A Little Misunderstanding

Author: BadgerGater

Email: [email protected]

Category: Adventure, drama,

Rating: PG

Season: Three, Sam's a major

Summary: SG-1 meets a new race who take an instant dislike to Colonel O'Neill

Badger wrote it, so you ought to know by now that Jack's gonna be having a rough day

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

Authors Notes: Once again, major thank you’s to my betas-- Tanya, Corine and Carol--- Happy New Year

"Hey, leave him alone!"

That's where all the trouble started, at least as far as I was concerned, with those four little words.

P3G-something was supposed to be a routine planetary survey. The UAV showed some interesting looking villages near the gate, and some seemingly peaceful people living there. Daniel got all excited, well, yeah, he gets excited a lot, about finding people, and seeing some drawings he could just make out on the houses in the village.

So, we stepped out of the wormhole to a peaceful enough looking welcoming party. The folks were dressed in what I'm sure was their Sunday best, it looked like, to greet these visitors from the ring.

We've been greeted a lot of different ways-- as gods, as friends, as enemies; with guns, smiles, friendliness, hostility, quiet, and fear. Sometimes the people hide from us, sometimes they shoot at us, sometimes they want to bow down and treat us like gods; most times they wait, patiently, to see who we are and what we want.

Still, it's always a dicey moment, that first contact that I always hope doesn't turn into confrontation. Now Daniel, ever the optimist, he sees that moment as one of high expectations. To this day, I can't convince him that not everyone or everything in the universe is eager to be friends, but he just doesn't get it. Me, I always figure anything I meet out there is far more likely to want humans for dinner than to invite them to dinner, ya know?

Sum it up this way: Daniel's version of beings from outer space is ET; mine is Aliens. On PCP.

We came out onto the gate ramp, and everyone just kind of stood there, looking back and forth at one another. I didn't see any weapons, noted nothing that looked hostile. So far, so good.

Daniel stepped forward, smiling as usual, like a kid entering a candy store. "Hi, we're peaceful travelers from Earth."

More silence.

"I'm Daniel," he said, pointing to himself. He pointed at me. "That's Colonel O'Neill." I gave the crowd a little wave, and a smile, "Hi. Call me Jack."

"And that's Major Carter," she smiled, nodded as Jackson pointed at her, didn't lower her weapon while she did. Good work, Major.

Daniel finished by pointing out the big Jaffa. "And he's Teal'c." I have got to get the big guy to work on that smile, I thought to myself.

The natives were still looking at each other, bewilderment on their faces, obviously not impressed by the introductions. One man stepped forward, said something I didn't understand. That's nothing new, of course, so I turned to our resident linguist/alien speak expert. "Daniel?"

The smile was still pasted on his face. "This doesn't sound like any language I know," he said, surprised.

I turned to our teammate from Chulak. "Teal'c?"

"It is unfamiliar to me as well, Colonel O'Neill."

Oh, good. Where's a good universal translator when you need one? James T. Kirk never had this trouble on StarTrek, and he was just a mere Captain.

Daniel was trying more languages. I recognized Abydonian, and German, and French and something Eastern, Chinese I think it was.

The natives were just staring, no glimmer of recognition on their faces.

Daniel was still trying, the smile on his face losing a little of its luster as he was rapidly running through all 23 languages he knew, and a couple more where his knowledge went no further than Hello, how the heck are ya?

That's when the back of my neck began to itch, the way it always does when the shit's about to hit the fan. It's one of the things that's kept me alive this long, the ability to sense when the crowd is about to turn hostile. And my sensors were suddenly going off loud and clear. I could feel the tension building.

Very quietly, I said to Carter, "Major, try to ease your way toward the DHD, would you?" I muttered to her, trying to keep the smile on my face. "Daniel, I don't think this is working."

"But Jack, there's really nothing--"

"I think now would be a good time to remember discretion is the better part of valor and make a strategic retreat," I told him softly. "You just keep talking while we..."

And that's when the big guy grabbed Daniel.

And I yelled, "Hey, leave him alone."

Some days, I should just keep my mouth shut.

Because suddenly these quiet, peaceful people started shooting at us, specifically at me. I guess the guy with the loudest yell gets the most attention, that's what I would have done if I'd been the one planning this ambush-- shot the one who was giving orders. It's one of the oldest military tactics in the book, and it's there because in most cases, it's effective. Start at the top, disrupt the chain of command, leave the troops leaderless: there's at least a dozen cliches for this one.

Just then, I saw a guy pull this odd looking, awkward looking blunderbuss type gun out from under his cloak, and three or four were more making the same move. I yelled, "look out," pushing Daniel down, out of the way.

I felt the bullet hit before I heard the first gunshot, felt it punch into my right shoulder, tear through tissue, muscle and bone as it spun me around and knocked me to the ground. It actually saved my life, I supposed, because I heard two more bullets whip past my head as I was hitting the ground.

"Go," I yelled, and felt someone grab my left arm, pulling me along, as we ran toward the cover of the nearby woods. (I will never, ever again, complain about a planet with trees, I promise myself.)

