*A desolate planet and a rainstorm set the scene…

"Carter," I yelled, praying she could hear me over the drumming rain. "Take SG1 back through the gate and get help."

For a moment there was silence, then her voice floated down.

"Are you sure sir? I mean, you’re hurt and…"

"Dammit Carter. If it’s too dangerous to stay, then you get them home."

Another silence ensued as she digested this unpalatable command of mine, then her voice came back.

"Yes sir. But I’ll be back, I promise."

I laughed silently, staring up into the rain.

Of course she would be back. Nobody gets left behind.

"Watch out for sinkholes," I warned, just in case she had forgotten where her Colonel was.

"Gee, why?" her sarcastic voice floated back.

Then she was gone, and a minute the whoosh of an open stargate told me they were all gone, and I had never felt so alone before in my life.

"Dammit," I whispered. "Curses on all computers and…who in the hell gave permission for it to rain?"

"Have you any ideas what this stuff is? I asked Major Carter, crunching over what looked like thin slabs of stone that crackled and broke under my feet.

She walked up to where I was standing, her breath white in the bitter cold evening air.

"It’s slate sir," she replied, crouching down and carefully placing a sample into a plastic bag.

"Is it dangerous?" I asked, taking another couple of experimental steps.

She shook her head, looking thoughtful. "I don’t think so, sir, but slate is brittle and easily broken, so it won’t harm us to be careful.

"Hmm." My decision made, I yelled at Daniel and Teal’c, who were busy sending the MALP back home.

"Stay at the stargate. Carter and I will check out the surrounding area, just in case."

"You think there are Jaffa here?" Daniel asked drolly, staring around the completely flat landscape. "Cos if there are, then I want to know under which rock they’re hidden."

Carter got in on the act.

"Oh, Jaffa," she said in a high girlish voice, holding her hand to her throat. "Where?"

"They’re here," I replied, attempting to look sinister. "If you look real hard, you’ll see them."

Teal’c was getting good at interpreting weird humor.

"Then when you return O’Neill, you will find Daniel Jackson and I hiding behind yonder hill," he said calmly, gesturing towards…nothing.

"Good one Teal’c," I laughed, lifting my pack. "In all seriousness, I think that the only thing you are going to have to contend with is rain.

Daniel nodded in agreement, grimacing.

"What a desolate planet," he muttered. "Has anybody any idea as to why we’re here in the first place?"

"This is a random hit, Daniel," Carter said. "Sometimes a series of glyphs somehow makes sense, and we have another address to go to."

She hesitated, staring around at the barren landscape with its low gray clouds and shivered. "Although, in this case, I feel we needn’t have bothered."

"No Naquadah, no Trinium, no people?" I asked surprised.

She shook her head. "Just rain," she said, watching as the first drops fell.

"Wonderful," I moaned, reaching for my poncho. "Remind me to stick an axe through your computer when we get back."

I turned to Daniel and Teal’c.

"Sit tight. We’ll investigate the terrain for half an hour, then return."

Daniel nodded, searching for the tent. "Stay dry," he warned.

As if to reinforce his words, a peal of thunder could be heard.

…

"So Carter," I said ten minutes later, "tell me again how this fancy computer of yours works."

She ignored me.

"So I guess, it takes all the glyphs, squeezes and stretches them this way and that, until it manages to find the most inhospitable, Godforsaken planet it can, and then says, ‘Hey, I have found just the planet for SG1 to explore.’"

"How was I to know that it was going to look like this?" she muttered.

"The MALP maybe?" I asked irritably. "I’m pretty sure they are designed…"

Without warning, my world lurched and I was thrown to the ground with a booming thud.

"What the heck?" I rolled into a sitting position, only to see Carter staring at me, her eyes under her rain hood wide and frightened.

"Sir, don’t move," she said urgently.

I instantly went still, years of working with her telling me that something was very, very wrong.

"What is it?" I hissed, although I had a fairly good idea.

