Captain Montgomery Ellis

Our plan didn't backfire, but it didn't quite work the way we anticipated either.

Most of us had been horrified by the toll that recovering Colonel O'Neill had taken on Lt. Van Sickle. We all knew that Eric was still recovering from the injury that took his eye and part of his hand. Some of us noticed the depression he fought because of that loss. Fewer of us noticed the budding friendship between him and the colonel. Only one of us disapproved; and painted it to be a sick perversion. The only perversion was in even thinking it.

Lt. Dennis Wong and I knew there was no perversion, only the deep longing of a father for a son and son for a father. This strong need set the cornerstone of trust between our two leaders. A trust so bright and shiny that our young lieutenant was convinced that it had drowned out there in PBX 123's idea of a storm drain. That somehow, he had betrayed the colonel. Done something that he believed the man could not or would not over look, something so bad that it killed that trust. I'm sure that nothing quite that wrong happened out there.

It had to have been here, when they were alone. Something happened in that stone vault during the attempt to kill the colonel. Perhaps when Eric was forced to break his new friend's arm? Dazed and injured he did his level best; far more than I could have done. Yet he blames himself deeply for something and seems to be convinced that the friendship is over.

To see our leaders brought to such a state united us, bound us together. Such new ties need a direction, and since Colonel O'Neill was taken home by Teal'c, only Lt. Van Sickle remained. We were determined that no further harm would touch him. That was our mistake. We crowded, hung and suffocated him. Oblivious to his nature, we committed a cardinal sin, we reduced him to a child in our midst and we were his babysitters. With his subordinates further wounding his pride on top of the weight of his own self-disgust, he did the only thing left to him. He ran.

That stung like a slap in our collective faces. Our outpouring of allegiance treated as if we'd offered the vilest of insults. Collectively we stood stunned for a moment, and then as one, we spread out and searched; and as luck would have it he had not run far. Singly we all arrived at the cliff overlooking the now sodden grasslands in which a lake now hid beneath muddy floodwaters.

Having been among the first to arrive, I watched as the young man perched precariously on the cliff edge stooped lower and stiffened more with each arrival. His back was to us, yet he reacted to each new addition as if a heavy sack of sand were added to his shoulders each time. Dennis suggested that we leave our leader to brood; he had run to seek solitude, needing it to cope with the events that threatened to break him. Such is the weight of leadership.

Only Lt. Dennis Wong and I remained, hidden and watching as darkness fell. We watched as Eric drew in on himself, physically making himself small and insignificant. And as the first heart wrenching sob hiccupped through the dark in which he had finally achieved invisibility, I moved unerringly towards the cliff edge, totally unable to see it or the person whose cries of emotional pain split the darkness.

All I knew was here was a pain as my wife had suffered when one of those children we hosted for a short time had died only days after going on to another haven, one that the small girl had fled from in fear and died in that flight. The love of my life grieved in the same manner as our leader did now. Then I had held her until her salt tears had flushed the guilty agony from her soul. With each sobbing breath and slick tear I blamed myself for her pain, she had wanted to keep the small girl and I had not. I vowed to never be the cause of such pain again.

Eric's pain was not my doing, but only the cruel could stand and ignore it. I sought to comfort him in my rush to his side. Dennis followed close on my heels, his motive I could not say, but he was unstinting of his physical comfort and calming words as was I. Between the two of us he held a man I would trust with my life, here reduced to a sobbing child in the face of overwhelming events he did not understand; and in the loss of one he had grown to love and need. Both of us felt Eric respond to our touches and words, eventually tiring and sliding into a deep sleep

With the help of the others, some who had returned when we had not followed, we left our leader asleep, safely back from the cliff edge he had in a way fallen from. We all agreed his breakdown was from exhaustion; and from the bony feel of his thin body, lack of food.

Later we agreed that he would submit to our care and so the note was written and left for him to find.

Eric did as we asked, he ate and rolled over and slept. He lazed the day away. Once in awhile, just to let him know he was needed, one of us would go to him and report, or ask what they should do. From afar I stood rubbing the crystal face of his watch, our hostage to his good behavior, under the pad of my thumb, watching. Dennis conspired to be there with me. He, rather than I, should have done the watching, he's the one with the education to spot emotional problems. But those sobs still rang in my skull, I would not leave, I could not.

Dennis finally approached him at dinner, personally bringing it. He stayed as Eric ate, and then helped him gather up the blankets that padded the hard stone and headed towards me. Both of them stopped within a few feet. Eric looked me right in the face, I couldn't tell the live eye from the artificial. This I had seen before, but on O'Neill. The mask.

The lieutenant politely asked for his watch, which I gave him in exchange for his burden of blankets. He turned and strode towards the ramp, headed no doubt for the living areas within the alien complex.

"That doesn't look good," I mumbled out, my eyes watching the stiff back recede at the behest of not quite fuming strides.

"You are correct, it is not good. He is angry," Lt. Wong responded as he too watched Lt. Van Sickle disappear in the distance.

"At us?"

"Curiously, no. He is angry at himself it seems and I was unable to discover why." Dennis's eyes locked onto mine, he appeared subdued. Was their conversation that bad?

"What were you able to discover?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? You and he talked for nearly an hour out there. And he said nothing?" Showing my inability to grasp such a concept by holding and lifting up my hands, palms up in a shrug and stared at him intently, waiting for an answer.

"Only of the business at hand. He has become astonishingly single-minded literally over night. More so than previously." Dennis's eyes whipped back towards the ramp; in the lowering light it could not be seen. "I tried to broach many of the subjects that would answer to his state of mind, even resorting to out and out blatantly asking. Our young wolf pointed out that the events between he and Colonel O'Neill were no one's business but theirs. I fear our young leader has religion."

"Religion? Out here?"

"He worships at the alter of O'Neill. I fear that in his mind he has lost the man's respect and friendship. All he has left is the man's ideals and those are now his bible.

Dennis is a very deep person and what he was saying was in that kind of code that the well educated can be trapped in. I'm a more down to earth type and speak plainly, never ascending to that height of communication. His words were explained by watching Eric Van Sickle and what he did.

