breathe, tried being the operative word.

And failed.

Somehow I managed to take a breath, a shallow, worthless, not hardly a molecule of air reaching my lungs breath. Tried again. And again. Same result.

And with horror realized I couldn't.... breathe...enough... to... do... any... bleepin' ... good.

Panic set in, my heart pounding wildly, ineffectually, because I didn't have the strength to breathe...oh God oh God oh God... things were going gray and the blackness was right there, on the fringes of my vision…my lungs hurt, my heart hurt… oh God oh God oh God… Move. Breathe. Damn it. Move. Do something… breathe… need air… can’t…oh crap… oh God oh God oh God…

I tried to reach the call button. Couldn’t. Didn’t. My hand wasn’t working too well, further impeded by the drag of the IV lines and that ridiculously heavy clip thingy on my finger. Desperately I reached out, flung my arm outward in frustration, knocking the call button out of my reach. And then, purely by accident, my flailing hand hit the little table beside my bed and I heard something fly off of it and hit the floor with a crash loud enough to wake the dead and then more voices, yelling words I couldn't make out against the grayness swallowing my brain and I couldn't die because I had to tell them about the Ashrak and damn it, breathe Jack, and my lungs wouldn't work and this was a stupid way to die... and suddenly there was Doc, looking down at me with a panicked look on her face that matched my own and that's never a good thing when your doctor looks at you like that... and damn it, help me Doc... I can't breathe... I'm dying here... Doc, no joke... dying... here... help me... I hate that freakin' thing but put it back... put it back... please... damn... I can't tell anyone anything if I'm dead, I can't tell you about the Ashrak...

The blackness won.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I was surprised to wake up. Well, okay, I wasn’t really awake yet, still caught in that odd, disassociated, out of body feeling. But I knew I was still alive. And aware of what was happening.

The tube was back. Crap. I blinked, got my eyes half open, rolling my head to the side, feeling the tug of the tube pull against the raw tissues of my throat.

Once more, though I knew I needed it, my hands reached for that damned choking plastic...

"Doctor Fraiser! He's waking up again," the nurse's voice sounded loud across the room.

"Damn," I heard Doc say. "Colonel, what are you trying to do to us?"

I got my eyes open just in time to look up into her startled face.

"Colonel? Nurse, get that Versed..."

No. Frantically, I raised my trembling hands again, reaching for hers, her hand intercepting my arm. "Colonel, we can't take the tube out. You aren't strong enough to breathe without it yet."

I stared up at her, into her eyes, pleading wordlessly with her not to put me under again because I had to tell them before it was too late, before they opened the gate and let the Ashrak get into the SGC...

"Nurse, hurry with that!"

The nurse was there, behind Doc, with another needle.

Frantically, I tried to move to shake my head no. Blinked my eyes, over and over again, in pairs of two, trying to maintain eye contact, trying to tell her to stop. Doc, remember, the old blink once for yes, twice for no? We’ve done that before. We have. Remember? I remember.

Please, Doc.

Please.

Listen.

Watch.

She didn't understand.

No!

I went under once again.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Be smarter this time, Jack.

Be calm.

Think your way through this.

Use those underused brain cells.

Doc was back, talking to herself like she was talking to me, even though I knew she thought I couldn't hear. "Colonel, what's up? This isn't making any sense. Something odd is going on here. You shouldn't have come around the first time, much less the second. I've checked the IV lines, double checked the dosages. The drugs aren't outdated, they're from the last shipment I brought here myself. So how did you wake up, Sir? Huh?" She was patting my arm again, that little reassuring motion she uses when she's really worried. She raised her voice. "Nurse, draw some blood, will you? I'm going to run another lab series." Her voice softened. "Colonel, we'll figure this out. You relax and let us take care of things, okay? Fighting us isn't helping. We're all on the same side."

Yes, Doc, we are. I just need you to understand.

To listen.

To help me.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I had a plan.

Wait.

Be patient.

Hoard my strength.