Carter was providing covering fire, as was Teal'c, so that meant it was Daniel who was all but dragging me toward the shelter of the woods.

Just inside the trees, Daniel stopped and I suddenly found myself down on the ground again, as Carter and Teal'c raced to join us.

"Jack?" Daniel was trying to open my vest and take a look at my shoulder.

"We don't have time for that," I panted. "We gotta go. Now. Come on."

"Jack, you're bleeding."

I looked down to where the blood had run across my left hand, the one that was clutching my right shoulder where the numbness was quickly disappearing into waves of pain. "Oh, you don't think this is the ketchup from my Happy Meal?" I said with a grimace.

"I need to stop the bleed--"

"It's nothing," I said, looking back at the clearing where it appeared the natives were cautiously working their way toward the woods, having discovered our weapons had a longer range than theirs did, at least out here in the open. "We've got to go."

He helped me up, steadied me as the ground shifted beneath me and I staggered, trying to keep my feet. Just got up too fast, I told myself. Come on Jack, get with it. Time to vamoose.

All four of us together now, we worked our way into the woods, Teal'c on point. He found a small game trail, made by some unknown wild animal, and we started down it, jogging at the best pace I could manage, Daniel still keeping a firm grip on my left arm.

I'm not sure how long we traveled, before Teal'c called a halt. Over the sound of our harsh breathing, I could hear the distant sounds of pursuit. "I'm okay. It's just a little nick," I gasped before they could ask. "Let's go. Move."

We pushed on, crossed another game trail, doubled back to switch to it, the Jaffa leading us deeper into the gloom of the huge forest. All we needed to make this complete was Robin Hood and his merry men, I thought. I shook my head, lost my balance, looked down for the tree roots that must be tripping me up, saw nothing but my boots and the dust...

Next thing I knew, I was lying face down in the dirt of the forest floor, Daniel worriedly calling "Jack, Jack? Come on, wake up. Jack."

"Mmm," I groaned, pushed myself up with my left hand, as Daniel helped me to sit up. Pain stabbed through me, from my shoulder down into my back. "Oh God," it hurt, sheesh, it hurt and I bit my lip to stop myself from saying more.

Carter handed her gun to Daniel, pointed up the trail, "watch there," she told him, then knelt down beside me. "Sir, let me look at your shoulder." I know she tried to be gentle as she opened my vest and pulled back my shirt. "Oww, dammit Carter," I said, surprised at how soft my voice sounded. "OWW!"

The front of my shirt was soaked with blood, and there was a quite small but very nasty looking hole in my shoulder, just below my collarbone. Blood was oozing out at an alarming rate, I thought idly.

Carter had pulled out the first aid kit, grabbing disinfectant and a bandage. "This will sting, Sir."

It did. I tried not to yell, not with who knew how many natives in hot pursuit, but "Holy Buckets, Carter, are you trying to kill me?" I gasped.

Her face looked grim. That's a bad sign, I thought. "Sorry Sir. I've got to apply some pressure on this to stop the bleeding," she warned, and pressed her hand in against my shoulder. Maybe I should have told her I thought my collarbone was broken, but it was too late.

Pain exploded through me, like fire, and the world spun, tilted, righted itself as I moaned.

"Think you should give him some morphine?" Daniel asked.

"No," I said, my voice suddenly thick. "That will knock me out, I won't be able to move. Just give me whatever other stuff we've got and I'll be okay."

Carter's eyes said she didn't believe the okay part, but she nodded, put the morphine ampoule away, and pulled out a couple of what looked like Tylenol. She handed me her canteen to wash them down, and I gulped the pills and the water.

"Look, I can't outrun them, you go on," I said, stating the obvious.

"No way we're leaving you behind, Jack," Daniel insisted.

"They'll catch all of us..."

"No, Sir," said Carter, "we'll split up. Teal'c and I will lay a trail, draw them away, while you and Daniel wait here until it's clear. Once they're following us, you go back to the gate, go home. We'll catch up later."

"We shouldn't separate," I mumbled, but it seemed suddenly no one was listening to me.

"It's the only way, Sir," said Carter, concern on her face.

Teal'c pointed toward a hill off to our left, "perhaps you can find shelter there, Daniel Jackson," he said. "We will cover your trail.

Teal'c helped me to my feet. "Whoa," I said, suddenly dizzy, needing to wait a minute while the world stopped spinning. Then Daniel was there, taking my left arm, helping me as we started toward the hill the Jaffa had indicated. As we moved away, I took one last look back at Carter and Teal'c, then plodded on toward the hill.

Jack looked like death warmed over. God, maybe I shouldn't use that term, I thought superstitiously, but he looked pale and shaky. I knew just enough first aid to be really worried, concerned about shock, blood loss, exposure, infection, probably a half dozen other things could happen to him out here, and none of them good.

