ReindeerGames

By BadgerGater

Email: [email protected]

Season: Five (not 6 because Daniel's in it)

Episode: None

Spoilers: Not much, actually

Category: Drama, Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: None

Summary: Investigating a planet inhabited by humans and animals from Earth's far northern climates, half of SG-1 struggles to get the other half safely home

Rating: PG

Warnings: Wild animals. Nasty weather. Injured SG-1.

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

Author's Note: This is for Nicka, in thanks for all her wonderful posters; and Pheral, she'll know why when she reads it...

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Reindeer Games

By BadgerGater

Pt 1

Jack O’Neill thought he had never seen a ceiling that looked quite like this one. Swirling gray, in shades from near black to almost white. The ceilings in the rooms of the SGC were all gray, he knew, but a boring, single shade of gray. The ceilings in his own house were cream colored, but still, they didn’t move like this. Staring upward, he watched, trying to understand, sure that there was some meaning in the pattern, certain that if he watched long enough, he would understand.

It was all so very odd yet nothing to get rattled about. There was nothing to worry about in the whole wide world, hell, the whole entire universe. He was so not worried about anything that he wasn’t even the least bit concerned because he couldn’t move. He just felt warm and lazy, sort of detached actually, like everything was fine and wonderful and he was free…

He drifted away into nothingness.

Jack didn’t know how long he drifted, and he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything, really. It was just nice, here, wherever here was. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered. He was floating, gliding without any effort on his part, yet he somehow knew he was moving. There was the sensation of motion, not like he was moving himself, but like he was adrift on the wind, flying in a way, no, flying took effort and will, while this was easy and gentle and light and airy, more like soaring effortlessly, like an eagle riding a thermal higher and higher into the sky. It felt nice.

And he felt disembodied. Yes, he knew what it felt like to be disembodied, actually, like when he and Teal’c had traded places, but no, wait, that was a different kind of disembodied. This was more like, well, like the floating feeling you got when you were drifting on your back on the ocean, letting the salt water hold you suspended between the earth and the sky. Or like being high on painkillers, so doped up you couldn’t feel your body anymore. Of course, he couldn’t be moving if he was that over-medicated.

And if he thought about it, he couldn’t be flying, either, because people couldn’t fly.

But he *was* moving, which was impossible.

Unless someone was carrying him.

On a stretcher.

Across open countryside.

Not ceiling, sky.

Not floating, being carried.

He tried to move then, to turn his head to see something other than the clouds and sky above, but his body wasn’t co-operating very well. He gave the order, he expected his head to swivel and turn, but his muscles just stayed loose and lax and nothing happened.

He wasn’t dead. He knew that because he could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, hear the soft sighing of his lungs and the whisper of blood pumping through his veins and a muted thump-thump that was his heart beating. And there was another sensation, of discomfort, not real pain, more like a shadow, like pain which ought to be there, which *was* there, but muted somehow.

So alive, yes, that was one definite conclusion.

He must have made a sound then, because the floating movement stopped, and then the sky went dark, no, wait, a shadow moved between him and the sky.

Jack blinked, trying and failing to focus. There was a rumbling noise, sound in patterns like words, but it was just too hard to sort out the jumble of tones into something coherent and meaningful. Besides, he didn’t care about the words or the world. He didn’t know why, but that didn’t matter either.

Something touched his hand, and then the covering over his chest moved, and he felt a chill, cold air against his exposed flesh making him shiver. He tried once more to move his hand then, to push away the cold, to pull the warm cover back in place, but his arm moved uselessly slowly and sluggishly and then his limb just stopped in midair.

Stopped because someone had taken hold of his arm, he could feel the grip of fingers on his forearm. He knew that, knew it as from a great distance, like he was far away and the signals from his body had to travel a million miles to reach his brain. Odd, he wasn’t alarmed, even though a part of him knew that this was wrong, insisted that he should be worried, screamed at him that he should fight this lassitude that held him.

His thoughts seemed to be moving in slow motion, like molasses on a Minnesota winter morning. Jack smiled at the thought of how his Granddad used to slather sweet molasses on his bread.

Sounds again, a more insistent tone, and then something pressed against his chest. There was discomfort in the pressure, and he tried to move away, to avoid the sensation, but more hands were holding him down.

Jack tried to ask them to stop, formed the words in his brain and told his tongue and lips to speak them, but nothing happened. And then the gentle pressure turned heavy, and discomfort turned into molten fire as pain engulfed his chest and his body instinctually writhed in a futile attempt to escape the raging agony.

**********

Reindeer Games

By BadgerGater

Pt 2

“More morphine, now, damnit!” Carter shouted, trying to hold her CO’s contorting body on the stretcher as she fixed another pressure dressing into place. “Daniel, hurry!” Turning her attention back to the flailing man on the stretcher, she tried to soothe him with her words, hoping somehow he could hear her, that some way her words would penetrate into his brain. “Sir, I’m sorry, I know it hurts, but I need to keep pressure on the wound. It's bleeding again. Please, Colonel, lie still. You’ll only make it worse. Please.” Raising her head to stare at her teammate, she pleaded, “Daniel, please, find the morphine. Now!”

Jackson was digging frantically through his pack, searching for the remainder of the first aid kit, at last holding a vial out triumphantly. “Here. Here.”

Daniel watched with huge, round eyes as Sam grabbed the small ampoule, hurriedly pulling off the plastic covering the needle, jabbing the sharp end into Jack’s thigh. In moments, the gray haired man’s agitated, aimless motions slowed and his meaningless mutterings quieted. Carter checked the blood soaked bandage on O’Neill’s chest, then zipped the sleeping bag shut once again, tucking it tightly around the injured man’s neck.

Sam sank wearily down onto the damp cold ground, running a dirty hand through her disheveled blonde hair.

“How much further back to the ‘gate?” Daniel asked quietly.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure,” the Major answered dispiritedly.

“That was the last of the morphine.”

“I know.”

“How long will it last?”

“Four hours.”

Daniel was trying to keep the fear out of his voice. “We can’t carry him when he starts thrashing around like that.”

“I know that, Daniel,” she snapped, then dropped her head to look down at the ground. “I don’t think it will make any difference. If we don’t get him home soon, he’ll be dead anyway.” Sam turned her head to look behind her, her eyes worriedly following the hunched over form of Teal’c in the distance, following slowly in their wake. He was hurt, too, but they couldn’t carry both him and the Colonel, and he’d insisted that his symbiote could heal him even as he walked. So, reluctantly, they had agreed. Teal’c had trailed stoically behind them as they trudged onward carrying their unconscious burden, the alien from Chulak falling ever further behind.

“Let’s rest until Teal’c catches up,” Daniel suggested.

Sam rubbed her aching hands together, rolling her weary shoulders, and nodded. “Just a few minutes. Then we have to go on.”

Maybe they should have left the two injured men back by the village, and one of them could have gone for the gate. They would have made better time. Sam shook her head. It was too late for would haves, should haves or could haves. The Colonel would tell her that. Make a decision and stick with it. Leave no one behind. That’s what he had taught her.

That’s what he would expect her to do.

Once more, she looked down at the pale, silent form swaddled in the sleeping bag, and prayed she was making the right decision.

*****

It had started out as a routine planetary search. The gate on P2N-813 had opened onto a flat plain, a frozen tundra like that of the Alaskan arctic. Moss covered the ground in sporadic patches and a few stunted, twisted trees were the only things growing on the frigid landscape. A dozen miles from the gate, the UAV flyover had revealed a settlement tucked into a fold in the mostly flat landscape. The humans looked amazingly like Laplanders or perhaps Eskimos, living in hide covered huts, and nearby, there were herds of apparently domesticated antlered creatures closely resembling…

“Reindeer!” Jack crowed when he saw the animals on the monitor during the briefing.

“Well, yes, this does appear to be a tribe of humans from Earth’s arctic regions…” Carter was startled by the interruption.

“Any red noses?” Jack had asked. Seeing the startled looks, he added, “Red noses, you know, reindeer, Rudolph, blinking red nose, leading the way on a foggy Christmas Eve thing…”

“Ah, that would be a no, Sir,” Carter stated, grinning.

“Darn. Any sign of a jolly fat little bearded guy?” he persisted, still smiling.

“No, Jack. No Santa,” Daniel answered.

O’Neill shrugged theatrically. “Well, you never know,” he said defensively. “You’re the one who always says there’s a grain of truth behind every myth…”

Daniel raised an eyebrow in shocked surprise that O’Neill admitted remembering something he’d said. “Well, actually, yes there is. Almost invariably but…”

The Colonel waved a hand in the air in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, no lectures. I’ve got the no Santa thing.” Turning serious once again, he turned back to the Major and asked, “So why are we interested in these people?”

“Well, Sir,” Carter spoke up, “despite the fact that they appear to be quite primitive, the UAV did show us this.” Carter tapped the remote, stopping the video, and zooming in on the center of the village. A large, ornately carved column stood upright, towering above the crude huts.

“What is it, Major?” Hammond asked.

“A totem pole!” Jack gleefully answered.

“Well, in a way, yes it is, Sir,” Carter’s face was intent. “However, it appears to be emitting some sort of EM field, at very low levels, but constant.”

O’Neill lifted his chin. “And the purpose of this M&M field?”

Carter grinned and shook her head. “We don’t know. Yet.”

Daniel had gotten up to stand beside Carter. “The totems themselves are also very interesting. They appear to be quite similar to the ones found on North America’s Pacific Coast. There are carvings of several creatures that we haven’t identified, along with several that we have…”

He took the remote from Sam and clicked it, bringing the totem into even sharper detail.

“These are obviously reindeer or a close relative,” Daniel clicked again bringing up another view, “and that appears to be a bear…”

“There are bears on that world?” Jack asked incredulously.

“Actually, we think the bears may simply be something remembered, from the time before the Goa’uld took these people from Earth, since the designs are so stylized. Unlike the reindeer, which are rendered in a very life-like way…”

“Okay, no bears. That’s good.” SG-1’s commander breathed a sigh of relief.

“And this animal is some sort of fish…” Jackson had moved the video to show another carving that resembled a salmon. “And finally,” he was smiling grimly now, “there’s this…”

The final slide was a close-up of a human face, a vaguely familiar face, with eyes painted bright white.