Don't fight the machines, don't fight the tube.

Do that zen thing, Jack, the one you learned to do all those years ago, zoning out. Find that place deep inside yourself where only you can go. Detach, mind from body, body from mind. Teal’c taught you once, too, after Machello’s machine, when you were in his body and he was in yours and you had to do kelno’reem.

You can do this.

You can.

Stay there, in your quiet space.

Don't fight the tube.

Damn. Just thinking about it made me aware of it once more, brought back the choking, gagging sensation.

So don't think!

Zone out.

Float.

Be calm.

Be free.

Put your mind to something else, to an achievable goal.

Open the eyes.

Hey, yup, that worked.

Eyes open, focused.

Now the hand.

Move the hand.

Right hand.

That way, toward the bedside table, toward the chart.

Pen atop the chart.

Focus.

Concentrate.

Shut everything else out.

Progress. The hand was moving, ever so slowly, but it was moving.

Reaching.

Touching the pen.

Touching... fumbling… weak and shaking.

Can't pick it up. Can't. Damn.

Frustration.

I wanted to scream, to shout... wrong thought... lost the focus, let the mind wander back to the breathing thing and I lost it. My throat muscles spasmed.

Choking.

Desperate to cough.

Monitors blaring but all I could hear was the pounding inside my own head...

"Colonel.. damn, not again. More Versed. Stat!"

No, Doc, please, no.

I pleaded with my eyes, latched onto her face, raising a thousand pound hand to clutch at hers.

"Colonel?" there was surprise in her voice as she looked at me.

Summoning up all my strength, I manage to point at my mouth.

"No, Sir, I'm sorry, I know what you want but I can't take the tube out yet. You can't breathe on your own. I'm running tests, I've found an unknown substance in your blood, I think it's causing muscle weakness and possibly interfering with the sedatives, that's why you keep waking up. You shouldn’t be awake, Colonel."

Damn damn damn. I kept waking up because I needed to talk, needed to get the word out, needed to make them understand, needed to prevent them from opening the gate.

I could feel my chest tightening, my body fighting the mechanical assistance that was keeping me alive. The monitors were screeching like a whole regiment of bagpipes.

"Colonel, I have to put you under again."

All I could do was blink no, over and over again.

"I have to, Colonel. It's okay."

No, it's not okay. I closed my eyes, more frustrated than I'd ever been in my whole life. Why couldn't she listen? Why did she think I was just fighting blindly? Listen, damn it Doc.

She was holding my hand in hers, and that gave me an idea. I opened my eyes, staring into hers once more, moving my fingers, tracing a letter against her palm.

Her eyes went wide. "Colonel, you're trying to tell me something? You need to tell me something?"

I blinked once. Deliberately.

Doc nodded. "Blink once for yes, two for no? Is that right, Colonel?"

I blinked, once. Relieved.

"Is it about how you were injured?"

I blinked once again, tried to use my finger like a pen to 'write' against her hand, making a shaky letter A.

"A? That's who stabbed you?" Doc nodded. "We know that Colonel, the Tok'ra Ashann is under arrest."

I blinked twice, for no.

"Colonel? That's not who attacked you?" Surprise showed in her face.

I blinked two times.

"It was someone else?"

Blinked once. Hard to believe, but my eyes were incredibly tired, heavy.

"Another Tok'ra?"

I blinked twice.

"One of the Jaffa?"

Two more blinks for no.

"One of us humans?" she looked really shocked now.

Blinked twice again, and my eyes were watering, and I couldn’t stop blinking.

Damn it.

Now she looked confused. "Colonel, I don't understand. It wasn't one of us humans, it wasn't a Tok'ra and it wasn't a Jaffa? Sir, that can't be."

I could see the doubt forming on her face, see her dismissing me as confused and drugged out, incapable of making sense. My eyes leaking moisture and wildly going blink blink blink weren’t helping.

Once again, I drew the letter A on her hand, tried to make an S, concentrating as hard as I could to make an R, and then my strength and body control just gave out, my hand shaking so hard I couldn't control my fingers any more.