Driven is what I would say. The project and completing it to the satisfaction of Colonel O'Neill was his only goal. From his first wakening to when he literally collapsed from fatigue deep in the alien night, his one-day of rest was soon burned from his already exhausted body. We did all we could to slow him down, even using small deceits to do so. But finally the only weapon we had was to become more driven than our leader, accomplishing tasks before Lt. Van Sickle could conceive them.

Teal'c returned only a few days after taking Colonel O'Neill back to the SGC, but in those few days more work had been done than twice our number should have been capable of. We were far beyond any goals originally set down in the mission instructions I'd seen, that any of us had seen, except perhaps Eric. He wrote the instructions; he had to know more, nearly as much as O'Neill the true architect of this mission. As penance for his imagined sins, Eric was attempting to bring a dream to fruition, perhaps prematurely.

Teal'c might be the one to speak to regarding Eric. Like the others we all followed the big Jaffa and our leader to breakfast and watched. Dennis and I exchanged a few words, enough for me to explain that I would talk to our visitor about our problem with Eric. Perhaps he could provide advice on what we should do.

From across the starkly lit room Eric Van Sickle did a remarkable imitation of a whole person, a person with no problems, only solutions. Only, I don't think that Teal'c was buying it. Not that I could tell from that face of chiseled stone, no ripples of emotions passed across it. My only clue was his constant scanning of everyone else in the room, only paying attention to the lieutenant when the conversation warranted it, eating his meal his distraction to his observations.

Those piecing dark eyes skewered me more than once, each time for a longer interval. Feeling as if the whole room knew he was asking questions with those all-knowing alien eyes. My futile glances at the others told me no one took notice of these demands. Following Teal'c's lead my meal became an all-consuming task.

"CaptainEllis."

"Teal'c, you've scarcely been gone," I choked out, startled by his silent and unexpected approach.

"Yet much seems to have happened during my absence. How fares your young leader?"

That question lead to a long walk and an even longer conversation. A difficult conversation, one during which the huge dark man attentively listened to and commented on; comments that relieved me greatly. He was sure that the Colonel still considered the friendship alive and well. But I hadn't thought what Eric's mental state could do to the injured man. Both were so alike I kicked myself for not seeing it. O'Neill would worry himself sick if he knew about this problem, it needed to be solved. And Teal'c seemed to have a good idea what that solution should be.

It's just that his declaration seemed so dire coming from him. If anyone else had said it the way he had I'd know for sure that a dramatic bend was being put to the words by the speaker's ego. We humans are good at that. I know the solution and only I can fix it. We can be such drama queens. But this man, this Jaffa, is alien. I'm darn sure he doesn't do drama queen and wouldn't have the faintest idea what it would mean to boost his own importance through future acts of kindness.

Perhaps it's me and what I feel from him. He is a Jaffa, a perfect picture of the enemy, and that air of controlled danger that is his presence might have something to do with it. I know I feel uneasy around him, even when he goes out of his way to reassure me that he is not a danger to me. I trust him. I do. My body may be telling tales out of school, but my mind sees how O'Neill trusted him, even as ill and incoherent as he was. That cannot be faked. I'll trust Teal'c. He will remedy this. But, I wish I knew how.

Teal'c

Living among the Tau'ri forced me to learn their ways quickly, yet much stood in the way of that understanding. Their own words the highest of walls against my divining of a race of humans who I mistook to be as any other I had interacted with. This proved to be one of the biggest and most shameful of tactical mistakes of my life. Only the knowledge that Bra'tac and O'Neill are such unique individuals curbs my admonishment; Bra'tac for his insight into O'Neill; and O'Neill for who he is, a man like no other.

O'Neill does not lie. This is a true and untrue statement. Only Master Bra'tac was able to clarify it for me, his infinite wisdom looking into the heart and soul of my avowed brother of the heart. His declaration that O'Neill possessed the honor of a Jaffa Master, a statement he would deny to this death, illuminated his difference from his own race. Since then I have discovered others who possess this trait, GeneralHammond, MajorCarter, DanielJackson, DoctorFrasier, and yet others.

The language of the Jaffa and the human slaves of our false gods is old and unchanged since the beginning of our history. It is simple, containing words of singular meaning. The language of the Earth is new, rooted in the old, but alive and changing, growing. One word has many meanings, sometimes even meaning more than is agreed upon by the users of this quicksilver speech.

What the Tau'ri say and what they ultimately do is not usually what I envision. This gap in understanding can be narrowed through observation and comparison with the words. I understood Captain Ellis' words, but did I understand his meaning? That was my next task, to test my understanding through observation.

Captain Monty Ellis

Knowing that Teal'c seemed to have a plan to deal with Lt. Van Sickle's little problem proved to be such a huge relief that I hadn't realized just how much it had been weighing on me, on all of us. After discussing my conversation with the big Jaffa with Dennis, we both agreed to split up and tell the others. Everyone was so tired and worn out, but each of us was determined to outlast our stubborn team leader.

So it was that after the majority of the day had passed and just before our break for dinner Teal'c decided that it was time that he returned to the SGC. All of the men who had brought supplies had returned long before lunch. A wonderful lunch, the very last of our fresh consumables had been rationed as much as possible over the last couple of days and had run out just the day before. It was amazing how much the loss of fresh bread and fruit were so quickly missed.

Dennis and I arrived together for lunch at our prearranged a time. Each of us had spoken to half of our group. My half included Major Drake, who, to my relief, barely grunted at the information I gave her. Not that I told her a thing about Eric, but I was duty bound to inform her of the supplies, some earmarked for her use on her part of the project. Our mission had been expanded to take advantage of our extended stay. General Hammond himself had penned the additional goals.p>

Lt. Van Sickle immediately swung into overdrive, determined to achieve these new goals before the end of the day. He was everywhere and nowhere at once, he and his shadow. Teal'c was always within sight of the lieutenant. He watched unobtrusively, so much so that I probably missed him most of the first half of the morning. He and Eric only exchanged a few words during lunch.

