• Summary: A devastating blow to the SG-1 leaves Jack guilt-ridden.
• Ratings: G [D][A]

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PROLOGUE

"Which one would fit our requirements best?"

The spirit-exploration had been successful and now the two scientists regarded their test subjects, as they lay dormant before them.

"I would exclude the dark one. This symbiotic organism inside him has compromised his body. He will not give us any reliable base-line data for this species."

"I agree. Should we test the female? If I remember correctly from our reference material it is believed that females show emotion more openly than the males."

"That might be, but she has family bonds; therefore she will be supported. Her father and sibling will be at her side to comfort her and I don't want such interference."

"But they all have bonds. It is a social species!"

"You must agree, though, the relationships these two other males have are either less intense or presently severed. The only exception seems to be their link to each other. None of their other relationships comes close to its high level of affinity. Fortunately this connection will be lost in our experimental setting."

"So one of these males will be our subject then, but which one? The younger or the older?"

"I am not certain. We have to assess what will be our best option by reviewing what we have learned about their past experiences. They have both suffered losses before..."

"What was their emotional reaction to that?"

"Their perception of the situation was fairly the same and eventually both had to find a new way to justify their lives.

"The older one did react more violently; planned his own death, but I don't know if we should take this particular fact into account. The situation was unique due to the fact he lost his offspring, which for this species is probably one of the most traumatic experiences possible. Our environmental outline is different, and furthermore, it would corrupt our results if we presume behaviour on the basis of an old data set."

" No, I think the key may be in how others relate to them."

"I do not understand..."

"As we've summarised all four are closely bonded. Yet if we look at the bonding towards these two males, there is a significant difference. It is less obvious with the dark male. He is highly protective of both, but the female mostly pays heed to the younger male."

"Why, is the bond stronger with the younger one?"

Ba'el hesitated. "No, I don't think it is. I think the female believes that the younger needs it more than the older."

"Is this true?"

Ba'el let out a soft sigh as he looked at his apprentice. "What have we learned so far? They are a social species. The need for bonding is strong in all of them. Haven't you been paying attention?"

"Sorry, yes I have. Why does the female reach that conclusion then? Did he indicate this to her?"

"Very good! That is exactly what might be our key towards choosing our subject. The young one shows his need for bonding where the older one averts it. We can assume this behaviour extends towards most of their social contacts."

"Not all though, they are both protg's of other humans."

"Yes, but I feel that the older one will not accept help as readily. The younger one will try."

"That settles it then?"

"Yes. You can tag the older one and set up the experiment. The others cannot contaminate our environment. Will you dispose of them, please?"

"I will proceed immediately."

"Ta'lesh?"

"Yes?"

"Good observation."

"Thank you Ba'el."

He smiled as he saw the young scientist's excitement, but then, even he could not deny his elation over this unexpected opportunity.

o
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GUILT
by BabsN.
o
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CHAPTER ONE

"Incoming wormhole!"

The sirens were blaring and the gate activated, rumbling as a wormhole established itself behind the ominous iris. Quickly, General Hammond made his way down from his office to the control room. None of his teams were due back, which in this facility unfortunately spelled trouble.

As he looked over Sergeant Harriman's shoulder SG-1's code appeared on the screen.

"Open the iris."

With a slicing sound the iris fell back and a split second later a figure fell through and crumbled onto the ramp.

As he rose onto his hands and knees the general recognized Colonel Jack O'Neill.

"Damn Jack! Too close for comfort," he thought angrily.

His anger instantly turned to fear as he saw Jack's expression. He'd seen the colonel in many forms of distress, but this was frighteningly new. His expression was one of sheer horror.

He ran down the stairs to the gate room and just arrived to see Jack stagger towards the end of the ramp.

The gate room crew hadn't yet moved from its defensive position. Everyone seemed mesmerized by the dramatic entrance.

"As you were!" he hollered before turning his attention to Jack. He saw the colonel's knees buckle and was just in time to catch him in his fall. Gently easing him down, Hammond sat on the edge of the ramp holding the leader of his first team. He heard someone call for a medical team and then focused all his attention on the man lying on the base of the ramp. Trying to find out what the hell was wrong.

O'Neill was shivering violently and seemed hardly aware of his surroundings.

"Jack. Hey, Jack. Come on, Jack," he coaxed as he gently moved Jack's head to face him.

It seemed to help a little as he felt muscles relaxing slightly beneath his hand. The colonel blearily squinted up at him.

"Jack. Are you with me, son?"

A small nod was engulfed by another shiver through the man's body.

"Jack, what happened? Where is your team?"

"Dead." It came out more a gasp than a word. Jack's eyes grew wild as he started to sob. "They're dead. They're dead."

The repetition of words turned into gasps for air, growing faster and more labored with every breath.

Doctor Fraiser appeared next to him, her competent hands wasting no time and already checking the colonel's pulse.

"His heart's racing, Sir."

"Colonel? COLONEL!" She grabbed his face trying to get his attention, but he was fully occupied with pulling oxygen into his lungs.

"He is in shock and hyperventilating. Get him on the gurney STAT!"

Two orderlies lifted Jack from the general's arms onto the gurney and made for the infirmary.

Professionally, Doctor Fraiser took command of the situation. She turned to face her CO.

"Sir! Do you have any information for me about what happened?"

"He claimed his team is dead, nothing more," he blurted out.

She grew a few shades paler but held her composure.

"With all due respect."

"Go, go," he cut her off.

He watched her run after the gurney. What the hell had just happened here???

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CHAPTER TWO

General Hammond paced through the office of good Major Dr. Fraiser. He'd been doing the same in the corridors of the infirmary, but the constant stream of startled salutes was getting on his nerves, as much as he was probably getting on the nerves of the infirmary staff.

What the hell had happened on that planet? He didn't want to think about three lives lost until he knew the facts. It had not been the first time they had considered SG-1 lost so he wasn't giving up on them just yet.

But Jack had him worried. He still couldn't get his mind around what had happened in the gate room. There did not seem to be any injuries to explain the state Colonel O'Neill was in, and his reaction had been uncharacteristic to say the least.

Even when Dr. Jackson had been believed lost Jack had kept his feelings to himself. Now he was hyperventilating, losing it completely. What had happened on that planet that was so terrible it could send a hard-ass soldier like Jack over the brink?

Behind him the door opened and Dr. Fraiser stepped in wearily, pulling the rubber gloves from her hands. She straightened up as she spotted him.

"At ease, Dr. Sit down. What can you tell me about O'Neill's condition."

She flopped down unceremoniously behind her desk as he sat down in front of it.

"Frankly sir, I can't tell you much. When we got him in he was highly agitated. I had to knock him out with an Ativan Haldol combination. After he lost consciousness the hyperventilation ceased and his pulse went back to normal. We did a full medical but excluding the blood work, which isn't in yet, we found nothing out of the ordinary."

"Does this tell us anything?"

She shook her head sadly. "With the results I have now I can only think his symptoms are an emotional reaction."

"The colonel isn't scared easily, doctor."

"I know." She sighed deeply. "I hate to think what he saw."

"Unfortunately I am not in a position to disregard that matter."

