Author: BadgerGater

Email: [email protected]

Category: Missing & tag scene for Tangent

Season: Four

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: None, except Jack's talking so watch the language

Spoilers: the obvious, for Tangent

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Dearly wish I did.

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

Funny. I've always loved the stars. And now it looks like I'm going to be entombed out here among them.

Gives a whole new meaning to the name DeathGlider.

I'm trying to keep those same things out of my own voice, but it's hard. I don't want them to worry. I know they've done their best, all of them, to get us back.

Crap.

Apophis got us anyway, the son of a bitch. He's been dead how many times, and we can't even escape him.

Killed by a dead snakehead.

This is such a bad way to go.

Well, any way is a bad way, actually.

Sure, Teal'c said we die well, but I disagree. There's no good way to die, because dead is dead. Some ways are uglier than others, some ways are more painful than others, some ways are more drawn out than others, some ways are quick, and some ways are slow, but it doesn't matter in the end.

Dead is dead.

Crap.

<><><><>

I'm trying not to think about it, but I can't avoid it. There's nothing else to do out here, but think. I mean, you try telling yourself not to think and what's the first thing you do? Start thinking, of course.

No wonder my head hurts.

There’s not much for distractions out here, although the view is gorgeous, I can’t deny that. We’re surrounded by an inky blackness littered with brilliant lights, great swirling bands of glowing jewels. I can still make out some familiar constellations, we're not that far from Earth yet. They’re so much brighter here, so close I feel like I could reach out and touch them; so much more brilliant than they appear through the telescope on the roof of my house… the house I’ll never see again…

Don’t go there, Jack.

I'm trying to sleep, but that's not working either. My head is pounding, and all the rest of me aches from these interminable hours cramped up in the seat of the glider. More than anything I want to simply stand up and stretch, just for a moment, work the kinks out of my back and the ache out of my knees and the numbness out of my butt. Hey, you think it's easy, then you try strapping yourself down to a seat for 24 hours and see how long it is before your body starts to protest. Vociferously. Viciously. I'm way the hell too old for this, but then, of course, I won't be getting any older.

My numb fingers fumble ineffectually at the radio button. Before it's too late I'd like to tell the others....what? I don't know. Tell them to take care of each other, tell them not to give up, tell them not to grieve for me, that it's okay because at last all the hurt will be over. But you know, I don't want to give up. I'm not ready to quit. Even now, somewhere deep down inside is that little bitty spark that's never quite gone out, no matter how bad the mess I was in-- the one that kept me alive nine days in Iran, and 109 days in Iraq, and all those endless, hopeless days after Charlie...

Charlie…

This is one big and honkin' space sized headache.

Some aspirin would be really, really nice.

<><><><><>

I'm cold. We turned up the heat a bit a while ago, enough to keep my fingers and toes from freezing but it’s not working now. I'm not sure if the heat is going out, or if the cold is finally seeping into my bones after all these hours.

I ache in every one of those dozen or more bones I've broken over the years.

Nearly twenty-four hours now since I climbed into the second seat on this thing, expecting a fun little ride, a chance to show off for that Pentagon guy, a chance to have a little high-speed fun. Hoping before we were done that I could talk Teal'c into letting me take the stick for a few minutes, try out this baby. Sure, my pilot's license is a little out of date, but some things you never forget. And I seriously doubt the FAA is going to come checking my credentials.

I want to do something, go down fighting, not just sitting here, waiting for the end…

I hate waiting…

God, my head hurts.

Hurts...

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

Noise.

Words.

Listen up, Jack.

Carter is talking to me. Carter? Where did Carter come from? How did she get out here? Wasn’t it just me and Teal’c? Is it really Carter? “Hi, Carter.” I have to listen, have to follow her orders. Hey, wait, I'm the one who's supposed to give the orders, right? Now she's giving orders. Maybe she got promoted. Wow.

Can she order my head to stop hurting? Please.

It's so hard to think. Head hurts. Brain's foggy.

Just remember, this is Carter. She'll save us. She always saves us. Carter's smart, way smarter than me. Just do what Carter says, Jack, just do it. Don't think, just obey. You can do that.

It's just so hard to concentrate, to hold onto the thoughts, they keep sliding away, hiding behind the drumbeat rumbling through my head, obliterated by the pain in my skull...

Don't think, Jack, just do what Carter says.