“A Goa’uld?” said Hammond.

“Apophis,” Teal’c specified.

“Shit,” muttered O’Neill.

As they stared at the likeness of the Goa’uld on the screen, Teal’c suddenly stood up and walked closer to the picture. “Can you focus on this area?” he asked Daniel, pointing at a design just above Apophis’s likeness.

“Sure.” Daniel fiddled with the remote, changing the view, then zooming in on the design. Adjusting his glasses, the archaeologist did a double take, moving up to stand beside Teal’c. “Now that’s interesting.”

“Very,” said the man from Chulak.

“What?” chorused Hammond and O’Neill.

“This appears to be a Goa’uld symbol…” the archaeologist stated.

“Indeed, Daniel Jackson.”

“…but it’s one I don’t recognize…” Daniel pointed at the design. “It means?” he threw a questioning look at Teal’c.

“Forbidden,” Teal’c replied.

“Goa’uld forbidden,” breathed Daniel, turning to look now at Carter.

O’Neill smirked happily. “This could be big.”

*********

“Oh, God, that’s probably why….” Sam suddenly blurted out.

“What?” Daniel pushed his glasses up onto his nose, repressing a shiver in the chill air.

“The EM field. Some animals are sensitive. That could have provoked the attack…” Sam shook her head. “I should have realized… I should have warned him…”

*****

Reindeer Games

By BadgerGater

Pt 3

They had walked quietly for hours to reach the outskirts of the village. It was amazing, really. If it hadn’t been for the aerial view provided by the UAV, they would never have guessed a human settlement was so close. The flat terrain was deceiving. From the Stargate, the land had looked barren and featureless all the way to the distant horizon. But once they’d started walking, the landscape had in fact been riddled with hidden folds. Small trees and thick brush grew in each sheltered draw, concealed from the buffeting of the strong winds, Sam assumed.

Bitter winds they were. She hunched deeper into her jacket to protect as much of her face and neck from the cold as she could. While the temperature was definitely below freezing, uncomfortable but certainly bearable, the wind chill was obviously well below zero Fahrenheit, she assumed. Carter thought about digging the atmospheric analyzer out of her pocket to check, but just the idea of exposing bare hands to the frigid air made her shiver.

“Cold, Major?” O’Neill asked suddenly, his voice pulling her out of her thoughts.

She looked over at him. Even the Colonel looked chilled, his nose red, his cheeks ruddy, his breath puffing out into vapor clouds that were whisked away immediately by the whipping of the wind.

“A little chilly, Sir,” she conceded. “It’s the wind.”

He nodded at her, even as his eyes continued scanning the landscape around them. O’Neill took a quick look behind them to where Daniel walked with Teal’c, noting with satisfaction the ever vigilant Jaffa watching their six, as he and Carter led the little procession. “We could take a break. Get out of the wind for a bit,” he suggested, waving a hand ahead at the point a few yards ahead where the trail they were on dropped off into another small ravine. “I think Daniel’s about to turn into an icicle.”

“Yes, Sir.” Sam was grateful for the respite. She’d never have asked, always feeling the need to be as tough as the guys, never complaining, never asking for concessions. Fifteen years in the USAF had taught her that no quarter would be given because she was ‘a girl’. But, by the same token, she’d spent all of her adult life proving she could do whatever the guys could do, anatomical differences aside.

Not that it mattered to the Colonel. O’Neill was the kind of commander you dreamed about, well, okay, for some people he’d be a nightmare. He certainly had his rude and crude side, and then there was the obnoxious 12 year old kid that appeared at times. But the truth was, he’d never objected to her presence on SG-1 because she was a woman, only because she was a scientist. And he’d eventually gotten over that, had learned to respect her knowledge, seek out her opinion, and trust in her abilities. That had inspired her, given her the confidence she’d needed to blossom as his Second.

And yes, he expected a lot of her, but never more than he demanded from the others and from himself, too. He was consummately fair… he drove all of them nuts with his bad jokes and his worse sarcasm, even if it was funny… sometimes…she thought with a grin. She never wanted that wit pointed at her, because damn if he couldn’t make it cutting and biting and downright nasty, when he tried. Which, she had to admit, wasn’t often. And never without good reason.

You had to understand that he wasn’t some talky, in-touch-with-his-feelings sort of guy. He was gruff and belligerent and occasionally far too quick to anger, definitely blunt and impatient and demanding and sometimes downright bullying.

None of which was bad in the person who was responsible for leading and protecting a team that did what this one did, stepping out into the unknown day after day.

Now if he would just bully them all into going home because this place really was too damn cold, Sam thought, shivering.

SG-1 clambered down into the ravine, O’Neill leading the way, moving off the trail a few yards into a little depression where a few trees huddled out of the wind.

The Colonel knelt down on one knee to get his tall frame out of the gale, watching as Daniel and Carter flopped down to sit on the ground nearby. Teal’c was walking further up the draw, picking up broken bits of stick which littered the bottom of the draw. Jack gathered a few small twigs that were within his reach, stacking them pyramid style. Sliding his lighter underneath, he flicked it to life. The dry wood burst immediately into roaring flame. “Crap!” With a curse he jerked his hand back, shaking it as his glove smoldered.

“You okay, Sir?” Carter frowned in concern.

“Just fine. Only singed a little, Major,” O’Neill was studying his glove, noting it wasn’t really damaged, just a little crisp around the edges. He was pretty sure there wasn’t any injury to his hand, but he wasn’t about to take off his glove to check. It was far too cold for that.

Teal’c was adding more sticks to the fire which flared upward, flames leaping a foot or more as he added each small branch.

“Wood’s not supposed to do that,” O’Neill commented petulantly as he watched the flames jump with each twig the alien added to the fire.

“Actually, Sir, it depends on the sap content of the wood," Carter contradicted. "Some trees, like acacias are much more flammable than say… ”

“Ack!” O’Neill waved a no-longer smoldering glove covered hand at his second. “I don’t need a lecture on *trees*, Carter. Just so long as the wood burns and gives off warmth, I *really* don’t care if it grows it’s own lighter fluid,” he finished as he cautiously leaned forward to join the others already warming their hands over the small but intense fire.

**********

Twenty minutes later they resumed their walk. The wind seemed even more bitter as they emerged from the shelter of the small ravine. O’Neill set a brisk pace, hoping to reach the village quickly. They finally arrived at the point where the trail dropped steeply into a large and deep valley, apparently carved out of the surrounding landscape by the river that flowed sluggishly through its center. “Carter, how come the water’s not frozen? Don’t tell me it’s weird like the wood…”

“Actually, Sir, I’m not sure. It should be frozen over at this temperature. Unless, of course, it’s salt water, which wouldn’t make any sense.”

O’Neill lifted his chin. “Why is that, Major? Because it’s a river not a sea?”

“Actually, Sir, the water *could* be coming from a salt water source…” Sam started.

“What wouldn’t make sense, Jack, is for the people to build their settlement beside a salt-water river,” Daniel interjected. “They need a source of fresh water.”

Jack waved a hand at the surrounding frozen landscape, where small drifts of windblown snow could be seen in every small indentation in the terrain. “They could melt the snow.”

Daniel frowned at SG-1's leader. "What about in summer?"

"This might *be* summer here," Jack countered smugly.

“I guess, but…”

“Maybe they're here because there are saltwater fish in the river. Like salmon or something,” Jack commented.

“Actually, Jack that’s a very good reason,” Daniel sounded surprised.

O’Neill smirked. “Yeah, I *do* know fish, kids. Let’s go. Maybe we can get sockeye for supper. But I’m not stayin’ if this place doesn’t have central heating,” he mumbled as they began to descend the steep slope toward the village. “Let’s keep alert. The natives are likely to notice us soon.”

^^^^^^^

Reindeer Games

By BadgerGater

Pt 4

They approached the village cautiously. There were several dozen primitive huts clustered within a circle of small, bluish stones. As SG-1 crossed the line of stones, several natives who had been standing near one of the huts suddenly turned to stare silently at them, assessing the newcomers.

Behind the men stood several of the reindeer creatures, heads raised, as if they, too, were studying the strangers.

Not a sound was uttered, but soon the hide flaps covering the doors of other huts began to open, and more natives emerged.

“They appear to be Eskimos,” said Daniel, noting the distinctive facial features of the wary locals.

SG-1 had now reached an area of the village where the huts were arranged more closely together. The totem stood in an open circle in the village’s center, some 50 yards away. Dozens of people were now clustered around the team, several of the large antlered reindeer following closely behind them like oversized dogs, O’Neill thought.

The natives had not made a sound, not even the children.

The continued silence was unnerving.

“Daniel, talk to them.” Jack suggested, trying to smile, which was hard, considering his face muscles felt frozen solid from the cold.

“Hello. We’re peaceful travelers from the planet Earth. My name is Daniel Jackson. He’s Colonel Jack O’Neill, that’s Major Carter, and Teal’c,” Daniel pointed at each person as he named them. “We’ve come through the Stargate.” The blank expressions on the natives hadn’t changed. “The Stargate, “ Daniel repeated.

“The annulus,” Jack suggested hopefully.

“The stone ring,” Carter offered.

Daniel nodded, drawing a round circle in the air. “The Chappa' ai.”

A gasp went up around them, the natives drawing back a step.

“Well, there’s a word they know.” O’Neill looked at Jackson out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t speak Eskimo, I take it?”

“Ah, no, Jack. No one at the SGC does.”

“Oh, good.”

Daniel tried greetings in several other languages, Jack recognizing French, Spanish, and Egyptian among a group of others that were pure gibberish to the Colonel.

Teal’c’s quiet tones interrupted. “Perhaps we should try the language of Apophis, DoctorJackson. If, as it seems, he was the one who brought them here.” Daniel stopped, nodding at the Jaffa.

Teal’c began to speak in the guttural, clipped tones that O’Neill recognized as the language of their enemies, with Daniel interjecting the occasional additional phrase.

The blank faces of the natives changed immediately, their eyes going wide. One of them, one who had an obvious air of authority, stepped forward, the others clearing a path to let him through. Once standing in front of the visitors, he bowed and began to speak in the same language, Teal’c and Daniel answering.