Hammond got up and was heading for the door when he realised his last remark had been unfair to his CMO.

"Thank you, Doctor Fraiser. If there is any development I would appreciate being notified immediately."

"Of course, Sir."

"Good luck, doctor."

o
^

Daniel shifted into a more comfortable position, enjoying the warm soft bed. He loved to doze a bit before he truly woke up: savouring the warmth of his bed and dreaming of happier times.

Today he imagined they were back on P38-784.

He was lying in his sleeping bag. To his left he could just make out the silhouette of Teal'c keeping watch. They were camping right in the middle of the Celtic ruins he was studying. Even Jack was having a good time. The Colonel had been bored out of his mind until he had found a river where he could fish and actually catch something. It hadn't seemed to be bothering him that he only had a line and no pole, because they had been eating the trout-like fish for three days now.

Now he was lying on his back half-asleep, but still admiring the local form of the aurora borealis, which was keeping Sam jumping up and down with excitement most of the night. He felt truly content here, doing his thing, his friends around him enjoying doing theirs.

When he slumbered in the early morning hours his mind often went back to that particular planet.

Unfortunately, Jack's sleeping rhythm was the opposite of Daniel's. At the base and on missions he'd drag Daniel from his studies at night, preaching the advantages of a Good-Night's-Sleep, which left Daniel tossing and turning in his bunk, contemplating his research and not catching a wink of sleep until early morning. Then Jack would be back to wake him up long before Daniel thought it should be legal, preaching the advantages of an Early Start.

But thankfully not today.

Why not?

Opening his eyes, he blinked at an unfamiliar grey ceiling. He didn't remember falling asleep here... As he turned his head he saw Teal'c lying on a similar bunk along the adjacent wall. Even when he slept, the guy managed to look stately. At least Sam looked normal. Well, normal by being curled up on her side and having her hair sticking out in a weird fashion. Between them, a large dark glassy surface served as a wall.

Daniel sat up, but found no one else occupying the room. He felt a wave of panic surge through him. What the hell had happened?

As he slipped out of bed he realised he was still fully clothed. Even his boots were still on.

He approached Teal'c and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. The man's eyes flew open as if he'd been waiting for the touch.

"Daniel Jackson."

"Are you okay, Teal'c?"

"I am fine. Are you all okay?"

"Well, Jack's not here and I still have to check on Sam."

Sam woke with a little shake of the shoulder.

"Huh?"

"Sam. Jack's missing."

By the time Sam sat up, fully awake, Daniel was already caught up in his own thoughts.

"Teal'c, what do you remember happening?"

"My memory of the events does not seem to be fully adequate, Daniel Jackson. I believe we were retreating back to the gate when an orange glow immersed us. I was unable to move. I can recall nothing more until you awakened me."

"I remember feeling as if being frozen, too," Daniel agreed, "And then Jack turned around, and then nothing."

Sam rubbed the back of her head. "Pretty much the same here."

"So where is Jack?"

Sam seemed to consider this when suddenly her head snapped up.

"Wait a minute! Did you just say the Colonel turned around?"

"Yes, he looked at me and after that I just woke up here."

"If he could move to turn around, maybe he was beyond the reach of whatever grabbed us! So the reason he's not here with us is because he managed to escape!"

"You think so, Sam?"

"Well, I don't see him here and this is a good explanation. For all we know he might have made it back home and could be returning with reinforcements any moment now."

"Your observations are only partly correct, human. He made it through the gate, but will not return." Sam spun around as the glassy wall cleared to reveal the speaker. His features were almost human, but not quite. Every limb seemed to be stretched, appearing far too thin. He had no ears or hair, and his skin had a faint blue undertone to it. His eyes were just a little too big to make his face look normal.

She quickly composed herself. "Why? Did you disable the gate?"

"Yeah, and while we're at it, why have you taken us captive?" piped in Daniel, feeling less than diplomatic at the moment.

The alien smiled, seemingly pleased. "My, you are truly an inquisitive species. Good! Yes, the gate is currently closed to outside activation, but that is only a precaution. Your companion will not try to return, anyway. You will be released when our experiment is done."

"What! You have no right to use us as lab rats. And if you think Jack will leave us here.."

"Daniel! Shut up!" Sam's low voice warned him not to give away any strategic advantage they might have.

A sort of chuckle ran through the aliens' body. "Oh no, don't worry, humans. You are not our test subjects, your companion Jack is."

The statement stunned them all. "What?" Daniel breathed.

"We are scientists and are studying the different emotional behaviours of several species. As your species is so highly developed, we chose to research grief, something many lower life forms do not even seem capable of. Your companion Jack thinks you have died. We will monitor him for fifteen of your days and then you will be free to go back to your home-planet. He wouldn't have much to grieve over if you were just walking about there, now would he?" Again the alien chuckled. Apparently he found this last remark very amusing.

Sam looked at him, appalled. Behind her Daniel had turned an ashen grey. "Oh God, not again," he moaned. Teal'c just stood silently, but his eyes blazed like fire.

The alien seemed to take pity on them. "Maybe you do not even have to stay that long. If the experiment ends early, you will be released too."

Sam snapped back into action. "What do you mean? How could it end sooner?"

"Well, if the test subject finds his predicament unliveable we will get no more new data and I don't see what would be the advantage of keeping you here. I'd say then you'd be free to go."

"You mean suicide?" Sam gasped.

"No!" Daniel stated. "I know Jack. He would never do such a thing. Not now."

"What makes you so sure of this, human? We know he has tried before."

"Those were different circumstances. That was an altogether different Jack O'Neill. Jack would never kill himself now. He is not the type for it, not anymore."

"I hope you are right, human. I personally prefer a full data set to a terminated one. However, it is hard to say how he will react now. In order to get good results in limited time we had to enhance his emotional activity. He might react much more strongly to stimuli than he used to. That is not a problem though, because his reaction will still be typical for humans and that is what we are looking for."

"You can't do that! How can you do that? What kind of animal are you?!" Daniel was furious. Why Jack? He had gone through enough in his life already and now some alien Dr. Frankenstein was playing with his mind again.

The alien did not seem to take the last question as an insult and answered. "I am Ba'el, the lead scientist of this facility, and you have not encountered my race before. I understand you find this situation distressing, but it is necessary for our research. I suggest you try to relax; you will be back with your own kind before you know it."

And then the glass blurred and darkened.

"You bastard!" Daniel yelled. He kicked the glass wall hard before limping back to his bed. Sam sat down next to him while Teal'c took up position before them.

In this close circle they sat in silence, trying to digest what they had learned about their CO's fate.

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CHAPTER THREE

"Dr. Fraiser. Colonel O'Neill is waking up. He is incoherent and combative."

Janet was already running into her patient's room. The scene unfolding before her had a macabre touch to it. Under the hands of four orderlies, the colonel lay in bed, yellow-ish pale, a sheen of sweat making his skin glisten. His eyes were tightly shut as he was silently struggling against the hands that held him down; an already loose IV line a telltale sign of the need to restrain him.

Janet quickly made her way to the head of the bed. "Colonel O'Neill! Jack, it's Janet. Please stop fighting." She gently stroked his hair, hoping the gesture would help him realise he was being cared for. When he finally relaxed she waved the others away.