Sam had given me the first aid supplies, plus both her and Teal'c's extra canteens. I helped Jack, just a steadying hand on his good shoulder, as we carefully picked our way across the rocks, trying to leave no mark or trail for the natives to follow. We worked our way toward the big hill, looking for shelter, but the best I could find, in the end, was a small area under the huge trunk of a blown over tree. It wasn't much protection, but Jack was weaving on his feet, pale as a ghost, eyes nearly closed and his jaw set against the pain. I had to get him to rest, and this was the best I could do, on short notice.

He was walking beside me, leaning more heavily on me with each step, stumbling with weariness. "Jack, here," I left him leaning against the tree, laid a blanket on the ground to keep him off the cold earth, then helped ease him to sit down on it.

"How's that?"

"Wonderful. I've always wanted a vacation home in the woods."

"I need to take another look at your shoulder."

"Naw, it's okay," he said wearily, pushing my hand away. "Seen one shoulder, seen them all."

"Jack, come on. Let me..." I opened his shirt and was appalled to see that the bandage Sam had applied was already blood soaked. "Damn."

He was lying back against the tree, eyes closed, but asked "What?"

"Ahh, nothing."

One eye opened, stared at me. "Don't ahh nothing me, Daniel. What?"

I took a deep breath. "It's still bleeding. A lot. I, uh, I'm not sure..."

He closed his eyes again. "Get out a fresh bandage. You'll have to put some pressure on it...." it was like he was talking about someone else's injuries.

"But won't that hurt?"

"Yeah," he said softly, "it will. Just do it, hmmh?"

"I think you should lie down." He complied silently, with my help. I opened a new sterile pack, placed the new bandage over the saturated old one, and leaned my weight into it.

His face went white, "Ummmh" was the only sound he made, and then he passed out.

I cursed, in 8 or 10 different languages.

I held the bandage in place, checked it three times before it seemed the blood flow had stopped. "It's okay, Jack," I told him, not knowing what else I could do to ease my friend. I hunkered down next to him, in the damp earth of our little 'cave' formed by the uprooted tree, hugging my knees, worrying about Sam and Teal'c, about Jack, about our pursuers and about how we were going to get off this damn planet.

It was an hour or so later that I finally saw Jack stir. It was nearly dark under the canopy of ancient, dark trees. I could barely see his pale face, his head moving on the pillow I'd made of the folded up edge of his blanket. I'd thrown my own blanket over him for good measure.

"Jack?"

He mumbled, moved under the covers, eyes blinking open, looking around, assessing where he was. Good, that was the O'Neill I expected to see. "They haven't found us?"

"No. I haven't heard or seen anything."

"Good." He looked around. "Do we have any water?" he asked.

"Oh sure." I got a canteen, raised his shoulders as he held it with a shaking left hand, and drank deeply.

"Morphine or pills?"

"We might have to bug out," he said softly. "Better make it the pills."

I handed him two more pain pills, and a dose of the broad spectrum antibiotics we carried for emergencies. This, I assumed, qualified as an emergency.

I pulled the blankets back up around his chin. "You warm enough?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Rest."

"Ummm."

I don't know how long I slept, just that when I woke, Daniel was dozing beside me, barely visible in the bit of moonlight that seeped down through the thick trees. I lay still, listening to the night, hearing the little sounds of birds and animals, reassuring noises that meant there were no humans prowling about disturbing them.

There was a little rock or root or something digging into my left hip and I shifted a little in my blankets, and groaned, grabbing for my shoulder. My left hand hit a thick wad of bandaging.

"The bleeding has stopped, I think, but you shouldn't move around. Might get it started again." His voice was very soft in the darkness. "How are you feeling?"

"Peachy, just peachy," I mumbled. "I'm a little dry though."

"Sorry," he said and helped me again to drink. Just that little movement, to raise my shoulders off the blankets, left me gasping with pain, though I hoped I'd hid it from Daniel.

Once again flat on my back, I tried to contain the pain in my shoulder, but it was throbbing, taking away my concentration, and my strength. I obviously didn't do a very good job of camouflaging how I was feeling, because the next thing I felt was Daniel pushing up the sleeve of my shirt, followed by the telltale pinprick of a needle in the arm.

"Dammit, what the hell?"

"I gave you some of the morphine, Jack. You need it, to rest."

"I don't want it Daniel, Damn, it makes me....." the drug was taking effect, making my thoughts slide away into oblivion, dragging me down with it. Sure, the pain was gone, but.....but... shit. And everything went black.

Maybe I shouldn't have given him the morphine, but he was in so much pain, and, well, Jack is the stubbornest man I know. He'd keep refusing the morphine just on general principles, because he'd think he ought to, that it was expected for him to 'tough it out.' He should know better by now, realize that he doesn't have to prove anything to us, his team, we've seen his courage time and time again. But I guess he just doesn't know when enough is enough.

He needs to rest.

I wrapped the blankets more tightly around him, wished we could have a fire, wished Sam and Teal'c would return, wished it was dawn and Jack was better and we could all go home.

I dozed.

An odd noise woke me, a soft 'plop' and another and then another, all through the forest.

It was raining. Damn.

Our shelter wasn't much. I had Jack wedged up under the tree trunk, and behind us the mounded earth where the roots had been torn out of the ground protected one side. I huddled next to Jack, feeling an occasional rain drop slap my face whenever a gust of wind blew into our shelter.

