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Title: Rainmaker
Author: momoftoad
Category: gen/angst/adventure
Spoilers: None I can think of
Sequel/Season Info: anytime
Rating: PG13
Content Warning: Graphic realism, violence, language etc
Summary: A mission gone bad from the beginning.
Author note: Thanks to all who helped, and to moonpie for making me write this and candace for the beta.
Showtime and MGM/UA own Stargate: SG-1 and all there in. I'm just borrowing them for a bit. All characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM,World Gekko Corp., and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. No copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Rainmaker
by
momoftoad
The MALP had recorded an idyllic setting on P357A4. O'Neill shifted the M-16 in his hand waiting calmly for the last glyph to engage. Around him, Carter was discussing some obscure detail of Gate travel with Daniel. Teal'c stood by his side, staff weapon at the ready. The final glyph engaged and the shimmering blue that was their portal to the next world roared out in front of them. O'Neill was glad to be leaving for the four-day assignment. Half the base was in bed with the flu and the remaining staff was exhausted from taking over duties for them. If their mission were not for mining rights, they would have stayed too.
The MALP trundled through the wormhole gracelessly. In moments, it sent back the image they had hoped for. Weather was unpredictable on P357A4, vacillating between horrific storms and resort weather. Today it was resort weather.
"Ready, campers?" O'Neill asked.
The conversation between the two scientists abruptly halted, Teal'c inclined his head slightly and they stepped in to the wormhole.
Tiny pellets of ice stung Jack's face as he the exited the gate. Thunder cracked, sending both the Colonel and the Jaffa rolling onto the ground, away from the Gate, the staff weapon flying off to one side as they fell to the other. O'Neill looked back at the Gate as the others came through. The sky was black as night, punctuated only by the glow of the gate and the blinding flashes of lightning. Bolts struck the ground around them, shattering boulders and splitting trees.
"Carter, dial us home!" he yelled to her, rising to his feet, giving a backward glance to Teal'c in the process. The big man was up and heading back toward the gate. Carter stood by the DHD patiently waiting for the gate to close so she could reopen it. Jackson retrieved the staff weapon quickly, moving to join Carter next to DHD. He gripped it in one hand, then twirled it upright.
"Daniel, put that down!" O'Neill yelled over the storm. The scientist looked puzzled briefly, and in the second it took for the warning to register, he let loose the staff weapon. But the action came too late. As the last glyph engaged for their journey home, the bolt came, drawn by the weapon. It took both Jackson and Carter down, blowing the crystal in the DHD.
"Teal'c!"
The Jaffa already had Carter in his arms and was stepping back through the portal. O'Neill gathered Jackson over his shoulders and followed, leaving the lightning rod behind.
The embarkation room was chaotic. Carter was lying on the floor, looking pale but moving. O'Neill laid his charge gently beside her. The archeologist did not move.
"Medic!" he yelled, though there was already a team entering the room. There were fewer people than he remembered. Only about six, including Dr. Janet Frasier. The doctor checked Carter for a pulse, nodded to herself and moved to Jackson. She repositioned his head. He did not move. She breathed into his mouth, his chest rose and fell. Her hand slid to his neck.
"Shit! Get the cart!" she barked. "You two, get the Major to the infirmary, stat! Hannah's there. Go now!"
Teal'c hoisted her onto a waiting gurney. O'Neill could see them flying down the hallway. Jackson did not move.
"Up on three!" They hoisted the limp body onto the waiting sheets.
"Get those clothes off! And start CPR!" she barked again, but the medic was ahead of her, pulling off flak jacket and outer garments at an amazing speed. Scissors cut through his underclothes, leaving his torso naked in a puddle of his own clothing.
A second medic was positioning herself at the stricken man's head placing a mask over his nose and mouth and squeezing the attached resuscitation bag. The chest rose and fell, but only with those efforts. The woman who had cut off the clothing had placed a tourniquet on Daniel's right arm and was patting the skin, preparing to insert a needle. The third member of the team placed the cardioversion paddles on his chest, one upper right, the other almost on his left side. The last member of the team probed his neck, then traced a line up the bottom of his ribcage. The lieutenant placed the heel of her hand in the center of his chest, covered it with her other hand and began compressions.