"That's it, Colonel. You are safe here. I know you hate the infirmary, but there is no reason to start a fight, okay?"

His eyes opened to mere slits, trying to focus on her face. "Doc?" His voice squeaked slightly.

Janet filled a cup from the cooler on his nightstand and offered him a sip of water. "Here, colonel, drink a little of this."

She steadied his head with her free hand and with the other held the cup to his lips. He drank a little before sinking back heavily into the pillows, his eyes closing. He seemed to doze off and Janet dismissed her staff with a small nod. As she looked back a small wrinkle on his forehead developed into a frown. His eyes opened again and he seemed to scan the room.

"My team okay?"

Her silence made his eyes grow wide with distress. "Oh, God. Are they hurt?" He started to sit up.

"Colonel, we don't know where they are." She raised the head of his bed to help him steady himself.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

She lay a comforting hand on his arm, trying to give him something to hang on to. "We were hoping you could tell us." She squeezed his arm. "You came back through the gate alone. You were... confused, and we had to sedate you."

His face contorted as he tried to remember.

"Do you remember anything?"

He looked at her with a lost expression. Then suddenly his eyes widened. Panic, anger and grief crossed his face.

He bent over and puked his guts out all over his blankets.

Janet hadn't seen it coming and in a reflex snapped her arm out of the way. Then all she could do was rub his back as he was still retching. "Shhhh, it's okay."

When the spasms finally subsided she helped him lean back into the cushions.

He looked exhausted. His eyes closed, he didn't even make the effort to wipe off the vomit still clinging to his mouth.

Janet quickly stripped off the soiled blankets, which fortunately seemed to have shielded the colonel from his own assault. Then she wet some paper towels and cleaned his face. The empty bed next to his was the easiest provider of clean linen, which helped her get him comfortable in a matter of minutes.

All the while he just lay with his eyes closed, making no objections at all.

"Jack?" She took his hand in hers. "Please. Can you tell me what you remember?"

His eyes stayed closed but then he spoke softly. "We had gated into a sort of building or structure and were exploring it. It was extremely dull so far. We didn't find anything of interest, any signs of inhabitants. Even Daniel was bored.

"Then all of a sudden we were hit by some kind of force field. When we came to, sirens were blaring. Then I saw the walls of the corridor we were heading for glittering. Lightning struck the walls and the floor..."

The crackling energy scared Jack out of his wits.

"Let's head for the gate, kids!"

He took point, scanning for any sign that might give away the next hit, but the electricity seemed to discharge randomly around them in the corridors they passed.

They had just rounded the last corner when he heard the crackling right behind him, raising his hair on end. He looked back just in time to see Sam, Daniel and Teal'c standing frozen in an orange glow, Daniel's eyes fixed on him.

The bolt of lightening knocked him flat on his back. When he looked up, dazed, the last sparkles of energy backlit the fine ashes raining down. It had an eerie beauty to it.

"Nooooo!" He scrambled back to where his team had been on his hands and knees. The dust rained down on him like the first snow of winter. It was all that was left of them.

"Colonel, COLONEL!"

"I should have seen it. I was taking lead and I missed it!"

"Oh God, Jack!"

She grabbed his head forcefully, pulling him close to her.

He reacted by sinking against her and burying his head in the crank of her neck. Then he just sobbed.

She stood next to the bed, hugging him tightly and rocking him the same way she rocked Cassie, when she had one of many nightmares about her home.

She felt his warm breath against her as he whispered the same thing over and over.

"It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault..."

Finally he seemed to settle down and she eased him back into the pillows. He turned his back to her, lying down on his side as she put the bed back down again.

"Jack, I'm going to give you something to help you sleep. It's important you get some rest."

A mumbled agreement was his only answer so she injected the sedative directly in his thigh. When she was sure he was asleep she re-established his IV and after a final check turned the lights down and stepped out of the room.

She quickly made her way to General Hammond's office to report Jack's condition.

In the elevator she leaned back against the wall, shutting her eyes to keep the tears from spilling. It grieved her to finally know what had happened to her friends.

Oh God, how could she ever break this to Cassie?

From a professional point of view, she was upset too. It worried her that Jack, even in his current state, had accepted the sedative so easily.

The next few days in the infirmary were highly uneventful. Colonel O'Neill was placed in a private room and slept through most of them. When he woke he'd do his business in the bathroom, sometimes eat a little and then ask for some more medication to help him get to sleep again.

Although it worried Janet, she gave him a few days to rest, thinking it might help him come to terms with what happened. The third day though, she ordered the nurse to call her if he asked for more medication.

He seemed asleep when she entered his room but as she touched his hand he just turned his arm to make it easy for her to inject a sedative.

"I don't think that is such a good idea anymore, Jack."

His eyes opened, and he looked up hazily. "Doc?"

"Morning, colonel. I think it is time you stayed awake a little more."

"Why?" His voice had a sharp edge to it, making the question sound not all that friendly.

"Well, physically there is nothing wrong with you, and you have had some time to rest, so there is no reason to keep you on medication."

"I can think of a few reasons," he growled.

"Then tell me, Jack. Why should we keep you sedated?"

"You don't want to know."

"You're wrong. I need to know because I am your doctor, and if you have a problem I might be able to help."

Looking at him now she could not believe this was the same man who had appeared semiconscious not a minute ago.

He radiated anger. "How the hell could you possibly help, huh? Prozac me all the way to happy-land? Well, Doc! I've got news for you. I ain't planning to go anywhere."

Janet spoke cautiously. "First of all, I wasn't planning anything before we had a talk and you should know by now I wouldn't do something like that without telling you. Secondly, I don't have a magic pill to work out your problems. What I do have is the possibility to help you. We talk, you tell me what you want, and I see how I can help you with it."

"Well, what I want is to go back to sleep, and I know for a fact you do have a magic pill to solve that problem!"

"For how long, Jack? I can't keep you sedated indefinitely. I don't want to, either. I know it hurts, but you have to pick up your life again."

"Why? Can you give me one good reason why I should get my life back on track?" Sarcasm dripped through every word. "My wife? Oh, no she left me. My son? Oh, no, he's dead." His voice broke, but he continued. "Maybe my team. Oh, killed them too. Maybe I should talk to Daniel. No..."

His head turned, but she could still see the tears rolling down his cheeks. "Oh, Jack. You aren't responsible for any of their deaths. You know that."

He turned back to her. "News flash! I am the team commander. I am responsible."

"Yes, but only to do your best. You did, Jack. I don't believe anyone could have done more."

"I could have stayed with them. That would have solved a lot of problems for everybody."

"I hope you don't mean that. What about the people who are here? What about Cassie? She will already have to deal with losing three members of her family. You think she would be happy to lose one more?"

"She might when she figures out who's responsible. I killed Sam, for God's sake!"

"No, you didn't! And Cass loves you. She needs you to help her deal with this. Maybe she will help you, too."

"The last thing Cassie needs right now is me in her face. I am responsible. I should have kept my team safe, and I didn't." He turned his back to her as he lay on his side.

This wasn't going anywhere. She started to pull the blankets over him, but with an annoyed gesture he snatched them from her and tucked them around his shoulder.