And then I felt my throat start to tickle and I couldn't contain it all anymore, and then Doc was talking and I tried to make her stop, tried to tell her no, and failed completely and the blackness was back as the damned drugs carried me away, kicking and screaming and fighting, on the inside at least.

On the outside, I was still and quiet and unmoving.

Again.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I was so sick of this.

Floating.

Helpless.

Listening in but unable to do anything.

And then I heard more voices.

Doc, and someone else.

That voice was Carter’s. "So how is he?"

"I don't know, Sam. He keeps fighting the sedatives. I've never seen anything like this. Whatever that foreign substance is in his blood, it's interfering with the medications. I've upped the sedative doses again and again, but each time he keeps fighting through them. And then he comes around, looking panicked. Earlier I thought he was trying to tell me something about who attacked him, but it didn't make any sense."

"Why not?" Carter asked.

"When I asked if he was hurt by Ashann, he indicated no. But then he told me no when I asked if it was another Tok'ra, a Jaffa, or a human. It's possible that, even though he appears to be aware of what he's communicating, that he really isn't. And yet..." Doc paused.

"Janet?"

"He seemed so lucid, Sam, he really seemed to understand. He seemed almost, well, desperate to tell me something."

"Maybe he is."

"I don't know."

"Janet, maybe there was some native being..."

"No one's reported seeing anything unusual in all the months we've had personnel stationed here."

"I know, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something here. It’s a big planet and we’ve explored only a tiny bit of it. How long would you have to be on Earth before you found elephants, or grizzly bears?" She paused. "When will he be able to talk?"

"Honestly, I don’t know. Much as I'd like to take him off the respirator, I can’t, not yet, not when I don’t know what’s causing his muscle weakness and breathing difficulty. Once he's back at the SGC, we'll be able to do more for him, run additional tests and figure our what's really going on. I thought we had adequate medical equipment and facilities here, but this case has shown me otherwise. That's a good thing, at least."

"Janet, we all know you've been running short-handed since the Tok'ra arrived. No one expects you to work miracles here."

"My patients do, Sam."

I heard one of them sigh.

"Well, I should get back. Dad says we'll be ready to try the gate in another hour or so..."

An hour? They were going to try the gate? No... damn it. No. They can’t!

I forced my way upward through the cotton/fog/clouds/smothering blanket that separated me from my body. Not that I had much control yet, but I could do something, if nothing more than force my way back to the edge of consciousness.

Which caused my heart to race, making the monitors go nuts.

Attracting Doc and Carter to my bedside.

"Damn, here he goes again."

Even before I could get my eyes open, I was shaking my head no, my fingers spasming into fists.

"Colonel, don't fight, please, Sir, don't fight."

Damn, I had to fight. I had to communicate, had to make them listen, make them understand.

Had to make them keep the gate closed.

Somehow.

"Sir?"

I forced my eyes open, looking up into Carter's startled face.

Concentrate, damn it, that was the problem, every freakin' time I came around I was trying to do too many things, my fragile control of my body preventing me from succeeding at any of them.

I couldn't fail this time.

The stakes were far too high.

I blinked, giving her my best Colonel's glare.

"Janet?" she was looking over at Doc.

Doc, who had another syringe in her hand.

No.

I heard the monitors accelerate again, saw Doc's face tighten with resolve.

Damn it, man, get yourself under control.

Forced myself to relax, don't ask me how, but I did.

Heard the beeping ease, slow, then fall back into a steady rhythm.

Tried not to think, just be.

Staring up at them.

"Sir, did one of the Tok'ra attack you?" Carter was asking this time.

Actually achieved a headshake no this time.

"Was it one of the Jaffa?"

Shook my head no again.

"Was it one of us, Sir, a human?"

I moved my head side to side.

"Was it a native creature?"

Another headshake.

She looked puzzled. "Sir, do you understand what I asked?"

I nodded.