"The ground…" she took a deep breath and started to back away from me, her feet making hollow sounds as she did so.

"I think that you’re lying on a thin layer of slate sir." Her eyes were wide with fear as she carefully stepped backwards, obviously trying to be as silent as she could.

"Oh crap, a sinkhole?" I asked, my eyes on hers.

"Or something like that," she murmured quietly. She straightened in relief as she obviously found solid ground again.

"Stay perfectly still," she commanded, reaching for her pack. "I’m gonna throw you a rope and…"

I saw what she hadn’t seen and shook my head, a feeling of unreality sweeping over me, slowing my blood, and calming my heart rate.

"Too late," I said softly. "Look."

It was like I was lying on ice instead of a thin layer of slate. As I watched, cracks spread out all around me, and a tinkling sound could be heard as the fragments obviously fell into the hole underneath me.

Her eyes widened as she saw the predicament I was in.

"Sir move, move, move," she yelled, stretching her hand out impotently towards me as I started to scramble towards safety.

Of course, I could see that I was never going to make it, but in the true Jack O’Neill spirit, I was going to damn well try.

…

I awoke to find myself lying at the bottom of a deep hole, my arm twisted underneath me in a way that nature never intended it to be, making me moan.

I was cold, wet, and hurt.

"Colonel?"

The noise immediately sent off a series of fireworks in my head, making me gasp in pain. Damn, add a head injury to the list.

"Colonel, can you hear me?"

Carter was yelling my name, the noise reverberating around and around in my skull.

I lay still, wishing she would stop.

The second time I awoke, I felt slightly better. My arm didn’t hurt so much, and voices were speaking softly from somewhere above me.

" He’s down some considerable distance, Daniel. I tried to call to him, but he’s not answering."

A bright light shone down, looking faint, making me realize that I lay some considerable distance from the surface.

"What worries me is the rainwater. If enough of it collects…"

"He’ll drown."

"Why don’t we just abseil down to O’Neill?" a deep voice asked, Teal’c.

Awareness was slowly coming back to me, and with it, the pain.

"I tried that. The slate is too brittle. I caused a mini landslide when I tried, almost burying the Colonel."

Daniel’s voice sounded disgusted. "There must be something we can do."

"Nothing," Carter said. "Yet. We have solid rain, and sinkholes appearing all over the place. "It’s just too dangerous to stay."

Daniel sounded horrified. "So we just leave him to die? No way."

I felt strong enough to join in the conversation.

"Carter," I yelled, grimacing as my head tried to explode.

"Sir?" She sounded relieved.

"Take SG1 back through the gate and get help."

My order made her silent, and then her voice floated down.

"Are you sure sir? I mean …"

I knew this was coming. I had trained them all too well to ever willingly leave someone behind.

Knowing this, I used logic.

"Dammit Carter. If it’s too dangerous to stay, then you get them home."

She was silent again, and then replied.

"Yes sir." Her voice took on a warning tone. "But I’ll be back, I promise."

Of course she would.

I lay back and shut my eyes, allowing the pounding rain to massage my body.

"You hear me sir?" she said when I didn’t reply. "I’ll return in no time, I swear. I don’t want you to worry."

Yeah right. I felt the water pooling around my body and snorted.

…

Do you know how many songs there are with the word rain in the title?

I mean, there are the old favorites, Ahm singin’ in the rain, and Raindrops keep falling on my head, which they most decidedly were, but besides that, how many songs?

I gave up after thinking of eight, just plain too exhausted to go on.

I had broken my watch in my fall, along with the arm underneath it, making it impossible for me to figure out how long it had been since Carter and the others had left.

It felt like ages, but was probably wasn’t.

Besides, I was feeling better now I was sitting upright.

I leaned back against the wall of my new home and sighed. Sitting up wasn’t much in the scheme of life and things, but at least I was no longer in any danger of drowning. Yet.