"I know you don't believe me, but you will get through this. And maybe you don't remember it right now, but there are still a lot of people who care about you. Think about them, okay?"

There was no reply so she left him to himself. He probably needed some time to straighten things out, and she was going to give him all the time he needed.

o

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CHAPTER FOUR

The days in their new surroundings turned out to be profoundly boring. Three times a day a warm meal would materialise in the middle of the room. They all tasted the same and Sam had concluded the aliens probably duplicated the food in their packs.

And of course they had been carrying MRE's.

Great.

Just smashing.

The room they where kept in was functional and nothing else. A small alcove served as a funky '70s style designer bathroom, and there was no way out.

There was a console on side of the room and for three days now, Sam had been keeping herself occupied with trying to get the thing to work. She figured it was an intricate combination lock.

Surrounding the round centrepiece of the lock were little windows. By pushing the symbols in central part in a certain combination she was able to get seven windows to light up.

There were twenty.

Great.

Wonderful.

Teal'c was, as always, calm, serene and by now annoying the crap out of Daniel. At least Sam had the courtesy to be just as snappy as he. When she got fed up with the console, he would have a go at it. Within a minute she would be standing behind him, commenting on what he did and what he should do instead. Usually he'd end up telling her to do it herself and then she did.

This left him with either watching her, watching Teal'c practice his Kel'Noreem or thinking to himself.

He knew he wasn't at his best behaviour, but this forced inactivity was driving him nuts. He couldn't help but play every scenario he could think for Jack's predicament out in his mind.

They didn't all end happily.

God, he hated being cooped up here when he knew Jack probably needed him. If only he could find a way to get a message to him. Any message would do; he only needed to prove they where alive.

The last time he had been in a similar situation, he hadn't thought of his friends' reactions that much. He had spent all his energy trying to remember this Omaroca and getting out of his underwater prison. When Nem had told him his friends believed he was dead, his only conclusion had been that he'd have to find his own way out.

Only after he had returned home, had he started to realise what his disappearance had done to his friends. When Sam told him Jack smashed the window of General Hammond's car, he thought she was pulling his leg. But then more people confirmed her story. Then, finally, one evening, he had purposely got Jack drunk and they had had a real good conversation. It had left Jack with a headache and Daniel realising he was more to this team than the geeky scientist he assumed they took him for. >From then on he had started to feel at home with his team, and now for the first time in many years he was comfortable with who he was, no longer feeling the need to apologise. Thanks to Sam, Teal'c and Jack.

And now Jack was thinking his whole team had died and some alien gizmo was making him feel even worse.

Daniel was sitting on his butt, reciting ancient texts to keep from flying up the walls...

"He-llo!?" Sam exclaimed.

Both Daniel and Teal'c quickly got up to join Sam at the console. So Teal'c wasn't doing his Kel'Noreem thing after all, more probably avoiding a genuinely annoying Dr. Jackson.

"I think I got something. You see the pattern of the first button I pushed? Well, if I take the lower left quarter of it and turn it 90 degrees, it ends up being the upper quadrant of the second button. I can't believe I didn't see this before." Sam pushed the seven buttons she already knew and started to search for the next. When the eight light lit up without hesitation Daniel quickly retrieved his boots from under his bed and began putting them on. >From the corner of his eye he saw Teal'c retrieve a pole he had managed to pull loose the bed. He had tried to break the glass with it earlier and failed. But now they might be getting out of here a lot sooner, getting back to help Jack.

Daniel waited in anticipation as Sam pushed the final button.

"This is it."

The last light lit up and the console made a whining electrical noise as if a machine was starting up. The inner part started to rotate, and they all leapt back as it suddenly fell off.

Nothing happened.

The glass wall didn't even shimmer. Maybe it would take a few seconds to work..

"What the hell is this?" Sam's voice shrieked with surprise.

Teal'c and Daniel looked back at the console. Where the buttons had been was now a small, open box.

"Uhhh, that would be mine, I guess," Daniel said, blushing, as he quickly snatched the packet of Oreo's out of his friend's sight.

Sam looked ready to kill someone when the glass wall suddenly did shimmer to reveal their captor..

Ba'el appeared to be pretty happy with himself. "Well done, Major Sam! You have solved my puzzle."

"What puzzle..." Sam's voice sounded dangerously low.

"As you are such a highly developed species I thought it might be necessary not only to nourish your body but also your mind. Escape seemed to be your most probable wish. I disguised my little puzzle as a transportation console so it would stimulate you to try and solve it." He chuckled.

"Of course we can not grant you your wish but I found these, and thought they might make for a nice replacement."

"You're saying this was only to entertain us?!"

"Of course. Did it not work wonderfully, Major Sam?. You were occupied with it most of your time. We say: when the mind runs, time leaps. Isn't that a true thought?" He smiled invitingly. "I have many more, would you like me to install a new one?"

"NO!" the answer left the team's lips simultaneously.

Ba'el seemed a bit disappointed but quickly pulled himself together.

"I guess it would not entertain you as much as it did now; you realise it will not be your means of escape. Oh well, enjoy your snack." With that the glass once again darkened, leaving them to themselves.

"That sneaky son of a... I can't believe I worked on that thing for three days." Sam kicked the wall, then her bed, and finally Daniel's bed. Daniel had retreated to it and was doing his best to blend into the scenery.

"Daniel?"

"Yes?" He was dreading what was coming next.

"Why are you taking Oreo's with you on a mission?"

He blushed and avoided her gaze as he muttered, "It's all Cassie's fault. Every time I visit she insists on us sharing a packet. Now I'm hooked on the stupid cookies. Please don't ask more..." he could feel the heat of his face travelling down his neck.

Sam giggled and even Teal'c looked slightly amused. This was so embarrassing.

"Okay, okay," Sam said, patting him amicably on the back. "I'll leave it at this, so hand them over."

"Why?"

"I worked two days on that damn cookie-jar so I'm going to at least enjoy the contents."

"But they're mine."

"I did all the work."

"That doesn't make them yours all of a sudden!"

"Oh, I think it does."

At that moment Teal'c stepped in between them. "I believe this kind of packaging of Oreo's contains six cookies. I feel we should share them equally."

They both looked up in surprise at their giant alien friend.

"How do you know?" Daniel opted.

"I believe we should share them equally." The words were stressed individually; clearly stating he didn't wish to discuss the business any further.

Sam gave him a mischievous grin and Daniel chuckled; nobody in his right mind would dare stand between the Jaffa and his share of Oreo's.

They sat down together and ate in silence. o
/\
CHAPTER FIVE

I'm out!
Thank God.
Don't wanna go back there.
I hate that infirmary.
Janet will be furious. Have to get out of sight or she'll find me, put me back in there. They all know me here. Got to get to of these halls.

Why the hell did I wind up here?
Well, as good a place as any. Not like I'm gonna disturb Daniel. Oh god...
Okay. I'll just turn the desk lamp on, not to alert anyone with lots of light shining beneath the door. I know this won't be seen. Daniel knew too. Tried to trick me into thinking he wasn't pulling a late night. Might even have succeeded once or twice.

