Swamped
Swamped
by Zoser
Summary: Gen. O'Neill goes on a mission. Murphy's Law prevails.
Category: Action/Adventure, Angst
Episode Related: 301 Into the Fire, 606 Abyss
Season: Season 8
Pairing: Jack/Sam
Rating: 13+
Warnings: language
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
Archived on: 2004-10-01
This story was inspired by two others: PZawadzki's story `Leeway' where she puts Jack and Sam in a raft and Lyta's yet unpublished story `Jurassic Gate'. Forgive me for stealing your ideals and forming them into my own delusion.
There is some vulgar language and some minor sexual innuendo.
SWAMPED
As he sat there at his desk he felt swamped with requests for his presence at meetings, requisitions for new equipment, files and report he had to read and sign off on. He hated this job. He wanted his old life back but it wasn't going to happen. He wanted to go traipsing across the galaxy, SG-1 at his side and P-90 in his hand. Crap, he just wanted to have some fun or an adventure before they put him out to pasture. And it was lonely. Everyone wanted some of the General's time, he was lucky if he could take a leak in private but no one really wanted to spend time with the man. Well the ones who did were brown nosed sycophants that he couldn't stomach and the people he truly liked were incredibly busy. Oh yeah if he were being honest, Carter, yeah, Carter, her life was, well that was just it, wasn't it. She had a life now and it had little, if anything, to do with him and he missed her.
He had thought it all through, signed his resignation, yet again, and sent it to Hammond. Discussed it on the phone, even flew to D.C. to talk it through. Hammond would need some time to find a suitable replacement while O'Neill held it all together. Only today he was afraid it would all come flying apart at the seams if he didn't get out of here. And today of all day, maybe there was a god, he saw an opportunity.
The briefing with SG-1 presented him a golden opportunity. Their next assignment was a mineral survey of a planet that was more the 80 percent covered by oceans. There had been evidence of naquida deposits. This planet was not on the original Abydos cartouche and from the MALP findings there was no evidence of any inhabitance, Goa'uld or otherwise. The plan was to send a UVA to do aerial reconnaissance and then either just retrieve the craft or to investigate its findings. The mission would be a leisurely paddle down a lazy broad river with a chance of some off world fishing and possibly retrieving some raw naquida spewed up by now dormant volcanoes. It was Teal'c who suggested that a fourth member for their team would be advantageous in handling the rafts and asked if O'Neill had any spare time. Jack was nonplussed. Carter and Daniel looked at him hopefully and he was embarrassed that it felt so good that they still wanted his company. He made noises about how busy he was but had Walter clearing his schedule within the hour.
The Stargate stood on a shelf of rock on a narrow spit of land that lie between, on the right, a broad shallow river and, on the left, a stream that drained a wide flat boggy area that extended for miles. But the ocean that the river emptied into was within two miles and its salinity and tides extended to the area around the Stargate. When the UVA surveyed the region the weather was sunny and mild, the temperature in the 70's and best yet there was a deposit of raw naquida on the ocean shore four miles from the Stargate as the crow flies. The UVA had flown a circuitous route and now lie within 50 yards of the gate.
The bank at the base of the Stargate platform was composed of shale-like gravel indispersed with smooth large river stones, fine for launching the rafts but too wet for a base camp. There, in fact, was no suitable place for a base camp. The other side of the stream was too swampy and the other side of the river was sheer formidable cliffs, reminiscent of the palisades of the Hudson, with occasional sandy or gravel tidal beaches at the base of the cliffs. But a base camp was not deemed necessary. They would start early, raft to the site in question, camp for the night and decide then whether or not to take an extra day to scout the territory, then raft back to the gate and home. A piece of cake!
O'Neill tried not to usurp Carter's role as commander of SG-1 but he did put his two cents in regarding packing for their trip. He gave each of them a roll of plastic freezer bag with zipper-like closures.
"I have taken a rafting trip or two and believe me there is nothing like dry clothes when you need it. I am a firm believer in encasing everything in plastic. A pair of dry sock or a dry sleeping bag can be worth its weight in gold."
