Part 72
Blackness.
Philip felt it all around him. Falling... A feeling of falling, deeper and deeper into the inky blackness. He was surprised that - as he fell - he felt no fear. He felt cocooned instead. He knew arms were around him and he feared nothing because of it. He was vaguely aware of soft mutterings against his ear, but recalled nothing of the words - just the incredible sensation of safety as he plummeted through the unknown. Even as the air around him changed, from the warmth he knew to odd, dark coldness, he still felt no fear-
Then pain.
Searing heat as his body convulsed. Frantic and fearful now as he recalled bright flashes of light and of pain while his body seemed sliced in half by the intense heat. His fear whipped up now and gripped him like tendrils, pulling him down deeper into the cold. Where once he felt cocooned he felt nothing. He was alone; he no longer heard the whispered words of comfort. Pain ripped through his chest again and he started to roll forward.
Choking now.
Unable to breathe as his throat filled with a thick substance that blocked his airway. He gasped, gagged and wondered where the peace went. Another rip of pain, another convulsion and more choking! Icy fingers of fear gripped his heart.... He grappled with the slippery sides of the dark tunnel as he plummeted. Tried to get purchase, but he felt none. Down, down he tumbled, only to be pulled up by the agony within his chest once more and left to hang, motionless, by the torture through his body.....
A gasp of breath.
The dark lashes fluttered against the soft, brown cheek then suddenly Philip's eyes sprung open and frantically scanned the ceiling above him while his brain tried to ascertain where he was. The darkness was banished. This room was bright - the white ceiling reflected blinding light so intense that Philip was forced to close his eyes against it.
Gone was the sensation of falling - the fear that accompanied it was still beating his heart hard but the realization that it was just a dream - a memory - helped him to calm down. Hee started to breathe easily, so much more easily than he had in the past few months. He didn't know why he didn't breathe like that anymore - he still had no answers. Was this 'death'? This had to be - no one dies and is suddenly well again - Ever? - Surely?
There was heaviness across his mid-region as he tried to move. His arms were trapped and his hips couldn't shift. Feeling out of control again he struggled, trying to kick out at whatever detained him.
"Philip?" Jack's voice came through the utter confusion and instantly soothed the distressing man. As soon as the face appeared into his view Philip felt released, like the bonds that had held him were suddenly gone.
"Jack?" He asked in a timid voice.
"Are you okay?"
"Trapped.."
"Sorry-" Jack said as Philip felt a lighter pressure across his lower region - perhaps a hand? Rubbing a soothing caress? "I fell asleep on you. You okay? You're not feeling ill or.."
"Pins and Needles.." Philip grimaced as the arm that Jack had been pressed against suddenly came to life again. "Owwwwwwwwwww!"
Jack smiled then laughed. Philip frowned. "What's so damn funny?"
"This!" Jack said, as he held his arms wide. "That your biggest concern at the moment is pins and needles..."
Suddenly Phil's eyes went wide and he looked around then back at his partner. "What.. the??" he stuttered then slapped his hand over his eyes as he fell back against the pillows behind him and muttered under his breath.
Jack laughed again then tried to tug the hand away as he said, "Baby, what'cha doing!"
"Go away!" Philip said so despondently that Jack started to worry.
"Babe!" He asked as he carefully peeled the fingers off now. "What's wrong!?" Panic started to rise in his voice before Philip threw his hand down and glared around the room.
With another sudden frown he muttered, "But it was all so damn real.. it's not possible.."
Jack tilted his head then asked, "What?"
Phil's eyes met his then he said, "What happened yesterday? I mean, what did we do?"
Jack looked totally baffled by this question. "Do? What do you mean?"
Philip's eyes brimmed with tears of distress as he looked around the room shaking his head. By now Jack was very concerned by Phil's odd behaviour. He hadn't known what to expect when the younger man awoke after the events over the past few days but this was not a scenario he considered.
In a pitiful voice the healed man asked, "Have I started to lose my mind, Jack?"
Carefully Jack crawled onto the side of the bed as he cooed words of reassurance to his sobbing partner. He cradled his teary face, now contorted with tears and torment, between his hands as he tried to meet the averted eyes. When the black pools, shimmering with tears, finally settled on his, Jack saw such despair in them that his heart felt crushed.
"No, oh.. God, Phil,.. what's wrong?"
