Part 25
Jack had trouble falling asleep. At first his brain had been too alert, his thoughts racing a mile a minute, a whirring blur that added to the thumping within his sinuses. The scene in the Doctor’s office repeated itself, over and over, like a nightmare that wouldn’t go away. Tossing and turning, covering his eyes, removing his arm from across them, staring up at the ceiling, not looking at anything, trying to focus on the insect crawling across the corner of the ceiling, squeezing his eyes tight to block out everything…. Everything….
But nothing helped. His demons were within.
He tried a spell at the table and chairs, resting on his elbows and fidgeting with a small tag he’d found, for some unexplainable reason, in the bottom of his pocket. He tried folding his arms, laying his head down, closing his eyes.. but all he could do was recall the moment Janet said the words that would forever change his life: ‘Jack, these are your results’.
Every cough sounded different somehow. The dryness at the back of his throat caught his attention as he doggedly tried to relieve it with several glasses of water – but it didn’t ease it. His headache, a throbbing so severe that it hurt to even blink, seemed to wipe away his energy. He could clearly hear the sound of his blood rushing in his ears and thought about that a moment. Thought about the blood…
Thought about Philip. This hell, this private hell that he knew he could share with no one, had been a part of Philip’s life too. He had, on rare occasions, sat and thought about his lover’s reactions to the news. He wondered if he felt alone. He wondered how he could tell Graham. He wondered how he had the strength to tell him – all those months ago. He wondered how he had the strength to get up and go on… When Jack felt so damn weak. So lifeless.
He tried to console himself with the notion that now they had the ability to share.. not only their heart and mind and soul.. But now they had the ability to share their body’s as well. What damage could come of it now? He tried to focus on the thought of surprising Philip, taking him and making love with him, and facing the truth to it all after the deed – when they were curled up together before the fireplace. But he knew he couldn’t. Philip, despite his protestations and pretense, was very ill. Jack knew it. He only wished Philip trusted him enough to tell him. Somehow, though, he understood why Philip kept pretending. And he would too. He’d pretend – right up to the last and beyond, that he was unaffected by the disease. Once Philip was gone he could give into it, allow it to take him as fast as it could… What more had he to live for?
Jack shook himself at the thoughts, which surprised even him. He never knew his own depth of despair, his own pit of desolation before. But here he stood, teetering upon its very edge.
He tried to sooth himself with fantasies of stealing into the base late one night, he and Philip, and of him taking his lover and escaping this world – let Philip experience that before he died. Or, of taking him to the planet where the sarcophagus was and healing them both. It was impossible though. He knew that. They received enough trouble stealing away into the night to save the world once, imagine the kind of trouble abusing the gate, with the costs involved and the secrecy revealed, in order to revive one lover, would bring? He knew, only too well what it would mean. Philip would live, yes, that was a big plus, however he would live *alone* and Jack would live in military prison, where they do not take too kindly to gay men! Either way, for him, he would end up dead. Suddenly, that didn’t seem too unappealing – at least Philip would live. Then he heard his lover’s gentle words - ‘What’s the point of me living if you die?’ As hard as it was, he knew that was all an impossible dream. Yet, once again, his roundabout of thoughts started up.. Driving him insane!
*
By this time, and oddly enough, Jack felt hungry. He checked his watch and saw that it was well into the small hours of the next morning. Why hadn’t they heard anything? Lack of contact meant he fought his fatigue every moment, wanting to be awake and alert when news did finally come through – or better still, when his team came home.
His team. He thought about that too. Hammond would probably offer him early retirement, to avoid the shame. He’d take it, of course. What choice did he have?
*
When the night shift went off duty and the morning staff came on board, Jack tried to avoid being seen by Graham so he kept away from the Gate room for a while. He had no way of explaining to Philip why he hadn’t called him to stop him from worrying all day and all night while he was actually safely tucked away on the base. Perhaps Philip would understand more than he realized.