God, he must have been working here, just before we left. I always rummage through his rock-collection. It looks like Danny could walk in and in that half mocking way ask me to put that ARTEFACT back, leave that ARTEFACT as it was. Better even to not touch the ARTEFACTS at all anymore.

It looks like he could walk in any moment...

You scientific geek! Even when dead, you just have to leave your rocks in neat little rows. Daniel could be sooo annoying.

No, that's not fair. I am the jerk. Daniel was fine; he was the good guy. He is the closest to a friend I have.
Had.

Daniel...

Dr. Daniel Jackson.

Killed in action.

I've had enough. I can't go through that again. Not now, not alone.

When Charlie... OH GOD, CHARLIE...

At least then there was Sara. I didn't go to her, nor did I let her near, but she was there. Now I'm alone. I killed them, all of them... my team, Frank Cromwell, Kawalsky, even my own son. Why wasn't I more careful? I should have seen the danger!

I can still see Daniel looking at me for an answer, just before he burned to ashes.

OH GOD, oh God. What have I done? I killed them! I should have seen it! I should have been hit by it. Why didn't it kill me? I was in front of them. It should have been me! That's my job! I protect THEM! They do the rest.

But I didn't.
I didn't.
I didn't.
I failed them.

I left them to die.
They got zapped to death and I just watched. Watched and then returned home safely.

Goddamn coward! I ran like a dog.

And now e-ver-y-body is sorry for the poor colonel. And it wasn't my fault, and I did what I could...

Like hell I didn't! I left my team.
I left my friends. I left them to die... I left Daniel and ran.

And it's not like I've got anything left.

After that teary job I pulled on Fraiser I'll be lucky if they give me a desk job here. I'll probably get dragged out of here so fast... They're probably scraping my name off my locker, right now. Or maybe they give me another team, so I can fail them and kill them.

No, it's done.
I'm done. I'm not killing anyone else off. I'm paying the bill. No one can say O'Neill doesn't take his responsibility.

It has got to end.
It has got to end now.

Damn.
I always let Carter do this, because she's better at it. It's not much, but this stuff always puts me to sleep in no time. A full syringe should top me off nicely.

Better this way, come to think of it.
Nothing messy to find. No one forced to cut you down or clean your blood off the walls. Not like Charlie.

Enough.
Ouch.
Never could give a decent shot. Serves me right. I deserve more pain than a little prick. But it doesn't matter now.

Let's put the ampoule and the syringe on the desk. Nicely aligned with those nice little rows of shards. Janet won't have to search; I'll save her the trouble.

Wow...
Okay, okay, this stuff works fast. Don't want to fall down. Don't want to fall on the desk and upset those nice little rows Daniel made.

Couch...
That's better.
Fall on couch; that's okay.
Okay.

So tired. Just wanna curl up and die.
Hah.
Final pun. Had to get that in, didn't you...

This is fine. No one hurt by me...
Safe... now..
they...
sorry...
couldn't...

Daniel...

o
/\

"Dammit, Janet" She could just hit herself for giving him the opportunity to leave the infirmary in the state he was in. A call to the surface had told her he hadn't left the complex. That was something at least, but then where the hell had he gone to? She had already checked his quarters, his office, the showers, the commissary, and the gym without any luck. She didn't like it. He had shown all the signs of a nervous breakdown and she had left him to himself, thinking the old colonel would like some privacy to grieve.

But he wasn't an old colonel, now was he? He had been panicking, screaming at her, demonstrating his grief openly. His actions had almost been completely opposite to his way of dealing with grief in the past. He had always held it in. When they thought they had lost Daniel on that planet with the fish guy, his silence about his grief had been eerie. It had surfaced only once, costing General Hammond a car window.

That rage was present now.

Her stomach clamped up as she thought what could happen if he turned that rage on himself.

A new idea entered her thoughts.
Daniel! Against all odds he had become the colonel's closest friend.

She pushed the elevator-button and paced the tiny cabin. As the doors opened she rushed out, dodging some people as she made her way to Daniel's office.

The door was closed, but as she turned the handle, she found it wasn't locked.

A desk lamp provided the sole lighting in the room.

Relief ran through Janet as she saw Jack asleep on the grubby couch Daniel somehow had got into his office. His head was resting on the arm stand, an arm tucked beneath it, his legs relaxed, slumped over the front of the couch.

As Janet crossed the room to check on him, the objects on Daniel's desk caught her eye. Some shards of pottery lay in the neat rows their researcher had left them in. Next to them a syringe and ampoule sparkled in the dim light.

She was with him in an instant, checking for a pulse and his breathing. Both were slow, but not alarmingly so. His pupils still reacted within safe range.

"Colonel!" Tugging him upright, she slapped him in the face, first softly, then harder.

His head limply rolled with the blows.

The best thing would be to wake him up, so she grabbed his shoulder and squeezed the nerve knot mercilessly. A soft grunt was her reward. She slapped his face hard. "Colonel! I order you to wake up, now! You hear me?"

After all, he lived and breathed Air Force. Some military bullying might do the trick.

Some more slapping, ordering and downright threats gave her the result she needed. His eyelids moved slightly before they opened. He blinked lazily before his eyes focused on her.

"Colonel, are you with me?"

She gave him a rough shake as his eyes threatened to close again. "No! You stay awake now!" Her hand held his chin until she was sure he was really attentive. "Now wait one minute. I will be right back. You're with me?" A slight nod was enough to make her pretty sure he wouldn't slip back into unconsciousness. Holding one arm still near him, in case he needed help, she snatched the ampoule from the desk and eyed it.

It was Benadryl. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing her relief. Thank God. Thank God he never listened to her medical explanations and thank God he hadn't suddenly started to now. They had used the Benadryl to help him sleep. In effect, all he had done was given himself the same thing as they had used to cure him from the virus they had brought back to the SGC from the Land of the Light. She would find out who the hell had left it unattended, though.

She returned to the couch again. What to do next. He was still looking quite out of it, but his breathing was deeper now. One phone call and the cavalry, her staff, would be here with a stretcher, med kits and a whole lot of commotion. He hated that and she did not feel the need to put embarrassment on his already overflowing list of emotional problems. Anyway, circulation would help his system getting rid of some of the medication.

"Colonel? We have to get back to the infirmary. I want you to pull yourself up and lean on me."

He looked at her blearily, still not fully awake. But he took her hands and complied with her request.

She almost collapsed under his weight. Holding him by his belt and pulling his arm tightly around her neck, she started for the door.

"Now, colonel. We're going get you back to the infirmary. Ok?"

No answer came but with every step he seemed to stumble along in the right direction.

"I need to get his CBC, stat!" Janet hollered as she eased him down on his bed. A syringe was handed to her. She took a blood sample from a vein in his arm and handed it back to the waiting nurse.

Through it all, Jack stared at the wall behind her.

"Now then, Jack. I'm going to help you lie down. Is that ok?"

The mention of his name finally seemed to get through to him. He looked down on her, and a faint glitter of warmth lighted his eyes before it was extinguished. He didn't help or fight her as she put one arm beneath his shoulder and one under his knees, and skilfully eased him back onto the bed.

She pulled the covers over him and stroked his grey hair. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, not wanting to look him in the eye now. "Bring me some restraints."