Philip stared back at him for a long while, then finally he spoke. His voice was so cracked that Jack practically had to guess at the words. It wasn't hard though, as Phil's face supported his emotions.
"I died..."
He sniffed back harshly, his whole body shook from the effort then he screwed his eyes shut tightly as he shook his head again and lowered it to ramble, "not possible.." over and over.
"Baby.. you didn't die.." Jack tried to tell him.
Wild eyes lifted and met Jack's worried gaze. "It was so real Jack!" Philip hissed passionately as he screwed his eyes up again and pressed the heal of his hand to his lips, sobbing uncontrollably as he mumbled, through the tears in his mouth, "I died in your arms. We were in your house.."
His head shook again as he collected up the edge of his bed and started to wipe his wet face with it. Jack reached across and picked up the box of tissues, handing a fist full to his inconsolable partner then he tried to tell him again but Phil blew his nose, unable to hear anything.
As he dropped the wad of tissues into the bin by his bed he seemed to catch his breath - an action that afforded him a moment of levelling, then he swallowed as he turned back to Jack. "I'm losing my mind and I can't do a damn thing about it!"
"You're not losing your mind."
Phil fobbed that off with a sigh. "You've no idea. I imagined my whole demise, Jack. I lived it like it really happened..."
"It did.." Jack interrupted but Phil continued to talk.
"I was lying in your arms and... what?" He stopped when his mind finally picked up what Jack said to him.
"It did really happen. The hospital, your parents, dying in my arms...." Jack shook his head as he watched Phil's expression change subtly. He caught his breath then said, "You really did go through all that, baby. It wasn't your imagination.
Phil's eyes darkened behind the tears. "That's not possible," he said, shaking his head and taking another quick look around the room. There were no monitors making him feel better so how could he have been so close to death?
"I can't have been that close to death last night and now..." Suddenly he remembered Sam and the others. With eyes that darted from one of Jack's to the other, Philip said, "Oh god! I remember now... What the hell happened last night?"
Jack saw the recollection of the events dawn in his lover's gaze and he slowly nodded as he perched himself on the edge of the bed again, as close to Philip as he could. He reached out and brushed his fingers through the lank, black curls across the damp forehead. "What do you remember?"
"Dying.." Philip said bluntly as he held the sable eyes in a challenging stare. "I remember lying on your sofa.. Dying.."
A tremor across Jack's lips might have been a smile, or even fear, as he shifted his eyes from the unyielding gaze and watched as a loose curl slipped across the pale forehead once more.
"I *was* dying, wasn't I, Jack?" The young man's voice trembled slightly and Jack lowered his eyes to meet his gaze once more.
He cupped the quivering face as he asked him, "What do you fear?"
Philip's dark eyes shimmered with unshed tears then he blinked, dislodging them to streak down his cheek. "Having to go through that again.. Having to *die* again.."
"You're not dying.." Jack told him once more, with a gentle smile as he brushed at the tears with his thumb. "Not anymore.."
Phil stared at him for a few heartbeats, the utter confusion at that statement caused his brow to furrow harder than Jack had ever seen it. With a harsh level of disbelief he said, "Jack, I have lung cancer caused by full-blown AIDS - how can I not be dying?"
"I know it doesn't seem possible.. but you've gotto believe me, baby." As he watched Phil's head start to shake again he cut off his protests with: "That miracle you always said you wanted... We got it, Philip!"
"That's crap, Jack!" Philip pulled back from the touch.
"I'm not lying. Your results speak for themselves!" Jack moved to the end of the bed and picked up Phil's medical chart. As he passed the clipboard over to Philip he sat down again, this time he was so close his thigh brushed Philip's hip.
The younger man frowned as he read the results on the chart.
"This is impossible!" He kept mumbling to himself but Jack only smiled, knowing that it wasn't impossible at all. He was just waiting for the moment Philip accepted that before they could really celebrate the great news - perhaps with a kiss? Jack wet his lips as he stared at the brush of black beard still spoiling his lover's gorgeous face. After the kiss, he thought, maybe they'd celebrate by shaving that hideous beard!
Philip shook his head as he lifted his eyes from the chart in his hand. "*This* is impossible! These can't be my results.." He tossed the board onto the bed and clamped his jaw as he folded his arms across his chest.
"You're right, of course," Jack said flippantly as he scratched at his eye briefly. "They belong to the guy next door. I thought I'd borrow them a while.." He saw that his partner was not impressed by the humor, nor was he amused.