He brought his fishing rod so "I won't be bored with nothing to do but just watch Carter paddle down the Nile"
They arrived early morning through the gate with two rafts that needed to be inflated and a seeming mountain of equipment. Along with SG-1 and General O'Neill were three service men that did most of the hauling and toting and packing of the rafts. The first raft was supposed to be manned by Teal'c and Carter but Daniel innocently climbed in before she could. Carter and O'Neill claimed the second raft. These airmen pushed them off into the calm gently flowing river where the rafts drifted in close proximity and then the young men returned to the SGC with the UVA in tow.
"We never got this kind of service when I was in command of SG-1."
"Lt. Col. Carter has many more people volunteering their services to her than you O'Neill."
He tried to appear miffed but in fact was pleased.
It was idyllic, the sun sparkled on the water, all that was heard was the odd splashes of O'Neill's casting for the elusive off world crappie and murmurs of genial conversation. O'Neill thought the only way this day could be better was if he were leaning back against the side of the raft, already warm from the sun, with a cold beer in one hand and his arm around ... He pushed the dream out of his mind and decided to enjoy what he did have. O'Neill leaned back in the prow of the raft to face Carter in the aft. He stopped speaking mid-sentence when the sky caught his attention. The weather was changing rapidly. Not only was the sky darkening with roiling clouds but the river itself seemed to be gathering steam. It was moving swifter and choppier within minutes.
"Carter did that UVA fly up river."
"No sir. It homed in on the naquida deposit and our route to it."
"I think you'd better turn around and have a look."
No sooner did she turn than the first band of squalls roll in. At this point they were close to the mouth of the river and the tide was changing causing cross currents. This combined with rain and increased turbulence in the river itself caused them to be tossed about. Anything not secured flew overboard. The winds and rain grew until they were of hurricane proportions. It took all their strength to hold onto the raft. The raft Daniel and Teal'c were in was driven off toward the boggy flats. There were sections that were reminisant of stands of Mangroves. The current that caught the other raft, drove them in the opposite direction first out into the ocean and then back toward the rocky shore.
The howling winds and sheets of rain made it near impossible for Daniel and Teal'c steer a course for land. Primarily, they couldn't see it and secondly, they were too busy just trying to stay in the raft. A large wave lifted up the raft, and flipping it over, flung it into the Mangroves. Daniel found himself, literally, up a tree and Teal'c, a little further in land, somewhat dazed, called for his friend.
Daniel and Teal'c made their way slowly through the boggy ground that was covered with a tangle of roots and vines. The mangroves kept the soil from being washed out to sea but allowed it to become a quagmire for any one unlucky enough to fine himself lost in its midst. The relentless rain and howling gale force winds made their journey slow and uncertain. They decided their best bet was to return to the Stargate, gate back to the SGC and hope that there they would meet up with Sam and Jack. If not they would return with reinforcements when the weather calmed. The eye of the storm provided them with the opportunity to make up precious time but the storm picked up again when they got within the last half mile of the gate. During the calm they actually believed they had contacted Sam and Jack. The radio connection was spotty at best but they believed that their friends were safe and looking for or had found shelter to ride out the storm.
The bottom of gate was awash when they finally found it. The water from the river as well as the sea lapped at the rock formation it was located on. Daniel feared that the DHD would short circuit but the operation proved to be flawless, the only problem being the gallons upon gallons of water the flowed through the gate with the weary travelers. The storm had caught them shortly before noon. Most of the rest of the afternoon they were tossed about and by three in the afternoon they were finally thrown into the knees of the mangroves. The journey back to the Stargate took until roughly 2 in the morning. They were soaked, cold and totally exhausted.