This was not what we needed, definitely not.

I woke to the sound of raindrops on leaves, a familiar sound. It was nice at first, lying there, wrapped in warm blankets, and then I remembered where I was. I tried to move, and pain burst to life in my shoulder. I clutched it with my left arm, "God."

"Jack, easy. It’s okay. You're okay."

Yeah, right, easy for you to say, Daniel. You didn't have a hunk of metal tear a hole through your shoulder, busting up things in there. I could feel things grating together, things that shouldn't be moving around like that, like my collarbone, I thought.

It was Daniel, right there, grabbing my arm, easing me back into the blankets, tucking them around me. "Lie still, we don't have much shelter from the rain. You shouldn't get wet."

"I won't melt." It was so warm,the cool rain would feel good, I thought.

"No but you're hurt and it's cold enough already."

"Rain.. that's good... will cover our tracks... make it harder for them to find us, or Teal'c and Carter."

"Yeah, that's true," said Daniel, sounding uncertain. He was worried about me I suppose. I wanted to tell him not to worry, I'm tough, he ought to know that by now, but the words slipped away and I was asleep again.

Quiet hours passed slowly, just the rain and the regular, rhythmic sound of Jack's breathing.

Hours later, a different sound woke me. Jack was moving restlessly under the blankets. I reached over, touched his wrist, and the only response I got was a moan.

It was nearly dawn, still absolutely pitch black, but by feel, I took his pulse, fast, and he felt warm, too warm. Damn, infection? I'd given him the antibiotics, but of course, there was no way to know what kind of alien germs might have been on that bullet. Or what the bullet was made up of itself, and what it might be doing to him.

"Jack?"

He mumbled.

"What was that?"

More mumbling.

Maybe he wanted water? I held the canteen to his lips, and he drank a little, coughed, drank more, settled down a little, and seemed to go back to sleep.

By dawn, if anything, he seemed a little worse. Whatever the infection was, it was moving fast. I wiped the sweat from his face, gave him another dose of antibiotics, another shot of morphine, and more water. After that, he slept for quite a while, restlessly, mumbling, trying to throw off the blankets.

Then they came.

I heard the natives, quiet voices echoing through the forest as they searched.

I scrambled up by Jack's head and knelt beside him. We were well sheltered here, the searchers would have to stumble right upon us to see us. But the wounded man had to stay quiet and still or we'd be found.

"Jack," I hissed in his ear.

Mumbling.

"Jack, listen to me. Jack, come on, I need you with me. Now. Come on."

With great effort, I opened my eyes, saw Daniel's anxious face above me. "Danny?" He covered my mouth was his hand. I struggled, what the hell? What was he doing? "Jack, quiet, you have to be quiet. They're coming."

They? Coming? Who? The British are coming? The Second Coming? Coming round the mountain when she comes? Come in to my parlor, said the spider to the fly. Whoa, get it together, Jack. Think Jack, think. Hmm, right, someone shot me, and Danny and I are hiding. In the forest. Like Robin Hood, outlaws hiding in the forest, Robin Hood and his Merry men, must be the sheriff coming, the sheriff of Nothingham... Knowingham... Nottingham! I thought triumphantly. "Sheriff," I muttered, must have said it aloud because Daniel gave me a strange look. "Shh. Quiet."

I closed my eyes, God, it wouldn't be so hard to think if it wasn't so hot, if I wasn't being smothered. I struggled, hampered by the blankets and restraining hands....

In the end, I didn't know any other way to make him lie still and keep quiet. "Jack, I'm sorry," and I clipped him on the chin, as hard as I could, just the way he had taught me to throw a punch.

He went limp in my arms. Great, Daniel, punching out a wounded man, that's good, real good, you just knocked out your best friend. And then I heard the stealthy footsteps in the woods, and all I could do was pray I'd hit Jack hard enough to keep him unconscious long enough for the natives to leave.

He was going to have a dandy bruise on his jaw, I thought. I'd explain it all to him later. If there was a later.

While the natives searched, I held my breath as they worked their way closer and closer, peering into tangles of brush, under logs. They were going to find us, this guy right here, coming closer and closer, so close I could see the tattoos on his cheek. And then one of the other men called out to him and he walked toward the other man, away from us, back towards the others.

I sagged in relief, watching them work their way past our hideout, farther from us with every step.

And then Jack moaned.

It wasn't much of a sound, but just enough that the man, now about 50 yards away, turned his head as if searching for a half heard noise. I slapped my hand back over Jack's mouth, praying he'd stay quiet for a few seconds more.

It was quiet in the woods, too quiet, so very quiet I thought the man would hear my heart pounding or hear Jack's harsh breathing, and then, the warrior turned away, and began to walk after the others.

I looked down, and Jack's eyes were wide open, staring up into mine.

I moved my hand. "You okay?" I whispered.

"What the hell was that all about?" he asked softly.

"The natives were searching, one guy must have been only about 10 yards away."