At lunch Teal'c requested permission to explore the tunnels alone, I watched as Eric considered it and approved his request. None of us had ever found anything remotely dangerous, except for that shunt valve for the reservoirs. And it was highly unlikely that anyone, especially me, would go near it until we understood its use better. That was Drake's problem, she may be a pain in the ass but she was a good engineer. She would figure it out.

We all knew that Teal'c would leave before the day was out, we just didn't know when. We wanted to be there when he left. And I still wondered at just what the man had in mind to straighten out our young leader's misconceptions. Dennis was the one that let me know everyone was headed for the gate. I limped out of the dark ramp, trailing behind a much faster Dennis Wong, our gentle giant of a lieutenant. Again I wondered why the man wasn't at least a major by now.

Breaking out into the dying light of day in the 'gate Canyon I saw the Stargate was active and increased my limping gait to get closer. Teal'c stood with his back to the blue shimmer, facing Lt. Van Sickle. They seemed to be conversing; actually Teal'c seemed to be conversing. Eric stood there, rigid. Almost as if he were being dressed down. I cursed my disability, this damned gimp knee that slowed me down so much. My eyes were on the ground more than on the two men standing before the 'gate.

When I nearly reached the edge of the stone platform that the 'gate stood on I raised my eyes. Teal'c appeared to be looking directly at me. I looked hard at him, his staff weapon in his left hand, parallel to the ground, trying to figure out just what was going on. Wasn't he a bit close to the 'gate I thought? Then he nodded at me, looking straight at me. I blinked in surprise as his eyes bored into me.

Then it happened.

'My God!' Smiling hugely, I thought, 'He did have a solution.'

Major Sam Carter

"Mandatory retirement."

"Oh..."

Again the horror and pain strike. Again I live the moment outside of Janet's office where I overheard her and the specialist speaking of Colonel O'Neill's condition. Again I realize that he will not be coming back from this one. Again my heart explodes, sharp shards cutting through my soul. Jack!

Lurching upright, tearing at the clinging bedclothes, gasping for breath in the dark vacuum of my on base quarters, wet hot drops spatter my arms in their frantic movements to free myself only to slip over the edge of the narrow mattress and crash to the floor tightening their grip.

Hitting the cold concrete shocks me from the emotional grip of my nightmare, and I lay there face down releasing the last of the tears to the floor I can only feel. Ruthlessly I calm my sobs. With practiced deliberate care I force the woman who is Sam back to that place deep well within me. Weakness dissipates through the now sure, swift movements that work at disentangling my body from the sheets. No thoughts impinge my blank-as-a-slate mind during this by-rote task done with military precision, a task I could do with my eyes shut, and have. Training and assurance ascendant, loose thoughts locked away where they belong, Jack's anguished face denied by Major Carter's cool unflappable persona. Feelings for 'him' locked away again in 'that room.'

When the bed was made to specs, taut enough to bounce a quarter on, I turned to gather what I will need to shower, my mind already checking mental lists of tasks that Major Carter needed to perform. It would be a long day of research and study as long as SG-1 is on stand-down.

Only under the stinging spray of water, a shade too cool, does my mind cross that boundary between Major Carter and Sam. Never before has this boundary been so blurred; only 'he' can do that. Sam's upwelling of emotions nearly drowns me. It is times like this that I wonder how I can pass my required psych evals. There are too many people inside my head: Samantha, Sam, Sammy and Carter. Someone different for each important person in my life, except one. For him, and only him, do all my personalities clamor for. For him I can be whole, a welding of the many.

That piece of me that emerges in his presence clearly fits into the hole his soul contains, like a key to a lock. Just as he makes me one person, I know I can make him whole also. That 'something' he freely gives I can turn back around and fill in that void within him. But to do that I must remain, he may create the key, but it is I, and only I, who can entice the lock to embrace it. Once joined it must be forever.

This lock, that is Jack, has suffered the loss of more than one key in his life. Each loss ripped away the inner man and little survived. So selfless is he that he would risk that small bit for my sake. I would not.

My wandering thoughts again cross through that overheard knowledge that I'm base-bound for one reason, that my CO has been injured so badly that he will never return to lead us - or me. Though the lock has been broken, perhaps the key will still fit? Before me lies so many possibilities, some of a truly fantastic nature that brings a burning at the center of my very being. And surprise. That burning is very real and very physical. It should be familiar, as I have awakened in the night in the afterglow of it, my mind still bright with images of him. My skin smoldering with his dreamed of touches, his moans at my own caresses still echoing in my ears. So real. Yet not.

I turn off the water with a savage twist of the wrist. Those thoughts are forbidden. I am Major Carter.

Yet, Sam's fear crowded up that well in the floor of my mind where she lives, to overtake and drown Carter. Staggering I finally reached my locker to cling to its open door. Sam's fear releases the same fear that Carter holds, that Sammy holds, as does Samantha. All of us know the root of this fear. That Colonel O'Neill - Jack - will revert to an old strategy to deal with the shattering of his life. His son's death only a handful of years earlier was the last time, it is his solution to that that scares us - me.

Busily my hands do the necessary tasks to dress, my mind full of the tragedies that this man has borne in his life. How could anyone survive it? He told me himself in Antarctica. Sara. For the love of his wife, then Captain Jack O'Neill crawled across the burning desert; dragging his broken body through scorching sand and debilitating pain to return to the woman he loved. A miraculous wonder fills me at this superhuman feat of devotion. To be loved by a man capable of that...

'His ex-wife,' whispers among the inhabitants of my head. Anger builds as the wonder sours. She left him. How could any woman leave that kind of devotion? Even the death of their son, even her thinking the unthinkable, that Charlie died needlessly. And Jack was to blame. Jack lived for Sara and Charlie. How could she believe he could endanger his son like that?

Now, he has neither. Only us, SG-1, but only until he is discharged for medical reasons. Then will he have no one, he will see to that.

