"Incoming traveler," Sergeant Davis’s voice yelled over the tannoy, his voice reverberating around the near empty canteen.

Jack O’Neill stared at the far wall, frowning at the square speaker mounted there. "What the hell?" he murmured, noticing the rest of his team looking as anxious as him.

He started to speak to his second in command, Major Carter, sat opposite him.

"Who’ve we got…?"

Davis’s voice interrupted him.

"Incoming traveler, SG6, Code red."

"Never mind." Jack O’Neill’s eyes flashed and he rose to his feet, his meal forgotten.

"We have a team under fire? Not good," he muttered, then made a dash for the door, the rest of his team in hot pursuit.

"Code red?" he yelled at his second, suicidally clattering down the stairs. "What were SG6 up to, and more importantly, where were they up to it?" he asked,

"They’re on PK9 F66, a supposedly friendly planet that SG6 have visited before," she yelled.

"I have no idea why they would suddenly be attacked," she continued as he slammed out of the stairwell and into the briefing room, narrowly missing running straight into the large table.

"Well, they are, and that’s not on," he said, abruptly silent as he descended the stairs into the control room.

"General?" he asked quietly, knocking on the metal railing. "Is their anything we can do to help?"

………….

General George Hammond looked up at the sharp rapping, unsurprised to see SG1. They were due to ship out in two hours, and a crisis like the one they now faced would have sent them running.

"Not really," he sighed. "SG6 were due to return from…"

"PK9 F66," O’Neill said knowledgably, startling him. "I thought that planet was meant to be friendly?"

"So did I," Hammond said, staring at the stargate where so far no incoming wormhole had established itself.

" Major Newman stated that they were under attack by the Balaxi, a warlike group from the planet’s far north. According to him, the Balaxi have more or less overridden the Brax, the friendlier natives congregated around the stargate, creating a state of anarchy. When I heard this, I ordered SG6 home. This is the result."

"The people of PK9 F66 are iXhosa," Daniel said helpfully.

"Gee, wonderful, thanks for the info," Jack said sarcastically, obviously not having a clue what an iXhosa was.

"African tribe," Daniel smirked. "Very warlike, unless you get into their good books, then you’re friends for life.

"We’re not friends yet," Hammond said, staring at the silent stargate.

He turned to Davis, who was staring at his screen glumly. "Perhaps…"

With a sudden whoosh, the wormhole opened, making him sigh in relief and reach for the mike.

"SG6, this is control. The gate is open, come on home."

For a moment, there was nothing but static, then a young voice answered.

"General, This is Lieutenant Cochran." He sounded frightened out of his wits, and from the amount of screaming heard in the background, he had reason to be.

The words came in, all jumbled together. "Major Newman is dead, sir. Colonel MacKay has been shot, but is still alive. I and Sergeant Smith, well, we’re okay so far, but are pinned down."

"You have twenty minutes ‘til the gate shuts," Hammond said grimly, trading a long look with O’Neill.

"I think we can get through okay," Cochran said doggedly. "The problem are the Balaxi . They’re liable to be so close behind us when we make a dash for it, that some might get through into the gateroom."

O’Neill leaned over to the mike. "Leave that problem to us, Cochran. You and Smithy just concentrate on getting your team back here okay."

The voice sounded calmer, as if O’Neill had taken a weight off his shoulders.

"Yes sir," he said, and the mike went dead.

"Sir?" O’Neill said, pointing at the assembled SF soldiers lying in wait in the gateroom. "Permission to…"

Hammond threw him a spare Berretta. "Be careful," he admonished his second.

The man grinned. "Aren’t I always?" he asked.

"No," George Hammond said, wishing he were twenty years younger himself.

……………

"Holy Crap," Jack O’Neill muttered ten minutes later, crouching down behind whatever cover he could find. "Hurry up, will ya?"

SG6 hadn’t yet arrived through the wormhole, although, from the amount of spears and other projectiles whizzing over their heads to impact against the far gateroom wall, they were en-route.

"Hold your fire," he snapped as one obviously green SF hefted his weapon. 

