Part 92
Graham slowly strolled down the corridors of the base, the soft footfalls of his shoes quietly echoed off the walls around him in the empty corridor. He held two steaming polystyrene cups in his hands - one for him, one for Harris, the female technician who had been on shift with him all day. He'd tossed up whether to go and get another drink as they were nearing the end of their shift, less than an hour to go, but he decided that the headache that had plagued him all day might be appeased by some herbal tea. He gave a wan smile to himself as he considered how much Philip had rubbed off on him - Herbal tea, indeed! Cigarettes, whiskey and coffee were Graham's poison, but his gentler brother had wooed him to the notion of a 'healthier alternative' to most things, and had even begun to nag him about his smoking! Maybe he should give up - after all, Daniel didn't like him smoking so he'd cut back considerably and he wasn't all that attached to it either - it was merely a habit for him now. The pleasure of it was long gone. It would be hard, but Daniel would make it worthwhile...
A grip of regret flooded through the tired technician as he saw the door to the Gate room slide open and SG-3 exit, having just returned from their mission. He wondered if he'd ever look up and see Daniel walk through that door again. Soulfully a sigh escaped him as he rounded the bend and headed towards the steps that led to the Control Room. His boots scraped the first step then the next when suddenly the klaxons alarmed and the base went on alert - the usual routine when a wormhole was established behind the closing iris until a GDO code was detected. He was unperturbed by the actions, it was usual S.O.P. for another team returning. The place was a little like an airport, departures and arrivals at varying times during the day and night sometimes. Graham eased himself into his chair and passed over the cup to Harris.
The dark skinned woman's eyes were bright as she hastily typed at her computer. "Shit," she sighed under her breath then shot her companion a sideways glance of concern. Before he could ask her what was wrong someone voiced the question for him.
"What's happening, Lieutenant? No one's due to return until tomorrow now," Hammond said as he came to stand behind Graham's chair.
The Lieutenant frowned and reached for his sheet, read that no other team *was* due and suddenly swallowed past the hard lump in his throat. Hope almost strangled his words as he said, "Standing by for a GDO signal, Sir!"
The room waited and all faces, mottled by the silvery-blue light reflected from the back wall of the room in front of them, watched the closed iris intently. All except Graham and Harris. They stared at their screens and waited. Graham almost choked on the words as they tumbled from his mouth; "Sir, it's SG-9's iris code!"
"Open the Iris!" Hammond ordered and took off at a run for the gate room.
The metallic sound of the iris sliding back pierced the room as soon as the klaxons ceased and Graham looked down to watch the bald-headed General weave his way through the throng of military personnel who waited with guns at the ready for the incoming travelers to make themselves known. Soon he saw Sam run into the room and stand at the General's side, also waiting.
The mercurial wall shimmered then melted around the shape of Teal'c as he exited the gate first, carrying the limp body of Jack O'Neill. SG-9’s commander, Major Stan Kovacek, who seemed to be there to ensure Jack’s head wasn’t bumped by anything along the way, flanked him. Graham swallowed his yelp of despair as he saw the red-faced colonel; head and arms flopped back as his whole body jounced lifelessly with each of Teal'c's steps along the metal ramp.
Even before the General had made his turn complete Graham leapt to his feet, reached for the microphone and commanded, "Medical emergency in the Gate room!" He stood now, heart thumping against his ribs as he drew back deep breaths. He met the General's eyes momentarily before the older man turned back towards Teal'c.
Graham's eyes shifted up along the ramp towards the shimmering wall. SG-9 was still coming through but there was still no sign of Daniel. Graham felt faint with anxiety until he saw Martouf and Jacob exit, and between them, the walking embodiment of his life - Daniel. He looked beaten and fragile, wrapped in the blanket like he was, but he was on his feet, he was walking and he was ALIVE! Graham's knees buckled beneath him but he managed to sit down normally in his seat as to not draw further attention to himself. His breath caught in a ragged sigh then he covered his face and leaned his elbows onto the desk and took a moment to gather himself. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time and he had to fight the incredible desire to race into the gate room and throw himself around Daniel and never let him go. Instead, the man simply sucked in a deep breath, lifted his face and resumed his exterior of calmness as he watched the action in the gate room unfold before him.
Jack was being eased onto a gurney and rushed from the room by the time Daniel and his bodyguards reached the end of the ramp.
"Yes!" Harris hissed happily then, when Graham turned towards her, she held her hand up and they high-fived each other - she more enthusiastically than he was. A quiet cheer murmured through the room then people left the control room to either go and greet SG-9 and the Tok'Ra, or to go and spread the word that the Colonel and the Doctor were both finally home safely.