The exchange went on for several minutes while Jack shifted from foot to foot, trying to move enough to keep his toes from freezing solid. “Daniel,” he finally interrupted. “I hate to break up this party, but who is he and what the hell is going on?”

“Ah, this is Indiuk, he’s the tribe’s leader or priest or…”

“Leader is sufficient,” Teal’c confirmed.

“…right.” Daniel agreed. “Induiak says we are the first visitors through the Chappa' ai in many years, since the great God Apophis visited his grandfather’s grandfather…”

“None of the Goa’uld tribe is present at present, then, I take it?” Jack asked.

“No.” Daniel’s eyes were bright with excitement. “Indiuk says his people were visited by another God, not a Goa’uld, he didn’t have the glowing eyes…”

“A Jaffa then?” O’Neill raised an eyebrow.

Daniel pushed his glasses higher up on his nose. “No. I think it may have been one of the Asgaard, because this benevolent being, they call him the Nameless One, by the way, gave them a gift of the totem, and told them that it would protect them from the false gods.”

“How?” Carter had to know. "Is it like the Hammer, on Cimmeria? It didn't look at all the same."

“I don’t think he knows," Daniel added, still listening to Indiuk between translations to his teammates. "They’ve never seen it work. They just know that the glowing one and his warriors have not returned in all the time the totem has stood guard over the village.”

“Teal’c?” O’Neill turned to the alien. “You ever heard of anything like this?”

“I have not. However, there were many forbidden planets where Jaffa and Goa’uld were not allowed to travel. And we have been to other worlds where there are devices to protect the people…”

“Like Thor’s Hammer. I know,” O’Neill agreed. “But that affected you as well as the Goa’uld, Teal’c. And so far, you’re still here.” Jack looked at his alien teammate with concern. “You’re okay? Junior doesn’t feel, well, wigglier than usual or anything?”

“My symbiote is fine, O’Neill, as am I.”

Jack watched Carter wrestle one of her scientific measurement doohickies out of her jacket pocket, her brow furrowed in concentration as she punched buttons with gloved hands. “Well, the totem device is still emitting just a low level EM field, it’s unchanged as far as I can measure. If that thing reacts to Goa’ulds, it either hasn’t recognized Teal’c as carrying a symbiote, or it only works on Goa’ulds.”

“Or it’s not working,” the Colonel commented dryly.

“Well, Sir, it *is* still giving off low level emissions, so something is working.”

O’Neill turned to stare up at the intricately carved post. From this distance, the leering faces of men and beasts seemed suddenly dark and dangerous. Jack shivered, and this time, it wasn’t from the cold.

^^^^^^^^^

Finally, the visitors were invited into one of the larger huts on the rim of the cleared circle around the totem. “It’s an honored place for visitors to warm and refresh themselves after a journey,” Daniel explained as they followed Indiuk.

“Visitors from where?” Jack asked suspiciously.

“Other tribes,” Daniel informed him “There seems to be a large population scattered around this area, many small villages exist along the lakes and streams. Fish is their main food staple.”

O’Neill smirked. “Told ya’. Fish. Fishermen. You know, I think these are going to be my kind of people.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Right, Jack.”

Inside the reindeer-hide hut, getting out of the biting wind immediately made them all feel warmer. They pulled down their hoods, opened up their heavy parkas, and slipped off gloves. Daniel pulled off his frosted up glasses, using his shirt to wipe them clean.

“Wow!” Carter was staring at a ring of stones in the center of the roomy structure. Stepping forward, she reached out her hand, touching one of the rocks, jerking her arm back quickly, inspecting her fingers briefly before standing once again.

“Carter?” O’Neill’s tone was suspicious.

“Sir, these stones, they’re the building’s heat source.” she was staring down at them with a mixture of wonder and delight.

“Stones?” Jack cocked his head, questioning his second.

“Yes. Stones. They’re warm, almost too hot to touch.”

“And that’s possible because…” O’Neill prompted as he stepped closer to warm his hands, hoping the heat would thaw out his feet and his face, and other vital parts, too. A guy always had to be worried about a little shrinkage, after all.

“I’m not sure, Sir.” Jack watched as Carter once again pulled her scientific measuring doohickey out of her coat pocket, “but there are elements in this rock that my equipment can’t identify. This is amazing…”

“It’s not, like, radioactive or anything, is it?” the Colonel was still in full suspicion mode.

“No, Sir. No radiation. Nothing harmful, as far as I can tell. There are some minute traces of naquada, so it could be a related mineral. Colonel, this could be *very* important.” Her face was glowing with the excitement of discovery.

“Rocks. Important. Right,” he groused, hiding his grin, before turning to the others. “So, what’s the plan, kids? While Carter here looks at rocks…”

“I’d like to talk to Indiuk,” Daniel’s face showed equal enthusiasm. “Find out what he knows about the people’s history, how they got here…”

“And ask him about where they get the stones, Daniel,” Carter requested.

Jackson nodded.

“Okay, then,” the Colonel agreed. “Teal’c, you go with Daniel. Help him translate, and watch your sixes. These people have been friendly so far, but let’s not take any chances. Carter and I, we’ll look at *rocks*,” he uttered the last word with distaste.

“And the totem, Sir, I need a closer look at that, too.”

“Right, then, Major. Stones and the big stick…”

^^^^^^^^^^

Reindeer Games

By BadgerGater

Pt 5

Jack spent the rest of the afternoon being bored as Carter analyzed rocks and babbled on in growing scientific excitement. Finishing with the stones inside the hut, the two of them once again put on coats, hats and gloves and ventured out in the cold.

There were stones scattered around the village, apparently none of them of the hot rock variety, O’Neill thought unhappily as he shivered in the bitter air. Carter, however, was enthralled with studying these cold rocks so she could compare them the hot rocks in the hut.

The only thing of interest Jack found was the reindeer. They seemed to be completely at home around the village, following him and Carter, and O’Neill once again thought of them as something akin to friendly pet dogs. He even tried walking up to one, holding out his hand, talking soothingly as one would to a stray canine. “Hey, Rudolph,” he said softly. The animal, larger than its Earth counterpart, with long, graceful antlers curling up and slightly forward, stood its ground, sniffing at his hand before allowing him to stroke its nose.

“Cool,” Jack whispered.

^^^^^^^^^

Over the next several hours, he and Carter worked their way to the far end of the village, next to the river, the curious deer following them. Finally, about the time O’Neill was going to suggest that they go back to the hut and warm up, a native appeared, bowing to them and using hand signs to signal the strangers to follow him.

O’Neill was too cold to reject an offer to move anywhere that might be out of the wind.

“But Sir, we haven’t examined the totem yet…” Carter protested as they headed away from the river and the tall alien device in the midst of the village.

Jack shivered. “Major, the totem will still be here tomorrow. You and Daniel can examine it to your heart’s content. Tomorrow. After we’ve *all* warmed up,” he noted her red nose and wind chapped cheeks.

Following their guide, they soon arrived at another large hut. The native lifted the hide door flap and motioned them inside. They could hear Daniel’s excited voice and Teal’c’s quiet tones as they entered the structure, where their teammates were engaged in animated conversation with several of the natives. Well, animated on Daniel's part, O'Neill mused.

“Hi guys,” Jack called out as he and Carter stepped into the dim interior.

Though it was definitely warmer inside than the frigid outside temperature, and shelter from the wind was welcome, this hut wasn’t nearly as warm as the one they’d been in earlier, O’Neill immediately noticed. Daniel was still wearing his parka, hat and gloves. Teal’c had opened the zipper on his coat and removed his gloves, but still had his stocking cap in place.

There seemed to be only one of the hot rocks in the building’s center. He nodded at Carter, pointing at the single stone, holding up one finger.

The Major nodded. “Maybe they’re rare. One to a hut?” she answered quietly.

“Our hut has three, Carter,” he whispered.

“Visitors get the best?” she suggested.

“Ah, a three stone hotel. Got it,” he mugged.

Daniel’s greeting interrupted them. “Jack, we've been talking with Indiuk, and the tribal elders. This is a fascinating society," he went on enthusiastically. "And we’re invited to come back here to feast with Indiuk and the tribal council in the morning. Apparently, that’s tradition, to greet the new day with a large, hot meal, to celebrate the sunrise.”

“This planet *has* a sun?” O’Neill couldn’t resist asking. “They’ve actually *seen* it?”

“Sir, there must be sunlight for plant growth…”

The Colonel waved a hand to cut off her explanation. He’d had enough scientific mumbo-jumbo for one afternoon. “Carter, I was only kidding.”

“Yes, Sir,” she grinned.

^^^^^^^^^

Returning to their hut, SG-1 found it had been prepared for them to spend the night. A pair of oil lamps hung from the ceiling, shedding a buttery light in the room. Four sets of furs had been spread in a circular pattern around the stones.

“Ah, the maid’s been in and turned down the beds I see,” O’Neill quipped, glad to be back in the warmest spot they’d found so far on the planet.

Daniel set the coffeepot on the stones, hoping it would heat enough for coffee while they consumed their MREs.

Done eating, Jack turned to his linguist/archaeologist. “So, Daniel, what did you find out about our hosts?”

“The ancestors of these people, they call themselves the Atuiat by the way, were brought here by Apophis, thousands of years ago,” Daniel paused to sip his lukewarm coffee. “They have no written language but their legends tell of a mighty, glowing eyed God who promised them a new land. He picked the youngest, strongest and bravest warriors, taking them and their families into his flying house…”

“That would be his ship, I take it?” O’Neill commented.

Daniel nodded. “Yes. They describe it as a pyramid of metal that soared through the air. It took them to another frozen land, where the God anointed them and bade them travel to their new home in his name. He promised to visit them, and when he came, he would select the best of the young men and women to travel with him…”

“You mean to be hosts.” Jack interpreted.

“Yes. I’m sure.” Daniel sipped more coffee before continuing. “Apophis did come back. It’s hard to judge the time period, but certainly for a dozen or more generations, he selected the strongest of the young people of this planet and took them away, never to be seen again.”

Jack frowned in thought. “But why would Apophis, who favors warm, dry, desert planets, want Eskimos? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Jackson nodded in surprise. “Actually, Jack, that’s a very good question.”

Both men turned to look at Teal'c for an answer.