<><><><>

I'm drifting through space, space walking. Cool. Wow. I want to giggle, but that takes more coordination than I've got, and then I feel the familiar thrum of transport rings...

I can't breath. I really can't breathe this time. My lungs are burning, on fire, heaving desperately for air that's not there, and then the heavenly lights are gone and I’m somewhere, and with my last awareness my fingers fumble at my face mask, and it's open, open to the air…

Air.

Air?

We’re on a ship.

Oh God, my head hurts. My hands fly to my temples, as if the motion of pressing against my skull could somehow keep my brain from leaking out. The air is helping, I tell myself. I'll be okay. See, the blackness is receding with each shuddering breath as my lungs and heart settle into a more normal rhythm.

How did I get here?

Oh, the rings, right. Rings.

Hi, guys. I waggle my fingers in a little wave.

Jacob looks worried. Maybe I should say something.

"Jacob. Thanks for stopping by."

He smiles, which makes me feel better. "What the hell. I was in the neighborhood. You need a lift home?"

"Yes, Sir. Thank you."

I reach out with my arm and Daniel takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.

Nearly.

The floor slides away underneath me, my legs buckle like undercooked spaghetti, and I find myself tumbling gracelessly back to the floor.

"Jack?"

"Think I'll just stay down here for a few more minutes. Till my lungs clear." I mumble, closing my eyes in hopes that the familiar darkness will assuage the man with the jackhammer drilling holes in my skull. It's not working. Rubbing my temples with my hands doesn't help, either. I pop my eyes open for a second, see Daniel's face all worried. "Did anybody get my request for aspirin?"

"No," Daniel sounds even more worried than he looks. "No. Sorry. We had to leave in such a hurry, and we didn't know who or what we'd find, so we didn't bring anything."

"Oh. Damn."

Daniel's voice is softer, he must be turning away to ask. "Is there a first aid kit on this ship?"

I hear Sam's worried answer. "No."

Footsteps echo across the deck. Damn, does she have to stomp her way across the floor?

"Sir, are you all right?"

I let my eyelids flicker open once more. "No, I'm not. Headache," I say in a whisper that rumbles through my skull. I pull my hands up to cradle my head. God, I've had headaches before, concussions, a skull fracture, migraines, but never anything like this. Never anything where it felt like my skull was being squeezed flat, one brain cell at a time. I bit my lip to hold back a moan of pain, sliding flat on my back on the floor, arms wrapped around my head. I'd be forever grateful if my skull would just explode and get it over with.

"Sir?" now Carter's voice sounds scared.

"Jack?"

I don't want to, but I open my eyes, nod slightly, just enough to send the waves of pressure sloshing around inside my head and this time I'm not quick enough to stop the moan.

"Jack!" Daniel sounds both worried and scared now. Not a good sign.

More footsteps, thundering across the deck. I know they're not that loud, but they sound awful.

I recognize Jacob's voice again. "Let's get him on a bunk."

Hands slide under my shoulders, and I feel myself being lifted. Awkwardly, I try to help, try to force rubbery legs underneath myself, but nothing's working very well.

"Easy, easy. Let us do it, Jack," I hear Jacob say, and then I'm being laid down on something soft, a Tel'tac bunk. I know about these. Slept on them before. Oh please, just leave me alone and let me rest now. I feel a shiver slide across my skin.

"I think he's going into shock," I can hear the frown in Carter's voice. I just wish she wasn't shouting.

"Damn. This isn’t good." That's Jacob, always a fountain of optimism and good cheer.

"Here, Sir." Carter's voice.

Something soft and warm is draped over me. I manage to lift one eyelid enough to see Daniel tucking a blanket around me, Carter handing him another one.

God, that feels good, and this time the sigh is a little moan of comfort and gratitude.

"Better, Sir?"

"Hmmmm." Not much of an answer, but the best I can do under the circumstances. I hope they understand. I snuggle down into the welcome warmth, and try to tame the hammer wielder inside my head. If only he'd take a break, maybe I could sleep, rest, clear that fuzzy feeling out of my skull that just won't go away. Well, okay, right, that won’t do it either, not with damn near every muscle in my body spasming like a puppeteer is pulling the strings. And did I mention that I’m cold? Like I spent a week outside in a Minnesota blizzard? Without a coat? I can’t stop the chills which keep setting off the muscle spasms which makes my head ache which means I’m really not having any fun at all.