Her staff was trained enough not to question but act. Within a minute someone handed her the restraints. She didn't even notice whom.

"I'm so sorry, Jack, but I have to put these on you."

He nodded ever so slightly before fixing his gaze onto the ceiling. His arms and legs didn't resist her hands as she closed them into the soft bands. She placed the sensors of the heart monitor beneath his shirt. She finally dared to look at his face.

His eyes were still gazing at the ceiling, but a silent tear ran down his face.

She rubbed it off, gently stroking his cheek. This was the moment to console him, make him feel better, but what was there to say? Their mutual friends had died, and with them the colonel seemed to be slipping away, too, essentially becoming the fourth casualty. His devotion to his team had always been clear to her. He had spent many more hours in her hated infirmary than necessary for himself, most of the time waiting for Daniel to wake up. His team had repaid him with the same strong feelings of friendship. Now the chairs, standing by the walls, were painfully empty.

"Try to get some sleep, eh?" she whispered as she stroked his hair once more.

Janet was already near the door when he spoke her name.

"Why didn't you just let me go..?" There was no accusation in his tone, no wrath. Just the question.

Tears ran down her cheeks. She had lost her friends, Cassie's second family, and she didn't know how to help the last survivor.

So this was how it felt when your broke your heart.

She left the room in silence, unable to look back.

o
/\

CHAPTER SIX

The glass wall shimmered, giving them a few seconds to compose themselves before their captor peered in.

Ba'el looked puzzled, but this time his oversized eyes did not seem to be the only cause. "Something peculiar has happened with your companion Jack. Because you are such intelligent creatures, I thought you might be able to help me find an explanation."

"What happened? Is he alright?" Sam asked.

"No, he is still under the influence of our implant. But he is alive, and that is beyond my expectations."

Daniel saw Teal'c stand up and to his left Sam was hugging herself. He just sat frozen as cold spread all over his skin.

"We saw an increase in his anxiety up to a point we thought was incompatible with his drive to live. As we predicted, he suddenly relaxed, which seemed a sure indication of his impending suicide. We were waiting for the signal to be lost, but it lingered and has been like that for more than twelve hours. His anxiety level is fluctuating, but once again it seems to remain at a manageable level."

Daniel turned and pressed the palms of his hands deep into the mattress of his bed, concentrating to keep his breathing level. He needed to digest the news out of the alien's sight. Oh God, Jack had tried to kill himself and had failed. The relief at his failure was not enough to negate the shock of Jack's attempt.

"Someone must have found him in time," Sam whispered to no one in particular.

Ba'el gasped in surprise "You mean someone actually kept him from dying?"

"Yes." Daniel said in an angry low voice. "He's a good man. He's got friends. Of course they will stop him."

"Why would you deny a friend the right to end his life? That is a strange kind of selfishness." Ba'el mused.

Again Daniel felt a fury building up from deep inside of him. "You have some nerve saying that. If whoever stopped him hadn't done so, you would have been the one that killed him! Do you even realise how much you're making Jack suffer?"

Ba'el sighed before answering. "Yes, and we find it is truly unfortunate, but his ordeal will help us to learn so much more about your kind. We even might be able to extrapolate the results to other species. His suffering is unfortunate but necessary. How else could we make any progress in our understanding of the social capacities of your species?" He gave them a friendly smile. "Don't worry. We will carefully record his behaviour so we will need as few test subjects as possible."

Daniel spun around, facing the calm scientist. "I don't care! You are using Jack as a test subject now!"

Again Ba'el smiled, as one would smile at a sulking toddler. "I understand you care about your friend, but he was the best candidate out of your group and his tests will be very important for your race. You are intelligent. Maybe one day we will work together, our people helping yours, your people maybe even helping mine. But before that can happen we must learn how your minds work." He cocked his head. "You ARE very important. Our Science counsel has designated this planet as our research area. Unfortunately it does have a wide variety of life but no primates at all. This was the limiting factor for our eventual research outcome. You can imagine how extremely pleased we were with your arrival through the portal."

Daniel was fuming. "You are such a degenerate bastard! The way you treat Jack and probably all those poor creatures is sickening. I hope some day you'll get what is coming to you!"

Finally, an insult that hit home. Ba'el's eyes squinted to almost normal size and in an angry tone of voice he continued. "Do you kill? Eat the meat of other species? Do your scientist not kill for their research? Suffering is inevitable. Death is the end of all beings. It is part of the living system and we cannot avoid it. The only difference between us and the predator that kills his prey is our self-imposed morality. Must we fight our own build? We can choose not to eat meat. Then we kill plants to eat. We can choose not to eat plants. Then we kill their seeds that could grow to life.

"We are developed to live off the living. We cannot live on inorganic material alone. We could not have risen to be a creature with ours or your level of intelligence had we not killed to stay alive.

"Now we are seeking knowledge. Is that worse? If I need to kill one to understand his species? One day we might save your species with the knowledge we collect now. How can we save without sacrificing some lives?

"And even when science succeeds: Does not every cure kill a disease? Death and suffering are as much a part of us all as life itself."

Daniel made it to the glass wall in no time at all. What he needed was to give this alien a nice black eye.

Though for now, giving Ba'el a piece of his mind, face to face, would have to do.

"Yes, we cause suffering and kill to live, but at least we don't hide behind our intelligence as an excuse to hurt or kill for any reason.

"And yes, there is a difference between a common predator and us: a predator will kill for survival. As it kills its prey it does not contemplate the suffering of its victim.

"Once a species reaches that awareness it becomes responsible for the suffering it causes. And no, that does not mean it can stop hurting others. You are right. It is impossible for us not to hurt and kill, but morality means you must weigh your deeds against the suffering they cause. If I need to kill I don't kill for pleasure or curiosity."

He felt a large protective hand on his back, but shook it off.

"You told me the goals of your research, but they sound pretty hypothetical to me. I don't think you intend to use this to 'help our people' for a long time. You were just wondering about it and without hesitation you hurt someone to satisfy your own petty interests!"

He was so angry he started tripping over his own words. "And if you think it's fair to compare the killing of a seed with the killing of a being that is self-aware you are even more dense and stupid than I thought you were."

Anger flared once more over Ba'el's face but then he relaxed. " You are very upset about your friend. I will not take this as a personal insult."

"You should!" Daniel yelled. "It's meant to be one"

"I understand your anger. Our experiment will be complete within eight of your days. I suggest you relax until then."

The glass darkened and left them to themselves.

"You understand squat." Daniel muttered, kicking an imaginary alien butt in front of him.

o

/\

McKenzie set up shop in one of the small offices near the infirmary. He wanted to see Colonel O'Neill as soon as possible, and from previous occasions he knew what the Colonel thought of psychiatry. So a meeting on base in a neutral surrounding seemed to be the best approach.

He sat behind the desk. Colonel O'Neill's files lay neatly spread out before him. As he reviewed the documents he was surprised this crisis hadn't happened sooner. The colonel carried enough emotional baggage to justify a breakdown years earlier. Brutally abused for four months in an Iraqi prison camp, his son killed by his own gun. His marriage destroyed by the deep depression that followed. As if that hadn't been enough, his suicidal state of mind had been used by General West for the first mission which had been planned as a one way trip for O'Neill and that was only what had happened before the reopening of the Gate.