"Fire only when I tell you."

Then with a clatter, all four members of SG6 were through, closely followed by three shrieking warriors.

"Close the iris," O’Neill snapped, picking out the largest of the trio of aliens as their leader.

"We do not want to fight you," he yelled, hoping like hell they at least understood English.

For a second, the leader, a ferocious ebony skinned man with bits of bone sticking through his ears, hesitated, and then with a shriek he and his fellow warriors lunged at where Jack was hiding, only to be bought down in a fusillade of bullets.

"Hold your fire," Jack roared. "Hold your GODDAMNED fire!"

He stared, sickened, at the three crumpled figures, and shook his head, aware that Teal’c had silently joined him.

"Dammit, he whispered to the ebony skinned Jaffa. " They could have told us things. Why do we always kill what we don’t understand?"

"It is not only a Tau’ri trait, O’Neill," Teal’c said grimly.

"Unfortunately," Jack said. He crouched down besides the leader, feeling for a pulse. All three looked dead, but there was no harm in checking.

Suddenly, the leaders eyes snapped open, and he lunged at O’Neill, lightening fast, despite his wounds, grasping Jack’s face between wet sticky hands before he could move.

"Sassika ka xuhhar," he whispered, his eyes like chips of glass. "Kuha Ubila. "Sassika ka xuhhar,"

"O’Neill," Teal’c snapped taking a step towards his brother. "Move."

Only O’Neill wasn’t moving.

The savage had O’Neill’s face cupped between large hands, and seemed to be pressing with all his remaining strength, as if trying to crush O’Neill’s head, his actions literally stunning his Tau’ri friend into immobility.

Teal’c summoned up the situation in seconds, knowing that if his friend was to live, he would require an immediate reaction.

Teal’c could only see one course of action available to him that would guarantee instant success.

"Sorry my brother," he whispered, and savagely kicked O’Neill in the side.

The force of his kick literally lifted O’Neill into the air, his twisting body breaking the Balaxi’s grip, rolling O’Neill off the ramp to collapse in a heap to one side, unconscious.

A second later a well-placed bullet from a nameless SF soldier put paid to the last surviving warrior.

"Dammit…medical team to the gateroom," Hammond yelled, sickened at the carnage that now littered the gateroom floor. O’Neill still hadn’t moved, and Teal’c was crouched over him protectively as the SF’s made absolutely certain that all three warriors were dead.

Others were checking on the surviving members of SG6, helping a shocked Cochran to his feet, and waiting for the medics to arrive.

" Medical team to the gateroom," he yelled again, and then sighed in relief when Doctor Fraiser and her team ran in.

"The soul destroyer will get you."

"What?" General Hammond turned to find a pensive Daniel standing next to him, watching as the paramedics strapped O’Neill onto a gurney in preparation to transporting him to the infirmary.

"The soul destroyer will get you. That is in essence what that man was saying to Jack before trying to kill him." He turned to Hammond, his face serious. "Did you notice how Jack didn’t struggle when the man gripped his face? He just crouched there, his hands by his sides. I think that if we ask Jack what happened, he won’t have a clue."

Hammond frowned, staring at the younger man.

"What do you mean, Jackson?" he asked.

Daniel Jackson knew he was going out on a limb, but he had seen, or read something about a soul destroyer before. Somewhere.

"I believe he was hypnotized into complete immobility."

Hammond shook his head slowly. "Okay," he said. "Assuming you are correct in this, why?"

Jackson shrugged. " I don’t know. To kill him at leisure perhaps?"

He looked on helplessly as the paramedics slowly cleared the gateroom. "I know about the soul destroyer," he volunteered reluctantly.

When Sam made to speak, he held up his hand. "To be more accurate, I have read of such a thing, a long time ago. It is meant to be a demon that leaps from body to body."

He laughed self depreciatingly at their skeptical expressions. "I know, it doesn’t seem likely in this day and age, but you all saw his actions when that man grabbed him. He didn’t struggle at all. The Jack I know would have thrown him into the nearest wall, had he been able to."