I mean, I was awake, aware, and breathing, making me feel bad that Carter had gone haring back to the SGC thinking I was at deaths door.

Deaths door was when I was near death, right?

As far as I could tell, all I had was a broken arm and a headache. That wasn’t deaths door. Not at all. It was going to be embarrassing when SG whatever came to fetch me that was for sure.

Gritting my teeth, I slowly got to my feet, leaning against one of those odd colored walls.

There, that wasn’t so bad. Now, if I could do something about the icy water, I would feel so much better.

"Can you turn the faucet now, please?" I yelled, grimacing as my voice reverberated around my new home, sounding almost Gou’ald like.

Needless to say, my request was denied.

So maybe I could climb out.

Leaning in close, I could see that the walls consisted of nothing more than flat shards of muddy rock, no, slate, one on top of the other, crushed flat by millennia. Probably millennia of rain, I thought sourly, tugging ineffectively at a loose shard.

I realized my mistake the minute the ground rumbled above my head.

"Oh Crap."

There was nowhere I could hide.

I felt like one of those villagers in Peru, you know, the ones that got buried regularly under those mudslides. Although, in my case, I had the added fun of having masses of sharp slate join the party.

Pieces of slate really hurt when they fell on you, especially if they were razor sharp.

They were like mini razor blades - well, actually not so mini - biting into my body as I was sent tumbling across the floor, frantically rolling away from the danger, my injuries forgotten.

Finally everything stopped, leaving me lying bruised and bloody and major league pissed off.

"This is so not any fun," I yelled, hearing my voice reverberate around my…hole?

I refused to use the word tomb. And I would definitely not use the word grave.

For a while I was content to lay where I had finally ended up, allowing the rain to wash the mud from my face, feeling sorry for myself.

I was cold, wet, hurt, and I wanted very badly to go home.

Suddenly it hit me that I completely alone.

Really, really alone.

The night immediately seemed darker, the rain colder, harsher.

I was all alone and far from home. And if the water kept on rising like it was doing, I could conceivably die here.

I mean, I had been alone before, like when I hit the ground hard in Iraq so long ago, and on many a guard duty when I was younger when the early morning seemed like I was the only person left on earth - but this was different.

The MALP had found no life here at all, and with SG1 gone, I was the only human on this planet.

Geesh, talk about sudden homesickness.

"So get yourself out of this," I muttered, my voice echoing around and around, the tightly packed slate definitely making it something other than human.

Or that was just my imagination, caused by my head injury.

I shakily crawled to my knees and carefully probed my temple with my good hand, grimly forcing back the pain, feeling for a spongy softness that thankfully wasn’t there, that God.

Somehow, the rain grew in intensity, splattering against the slate with a hollow booming sound, slicking my hair and finding its way under my rain poncho, no matter how hard I tried to stop it.

I was now kneeling in water, and shivering badly.

"Up Jack," I muttered. It took some doing, but I finally made it to my feet.

I tried peering upwards, wondering whether I could see the sky, but all I got was a mouthful of water, the falling raindrops threatening to drown me, or more importantly, make me lose my precarious balance.

If I fell, I would drown. I was shivering badly, and no longer had the strength to regain my feet, of that I was certain.

Something clattered, far above me, and I felt a surge of hope, making me reach for my radio.

"Carter?"

I waited expectantly for her voice.

I tried again. "Carter?"

Nothing. Zip, Nada.

"So okay then," I said, needing to hear a human voice, even if it was my own distorted one. "Walk. Get the blood moving, before you slowly freeze and drown."

I knew there was truth in my words; many a lecture on battlefield survival had emphasized that exact point. If you are cold, move. If you didn’t, you may well die.

Grumbling to myself, I slowly worked my way around my prison, lightly feeling the uneven walls with my good hand, suddenly aware that I was now in pitch darkness.

"Oh this is good, O’Neill," I moaned. I was now trapped in a hole on a distant planet where mudslides were common and the fucking rain wouldn’t quit.