“Perhaps he used these people as Jaffa. There are planets of ice and cold where naquada can be found,” Teal’c suggested.

“So he took them away, to be Jaffa or slaves, to mine the Naquada from arctic planets,” Carter summed up. “Makes sense.”

Daniel waved a hand at Carter. “And Sam, Apophis brought them the sun rocks, that’s what the Atuiat call them.”

“So the sun rocks aren’t indigenous to this planet?” Carter was disappointed.

“Afraid not,” Jackson answered. “The legends say they were a gift of the god to his people, to help them survive in this new land.”

“Well, then I guess I don’t need to go looking for more,” the Major noted unhappily.

O’Neill, on the other hand, was ecstatic at the prospect of no more rock searches. Spending another day traipsing across an ice cold planet looking at rocks was definitely *not* his idea of fun. “Okay then, so tomorrow you kids are going to examine the totem, and then we can go home and get out the heat lamps, right?”

“Yes, Sir,” Carter agreed.

Cautious as ever while off-world, O’Neill posted watches throughout the night, but the time passed uneventfully.

+++++

Before dawn, SG-1 crawled out of their sleeping bags and began preparing for the feast.

“So, should I go with the black boots or the black boots?” O’Neill smirked as he pulled on his footgear.

“The black I think, Jack,” Daniel quipped.

O’Neill threw one of the rocks, the plain rocks Carter had picked up outside, at Daniel, who ducked, grinning. “Gee, your aim’s not so good this morning, Jack.”

“It’s the cold, Daniel,” Jack windmilled his right arm, clutching his shoulder. “Tightens up the pitching arm you know.” Jack looked around the hut for allies. “Right, Teal’c?”

The Jaffa simply raised an eyebrow in silent disapproval.

Daniel was staring bleary-eyed at the empty coffee pot. “ I don’t know how anyone can be so cheerful so early in the morning without coffee.” He stared pointedly at his team leader.

“It’s one of those military things, Daniel. Instant awake. Takes practice.”

There was a scratching on the outside of the door a moment before one of the Atuiat entered, saying something only two of the SG personnel understood.

“They’re waiting for us,” Daniel interpreted. “We’re to follow him to Indiuk’s home.”

Quickly, they pulled on parkas, stocking caps and gloves in preparation for heading outside into the pre-dawn darkness. O’Neill exited first, emerging into an inky blackness, but above them in the brilliant sky, bands of colored light flickered and surged like flames licking at the sky, red, green, purple, yellow.

Jack stopped, entranced at the sight. “Wow. Northern lights.”

“Aurora borealis,” Carter, too, was staring upward. “I’ve never seen them this intense.”

Their guide spoke several words.

“He says, ‘The spirits are dancing’,” Daniel explained.

The team from Earth watched in silent admiration for several moments, then moved off to follow the native toward Indiuk’s hut.

Jack once again noted several of the large deer standing nearby, as if watching them.

Indiuk's hut was packed full of natives. They parted to let the visitors pass through, whispering and eyeing the strange looking visitors and their odd clothing.

Once inside, the members of SG-1 were shown to the center of the building. Indiuk sat on a pile of furs, his wife beside him. More furs were arranged around the hut’s sun stone, and the visitors were urged to sit in the places of honor near the center.

More people entered. One brought a sun stone, and another did the same, until soon there were nearly a dozen stacked together in the center of the now very crowded room.

“It’s part of the ceremony,” Daniel whispered to the others. “Sharing one’s warmth is a gesture of friendship, so they bring their sunstones to the gathering.”

Carved pots were brought by the women, and set upon the stones to heat. The food smelled good, Jack thought.

“Fish soup,” Daniel explained. “Flavored with a spice from those small bushes we saw. And there’s a sort of potato, a small tuber that grows in the ground.”

With the large stack of stones, and dozens of people packed wall to wall, it soon became hot. Jack shrugged out of his jacket, pulling off his stocking cap. Carter did the same, as did Daniel, and then Teal’c.

When the Jaffa removed his headgear, the crowd around them gasped and shuffled backward, voices rising in excitement, and, Jack thought, fear.

O’Neill tensed. “Daniel?”

The linguist was talking rapidly with their host, whose broad face was no longer wearing its friendly smile. Around the room, the natives began chanting in a low droning tone that grew steadily in volume.

“Daniel?” Jack asked again, alarmed now. "What are they saying?" he demanded.

“Ah…I think they’ve recognized Teal’c as a servant of Apophis. They know the symbol. And he says, we are no longer welcome. We must leave now or the Gift will destroy him…”

“The Gift?” Carter asked.

“The totem.”

“You know…” Jack could hear a sudden buzzing noise from outside, even louder than the noise the natives were making.

Carter was looking around in confusion. “I hear it, too, Sir.”

Jack reached for his jacket, his gun concealed within it, as he saw the Major reaching for one of her scientific devices.

Staring at the lighted display screen she frowned. “Sir, the EM field, it’s taken a sharp increase in intensity. And it’s still increasing, rapidly.”

Jack jumped to his feet, hurriedly slipping into his coat. “Okay, kids, we’re out of here. Now.”

Daniel was speaking rapidly to the Atuiat leader. “Jack, we can’t just leave…”

“Daniel,” O’Neill snapped, “*you* said that *he* said that that *thing* was going to *destroy* Teal’c. We need to get out of here. Now. Rude or not, we’ve got to go.”

Jackson was trying to talk to their host even as the Colonel threw his jacket to him and began pushing him toward the door, following Teal’c’s bulk. Carter had her jacket only halfway on, the EM monitor in her hand. “Sir, the EM field is still growing.”

“I know,” he shouted at her, over the din of the native’s angry and scared voices and the humming of the device which had now passed the simply annoying level and proceeded straight on to painful.

O’Neill already had a headache as they exited the hut and began running for the trail out of the village.

The natives didn’t try to stop them. They stood watching, eerily quiet now.

It was hard running in the heavy boots and extra clothes they were wearing. O’Neill knew they wouldn’t be able to run far. Their only hope, as he saw it, was that the device had a limited range, and that they could get beyond it before it reached whatever critical level it needed to do whatever it was going to do.

They were almost to the edge of the village.

Jack thought they were going to make it.

He was right in one way, and oh so wrong in another.

^^^^^^^^^^^

Reindeer Games

By BadgerGater

Pt 6

The four members of SG-1 sprinted past the last hut and crossed the line of blue stones which marked the border of the village, all of them gasping for breath in the bitterly cold air.

“Sir, the readings are dropping,” Carter reached out and grabbed O’Neill’s sleeve. “I think we’re out of range.”

“Take a break,” the Colonel ordered.

They all paused, bending over with hands on knees, sucking in lungfuls of the painfully cold air as they fought to regain normal breathing. Jack had already noted the totem’s noise had dropped from its peak bone-rattling intensity back to a merely annoying background buzz. “Carter?”

She nodded. “When we crossed the line of stones, the readings dropped by half…”

“Jack…” Daniel’s quiet word drew O’Neill’s attention. The archaeologist was pointing back toward the village.

Turning, the Colonel saw the villagers all standing just within the line of blue stones, staring silently outward. As he watched, he saw something thrown from the crowd, across the line of stones, out into the open tundra, then another item, then a third and a fourth.

“What the…?” Jack started.

“It is our gear, O’Neill,” Teal'c declared.

“Guess this mean’s we’re no longer welcome at the Waldorf, eh?” Jack looked around at his team. “Teal’c, you stay here with Carter. No sense in you getting any closer to that totem thingy. Daniel, walk beside me. I’ll provide cover while you pick up our stuff. No sudden moves, no talking, just get our gear. Got that?”

“Can’t we try to talk…” Daniel answered unhappily.

“No. We’re not wanted here, so let’s go. Now.”

The two men walked slowly back toward the Atuiat, Jack keeping his gun raised, his eyes fixed intently on the natives. Neither man said a word as Daniel scooped up their backpacks and started back toward his team leader.

O’Neill was relieved. Even though it was only a morning’s walk back to the gate, he didn’t like the idea of being out in the open on this frigid planet without their gear. Chalk it up to his ever suspicious nature, but he wasn’t going to relax until they were back in the gateroom. Hell, there was no way to know if there might not be some other danger still lurking on the planet, another trap set to catch unwary travelers.

Rejoining the rest of their team, each took his or her own pack, buckling them into place quickly. “Okay, campers, let’s get the heck out of Dodge, shall we?” O’Neill waved his team forward at a walk.

The Colonel set a brisk pace, knowing movement would help keep them warm. He was still worried, still had that feeling of the hairs on the back of his neck standing upright. Maybe it was just the cold. Maybe it was that annoying hum that, while much more subtle than it had been, hadn’t gone away completely. When O'Neill looked back, he saw a group of natives had followed them out of the village, carrying spears aloft. "Guess they want to make sure we leave, huh?" he nodded at the others, and pushed on.

They climbed up the embankment, out of the river valley and back onto the barren plain, the wind immediately hitting them full force.

Damn it was cold, O’Neill shuddered, pulling the fur lined hood of his parka closer around his face.

The reindeer herd was just to the left of them, parallel to the trail SG-1 had descended the day before. There were thousands of them, the animals milling about as if agitated, O’Neill thought uneasily. As the humans approached, one of the animals stalked out toward them. Jack was sure he recognized it as the creature he’d petted the day before.

Daniel, in the lead, paused.

“Just go on quietly, Daniel,” Jack said, stepping off to the side of the trail, moving between the animal and his team. Extending his hand like he’d done the day before, O’Neill spoke softly to the creature. “Hey, Rudolph buddy…”

The reindeer stepped cautiously closer, raising its head as if to sniff the wind.

“Good boy, Rudolph,” Jack soothed as the animal approached, pausing once more to stare at him with its large brown eyes. “Keep moving, guys,” O’Neill ordered his team, taking a step backward to follow them down the trail.

Without warning, the creature lowered its head and charged.

O’Neill had no time to react. The beast barreled into him in a single bounding stride, head swinging, one tine of the great antlers slicing through jacket and vest and penetrating into flesh.