"Let Doctor Fraiser check him out thoroughly," General Hammond said.

"You in the meantime can find out all you can on this soul destroyer. It maybe the reason why the Brax have been conquered on that planet." He sighed frustratedly, watching as a cleanup detail washed away the blood. "Whatever the reason is, we had better find it fast. We have a trade agreement with them, and as long as the Balaxi are in control of the gate, we cannot mine trinium."

………….

"How are you feeling?"

Jack O’Neill frowned, feeling lost.

His face hurt, his ribs hurt, and for the life of him, he hadn’t a clue why.

"What happened?" he asked. "Why am I in the infirmary?" He rubbed his cheeks, feeling the pain. "Doc?"

The concerned features of Doctor Janet Fraiser swam into view.

"Don’t you remember?"

He shook his head, and tried to roll off the bed, only to desist with a moan.

"No," he said irritably. "The last thing I remember was sitting in the canteen eating mystery meat." He hesitated, thinking hard.

"The alarms went off for…something."

His voice trailed off and he blinked up at her.

"What the hell happened, doc?"

She smiled and poured him a glass of water.

"Teal’c can tell you," she said softly, moving off.

"SG6 came back through the wormhole from PK9 F66," a deep voice said from next to him and Teal’c came into view. "They were attacked by savages from the planet, three of which managed to return to the SGC with them."

"Oh crap," Jack whispered, not recalling a thing.

"One of these savages attacked you," Teal’c continued dispassionately. "In order to save your life, I kicked you in the ribs, rolling you away from your assailant, thus allowing the assembled guards to dispatch him to his afterlife."

Jack blinked up dazedly, trying to recall something, but there was nothing. It was as if someone had scooped out an entire section of his memories. He was aware of the rest of SG1 lurking at the door and waved them in.

"Did you see this savage attack me?" he asked irritably.

Daniel nodded soberly. "The iXhosa warrior?" Yes."

Jack’s eyebrows rose. "How come I don’t recall this?"

Daniel smiled grimly. "This just proves my theory. You were hypnotized."

"Oh wonderful," Jack said sarcastically. "That I don’t believe."

"I think it could be true sir," Carter said, her face concerned. "One of the warriors had your head in a vice-like grip, obviously trying to kill you, and you didn’t struggle at all."

Daniel nodded. You just crouched there, passively. The man was trying to kill you, and you did nothing."

"And he’s still doing nothing," a Fraiser called, seeing the distress on her patients face. "He’s battered and bruised and needs rest."

Daniel immediately protested.

"But I want to tell him about the soul destroyer."

He looked at Jack imploringly "The warrior warned you about the soul destroyer. He told you to beware."

Jack looked bewildered. "How can I beware of something I can’t even recall?" he asked. "What is it anyway?"

Daniel shook his head. "I haven’t a clue, but I’m working on it."

Jack sighed sleepily, feeling incredibly lethargic. "Tell you what, you work on it. Let me get some sleep, and give me the results tomorrow. Okay?"

He brandished a finger at the linguist when Daniel nodded. "But no working on this until the early hours of the morning, you hear? It can wait."

Daniel nodded sulkily. "Yes sir Colonel sir," he muttered, heading for the door.

…………………

SG1’s usual table in the canteen was loaded down with books the following morning as Daniel attempted to prove his point.

Jack, of course, wasn’t buying any of it.

"So a spirit gets released from one person to another by means of a curse? Yeah, right." O’Neill pushed away his untouched breakfast and stared at Doctor Jackson balefully.

"Luckily I believe all that myths and legends are all hearsay, not based on fact, or I would be seriously worried."

"Jack," Daniel wailed, although they had had this conversation before.

"Just think about it for a moment, will you?" He leaned forwards, almost quivering in his intensity to prove his point to his thick-skinned friend.

"This person grabbed your head, hard. He whispered that the soul destroyer is going to get you, and you don’t remember a thing. Surely…."

"Ah!" O’Neill raised a finger. "No Daniel. This is a better explanation." He took a sip of cold coffee and straightened in his chair.