Sam and Jack stayed afloat longer than the others. The current swept them first out to sea, and kept them there, then back along the coast line battering their raft onto a rocky shoreline. O'Neill saw a small sandy beach and paddled for all he was worth toward it. The motor did not stay submerged in the rough seas long enough to be effective. Unfortunately the raft was flung wide of the beach and dashed onto the rocks. The raft overturned and both O'Neill and Carter were hurled into the surf. He felt his body being battered by sharp rocks, scoured by gravelly ocean floors and slammed down again and again by the pounding surf. When he found his feet he searched for Sam. He lifted her limp body from a rocky outcropping and dragged her to the shore. There was blood but he could not tell from where and her lips were blue. He flipped her onto her stomach, put her arms over her head and attempted to push the water from her lungs. He was desperate, had to pull himself together. He turned her to her back and started CPR, breathing into her mouth, alternating with chest compressions. When the water bubbled into her mouth he turned her to her side so she could spewed out sea water, gagging and coughing. He held her and muttered `oh god, oh god Sam'. She felt dazed and thought this man looked a wreck, water matting down his hair and streaming down his bruised face. Sam tried to stand but found not only had the wind been knocked out of her but that her left leg refused to support her weight. Jack put her arm over his shoulder and his arm around his waist as they hobbled up away from the rising water line. The hill facing the ocean was riddled with depressions and caves. Jack's problem was to find one that was high enough so that it would not be swamped by the rising tide but low enough that he had a chance of getting the two of them into it. His knee was already swelling, his left elbow had struck a rock so hard his fingers were still numb and he didn't want to think about the scrapes and bruises. And of the two he was the one in good shape. He wasn't sure Carter knew who he was and he thought her ankle was seriously compromised if not broken.
Scanning the pock marked hill side he edged toward a dark spot that proved to be a cave of sufficient height and depth to accommodate them plus it was 15 to 20 feet above the current water line. It was going to be a bitch to get Carter up there but he felt it would be the most secure location available.
With each wave more of the flotsam and jetsam of the rafts appeared. So he sat Carter down half way to the cave and he waded out into the heavy surf and retrieved what he could, flinging it as high on the beach as he could so the waves would not return these treasures to the deep.
Passing Carter seated on a rock, O'Neill made his way inside the cave just to make sure it wasn't already occupied. It seemed mostly dry except for some seepage in the rear. He cleared a spot on the floor of the cave large enough for a place to put a sleeping bag when he had a brain storm. He went down to the beach and grabbed hold of the raft, disconnected the motor and hauled it up the hill side. A gust of wind nearly ripped it from his hands before he could wrestle it in the cave entrance. He lay it down in the widest flattest point in the cave and did his best to wipe the inside dry. He had almost forgotten that he had left Carter outside in the rain, which at this point was again beginning to fall in torrents. He did his best to get her into the cave painlessly. He failed. He returned to the beach to toss what ever he could into the cave entrance. He was getting exhausted but felt whatever supplies he failed to get into the cave would be the very thing they would need to save their lives. It was getting too dark to see and the rain was relentless so he retreated to the cave.
The frantic activity had kept the soaked man warm but Carter sitting on the edge of the raft was shivering violently. O'Neill did a fast survey of the items recovered and found the plastic bag with the clothes he planned to wear that night, a pair of sweat pants, a long sleeved t-shirt and a pair of socks. He stripped Carter of her wet clothing, talking to her all the while to calm and soothe her and dressed her in the dry clothing. He swabbed out the raft again and lay her down in it. The next item he located was one of the sleeping bags. While not prefect it was mostly dry and he wrapped this around her. He then went in search of the first aid kit to locate some ace bandages. There was also some with his shaving kit if he could find that. These days with his knees it was a "never leave home without it" item along with ibuprofen. She swallowed the two pills he handed her. He sat at the rear of the raft, tried not to drip too much in it and drew her foot out to tend to her ankle. He wrapped it best he could with the elastic strips and put the socks on her feet and covered her back up.
No sooner did he walk to the mouth of the cave to assess the storm did he realize that it was beginning to calm and his radio was crackling. He was sure he heard Danny and relieved to know they were safe and on the way home for help. He prayed that his return message was heard and understood.