Jack, like any man, has flaws. This is his flaw; he will push away everyone and everything that means anything to him. Convinced he is unworthy of another's friendship, devotion... love. Even my love.

I don't care if he'll never be the physically strong man he was. Lying there paralyzed, he's still the man I love.

Convincing him of that fact will be the problem. That I loved him, that I love him, that I will always love him. I don't give a damn if he's unable to move, just as long as his heart beats I want him. Even cold in the ground I'd want him, even enough to join him in that final slumber.

Convincing him to submit, that will be the trick.

Colonel Jack O'Neill

Death wasn't so bad; makes me wonder just why I'd fought against it most of my life.

The pain was gone. Couldn't actually feel anything; except - warmth.

Death had at first been very cold; and having been close to it before, I recognized its chill. This warmth was a pleasant surprise.

Why had I been cold for so long? Was that some kind of penance for my transgressions in life? Was there a heaven and hell?

That slow lazy thought gave me a moment of true regret, though not for long. Because with the regret came the reason. My son, my soul, my bequeathment to my race had died. Having been the instrument I took that blame, but that higher being that had used me refused blame. That I could not forgive. So, I was sure that if there were a heaven I wasn't there.

I really didn't want to leave. No responsibility. No guilt. No nothing in fact. The weight was gone, for the first time in a long time I wasn't bowed under it. No longer did I need to calculate every thought or move to accommodate it. So, yeah, I was gonna ignore all the sensations and sounds that were intruding.

It was the pain that finally stirred me, bought back by the warmth. This must be hell, for I had enjoyed my respite too much, now I was paying for it. Is that a voice? Yes, it is, there was something about the voice and the touches that came with it.

Slowly and with infinite care I reached out to the past, to life that felt so close, yet lost to me. Surprise suffused me when I felt and heard my own feeble cough and just for good measure I tried again. I coughed.

Theologians speak of revelations, well that cough was my mine. Not dead, but alive. I was alive.

Prying open the windows to my soul, I was greeted with blinding brightness, shadows and colors seen through a distortion that shocked me by dripping across my cheek. Tears. I blinked them away and focused on the voice. The shadows and colors resolved; and recognition flashed through me and that engendered a different pain. Somehow I'd found my way home. Or to those who are home. Longing had me reaching out and I spoke.

"Eric."

General George Hammond

It just isn't possible, I'd like to be there for as each team returns, but there's 24 hours in a day, seven days in a week and 52 weeks in a year. There is only one of me. I try. If I could I'd be there for every man, but reality forces me to prioritize my presence. This homecoming I made sure I was available for, as I had for as many of SG-1's homecomings as possible. They are the flagship team, they are first contact, and Galactic diplomacy follows them like a bad smell. Even if this is only one member of SG-1, I've learned never to underestimate the strange attraction for trouble that Colonel O'Neill's team is famous for.

Therefore, I was there when Teal'c stepped through. He wasn't alone. Was he bringing trouble with a capital T? One very large hand was clamped around Lt. Van Sickle's upper arm. The young man looked white as a sheet.

"Teal'c?" I spoke after toggling the mike on; the Jaffa's head came up as he zeroed in on me, and then dipped in a slight bow of respect. He seemed unhurried and relaxed.

"GeneralHammond, I wish to proceed to the Infirmary."

The lieutenant stood there looking at the floor. Teal'c's upturned face was unreadable and would probably still be so if he were a yard away rather than a level below me. Teal'c knew what he was doing and I trusted him.

"Go ahead, see me when you're able," I answered.

He acknowledged me with another bow of his head and he carefully, gently, but firmly pulled the younger man along, toward the security door; headed for his stated destination.

Doing an about-face, I threaded my way through the control room, headed for my office. For all the world as if this was expected, planned, routine. I hadn't the foggiest notice about what was going on.

Lt. Eric Van Sickle

Seeing Teal'c arrive represented two things to me. That supplies had arrived, making progress on the project more certain. And, a cruel reminder of what I had lost.

Having no right to feel the loss, I worked with the first reason exclusively. To knew to do otherwise would surely destroy me, and I had no fondness to revisit my embarrassing breakdown into childish tears. Only my focus on the goal keep me functional and the exhaustion it left behind enabled me to sleep the sleep of innocence, no matter how undeserving of that I was.

Undeserving of Colonel O'Neill's friendship and probably his respect, I have chosen to live up to his ideals, his standards. To become an officer he would be proud of, an asset to the Air Force. This was my only way to show my respect, and... love. A heady word -- love, But in the short time that I known the colonel I had grown to love him. Perhaps that was my mistake, and one I would learn from.

I may have loved the colonel as a son would a father, but it is plain to me now that he only held fondness for an apt pupil, he encouraged a future asset to Earth. I read way too much into his kindness. His offer of friendship wasn't an offer to become the center of my universe. Only I am to blame for the destruction of our fledgling camaraderie. For hurting him, breaking his arm and nearly getting him killed. Teal'c says that what I had done was right, but he wasn't there to see the man's eyes, to hear his cries or feel him tremble at my violent touch.

It's for the best. Better that Colonel O'Neill goes on without me, to forget the pain I brought into his life, just as I brought pain into my own father's life. Love is a rare thing, and there is none for me, and forgetting that caused a good man to suffer.

Just looking at Teal'c brought all of these painful revelations back to the here and now. All I wished was to perform the duties to pay penance for my arrogance in believing that anyone could love me. Avoiding Teal'c was the only way to avoid these thoughts. Only Teal'c had his own agenda, one that didn't take into account the pain I suffered. During the whole day he wasn't far from my sight. His surveillance of me had more to do with me granting him permission to wander the tunnels alone. Granting that request gave me an undeserved relief.

Punishment, like love was forbidden to me. That was left to me. No discipline would be dealt out to me for harming the colonel, for losing the colonel or for just plain not being what everyone, including O'Neill, believed me to be. Reason told me how wrong this line of thinking was, but my heart had other ideas.

My heart learned different reasons for the actions or non-actions of those around me. Telling me how unworthy and undeserving of their attention I truly was. My mind attempted to counter my heart's words. Somehow I knew I had it all wrong, but I just couldn't resist, too long has my heart been right. I was alone; I've always been alone.