"As you recall, we returned a week ago from PJ7 H4G. As you further recall, I suffered from sniffles and headaches the whole trip." He glared at the linguist. "I assume you recall this?" he asked sarcastically.

Daniel nodded reluctantly. "We assumed you had a cold."

Jack nodded emphatically. "Janet concurs. I have a cold, well, had. I’m mostly over it now, thanks for asking. What Fraiser thinks is that I had a relapse. Nausea or something stopped me from defending myself."

Daniel was shaking his head dubiously. "What I saw wasn’t…"

"I have seen the tape Danny, and I agree with Doc Fraiser. I was ill. The last vestiges of a nasty cold. Had I been in my right mind, that savage would have been dead. Thankfully, Teal’c’s actions saved my life, and the baddie was shot. End of story."

"But…" Daniel tried again, only to have Jack smile at him grimly. "There is no such thing as a soul destroyer, Daniel."

"Then why do you look as if you didn’t sleep last night?" Daniel asked, regarding his pasty-faced friend critically.

Jack laughed. "You try to sleep in the infirmary with bruised ribs," he said ruefully.

"Tell you what, our mission to V98 yadda yadda yadda has been delayed to 19H00 tonight. I’ll catch up on some sleep between now and then, so I should be rested and refreshed by the time we leave, okay?"

"You sure?" Daniel asked doubtfully.

"I’m sure," Jack said rising gingerly in search of more coffee.

……..

Jack was staring blankly at the wall when the rest of SG1 joined him that evening.

Daniel, the first to arrive, too one look at him and sank into the chair opposite with an oath.

"Jack, you look like shit. Didn’t you sleep?"

O’Neill regarded his friend with heavy eyes. "I feel like shit too," he said softly. "And the answer is no." He shook his head carefully. "I can’t sleep. When I try, I get these weird images in my head."

He was extremely pale with deep hollows under his eyes, making Daniel grimace in sympathy.

"Sir, I think we had better scrub our mission to PA4 H67," Carter said, coming to a halt next to him, Teal’c standing like a shadow besides her. "The only place you should visit is the infirmary."

For a moment, he hesitated, pride warring against common sense, and then nodded ruefully.

"I guess you’re right," he said. He pushed himself away from the table and rose to his feet, only to sway alarmingly.

Teal’c was at his side instantly, propping him up, making him laugh harshly.

"I feel like an idiot."

"You do not," Teal’c said, cracking a rare joke. "You feel like an adult Tau’ri." His eyes turned serious. "One I would be honored to escort to the infirmary, if he would allow me to do so."

"He has no choice," Daniel muttered, taking Jack’s other arm.

"I’ll inform General Hammond as to what is happening and meet you in the infirmary," Sam said, racing past them.

…….

"Say 'aah'," Janet Fraiser said half an hour later, knowing that her patient would say nothing of the kind. Nevertheless, the inarticulate grunt O’Neill did make was sufficient for her to complete her examination.

"Lay back for a while," she commanded, pleased to see her latest patient obey without a murmur of protest.

"What’s wrong with me, Doc?" O’Neill asked, looking sickly pale against the white pillows behind his head.

"Ordinarily I would say that your cold has progressed to full blown influenza, which it has, but there are also some unusual symptoms present that I’m unhappy about."

She smiled at the look he gave her. "Actually, I’m not really that surprised," she said. "You have been to so many worlds and been exposed to so many alien cultures that something like this was bound to happen sooner or later."

She beckoned to a nurse. "Tell you what. Let’s get you settled for the night. I should have more thorough results in an hour or so when your blood work comes back."

He nodded wearily. "Okay," he said, worrying her.

If Jack O’Neill, the No 1 scourge of the SGC nurses, was obeying without a murmur, then he was sicker than he looked, and he looked terrible.

………..

It was in the early hours of the morning when Jack O’Neill next awoke, to find himself in isolation.

"What the?"

A nurse was instantly at his side, shushing him quietly as she wiped the sweat from his psychedelic nightmare from his brow.