Darkness clouded Phil's expression as he glared at him. When Jack saw that the young man wasn't going to do what he'd expected - that was, accept the results with some level of faith (like he and his team had done time and time again), he shook his head, tossed his hand at the chart as he groused, "For crying out loud! Well, who's results would they damn well be?"
"They're not mine!" Phil said obstinately. "My electrolytes haven't been that good in almost a year!"
Exasperatedly Jack picked up the chart and waved it as he held it up. "Okay, so they're not yours - then who in the hell's are they and why in God's name am I doing this to you? Pretending someone else's chart's yours?
Philip was surprised by the tone in Jack's voice. He seemed angry with him - but he didn't understand why. Nontheless, he snapped back, "You tell me!"
"ARG! You infuriate me!" Jack said as he jumped off the bed and threw the chart down, clipping Phil's feet under the bedding.
"Ouch!" The young man snapped.
"Dammit!" Jack groused then shrugged and muttered, "Sorry!"
Philip kicked his foot out and shoved the chart off the bed and onto the floor.
Janet entered the room and stopped the second she realized they were fighting.
"Anything wrong?"
"No," Jack snapped.
"Yes," Philip said. Both men glared at each other then Philip pointed to the chart on the floor and said, "That's *not* my chart."
Janet's eyes drifted from the angry young man to the colonel. Jack rolled his eyes then shrugged as he lowered his chin to his chest and mumbled, "He doesn't believe that's his chart."
Janet returned his lowered voice with, "I'm not surprised."
This made the colonel frown as he returned her gaze. He was about to ask, 'why' when she said, "If you don't mind, Jack, I'd like a moment alone with my patient."
The colonel looked at her then at his lover, sitting up in the bed and looking so good that, despite the argument, Jack could barely stand having to leave him. "I'll get a coffee!" He muttered before yanking on the door and going out the room.
Janet rolled her eyes as she looked at Philip then she stooped to collect up the chart.
"What the hell is going on here?" Philip asked her, expecting that she would give him the answer he desperately sought.
Janet pursed her lips as she fanned the silver board. "This *is* your chart, Philip."
"It can't be," he said, his tone softening slightly with her. "Janet, you and I both know you don't just suddenly wake up 'well' with AIDS.."
Janet carefully placed the chart by his feet as she hitched her skirt to sit on the edge of his bed.
"No," She said as she looked at her hands in her lap. "You don't. Not normally.."
Philip frowned then tilted his head. "Please.. tell me the truth. What's happened to me?"
"What do you think's happened to you?"
Philip sucked back a deep breath then said, "For a little while I thought I'd dreamt the past few weeks.. you know.. the really bad parts.."
"But now?' She asked as she tilted her face to look at him.
"Now?" he asked as he raised a naturally arched brow and slotted his eyes towards the door that Jack had left through. "Now.. I think the truth is harder to believe..."
Janet frowned then tilted her head even more when he looked back at her.
*
Jack knocked as he pushed the door open and the pretty Doctor lifted her face from the opened folder on her desk. Her face split with as smile as she indicated to one of her chairs.
"Come in, Jack."
He obeyed by crossing the room to settle himself in one of the high backed, cloth-covered chairs. He laced his fingers together and laid them in his lap.
"Thanks for coming to see me," she said as she closed the folder and set it aside.
"Beats going Round 3 with Philip.."
After he'd returned from getting the coffee his lover was no more receptive to the whole idea of a miracle cure than he had been when he left the first time. If Janet hadn't called back in and directly asked Jack to come to her office in five minutes for a chat, they'd still be arguing and hissing. None of which Jack understood. When he held him in his arms and listened to him die he'd have given 'anything' to have turned back time and do things differently - including all the arguments. As Philip died he distinctly remembered remonstrating himself for allowing Philip to argue with him while he was sick - yet here they were, less than twenty-four hours after the miracle and they were already fighting again!
A gentle smile creased Janet's face now as she placed her hands onto her desk and sat forward. "Are you surprised he doesn't understand any of this?" She asked him earnestly.
"I'm surprised he doesn't believe any of it," Jack said bluntly.
"Why?"
"Why? Because the damn charts tell him the truth! I'm telling him the truth and he doesn't believe it."
"He's scared!" She said, like that thought hadn't crossed Jack's mind already.