Even under the knowing eyes of Teal'c I remained alone. Now as he told me how wrong I was about what Colonel O'Neill thought about me I was alone in my conviction that he would have nothing more to do with me. Damn it, I knew I had screwed it up between us and for some reason Teal'c insisted that I was wrong.

Being wrong would be the greatest event in my entire life, but I've never been wrong, not entirely. His insistence angered me and I stiffened before him. Haloed by the active wormhole he stood with outreached hand vainly trying to convince me that I was wrong and rejecting O'Neill would harm him and myself.

I longed to swing around and run. I'd tried that, it got me nowhere, and I only succeeded in proving just how flawed I was. Crying like a child, unable to be the man I yearned to prove myself to be. How could I possibly live up to the new standards I'd imposed onto myself if I ran? So I stood there and endured. Stiff backed, rigid with the effort to remain and hear the words I knew could never be true. The words I wished with all my soul was.

Teal'c, frustrated by my inability to believe in his version of his friend's emotional needs became impassioned in his words. So surprising me with such emotion in this controlled warrior that there was no resistance at all as that entreating hand of his connected with my arm to jerk me forward into the bright simmer before me.

Cold and horror.

Instinctively I knew that he would take me to Colonel O'Neill. To... No! I would not use the name he allowed me to use for a brief time.

My heart was ice, my skin was death and horror frozen my thoughts as I found myself staring at the grating that made up the ramp in the Embarkation Room of the SGC. Through a veil of incomprehensible voices I waited. Not even feeling Teal'c's painful grip as he held me prisoner. He tugged me towards my unexpected punishment, my confrontation and confirmation of my heart's words - to see Colonel O'Neill.

I'd always wondered how the condemned saw their last walk to the death chamber; this was it. Stumbling steps down echoing darkened halls, lined with the painfully curious, To be stopped just outside one's destiny, examined and argued over by this official or that. Then tugged into a tiny room filled to overflowing with that final place of physical repose - the chair, voices instructing with words that made no sense at all, and finally the feeling of abandonment washes over you. An isolation so complete that the walls seem friendly in comparison, you are utterly alone.

Gulping breaths to panting breaths, to breaths barely felt. No even the swishing of blood pulsing within holds back the absolute silence. Finally when the silence cannot be endured, you open your eyes and look around. There it is and you shudder in the agony of its nearness, his nearness.

His limp body miraculously stirs; eyelids flutter to eventually reveal soft brown eyes that suck you in. You heart seizes in terror as those pale lips purse to speak.

"Eric."

All I can do is stare and see the effort I cause as the colonel raises his arm in a gesture of greeting and welcome. A come hither that I cannot answer, dare not answer. Who am I? Just the 'boy' who broke the other arm that lies at his side encased in blinding white plaster and propped up by bedding. I'm only the person who hurts him. Why would he even want me in the room?

Unable to endure the pain my presence causes I close my eye and let my head droop. Inside I silently cursed my parents for their total lack of birth control and Teal'c for his devotion to this man, devotion that blinded him to the fact that bringing me here would do more harm than good.

"Eric?"

The slightly hurt question is like a gust of razor blades against my soul, leaving it slashed, but not yet bleeding. In that tiny interval before my lifeblood pours forth the world tilts on its axis.

"Please."

The horrible pain, longing and desire packed into that word transports me across the room and into his embrace, my face carefully buried in his shoulder, instead of hugging him to me I prop myself above his battered body, allowing the warmth of our combined body heat to build. With his only useable arm he grips me as tightly as any exhausted and injured man can.

"I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry."

His words of apology are slow to sink in as I wantonly indulge in feeling his grip of welcome, a welcome I'd never foreseen. It sinks in with each word he hoarsely speaks.

"I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to cause you pain. Please forgive me. Don't hate me. Don't leave me alone. Please. I'm sorry. Are you hurt? I should have protected you. Forgive me."

Every word he utters is but an echo of my own words slashed across my soul. Shit, no. He believed that I had rejected him. The truth is so heavy I nearly slip my full weight onto him, in a panic I push up onto the bed next to him, anything to prevent me from accidentally injuring him. Isn't it enough that I've just discovered that I'd injured his soul, quite unwittingly, but I had?

Teal'c's words, spoken in front of the open Stargate on PBX 123 suddenly made sense, everything suddenly made sense. Jack and I were still friends. Only our own insecurities convinced us otherwise. Together we are stronger, we support one another. Circumstance alone drove us apart.

Lifting my head I looked into his face, into those slightly glazed eyes and knew the truth. He was my friend, hurt and confused, but still he was my friend. In his confusion he'd convinced himself that I suffered at his hands as I had convinced myself he has suffered at mine. In truth we had saved each other and took the blame as our own. Neither of us was to blame.

Cradling his cheek in my hand I dropped my head unto his shoulder and drew in a shuddering breath before lifting it again. Gazing into those wounded eyes of his I told him the truth.

"I'm fine Jack, you saved me. I'm okay now. It's you that needs to recover. I'm sorry I couldn't prevent you from being injured further. I tried. Can you forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive. My fault."

I smiled, a true smile, the first in a long time.

"No, not your fault, not anyone's fault," I spoke softly, rubbing my thumb gently across his abraded cheek, watching as the excitement burned his reserves. His eyelids fluttered, keeping himself awake, no matter the desire he had, wasn't a possibility.

"Sleep. Everything is just fine. Sleep."

He quickly lost the battle and slept. For long minutes, I sat and watched him breathe, lost in the wonder of what had just happened. Then the horror of what could have occurred began to sink in, thankfully not into my heart, but into my head. I'd allowed my feelings to do all the thinking; I'd almost screwed it up. Slowly, I lifted myself from his sick bed; carefully as to not to disturb his well deserved rest. Retreating to the chair I had just a moment ago seen as a chair of execution, I shifted into it and really thought about what had happened.

Maybe I should see a shrink?