"Oh God," he muttered quietly suddenly aware of his surroundings. Iso-room one. What in the hell had he contracted?

Slowly he lay back and stared at the ceiling, tiny bits and pieces of his dream slowly coming back to him.

He remembered the man’s face now, his eyes boring into his own, turning his body into water.

He remembered, and shuddered.

Something was wrong with him, deep down. He could feel it, and it was more than a bad dose of flu.

Unbidden, Daniel’s lecture on the soul destroyer came to mind, making him grimace.

Deep in the dark of night, sick and feverish, what Daniel had said made perfect sense.

He had attracted the attention of the soul destroyer, and he needed help.

………..

The phone call just after two in the morning came as no surprise to father Joe. He had gotten used to his parishioners phoning him for all manners of help at all times of the day and night, spiritual and medical, and as a consequence wasn’t annoyed to be woken from a sound sleep.

Much.

"I’m getting too old for this," he muttered, reaching for the phone.

"Father Joe at your service," he said pleasantly.

For a moment, there was silence, as if the caller was in two minds as to whether to speak or not. Then the last voice he would expect to hear spoke.

"Joe?"

"Jack?"

Joe felt his heart plummet. His brother Jack would never phone unless he was in severe trouble, or pain.

"What’s wrong?" Joe asked, all traces of sleep disappearing.

For a while it seemed that Jack was not going to answer, then his brother gave a self-depreciating laugh.

"Hopefully just the flu. I’m being stupid. I just…"

"Phoned me at 2 O’clock in the morning just to tell me you’re feeling unwell?" Joe asked gently.

"I’m being stupid," Jack said again.

"Are you on the base?" Joe asked, hearing familiar noises in the background.

Jack sighed deeply.

"Ah yes. I escaped from the infirmary. Well, another part of the infirmary."

Joe’s breath caught.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I guess," Jack said hollowly.

"And that means?" Joe asked patiently, gripping the receiver tightly to his ear.

"I have a weird strain of flu," Jack said reluctantly. "I think. I’m just… I just want to see you."

Joe felt cold.

"When are you visiting us again?" Jack asked hoarsely, small traces of the Colonel he was appearing in his voice.

"Tomorrow if you like," Joe said. Father Aldridge was young and resilient enough to take over at a moments notice.

"I like," Jack said, relief evident in his voice.

Joe shook his head slowly, fear coiling in his gut.

Something was terribly wrong.

Jack almost never phoned him, and when he did, it was never at night.

"I’ll take the first available flight in the morning," Joe volunteered.

"I’ll have a plane ready for you at 07H00," Jack overruled.

"I can take commercial," Joe protested. He hated being treated like a VIP.

"I know," Jack said. "But commercial is too slow."

………..

Jack carefully replaced his phone, hunched up, feeling cold in his office chair. It wouldn’t take long before the nurse he had sent to fetch Doc Fraiser returned and both woman found out he was gone, but he could make good use of his time until they found him.

Gritting his teeth at his trembling weakness, he reached for the phone again. If he wanted Joe here, arrangements had to be made.

………

"What’s wrong?"

Sam, Daniel, and Teal’c had reacted instantly to Janet’s urgent summons, despite it being the early hours of the morning.

"Is it Jack?" Sam asked, knowing that it would have to be. He had been taken into isolation an hour after being examined, concerning them greatly, despite Janet’s reassurances that it was only a precaution.

Janet’s face was grim. "He’s missing."

They all stared at her, waiting for more.

"He sent nurse McCall to fetch me, and escaped the minute she left."

Daniel grinned, despite his weariness. "That sounds like Jack."

Teal’c nodded, agreeing.

"The problem is this," Fraiser continued. "Colonel O’Neill has contracted an unknown virus, which is using his influenza to rapidly move through his body."

She shook her head slowly, looking worried, and led them into her office.

"From what we know, it doesn’t seem to be contagious, although the influenza is, hence the caution. What this virus is doing to him we’re still not too sure yet, but I do know this," she fixed them all with a steely glare, "he is in no condition to be traipsing around this base."