Graham's eyes never left his lover's face until Daniel started to shrug off the blanket then his gaze shifted down to the cropped top he was wearing. Graham saw all the dried blood on Daniel's flat stomach and held his breath a moment, wondering if the blood was his - or Jack's.
"Oh, Gods," Harris hissed less happily this time as she peered through the window. "He's hurt! Looks bad!"
Another technician came and leaned on the desk between Graham and Harris and said, "Nah, that's not his blood by the looks of it. You'd see the cut if it was, but he doesn't look cut.."
"Maybe it's across his chest," another piped up behind Graham's back now.
More members of the medical team swarmed around the tall anthropologist until all that Graham could see of him was his dirty, mid-length hair and his harrowed, unshaven face.
Shaking his head the man leaning against the console commiserated, "The colonel didn't look good, huh!"
“Neither did Dr. Jackson,” said a woman at the back of the room.
“I’d say his nose was broken, judging by those bruises.”
“Surely not? Poor man!” Harris frowned down into the room below them.
Graham kept all his comments to himself as he continued to silently watch Daniel until he was ushered from the gate room by the medical team. Now only a small group, consisting of Martouf, Jacob, Teal'c, Sam, Stan and the General, stood at the base of the ramp, talking quietly together. Hammond spoke to Sam who gave a curt nod then turned and left the room. Before she passed by she shot a quick glance up to the control room and met Graham's concerned eyes. She ducked her head and left through the door. Graham blew out his captured breath and sat back in his seat.
"Man, that Colonel sure gets beat up on missions, huh!" The technician commented before he went back to his post.
Another piped up cheerfully. "He's getting on a bit, maybe he ought to retire!"
Harris chuckled now. "Oh, right and what? You'll lead SG-1!"
The group laughed at that notion then they all settled back to their work and were quietly working away when the General led the others up to the Briefing room above them.
*
Dr. Frasier was concerned as she looked around the table, meeting the eyes of each person individually before moving off onto the next person.
"So what you're saying is that Colonel O'Neill will die?" Hammond's voice was tight with worry and that made it sound more blustery than usual.
The Doctor lowered her gaze to her clasped hands and said, "There's nothing I can do for him. The gangrene has permeated most of his body. Normally a course of antibiotics would have been all I needed-"
"But it's been too long?" Sam offered beside her. Janet lifted her gaze and looked at her girlfriend with sad eyes. She nodded solemnly then turned her face towards the end of the table where the red-faced General sat, unable to believe the news.
"I'm sorry, Sir," Janet said meekly, having to deliver the bad news to the silent room.
"There has to be something!' Hammond insisted.
"There is-" Jacob said and met everyone's eyes as they looked at him in puzzlement. He met Martouf's eyes momentarily then turned to the General. "We have need for a new host to one of our Tok'Ras."
"No!" Sam said adamantly as she shook her head. She caught the glance from Hammond and said, "With all due respect Sir, there's no way Colonel O'Neill would want to be a Tok'Ra!"
"I concur," Teal'c added. "O'Neill would rather perish than become a host to a Goa'uld, good or bad." He raised his eyebrow when Martouf looked his way.
"Look," Jacob said in a friendly manner, "I can tell you that Colonel O'Neill would be a perfect host for this particular Tok'Ra. It's one of our intelligence officers, so he'd get to do all the kinds of undercover stuff he likes to do so much!"
Sam shook her head and turned her mouth down as she said, with bewilderment in her blue eyes, "I can't believe you're even suggesting this!" She shook her head and held her hand out towards him, "You know how the Colonel feels about the Tok'Ra."
"Maybe he can pull the alliance together more!" Jacob countered. Sam clenched her jaw and squinted her eyes momentarily before she looked away in disgust.
Hammond watched her then Jacob. "Where would he work? Here with us, or...?"
Martouf spoke up now. "The Tok'Ra, Par'tek, is most important to the Tok'Ra resistance movement. Colonel O'Neill would not be able to stay here on earth, we'd need him."
"Then no!" Sam said, her eyes flashing angrily.
"Major!" Hammond tempered her quietly. She turned to look at him.
"I'm sorry Sir, but there's no way Colonel O'Neill is going to want to leave earth. Not after everything he's been through recently!" She raised her brow to highlight her meaning. Understanding dawned on the face of the man at the end of the table and he nodded his head slightly.
"But is dead better, Major?" He asked her. Sam shrugged and then sat back in her chair.
Hammond looked at his long-time friend. "How soon could this transfer occur?"