Every incident in his psychological reviews recorded two patterns in the way the colonel dealt with the aftermath. Firstly, he declined any help with it, especially the professional kind. Secondly, he always placed the blame for what happened on someone. More often than not, himself. O'Neill didn't believe in situations that were beyond someone's control, and he never seemed able to forgive the person he held responsible.

McKenzie looked at the files again.

His CO, who had left him for dead in Iraq, had rushed to his side after his rescue. Though still in near critical condition, O'Neill had tried to attack him. Easily restrained in his weakened state, he had cursed and screamed at the man until they had had to resort to sedating him. The same man had died during an incident at Cheyenne Mountain, but reconciliation between him and O'Neill was not mentioned in the files.

McKenzie closed the file. He feared that the colonel was projecting the same unforgiving streak on himself. Somehow a strong bond had formed between Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill on the Abydos mission and when SG1 formed it had included Major Dr Carter and the Jaffa Teal'c. After these years SG1 had become a particularly tight knit team according to Janet Fraiser. McKenzie had seen it himself when Dr. Jackson had been in his ward due to some alien device, which made him unstable and hallucinogenic. His team had been at his side the moment McKenzie had allowed it.

Now the Colonel had 'failed' to save his team and the result had been devastating. Again he had tried to take his own life. McKenzie suspected the first time it had suited the colonel fine to have the Air Force take the blame for his death. He hoped to find out what had made him take a difference approach this time. He was also interested to see what Fraiser meant by emotional vulnerability.

There was a polite rap on the door. At his call, a big orderly opened the door.

"We are bringing Colonel O'Neill, sir."

The person in question followed him.

The colonel was wearing a grey sweatshirt and matching pants. They were a distinguished mismatch with the blue hospital slippers on his feet.

His face looked drained. Swollen eyelids enclosed red veined eyes.

He shuffled after the orderly with a posture of total disinterest. The big nurse steered him gently to the seat. A slight push on the shoulder was enough to make him slump down in the comfortable office chair McKenzie had insisted on, his eyes focusing on a point far beyond the room.

"Do you need me for anything, sir?" the orderly asked crisply.

"No, thank you. If you could wait outside, please?"

The nurse saluted and turned. As he closed the door behind him, McKenzie let his attention drift to his patient. O'Neill had changed from studying the wall to studying his hands.

Tread carefully, John.

"So colonel, did you have a good night's sleep?"

Their eyes met briefly before O'Neill looked at his hands again, but it lasted long enough to convey that McKenzie was not on O'Neill's list of most liked people.

"Hard not to if they pump you full of sedatives," O'Neill muttered.

"Oh, I just heard you have been asking for them a lot, so I assumed you weren't sleeping well."

Again that look. He had just gained a few points on the least liked people list.

"Well, I never sleep well in hospitals."

"Oh, I can understand that. Only the smell is enough to keep me up all night." McKenzie chatted.

"Yeah, sure, whatever" was all he got, not even the sarcastic remark he had tried for.

So, no luring him out the nice way then.

"Colonel. We both know we're not here to discuss the bed linen of the infirmary. You suffered a tragic loss, and there was an incident in Dr. Jackson's office. I think the sooner we address this, the better.

"Do have anything you wish to start with?"

Another glare. Ten points for McKenzie!

"Not really."

"Then I suggest we start by you describing to me what happened when your team died."

The man in front of him now radiated anger. His head was down, but McKenzie could see his neck muscles tighten. His fist was clenched so hard his knuckles had gone white.

"What is there to say? They died, I didn't. It's all in the report." The words sounded extremely carefully weighed.

"Colonel. I've seen the report and I don't need a detailed account of what happened. I need to know how it made you feel."

Now the colonel's face was raised, eyes blazing at his tormentor. "How the hell do you think it made me feel?! I saw them get fried to a pile of dust, for God's sake! What would you feel, you..." He swallowed the last words.

"I've never been in such a situation, Colonel," McKenzie soothed, "but I guess I would feel horrible."

"Horrible doesn't begin to describe it," O'Neill muttered.

A long silence hung in the room as McKenzie contemplated his next move.

O'Neill had obviously lost his grip on his behaviour. McKenzie wondered how far he could push him.

"Colonel. I have studied your medical files, and frankly I'm surprised you are still on active duty. I'm sure you are a fine field officer and the reports tell me nothing else, but mentally you have been through quite a lot. If your mental history had been brought to my attention sooner I might have been able to help you prevent this breakdown. Dr. Fraiser should have intervened long ago."

"Dr. Fraiser did just fine. She s a good doctor."

"I know you like her. You are friends. Maybe that has clouded her judgement..."

"I don't like you..." The statement was a threat.

"Still, the files suggest..."

With one sweep his desk was cleared of the offending files.

"Screw the files! Screw you! You don't understand shit!!! You read your bloody reports and draw your damn conclusions without having the faintest idea what it's like out there. You have no business trying to assess me or for that matter anybody of the SGC. You are a glorified pencil pusher!"

McKenzie faced the furious man in front of him. "Maybe I am, but I'm not the one who tried to kill himself, now am I?"

"Screw you, McKenzie!"

O'Neill released his anger by kicking his chair against the door before attacking the nearest wall with his fists.

The door flung open and the orderly stormed in, followed on his heels by a very nervous-looking guard.

By now O'Neill was leaning against the wall, his head hidden in the crook of his arm, while his other fist hit in a slow hopeless rhythm.

The orderly was already making his way to O'Neill when he caught McKenzie's glance. The doctor shook his head and made a gesture ushering the orderly out of the room. The man raised an eyebrow but complied, softly shutting the door behind him.

McKenzie moved from behind his desk, a bit shaky on his legs. The colonel was a frightening man to see in a fit of rage.

The man in question still stood with his head and arm leaning against the wall, his panting the only sound in the room.

McKenzie leaned back against his desk, his arms loosely crossed. He observed the man. This man had no business being in the SGC right now. He did not need to be confronted within these surroundings, not to mention how big a liability he posed right now. He needed to be transferred to McKenzie's psychological ward at the Army hospital.

But for now he needed to help O'Neill start healing.

"Colonel. Who do you think is to blame for all this?"

He thought he hadn't been heard, but when he put his hand on O'Neill's back, the whispered answer came. "Me..."

"Okay, colonel. Then let me ask you this. If you team could be here, if Dr. Jackson were here, would he blame you for his death?"

"I don't know."

"Colonel!"

"No! No, he wouldn't."

"That's as much as Dr. Fraiser told me.

"So, who is blaming you? Not your team. Dr. Fraiser? General Hammond? The other SG-teams? I don't think they are blaming you and they are right not to do so.

"So, that only leaves yourself, doesn't it?"

O'Neill shivered, still facing the wall.

"Colonel, sometimes things are beyond your control. This was one of these occasions. You did what you could and they still died..."

McKenzie almost jumped as, suddenly the colonel's knees gave way and he slumped down the wall. It took him a moment to realise the man was crying. He was stunned to see this man sobbing freely; apparently oblivious to the fact he was not alone. He had expected the rage, but this... He could understand how this made Dr. Frailer highly concerned for her patient.