"What happened?" Frasier asked Jack, trying to fine-tune the portable monitor, not looking up from her work. There was a pattern there. "Hold compressions. Anybody feel a pulse?"
The lieutenant stopped. The line on the monitor went flat. The medic at the head of the bed let her fingers drift deftly down to the side of Daniel's neck. She shook her head. The woman who was doing the compressions unbuckled Daniel's belt, unzipped his pants and inserted her hand beneath the olive drab material. She shook her head, withdrew her hand and moved back to her previous position.
"Resume compressions and charge the paddles!"
"200?"
"Per protocol! Colonel?"
"What?"
"What happened?"
"We got through the gate and--"
"200! Clear?" compressions stopped and the medic at the head of the bed dropped the bag and held her hands in the air. The one at Jackson's side did the same thing. The one holding the paddles placed them on Jackson's chest, looked the gurney over from top to bottom twice, then simultaneously pressed the buttons on the side of paddles. Jackson's body arched slightly with the jolt, his arms drawing in toward his chest. A nasty welt rose on his chest.
"Check for pulses…Colonel?"
"We got through the gate--"
"Nothing!"
"Charge to 300. Oh, for chrissake, put some pads on his chest, will you?"
"Charging.."
"You were saying?"
"Lightning. It was a lightning strike."
"300! Everybody clear?" Again Daniel's body leapt.
"Got a pulse with that?"
"How fast do you want this drip?"
"No pulse!"
"Shock him again. 360. Shit. Get me a tube! 8mm. Run it wide open for now."
Once more, the limp body arched.
"We got something, doctor. Could be artifact..."
"Got a pulse with that?"
Fingers flew to his neck and into his groin.
"Nope, nothing. 'You?"
The medic at his side shook his head.
"Continue CPR. Epinephrine, 1mg IV push. Where's that tube? 'You check the balloon?"
There was a nod from someone. Frasier was standing at the head of the bed now, tube in one hand, a cylindrical object in the other, sporting a curved metal projectile. She snapped the projected piece back and a tiny light winked on at the end of it.
"Now."
The lieutenant bagging the patient moved away quickly. Frasier tilted Daniel's head back in an impossible position. O'Neill could see the blade move inside his neck as she looked intently down his throat.
"I need a little pressure. Lieutenant?" The medic was trying to compose herself. Her hands were shaking and it was clear she had to concentrate on every task. Frasier stared at her.
"Jerry, go lie down! Colonel, I need hands now!"
In one stride he was there.
"Put two fingers on his Adam's apple and press down gently…that's right…"
She slid the tube in. He could feel it beneath his fingers, thinking it should have made a grating noise to match the tensions he felt as it brushed up against the ridges in the younger man's neck. Frasier slid the end she was holding to the side of Daniel's mouth and held it there, pulling out a long metal stylet in one fluid movement. With one hand, she grabbed an attached syringe and plunged it down, leaving the awkward appendage attached. She grabbed the bag, popped its mask off, and attached it to the end of the tube and squeezed. Daniel's chest rose and fell. She continued to breathe for him, hanging on to the tube with one hand, bagging with the other.
"Anybody got ears?"
The lieutenant on the side of the bed removed a stethoscope from her neck and listened.
"Right mainstem."
Frasier nodded.
"Colonel, take this bag and squeeze it once every three compressions. We want to hyper-ventilate, folks."
With her now free hand, she grabbed the syringe, pulled the plunger back, pulled the tube out what seemed a miniscule amount and pushed the plunger back down again.
"Now?"
"Sounds good."
"Okay, give me that tape! No, just tear me a piece! You can make it pretty when we get him to the infirmary. How long since the last epi?"
"Five minutes."
"Hold compressions and check for a pulse. Colonel, keep doing what you're doing. Anything?"
"We got v-fib."
"Continue CPR. Okay, give him another amp of epi and one milligram of Atropine. Get ready to shock again. 360."
"Er, Doctor, does she have to keep her hand down there…"
Frasier glared at him, but said nothing. She took looked at the monitor and then back at Jack.
"She's checking for a pulse," she said quietly, no anger in her words. "Her hand has to be there. Colonel, you okay here?"
"Sure."
"Charged. Everybody clear!"
O'Neill kept squeezing the bag. Frasier took it from him and pushed him back slightly from the gurney.