Jacob looked at Martouf and the younger man said, “We will prepare Par’tek as quickly as possible, if we may use your gate to send us straight home.” He addressed Jacob when he said; “We will retrieve the ship another time.” The older Tok’Ra nodded.
Hammond turned to the doctor on his left. "How long before we need to do this?"
"As soon as possible," she told him, her voice quiet because she knew, as much as Sam did, that this is not an option Jack would want.
Hammond told Jacob, "Go and get ready and send for him as soon as you can!"
Jacob and Martouf rose to their feet as one and nodded before they left the room. Sam shook her head in anger as she said, "I'm sorry Sir, but this is wrong!"
Hammond looked at her. "What more can I do? At least this is saving his life!"
Sam and Janet exchanged glances as Teal'c said, "O'Neill would argue that this is not saving his life at all, GeneralHammond, rather prolonging it."
Hammond looked at the Jaffa. "He can argue it all he wants - afterwards. As far as I can see this is the only way he'll get to argue it. Correct me if I'm wrong, Doctor, but if we don't do something, and do it damn fast, Colonel O'Neill *will* die."
Reluctantly Janet agreed with him. "I'm sorry Sam, but unless this is done within the next half an hour I'm not sure the Colonel will survive."
Hammond looked at the blonde officer who sat, stony faced and hard-mouthed. "He wouldn't want this!" She repeated.
"Then present me with another solution, and do it fast!" Hammond said as he got to his feet. "I'll be in my office if you come up with something." He left, his steps heavy because of the weight burdening his heart.
*
Sam entered the Infirmary where Jack was wired up to the monitors around him, feeding him nourishment, antibiotics and morphine in a vain attempt to relieve some of the damage done to his wasted body while they waited for the return of the Tok'Ra.
Hammond sat by the side of the bed, his elbows resting on the edge of the mattress and his head against his hands. Sam stepped quietly behind him and he glanced back to look at her.
"I keep asking him if he wants this or not," he said with a sad sigh as his gaze cast over the ruddy, sweaty face of the colonel. "He doesn't answer me!"
Sam tentatively touched his shoulder. "I went to your office," she told him.
He nodded faintly and returned to watching the dying man. "I couldn't sit in there and hide. I had to come here. To face.. this!"
"Sir," Sam said quietly before she turned and dragged another chair over to the side of the bed. "Sir, I've had a thought."
Hammond looked into her bright blue eyes.
"The healing device."
His eyes went dull for a moment. "I thought about that too," he confessed. "And I remembered how sick you were afterwards, and I thought you might not want to go through that again."
"It's nothing compared to this," she said, indicating towards the monitors beeping above Jack's bed.
Hammond didn't cheer up as he said, "But surely we can't keep using that device, Major." It was more a statement than a question.
Sam nodded. "I know, and I agree - not until it's been completely and fullly tested, but Sir, Jack...Colonel O'Neill... would rather this than waking up with - as he'd put it - a damn snake in his head!"
A faint smile flittered over Hammond's thin lips. "You almost sounded like him."
Sam smiled gently. "That's because I know how he'd feel. I don't think we should do this. I've been talking with Janet and she agrees with me. The Tok'Ra knew when they came here that they needed a new host. I wonder would they have been so helpful if they didn't have that need."
Hammond searched her face then said, "Now you 'do' sound like him, Major. Your own father.."
She nodded sharply. "I know my own father is one of them, Sir, but I also know that they have screwed us over before, to put it in Jack-speak."
He stared at her for a few moments. "This would absolutely have to be the last time we used the Device. If you can backwards engineer the thing I'll have a fleet of them made for use here in the infirmary, but until then, that thing goes out of commission and all healing is done, if at all, in nature's own time."
Sam nodded, firmly this time. "I agree, Sir. But just this once.." She arched her blonde brow. He gave her an affirming nod.
"Do it. Do them both. The Colonel and Dr Jackson."
Sam got up from her chair and smiled at him. "Thank you, Sir."
Hammond turned to the man in the bed and said to him, "This time, Jack, it's for you. You tell your young man that for me!" As he got up he patted the limp hand and then smiled before he left the infirmary.
*
The next time Hammond saw Jack it was when the Colonel entered his office, and despite his unshaven appearance, he looked as fresh as someone who'd just spent a few days in a health resort, not in a cave.
The rotund face split with a smile then Hammond shook his head slowly as he continued to smile, which build into a laugh by the time he pushed his chair back on its wheels and stood up. The perplexed Colonel watched as the general rounded his desk, threw his arms wide and hugged him, slapping his back roughly.
"Colonel O'Neill, you have no idea how good it is to see you!"