He probably would empathize with Jack – totally comprehending the fact that the colonel couldn’t hold one thought for longer than thirty seconds all day after he’d spoken to Janet. Every time he realized he needed to phone Philip the though vanished and his mind would draw a blank. Little things, like watching the pulse point on his wrist throb while he imagined the blood within, poisoning his system, distracted him.
And there was the headache, sharp and piercing! It was brutal pressure behind his eyes and up his neck, constricting across his forehead like a rubber band each time he moved – sometimes when he only blinked. He recalled the first night he met Philip – he had a headache then too, not too dissimilar. Philip had offered him some painkillers, saying that he got bad headaches sometimes. How odd that he should think about it now, but he hadn’t noticed Philip suffering with a headache recently. Perhaps his attention was always on the hacking cough instead.
He tried not to imagine what was to come. With his newfound freedom he was able to stay and nurse Philip, when the time came. He’d read enough to know that the ending rarely came fast, it was usually a long period, filled with medication and equipment to ease the pain and discomfort, to cleanse the blood and to feed the body that was wasting away, despite everyone’s good efforts. He knew he would need helpers – Graham, Daniel, Janet. Maybe Sam? Perhaps Todd? People to be around him for when he tired and needed a break from Philip.
And Philip needed others around, too – for when he tired and needed a break from Jack.
Following that macabre thought he closed his eyes and tried not to dwell on the time when they might hate each other – as patient and carer – not as lovers. Jack knew he would always love Philip – even beyond his death – but he was realistic too and understood the trauma, the heartache and the despair that would accompany watching the man he loved fade before his very eyes. Glimpses already showed him what a hot temper Philip had. In their first few months, Jack never saw it, but as time marched on, and as the disease took hold, Philip’s patience grew taut, sometimes to the point of breaking even over the minutest things, like a box of tissues being left empty instead of being replaced. Reading and researching helped Jack to understand that this was all part and parcel of the whole epidemic. One minute he’d be up – the next he’d be down. It was one hell of a roller-coaster ride to come!
His hand trembled as he rubbed it across his brow now, grimacing as even the touch across his forehead caused him some pain.
*
A little before lunch he was wandering aimlessly through the corridors and had forgotten his self-imposed ban on the Gateroom. Instinct took him up the familiar stairs, his hands firmly in his pockets and his head bowed slightly – he didn’t need to look where he was going, he knew this place so well!
It wasn’t until he was actually standing behind what would be Graham’s seat that he realized that Hobson occupied it instead. The almost-bald head bobbed around as the technician concentrated on the quickly scrolling screen in front of him. He adjusted the little wire-framed glasses on his nose a bit better then leaned forward to write something down. All the while, he had no idea Jack was behind him.
Looking around the room Jack surprised himself by asking after the Lieutenant. Hobson seemed to startle at the sound of Jack's voice then he told him, in his rapid little tone, that Simmons was on a Rostered Day Off. Jack was pleased to hear that. He’d only just begun to imagine that Graham was at home because something was wrong with Philip.
*
At twenty-two hundred hours he began to grow very concerned. No word could mean a few things, but he wasn’t feeling much like “Mr. Glass-Half-Full” at the moment so he plummeted into the deeper recesses of depression – imagining that no news was not good news.. and that he had to face the fact that he may ‘never’ know the fate of his team…..
*
Many hours later, as he was shuffling along the corridors, his hands – again - deep into his pockets, his shoulders hunched over like he was a man of ninety, Jack happened upon Janet. She looked him up and down disapprovingly. He looked bad, she told him, and she was ordering him to bed that very minute! He reluctantly nodded and even allowed her to drag him back to his quarters and settle him down.
Hovering by the door she checked in case he wanted to talk. He’d been sitting there, still hunched over, his hands wedged between his thighs. Slowly he toppled onto his side as he mumbled that he was fine and just needed to lie down a moment. Before she could switch off the light he was fast asleep.
*
“Jack!” The voice was soft, gently summoning him from the depths of his enveloping slumber. “Jack.”