"Jack?" Daniel's talking to me.

I open one eye experimentally, wincing at the blindingly bright lights that exacerbate the pounding inside my skull. "Daniel?" I answer softly.

"Here," he slides an arm under my shoulder, lifts me as Jacob reaches out with a cup. Sheesh, I didn't even realize how raw my throat was, how thirsty I was. I sip gratefully, cool, clear, plain water.

I empty the cup and Daniel lets my shoulders back down.

My head hurts, my chest still aches, my muscles quiver, but I'm feeling warmer....

Sleep. I'll just sleep a minute, then talk to the guys.

<><><><><>

I don't know how long I slept, but it definitely wasn't long enough. My head was still throbbing steadily, my vision a little fuzzy, sort of gray and wobbly around the edges, and when I tried to sit up, I couldn't do more than raise my head an inch or two. Damn.

Imagine the worst case of the flu you’ve ever had, and multiply it by about a hundred, and you’d at least be close.

I was so not having a good day.

"Find that aspirin yet?" I asked hopefully.

"Sorry. None of us have anything. But we're only a couple of hours from Earth."

"Good." I relaxed on the bunk, letting my eyes close. Daniel placed a wet cloth across my forehead, soothing, but not enough, way far from enough.

Footsteps again. "How is he?" Carter asked quietly.

"Sorry, Sir," she said, and I realized she was keeping her voice low. "I was hoping you were still sleeping. How do you feel?"

"Just fine except for the jackhammer guy in my head."

"Right. Well, I've been talking to Janet, and she'll be waiting at the chopper."

"Dad will use the rings to set us down in a remote clearing about a half hour from the base, Sir. Sorry." I think she realizes that a nice noisy, bouncy chopper ride is the last thing I'm wanting.

Don't complain, Jack, I reminded myself. At least you're not in need of that box Carter threatened you with. Being alive with a headache beats being serenely dead, any day, any way.

With a sigh, I let myself sink back on the bunk, trying to sleep, managing only to doze.

<><><><>

Kathump Kathump KATHUMP.

First I thought it was the jackhammer guy in my head, and then I thought maybe it was that helicopter. Finally, I realized the pounding was something else, a vibration humming through the whole ship. Oh good, what did we do, hit an intergalactic iceberg? It would be just my luck to get rescued by the spaceship Titanic.

The vibration was intensifying, each harmonic tremor magnifying the pain in my head, as if it needed any help. Dimly, I could hear Jacob shouting at Carter, Teal'c's unruffled tones answering calmly. Shit. Shit. Shit. What was happening? Oh damn, I pushed myself upright, sliding off the bunk, took a step as the floor wavered. I wasn't sure if that was really happening, or just going on inside my head, but I needed to get out to the cockpit to find out what the hell was happening.

Never got there. One minute I was mostly upright and moving generally forward and the next I was on the floor, curling into a fetal position that had every muscle screaming in protest, my arms wrapped around my head because if that freakin' vibration didn't stop my head was going to snap right off my shoulders and....

Silence.

Blessed silence. No vibration. No tremors. No humming ship noises rattling my already rattled brain.

Thank you, God.

I could still hear my shipmates, however, shouting instructions.

I think I must have made some noise, then, because all of a sudden Daniel was there, kneeling beside me on the floor.

"Jack? What are you doing out here?"

"What happened?" I managed to mutter.

"The ship's hyper-drive went out.”

"Wha...?"

"The hyper-drive quit. Again."

"Again?"

"On the way to rescue you and Teal'c we, ah, pushed it sort of hard..."

"Sort of hard?"

"Um, we were in a bit of a hurry, and ah, Jacob mentioned something about 132% of capacity, I think it was. We'd get vibrations like that every once in a while. Had to stop to make repairs..."

"Temporary repairs, obviously," I groused.

"Well, yeah, Jacob did say something about temporary. But we were in a bit of a hurry at the time."

"Hmmmm."

"So, you okay?"

"Not after that." With Daniel's help I pushed myself into a sitting position. "You'd think a race as *advanced* as the Tok'ra would build ships a little less *primitive* wouldn't you?"

"Well, this primitive ship did save your life, Jack," I heard Jacob say as he passed by the door on his way to what I figured was probably the engine compartment, or whatever passed for an engine compartment on this thing.

