BUT I had to get this off my chest after I had seen the episode Entitled ‘PRISONERS’.

And yeah,

What I know about medical stuff can be put on one wing of a housefly with space left over for a stamp -

One of those really large kinds of African stamps that have the head of the current dictator on that need plenty of space underneath for " His excellency, most exalted, supreme leader, hung like a horse, beloved by…."

I stare across at Daniel, helpless to intervene as that bastard crushes the life from him. I would if I could; only I have problems of my own, like slowly being garrotted by whomever managed to sneak up on me.

Stupid.

Either I am going soft, or my assailant is very good.

Dammit, Daniel needs my help.

I try feinting to the left, sagging my knees,trying to make him lose his grip, only my assailant is wise to what I'm trying to do, merely shifting his own body, making the cord dig in deeper to my windpipe, completely restricting my airflow.

As blackness begins to eat at the corners of my vision, my eyes fix on Daniel's contorted face.

Sorry Danny. I'm so sorry.

...

" Colonel, are you okay?"

I jerked my head up at General Hammond's voice, staring at him blearily for a moment before looking down guiltily at the half completed mission report lying on my desk.

Shit this was not good, caught sleeping on duty.

My only excuse was the fact that it had been one hell of a day.

" Colonel?"

"Sorry General," I whispered, trying to talk through my sore throat.

Damn, something seemed tight in there. I really should have had the medical people look at it when we returned from…P2A 509, but even I could see how anxious they were to dig every last secret out of Lennier.

A mere Colonel with a sore throat would only have been a distraction.

So I had let it slide. Besides, I didn't like Dr Greene.

She was competent enough, but wasn't a scratch on our CMO, Dr Fraiser.

The good ol' doc was due back today, so maybe I would mosey past a bit later on and have her have a look.

" Go home Colonel."

Or maybe not.

" Yessir."

Whoopee, I was being sent home early, something I should relish.

Instead all I was feeling was down. I couldn't help remembering the look on Daniel's face and recall my helplessness.

I had always been there for him before Hadante.

" Grow up O'Neill," I whispered, reaching for my jacket. Danny was a big boy, one that didn't always need a protector.

Hadante had been a case in point.

Somehow Daniel had won the fight, killing that bastard.

I was a bit hazy on precisely how he did it, but he had.

That was the main thing.

For a moment I felt like calling in on him before thinking better of it. I was so tired I felt like dropping, a shaky kind of tired I didn't like. No, Hammond was right, what I needed was sleep, and lots of it.

The drive home was a nightmare, I was so short of breath it felt like an asthma attack, distracting me from the road, but I made it intact somehow, slamming the door behind me with a loud thunk. Dropping my keys on the table I made my way unsteadily to the kitchen. My tongue felt big in my mouth, I was that thirsty. All we had to eat in the past two days was that gruel that looked suspiciously like wet cement, and no water at all.

Moving slowly as not to over exert myself, I reached for a glass, filling it with tap water.

I slowly sipped the water, feeling the coolness in my mouth. Oh yeah. Life was all about the small things. Closing my eyes in bliss, I took a large gulp, and found myself on my hands and knees, coughing my lungs out.

God, that hurt, frightening me. What the hell was wrong? It wasn't the first time in history I had someone try to strangle me, so why was I suffering so now?

Eventually the paroxysm eased, allowing me to cautiously roll onto my back and allow my heaving lungs to draw as much oxygen as they could through my swollen throat. God, I was tired. So tired. I relaxed where I lay, hearing my breath whistling. Okay I was hurt, but not dying. As long as I could still breathe I wasn't dying.

....

" And Colonel O'Neill is...where?"

Dr Fraiser looked over her clipboard at Dr Greene, noticing her despondent shoulders. Somehow she had managed to miss one hell of a day, from having SG1 return from another planet entirely than the one they were sent to after successfully breaking out of some sort of jail, bringing a frail gray haired woman back with them, who turned out not to be as harmless as she looked.

" He's off base Doctor," Greene said. " I went looking for him, wanting to look at the angry marks on his throat, but General Hammond had already sent him home."

Fraiser frowned at her colleague. " Did you ask the General why he sent Colonel O'Neill home? "

She was given a shocked look. " I couldn't ask that," Greene whispered.

Fraiser gave her an exasperated look.