The brown eyes flittered open, then closed. But in the split second that they parted he saw blue. Before his eyes could even flutter open again he’d sat up and gripped Daniel's face between his hands. By the time he’d pried his eyes open Daniel was smiling at him, a very happy smile despite the fact that Jack's hold was puckering his face. There was a gentle laugh as the colonel fought to keep his eyes from closing again, and that sound made him struggle, like a drowning man trying to break through the surface of the water to full alertness even more.
With a mouth as dry as a desert, he whispered hoarsely, “you’re back!” He was still fighting to keep his eyes open, and losing. Daniel's hand came up to touch the one cupping his right cheek.
“We just got back. The mission was a success!”
Still trying to moisten his chronically dry mouth Jack asked, “Carter? Teal’c?”
“Agh! Sam took a shot to the shoulder, but she’ll live. Janet’s trying to not go to pieces on her, and she’s almost doing a good job.”
Jack acknowledged that with a slight, mirthless nod. Daniel frowned at his friend’s odd behavior. He’d woken Jack plenty of times but never had he been this sluggish. He had to put it down to the fact that Janet told him Jack hadn’t gone to sleep for the first time until about nine hours ago. He still needed more sleep by the looks of it.
Quickly Daniel got up and grabbed him a glass of water. Jack gripped it between trembling hands and gulped it down. Daniel put the trembles down to fatigue as well.
Holding the glass out, Jack said, “Thanks,” before wiping the back of his hand cross his mouth. Daniel put the glass aside and squatted by the side of Jack's cot once more, resting his fists against the metal side strut.
“Teal’c?”
“He took a hit by a Zat, but he’s okay now.”
Jack looked at him a long moment then, finally, a small smile creased his sleepy face. “And you?”
“Unscathed.”
Jack laughed. “You’re kidding?”
Daniel grinned. “Nope. I got through without a scratch – oh, well, maybe one. Here!” He folded his arm and showed Jack a very small, red scratch across his elbow. Jack looked at it then up into the blue eyes before exploding with a laugh and reaching out to ruffle the blond hair. The young man chuckled once more at the display of almost paternal affection.
They sat in companionable silence a moment, both grinning like wild men at the other then Jack shook his head as he confessed, “You have no idea how good it is to see you again!”
Daniel was about to say something when Jack abruptly pulled him in for a hug. The young man adjusted his face, clearing his chin from the sharpness of Jack's collarbone before he said, in a voice light and whispery, “Good to be seen!” His laughter puffed across the side of Jack's neck and blew into his ear, making the hugger’s side tingle.
The ‘huggee’, feeling like he might be squashed at any moment, pulled back a fraction and then felt Jack reluctantly surrender the embrace. Jack, suddenly feeling lighter and more alive than he had in the past few days, literally bounced himself off the bed and onto his feet. He stopped and held his hands wide, his head spinning with the sudden rush of movement. Daniel captured his arm, steadying him.
“You okay?” His voice was full of concern.
Jack turned to look at him and unclenched his eyes. “Yeah. Peachy. Just got up too damn quick!”
Daniel smiled, a little tentatively, and then reached for the doorknob, knowing that Jack would want to go and check on the rest of his team.
Once they were out in the bright corridor Jack cast another gaze over his friend. He immediately noticed a dull stain that covered the whole of Daniel's shoulder. He stopped him and swung him around, pinching the stiffened fabric in his hand.
“That’s Sam,” Daniel told him of the blood stain on the top he was wearing. Looking up he saw a look in Jack's eyes that he’d never seen before. “It’s not mine.” He said to reassure him again.
A little like a startled deer, Jack looked at him. Daniel's mouth twitched, like he was going to say something but Jack spoke first. “And she’s okay?”