He heard them before he saw them. The strange sounds, like something was dragging something up the beach. When there was a break in the clouds he could clearly see the turtles lumbering up the beach. Well they mostly looked like turtle, loggerheads, shells, flippers, beaky heads and big. He estimated they ranged from four to six feet long. Then to his amazement he realized just what they were doing; they were coming up to the high end of the beach to lay their eggs. It was like watching the Discovery Channel or Animal Planet. The beach wasn't 30 yards long and it was a mass of creature digging. Nesting sites were at a premium and some clutches of eggs were dug up in the attempt to bury others. He thought about going down to the beach and snagging some of the eggs that had been disturbed. They would only be washed out to sea in the rising tide and he wasn't sure that he had found any food in the items toss on to shore. He walked out in the rock area that the sea creatures avoided and searched in the moon light for any other bit of wreckage that he and Carter could make use of. He was close enough to the creatures to see the deep scores on their shells and partially missing flipper. Returning to the cave with two eggs that had been flung his way and a rescued small Styrofoam lunch chest, he wondered what else inhabited the seas.
He didn't realize that she was conscience until he heard her call out. "... can't leave him here. 's too cold." He went over to her. "You cold?" "Yeah but the Colonel, we can't leave the Colonel." She sounded absolutely desperate, tossing about. "It's alright. Everything is going to be alright." "No, no. I can't do it. I can't fix it." He tried again to soothe her. She was so agitated that she tried to untangle herself from the sleeping bag and get up.
"He's cold, must be so cold, not again."
"I'm here Carter. I'm all right. It's okay; everything's going to be okay."
She opened her eyes gasping for breathe calming only when she touched his arm, knowing for sure he was real and there with her. He encouraged her to go back to sleep.
O'Neill stepped out of the mouth of the cave primarily to take a leak but took the opportunity to survey the territory. The tracks of the turtles that had crawled up on the shore to lay their eggs were covered by the rising tide. Way out in the water there was a shadow, must be something floating he thought. And for a brief moment his heart lurched thinking it could be the other raft capsized. No, no he knew that they were safe. But the shadow reared up and swallowed one of the retreating turtles whole.
"Holy..." he was backing up into the cave without realizing he had moved at all. And with that the rain started again.
O'Neill set about inventorying the supplies at hand and as soon as he lay hand on the proper equipment he proceeded to field strip his P - 90 and both their side arms. The combination of the storm and the return of high tide had the water within a few yards of the cave. Within a few yards of them - the water and the things that dwelt within.
Colonel Dixon's team was geared up and approaching the gate room.
"I thought General O'Neill said he was going with SG-1 to do a little fishing. What's with all the heavy ordnance?"
"Yeah sir, I though we'd need canoes and paddles."
"Well, you know Jack, it seems the party got a little more exciting. Look, Wells, be careful, would ya. Your wife promised to kick my ass if I brought you back full of holes again."
"No sir, I think Wells' wife said she'd do that only if you brought him back again."
"Look, sir, I don't mean to be negative here but does Dr Jackson expect us to swim to the General."
"Damned if I know. There are no serious means of getting very far but if Jack, I mean the General and Carter are close to the gate we can give them a hand home. If the weather is as bad as Jackson implied I think we'll be in our nice warm dry bunks before long."
The gate was spinning when they entered, joining Daniel and Teal'c at the base of the ramp. The last coordinate sailed into place and they tried to retrieve data from the MALP that had been left on the water planet, but failed. Another MALP was sent through and only a few moments of visuals were recovered before it stopped transmitting. Sgt. Walter Davis' voice informed them that the images transmitted were of violent waves before the MALP was smashed to pieces.
"The moons, it's the moons." Daniel said.
"I do not understand"
"Teal'c, remember the three moons. I think they are aligning or have finally aligned and the tides are at their highest. The Stargate is probably under water or close to it."
Colonel Reynolds, who had assumed command, told the men to stand down. The mission was scrubbed.
It was two or three hours before dawn when Carter sat up to survey her surroundings.