Dr Janet Fraiser

It wasn't an increase in activity that drew my attention, it was the opposite. The complete cessation of all the routine sounds of a busy infirmary alerted me to the problem now standing just inside the doors. Looking over the chart I was updating my voice faltered and died as my eyes fell upon the intruders there. Totally forgetting the airman I had been talking to, I was pulled towards the two figures, especially the smaller, younger, worn man there.

I only had eyes for Lt. Van Sickle. He was pale, limp and had an air of defeat about him. He gazed at the floor. This was the first Lt. Van Sickle I had met, the one I hoped never to see again.

"Teal'c, let's get him settled on a gurney," I commanded reaching for the thin, walnut colored arm, the deep tan not quite hiding a bruise above his elbow. He'd lost muscle mass, in direct contradiction to my orders. Anger flashed through me. He had been injured and no one had bothered to bring him back with the colonel, I whipped my head around to Teal'c, accusation in my eyes and words crowded to leap from my tongue.

"We are here to see O'Neill."

Stunned by what he said in the face of my anger. Anger I knew for a fact he could easily read, Colonel O'Neill I'm not. I stared dumbfounded at him. Unable to read any reaction in his face, I broke contact and shifted my appraisal to the lieutenant. All I could see of him was nose, forehead and a black mop of disheveled hair.

"Not going to happen," I hissed and attempted to tug the younger man in the direction of the waiting gurney. He didn't resist, but Teal'c did. The lieutenant might as well have been welded to the floor.

"Teal'c..."

"It is necessary."

Frustration is something I'd learned long ago to deal with; this was close to overwhelming me. Unable to treat an obvious injury is by far the worst scenario to me. But there was something else going on here. I knew that Teal'c would do all in his power to protect Jack and anyone he valued; and he certainly valued this young man. Stooping down, I peeked up into Eric's face, what I saw wasn't good. Despondent wouldn't even cover the expression there. His beautiful green eye was dull and dark, his face pale beneath the healthy tan. And more bruises.

Those bruises had me pinning Teal'c with a worried plea for an explanation, he answered by gently drawing the younger man towards Colonel O'Neill's private room. Teal'c's eyes never left mine until I raised both eyebrows in a shrug of assent and received an elegant dip of his head before he devoted his whole attention to the lieutenant. He gave the impression of maneuvering a delicate handblown glass ornament through a room full of moving obstacles.

The door wasn't shut long before Teal'c reappeared, minus his precious delivery. That remained behind. Making to step forward, my destination the same room, I was blocked by a wall of Jaffa. Not a word was spoken, all was revealed by his eyes. Never had I had such an emotional conversation with this man. Laying a hand on his arm I answered his silent plea for understanding.

"They will remain undisturbed until you return. You have my promise."

Slowly he closed his eyes and bowed shoulders and head in thanks, then proceeded on toward the corridor and what ever he needed to do. Giving time to Jack and Eric to do what they needed to do, what ever that was. But knowing Teal'c, it was something very important to them both and not doing it would affect everyone in the Mountain.

Resuming my rounds, I immersed myself into my work. Time would pass quickly this way I knew, so quickly that the tentative touch on my arm was almost missed in my performance of my current task.

"Ma'am."

Looking up I smiled freely at the wane, but infinitely better looking Lt. Van Sickle.

"Lieutenant, what can I do for you?"

"Just a word in private, Ma'am."

"Hmmm, I'd like to get a better look at you while we talk, how about in here?" Pushing the curtain aside for one of the exam areas I waved off the nurse whose instructions I'd just completed. His eye followed the nurse as she left, I could see the same look that Colonel O'Neill had when he really wanted to just leave the infirmary and hold up somewhere to nurse his wounds. Eric even had that huffing exhalation of resignation down pat, as he gingerly climbed up onto table. "Remove, your shirt please," got me another patented O'Neill expression, almost. Eric was putting a bit of himself into that one, making it his own, just a cocky false smile, rather than Jack's grimace of distaste.

Getting him to talk about the new bruises seemed easier than expected, but then I probably expected him to resist much as Jack would. What he told me was more than I'd heard in the briefing about how the colonel came to be injured the way he was. Near the end of the narrative the poor young man was shivering, I called for a warmed blanket and draped it around his shoulders, drawing it tight at the throat.

"Sorry, I didn't intend to get all emotional."

"I must admit that your tale is full of emotion, but I think that coming back to this dank, cold mountain after being on a planet as warm as PBX 123 has more to do with your chills. Are you feeling better now," that question was a broad-spectrum type and I hoped to hear more than the obvious answer.

"Yes, I do. In more ways than a warm blanket could account for. Thank you. But I did have a request to make." His smile of thanks faded as he stiffened, forcing out the last sentience. This was going to be difficult for him. I knew all the signs.

"I... ah... That is..."

"Eric, there is nothing you can say that will diminish you in my eyes. Just say it."

"Ah... Jack... Ah, Colonel O'Neill said that you could find me a decent shrink, not like that jerk Means. So... Ah... Can you?"

By the end of his stuttering speech he was studying the tips of his dusty boots with full attention.

"Eric?" Reluctantly he looked up at me and I smiled reassuringly. "No problem. At the colonel's request I've already picked out a few candidates for you. First I'd like you to visit with an old friend of mine, he'll evaluate you and help you choose the right person for you to talk to. You'll like him, the colonel hasn't shot him yet."

He tried to strangle the laugh that produced, without success.

"I'd like that, Ma'am. I... ah, just don't..."

"Want to be stuck with someone you don't like or trust. Don't worry, you will decide who you see and when. Only when you trust the person you picked will you be asked to surrender that control to the therapist, psychiatrist or psychologist that you chose. And just so you'll know, the colonel and general put their heads together and created some checks in Academy Hospital's Mental Health program to prevent that kind of deception again. Only members of the military will be allowed on staff from now on. And even they must survive patient feedback. And for that I have you to thank."