“Arrgghhh,” Jack shouted as the animal drove into him. The impact staggered him as the antler struck the hard metal of his P-90, clipped to his chest, saving him from immediate death. The tines skipped off the metal, piercing him low on his left side, sliding through skin and muscle like a knife through butter, stopping only when horn met bone in his ribcage. The animal, shaking its head, backed up a step as Jack stumbled and slid to his knees and then down to the ground, hands clutching the side of his chest where he could already feel hot blood trickling down his side.

The animal snorted, backing away.

Through a gray haze, O’Neill saw the beast prepare to charge again. His bloodslicked hands fumbled futilely for his gun. ‘What a stupid way to die,’ he thought as he looked into the animal’s crazed eyes.

Carter had her gun raised but couldn’t get off a shot at the animal without danger of hitting her CO. She fired a burst of warning shots into the air, but the creature didn’t so much as pause in its attack. Just as she was contemplating risking a shot, Teal’c ran past her, back toward the Colonel. Also unable to fire a shot without risk to O’Neill, he’d drawn his knife, racing back toward his CO, and launched himself at the attacking creature.

Daniel hurried toward Jack, Carter running beside him, rifle still up as she tried to get a clear shot at the animal, but now it was Teal’c’s form blocking her line of fire. She saw the Jaffa’s knife enter the animal’s neck, the creature rearing up, mewling, throwing it’s mighty head back and forth as Teal’c drove the knife deeper into the beast’s throat. The animal staggered, stumbling to its knees, quivering, as Teal’c backed away.

“Teal’c?”

“It is dead, MajorCarter.” The Jaffa turned toward her, one bloody hand clutching his side, stumbling as he walked toward the spot where O’Neill was on the ground, Daniel beside him.

“Teal’c, you’re hurt.” She started toward him.

“It is a minor wound. I will survive. How is O’Neill?”

Jack lay curled on the ground, muttering wordlessly, eyes closed, face pale, his hands spasming as they clutched the bloody hole torn in his side.

“Jack, let me look.”

O'Neill was moaning, unable to stop the painfilled sound from escaping his throat, instinctively trying to crawl away to hide from the pain, burrow into the ground to escape the agony, anything, anywhere, somewhere. Moving hurt, breathing hurt, thinking hurt, *being* hurt… but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t be still, needed to move, needed to find release, somehow, somewhere… “Arrgghhh.”

“Jack,” Daniel fought to keep his voice soothing and soft as he tried to check the wound. Even as he moved to open O’Neill’s jacket, the bloody hands tried to brush Daniel’s hand away. “Jack, damn it. Stop. Keep still.”

Carter was kneeling beside them now, taking hold of the Colonel’s hands, restraining them so Daniel could check the wound.

Peeling back Jack’s heavy parka, Daniel gasped. There was a ragged hole torn in O’Neill’s side, along the last rib, impossible to tell how deep, but pumping blood at an alarming rate.

Reindeer Games

By BadgerGater

Pt 7

Still confining O’Neill’s hands with one of hers, Carter used her free hand to fumble at the backpack, digging for the first aid kit, pulling out a large bandage.

Grimfaced, Daniel grabbed the dressing and slid it into place, holding it tightly as the Colonel writhed.

“Jack, hold still. Hold still, damn it.”

O’Neill’s eyes fluttered, flickering around wildly. “’Deer?”

“Teal’c killed it,” Carter told him.

Jack nodded, blinking. “Others?”

“They remain at a distance,” Teal’c answered.

Jack licked his lips, his mouth dry. “How bad?” he asked, letting his eyes slide closed.

Daniel shook his head. “Not bad.”

“Bullshit,” Jack managed to open his eyes again briefly. “Got me bad…”

“We’ll get you back home, Sir, you’ll be fine.”

“Right. I’ll just… walk…back…”

“Maybe we could go back to the village?” Carter looked across at Daniel.

“I don’t think so. They were pretty angry when we left. I don’t think we’d be welcome, and Teal’c wouldn’t be for sure.”

“Then I shall stay here,” the Jaffa suggested.

“You can’t,” Sam disagreed. “It’s too cold, and you’re hurt yourself.”

“It is not serious. My symbiote will heal me.”

“But you’ll need time, and someplace warm.” Carter disagreed. Sam looked around in sudden despair. Colonel O’Neill was badly hurt and barely conscious. Teal’c was injured, mobile but barely. The villagers weren’t about to help them, and it was too cold to stay where they were.

Which meant they had to reach the gate.

And she was going to have to find a way to do it.

First things first. With Daniel helping the Colonel, Sam turned to Teal’c. The Jaffa was sitting now, his hand pressed to his chest. Kneeling, she pulled a dressing out of his pack, sliding it into place as he sat stoically.

“The wound is not life threatening, Major.” he reassured her. “This treatment is adequate. We must concentrate on saving O’Neill.”

Sam nodded. She looked around, searching for what she needed. The small, windtwisted trees weren’t much, but they would have to suffice. “I think we can make a litter out of that. You and I will have to carry the Colonel.” Sam looked at Daniel, who nodded. “Teal’c, can you walk?”

“I can, Major Carter.”

“Okay, then.”

Daniel used Teal’c’s staff to cut several of the small trees while Carter covered the Colonel with his sleeping bag. They used a second sleeping bag to form the sling of the stretcher as she slid the tree trunks through the bag, slitting the end to allow the branches to poke out the far end.

It was primitive. Whether it would stand up to carrying the Colonel back to the gate, she didn’t know.

They were ready in less than a half an hour. O’Neill hadn’t moved, lying silently, breathing raggedly, eyes closed, face as white as the snow that dotted the landscape in windblown drifts.

“Sir, we’re going to move you into the sleeping bag and onto the stretcher in a minute. I’m going to give you some of the morphine first.”

His eyes opened and he mumbled something that she hoped meant he understood and didn’t object. She jabbed the needle into his thigh, watching his face until finally she saw the tight pain lines begin to ease. The morphine was working.

“This will hurt, Sir,” she warned.

He nodded.

They opened the sleeping bag. Daniel took his shoulders, Carter his feet, and slid him over onto the bag.

Dimly, Jack had heard their words and tried to prepare himself. Despite the drug, pain flared at their touch, erupting into agony at the movement. He didn’t think it could get any worse, but it did, frayed nerves and torn tissue screaming stop stop stop please stop signals.

She saw O’Neill’s face go an impossibly whiter shade, his face scrunch up with pain as he bit his lip, and his breathing rasped harshly. His hands fluttered around the wound again.

“Sorry, Sir, sorry…”

At last, they were ready. Daniel checked on Teal’c once more, helping him to his feet, then walked back to the stretcher. Nodding to each other, Sam and Daniel lifted the litter off the ground as carefully as they could.

O’Neill remained silent as they began the long walk back to the Stargate.

^^^^^^^^

Reindeer Games

By BadgerGater

Pt 8

Sam’s shoulders soon began to ache, her hands going numb from the combination of the litter’s weight and the intense cold.

After an hour, she had to ask for a break.

That became their pattern, walk an hour, rest for ten minutes. Teal’c struggled along behind them, catching up when they rested, falling behind as they walked. The going was slow, the rough terrain adding to their fatigue.

Sam walked in a haze, not thinking, not feeling, just moving, forcing her leaden arms and cramping hands to hang on. She could barely see the Colonel’s face, tucked into the folds of the sleeping bag, but she could see each breath, a reassuring tiny puff of frosty exhalation into the bitter cold air.

+++++

Daniel's brain was swirling with questions as they walked. Had their been some sign he'd missed, some clue that the natives would turn on them when they saw Apophis' mark on Teal'c's forehead? Maybe if he'd explained things better to Indiuk. Maybe if he'd watched the natives more closely. Maybe if he'd stayed later, talked longer las night, he would have found a way to understand the people, and make them understand that SG-1 wasn't there to harm anyone.

Too many maybes.

And now two of his teammates were hurt.

He twisted a bit as the meandering trail turned slightly and Daniel caught a glimpse of Teal'c. The Jaffa's shoulders were hunched, one hand clutching his chest, the other using his staff weapon like a walking stick. He couldn't see Jack at all, but Sam would tell him if something was amiss.

Sam was struggling, too, carrying the stretcher over the uneven ground was hard, exhausting work.

It seemed like they'd been walking like this forever, and getting no closer to the gate and home and help.

"I need to rest," Daniel heard the exhaustion in Sam's voice as they staggered to a halt and prepared to take another break.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

They were walking again. Sam's shoulders ached with a dull, steady pounding pain. She couldn't even feel her hands, numb from the cold and the hours spent holding onto the makeshift stretcher. She would never have thought the Colonel was this heavy, he was lean, but he was tall. Stumbling with exhaustion, Sam looked ahead once more, praying the gate would be within sight this time. It wasn't.

And then she saw it.

Tiny.

White.

Beautiful.

Deadly.

Insidious.

Alone, it was nothing.

But even as she took another labored step, the first lone sentinel was joined by another and another and another.

No. Not now. Please, God, not now, not when they were almost there, a few more hours at most, even at the slow pace they were relegated to while carrying the stretcher that bore their wounded commander.

With every passing second, there were more and more, steadily increasing, thickening, the individual elements of the army of white growing in size from the first barely visible bits to huge, fluffy, hand sized harbingers of doom.

Snowflakes.

Swirling in the wind.

Even as she walked, Sam could feel the wind buffeting her ever more strongly. Instinctively, she leaned into it, forcing her leaden legs to continue carrying her forward. A step at a time, that's how the Colonel would do it. Don't think about it, just do it. Don't calculate the odds, just do what needs to be done. Focus.

She tried.

The air in front of her took on a hazy quality, and then in the blink of an eye, everything, air and sky and ground, began to turn white with amazing suddenness. The horizon, which had been half a mile or more away, was suddenly mere yards in front of her exhausted eyes.

She could barely hear Daniel's shout above the roaring of the wind. "There! Sam! To the left. Another ravine! We've got to get out of this wind."

Sam tried to turn, to judge Tealc's location. He was still trudging silently behind them, head down, arm clamped tightly against his injured side. "Teal,c, this way!" He raised his face, his expression even more grim than usual, if that was possible, and nodded faintly.

The curtain of white was swiftly closing in on them. Sam angled in the direction Daniel had indicated, feeling the path with her feet as the ground began to angle sharply downward. She stumbled, jostling the burden they carried, and O'Neill uttered a low moan that she barely heard before the wind whipped the sound away.