<><><><>

Daniel helped me back to the bunk once more, not that I was complaining, mind you, it was softer than the floor, and warmer, too.

Finally, Teal'c came in. "General Carter and Major Carter have undertaken repairs to this craft. It will take a lengthy period of time."

"Oh, good. Lengthy. What's lengthy, eh?" I opened one eyelid to peer apprehensively at the big Jaffa.

"Lengthy appears to be a word similar to nudge, O'Neill, an unspecified figure given to assuage the inquirer when one is unable to provide a distinct answer."

I'd have laughed out loud if even the thought of laughing wasn’t enough to make my skull disintegrate.

"Major Carter did say that she was unsure if the drive could be repaired."

"Don't tell me, we're adrift again? What is this, Lost in Space and we're the Robinsons?"

"I do not know the Robinsons, O'Neill, but I can assure you that we are not lost. And without the hyperdrive, we will still reach Earth within 48 hours."

Where the hell’s an intergalactic tow truck when you need one, eh?

<><><><>

I dozed. I still couldn't manage a real sleep, although I hadn't slept in two days. I was so far past tired I couldn't relax, not to mention that little complication of the headache. Have I mentioned the headache? Big and honkin', giant sized, mother of all headaches.

After a couple hours of trying, I finally gave up with the trying to sleep thing. When I opened my eyes, first thing I saw was Teal'c, sitting on the floor beside the bunk.

"O'Neill, how are you feeling?" he asked, softly.

"Not so fine yet, Brother Teal'c. You? Any lingering ill effects from our little death by glider joyride?"

"Well, that's a good thing because this is one ugly headache."

"Dr. Fraiser said such would be the expected result of excess Carbon Dioxide and inadequate oxygen. A painful condition, though temporary."

"Ah, well, that's a good thing," I had my eyes closed again. "She didn't happen to say how temporary?"

"No."

"Another one of those indistinct, assuaging words. Hmmm." I wiped a hand across my face, and made another fervent wish for aspirin. Damn. How could the Tok'ra go flitting off across the galaxy without so much as bandaids and aspirin? How silly is that? Every Boy Scout knows you need a first aid kit. Just because they've got snakes for live-in healers...

"Teal'c, uh, about what you said to me, out there, about being a brother? Did you mean that? It wasn't just some 'console the man cause he's dying' kind of thing?"

"I would not do such a thing, O'Neill. What point is there to lying to a dying man? And we were not dying."

"Not quite." I thought a moment. "Well, it was a really nice thing to say. Kind of took me by surprise, though. And, uh, afterwards, when you were kel no’reeming, I thought I should have said that I, uh, knew this whole thing wasn't your fault."

"Apophis took what was nearly a fatal action because of my betrayal."

"No, he boobytrapped his death gliders because he couldn't control you, and he's that damn afraid that others will follow your lead. It was an act of a desperate man, er, snakehead. And obviously, one that gained him nothing."

Teal'c nodded. "You are right, O'Neill, it was a spiteful and useless action."

"Yeah, typical snakehead mentality. So what happened wasn't your fault. If anybody's to blame, it's those damn Area 51 guys for not finding that little trap." I tried once more to relax. "So, brother, I can call you brother, can't I? On Chulak, what do brothers do?"

"Do? Brothers are brothers, O'Neill. It requires no action to formalize such a relationship."

I smiled. "Ah, but here on Earth, brothers have to act like brothers. Do things together. Like go fishing. So, since you're my brother, we've *got* to go fishing together. Real soon."

"O'Neill..."

"You'll love it, Teal'c. Promise. The lake. The loons. The fresh air. The beer..." Guess it was the thought of fishing that finally prompted me to relax and fall asleep at last.

<><><><>

"Sir..."

God, why can't these people let me sleep? Do I have a sign on my forehead, ‘wake him the minute he gets comfortable’, huh? I forced my eyelids open. "What?" I asked grumpily.

"I brought you something to eat."

Hmmm. The thumping in my head had been so intense I'd forgotten the growling in my empty stomach.

“Janet says you need to eat something.”

The Major waved a cup of something in front of my face. It smelled pretty bad, and tasted even worse. With the skill of a Special Forces trained operative, I managed not to gag on it or spit it out in her face. I gulped down one mouthful and pushed the cup away. "What the hell is that?" I snapped, then immediately regretted raising my voice, because my own shout had upped the headache-o-meter back into the extreme danger range.