Jack moved his jaw gingerly, feeling it with his good left hand. "What'd he do? Hit me?"

"No. I did."

"You did?"

"You were, ah, making noise, moaning."

"I don't moan."

"Jack, you were. Moaning, making noise. The morphine was wearing off."

"I don't moan, except, well, maybe..."

My face must have gotten red because Jack was trying to grin up at me. "Ya' think?"

I got Jack to drink more water, take another dose of the antibiotics, eat a little of the MRE I opened, then gave him another ampoule of the morphine. He didn't protest this time, and that worried me.

With my good hand, I tried to push myself up off the blankets. Daniel was immediately there. "Hey, keep still."

"I need to sit up," I said softly, trying to clear my throat. "There's a damn rock under my back that's gonna give me bruises." Daniel put his hand under my good shoulder, helped pull me to a semi-sitting postion against the back of our shelter. "Better." For the moment at least, especially when he gave me some water.

His hand was on my forehead. "Your fever's down," he said. "That's good, right?"

"Yeah. For now. It will come back you know," I looked up at him. I'd been in trouble like this before, with wounds untended. I knew the antibiotics weren't working, that the morphine was only covering up the symptoms for now, and that things were going to get uglier. I could feel the heat building in my shoulder, the deep burning ache that throbbed with each movement, the tightening in my chest. "You should go find the others."

"I'm not going to leave you."

"Daniel, they may need help."

"And you don't?"

"I'm okay. Just leave me here, with the water and the blankets, come back for me...."

"I am not leaving you."

God, he was stubborn. "Daniel...."

"Jack, I am not going to leave you here, alone."

"Is that your final answer?"

"Yes," he said defiantly.

"Damn it, Daniel," and I started to cough, deep, wracking, wet, coughs, shaking me through and through, and hurt, oh Lord, they hurt.

Daniel grabbed me, held onto me as I coughed. It felt like I was coughing my lungs out, gasping for air, like I was drowning. Gently, I felt his hand wiping the sweat from my face, the other hand on my shoulder, supporting me, and then he was wrapping me back in the blankets.

Jack was in a bad way and I didn't know what to do. It was cold out there and damp, and getting colder and damper as the night descended again. The drugs weren't helping, other than to let him sleep, but I had only two more doses of morphine left. And then what?

He was curled up in the blankets, shivering, so I pulled myself in closer, next to him, cradling him, rubbing his back, trying to get him warm. I wanted to light a fire, God, do something, anything to warm him. He's my friend and I was afraid he was dying right there in my arms in the middle of some damn forest on some no-name planet.

He began mumbling, something, I couldn't make out the words.

"Jack, what's the matter?"

More mumbling, more words I couldn't understand. "Charlie" it sounded like, "Charlie." God, his son, his friend Kawalsky, that child the reetu created? Any one of them, every one of them, was a bad memory. "No, no, no," he thrashed, and I tried to hold him and keep the blankets around him, but he kept fighting me, fighting the nightmare, delirious from the fever and the pain, and there was nothing I could do to help. Damn, I felt so useless. "Charlie," and there was a world of hurt in the way he said the name and the haunted look on his face. "Charlie, I'm coming Charlie, wait for me, don't go, don't go," he mumbled, his words ending in a wracking cough.

Finally, he quieted. I didn't know if that was a good sign, or a bad one.

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

Morning. Light was seeping through the dark trees, the sky was still overcast, the air still damp and cold. Jack was huddled into the blankets, shivering, sweating, mumbling and delirious. Every few minutes, a coughing spasm wracked his body.

I was already debating if I ought to go look for help when I heard the distant but unmistakable sound of gunfire. I may not be military, but I'd learned to recognize the sound of automatic weapons fire. Sam and Teal'c? A rescue sortie? Oh Lord.

I had to do something, I had to get to the gate and check, bring help if they had sent a rescue party through for us.

Jack was semi-conscious, unresponsive, he couldn't possibly go with me. That meant I had to leave him there, alone. I needed to go to check the gate, see if there was any sign of Sam and Teal'c or anyone else.

"Jack, can you hear me?"

He opened his eyes slowly, looking around in confusion, "Danny?"

At least he recognized me. That's a positive sign, isn't it? "Jack, I need to leave you for a little while. I need to check the gate."

He closed his eyes again, opened them slowly. "Carter? Teal'c?"

"I haven't heard from them. Maybe I'll find them."

Jack closed his eyes again. "Good. Find them. Go home."

"Not without you. I'll be back for you. You'll stay right here?"

"Sure."

I gave him more water, the last of the antibiotics and a couple more pain pills. I tucked the blankets around his shoulder, made sure he was lying as far up under the scanty cover of the tree trunk as possible. It was the best I could do.

<><><><><>

It took me hours to work my way cautiously back to the Stargate, and there was nothing but bad news there. The natives were still guarding it, no chance to get through for help. No sign of Sam or Teal'c, either. There had been some sort of rescue attempt, because there was the smoking remains of a MALP lying shattered behind the gate. Had they tried to come through for us, met resistance, and gone back?