"Well Sir, how are you enjoying your vacation?"
"Feeling better? You know Carter there are easier ways of getting rid of me. What have I done to piss you off?"
"Honestly, Sir, we really researched this place, multiple MALP readings, it was always just perfect."
"Well somebody hates me."
"Not us."
"I think I found our lunch. Someone sealed the Styrofoam container with duct tape so I'm kind of hoping for the best. Hungry?"
"Starved."
They split a roast beef sandwich and can of soda. There was no dry wood to make a fire for anything hot to drink. Matter of fact there was no dry anything except Carter. She stayed in the raft with the sleeping bag around her while O'Neill sat on the ground near her. He was still in the sodden uniform. They decided the rest of the food should be kept in reserve but he did offer her some grapes.
"Carter, I need to get a few hours of sleep. Wake me in 3 or 4 hours, sooner if you need to."
And he handed her the P - 90. He unfolded one of the metallic foil-like sheets from the med kit and wrapped it around himself and lay down on the other side of the raft.
She watched him sleep; there wasn't much else to do. He was curled up in fetal position trying to keep warm under the inadequate foil blanket. He looked so cold. She remembered him too many time so incredibly cold. She turned the sleeping bag side ways, left part over her lower half and flung the rest over him. He seemed to relax a little but grabbed the cloth in his fist. He had crammed his hat on before he lay down, having pulled it out of his shirt like a magician would have pulled out a rabbit. She wondered how he could have possibly held on to it through the storm. But there he lay, brim of his hat over his eyes and fist full on cloth under his nose and she thought about their lives as he slept. Why couldn't they have held on to one another through the storm of their lives? Who let go first? Were they even.... Oh this was just pointless. It was starting to brighten outside but the rain continued. She thought it better to let him sleep. She could see his hand better in the dim light. It was scratched and bruised, knuckles split and bloody.
A memory flitted through her mind. She had gone up to Dr. Lee's lab to help with a chemical analysis he was doing.
"You've got to see this." He said
The technicians were examining something that reminded her of the Shroud of Turin. It was the shirt that O'Neill had worn at Ba'al's fortress. They were attempting to determine the chemical composition of the acid and of the reagent that neutralized it. First they needed to determine the cause of each tear and stain. It was positioned on a clear form and with an accompanying chart. When she walked in to the room one of them took it upon himself to describe in rich detail each and every mark with its cause and result. He went through the knife wounds, how deep they penetrated, the nonfatal ones, then the fatal, the acid burns, and the antidote stain. Then he turned it to the back.
"And as you can see, the main acid spill, on the ventral surface, burned clear through to the dorsal, and there are the blood splatter patterns from the body's impacts with solid surfaces and along with it on the collar seem to be bits of gray matter."
She couldn't bear to hear one more word. Panic was beginning to overwhelm her but she couldn't figure how to get out. She needed to get out now. They were talking about the staff blast burn marks severe injury versus fatal, and she began to loose her peripheral vision.
She felt it all again just staring at his bloody hand. And it had been all her fault. They didn't talk about it and they should have. When he first came back he wasn't well and then he brushed it off or they were too busy or she was too much of a coward to bring it up, whatever. And it was all because she said "Please" and he acquiesced. And he suffered.
O'Neill tried to stretch but thought all his muscles had seized. Everything hurt and the things that didn't hurt ached and the things that didn't ache were stiff. And if he moved he'd realize just how cold and wet he was. This was supposed to be a sort of vacation. He gritted his teeth so he wouldn't groan like an old man and found his feet.
"I miss my wake up call?"
"No reason to, sir. The rain hasn't stopped although I think it's not as heavy."
After they ate one of the other sandwiches for breakfast and drank a can of ice tea O'Neill took a few of the larger empty plastic bags and held them out in the rain until they were filled. These should provide adequate drinking water until the cavalry arrived.