He crouched down beside him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Listen Jack. You are not the guilty party here. This is a high-risk job and your team knew that, too. They were killed by that place, not by you."

He gave a final squeeze before he retreated to his desk, giving the man some space.

It took some time, but finally the sobs receded and O'Neill sat there silently.

McKenzie stood up. He filled a cup with water and held it in the colonel's line of sight.

O'Neill looked up and accepted it. He looked even worse now. Eyes more swollen and lines of tears streaking his face as he silently sipped from his cup.

As far as McKenzie could interpret, going back to the infirmary in this state would hurt the man's pride even in his current state.

He went to the water basin and a few moments later handed O'Neill a wet towel.

"Here, Colonel. Wash your face."

"Thank you."

O'Neill vigorously rubbed his face with it. When he was done his whole face was red, which at least made him look a little less desperate.

"Do you feel ready to return to the infirmary?"

O'Neill snorted his nose noisily. "Already? We were having such a good time."

McKenzie couldn't help but chuckle. It sounded like the old O'Neill.

The man in question gave a slight smile.

"I still hate your guts..."

"I know, Colonel. Believe me or not, but I get that a lot in my line of work. I only ask that you'll allow me to help you get through this."

The smile faded and as he asked the orderly to take the colonel back to the infirmary, O'Neill's posture returned to how it had been when he had entered the room.

Still, McKenzie might be able to make some progress with the colonel.

He just needed to get him under his constant surveillance as soon as possible. This was going to be a very interesting case.

o
/\

CHAPTER SEVEN

The air in the general's office seemed heavy with tension.

The general was sitting behind his desk, McKenzie and Fraiser in front of him. Usually he would choose the briefing room for meetings, but today he felt a battle was going to be fought and he preferred to look the figurative enemy straight in the eye. He knew he wasn't going to like what was about to be said, but stalling wouldn't make it any better.

"So, today we assess what is the situation of Colonel Jack O'Neill. Dr. McKenzie, I think it would be appropriate if you gave us your report first."

McKenzie shifted in his seat, opening the leather-covered folder in front of him. "I have watched the colonel closely these last few days. Although I was not here to see the first stages of his condition, I am confident that I understand his situation by now. The colonel has, as we all know, suffered the loss of his team. Unfortunately, the bond he had with them was one of very close friendship, and this is why this incident has affected him so much.

"It is my opinion that he is right back where he was, after his son died. He is suicidal, overly emotional and not able to deal with his current situation. I think he has, well, just snapped under the weight. Since his first suicide attempt I have seen no improvement. It is my suggestion we transfer him to the psychiatric ward at our hospital and see if we can help him there."

Hammond felt the hair on the back of his neck rise at the euphemisms McKenzie used so casually to describe Jack's situation, but first he wanted to know what Janet had to say.

"Dr. Fraiser. Can we have your opinion on the matter?"

Fraiser threw McKenzie a look of disgust before she started. Thankfully he wasn't the only one who found McKenzie's detachment appalling.

"Sir. The colonel has suffered a great loss. Major Carter, Teal'c, Dr. Jackson and the colonel were very close, which I think is the only healthy response to-" There was that look for McKenzie again. "-what SG1 went through on their missions. He blames himself for their deaths and will not listen to any arguments against it. He is very frail, emotionally. I wish I could help him, but frankly, I'm at a loss."

Her head sank as she avoided Hammond's eyes. "I can't bind him to the bed indefinitely. My infirmary is not equipped for the treatment he needs."

Hammond sighed. He still felt something was wrong about the whole situation. Jack O'Neill was reacting out of character, even if he was going through a bad time. But to go against the advice of two experts was not Hammond's style of leadership. He prided himself on listening to his people, and he trusted Dr. Fraiser unconditionally. "Alright. He will be transferred to the psychiatric wing of the army hospital, but after the Memorial service, tomorrow."

McKenzie opened his mouth to protest, but a sharp look from the General made him close it again.

"Thank you, Doctors. I will see you tomorrow."

As they left his office, Janet cast him a look, which conveyed a deep sadness. At least one of Jack's physicians felt just as helpless as Hammond himself did.

o
/\

The gate engaged and stabilised into the blue shimmering surface as six servicemen carried the three American flags onto the ramp.

Although Teal'c had not been an American it was decided that for his service to this country the same honour should be bestowed on him as on Dr. Jackson and Major Carter.

The whole picture unfolding itself in the gate-room was an eerie reminder of the many services they had held here before, including the first one for Dr. Jackson.

General Hammond glanced to his left where O'Neill was standing. Going against Dr. McKenzie's recommendations, he had insisted that Jack be present. Jack might not be in the right state of mind today, but he'd never forgive himself for missing this service. So far Jack was holding up, although his tired face made it appear as if his dress-uniform was several sizes too large.

Together with Dr. Fraiser, Hammond had decided that Jack would only participate by accepting the flags, one on behalf of Jacob Carter who they still hadn't been able to contact. General Hammond would deliver a speech in his place.

As he once again commemorated those fallen under his command, he grieved for the loss of three special individuals. The silent warrior, who had betrayed his god for freedom. Jacob's little girl, who had turned out to have one of the brightest military minds he had ever encountered. The civilian scientist who had made this whole project happen and who had somehow found his place in this military facility without compromising any of his beliefs.

Later this day the last member of SG1 would be transferred out of the base to a place Hammond didn't feel held any of the answers Jack needed. His gut instinct told him something was very wrong and it wasn't just Jack breaking down. He relied on the expert opinion of his medical staff, but still couldn't shake the feeling they were missing something.

He noticed people were looking in his direction. Their faces reflected emotions ranging from sheer amazement all the way to deep compassion. As he looked around he saw Jack. Standing next to him with his chin pressed tightly against the flag in his arms Col. O'Neill shed his tears silently. Deep grief contorted his features and it made him look old. Not aged but worn as if the last ten days had taken drained his always-present life force from him, just leaving the shell behind to hurt.

The wormhole disengaged.

Hammond put an arm across Jack's shoulders. "Let's go to my office, son." As he steered the colonel out of the embarkation room they were met by many people. Some just greeted the colonel; others squeezed his arm or patted his back murmuring some compassionate words. Jack seemed oblivious to them, but Hammond wasn't. It warmed his heart.

These were the people of his command. He knew all too well how the military could be intolerant to any display of emotions. But as his first team-leader broke down in front of half the base he was only met with sympathy. It made him proud to be serving with these fine men and women.

"Well, in two hours I'll be making the trip to lala-land. That should give some reprisal."

He was leaning his head against the star mapped window staring into an empty debriefing room.

"It is not a punishment, Jack. They are going to help you through this."

"How?!"

The outburst shocked Hammond.

"What can they do? Just pull my team out of a magic hat? Get them back alive? Call the Tok'ra and ask if a sarcophagus still works if you only have some dust left put into the box? They are dead and I am to blame. My God! I might as well have put a gun to their heads!"

"No, Jack. You know that is not true! You got them out of trouble so many times, against terrible odds; we got used to it. You, me, your team. But that is not the way things work. You're only human, Jack. You can't control every situation you come across. I