Grinning at him, he reddened. He was so adorable, so young and so close to being a capable man like the colonel. It was easy to see what Jack saw in this youngster. And I knew he must have felt the pain too, this so easily could have been Charlie. Not in appearance, but very close in demeanor. Very much like a young Jack O'Neill. Jack has come a long way to be able to handle something like this.

"I'll make sure you have information on the likely candidates and my friend in the next communication to the planet. Meanwhile you are to reduce your workload and take it easy. If the project isn't done to the general's satisfaction you send him to me, I'm placing you back on restricted duty." Worry immediately clouded his face. "Now, now. I'm sure that having you healthy is much more important than the colonel's little project. Besides he promised me no wear and tear on you while there, so he owes me."

"Okay, no worries then. Besides, I... Umm... we're actually ahead, way ahead, of schedule. I think all of us can take a little time off. I know a few of my team have some private projects they'd like to get in before we're ordered back."

He was shrugging into his shirt, just stuffing in into the waistband without loosening his belt. He had lost that much weight. Shooing him out, confidant that he was going to be all right I headed for my office. There would be additional supplies going back with him. He needed feeding up and I knew just what kind of supplies I could wheedle out of the commissary for him.

On the way, I peeked in on Jack. He looked peaceful. I regretted that I'd missed his latest awakening, but the right person was there for him, that's what counted. At his next awakening I hoped the other right person he needed would be there. Sam.

Dr MacKenzie

Coffee?

My head popped up from the feather pillow, the comforter stuck under my nose, as I glanced around. It was really dark.

Oh.

Dragging up a hand I slipped off my sleeping mask, the golden light of a new day shone weakly through the curtained French Doors leading to my walled garden. The doors were closed, but the bedroom door wasn't, I was sure that I'd closed it.

Oh, my. I forgot all about Cochran. I'd slept all night and hadn't checked on him. Some friend I am.

Bounding from the bed, devoid of robe or slippers, I rushed down the hall to the guest bedroom. Its door also stood ajar. Slowing, I stopped just outside, pushed the door open further, and there on the perfectly made bed lay, not the supine body of my patient, but the handcuffs, locked empty handcuffs.

Oh my goodness. This isn't good.

Slowly I descended the stairs to the dining area; someone sat at a heavily laden table of food, screened by the morning paper.

"Coffee?"

A hand snaked out from under the colorful ads hawking furniture and mattresses, to shove an insulated coffee carafe in my direction.

"You... you..."

"Yeah, I know. I had to pee, so I decided to make breakfast too. The least I could do after your aborted play for my virtue last night." Wafted over the paper as it shook during the turning and rearranging of a page, his voice held a distinct amusement, with a hint of lecherous intent.

Oh!

"Sit down, Mac. We need to talk."

"Yes, we do," I mumbled, turning I retraced my steps to my bedroom, donned my robe and slippers and dutifully returned to the table. A huge plate of food had miraculously appeared at my intended place.

"I really don't eat stuff like this. In fact, I don't have food like this in the house. How...?"

"Couldn't make breakfast without the proper food, so I went to the store while you were sleeping. Hey, what's with that Lone Ranger mask you wear? It has no holes"

"To the store?"

"Yepper, borrowed your car, hope you don't mind?"

"You... you, touched my car?"

"Need to get it in for a oil change, it doesn't sound right at all. We can do that today or tomorrow, we'll use my car."

"Ah... I guess?" Tentatively I tried the little links of sausage. Hmmm. "But I don't think you should be going out, we need to do something about this aberrant behavior."

"Hey, it was you that cuffed me to the bed! Aberrant behavior my Aunt Antonia! Besides, we need to get to the Mountain. I have a lead on the bad guys. Someone's tampered with the surveillance cameras. Recently."

"No. No. I think you need to stay here," getting up I headed for the stash of sedatives I carried all the time. Opening the drawer, they were gone. I searched the other drawers just to ensure I hadn't slipped them into the wrong one. Looking up Cochran stood in the doorway with that goofy grin of his, seeing me looking at him he made shooing motions with his hand.

"Hurry up, get dressed. Leaving in about ten."

Backing up, I headed for the stairs, pretending to comply, I had a few sedatives upstairs I had intended to use on him. Just as I laid my hand on the armoire containing linens and the hidden sedatives his voice blared up the stairwell to me.

"Hey, Mac. You really are dead to the world when you sleep, there could have been a nuclear strike in your bedroom last night and you'd have not noticed. I'll be in the kitchen cleaning up, won't take me long so hurry up will ya."

Dropping my chin to my chest I sighed. What choice did I have? I really couldn't... could I? Lifting the phone I thought long and hard about having him picked up, the receiver nestled against my ear in habit, so concerned was I that it took me some time to realize that there was no dial tone. He had thought of everything. I was a prisoner in my own home and my jailer was my self-proclaimed friend. Or was he? I'd have to play along and bide my time. Then spring into action. He needed me and I was going to see that he was taken care of without destroying his career if I could. This was something I really should have afforded many of my patients, but rules are rules. Only this time I am willing to break them. Heaven help me.

***

He surprised me by letting me drive. He also talked non-stop, and for once I listened, really listened. What he had to say made sense, there was someone in the SGC intent on doing harm; either to his hero, Colonel O'Neill or that poor unfortunate young lieutenant the man was currently guilt-obsessed with. From the way Cochran spoke of the relationship developing between the two men, I may have an extremely harsh view of it. Maybe I had too harsh a view of Colonel O'Neill too. I was beginning to wonder.

Admittedly, I had already moderated my view of Hammond's 2IC, recognizing his ability to lead and protect those around him. Yet, I knew only what was written in psychological reviews of his private life, something he doesn't speak of. Even to his trusted team members, except, perhaps Dr. Jackson. And I would warrant he spoke very little even to him.

Cochran seemed more driven than myself in regards to Colonel O'Neill. Whereas, I needed to right my wrong of assumption, he seemed to be trying to draw the man's attention to himself, almost like a stalker would. But I got the feeling there was more to him and his desire to help O'Neill. Them, having met at some time in the past would not have surprised me in the least bit. The Colonel impressed many, either positively or negatively.