And to makes things worse, it was doubtful that any rescue would now come before morning.

…

She held the radio to her lips the minute she stepped through, glad to be finally doing something.

"Sierra golf one-fiver to sierra golf one niner. Colonel?"

There was no reply.

Major Samantha Carter listened to the soft hiss emanating from her radio and bit her lip, turning away from the others before they could see her expression.

Hopefully, his radio had just shorted out in the never-ending rain. The alternative, that he had died, drowned or buried in his dark hole far from home and those he loved did not bear thinking about.

Yes, his radio had shorted out that’s all.

But in her heart of hearts she knew that all the SGC radios were waterproof.

She looked up as the last of the rescuers stepped through and the wormhole shut with a snap, plunging them into a silvery dawn.

"What a nice world," Colonel Zack van Ryn grunted sarcastically, pulling his collar up against the rain. "Which way major?"

"This way sir," she said softly, clicking on her torch and pointing her beam down at the ground in the approximate direction of the path they took. "The problem is the sinkholes. We don’t yet have enough light to see the ground clearly, and unless I can retrace my original path, one of us may well meet the same fate as the Colonel."

Van Ryn nodded abruptly. "You’re right as usual, Major," he said, and spun on his heel, heading for his team.

Once, when she hadn’t known him as well as she now did, Carter took him for an arrogant man.

He was tall and good looking with blonde hair and the classic Aryan looks that simply screamed arrogance, but he was not like that at all.

It was only through familiarity with the way he and the rest of SG5 worked that she realized that what people perceived as arrogance was just sheer professionalism. He just had no time to waste.

Sure, everything he did he did with a kind of cold efficiency, expecting nothing less of his team, but he wasn’t arrogant about it, anymore that Jack O’Neill was when it came to SG1.

As she watched, a large tent was erected next to the stargate and equipment was moved inside, the combined team of SG1 and 5 making quick work of everything. Soon there was nothing left outside apart from her.

Turning towards where O’Neill was trapped, she clicked the radio again, hoping against hope.

"Sierra golf one to sierra golf one niner, do you read?"

Again she clicked off the radio and waited, trying not to shiver in the inhospitable gray on black landscape that never seemed to see the sun.

Again there was no reply.

Fighting the tears, she once more lifted the radio to her lips.

"We’re coming Jack," she yelled desperately. "Just hang on, you hear me?"

Maybe he could receive, but not transmit.

"Sam?"

His voice was soft in the gloom.

"You realize that we might not find him alive?"

Carter sighed softly and turned to face van Ryn.

"I realize that, sir," she said sadly. "I also know that if there was any way for Jack O’Neill to stay alive, he would do so. He has been through too much in his life already for him to die here."

Van Ryn sighed and faced the heavens, allowing the rain to drum onto his face before finally facing Carter again.

"We used to do this, when we were finally returned home from the Gulf, did you know that?"

"What sir?" Carter asked, confused.

"Stand in the rain, all night if need be."

He chuckled, a rueful sound.

"Iraq was hot, dry and as sandy as hell, with no water to be had."

Carter nodded. "I know sir, I was there."

Van Ryn shook his head, his features clearer now in the early dawn.

"Yes, you were. But you weren’t actually there, amongst the sand fleas and spiders and snakes, were you?"

She shook her head. "No I wasn’t."

He smiled humorlessly. "I was. So was O’Neill."

Carter nodded. "I know."

For a while they were both silent, watching as the surrounding landscape lightened.

"I was there, you know," Van Ryn said abruptly, making her look at him in confusion.

"Sir?"

He was facing away from her, staring across the flat landscape, his eyes hooded.

"In Iraq, close to the Kuwaiti border. We were frontline doctors, the nearest to where the action was. It was to us that they bought the body of a tortured POW they had retrieved, dead to all accounts apart from one, his heart still beat."