"He’ll be in one of three places," Sam said, taking over, her heart feeling like lead. "The gateroom, his office, or the canteen."

"If he’s as sick as Janet says," Daniel said thoughtfully, then we can scratch the canteen, and General Hammond is sure to be close to the gateroom."

"Which leaves his office," Janet said, motioning to her nurses. "Let’s go."

……..

Joe was coming.

Jack sat slumped in his chair and blinked the sweat out of his eyes, wondering what was wrong with him. Like everyone, he had the flu before, but never before had it seemed so…bad.

He felt like he was looking through a dark tunnel, his peripheral vision totally destroyed, and wondered if maybe he was dying.

The phone was right there, on his desk. Ideally he should call Doc Fraiser, tell her where he was, just in case he was dying.

Damn, this was no flu. The flu didn’t make your heart race like his was doing.

Slowly he leaned back, taking slow deep breaths, feeling the tightness in his chest.

He should have stayed where he was, where they would have seen his distress and done something about it, instead of sneaking out to find a phone, like a small boy playing hooky from school.

But then, Joe would have come too late. The soul destroyer would have won.

He smiled up at the ceiling, a humorless twist of the lips seen by no one. He remembered now.

He remembered everything. The downed man, his blood slick on the gateroom floor, he leaning forwards, checking for signs of life, even though he doubted any existed.

Then the man, that warrior, convulsing forwards, his actions unclear until it was too late.

He remembered the pain now, the unusual burning sensation, and the horror of knowing that he was being poisoned, and helpless to prevent it.

……

"O’Neill?" His door crashed open, Teal’c not bothering to open it first, and his team rushed in.

"Colonel?"

"I’m okay," he whispered, seeing their anxious faces crowd around him.

Suddenly it was quiet, his team gone. No, there they were, pressed against the wall, allowing Janet room.

"Poisoned."

For a moment, it seemed that his whispered revelation would have been in vain, and then Teal’c stepped forwards.

"Who has been poisoned, O’Neill? You?"

Jack nodded, his eyes dark pools of pain in a translucent face.

"Yes," he said.

His eyes fastened on a figure beyond Teal’c, on Daniel, praying the man would understand.

"Soul destroyer, poison."

He reached up and grabbed Teal’c’s hand, panting hard, trying to get the words out.

"Here." He patted Teal’c’s palm. "I remember now."

Teal’c nodded in understanding, his face tormented. "The savage, his hands were covered in poison?"

Jack nodded. "Yes," he muttered. "Soul destroyer." His eyes suddenly opened, fixing Daniel with a steely gaze. "Joe’s coming."

"Here?" Daniel asked. "When?"

But Jack had succumbed to the darkness.

"Thank God for cell phones," Daniel muttered.

……….

Two hours later found an exhausted Fraiser and Carter gathered outside iso-ward 1, briefing General Hammond.

"What did the autopsy show? Are there traces of poison on that mans hands?" he asked, looking at both woman.

"More importantly, can we synthesize a cure?"

Fraiser shrugged her shoulders, looking grim.

"No. The bodies were shipped to area 51. Now they seem to be missing."

Hammond ground his teeth.

"NID?"

Major Carter nodded; looking the gravest that he had ever seen her.

"More than likely. They insist the bodies were cremated as a security risk." She shook her head sadly.

"Even if they are lying, even if the bodies are lying refrigerated in some warehouse there, we quite simply don’t have the time to go there and see."

She nodded at the still figure lying on a bed. "The Colonel just doesn’t have the luxury of time on his side."

"How long does he have?" Hammond asked, dreading the answer.

"A day, maybe two," Fraiser answered. "The virus, or deliberately induced poison, has attached itself to the influenza strain present in his body, rapidly weakening his system whilst symptomatically attacking the lungs."

Hammond grunted. "What would have happened if Colonel O’Neill had been perfectly healthy?"

Fraiser shrugged. "I have no idea," she said softly. "Perhaps nothing. All I know is that for Colonel O’Neill to survive, we have got to find a cure." She faced him full on. "I have done all that I can here, General. The virus is unknown to me, meaning that we have no way of curing him here."