And then they were into the ravine, its high banks giving them welcome shelter from the raging wind. Sighing, Carter sank to her knees.

Drained as she was, Carter couldn’t rest. Checking first to be sure that Teal’c had joined them, Sam pulled out their small emergency tent. With Daniel's help, it was quickly up forming a makeshift shelter. Keeping dry in the cold was the first task of survival, she knew. The snow blowing in and around them would in fact serve as insulation from the cold and wind. Provided they stayed dry, they could ride out the storm in relative comfort.

Shelter complete, the members of SG-1 hunkered down, side by side, the Colonel in the cocooned midst of them.

Sam turned her attentions then to the wounded Jaffa. “Teal’c?” He didn’t look well. Clearly, the need to travel had prevented Junior from making significant headway in the healing process. She pulled out the last of their sleeping bags and wrapped it around the Jaffa. "How are you doing?"

“I must kel no’reem, Major Carter,” he informed her.

“Can you? Under these conditions?” A worried from creased her face.

“It will be difficult. The conditions are far from ideal, which may slow the process, but my symbiote will heal me in time.”

Sam tried to force her icy cheeks into a smile. “We have plenty of time, Teal’c…”

The Jaffa nodded grimly. “I am afraid Colonel O’Neill does not.”

Sam turned then to look over at where Daniel was tending to their CO, hopeful that somehow he would have good news. Her heart sank when his eyes met hers, his face grim, and he shook his head.

+++++

Reindeer Games

By BadgerGater

Pt 9

Jack O’Neill was still alive, that was about the best light Daniel could put on the situation. Jack’s face was ghostly pale, almost gray, beneath his tan. His lips looked bloodlessly white, his face and fingers chilly to the touch. His breathing sounded frighteningly coarse; even worse, his pulse when Daniel could find it, seemed weak. Maybe it was just his own cold numbed fingers, he told himself hopefully.

The gory wound in O’Neill’s side, the white of rib bone showing, was still leaking blood, sluggishly now, the dressing saturated. Adding one more bandage to the bulky covering on the wound, Daniel felt his friend shudder at the touch. Blood caked fingers feebly tired to push his hand away, the movement uncoordinated as the man’s eyelids fluttered.

The pain sheared through the stifling fog that shrouded him. Jack battled his way upward toward consciousness, attempting to break through to the surface, like a swimmer stroking toward the light and the air.

Daniel could see his team leaders’ lips moving, but the words, if any, were too soft for him to hear over the roaring of the wind. Bending closer to try to catch the words, the sounds seemed incoherent before Daniel was finally able to decipher the mumbled syllables.

“Don’t…hurts…don’t.”

Daniel’s eyes flew upward to meet Sam’s gaze, seeing his own worry reflected in her equally wide eyes. “Jack,” he said gently, turning back to his friend. “I have to do this. I know it hurts, but I’ll be done in a minute.”

He worked as quickly as he could, but his cold stiffened fingers seemed clumsy. Careful as he tried to be, Jack still cried out, arching his back, trying to pull away before finally slumping into unconsciousness once more.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel whispered, knowing Jack couldn’t hear but needing to say the words anyway. His hands shook as he worked, and he bit his lip, trying to concentrate on what needed to be done, not allowing his mind to think about the amount of pain it would take to make Jack plead for him to stop.

Finally done, Daniel sank back with a sigh, rolling his shoulders to ease the sore muscles. Looking across at Sam, he realized that she must be even more fatigued than he was.

“Sam, why don’t you rest? I’ll keep watch.” Not that there was actually anything he could watch for in the in the midst of the whiteout that surrounded them. But someone needed to be awake in case either of their two wounded teammates needed anything. That was an equally useless task, Daniel told himself. Teal’c’s symbiote would heal him, and they’d already done what little they could for Jack.

“I should take first watch,” she insisted.

“Sleep, Sam. I’ll wake you if there’s any change.”

At last, she nodded reluctantly. “I’ll take the second watch.” Carter sank down, planning only to close her eyes for a few moments. With her commanding officer incapacitated, the leadership of SG-1 fell into her hands now. She needed to think ahead, come up with a plan. She’d think better with a little sleep, just a few minutes, a nap, really.

Sleep rapidly claimed her.

++++++++++++

Daniel was alone with his thoughts, in the cold and dark of their primitive shelter. It was hard to stay awake, with nothing to do. Sam was sleeping. Teal’c was meditating, but seemed restless. Jack, still under the influence of the morphine, was asleep or unconscious, he couldn’t tell which, and didn’t want to risk waking him to find out. There was no point to it anyway. Trapped here, there was nothing he could do for his friend.

Lulled by the steady howl of the wind and the whisper of snow against the side of their shelter, worn out from their trek across the frozen landscape, Daniel dozed.

+++++++++

The peaceful haze was gone. It wasn’t truly painful yet, but he felt heavy and odd, and uncomfortable. His brain was still AWOL, and for some reason he knew that was a good thing though he didn’t have a clue why, just like he didn’t know where he was, or even, come to think of it, who he was. It didn’t matter. He just was. Maybe he should say something, ask for information, they’d tell him, he was sure. But his mouth was dry, his throat raw, and he knew it would take too much effort to raise his voice.

So Jack let himself drift, thinking of nothing.

+++++++++

SG-1 rested as the storm raged on.

Dr. Jackson didn’t know what woke him, the cold maybe, he thought at first. Certainly the wind hadn’t let up though it seemed that the temperature was dropping. It was after dark, he assumed, but he didn’t want to risk moving the edge of the coverings that formed their small shelter to check. Sam could probably tell him, but she was still sleeping, a worried frown marring her face. He didn’t want to wake her yet. She needed the sleep.

A whisper of sound drew his gaze downward to where Jack lay, tucked into his sleeping bag, between his teammates to provide the maximum amount of shelter and warmth.

Daniel was shocked to see the brown eyes wide open. His heart leaped for a moment, and then he realized that they were glassy and unfocused, feverishly bright. A fine glaze of damp sweat shone along the injured man’s jaw.

“Jack, you doing okay?” he asked softly.

The lips moved almost soundlessly, a rough murmur failing to carry against the howl of the frigid gale.

Daniel bent closer once again. “What?”

“Water.”

“Sure.” Picking up Jack’s canteen, Daniel held it carefully against the man’s lips, tilting it ever so slowly, letting the drops trickle out. O’Neill raised his hand instinctively, trying to grasp the container, and Daniel couldn’t miss the tremor. “Here. Let me. I’ve got it. Easy.” He watched the wounded man’s throat work as Jack swallowed, then closed his eyes.

Daniel pulled the canteen back. “Doing okay?”

“Peachy,” was the familiar reply, but the voice lacked O’Neill’s usual enthusiasm. Or sarcasm.

“How’s the pain?”

“It’s there.” He answered non-committaly as his eyes drifted around once more. “Where are…”

“We had to stop. It started snowing. But we’re almost to the gate,” the little white lie wouldn’t hurt.

“Good,” Jack answered, distractedly.

“Want more water?”

“Uh huh.”

Taking that for a yes, Daniel raised the canteen once more. Jack drank a sip and another, his throat working as he swallowed.

And then he lost the rhythm of the motion, and coughed.

The sharp movement caused an instantaneous reaction, the cough trailing off into a ragged pain-filled moan, the hands digging at his injured side with sudden intensity.

Daniel hastily set the canteen down, cradling his friend’s head. “Jack?”

O’Neill didn’t answer, just moaned again, his legs churning as he tried to curl in on himself and the pain radiating from his side. His hands clawed at the bulky bandages as if he could rip the agony away.

Daniel reached forward, clasping his hands on Jack’s wrists, amazed at the man’s sudden strength. “Jack, lie still, damn it.”

But the man wouldn’t. Or couldn’t. Daniel thought with despair. The last of the morphine must be wearing off. Daniel tried to keep Jack still as well as hold the thin wrists, and found he didn’t have enough hands.

Suddenly there were more hands covering his and Sam’s quiet voice. “Daniel, let him lie that way if it’s more comfortable.”

Her eyes looked haunted as she watched the injured man. She didn’t want to see the men struggling, worried that in the end that would be more harmful than whatever convoluted position seemed to ease the Colonel’s pain. “Let him be, as long as he’s not pulling on the bandages,” Sam suggested as O’Neill, curled now almost into a fetal position, arms wrapped around his side, ceased thrashing, his movements fading to a stop, his breathing evening out once more, though it had taken on an even more ragged edge.

This was only the beginning, she knew. As the last of the morphine left the Colonel’s system, the pain would get worse, and they would be helpless to ease it.

She had to find some way to get help before it was too late.

As Jack finally settled down, Daniel raised his exhausted eyes to meet Sam’s.

“I’ll take watch now, why don’t you sleep?” she offered, waving away his protest. “I’ve had hours to rest. You’re exhausted, too.”

“Sam…”

“Daniel, you need to be rested. When this storm lets up, it will be even harder to get him to the gate through the snow…”

“Just a couple hours," he reluctantly agreed. "Until it gets light.”

Sam nodded, and watched as Daniel slipped down into the blankets, lying next to their injured CO. Shivering in the cold, she rubbed her hands together, trying to warm them. The temperature had definitely dropped.

Time passed slowly. The storm was still raging outside their shelter, the only sounds being the constant rattle of the wind and Jack's haggard breathing. Daniel slept restlessly. Teal’c was resting, calmly meditating as his symbiote worked to heal him.

Sam had nothing to do but worry. Checking her watch, she realized that morning should be dawning, but as of yet, no light filtered in around the edge of their shelter. In just a couple of hours, SG-1 would miss their check-in. General Hammond would be worried, but, seeing the storm, he wouldn’t send a rescue team. She knew the assumption would be that SG-1 had stayed in the village. Unless, somehow, she got a message to the gate.

Pulling out her radio, Sam pressed the receiver, getting only static, not the return signal from the MALP. “Damn!” she muttered. Being down in the ravine that protected them from the wind also prevented the signal from reaching the MALP.

Checking on the Colonel, Sam's chilled fingers felt the sluggish pulse at his throat as she watched the labored rise and fall of his chest.. His face was set in grim lines that revealed the pain he was in, his lips were pale, his skin nearly white. Even as she watched, he drew in a rattling, painfilled breath, shifting uneasily in his blankets. His eyes fluttered, but failed to open.