"The Colonel?" she breathed, staring at the tall man standing besides her in shock.

He nodded.

"I still have trouble reconciling that damaged animal, that man reduced to his most basic elements, with the proud man I know today."

"Does he know?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"Sometimes I think he does. I have caught him staring at me more than once, his eyes pensive as if he is trying to recall something. But he has never confronted me."

"Does anyone else know?" she asked, watching van Ryn closely.

His smile was bitter.

"Yes. You."

Her heart did a little flop. For a second she was going to give him sympathy for the secret he had carried alone for so long, before wisdom won out. Zack van Ryn wouldn’t want her sympathy anymore than Jack O’Neill would have.

"Thank you for telling me," she said instead, watching as a relieved smile spread over his features, turning the iceman, as he was known, into a very handsome human being.

"Shall we go and fetch him now?" he asked.

She nodded, her heart once more in her boots.

"Yes sir," she said simply, walking shoulder to shoulder with him towards the tent and the others.

…

"Move Jack." My voice was weak and thready, but at least I was still alive.

Once more I worked my way around my prison, feeling blindly for the wall with my hands, numb now from the cold.

Step by step, I forced my body through the chest high water, wary of yet more mudslides. So far, there had been two, both almost knocking me from my feet. Luckily for me, neither of them had been very big, and had the added advantage of raising the level of the floor. If it hadn’t been for them, I would be swimming now, or more than likely, face down and drowned.

Of course, there was a disadvantage as well. The thick mud clung to my boots, making walking difficult, bringing me quickly to the brink of exhaustion, forcing me to rest, yet again.

"Move Jack," I whispered, annoyed at my weakness.

"Dammit, Carter," I snarled, somehow finding the energy to stare up at where I presumed the sky to be, remembering a promise vowed by a blonde haired woman a lifetime ago. "Where are you?"

…

Teal’c and Daniel had been left back at the gate with SG5’s two paramedics, and could only watch helplessly as Sam, Van Ryn and the two mountaineers on loan from SG11, Lieutenants Peters and De Salas, roped themselves up and carefully made their way towards where Jack was trapped.

Despite the skill shown by the seasoned mountaineers leading the way, it was still slow going.

Each step had to be carefully tested, as if one was walking on thin ice. Every now and again, when a firm bit of ground was found, one of them would knock a piton in and feed the rope through it. So far, these pitons had saved them from the same fate as O’Neill.

"How far now, do you reckon?" Van Ryn asked, his eyes constantly scanning the ground in front of them.

"Not far," she replied, grimacing as something beneath her feet tinkled into nothingness. "I don’t remember the ground being as dangerous as it is now though."

"Basic geography," he grunted, changing hands on the wire rescue basket he carried along with De Salas. "Water erodes."

"Yes sir," she said miserably. "Just remind me to delete this planet from the computer when we get home."

"Consider that done," he said, chuckling lightly, her semi-joke diffusing the tension they all felt.

"Although, this place could be a paradise in summer."

"Guess what?" she asked evilly, watching as he dropped to all fours again.

"What?" he yelled back.

"This is summer."

…

I snorted awake, coughing and gasping, trying desperately to hack the water I had inadvertently breathed back out of my lungs. This I found almost impossible to do, seeing as I was now floating, bobbing about like human flotsam. Finally, I managed to take a half decent breath, shuddering in relief. That had been close.

"Okay Jack, time to swim."

I ignored the raspy almost inhuman sound of my own voice and began to paddle, something rather difficult to do with a broken arm.

Finally, in desperation, I lay on my back, doing nothing more than bob gently in the water.

Oh God, I was so tired.

I knew that this course of action was fatal. I knew that the water wasn’t as warm as I perceived it to be, and the mere fact that I wasn’t exerting myself anymore was slowing my heart, causing hypothermia, but I was beyond caring anymore.

I was just so damn tired.

I was dying, alone and far from home, and no one was coming to rescue me. My worst nightmare had finally come true.