"Clear!" the nurse repeated, placing the paddles on the still chest. She discharged the defibrillator and the archeologist's arms pulled in toward his chest, then fell to his side.
"Got a rhythm, ma'am."
"Hold compressions. Got a pulse with that?"
"Yes, not bounding but I think it's there."
"Check his neck…Oh..." She reached past Jack to Daniel's neck, her fingers probing.
"Yes, it's here too. We get a pressure with that?"
"90/60."
"Not great, but I'll take it. I'll need a code blood panel and some ABG's. Slow his fluids down a little, Lieutenant. Keep bagging, Colonel, until I tell you to stop or we get you some relief."
"I'm fine."
"Pack him up folks, and let's get him to the infirmary." She gave a glance to the floor where Jerry was sitting, her head resting on her legs. "Jerry?"
"Should have stayed in bed…"
"Airman, help her back to her quarters."
"Get that tank on the bed. Colonel, we're going to move fast. Give me the bag--you hold the IV fluids up in the air, as high as you can. Turn that monitor so I can see it. Keep checking for a pulse...Okay, people, let's move!"
They began moving down the hall at a quickened pace. O'Neill juggled the bag and moved with them, surprised at how difficult it was to move quickly and not pull anything out.
In moments they entered the infirmary. It was already filled with victims from the flu epidemic, but an area had been cleared for them. The other patients looked on, curious as the team arrived. Sam and Teal'c were nowhere to be seen, but the Colonel had his mind only on the young man in front of him. They swung the bed deftly around so the head was up against the wall. Frasier indicated he should hang the bag from one of the hooks dangling from the ceiling. He did and she handed him the ambu bag, taking her place at the foot of the bed directing. Gently he squeezed it again and again, watching Daniel's chest rise and fall with each breath.
"Still got a pulse?"
The nurse at the side of the bed nodded, finally removing her hand and reaching for the spaghetti of wires behind her. The other two were buzzing about as well, grabbing little plastic boxes. The light in the room was annoyingly bright and it was generating a terrific amount of heat as well.
"Colonel, are you okay up there? We could use your hands right now, or things will take a little longer."
O'Neill nodded, continuing to do what he was doing. The nurse placed a blood pressure cuff on one arm, and pressed a button. The thing tightened, then slowly released, clicking as it did so. Numbers appeared on the monitor above his head, then squiggles with more numbers, then more squiggles and more numbers. One nurse flipped the sheet off. She and another nurse mechanically stripped the fatigues off of Daniel, exposing him in the bright light. She grabbed one of the little plastic boxes, ripping it open. Without a second thought, she took hold of his penis and began swabbing it with betadine. She then inserted a tube. Almost instantly, it began draining pale yellow fluid. Frasier looked relieved. The nurse pushed on an attached syringe and left.
"Um, Doc, ya think we could cover him a little?"
"Gees, we're trying to save his life and you're worried about his modesty?" She flipped the sheet back over him, returning her eyes to the monitor. One nurse was retrieving another bag of fluids. She squirted something into it, removed the now empty bag from the gate room and hung this one in its place. Another was probing Daniel's arm with a gloved hand, little tubes resting on the bed. She poked his arm with the needle, then pushed a tube into the plastic sleeve. Blood spurted into it, filling it rapidly. She removed that tube and inserted a second, third and fourth before attaching yet another line of IV tubing to the young man's arm.
On the other side, the nurse probed his wrist. Satisfied, she swabbed it with alcohol, then placed her fingers on the underside of his wrist where the pulse was located. She secured it with one hand and stuck the needle in with the other. Daniel jumped at her touch.
"He felt that!" she said, continuing to probe until blood flashed up into her syringe.
"Watch his eyes, Colonel," Frasier said. "Let me know if they start to flutter."
Jack nodded. He began to watch Daniel's eyes intently, disregarding all the chatter around him. Nothing. The eyes did nothing. Sweat began dripping down his neck, trickling between his shoulder blades until it reached the waistband of his fatigues. He was still in full uniform and it was very warm in the room.
"We'll have the vent in a minute, Colonel."
"Sure." He hadn't a clue as to what they were talking about, but he continued doing his job.
"Numbers are looking good. Anything on the eyes? Colonel?"
"No."