The Colonel would die without getting help soon. Teal’c was in danger, too, if he was unable to effectively kel no'reen. Since he was still quiet, failing to rouse even when she’d talked with Daniel, she worried the Jaffa was in trouble as well.

O'Neill would tell her to assess the situation, decide what was needed, then review the available resources. There would be an answer there, if she could only find it.

The situation was clear: two of her teammates needed medical assistance which was only available at the SGC.

They were going to require help to move the Colonel, too. They’d barely been able to carry the stretcher the day before, and now, with snow drifted high outside, she knew it would be impossible to move the wounded man.

Which meant, help had to come to him.

And that could only happen if somehow she got a message through to the SGC.

That required contact with the MALP, which was currently out of range.

The answer was simple. Someone had to get close enough to call for assistance and that could only happen when the SGC opened the wormhole.

Daniel was exhausted, Teal’c and the Colonel were hurt.

That left her.

Carter searched her pockets, found a small notebook and pencil, jotting down a short note and tucking it half way into a pocket on the Colonel's vest where Daniel couldn't miss it. Moving carefully so she wouldn’t wake the men, Sam checked that her boots were laced tight, slipped on her gloves, and pulled the hood of her parka up around her head. Easing the edge of the tent back, she quickly stepped out into the open, fastening the edge of the canvas securely back into place.

Far in the distance, the leaden sky was just beginning to turn gray with the approach of dawn. Well, considering the low gray clouds that still raced overhead, it might be later than that. There certainly was no sign of the sun. The air was bitter cold, biting her lungs as she breathed it in, reminding herself to inhale carefully through her nose, warming the air. Heavy flakes of snow still swirled all around her. Turning around, she watched the meter on her hand held device, waiting for the spike indicating a heavy concentration of naquadah. There. The gate was that way.

The snow was piled deep in the sheltered ravine. It was hard work forcing her way through the drifts and toward the lip of the crevasse where they’d taken shelter. Working her way over the top, she was immediately struck by the buffeting wind, nearly sweeping her off her feet. Bracing herself, putting the wind on her left side, she lined herself up against the location of the gate and began walking.

There wasn’t as much snow out in the open, the wind seemed to be blowing it straight sideways across the tundra-like plain, creating a blinding white-out effect. The force of the wind itself made it a living hell. The wildest gusts sent her feet skidding across the frozen ground, knocking her to her knees. Scrambling upright, she’d completely lost her direction, fumbling in her pockets once more to pull out the naquadah sensor. Regaining her sense of direction, Sam stumbled on.

++++++++++

Reindeer Games

By BadgerGater

Pt 10

Someone was moaning, a harsh, labored sound. Jack listened for a long time before realizing that he was making the noise, and remotely wondering why.

Oh, yeah, hurt. Hurt had become the center of his world. Breathing hurt, so he considered just stopping, but he knew there was a reason he needed to keep on, though for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why at the moment.

And he was cold. He didn’t usually mind being cold, but this was too cold, felt like he was sleeping on an iceberg, which would be a very odd place to sleep, even for him. He tried to raise a hand to warm his face, but his hand was weighed down by tons and tons of lead, making it far too heavy for a mere mortal to lift.

Giving up the effort, he lay still, realizing that his legs felt cramped, probably because he was sleeping in a weird position, curled up, knees pulled up toward his chest. Then move, he told himself, stretch a little, ease the strain.

He moved.

Big mistake.

The moaning started again, this time louder, as pain roared to life in his side, like fire licking along damaged nerves and torn tissue, a living, breathing, snarling, coiling, burning agony that engulfed him, sucking him down into a welcoming blackness.

“Jack?”

Concentrate. Think about the voice, not about the pain. Look at the face above him. Daniel’s face. His friend, Daniel. Think about Daniel. Damn, don’t think about the pain. Think about Daniel, listen to what Daniel’s saying…

“Jack, easy, easy.”

“I could use… an… aspirin,” he managed to gasp out between waves of pain that hammered from his side all the way down to the tips of his toes and up to the top of his head. God, whatever the hell that had happened to him hurt like, like… shit… hadn’t Daniel ever heard of medical kits? Pain pills?

“The painkillers are all gone, Jack. I’m sorry, there's nothing I can safely give you.”

Daniel looked tired and shaken. And worried. Not a good thing, when the person you were counting on to help you looked worried. That was usually a bad sign. “Wha…”

“Do you remember what happened?”

Jack searched his overwhelmed brain, found a dim memory of running from a village, and a big, really really big deer… “Rudolph?”

“Yeah, Rudolph.” Daniel tried to smile.

“Home?”

“There's a blizzard.”

Letting his gaze drift around, O’Neill knew something else was wrong. “Teal’c?” he whispered.

“Healing. He was hurt, too.”

‘Mm, good.” Another nagging thought, another missing face. “Carter?”

“She’s gone for help, to the gate…” Oh oh, something in Daniel’s look spiked the worry through Jack’s semi-functional mind.

“Snow… over?”

“Not exactly.”

Jack nodded his head, a tiny motion, but all he could manage. He understood Daniel’s worry now. Carter shouldn’t be out in the storm. “She’ll… be okay,” he tried to reassure.

“Yeah, Jack, we all will.” But there was no conviction to Daniel’s words. “Go back to sleep.”

+++++

Sam was struggling. The snow was deeper here, despite the wind, and every step was a battle to move her numb legs and feet. It was hard to breathe, cold as the air was, and her muscles were leaden with fatigue. Gusts of wind tore at her clothes, seeping in around the edge of her hood until her face felt frozen. Inside her gloves, her fingers were stiff as old leather. She trudged on, pushing through a drift when suddenly, the ground was gone from beneath her boots, leaving only the soft quicksand of snow. She floundered in the drift, sinking down into the soft whiteness, struggling until exhaustion overcame her.

+++++

“Where is MajorCarter?”

Daniel snapped awake from the dream he’d been enjoying, a memory of the warm sands of Abydos, and the life he'd shared with Sha're. “Teal’c!”

“Yes, it is I, DanielJackson.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I am much improved, although not yet fully healed. My symbiote is hampered by the cold.” The dark eyes peered around the small shelter, taking in the bundled form of SG-1's leader lying quiet. “How is O’Neill?”

Daniel shook his head. “Not good,” he said, very quietly. “Sam went for help.”

“She should not be out in this weather.”

“I know. She left while I was asleep, I think she knew we’d try to stop her.”

“As indeed we would have.” Teal’c’s ebony face looked grayish in the dim light. “I am sorry, DanielJackson, I must once again attempt to achieve kel’ no’reem, to allow my symbiote to heal me.”

***************

“SG-1, can you read me? SG-1, Colonel O’Neill, respond please. This is General Hammond. We are not receiving your signal and you failed to report at your designated check-in time. SG-1, what is your situation?” George frowned, staring down at the gateroom tech seated in front of the computer console.

Sgt. Davis shook his head negatively. “I’m not picking up any response, Sir. The MALP shows blizzard like conditions, a virtual white-out.” Davis swiveled his chair to look at the SGC commander. “It is possible that they’ve taken shelter somewhere, Sir, or that they’re still in the village.”

“Let’s hope so, Sergeant…”

+++++

Reindeer Games

By BadgerGater

Pt 11

The noise woke her, irritating, droning sounds. “…report… SG-1… what… condition?.”

Realization dawned slowly on her. The radio, it was the radio... damn it. Fumbling with cold numbed hands, Carter found the radio, tabbing the button. “This... this.. is Maj... Major Carter…”

+++++

Hammond was staring at the Stargate, as if he could will a response from half a galaxy away. It was possible that SG-1 was safe in the village, after all, they were the Stargate program’s most experienced team. They could cope with a little bad weather. But still, he didn’t like their silence. Sighing, he decided to give the situation another hour. “Sergeant, let’s shut…”

The technician was holding one hand to his ear piece, trying to pick up the faint sound. Static? Or something else? “Sir, I’ve got something. Hold on…” Davis tapped several keys, then a tinny, static-filled transmission could be heard over the speaker. “This is Major …ter. We … immediate… Colonel…. injured…. snow… took shelter… unable… gate… Medical…Repeat.. urgent…”

“We read you, Major. Rescue is on the way. Hold on.” Spinning back to Davis, Hammond began issuing orders. “Page SG-2 and 3, along with Dr. Fraiser, to the briefing room. Now. And have cold weather gear prepped for them. Now, sergeant.”

“Yes, Sir!”

+++++++++++

Twenty minutes later, the General and the physician stood at the base of the ramp, surrounded by the two SG teams, two medics and four additional volunteers set to act as stretcher bearers. As the wormhole kawooshed open, Hammond turned to the assembled rescuers. "Find them and get them back here ASAP, Major."

Lou Feretti snapped a salute. "Yes, Sir. We'll get them," he promised. Pulling the hood of his parka up to cover his face, he waved at the others, jogging up the ramp and into the swirling blue of the vortex.

The rescue team emerged into a maelstrom of white. Captain Horvath, radio direction finder held aloft, pointed ahead into the blinding white. "This way, Sirs," he started away from the gate, trailed by the group, tethered together with climbing rope so no one would get lost in the blizzard.

Their progress was maddeningly slow. Feretti urged them on silently as they trudged through snow that piled into huge drifts, the intense cold reddening their faces, the bitter wind carrying away the words they shouted at each other.

Half an hour of hard work, and they found Major Carter, huddled into a small pocket of snow. "She's cold but okay, Sir," one of the medics from the S&R team informed him.

"Have Sgt Evans take her back to the gate," Feretti ordered the medic.

"N-no," Carter refused, swaying to her feet. "Daniel's with the Colonel and Teal'c. They're hurt..."

Feretti stepped close so she'd hear his words. "Major Carter, I know you'd like to go with us, to help. But the most help you can be to them is to get our of our way. We'll get the Colonel and Teal'c and Dr. Jackson. Our search equipment has a fix on them, we've got medical personnel to treat their injuries, and we're all fresh and rested. Exhausted as you are, you'll only slow us down."

"But, Sir..."

"No, Major, go back. Now."