Oh God, I didn’t want to die here. Where was Carter?

I felt myself slipping beneath the silver water, dragged down by my heavy boots that I really should have taken off ages ago. For a second I felt the urge to struggle, and actually tried to move my arms, only to find them no longer responding.

Icy liquid swirled around my face and into my mouth. A death I had tried to prevent for hours had finally won.

And all I could think of was the fact that Carter had promised to return, and she had lied.

…

"I see him," Colonel van Ryn snapped, shining his torch down at a distant bobbing figure. "He’s alive, I think."

Carter crawled next to van Ryn, carefully avoiding Lieutenant Peters who was knocking pitons into a firm patch of ground.

"Colonel! Jack!"

His head lifted slightly, as if wondering about the silvery water their torches bathed him in, and then he was gone, his body sliding beneath the water.

"Colonel. No"

Carter couldn’t believe it. One minute he was there, staring up at them, the next, he was gone, as if he had never been.

"Crap," van Ryn snarled. "Here, hold this."

Carter found herself in possession of two torches as van Ryn leapt into the hole, landing feet first with hardly a splash.

"Colonel?" she asked, watching van Ryn splash frantically in the water, diving again and again.

"Stay up there," he snapped, believing she was talking to him.

"Colonel," she yelled, "Go left."

She had the advantage of height, and now with Peters and De Salas adding their torches as well, she also had the advantage of light, and had seen something van Ryn hadn’t, a flash of white.

"Where?" he yelled back, splashing the water impotently.

"Ten o’clock", she yelled, using an airman’s term.

Van Ryn immediately swum slightly to his left, to a patch of water bathed in torchlight.

"Dammit Jack," he yelled again, now seeing something the others had already noticed, the pale face of his friend floating just below the surface.

A clatter told him that one of the lieutenants was on the way down with the stretcher, and he took a moment to grab for it.

"Give."

The steel in his voice made De Salas immediately let go and he hung in his harness, watching as van Ryn carefully slid the wire stretcher under the body of O’Neill.

He could see what van Ryn was doing, and it made sense. Just scoop the Colonel straight out of the water and pull him up and out, as one would do to a fish with a mesh net.

"Ready," van Ryn snapped.

Praying that Peters also understood what van Ryn wanted, De Salas waved at his companion.

"Go Pete," he yelled. "Haul him up."

To his intense relief the rope securing the stretcher immediately went taut, and O’Neill was hauled out of the water.

Van Ryn swam to the stretcher, steadying it before climbing on top of O’Neill, straddling him and starting CPR even as they were pulled up the crumbling sides of the hole.

The minute they were clear, De Salas began to frantically abseil himself, trying to climb past the massive slide of mud that poured into the hole where O’Neill had been trapped, burying it once and for all.

…

Samantha Carter had none of the skills needed to help the Colonel, and so was reduced to watching the drama playing out in the hole below her.

Biting her bottom lip, she watched as van Ryn finally found the Colonel, and then made a grab for the stretcher. She immediately saw what he was doing, and tapped lieutenant Peters on the shoulder.

He turned and nodded at her. "I’m ready when he is, maam," he said, making her sigh in relief. Then he was all action, frantically pulling the two men out, past the massive mudslide that beginning to dissolve the far side of the hole.

"Help Greg maam," Peters yelled, and she realized in horror that De Salas was still trapped below the mudslide. If she didn’t haul him up immediately, he was in trouble.

Copying Lieutenant Peter’s actions, she set to work, slowly hauling the man above the churning mud, aware that he was helping himself as well.

Finally, they were all above ground, watching numbly as tons of mud and slate filled the hole where they had recently been.

"Carter, I need your help right now," a voice snapped, making her tear her eyes away and crawl to van Ryn’s side.

"What do you need sir," she asked, trying not to look too hard at Jack.