Cautiously, desperate to know about the others or find help for Jack, I decided to take the risk, and triggered the radio I'd taken from him. "Sam? Teal'c?" I whispered.

"Daniel?" Came the soft reply. "Where are you? How's the Colonel?"

"I came to the gate, heard gunfire...."

"There was an offworld activation and the MALP came through. The natives started firing on it. We fired back, hoping they'd hear our weapons, realize we're here.."

"The General won't send a rescue into an ambush."

"I know. How's the Colonel?"

"He's not good. The wound's infected, I think he's got pneumonia. And we don't have much for shelter. I was hoping..."

"Look, we'll try to get to you..."

"We're still where you left us, the first day, Teal'c remembers where he sent us?"

"Yes, we'll try to get back to you."

Suddenly, I heard Teal'c's voice in the background. "Major Carter, there are men approaching through the forest. We must depart."

Sam's voice changed. "Daniel, they've found us again. We've got to move. We haven't been able to lose them, we can't come to you, we'll just lead them to you. We'll try to get back to our rendezvous, but don't wait for us. Find shelter and do what you can for the Colonel."

I heard Teal'c's staff weapon fire. "Daniel, I've got to go. Good luck."

<><><><><>

I worked my way slowly back toward our shelter. Jack would be proud of me, I thought, I haven't forgotten what he's taught me about being careful, taking my time, checking the trail, watching my back. I spied a warrior, standing watch along the trail. Avoiding him, I worked my way around, but that meant I had to leave the trail. That made it hard to find that spot where I'd left Jack.

This is the spot, isn't it? Right here, this tree, isn't this the place?

Jack's not here.

Oh God.

Did they find him? Sam or Teal'c? Or the natives?

Damn. Footprints, staggering unsteady footprints were leading away from the shelter. What was he trying to do? I shouldn't have left him, he was delirious. God knows where he's wandered off to.

It was raining again as I searched, trying to follow his meandering trail. It wasn't that hard, really, because he would walk a ways, and fall, leaving imprints of knees and hands as he pushed himself back to his feet. Still, it took me an hour to find him, and I probably wouldn't have found him at all except for the ragged sound of that hard, harsh cough.

He was shivering, wet, cold, feverish, lying face down in the forest duff.

Oh God. "Jack?" Nothing but a mumble. "What were you trying to do?"

And then ahead of me, I saw movement. "Quiet," I told him, praying it wasn't a warrior.

It wasn't; it was an old woman, alone, walking through the forest. And I suddenly realized I could smell smoke. A fire? Shelter? Please God, for Jack.

I hoisted my friend's mostly limp body up on his feet, draped his good arm across my shoulder. "Come on, Jack, you've got to help me."

Give him that, he tried, stiffened his knees, made walking motions that weren't entirely effective but helped. Together, we staggered a few hundred yards, rounding the hill and there was a cabin. The old woman was standing in the yard.

All or nothing, Daniel. Jack will die out here, without getting dry and warm.

I put my best smile on my face. "Hi, grandmother. Please, we mean you no harm. My friend is hurt, and sick. We just need a place to get warm and dry."

She was staring at me, staring at Jack. When she spoke, I couldn't understand her words, knew only it was a question.

"Please, we won't hurt you." I tried to look my most harmless. That's something Jack says I'm good at.

She was still staring, took a couple of steps closer, came up and touched Jack's sweat streaked face, looked at the blood on his shirt, shook her head, then turned and walked toward the cabin, motioning me to follow.

I followed her into the hut and put him down where she pointed, on a pallet in front of the fire.

She looked him over quickly, felt his warm forehead, examined the angry wound in his shoulder, felt his pulse and rapid heartbeat, all the while shaking her head, muttering sounds that didn't seem very encouraging.

"Thank you for helping...."

She cocked her head at me, shook it, looked down at Jack's body. Gently, she wiped his face with a cloth.

"We're grateful for the warmth, if nothing else." God, this was frustrating.

She motioned at me, then at Jack, mimed removing her jacket. Ah, take off his wet clothes. Good plan. Jack moaned in pain as I slid off his vest and shirt, stripped him down to his briefs and wrapped him in the warm, dry furs the woman provided. She was stirring something in a pot over the fire, and in a few minutes brought a small bowl over and handed it to me.

"What is it?" I smelled the stuff, nothing pleasant, but again, she motioned, indicating I should get Jack to drink. I didn't understand her words, but there was nothing I could do but trust her.

I raised Jack's shoulders, held the bowl to his lips, tried to get him to sip. He murmured, tossed his head weakly, but I did manage to get a few mouthfuls into him. Meanwhile, the old woman was rummaging in her cupboards, mixing something in a bowl. It was an ugly looking and worse smelling paste.

She looked again at his shoulder, rolled him on his side and showed me a bump under the skin of his back. The old woman said more words I didn't understand. She stirred the fire, held a large, sharp knife in the flames for several seconds, then looked at me. With Jack now lying on his stomach, she placed my hands on Jack's shoulders, pushed them down, and I knew what she wanted me to do.