The rain now was sporadic and O'Neill thought he should venture down to the beach to see if any more supplies had washed ashore. Before he had a chance to climb down the embankment the sun came out. He longed to shed his sodden uniform but had nothing to replace it with. If Carter weren't here he would have shed it in a minute. He did grab her discarded jacket and pants hanging them from a branch in the sun.
He was looking intently at the churning surf, walking amid the unusual shell washed up on the shore, when he heard the chittering sound. There were some bird like animals with a scaly brown mottled skin rustling around the remains of shallow turtle's nest. One of them ran, from a morsel it was eating at the shoreline, as O'Neill approached to pick up two bags of raft debris. It seemed to him that it ran with a stride akin to a road runner. He walked up the beach and slowly neared a group of the creatures as they pecked at a clutch of eggs; they scattered but cautiously returned as he held still. He bent down to touch one and they scattered again. As he straightened he felt one peck at his boot. They returned slowly, so very curious. From behind him with the talons of their hind legs extended one jumped at his leg, another at his arm.
"Son of a Bitch"
He drew his side arm and another lunged at his back. He shot two of them. The rest of the pack tore in to the fallen members and ripped them to pieces.
Carter heard him swear and the gun shots almost simultaneously and hobbled to the mouth of the cave P-90 in hand. O'Neill was returning from the beach watching his 6 as he came.
"We are not alone here and I don't think the natives are friendly."
Carter looked confused.
"They're kind of cute but mean as snakes."
"Who sir?"
"The birds. Flightless birds I hope."
Then she saw the slashes in his uniform. The cloth torn but skin for the most part intact. The tiny raptor that struck his back managed to draw blood but the scratch was superficial.
O'Neill had scored big time at the beach, it was almost worth the encounter with his little featherless friends. The packages he managed to hold on to while shooting the attack chickens had Carter's dry clothes and some MRE. So he and Carter finished up the lunch remains and felt full for the first time since the storm washed them away. But first he gave Carter the fresh dry clothes. Primarily because they would never fit him, and a pink tank top was just not him and secondarily, so he could have the clothes, his clothes that she was wearing. They managed to do the clothes swap with minimum of embarrassment. Carter did manage to clean and bandage the cut on his back. They thanked Teal'c for his hearty appetite while downing sandwiches, fruit, and bottled water.
They were well sated when the radio crackled to life. It was the SGC with plan for tomorrows rescue. They were just awaiting the arrival of two more Zodiac crafts. O'Neill apprised them of the creatures he had encountered and warned them to bring suitable armament.
They walked to the mouth of the cave, the ocean within five to ten feet of their boots.
"It's beautiful; the sky is a mass of stars. And the three moon, they're almost perfectly aligned. That must the reason for the high tides and the rough seas. My God, oh my God. What the..."
"Oh that, that the reason the turtles lay so many eggs, well one of the reasons."
"Will it come on shore?" an edge of panic in her voice.
"Hope not, I only found three clips."
"Jack, the gate, the gate must be covered."
"When they come tomorrow the tide will be going out and we'll return as it starts to turn, before it gets too high. It'll be okay. Now why don't you get some rest and spell me in a couple of hours."
He had been standing at the mouth of the cave just looking out into the ocean watching the soothing roll of the waves when he thought he saw a tentacle. It looked like something out of a cheesy Sci fi movie. Then he realized that it had a face and it was looking his way. Slowly, so slowly he slipped back into the shadows of the cave and kicked the raft.
"Carter" he whispered still nudging the raft with his foot "get up; get to the back of the cave. Do it now."
Although half asleep she obeyed, only to get a surge of adrenaline at the urgency in his voice. He followed on her heels. The creature had drawn closer and seemed most curious, too damned curious.
He could hear the splash and streaming of water from the monsters head as it lifted up from the surface of the ocean to peer into the cave. He flattened himself against her at the rear wall. He could feel her fist grasping his shirt at the shoulder and the fingers of her other hand at his waist pulling him closer. He could see her eyes were wide with fear and her hands trembled as the clung to him. He was waiting to feel the creature's breath on his back.
"Let go of me" he breathed into he ear.