She reached over, opened his eyes, flashed a light into each in turn. "Pupils dilated, non-reactive, oh yeah, atropine…" She stood back, frowning. "Let's get a CT of his head, as soon as he's stable. Make certain there's no damage there…"
"What?" Jack asked.
Frasier ignored him. "Terry, Bob, you guys up for a road trip?"
The two nodded and kept working. Jack watched as they put a gown on Daniel, started another IV. Sweat was dripping off his own forehead now. The back of his collar was uncomfortably damp. He watched the younger man's eyes. Just beneath the lids, he thought he saw a flicker of movement.
"Doc, his eyes…"
Suddenly Daniel's eyes fluttered open. They were glazed but only for a moment. He blinked hard, squeezing them closed and open again, wide, filled with terror. His arms shot up to his head, but the Frasier grabbed one and the nurse, Terry, the other, slapping both arms down on the bed. The stricken man writhed away from her touch. Jack dropped the bag and forced his friend's shoulders down into the mattress.
"Daniel, it's all right!" he said as calmly as he could. The chest ceased rising and panic took its place along side fear in those blue eyes. Fraiser barked more orders to her staff, grabbing the bag herself and squeezing the air back into his oxygen deprived lungs. Jack continued to hold him down.
"Daniel, can you hear me? It's me, Jack."
The younger man nodded fast and furiously, still pushing against the restraining hands.
"Lie back in the bed, Daniel. We're back in the SGC. Do you understand?"
He responded by lying back down in the bed, though his eyes were still wide with fear.
"Dr. Jackson?" Frasier asked. "You've got a tube down your throat that's helping you breathe so you can't talk."
He nodded wildly, his eyes darting back and forth, not able to focus on anything.
"We got through the gate, Daniel. 'you remember?"
He nodded, still wild eyed.
"Teal'c and I went first, you and Carter came afterward. It was one hell of a storm. Remember?"
Again he nodded.
"It was a lightning strike," Jack continued, easing up on the restraint and pushing an errant strand of hair off the sweat slickened forehead. "You got hit. But it's okay now. Just rest."
The archeologist focussed briefly on Jack then tried to shut his eyes. They flew open again in an instant, fear returning but lessened now.
"Rest, Daniel. Let the good Doc here do her work. We'll have you lookin' at pieces of junk again in no time."
The phrase brought a smile followed by knitted eyebrows.
"Yeah, I know," he said softly, "artifacts."
The younger man wrenched his hand from the nurse's grip and bent it as far toward his head as he could reach. Jack grabbed it in his own, holding it securely.
"Daniel, we're going to give you a little sedation now," Janet told him. "We need to run some tests and you need to be absolutely still. Do you understand?"
Daniel nodded, not willing to let go of Jack's hand.
"Go ahead," she told the nurse. In moments, Jack felt the grip lessen, then release all together. He laid the hand down on the bed gently.
"Thanks for your help, Colonel. We'll take it from here."
He nodded mutely and watched as they rolled Daniel out of the room, through a door that was at the foot of the bed, and into a long hallway. Jack just stood there, staring down the now empty corridor, numbed. It was very suddenly quiet, the whole room, still. There was a chair in the corner. He sighed and took a seat, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands crossed together. The blood pressure cuff filled again, clicking to no one in particular. In that silence, he waited.
"O'Neill," Teal'c's familiar voice intruded softly, "General Hammond wishes to see us both in the conference room."
Jack pulled himself out of his thoughts and followed the Jaffa.
Hammond was waiting for them there. The General's normal ruddy complexion was pale, his eyes sunken. Flu, O'Neill thought, wondering if he should keep his distance. Beside the General was a handsome man of indeterminate age, dark complected, compact, like a cross between a wrestler and a tennis player. The uniform identified him as Army, his rank, Captain. There was no way to judge his age. On the far side of the desk was young army lieutenant, a woman, ungrown, gawky, with dull brown hair pulled away from her face, wearing glasses. She rose as the two remaining members of SG1 entered the room and stood at attention.
"Colonel, Teal'c, everyone please be seated," the General said, waving his hand to the vacant chairs. They sat.
"Colonel, we must complete the mission your team began on P357A4. Mining rights are vital in that sector." He paused to catch his breath. O'Neill thought the man should be home in bed with the remote control in his hand. At least his frailty kept Jack's mind off his fallen teammates. "Captain Caruso and Lt. Sweet are on temporary assignment to SG1. Your departure is set for 1500."