Pausing only a moment to watch Carter and one of the volunteers turn back toward the gate, the rescue team once more faced into the teeth of the wind in search of the rest of SG-1.

+++++++++

The radio beeped.

"Dr. Jackson, do you read? This is Major Feretti, with a rescue party."

Daniel tabbed his radio, hope lighting up his face. "Feretti? Did you find Sam?"

"We've sent Major Carter back to the gate. She'll be find. What's your condition?"

Daniel looked around, seeing Teal'c was still meditating, while Jack, still silent, stared vacantly upward, eyes unfocused.

"Teal'c is okay, but Jack's not so good. Don't waste any time, okay? Get here."

"We're moving as fast as we can, Doctor. The going is slow, the snow is deep and the wind and cold...." Maybe they should have brought snowmobiles, Feretti thought. But there weren't any on base, and there would have been a long delay, waiting to bring in the machines... time they didn't have. "We'll be there. Tell Colonel O'Neill to hang on."

Daniel turned once more to the gray haired officer. "Jack?" There was no response. "Jack?" The archaeologist placed his hand on the other man's chin, turning the face slightly toward him. The brown eyes drifted, aimlessly, then seemed to pause, puzzled, looking up at him.

"Daniel?" the voice was whisper soft.

"Yeah. Help is coming. Feretti's on the way."

Jack's head nodded ever so slightly. "Good," the voice trailed away.

Minutes passed, endless long minutes as Daniel watched his injured teammates, unable to do anything to help them. Finally, he thought he heard something, what might be the sound of a shout, ripped away by the wind. And then there were figures lifting the flap of the tent, unidentifiable in their bulky cold weather gear.

The medical personnel went quickly to work on the injured men. Daniel was elbowed out of the way, so he retreated to the back of the now crowded tent, arms folded across his chest, watching with undisguised worry.

The medic knelt beside O'Neill. "Sir, I'm Sergeant Findler. I'm just going to check you over." Findler frowned as the Colonel didn't respond to his words. Carefully, the medic peeled back the sleeping bag and jacket, revealing the blood crusted shirt and saturated bandages. "Shit," he mumbled under his breath. "What did this?" he turned toward O'Neill's teammate for an answer.

"He was attacked by an alien deer, big deer, the antlers..." Daniel waved at the wound.

The medic nodded, understanding. "Nasty puncture wound, torn tissue, lots of blood loss. When did this happen?"

"Yesterday. Probably close to 24 hours I suppose."

"How long has he been unresponsive?" Findler asked, taking the colonel's pulse.

"He's been talking on and off, never much, but less and less..."

"Morphine?"

"We used up the last of it last night..."

Daniel watched as the medic worked quickly and surely. Finished checking the Colonel over, Findler injected another ampoule of morphine and started an IV.

The tent flapped opened once again. "Sarge? Can we go?" Feretti asked impatiently.

"We'll be ready to move in a minute, Sir," the medic barely looked up from his work to acknowledge the Major's entrance. "Teal'c is fine to go, the Colonel's..." he looked over at Jackson, then shrugged. "It's the best we can do out here. He needs a real hospital. And fast."

"Let's move then."

Within a few minutes, Jack and Teal'c were loaded onto stretchers, and the rescuers began walking, trading off the chore of carrying the injured men. The snow and wind continued unabated as they walked blindly, following the homing signal back to the gate.

They nearly walked right into the Stargate platform when they finally reached their destination. It took only moments to dial home and send the iris code. Teal'c and Jack were carried through the gate, arriving in the embarkation room amid a swirl of snow and blasts of icy air.

At the bottom of the ramp, Hammond stood waiting, watching his CMO rush forward the moment her patients came through. The search and rescue medic gave her his report as they carried the Colonel to the waiting gurney. The General got only a quick glimpse of Jack's bone white face as Janet took only a brief moment to peel back O'Neill's parka, revealing the blood soaked bandages wrapped around his side.

The General had talked to Major Carter, he had a good idea what to expect, but it still left him shaken. O'Neill looked awful, and he didn't seem to be moving. "Doctor?" Hammond didn't want to delay or distract her, but he needed to know.

The physician paused, watching the orderlies wheel the wounded officer out of the oversized doorway and down the hall. "Sir, I've got an OR ready, Dr. Warner and his team are prepped and waiting. The Colonel's injuries are serious, that's all I can tell you now, General. With your permission, Sir, I've got to go."

George nodded. "Then go, Doctor. Go."

+++++

Reindeer Games

By BadgerGater

Pt 12

Janet reached the infirmary just moments after O'Neill's gurney. He was unresponsive as the medical staff worked quickly to prep him for emergency surgery; bloody clothes cut away, x-rays taken, blood drawn, additional IV's inserted, vital stats recorded and monitored.

He was here, and alive, and all of them were going to do their damnedest to keep him that way, Fraiser vowed silently.

Once her critical patient was on his way to the OR, Janet turned to the others. Teal'c was already being checked by one of the senior nurses. Junior would heal him, but the physician would still keep him in the infirmary for observation and supportive care. Daniel was cold and exhausted, like Sam had been, but uninjured.

That left just one member of SG-1 to worry about, and he was now in the capable hands of the SGC's chief surgeon.

Janet tried to get them all to rest, but none of them would. Once their debriefing was over, even Feretti and the rescue team hung around, waiting, pacing, filling the corridor outside the infirmary, talking in low, worried tones,

Finally, hours later, the OR doors opened and O'Neill was wheeled out and whisked into one of the isolation rooms, converted into use as an ICU.

Everyone turned back to the OR doorway when Dr. Warner stepped through, looking worn, but smiling. "We were able to repair the damage. It was a nasty wound, and he lost massive amounts of blood, but he's stabilized. "Warner shook his head. "Once again, he was lucky, damned lucky. A wound like that, on a warm planet, and he'd most likely have bled to death long before we got there. As it was, with the cold slowing the blood loss, it was close, too close."

"But he'll be okay?" Daniel asked, still worried.

Warner nodded. "He should make it."

+++++

Jack O’Neill knew where he was. And he didn’t like it. That was his nature, and the nature of the place he found himself.

He knew he wasn’t awake yet, not really, and only to himself would he admit that he was in fact grateful to be where he was. Thankful to be anywhere, actually, since the last thing he could remember was knowing that he was dying. That’s about all he recalled clearly, everything else about the last time he was awake was pretty hazy. Except for the pain. That he remembered all too well. Hard to forget, actually. Pain was an old and well known adversary, one he had faced far too many times. It was still there, now, hovering the background, waiting, but there, always there.

Doc had good drugs.

Maybe someday he’d tell her that.

Not today, though.

Today he was going to lie here and let the drugs carry him away to somewhere peaceful and painfree.

He knew that was a temporary solution, of course. Pain that intense always came back, because he knew that pain was as stubborn as he was. It didn’t leave quietly, hell no, it hung on and hung around, annoying the hell out of a body, for as long as it could.

Healing brought pain, experience had taught him that, too, The two things were inextricably linked, like night and day, good and evil, old and new, healing and pain, coming only in pairs, at counterpoint. As healing grew, pain would retreat. It was an old dance, and one he’d danced far too many times.

At the moment, though, his body wasn’t really his own. Doc’s happy juice accounted for that, but it was okay, because he knew he wasn’t ready for the fight yet, unprepared to battle anything including the lassitude that engulfed him.

Jack knew how to wait. Most people who knew him wouldn’t think so, but he could. He could be very patient when he had to be.

And now was a time when he had to be.

Ever more aware by the minute, Jack realized that he wasn’t alone. Despite the quiet, there was another presence nearby, the person’s identity revealed by tell-tale soft noises. Every few minutes, Jack heard the soft flutter of a page turning.

Daniel. With a book, or his journal, but always with paper.

Jack drifted back into nothingness, soothed by the quiet sound of friendly companionship. At some point, he began to dream, of Christmas, and Santa Claus, of Charlie singing Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer, of building snowmen, and of the wind whistling across a frozen landscape where an immense herd of giant reindeer played baseball games as they waited only for a foggy Christmas eve.

Strange dreams.

When he next awakened, Daniel was gone, the page sounds replaced by the sharp clicking of keys, someone typing rapidly on a keyboard. Once again, he didn’t need to open his eyes to know who was there with him. Carter, with her laptop, was his visitor. That was good. Meant she was okay, too.

Still later, rising once more through the fog of drug-induced sleep, Jack realized the room was quiet, but not empty. Even, steady breathing, a quiet presence, but a presence none the less... Teal’c. O’Neill was relieved to know the Jaffa was okay, because he did have a dim memory of Teal’c coming to his aid in a fight, and getting hurt, too.

In a fight with Santa Claus? No, wait, Jack searched through the confusion of cottony clouds filling his memory, clouds, and snow, and the North Pole, hmmm, not Santa, but reindeer…

Oh, great, he’d been assaulted by Rudolf? Oh, wasn’t that going to give the Jarheads something to snicker about.

Crap.

He must have made a sound then, because he heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back, felt someone draw closer, and heard a familiar, steady tone. “O’Neill? Are you awake? I have called for Dr. Fraiser.”

Oh damn. Not Fraiser. She’d be asking him to do something impossible, like squeeze her hand or open his eyes, and he didn’t want to do that yet. He wanted to stay here, adrift and unconnected, comfortable.

But she wouldn’t let him.

No one would let him.

The world waited.

Duty called, as it always did. And he would answer.

Another soft voice, but commanding, this one was. “Colonel, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand.”

He felt her hand take his, and instinctively, he responded. Too damn many years following orders, he thought dismally.

“Good, Sir. Now can you open your eyes?”

Of course he could. Simple thing. First thing you did, when waking up. He blinked, his lids feeling heavy as lead. Blinking again, he concentrated on getting his eyes open, then on forcing the blobs and blotches of color into coherent shapes. Doc’s face slowly materialized out of the hazy fog.

She was smiling.

That was good. Bad thing when your doctor frowns at you, that much he remembered.

He tried to smile, too, but that was beyond him. Didn’t matter, though. He’d survived, once more. He’d heal, and the pain would depart, and SG-1 would be right once more. The universe beckoned. This time, he’d stay away from the reindeer. He was much too old to believe in Santa Claus anyway.

+++++The End+++++