Of course, the brief glance she had taken had been more than enough to sear his condition into her brain, making her hands shake in reaction. He was ghostly pale, body slack, and she feared he was dead.

"Hold this," he said, shoving a saline solution at her.

An incredible optimism began to warm her deep inside.

"He’s alive?" she asked, hardly daring to hope.

Van Ryn gave her a flash of warm blue eyes.

"He is so far, but the jury’s still out," he warned, hurriedly placing an oxygen mask over Jack’s nose and mouth. That done, he roughly found a vein and shoved a needle in, connecting the drip.

"I can do no more here," he said, his face drawn in obvious concern. "Let’s get him home, as quick as possible."

…

For Sam, the return trip was the longest in her life.

Lieutenant De Salas led the way, with her close behind. Behind her came van Ryn, pulling Jack across the rocky ground in his wire basket as if it were a sled.

Lieutenant Peters came last, carefully making sure they were as tethered to solid ground at all times.

Even then, the return trip was much like the trip out, full of cracking ground and dangerous holes opening up without warning. Even Jack had a close call, hanging limply from his restraining straps as they frantically hauled him out of a deep pit.

Finally, they made it back to the stargate where warm hands belonging to even warmer bodies took over.

…

I had been asleep for a long time.

I knew this even before I opened my eyes, my internal clock telling me so.

At first, all I could do was lie quietly, aware, but unable to move even a muscle. My thoughts seemed sluggish, as if I was drugged, but somehow I didn’t think I was.

Carter. Bless her.

I lay quietly, listening to the occasional clack-clack of regulation heels, straining my ears for the sound of murmured voices, but heard nothing.

"Colonel?"

The voice was smooth, urbane, and unexpected, making me catch my breath slightly.

"Is he still drugged, Doctor?" the voice asked.

"No Doctor," Fraiser answered. I felt a quick hand on my forehead, and a tug on my IV, the sharp pain making me wince.

"Colonel?" I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder, and opened my eyes.

"McKenz…ie?"

The small white-coated doctor smiled, a tender smile, not like usual at all. I guess this time I wasn’t pissing him off.

"Good, he recognizes me. That’s always good news." He leaned in close again, giving me a close up view of his nostril hairs. "Do you know where you are?"

I frowned. Maybe this was a trick question. Maybe I was at Academy General and he was trying to fool me.

"Take your time," Doc Fraiser said softly, but she looked worried.

"Infirmary?" I asked optimistically.

Her voice was like sunshine. "Well done Colonel."

McKenzie looked pleased as well, a strange sight.

"Can you give me your name, rank, and serial number?" he asked, prompting me to raise my eyebrows, blinking at him sleepily.

"Please Colonel," Fraiser said softly, when I was going to refuse. "We need to do this, to find out if you’re alright. Can you remember?"

Actually, I wasn’t too sure. I was tired, and all I wanted to do was sleep.

"Colonel?" They were both looking at me with identical concerned expressions on their faces.

Shutting my eyes briefly, I reached deep into my sluggish brain, and retrieved the information they wanted.

"O’Neill, Jonathan, Colonel…"

…

"How is he?"

Janet Fraiser looked at three pairs of concerned eyes and smiled.

"He’s going to be okay," she said, smiling as the other members of SG1 whooped in relief.

They had been camped out in the hallway for the past three days, one of them at his bedside at all times, day and night, moving only for medical procedures, where their presence was unwelcome.

"At first we were worried," she said, perching on one of the hallway chairs, "because his responses seemed sluggish, almost always an indication of some type of brain trauma, but with Doctor McKenzie’s help I was able to ascertain that his higher brain functions seem…unimpaired."

"Why would they be impaired?" Teal’c asked.

She shrugged. "Colonel O’Neill drowned."

When he lifted an eyebrow she hastened to continue.

"When enough water enters the lungs, they can no longer work effectively, and cease their operation. According to Colonel van Ryn, this is what happened to Colonel O’Neill. Luckily Zack managed to find him, and start CPR within minutes, restarting the oxygen flow before any permanent damage could be done."