"General, that's only an hour from now," Jack began to protest.
Hammond held up a hand. "Your mission is vital, Colonel. And you know the implications of leaving a staff weapon behind. It must be retrieved. The Captain is an able archeologist, from SG8 and the Lt. has expertise to rival Major Carter."
"But—"
"Colonel, we don't have time for the luxury of debate. You are now the best team we have and it is vital this mission proceed at once. Get your gear and prepare for departure in an hour."
"Yes, sir!" Jack replied acidly. Hammond pretended not to notice.
O'Neill headed for the infirmary after their impromptu meeting. He found Carter there. She was sleeping quietly in a secluded area not far from Daniel's berth. The archeologist was not back yet from his tests. Reluctantly, he sneaked past the nurses to wake her.
"Carter!" he said, as noisily as he could without arousing attention. "Carter, I need to speak with you! Carter!"
"Wha—huh? Oh, Colonel," she said, trying to focus. Her eyes were scrunched up, the lids barely open. "Sir," she said it like she was finishing a thought. "What?" She managed to look straight at him, trying to sit up.
"Carter, you okay?" he asked, wondering if he should help her or leave her alone.
"Think so." She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, then tried to open them and focus on him.
"I need a favor."
"Yeah, sure, anything."
She was drugged. Happily gorked on some mind dimming juice. "Carter, you know what today is?" he asked her. She closed her mouth and swallowed, scratching her head.
"Um, Sunday?"
Great. "No, it's Thursday. Remember, we went to P357A4, there was this huge storm, we just stepped through the gate and had to turn around and come home…"
"Yeah, sure."
He wasn't at all certain she understood, but he was too pressed for time not to continue. "Something's bothering me about the mission. We shouldn't have stepped into that storm like that. The MALP should have seen it coming. Hammond wants us back there now. Carter! Are you with me here?"
She nodded, seemingly grasping what he was saying, though she was unable to give voice to the words.
"Carter?"
"Yes…sir." She sighed and looked at him. "How's Daniel?"
"Thank you God!" he said, looking briefly at the ceiling. "I don't know, Major. The day?"
"Thursday, and we got hit right after we stepped out of the Gate. Now, what is your favor?"
It was Jack's turn to sigh, this time in relief. "Look into the MALP thing will you? Something's screwy here, but I can't put my finger on it. Hammond wants Teal'c and I outta here in thirty minutes and I don't have the time."
"But--"
"He's assigned a new gal, Lt. Sweet, to take your place, temporarily, and some guy named Caruso--"
"Captain Caruso? From SG8? Stud muffin archeologist with an attitude?"
"How the hell should I know? Short, dark hair, dark eyes, dark. That him?"
"Sounds like it. Real smooth, but Daniel seemed to think he was good at his job, even with the attitude."
"Meaning?"
" I don't know, Colonel. You'll like Sweet, though. She's a good kid. A little green on the gate travel, but clever." She frowned. "I'll keep an eye on Daniel, best I can."
He nodded. Impulsively, he took her hand and gripped it in his own, letting his fear show through for the briefest of moments. "Sam, he nearly died. Frasier is doing what she can for him. Last I knew, it was hopeful. 'Thought you should know."
She nodded. "It was one hell of a jolt, sir. Be careful."
He squeezed her hand gently and left.
The glyphs were engaging, the blue horizon almost in place. Jack looked around at his new team, wishing he had had the time to change his clothes before they returned. A MALP waited patiently at his side to be sent through before they entered. They would be taking no more chances. Jack had made them check the MALP out twice, to be sure the images were accurate, then did it a third time himself.
Teal'c stood calmly, as he always did, this time no staff weapon, but a zat gun at his side. Sweet looked nervous, but smiled, her gawky frame dwarfed by fatigues that didn't quite fit. Caruso was hard to decipher. His dark eyes flashed some hidden emotion. It looked out of place for the resident archeologist to be carrying an M-16, but the gun looked like it belonged at his side, melded into his being like an extra appendage.
The MALP moved along the ramp and through it. Like children anticipating Santa Claus, they waited for its reply. After a few moments, an image appeared on the screen to their right. The camera on the MALP panned the hills. A few high clouds were all that remained of the storm.