The blond head bobbed in a nod. “Yeah. The site was clean. Shot went straight through. She said something about being glad she was right handed and, for some odd reason that made Janet blush..” He stopped, mid-step and mid-sentence when he suddenly realized what Sam had said back there. With a bemused laugh he shook his head and said, “I don’t believe she said that!” Stepping off to continue on their way he realized that Jack was not following him. Upon turning around, he realized that Jack probably hadn’t heard a word he’d said either. He went back to him and touched his hand to his shoulder; the mere touch was enough to jolt the daydreaming officer to full consciousness again.
“What’s the time?” Jack asked.
Daniel checked his watch and said, “Almost two o’clock in the afternoon.”
Totally surprised by that, Jack said, “What!?”
Nodding, Daniel said, “We were gone a little over 52 hours.”
“Fifty…?” Jack went into his thoughts again. He knew he needed to get to a phone – immediately. His poor, beautiful lover was probably worried out of his wits by now.
Jutting his thumb over his shoulder as he backed up, Jack said, “I’ve gotto call…” But he didn’t finish the sentence; instead he turned and ran back to his quarters.
Daniel waited, abandoned in the corridor then mumbled, “Fine, well, I’ll just go on ahead then, shall I?” Looking around the hall he tilted his head as he turned on the spot and then walked towards the infirmary.
*
He was perched on the edge of Sam’s bed, his knees draw up and his heels hooked into the side of the hospital bed a short time later. He could see Teal’c from where he sat and, by turning to the left, he could see Sam, who was sitting up in the bed with her arm in a sling. Teal’c lay on the covers of the next bed, his fingers laced easily across his stomach, his feet crossed at the ankles. The three of them talked so amiably that it was impossible to believe that they had been fighting for their lives a few short hours before hand.
Jack entered the Infirmary; looking a little better than he had the last time Daniel had seen him. He came to Sam’s bed first.
“Hey Carter. Heard you tried to rugby tackle a bullet!”
She smiled. “Yeah. Tried to remember what you taught me, Sir. ‘Put your shoulder into it’!”
Jack grinned and winked at her. “Adda girl!”
She laughed and lowered her eyes slightly. He tapped his fingertips on the bed lightly then turned and stepped over to Teal’c.
“And you? Heard you were trying to get another cheep thrill with a Zat!”
Teal’c’s brow arched. “I am also well, O’Neill.” He told him, holding back a slight smile. Jack's grin broadened.
“Good! So, what happened?” He turned to the room in general now and awaited an answer.
“We hit upon an ambush on our return to the gate. If it were not for Daniel's quick thinking, we would certainly have failed in our mission.”
“We’d be dead, Sir,” Sam said, more bluntly. Jack looked from Teal’c to Sam then onto the blushing archaeologist.
“Do tell?” He said, tilting his head slightly.
Daniel looked up bashfully then mumbled, “It will all be in the debriefing!”
Jack rolled his eyes and a part of him wondered if he would be allowed to attend the debriefing anymore.
“How about you, Sir?” Sam asked. Jack looked at her; almost expecting to see the ‘I know’ look in her eyes, but it wasn’t there. Janet wouldn’t have had time to tell her. “Everything alright with you?” She pressed on hesitantly.
“Sure,” he mumbled and lowered his chin to his chest. The three other people in the room exchanged concerned gazes.
End of Part 25
Stories on this page are the property of Nessessitee and Slida. Please do not copy these without the written permission of the Author. All Rights are acknowledged for MGM, Gekko and Stargate Productions as to the Copyrights of the characters within this story and no infringement on the copyrights are intended. For the Bombshells Series the character of Philip Simmons is entirely the creation and intellectual property of Nessessitee and Slida.
While the performances given by RDA and MS help to fuel the author's desire to write for their characters in a niche that she feels is present on the actual show, the portrayal of their characters in loving relationships in no way reflects the Author's opinion of the men's private life, nor should it be construed in that manner.
This passage deals with the emotions and descriptions of a HIV sufferer. While research has lead me to make these assumptions please be aware that this is still fiction.
Thanks for the feedback. Sorry for the tears it's causing some of you! Slida