"So he’s going to be okay?" Daniel asked.

"In time," she said. "He’s also recovering from a broken arm, three broken ribs, and extensive lacerations and bruising. These injuries are also contributing to his slow recovery."

"But he’ll be okay?" This time it was Sam.

"Sure," she said. "In fact, why don’t you go in and talk to him? Doctor McKenzie should be finished by now."

…

"Colonel?"

The voice was soft, almost tremulous, not the usual tone adopted by my second.

"Carter?" I dragged my eyes open, squinting in the bright light. "You okay?"

She snorted and sank into the chair that seemed to be a permanent fixture by the side of my bed. "I’m fine, sir," she said. "It’s you I’m worried about."

Blinking away the weariness, I stared hard at Carter, noticing the lines of worry that marred her face. She was content to just let me look; merely sitting silently whilst I reaffirmed that she really was okay. Finally, her eyes met mine, and the depth of guilt found there shocked me to the core.

"You had to wait for dawn," I said softly. "’Tis okay, I understand."

She sniffed, almost in tears. "I wanted to return immediately, but common sense won out. That, and your instructions."

I was having a hard time of it.

"What instructions were those?" I asked carefully.

"That if it was too dangerous to stay, I was to lead them home." Her face took on a serious air.

"It was sir. There were sinkholes all over the place, and night was falling fast. I wanted to return, but if I had, I would have been endangering not only SG1, but whomever came with us."

"So you waited for morning," I said. "Good girl." I stared at her, watching the guilt fade.

"It wasn’t a nice decision to have made," she said into the silence.

"Sometimes command is all about being a bastard," I murmured softly. "Or in your case, being a…"

"Quite," she said with a small smile.

"Daniel and Teal’c weren’t too pleased with my decision, but Colonel van Ryn backed me up, as did General Hammond."

"Good old Zacca" I said, thinking of van Ryn. "Did you know that I have seen him before?"

When she looked at me, her eyes unreadable, I explained. "I have seen him before somewhere. I just can’t remember where."

"The Air Force is a big organization," she said. "Maybe you did meet before. It’s possible."

"I wonder where?" I mused.

"Does it matter?" she asked casually. "Suffice it to say, when you needed him, he was there."

"So were you," I murmured. "I want to apologize, for doubting you."

She looked confused. "Sir?"

"For the longest time I thought you weren’t coming back, despite your promise."

She stared at me in shock, and I allowed my eyes to drift shut, listening to the familiar sounds of the infirmary.

Then I felt her hand caress my cheek, and dragged my eyes open again.

"I will always return for you," she said forcefully, her face mere inches from mine. "I promised to return, and I did."

"And if I had died?" I asked, my eyes drilling into hers.

"I thought you had," she said, her eyes turning luminous.

"Thank God you were still alive. It was close, but you survived."

"But if I hadn’t?" I asked again, needing to know. "Say Zack had gone alone, and had returned to say I had died down there. Would you…"

Her hand moved to my mouth, stopping me.

"I would still have returned," she said. "If only to bring your body home." I smelt the floral scent of her. "I promised to return, no matter what, and I always keep my promises."

"Promise to do it always, to bring me home," I said, a coil of dread curled up in my stomach. "Please. Even if I die."

Her lips brushed where her hand had been, a light contact that made me blink.

"I will always come to fetch you home," she said, her eyes steady.

"I will always come for you, no matter where in the galaxy you are, whether you breathe or not. That I promise."

"Bless you, Samantha Carter," I said, feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders.

Just then, the door opened, and the other two members of SG1 crept in, making me smile.

"Got room for two more?" Daniel asked.

My hand gently squeezed Carter’s for a second, before letting it go and facing the rest of my team.

"Always."

EINDE

BetaTested By CiGiK - Cape Town - South Africa - 27th April 2003