" When there could be a medical reason involved, you always ask," she said, heading for the door at a trot.

...

" Colonel?"

I jerked awake, staring at the ceiling blankly, feeling totally disorientated. I swear someone had just called my name.

" Colonel O'Neill, are you in there?"

Sure I was.

As to what I was doing lying on my kitchen floor was another matter.

" Colonel?"

Okay I'm coming.

I slowly rolled onto my side; trying hard to blink away the small dots that kept floating across my vision.

" Airman, kick in that door."

" Maam?"

"I take full responsibility."

" Yes maam."

They were breaking in my front door, for crying out aloud.

Why were they doing that?

" Colonel? Colonel O'Neill?"

The voices sounded suspiciously like Carter and Doc Fraiser. I lay there, head resting in a pool of something wet and listened to them clatter through my house.

" Janet?" Carter's voice came in something that sounded suspiciously like a sob. " Janet, he's in the kitchen."

I watched as she knelt next me, her blonde hair shining in the sunlight and felt her hands warm me through my shirt as she gripped my upper arms.

" Colonel, can you hear me?"

Of course I could. I opened my mouth to answer her, only find I couldn't make a sound.

" Severe anoxia," somebody snapped, probably Janet.

" He has evidence of damage to his trachea, causing severe swelling," Janet said.

I saw her turn and glare up at an airman. " Call 911".

911? Oh for Pete's sake, I wasn't that hurt. It's not like I couldn't breathe. I could hear myself breathe. That whistling sound, that was me breathing. Yup. Not very well, but still...

Carter took my hand, gently rolling me onto my back again, and then stiffened, her nails digging into my arms

" Janet, look at his fingernails," she said softly. " They’re dark blue, as if he slammed them into the door of his truck."

" I notice Sam," Janet said.

" More evidence of anoxia, cyanosis. " she said.

" He isn't getting in enough oxygen to his extremities like his hands and feet. "

Someone was busy covering me with something soft and oh so warm, making me immediately feel drowsy.

Fraiser took my other hand, warming my fingers as the sound of a far off siren could be heard.

...

The ride in the back of the ambulance was one that Janet Fraiser would not forget in a hurry.

Anoxia, or shortness of life giving oxygen, is always a very serious condition, requiring a set routine to alleviate the problem, number one in the routine being get oxygen in the patient as soon as possible.

Luckily for the Colonel, he was breathing after a fashion, but his color wasn't good, nor was he responsive in any way, despite appearing to be conscious.

Even though treatment with pure oxygen seemed to be helping, they really needed to get him on a respirator as soon as possible before even trying to ascertain what was actually wrong with his throat, although from her initial assessment it looked like cartilage damage, maybe crush damage.

The mere fact that Greene had allowed the Colonel to leave the infirmary at all without a thorough checkup was a severe dereliction of duty, difficult patient or no.

Janet looked around her, feeling a brief flash of self-pity. If that bitch had done her job correctly, she would not be in this situation, escorting a critically injured man, her friend to Academy General Hospital, hoping against hope that he was managing to take in enough oxygen to prevent brain damage.

Shoving her self-pity aside, she leaned forwards, gently stroking the hair out of the Colonels eyes and started to talk to him softly.

...

Okay, this was most odd. How in the hell had I gone from writing up my report to lying flat on my back in what had to be Academy General?

I felt warm, lethargic, not at all worried about the snap-hiss sound that had to be a respirator somewhere close at hand. Whatever happened had to have been serious, nevertheless, finding out what it was would just have to wait until I ...until I was...

Okay, nighttime.

I always liked looking at the stars at night. In fact, whenever we were offworld and night rode in, I always managed to sneak in a look, trying to find home amongst the millions of twinkling stars.

Of course I never did, but that never stopped me from trying.

People all just thought I was an avid astronomer, but there was more to it than that. There was a sense of freedom in the stars, something not found on earth at the time.

In Iraq we were just prisoners, non-entities that still, despite their best efforts, still showed some semblance of being human. It was one cold winters night, after they had forgotten that they had staked me out there in the sand earlier that day that I really saw for the first time in my life what the myriad of stars actually meant to me.

Freedom. Freedom and dependability. No matter what happened to me, no matter where I was in the world, or the universe for that matter, the stars remained constant, no matter from which side you look at them.

They also gave me a sense of peace, like now.