If it took him, he would not let it drag her along with him. She hadn't let go. They heard the soft sound of something slipping back in to the water but dare not move lest it would rise again to venture into their cave. Everything was quiet for a few minutes and she never loosened her grasp. His mouth touching her ear, he whispered "I think it's gone. You okay?"
"Never had anything want to eat me before."
She felt him rather than heard him laugh and was annoyed at first then soundlessly laughed herself. The adrenaline was almost gone and her emotions were all over the place.
"I'm going to go look but you've got to let go."
"Don't, please don't."
"It's okay, I'll come right back."
She hadn't realized but she had sunken her short fingernails into him and her hands shook and fingers ached as she relaxed her grip.
"Stay here. Don't move."
He ordered as he gently pulled away from her hands. She wasn't sure she could follow orders. The spirit was willing but her knees were not. The ripples in the water seemed to indicate that the creature swam off out to sea but he was taking no chances. He pulled the raft and all the supplies to the rear of the cave. Sitting Sam down in the raft, he wrapped the sleeping bag around her then sat beside her. He leaned back against the rear wall and she leaned into him. He wrapped his arm around her trying to get her to relax and get a little sleep. She slept but never seemed to relax hold fast to Jack.
Waking from yet another nightmare she found herself sprawled in his lap his hand on her shoulder. She sat up and offered to spell him for a few hours. He reminded her the rescue party would be there mid morning and not to let him sleep to late. It always amazed her, his complete confidence in her. He handed her the P-90 and scrunched down, sharing the covers, his head against her thigh.
He was caught in a dream, struggling to wake - it was Ba'al, always Ba'al. It was his lotar, Kanan's woman asking "Is it you?" "No. It isn't Kanan, It's Jack." But that didn't matter now it was Sara asking "Is it you?" and no it wasn't him, he was no longer the man who wanted to die. He wasn't the man who didn't kill himself in his son's room because it would have been a desecration to spatter that room with his tainted blood. He was no longer that man. "Is it you?" Daniel and Teal'c and Carter looking at him. No longer the man that lied to his team to infiltrate the NID. Alienating them with dishonest actions and dishonest words. "Is it you?" No, he wasn't that man, it wasn't him, didn't they know him better. Not the man shaving who looked in the mirror, "Is it you?" whose brain was being rewritten? He felt his self dissolving away and didn't know who he was becoming.
But there was Carter holding him at arms length, "Is it you?" Just saved from Hathor, just saved from being implanted and so cold, so very cold. "Is it you?" "Yes it's me, it's me." Didn't she know? Then there was Pete and she was turning from him to look at Pete. "Is it you?" What did she want, who did she want? Couldn't she see him, and by now after all these years didn't she know him? She turned away, just as all the rest turned away, even as he told her "It's me, it's me."
Carter heard him saw that he was agitated in a dream. A raspy groan "No" pure desperation. She tried to wake him and he grasped on to her arm. It sounded like "s'me"
He woke trying to control his breathing, edging into panic. He awoke his mind awash with the need to try to make her understand. Understand what, that he was himself. Why should she care? Why didn't she care?
The morning was sunny and the ocean relatively calm. The monsters of the night took a back seat to the task at hand - going home. They tried not to leave too much evidence of their ever setting foot on the planet. However, the thought of some future scientist finding his graphite fishing pole in the midst of dinosaur bones just tickled Jack. They filled the Styrofoam box well as the one back pack they had with naquida ore that was scattered around the cave floor. When Jack tried to lift it he had to unload about half of the dense material. It was still close to 90 pounds.
The sound of the Zodiac motors brought Sam and Jack to the mouth of the cave. They chatted on the radios with their friends while they scanned the ocean surface for any sign of the nightly visitors. They hadn't looked at the beach because, although in wasn't completely visible from the mouth of the cave, they thought that the small raptors posed no threat to the well armed soldiers. When the rafts got closer to their location Jack heard Dixon say, "I thought you said there was a relatively debris free sandy beach."