Jack blurted out a bewildered laugh the next time the general thumped his back again. "I'm so pleased!" He wheezed then pushed back. "But before you break me...!"
Hammond nodded and stepped back. "Won't the Tok'Ra be surprised when they come back!"
Jack cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, about that!" He said. Hammond indicated to the chair as he went back to his own seat. Jack parted his hand as he said, "Can I put a standing order in my record – Under NO circumstance will I agree to a Tok'Ra melding – ever!"
Hammond's forehead wrinkled even more as he raised both brows at once. "I take it you wouldn't have appreciated the life-saving option?"
"Ah-" Jack scratched at the side of his nose before he dropped into the chair, laced his hands together and said, "No!" very firmly.
The older man's face split with another smile. "I'll note that then, Colonel."
"Thank you, General!"
"How's Doctor Jackson?"
"I haven't had a chance to catch up with him yet. Carter was still with him when I thought to come here and have a word with you - *before* the Tok'Ra return."
The pate glistened in the harsh florescent lighting as the bald man nodded. "They did save your life, Jack. Remember that."
"Oh, I won't forget it - ever, George. You can count on that!" he said sincerely but then his eyes narrowed a little as he went on, "But I don't like the thought that they only did it to benefit themselves."
"We don't know that for sure, but if they did, it didn't work, did it?" Hammond said as he parted his hands and smiled.
Jack's gray brow twitched. "Not this time!"
The telephone jangled beside the older man's elbow. Hammond lifted it, held it to his ear, grunted a few times then put it back in the cradle. "Major Carter is finished with Dr Jackson."
Jack pushed himself up and out of his seat and almost ran from the office in his effort to reach his friend's side quickly.
*
As Jack entered the room he was still trotting. He skidded to a halt as Daniel's blue-eyed gaze fell on him. The two men exchanged smiles then Daniel slipped off the edge of the bed and they came together in a firm, masculine hug, right in the center of the room, in front of the general, Sam, Teal'c, Janet and other infirmary staff. Jack pulled back, cradled Daniel's face in his hands and grinned wildly at him.
"God, look at you!" He laughed happily then tugged him into another bone-crushing embrace.
"Me? Look at you!" Daniel said as he buried his face against Jack's shoulder and squeezed his arms around his chest tightly. Hammond looked across the hugging man towards the Major, who stood with tears in her eyes and a huge smile on her face. Sam gently pulled the device from her hand and laid it back into the box it was being kept in. Suddenly and unexpectedly she was pulled into a hug between the men and they planted matching kisses on her cheek.
"Thanks Carter!"
"Yeah, Thanks Sam!"
The pretty woman smiled and said, as she indicated to the General, "Hey, I was just following orders!"
Jack and Daniel looked at Hammond then Jack tilted his head as Daniel's mouth dropped open. Hammond chortled at them.
"What? I couldn't break up my best team!" He laughed, and then held his hands up as a warning as the two men took a step towards him. "I'll take that as a Thank you!" He grinned as he warded them away from him with a wave of his hands.
"What say you both clean up then we'll hold a quick debriefing. I'm sure you both would like to go home and rest after your ordeal!"
Jack slotted his eyes at Daniel and they shrugged as they shuffled their feet. Pushing his hands into the pockets of the green fatigues he was now wearing, Jack straightened back his shoulders and said, "Could do with a few days off, Sir."
"You've only just returned, Colonel!" Hammond teased.
"Yes, I know but I can honestly say that this traveling through the gate for a holiday experience isn't all it's cracked up to be!"
Hammond laughed as he nodded. "I'll take that under advisement!"
"You do that, Sir." Jack grinned.
"I've even more bad news for you, Jack. You weren't officially reinstated, so that trip was at the expense of Uncle Sam, and you."
Jack screwed his eyes shut as he leaned against the bed behind him. "Oh, so I don't qualify for overtime?"
"I think we could work something out!"
"Time and a half? Three days should equal about a week that way.. " Jack said with a hopeful shrug. "What do you think, Daniel?"
"A week? Oh, well, a few days.. maybe.."
The brown-eyed officer rolled his eyes at his friend then he looked at the C.O. "A week, definitely."
Hammond shook his head. "We'll discuss it in the debriefing. Twenty minutes time?"
"I can't wait to go home so that sounds fine!" Daniel said, sounding weary.
"Good!" Hammond turned sharply and left the room.
Janet stepped towards Jack and said, in a low voice, "And I bet you can't wait to go home either, Colonel." She raised her brow knowingly at him. Jack frowned then realization lit his face.
"He's home?"