"Saddle up, kids," Jack told them. He looked back to the observation booth. Hammond was there, watching. Suddenly, Janet Frasier burst into the room. She was a little breathless, as though she had been running. She moved quickly to Jack's side, taking his arm and moving him away from the others.
"I wanted to let you know that everything looks good for Daniel," she told him quietly. "He's still sedated, but he's assisting the ventilator. The tests were all negative. You always worry about kidney failure with electric shock, but he's putting out urine at a normal rate. If everything goes as well as I think it will, we should be able to pull the breathing tube out by morning, and he'll be pestering the nurses by tomorrow afternoon. Just thought you might like to know that before you left."
Jack nodded to her, relief obvious on his face. "Thanks." He turned back to his new team. "Let's go, people!" he told them. With a wink, he left her on the ramp, for the second time in one day stepping through the wormhole to P357A4.
Teal'c looked around for the missing staff weapon. It disturbed him greatly that they had left it behind, possibly for some child to find. It was there, somehow embedded in the DHD. O'Neill and Caruso had begun scouting the perimeter. The normal team functions were now distorted, oddly disjointed. The woman, Sweet, was repairing the DHD, not paying attention to her surroundings before she began her work. The man, Caruso, unlike Daniel Jackson, prowled the perimeter with O'Neill, walking in the Colonel's footsteps.
There were markers posted in a ring forming a fifty foot radius around the gate. Teal'c approached one, opposite O'Neill and his shadow. The language on it was familiar, but he couldn't make out the words. The Jaffa studied it for a moment, then motioned to Caruso. The Captain ignored him, continuing to follow O'Neill.
"Caruso," he called across the ring. "I have found something interesting here. I need your assistance to decipher it."
The Captain looked at O'Neill as if asking for approval. The Colonel shrugged and motioned wordlessly toward Teal'c. Caruso then made his way to the Jaffa. Teal'c watched as the man traced the symbols with one hand, balancing his rifle with the other.
"I cannot make out the final symbols. A warning of some sort, is it not?"
"No, ah, it looks like a Mayan script…yes, that's it. It's a welcoming emblem." He stood back half a pace and studied it again. "Ah, I can see how you may have been mistaken. See the glyph on the bottom there? The round one with the arms outstretched?"
Teal'c bent over the marker studying it carefully. He shook his head.
"Daniel Jackson has identified this symbol as a warning."
"Daniel's not here, Teal'c," O'Neill said bluntly, joining the two. "Caruso, what does the rest of it say? Maybe there's something out of context here?"
From his position three feet from the marker, Caruso began gesturing, casually waving his right hand.
"It's a welcoming marker, Colonel. The lines, roughly translated, read: The people of Felistini welcome travelers from the Eye of the Circle. We bid you enter our world, come join us in the feast of friendship, for we welcome one and all. Our gifts are freely given for we relish the interactions between our peoples. Welcome."
"I am certain Daniel Jackson translated that symbol as 'warning' not welcome."
O'Neill bent over to look at the last glyph more closely. "Looks like the guy's got lightning bolts in his hands or something."
"Those are shocks of wheat. Look carefully at the ends."
Teal'c joined the Colonel, examining the symbol. He shook his head. "The Colonel is correct. They appear to be lightning bolts."
"You certain about this Caruso?" O'Neill asked.
The tanned man smiled, his white teeth flashing behind an unreadable smile. "I am certain. Jackson and I had this discussion a while back. I finally convinced him he was wrong."
"Okay." O'Neill exchanged the slightest glance with Teal'c before going back to checking the perimeter once more. Teal'c suppressed a grunt. The look said the Colonel didn't trust their new archeologist either.
Sam looked up at the curtains surrounding her bed, wishing they were open. It was dark in the room. Though there was little natural light at this level, they tried to maintain some semblance of night vs. day. She was a little tired, but felt no worse than she had twelve hours before, when she had spoken to the Colonel. Bored though sporting a tremendous headache, she reached for the call light and pressed the little red button.
Soon, a perky little nurse entered her cubicle.
"Help you ma'am?" she asked. Sam marveled at the pressed uniform. And every hair on her head was in place too.