Someone, a nurse or someone had neglected to pull the curtains shut and close the windows, thus affording me the most incredible vista of stars to relax under. That, along with the cool nighttime breeze wafting through my window set me at ease, allowing me to sink into a dreamless sleep, something I rarely do.

...

Janet stood for a moment at the door, steeling herself before entering the room.

Colonel O'Neill had been taken off of the ventilator earlier that day and had immediately started on the pleading and cajoling for escape, despite only being able to beg in whispers. She wouldn't have minded in any other situation, but considering the amount of time and effort she had spent on him over the last couple of days, this time she did.

" Colonel," she said, sweeping into the room with a sunny smile plastered on her face. " Good news, you're going to be transferred back to the base this afternoon."

His expression told her he was not taking the news too well.

"But why?" he asked petulantly, looking for all the world like her daughter did when things weren't going her way.

" Because," she said.

If he wanted to act like a juvenile, than she would treat him like one.

" Because why Captain?" he asked, making her rapidly rethink her strategy.

" Because Colonel, you have just had a pretty serious operation on your throat, one that took a lot of time and effort by myself and others."

She sat on the edge of his bed and glared at him.

" The doctors in question, myself included, now wish to make sure that you take things easy for a day or two until our reconstructive surgery heals. That means the infirmary."

She paused at his querulous look. " Sir?"

"Reconstructive surgery? The bad guy partially strangled me with a vine for Pete's sake."

Fraiser intensified her glare.

" No Colonel, he did more than partially strangle you. He somehow managed to crush some cartilage, making it almost impossible for you to breathe."

" Or swallow," he said quietly, remembering the kitchen incident.

Her smile was gentle. " Or swallow," she agreed.

" So why didn't Dr Greene pick up on this?" he asked.

Fraiser shrugged. " I'm not really sure. According to witnesses and the rest of SG1, you actually submitted to a thorough examination upon your return from wherever you ended up, but she somehow missed it."

" They were all depressed by Lennier's abrupt departure," he murmured.

" I didn't want to bother them with a sore throat."

" You shouldn't have had to," she said. " The SGC is the premier base in the country, with our SG teams encountering all sorts of dangers on every mission, as you well know. Greene missed something basic, and compounded her error by refusing to ask after you when General Hammond sent you home."

She never queried once why he sent you home either, rather allowing sleeping dogs to lie, so to speak. That tremendous oversight almost led to your death."

" Oh come on," he murmured. " I was breathing when you found me."

" You wouldn't have for much longer Colonel. You were so short of oxygen that you were in severe danger of brain damage."

" Not that you would have noticed any difference," a voice drawled from the partially open door. Colonel O'Neill's face immediately split in to a wide smile.

" Daniel."

Fraiser smiled at the sandy haired linguist, noticing the chess set in his one hand.

"He won't be too good at chess yet Daniel," she murmured, heading for the door, only to be stopped by a whisper from O'Neill.

" Janet?"

She turned on her heel. " Yes Colonel?"

" Where is Dr Greene now?"

She had been dreading this question, not knowing precisely how he would take it.

" In lockup sir."

" Ah." He was silent for a moment, watching an uncharacteristically silent Daniel Jackson set up the board, before transferring his burning eyes back to her.

" The charge?"

" Dereliction of duty."

" Ah," he said again, once more looking at Daniel's nimble hands. When nothing else was forthcoming from him, she eventually slipped out the door, leaving them alone.

...

" Dereliction of duty," Daniel snorted the minute Fraiser was out of earshot.

" Oh,..... come on Jack. That's unfair...and you know it."

" That is Doctor Fraiser's prerogative," I said gently.

" One which you can overrule, you being the injured party and all," he said.

" I could," I said thoughtfully, "But I'm not going to."

Daniel thumped himself down on my bed, sending his carefully set up chess pieces flying.

" For heavens sake, why?"

" She was negligent," I said slowly.

" Hell, I thought I had a sore throat. Okay sure, I had a red mark on my neck that simply screamed the fact that I had been either strangled, or had failed at suicide. Other than that I seemed okay. I felt okay as well, just shaky and hung over.The fun part was, nobody in the infirmary checked. Oh okay, they checked for Gou'ald and whatever else they always check for after every mission any of us go on, but besides that, no one checked on me at all. Hell, they were so miserable and depressed no one even asked about the red marks, let alone felt around there just to make sure everything was okay."