"I know that, Doc, but facts are facts.." He shrugged and waved a hand around his temple as he said, "Besides, we see this kind of thing happen everyday. Look how many times Daniel's died, for crying out loud! He didn't carry on like this after the first time. We all just take it in our damn stride!"
Janet lowered her face then lifted it again. "But we understand the nature of it. We've seen the Gate. We know the secrets. Philip has no idea about any of that. One day he was dying in your arms and the next day he's well. Can't you see how that wouldn't make any sense to someone who has never been through what we've been through?" She argued passionately.
"Of course I can see it, I'm not stupid, Doc!" He snapped then lowered his eyes as he said quietly; "I thought he had more faith in me."
"Oh, his faith in you is what scares him the most I think Jack," she said in such a way that the colonel lifted his face and stared back at her.
"What do you mean?"
"He knows you love him - he's scared you love him so much that you'd have risked everything to save him..."
Jack felt his face burn. If he did love him that much, why had he given up so easily? Why didn't he insist Hammond step in and save him earlier. Why hadn't 'any' of them thought about the damn hand device sooner?
"Meaning?"
Janet dropped her bottom jaw slightly then said, "He thinks you allowed the Government to experiment with him."
Jack's graying brow furrowed. "What the hell?"
"He thinks that the Government's been secretly working on a cure for AIDS and that you let them use him as a guinea pig."
Jack covered his face as he rocked forward in his chair and growled loudly. "Oh, for crying out loud.." he mumbled against his hands.
"To be honest," Janet waited for him to look up. "He's not very far off that."
Rolling his eyes Jack said, "I'd never have risked his life.."
"He was dying, Jack. He knew there was nothing to risk. But he told me that he was sure if there was an iota of a chance to cure him of this - you'd have taken it.."
Jack closed his eyes then got to his feet and crossed to the window slightly behind Janet's desk. She turned in her chair to look at him.
After a long pause as he watched the people mill about in the dimming day outside, Jack said, more to himself than to the Doctor, "He thought I was trying to save him - but I did nothing.."
"You did all you could," Janet said. He looked at her but she could see in his eyes he didn't buy that for a minute.
As he rubbed his forehead with his hand he said, "What did you tell him?"
"I told him that you'd discuss it with him. I think all of us are going to have to be guided by what you tell him in the next few hours..."
Jack blinked then looked outside again. "And," he said on a heavy sigh, "what the hell will that be?"
*
As Jack walked down the corridor towards Phil's room he saw Daniel and Graham waiting outside.
"Hey," he said when he caught up to them, "What's up?"
"The nurse came in to take his obs," Daniel said, pointing to the room then he raised his brows as he looked at his friend again.
Jack frowned then shrugged. "So? You don't have to leave when she does that."
"He. Ugh.. we.." Graham sighed then scratched at his smooth cheek. "He's asking me what happened to him."
"Oh," Jack said as he slotted his eyes towards the door. "And you said..?"
"So far we've avoided answering it," Daniel confessed.
"Good." The older man nodded. "So you've said nothing?"
"Not a word," Graham admitted.
"Which I think has made Philip even more curious," Daniel told Jack.
"He's .. he's having trouble accepting this."
"That's obvious!" Graham sighed heavily and shot a knowing look at his lover.
"I'm just about to go and have a talk to him. Could you both give us a few minutes?"
"We haven't had dinner yet so why don't we go and grab a quick bite to eat."
"It won't take long, and I think it will be good for him to catch up - with you especially," Jack held his thumb towards Graham. The younger man nodded. "But I just have a few things to straighten out with him first."
Daniel quirked his head slightly. "Like?"
"Like finding out exactly what it is he thinks has happened to him."
"Oh," The anthropologist pressed his glasses back into place on his nose. "That's going to be interesting."
"Yes," Jack said then caught Graham's eye. "He has some interesting ideas by the sounds of things."
"Like?"
"He thinks we've run experimental anti-AIDS drugs on him."
"Oh, great!" The brother sighed.
Jack shrugged as he nodded. "It's okay. I'll see if I can't find the most logical explanation for this that I can."
Daniel pursed his lips and shrugged as he said, in a very low voice, "Gee, Jack. Getting healed by an alien healing device sounds pretty logical to me."
The colonel gave his friend a dull stare. "Thanks, Danny."
Long lashes fluttered over blue eyes. "My pleasure, Jack."
Jack gave his friend one final blank stare before he turned and went into the room.
<End of Part 72>
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.