"Um, I'd like to see Dr. Frasier, if she's around," Sam told her.
"Well, it is 0200, ma'am. But I'll pass your message along. Hmm, looks like that IV's through. I'll be back."
Sam sighed to herself. Two thoughts refused to let her sleep. The Colonel had said Daniel had been nearly killed by the lightning strike. She wanted to see him desperately. No one said anything about the young man since O'Neill had left this afternoon. Or was that yesterday afternoon. Janet would likely be in her office sleeping, like she always did whenever anybody was really sick. Obsessive behavior seemed to be a required trait in the SGC.
The nurse returned with another bag of fluids.
"Do I really need that?" Sam demanded, knowing her departure would be delayed by at least another four hours.
"Doctor's orders, ma'am," Nurse Perky replied, unplugging the old bag and plugging in the new one. "It's the last one, though. Dr. Frasier said you could probably go home in the morning."
"Nurse, how is Dr. Jackson?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't say. It would be a breach of patient confidentiality."
Sam grabbed Perky's arm, forcing her to look away from the watch on her wrist and back into Sam's blue eyes.
"Daniel's family. My family. If you don't tell me, I'll find out on my own." Her voice was cold, colder than she had intended. Nurse Perky was looking at her with scared eyes, though her reply was cool.
"You'll have to ask Dr. Frasier in the morning."
Sam frowned and let the arm go. Perky and unintimidated.
"Can I get you anything else, Major?" the younger woman asked kindly. Sam lay back in the bed, watching the drips in the chamber of the IV. She wasn't going to push it now. She could find Daniel on her own. The infirmary wasn't that big.
"No, thank you," she said, closing her eyes and feigning sleep.
As soon as Perky was gone, she got up, taking the IV bag with her, pulled a blanket around her shoulders and stole out of the room, searching for the archeologist. Two beds down, she found him.
Daniel lay on a cloud of white sheets, covered by a white blanket. Dark golden hair lay matted on his forehead, askew in the dim light. A monitor above his head posted numbers and lines she only began to understand. But they were nice and steady, a slow even pace as they continued their endless journey. An empty chair beckoned at his bedside. With a sigh, she seated herself, tossing her own IV onto his bed. She then reached for his hand. It was warm and dry. Entwining her fingers into his, she lay her head over her own arms and onto his shoulder. Unexpectedly, he raised his other hand and stroked her hair once, then returned it to his side. Quickly she looked at his face. It was peaceful, but his eyes were closed and that tube still stuck out of his mouth. She put her head back down and closed her own eyes. The Colonel may not have approved, she thought before drifting off, but she would be there for him.
Quiet voices entered her consciousness. A hand was on her shoulder, shaking her awake.
"Sam," the voice said, "c'mon now. Back to your own bed."
"Janet?"
"Yes. Janet. And tonight I am you doctor. Back to bed."
Sam opened her eyes fully and looked at the petite woman. Two aides stood behind her, ready to enforce her commands.
"You wouldn't."
"C'mon, Sam."
"How's Daniel?" she asked stubbornly.
"'Looks like he'll be fine. We'll take that breathing tube out in the morning and if he is does well, he should be out of here in a couple days. Now, I was planning on letting you go later this morning. You want to stay a little longer?"
She shook her head. Leaning over, she brushed aside his matted hair and kissed him on the forehead. "Everybody deserves someone to look after them," she whispered. "I'll be back."
She allowed them to put her back in bed, watched without complaint as Perky slipped something into her IV tubing. Chemical restraint, she thought. Daniel would be fine. Now for the second thought. What about the MALP? Her mind racing with ideas, she drifted off to sleep.
The staff weapon was wedged tightly into the DHD. Jack watched as, with something short of a technical miracle, Sweet had gotten the DHD to work, in spite of that foreign presence. But, with too little time to study the problem further, she explained she had to leave the weapon where it was. She assured Jack that it could not be fired from its current position.
They traveled the remainder of the day up into the hills surrounding the Gate. It had disappeared from view shortly after they left the outer markers. There were similar markers all along the trail. At each one, Caruso stopped and spouted off a translation. He took no notes though. Jack was unimpressed. But if Daniel thought he was okay, that was good enough.