"So who was it?"

I wanted to scream. Damn it Carter, don’t ask me questions I can't answer.

Doc stepped up beside her. "Sam..."

I stared at Doc, then up at Carter, rolling my eyes, looking from Carter down to Doc's hands, hands that held my chart and a pen.

"Sir? I don't understand."

Dense, Carter, don't be so dense! I wanted to shout at her, deliberately moved my eyes from her face to Doc's hand. Again. And again.

Pen. Chart. Paper. Ink. Let me write...

I raised my hand, tried to make a writing motion, looking from my trembling hand to Doc's hand holding the pen.

Suddenly, I saw the light go on in Fraiser's head. She uncapped the pen, opened the chart and ripped out a sheet of paper, turning it over to give me a blank side to write on. Carter held the paper, and Doc put the pen into my hand, guiding it to the paper.

My fingers slipped. How the hell could doing something so simple as gripping a pen be so impossible? I felt my throat tighten, felt my control slipping, and my reflexes threaten to take over.

Damn. Not now. Not when I was so close.

And then there was a hand over mine, Doc’s warm gentle hand helping me hold the pen. Shakily, I made an A, at least I hoped it was recognizable as an A, and then an S and an R and a K.

"A… S… R… K?" The two women looked at each other, Carter's face looking terribly disappointed. "Sir, there’s no one by that name…" and then she paused, thinking. "The Ashrak?"

I nodded.

Carter’s face fell, disappoint plain. "We killed the Ashrak two days ago, Sir. Before you were hurt. Don’t you remember? It couldn't possibly have done this..."

I was shaking my head again, frantic to get them to listen, losing control once more, fighting myself, fighting my panic, angry and frustrated at my failure to communicate.

At their failure to understand.

I held up two fingers, sloppily, but it was two, yes, it was.

"Yes, Sir, two days ago."

No! I wanted to throw something. I wanted to throttle them. I wanted to shout and… and all I succeeded in doing was losing it myself, losing the battle with that infernal machine, spiraling downward into the blackness one more time, aware of the consequences, and completely helpless to stop them.

The last thing I heard was Doc's voice. "Sam, I think he meant that there was another Ashrak."

Bless you, Doc…

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I came to fighting.

Completely out of control this time.

Unable to stop myself.

Desperate to do something, anything.

And it was too late.

They'd figured it out.

While I was out one more time, they'd finally understood.

Realized they couldn't dial up the gate, at least not without Carter's fancy Ashrak detection doohickey turned on.

Lured the damn thing in and killed it.

Got the gate working, and sent the casualties, including me, home.

All the while, I was blissfully unaware of the whole business, because the drug that had been on that first Ashrak's knife, where he'd just scratched my chest, had finally worn off.

The sedatives kicked in, and I mean kicked in, like a mule connecting to the head.

I slept for four days.

Soundly.

Like a rock.

Not even getting anywhere near awake.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I woke up at last in the familiar surroundings of the SGC infirmary, hearing those too familiar words once more.

"Doctor Fraiser, he's waking up."

This time, when I got the eyes open, Doc was smiling at me. "Sir, we can get that tube out now if you'd like."

If I'd like? As if she had to ask.

I nodded.

She did some stuff out of my sight, and then, "Breathe out," she ordered and pulled.

I retched against the feel of plastic sliding up and out of my throat, gasping for air that, this time, thank God, was there.

Gulped.

Breathed.

Breathed again.

Croaked out the word, needing to know. "Ashhhra…?" The word morphed into a cough.

"Yes, Colonel, we got the second Ashrak. Thanks to you."

I sighed and sank back down on the bed.

"You did good, Sir." Doc was smiling, offering me ice chips. I sucked on them greedily, savoring the ability to swallow, and the smooth feel of air moving, unrestricted, in and out of my throat.

Glad to be home.

Glad to be alive.

Glad to be heard.

Maybe my karma wasn’t so bad after all.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\The End/\/\/\/\/\/\/\