Janet winked at him. "He was released from hospital yesterday."
"YES!" Jack pumped the air before he swiveled on the spot and raced from the room in search of a telephone and some privacy.
Sam picked up the box with the hand device and said to Teal'c, "Will you escort me back to the Armory with this please?"
The Jaffa watched Daniel a moment longer then he bowed his head and followed her from the room. Janet frowned as she saw Daniel's downcast expression.
"How are you holding up?"
He gave her a wan smile. "My face feels a lot better."
"Ah huh." She nodded. "And how are you holding up?" She repeated.
He sucked back a deep breath, hoisted himself up onto the side of the bed behind him then said, "So Philip's all right then? Everything checked out?"
Before she could finish saying, "He's.."
A deep voice from the door cut in with, "Fine."
Daniel's head snapped around to see Graham slouched in the doorway, his cheeks tugged with slight dimples as he looked straight back at him. Janet looked between the two of them then stepped back, gathering up the folder to her chest as Graham came up to take her place before the man sitting on the gurney.
As she reached the door and glanced back at them she realized that anyone walking in right now would 'see' the attraction between them before gagging on the sudden rush of endorphins that filled the infirmary. She had to smile as she watched Daniel, eyes never straying from the face before him, as he made polite small talk and tucked his hands under his thighs. Graham returned the small talk, with his hands buried deep into the pockets of his blue uniform. With a chuckle she interrupted the two of them.
"Daniel." She had to call twice to get his attention. "You're good to go."
"Ah... yeah, thanks.." he said then blinked quickly as he ducked his face and turned back to Graham, neither man noticed she'd closed the door behind her.
They were both speechless for a few moments then Graham said, "This is.. definitely a good look on you.." He held his hand out to indicate towards Daniel's attire. "Not the blood though," he hastened to add. The anthropologist looked down then up.
"I needed to bandage Jack's leg." He looked up into the dark eyes. "The blood belongs to one of the aliens."
Graham caught his breath at that comment and nodded solemnly. "You, ugh, you didn't look so good when you came in."
With a quiet cough Daniel said, "Yeah, I was kinda dropped on my face.." He rolled his eyes and raised his brows quickly.
"Ouch!"
Daniel nodded then his eyes shifted around the room. Finally he returned to looking at the man before him. "I didn't realize you'd be here."
It was Graham's turn to nod now. "My first official shift. Though I stayed and tried to help them come up with ways of getting you both back."
The older man frowned and tilted his head. "You did?" He asked, sounding surprised, which in turn surprised Graham.
"Of course I did. Sam and I worked through the night trying to make the gate coordinates that the Tok'Ra gave us work, and finally they did, so we sent the MALP through. One of the creatures that .. took you.. appeared on the screen and then nothing. It must have damaged the MALP. When we tried to establish the worm hole we couldn't."
"The gate was damaged," Daniel said, the tone of his voice clearly indicated his total surprise that Graham had worked so hard at getting him home.
A faint, bewildered smile twitched at the corners of Graham's mouth. "Why do you seem so surprised? Where the hell do you think I would have done for the past three days, Dan?"
The honey-blond brows darted upwards and creased Daniel's forehead. "I guess.. I just assumed.." He shrugged.
Graham bowed his head and crossed his arms over his chest. He coughed softly then rocked back and forth on his feet for a moment.
"Do you.. um.. want to meet up after work?" He finally looked up and met Daniel's eyes. "We should talk.."
The anthropologist inhaled deeply then nodded and lowered his chin to his chest. "Sure." Recalling that this was the plan before he left, he was not looking forward to this. "Wanna meet at a bar, or.. something?"
"I can come to your place, or you can come to mine," Graham said quietly and unenthusiastically due to Daniel's seeming lack of interest.
"When's your shift over?"
Graham checked his watch. "Fifteen minutes."
"Then let's meet back at your place. I have debrief in ten minutes and I've no idea how long that might take."
"We can make it another time, if you'd rather.." Graham said, reluctantly.
"No, that should be fine. I'm feeling okay since Sam used the device on me."
"Not too tired?" Graham asked.
Daniel shrugged. "Weary," he said, "more than tired, I guess."
The lieutenant nodded then sighed in and out through his nose. "I really ought to get back. This has got to have been the longest bathroom break in history."
Daniel nodded glumly. "Sure," he said, then as Graham reached the door he said, "I'll come over as soon as I can."
The younger man looked him up then down, nodded and left the infirmary. Daniel closed his eyes slowly and shook his head as misery filled him. After a moment he dropped to his feet and left the room, determined to shower and change before the meeting.
<End of Part 92>
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.