Every word left me in a quandary. What I had witnessed previously screamed mental breakdown of some type and I felt the need to get Cochran help. Yet, what he said was concise and well thought out, not at all like the ramblings of a broken mind. But worse of all the man expressed his trust - not in actions, but in words. Leaving me wondering just how sincere he was.

When I asked why he let me drive after all the trouble he'd gone to in preventing me from carrying out my original plan to confine him, what he said stunned me.

"Mac, my friend, you'll do the right thing, deep down you know I'm right, what we need to do is right."

Arrogant he is, but I do feel that he's right, even when my intellect is screaming the exact opposite at me.

So, for once in my life I ignored my celebrated intelligence and followed my gut. I drove him to the base and followed him blindly. I guess that to show trust, you must trust.

And I keep telling myself I had to trust all the time I stood in the perpetual darkness of the one of the security monitor stations. Not just any station, from rumors and whispers this would be the room that General Hammond and Colonel O'Neill ran training scenarios from, the secret one, that no one was supposed to know about. Apparently it wasn't that much of a secret.

This room was bigger, with better equipment and had a small lounge area with a compact kitchen area. And from the look of the some of the built in benches I wouldn't be surprised if someone could dog the hatch shut and live here for a few days.

Cochran busied himself with some of the computer equipment, occasionally cursing or exclaiming to himself. After making a few notes on a notebook from his pocket he beckoned me out of the room. I followed, determined to stick to him until we inevitably were caught.

He led me down to the Infirmary level to a back corridor and practically pushed me into an airshaft. Why was I here? Cochran didn't leave me in suspense long, crowding up to me he shone his flashlight down the dark metal shaft ahead of us.

"What do you see?" He asked.

"Dirt."

"Noooo, not just dirt. It's dust; better yet it's disturbed dust. See where the metal is clean? Someone's been here."

"That could have happened anytime, Sgt. Silers' men crawl all over the Mountain all the time."

"Not really true, there's been no 'official' maintenance in this duct for over a month."

"So, these marks were made a month ago. I still don't understand their significance."

"Ah, Mac. So naive, this is a dirty place. Even you saw dirt right away. Marks from a month ago would have long been covered with dust. Did you know they have a regular cleaning schedule for the duct work?"

"I don't usually pay attention to maintenance schedules."

"What! They have so much interesting information. Don't be such a snob. Even the little cogs do important work ya know."

"I am not a snob!"

"Sure ya are. Hey, don't be ashamed of it. If I have my way you won't be one much longer."

"What... is that a threat?"

"No, a promise."

"Enough! Why are we here?"

"Oh, just proving a theory. There've been some glitches in the surveillance cameras here on the Infirmary level, and two on the dorm levels."

"Glitches?"

"Yes, as in someone tampering with the cameras. I'd set up a program to watch for those when I first arrived, I could account for all of the interruptions in video feed except for three locations, on two separate occasions."

"Then you knew about this when you arrived?"

"Naw, I'm a snoop, haven't you noticed? But guess who lives on the dorm levels with glitches?"

"Well, Colonel O'Neill would probably be one, as to the other I haven't the faintest."

"Van Sickle is the other. It's the timing that gave it all away, the dorm level glitches occurred the day O'Neill set the kid up with a room. And the Infirmary wasn't tapped until O'Neill was confined there."

"That is too much for coincidence. But what do these glitches mean?"

"Ah, that's what we're here to discover. I'm betting some kind of bypass to fool the security monitors, allowing someone free movement within range of those cameras. Here," he handed me a flashlight, "Take this and follow the scuffmarks in the dust, where they end is where we begin."

It was a long, clumsy journey until the scuffmarks ended, now only untouched dust stretched ahead of us; Cochran nudged me to the side and illuminated the tinny metal walls. Three strips of silver tape marred the smooth metal, concealing a flap cut into the metal wall of the duct. Captivated by the patience that he could muster, I watched as he painstakingly teased the edges of the tape free, pulling it from the metal until he could pry up and peer under the flap. Sweat poured off me just watching him, he was totally unruffled by the tension I felt.

Would we be found out and questioned about our being here? Or worse, would the people who had been here - return?

"Ooh, this is even better than I thought. Mac, here. Take a look."

Since he reached out, cupped his hand around the back of my neck, and pulled, I had little choice but to look. Only at what?

"Captain, you do realize I don't comprehend any of what I'm seeing?"

"Hey, you're a smart guy. See, this is the video feed for the surveillance cameras on this level, should be just a bunch of black wires all together. But lookit this."

A black bar type box sat over the wires, each nestled neatly in a groove, and the box was screwed into the wall, pinning the wire down. Very symmetrical.

"Looks like a device to keep the wires from fouling."

"Ah..." He gave me a funny look, stared at the device and resumed, "Ah, guess so. But actually this is a tapping device; pins in the grooves tap into and divert the signal. When inactive, it's like it wasn't there, but with the right control, like a laptop, it can stop, delay, alter or replace the signal. Pretty seamlessly too, these are hard to detect. Their installation can cause a commotion and that was what I detected, their installation. We have some pretty well-provided heavies inside the SGC."

"We need to report this and have it removed then."

"Not so fast. This can be useful."

"Useful? How?"

"Now that I know it's here, I can set up my line tests differently and know when they get switched on. We'll know when they make their move."

"And that helps how?"

"We can cut them off at the pass."

"We? As in you and I?"

"Sure, it's prefect."

"Yes, I'm sure. This mess is perfectly suited to get us both into Leavenworth as swiftly as possible."

"Hey! What happened to your resolve to clear the air between you and Colonel O'Neill?"

"It's still there, I just don't see how my going to Leavenworth would achieve that."

"Okaaay. What if I asked you to help? One friend to another?"

That had me thinking for a long time,

"I don't...."

"Good, you're in." He grabbed me and started pulling me back down the vent. He'd already replaced the tape, no one would be the wiser to our visit - I hoped. "We'll need to personally monitor the computer tests, we can spell each other. Come on."

[See Chapter Twenty]