They reached an opening in the forest and set up camp. After a quiet round of MRE's, they turned in. Neither Jack nor Teal'c felt like talking. The silence was a little awkward, the new members not fitting in like the old ones. Jack didn't care. He had too many things on his mind as it was. The incident with the MALP was bothering him. And it was odd they had not yet seen any signs of people. Sweet took the first watch, followed by Teal'c.
The night was dark on P357A4, there being no moon. Jack took the middle watch. The weather was perfect, resort style, with no sign of the turbulent storm they had witnessed that afternoon. 0400. Time to wake Caruso. He went to the compact man's bed, and shook him awake.
An eager smile and a nod greeted O'Neill. Did he imagine a wink in there too? He hoped not. It was bad enough he had been shadowed all day. Boot lickers. He allowed his thoughts to travel light years away to the infirmary where he had last seen Daniel. Carter would take care of him.
"My turn, eh, Colonel?" Caruso said, rolling off his blanket. He picked up the M-16 that lay by his bedding and moved to the fire. "A pleasure to do the last watch, sir," he continued, white teeth flashing a smile in the dark.
"Yeah, sure, whatever."
"Sam," a voice came to her through the last images of the night. She regretfully dismissed the players of her dream and opened her eyes. Janet was standing in front of her, dressed in hospital scrubs, a stethoscope hanging around her neck like a badge of office.
"Um, hi," she said foggily.
"We're getting your clothes together. Ah, here they are now. As soon as you're dressed, you can leave."
"Okay." She looked up at the petite doctor, finally able to focus. "Daniel?"
Janet grinned. "You can talk to him on your way out."
Sam breathed a little prayer of thanks, took her clothes and began dressing without waiting for Janet to depart. Her head still throbbed dully.
"Um, Janet, if I complain of a headache, are you going to make me stay?"
"Headache?"
"Answer first."
"No." She reached into her pocket and withdrew a pad, scribbled something on it and tore off the top page. "Give this to the nurse before you leave. She'll give you something for it. Non-barbiturate, I promise."
Sam nodded, taking the note and slipping it into her pocket. Only her shoes were left to be pulled on as she finished dressing.
"I want you to take it easy for the next couple days. Okay? And stay away from anybody who's got the flu. You don't need anything else."
"If I haven't gotten it by now, I probably won't."
"Sure."
"I'll be in my lab, as soon as I leave here."
"Okay, but take it easy."
Sam nodded, finishing the last stroke of the shoelaces. She was up slowly, not wanting to aggravate her head, and stepped out into the curtained hallway leading to Daniel.
The head of his bed was up, bringing him to a sitting position. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted in sleep. No tubes protruded unnaturally from his face and someone had combed his hair. The monitor above his head still held lots of information for anyone who knew what it meant.
"Daniel," she called softly, crossing the short distance to his bedside and standing there. She took his hand in hers. "Daniel," she repeated. Lids fell away from the blue eyes and the mouth shut as he swallowed away sleep.
"Sam?" His voice was unnatural, froggy and high pitched like he had just inhaled helium.
"Yes, it's me." She sat in the chair still positioned by his bedside. "How are you feeling?"
"Not bad," he answered, though his eyes said otherwise. "A bit of a headache. Where is everybody?"
"Teal'c and the Colonel went back to P357A4 to continue the mission and retrieve Teal'c's staff weapon. You remember what happened?"
He shook his head. "Last thing I remember was Jack yelling at me to drop something--the staff weapon? Then a flash. Everything else is foggy."
"I can understand that."
He glanced deliberately at her hand, his eyes knitting when he found the bandage there from her IV site.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine. It was a lightning strike. Took us both out, but you took the brunt of it."
"Stupid move, picking up that weapon."
"Quit. We have other problems."
"Oh?"
"I hate to do this to you, but I'm going to need help. We don't have the luxury of time right now."
He was suddenly very focused. "What?"
"The Colonel thinks something went wrong with the MALP before we arrived on the planet. Otherwise, why would we have gotten there in the middle of a raging storm?"
He nodded. "That doesn't make a whole lot of sense." He paused, apparently trying to refocus, rethink. "There are pictures of the markers around the gate on record, right?"
"Only if you're up for it. Janet will kill me."
He grinned. "Na, she'll thank you. It'll give me something to do besides annoy the nurses."
She grinned back at him and left to retrieve the pictures.