"Yeah. Don't you have the correct location? Do I have to send Carter out there with a red flag?"
"What the hell are all the logs?"
"Logs? Maybe they wash to shore last night. What the fu..."
His voice trailed off as he made his way down and around toward the beach. And there, sunning themselves, were some of the biggest crocodiles he had very seen.
Landing on the beach was definitely out and the creature didn't seem remotely interested in the rafts in the water. But O'Neill was sure that the minute he and Carter set foot in the water those crocs would all hear the dinner bell ring. After a brief discussion with Dixon it was determined that one raft would stay 20 yards off shore to keep an eye on the locals while the other got as close to the rocky outcropping as they deemed safe. Carter and O'Neill would climb through the rocks, the reverse of the way O'Neill had originally arrived and swim the rest of the way to the raft. There was no way they could carry all the naquida but to leave it all didn't seem like an option to Carter. O'Neill tied a rope to the back pack and placed it on one of the farther most rocks. From this rock Carter and then O'Neill slipped into the water and as silently as humanly possible swam to the raft and were pulled in gentle but swiftly by the airmen. One of the men gave the rope a yank and the bag splashed it the water. The man was unprepared for the weight of the pack and nearly went in after it if not for Teal'c grabbing him around the waist. The splash had two effects. The first was every crocodile opened its eyes and raised its head and second, O'Neill let loose with a stream of curses.
They managed to haul the back pack into the raft, turn the raft around and glide up the river toward the Stargate. A few of the crocs slipped in the water to glide up stream along with the rafts, one or two of the actually swimming under the rafts giving them a subtle bump but nothing overtly threatening. The reptiles turned off a mile up stream and seemed to return to their companions. Thing seemed to be finally going right. They pulled the rafts in at the Stargate platform and unloaded. Dixon, with a nod to O'Neill, took command as he instructed his men to make sure to return the Zodiacs in one piece or there would be hell to pay - they all knew what a hard ass the General was about lost equipment. And so the men and the equipment went through the gate to the SGC. As O'Neill glanced back to this seemingly ideal world, warm and sunny with its peaceful gently flowing river, he noticed the damned back pack sitting where it had fallen when unloaded off the raft. He walked the 15 yards back to hoist it on his back while the last of the rescuers walked through the Gate. As he settled the weight on his back he hears the rustling in the bog.
Everyone was through but O'Neill. They expected the man to swagger through in his usual style but they heard him as soon as they saw him, hauling ass, screaming at them to shut the gate. On his heels was a creature, six foot tall, snarling, scaled, all fangs and claws. The wormhole dissolved and the iris slammed shut lopping off the last third of the creature's tail. The initial roar become a deafening screech the caused a moment of total inaction by everyone in the gate room but O'Neill.
"Shoot it. Shoot it." He could be barely heard over the horrific shrieks of the angry wounded monster.
Then at once every piece of ordnance trained on the creature let go, catching it mid air as it hurled itself at O'Neill. O'Neill was throwing himself on top of the person in front of him, Carter. His hand covered her face just as they both slammed into the concrete floor.
Blood, all she could smell was blood. It felt like she was drowning again, this time in blood. And the weight, she couldn't breathe with O'Neill on top of her and the last impact, it was like the building had collapse on them both.
The claw from the raptor's left hind leg impacted with O'Neill and hooked into his back as it fell dead on top of him. If it had fallen back instead of forward it would have ripped his shoulder blade from his body. Instead it left its talon deeply imbedded. Fortunately part of the creature was flung over the side rail of the gate's ramp. The airmen and medic rush to give aid, they slid Carter out but had to use a bone saw to cut through the raptor's talon to free the General.
He lay in the infirmary bed while three nurses fussed over him. They had decided there was strength in numbers when dealing with O'Neill and Carter laughed form the doorway as he complained. They had him on his stomach while one cleaned and dressed the wound in his shoulder, another tended to the slightly infected slash on his back and the other checked his vitals and tidied up the bed.
"And they told me this was going to be a damned vacation, maybe get in a little fishing."
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