I braced myself against his shoulders, and the woman used the hot knife to slice through his skin. He bucked under my hands, his strength surprising me, raising himself off the blankets, crying out in pain. Then he fell back, breath rasping harshly. The old woman had cut open his back, pulled the bullet from under the skin, and helped me turn him over again, to lie on his back. The cloth she placed under the wound soaked up the nasty, dark fluid that gushed from the wound, draining onto the cloth.

Jack moaned. "Quiet, it's all right," I told him.

He tried to open his eyes. "What...?"

"It's okay Jack, we're helping you. We've got the bullet out. Lie back, rest.."

"Ummhh," but he acquiesced.

I held Jack down again as the old woman smeared the horrid smelling paste in the wound. Jack writhed, then stilled, and I realized he had passed out again. A good thing, I hoped, rest and relief from the pain.

When the old woman was done, she climbed stiffly to her feet and turned away.

"Now what?"

She turned back to me, shrugged, her silent communication indicating plainly that he would live or he would die, but she'd done all she could do for him.

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Jack was quiet for hours, then began to stir restlessly. He mumbled, tossed and turned. I sat with him, holding one hand, trying to get him to take water or more of the old woman's potion, and some broth. His fever was spiking again. It seemed to be a cycle, of semi-consciousness, increased fever, then quiet before the next bout.

I hardly budged from his bedside for four days, spending the time wiping the sweat from his face, urging him to drink, trying to get some of the old woman's broth and potions down his throat; replacing his blankets when in his fever he tried to push them off the bed; talking soothingly when he writhed in the throes of terrible nightmares, fighting and cursing. I know he's never talked willingly about his incarceration in Iraq, but I learned a few things during those long nights, things I will never tell him I heard. Some things are better left unimagined, unsaid, unacknowledged. I really wished I didn't know that much Arabic.

Meanwhile, the old woman came and went, taking care of whatever business there would be for an old woman alone in this forest. She gave me food, more of the broth and potions for Jack, and changed the poultice on his wound.

And in trying to communicate with her, I found the solution to the puzzle, the language of the people. It was an offshoot of an early Slavic language, so corrupted by time and distance, it was three days before I heard her use a word I thought I recognized. Then I started, naming everything I could think of in the Slavic dialects that I could recall-- house, tree, man, woman, chair, fire, walk, sleep, food, eat.

Thank you.

It was rudimentary communication at best, but at least it was something.

And I found out from her that we'd walked into the middle of a civil war. The local people, the Hashurs, had been overrun by the warriors, the Ha'adavines, and no one trusted anyone.

Strangers through the gate? No, never in her lifetime, and she had lived through nearly a hundred turnings of the sun. The soldiers, they wouldn't come here to her cabin, they feared her, thought she was a witch. Jack and I would be safe, while he healed.

If he healed.

He was trying, I granted him that, but he was losing, wasting away as he battled the pain, the fever and the delirium. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes listless on the rare occasions they were open, his grip weak when I could even get him to grasp my hand. In the night, in his feverish dreams, he would call out for Charlie and for Sara; talk to Henry Boyd and Frank Cromwell; whisper names I didn't know. I didn't have a clue how to help him, how to pull him back from those dark memories.

The few times he was coherent, he asked after Carter and Teal'c, and I saw how he anguished over the lack of news. "No news is good news," I tried to cheer him, with one of his own cliches. Didn't work. Not even a smile. I didn't think he had the energy for it, or the inclination.

I've missed a lot of days I think, days I imagine I don't really want to remember, just vague memories of pain and fever, of vivid nightmares and terrible dreams.

I think I'm getting better, if I just didn't feel so weak and drained, so useless, lying here in this bed, day after day. Daniel keeps reminding me to be patient, that I'm making progress. I finally believe him now, there's no longer the lie behind his eyes when he tells me I'm getting better.

The old woman's potions are nasty tasting, but they seem to help, to take away the deep ache in my shoulder, help me sleep, give me a bit of strength, even though it is soon gone. She's told Daniel that the Ha'adavines are still searching for the others and for us, so I hope they, like us, have found a place to go to ground. They'll take good care of each other, Teal'c and the Major. I shouldn't worry about them. Maybe they even got home, found a moment the gate was unguarded. Though I don't think they'd do it, not without Daniel and me. Just like I wouldn't go without them. We're a team, and we leave no one behind.

For the first time in six days, I got a decent night's sleep. I think the worst is over, thank God, Jack seemed to have slept quietly through the night. I fell asleep on my blankets on the floor, beside his bed, sometime last night.

"Daniel, where the hell are the rest of my clothes?"

"Hmm, what? Jack? Jack!" I came suddenly awake, aware Jack was sitting up on the edge of the bed, blankets wrapped around him, looking pale and tired but more alive than he had for a week. "What?"

"My clothes. Where are my clothes?"