I stared at Daniel, noticing his intense concentration. That's one of the reasons why I like Daniel so much.

When we decide to be serious, we really connect.

" I mean, Lennier even cured you, after your fight with Vish...Vishnoor, for Pete’s sake, an act that should have been highly suspect after she did her great bunk, but no one approached you either, did they?"

When he shook his head, I smiled, vindicated.

" Doctor Fraiser would have," I said softly, suddenly feeling totally exhausted."She would have had you in isolation until she could check out what Lennier had done to you, and me on my way to the OR before I could splutter my first complaint."

Daniel was carefully inspecting a pawn, turning it this way and that in the light. For a frightening moment I thought that he was going to do an analogy between us and it, prompting me to lay back against my pillows and shut my eyes.

Much to my surprise I instantly fell asleep.

…

" The Cyrillian gambit is a well known chess strategy on Chulac, Daniel Jackson," Teal’c said calmly.

Daniel sounded outraged.

" Oh come on Teal’c. You play with different colored stones on a board with eighty-one squares. That’s hardly chess as we know it on earth."

" I believe you are mistaken," Teal’c said evenly, prompting a snigger from Captain Carter. " I have been studying your version of Fahmat closely and are under the impression that the games are almost identical, from moves to strategy."

I heard a thump that had to be Teal’c hitting his chest. " I am a champion Fahmat player. That is the rationale I use as to why I managed to triumph so easily against your obviously unsound strategy."

Daniel had been beaten at chess?

" Way to go Teal’c," I whispered sleepily, smiling as my team gathered round my bed, their animosity forgotten.

" How are you feeling sir?" Carter asked, her face concerned.

I smiled up at her. " Much better thanks, and a hell of a lot better than I would have been had you not broken in my door."

Her worried expression changed into a sunny smile. " Your door has already been fixed, courtesy of the Air Force sir."

" I do have insurance," I murmured, " although just how they’d react to a female Rambo ordering the demolition, I don’t know."

" That’s why the Air Force were roped in," she said, flushing slightly, much to my delight.

Daniel meanwhile had his finger on the button, raising the head of my bed and allowing me to see the chess massacre for the first time.

From the look of it Daniel never stood a chance.

" Ouch," I said with feeling.

" Tell me about it," Daniel said. " You would have been a far easier mark." As I watched, his countenance changed, a sure sign that his lightening quick brain had switched on to an entirely different track. I was pleased to see both Teal’c and Carter stare curiously at him as well, having finally learnt what his telltale movements meant.

" Spit it out Daniel," I whispered, studiously ignoring Teal’c’s raised eyebrow.

" Doc Greene was removed from the SGC this morning Jack." He took a deep breath, obviously in preparation to defend the underdog. " Are you sure that you’re not going to…"

" No," I said, cutting him off. " Anymore than anyone would intervene had I been the one to stuff up." I paused for a moment, gathering my thoughts and allowing my team to understand the enormity of my next words.

" Kids, we are members of a base that quite simply cannot afford mistakes. Ever."

I looked at them gravely, searching for words. " Everyone, from SG 1 to 8, from the General himself to the most junior airman knows one thing above all else. If we are derelict in our duty, someone will die."

I turned my attention to Daniel, staring deep into his mournful eyes.

" We ask for 100 percent. We ask it from ourselves first and foremost, then expect it from our support teams as well." I swallowed, trying to lubricate my dry throat, grimacing at the pain this caused.

" Greene gave 80 percent, and is now paying for it. Do you understand what I’m trying to say Daniel?"

I waited with baited breath. Daniel needed to understand for SG1 to go forwards.

" I think I do Jack," he said slowly, his eyes distant. " I don’t like it, and I especially don’t like the percentage you intend to maintain the base at, but I actually do think that I understand."

 He shuddered delicately. " Which is really frightening in a way, because if I’m finally turning into a soldier, then I think I’m doomed."

I gave a bark of genuine laughter, dissipating the seriousness in the room for, oh, about two seconds until I started to hack painfully, sending some mysterious monitor squealing in alarm.

" Danny boy," I gasped through watering eyes, staring up at the concerned man.

" The day that happens, I’ll allow you to teach me ancient Egyptian, okay?"

I could see his thoughtful expression clear into a smile as a nurse rushed into the room....

EINDE

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