"Soup, Sir."

"Soup? That's soup?" Man, my head was pounding, but even the mother of all headaches shouldn't make soup taste that bad.

"Best we could do, Sir, with the stores on board," Carter tried to explain.

I eyed the soup suspiciously. "Oh, great, from the kitchen of the Tok'ra Gourmet? Let me tell you, it's never going to make it to a grocery store shelf near you. That stuff's awful."

"But it's nutritious."

"Yeah, right," I pinched the bridge of my nose with one hand, hoping that would make the world less bleary. It didn't work. "Look, don't you have something else?"

"This is it, Sir."

"Then I'll wait 'til we're home." It really was that bad.

"You need to eat now, Sir. Dr. Fraiser said it's important for you to get something nutritious in your stomach."

"Well, I'm not sure if I get *that* in my stomach that I'll be able to keep it there." Carter looked chagrined. Hell, she'd just saved my life, I owed her an attempt. "But I'll try."

The things I do for my team.

<><><><>

They didn't get the drive fixed.

It took us another two days to reach Earth orbit. I slept, or tried to sleep, mostly dozed and fretted, as the hours passed slowly. Finally, Carter came to fetch me.

"We're going to transport down, now, Sir."

"Oh, good."

I leaned on Teal'c, the two of us following Daniel and the Carters to a spot in the middle of the cargo hold. The rings appeared and the next thing I knew, I was standing back on good old terra firma, smack in the middle of a mountain meadow. Shit, even the trees looked good, that's how glad I was to be home. Carefully, letting Teal'c steady me, I turned my still throbbing head in the direction of the voices behind me. Doc, a bunch of medical staffers, some SFs and an ambulance stood waiting.

No chopper, thank God.

I raised a hand to wave. "Greetings, Earthlings. Take me to your leader." None of them smiled, especially not Doc. "Hi folks. Nice of you to come and meet us."

Doc headed straight for me. That's usually not a good sign. She wanted the orderlies to bring a stretcher, but I insisted I could walk a hundred feet to the ambulance, and managed the feat with great aplomb, I might add. The bright sunlight was making my headache spike, but other than that, things were pretty damn wonderful.

Home. Back on Earth, in the land of the free and the home of the brave. Warm. Alive. Mostly coherent. And about to get some real food and some aspirin.

<><><><>

Back at the SGC, Doc quickly started doing all those nasty medical things I really don't like, poking and prodding and sticking me with needles. In between she kept asking me questions, way too many questions, most of which I had no answers for anyway. Mostly, I tried to ignore all the goings on and be my usual noble, stoic self, which was much easier once she gave me something for the headache.

In fact, whatever the heck sort of pill it was that she gave me had me sound asleep before she was done with even half of her thousand and one tests.

<><><><>

Footsteps woke me. I knew who it was even before I opened my eyes, because General Hammond strides into the infirmary like he owns the place, well, I guess because in a way he does. Most everyone else sort of sneaks in quietly, hoping not to be spotted. But not the boss.

When he saw my eyes were open, he gave me that avuncular smile. "Sorry, Colonel, didn't mean to wake you."

"No trouble, Sir," I sat up a little straighter on the bed. "I wasn't sleeping anyway."

"Ah, hah. How are you feeling, Jack? Dr. Fraiser says you'll be fit for duty in a few days."

"Better. Ready to go home, if you'd let me."

"That's the doctor’s decision, Colonel."

I nodded dispiritedly. Well, at least I'd tried. Seemed even the General wasn't about to overrule ol' Doc Fraiser.

"Get some rest, Jack." He turned to go.

I couldn’t resist. "So, General, I guess I must have missed your last transmission."

He stopped, and turned back toward me. "Last transmission, Colonel?" There was a questioning look on Hammond's face.

"You know, when we were back on the glider and things looked grim, the last goodbye message, the one where you were going to say all sorts of nice things about me, about my dedication, hard work, sense of humor and all around good guy-ness..."

Hammond grinned. "Ah, that one."

"You can just tell me now, Sir, if you'd like."

The grin faded. "Colonel, I'll just save that speech. And hope I never do have to use it." With a shake of his head, he turned toward the door. "Goodnight, Jack."

"Goodnight, Sir."

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

The End