"Right there," I pointed to the end of the bed, where his pants, t-shirt and long sleeved shirt hung with his vest and jacket. "Arllet washed them, got the worst of the blood out of them," I explained, as I rose to help him. With his right arm bound tightly across his chest to let his collarbone heal, he wasn't much good at getting himself dressed. One-handed he managed to pull the forest camo BDU pants over his legs, then tried to stand to fasten them. Didn't work too well, his legs wobbled and I had to steady him. But he pulled them on and I helped him fasten the belt at it's smallest hole, he'd lost that much weight. He looked at the t-shirt, then down at his arm bound across his chest. "Ah, maybe we'll skip that," so I helped him into the long sleeved shirt, letting his arm hang inside the shirt, sleeve dangling empty.

Dressed, and nearly on his feet, he looked a hundred times better than he had for a week, I thought, though no one would mistake him for someone who was well.

He stood, hobbled three steps over to the chair, his face gone even whiter than it was a few minutes ago, and sat down heavily.

"You sure you're ready for this?" I asked. Dumb question, Jackson.

He closed his eyes, opened them slowly. "Got to start some time."

He ate breakfast at the table with us, sat in Arllet's rocking chair in the sun by the window, fell asleep there most of the morning. It was a start, as he forced himself to walk around the room, a few more steps each time, though the effort left him breathless and sore. Gradually, however, I could see he was gaining strength, bit by bit.

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It had been 10 days since he'd been shot, when we got the bad news.

Arlett returned from the village, her face grave. "They have captured your friends."

Jack saw my face go white. "What? Tell me."

"They've caught Sam and Teal'c."

"Damn." He slammed his fist on the table. "Where are they being held?"

"In the village tonight, then they'll take them on to the city of the Ha'adavines, tomorrow."

"So we have to get them tonight."

"The two of us?"

Long odds have never bothered Jack O'Neill. "We've got guns. And there should be some C-4 in my pack," he added.

"Jack," I said, biting back the words, 'you're not ready' because I knew they wouldn't make a difference, not to him, not when the rest of the team was in trouble and needed him.

"Once they're moved, we won't have a chance. Find out from her everything she knows about where they're being held, the village, anything."

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At dusk, we headed for the village, Arlett showing us the way. At the edge of the group of huts, we parted. "Tell her, thanks, for saving my life."

I did. "She says you are welcome, but throwing it away is not the way to repay her kindness."

Jack smiled grimly. "I'm not throwing it away. Not if I save them." He checked his gun, looked at me. "Okay, Daniel, we're on."

We were dressed like the Hashure, in old rags, Jack as an old man, which fit the hunched over way he was still walking. The robes effectively hid his MP-5. I had my handgun and a knife. We walked boldly into the village, like we belonged, a son helping his elderly father home, or so the Ha'adavines would think, we hoped. Past the tavern, and past the hut where Arllet said they were keeping Carter and Teal'c.

Once past the lighted buildings, we ducked down an alley, trotting along behind the buildings. I could hear the stress in Jack's breathing, but he went on. Once along the back of the hut, he called softly. "Carter, Teal'c?"

Soft answer, "Colonel? You're okay? Where's Daniel?"

"He's here, we're fine. Stand back and cover up. When this blows, run like hell, okay?" He nodded at me, and I ran back down the alley, lit the fuse for the C-4 we'd put on the barracks, and ran back. The thunder of that explosion roared through the quiet village. There was chaos as flaming debris rained down on thatch roofed huts. Soldiers were running helter-skelter. A second explosion from the timer we'd set on the far end of town was echoed by the smaller blast that took down the side of the hut that held our teammates. Jack ducked in the front door of the building they were using as a jail, saw that the guards there were down from the blast. He nodded, and Teal'c ran in, grabbed his staff weapon and zat gun while Carter helped herself to her MP-5, and they emerged from the dark building.

"Good to see you again, Sir," said Carter with a grin.

"Later. Let's go," Jack ordered, and we started back for the gate.

We trotted through the confusion of the town, then alternated jogging and walking, trying to maintain a pace that kept us moving, yet allowed Jack to keep up. He was gray-faced with exhaustion as we finally neared the gate. I ran ahead, Carter beside me, Teal'c helping Jack. The gate guards, in the confusion, had left their post beside the ring, and were standing in a cluster near the DHD. One zat gun shot took them all down.

I dialed frantically, while Carter stood poised with my GDO, punching in numbers, waiting interminably long seconds for the okay to come through. She nodded, grabbed O'Neill's other arm, and we launched ourselves through the gate.

I fought for balance as I emerged from the gate, into the familiar confines of the gate room. Just behind me Carter, Jack and Teal'c stumbled through together, O'Neill landing on his knees, staying down, fighting for air.

General Hammond, a very relieved look on his face, was standing at the base of the gate. "Colonel O'Neill, you are five days late."

Jack raised his head, and I saw Hammond's expression change at the sight of him, seeing the makeshift bandage holding Jack's arm, his pallor and the dark smudges around his eyes. "Where's that medical team?" he hollered, not needing to see more than Jack's face to know he needed medical attention. Hammond was up the ramp, beside Jack's kneeling form. "Colonel, are you all right?"

"Just fine, Sir, now that I'm home."

"What happened?"

Jack grinned. "Oh not much, General, just a little misunderstanding."

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