"However, there may be a cure on the planet, and if there is but one slight chance…"

General Hammond nodded, his decision made hours ago.

"The MALP has returned from PK9 F66 without incident," he said. "This does not mean that the planet is by any means safe, but I am willing to send through SG2 in the hopes that they can find some friendlies and obtain a cure in the time we have left."

The smiles he got from both women curled his toes.

"I need to go…"

He held up his hand, forestalling them.

"Meet SG2 in the gateroom in ten minutes."

………..

Father Joe O’Neill’s head was still spinning.

Over the years, he had sat back and watched his brother rise through the ranks of the Air Force hierarchy with a sense of bemusement. He had gone from a rebellious teen with a massive chip on his shoulder to finally become a seasoned veteran, confident in himself and his command of his men.

That had been partly due to his team SG1, a group of people who had helped him heal his heart after the death of his son. A team that father Joseph O’Neill always kept in his prayers, knowing that the shiny tempered blade that his brother had become could very easily bend and shatter if one of his new family were lost.

Hopefully not, but then, he always felt that a few prayers never harmed anyone.

Of course, there were also unexpected spin offs to having a high ranking brother, like the personal jet ride, something he had enjoyed immensely, and would like to tell his brother about, assuming he survived the trip from the plane to God know where they were going next.

"Airman," he said quietly to the young man, seemingly hell bent on killing them both. "If you wish to fly, the jet is right behind you."

His driver grinned at him for a moment before going back to suicidally navigating the massive runway.

"Sorry sir. Orders from on high. Not that high," he hastily amended, seeing Joe’s collar. "Just a General."

"Hammond?" Joe asked, a tendril of fear curling in his gut.

The Airman didn’t answer, merely screeching to a halt next to a helicopter with a familiar person leaning out the door.

"Joe."

"Daniel?"

A brown hand took his and he was yanked on board.

"Teal’c?"

The large Jaffa inclined his head. "Joe, kin O’Neill, I bid you welcome. I only wish the situation of your visit was not so dire."

Now Joe was really worried.

"Daniel?" he asked. "What’s wrong?"

"It’s Jack," Daniel said, casting a long look at the pilot. "He’s very ill."

"I knew it," Joe breathed. "There had to be a reason for him to phone me at whatever time of the morning."

He didn’t bother asking where they were going, that was obvious. The use of a helicopter to get him there, however, was an ominous sign.

He dearly wanted to ask what had happened, but knew that he couldn’t. Almost a year of being the base’s locum Catholic priest had told him one thing; to speak of the SGC outside the Mountain was high treason. No wonder Jack had joked that he would have to kill anyone he told.

He really hadn’t been kidding.

Finally, the helicopter clattered down on top of the Mountain and they took off running.

………

Joe was here.

Jack looked up at where he knew the distant glass observation booth was, knowing somehow that his brother was standing there, along with Daniel, General Hammond and Teal’c.

He didn’t know how he knew.

He just knew.

"Joe?" He reached out a hand blindly, before allowing it to thump to the bed. "Joe?"

"Oh holy Mary, mother of God," Joe mumbled, aghast. "What have they done to him?"

He took a step forwards and pressed his hands to the cool glass, watching the motionless figure on the bed.

"What has happened to my brother?"

Jack had always been the vibrant one, never still, even when they were little and he had been commanded to do so, he couldn’t stop moving.

Fidgeting, they had called it then, and he had been beaten for it, again and again, all his teenage life, people taking his tiny movements as a sign of insolence, worthy of punishment.

His brother’s abuse had finally sent Joe to find consolation in the church, and after much angst, Jack had found the military, but still, the movements had continued.

Joe had come to realize that the restlessness was part of who Jack was, which is why seeing him awake, but deathly still, was almost more than Joe could bear.

"Oh Jack," he breathed. "Dear God in heaven above."

Jack was alone in a bed in a large empty room, surrounded by machines, making him look small and insignificant. For Joe, whom had never seen his older brother as anything but a strong person, it totally traumatic.

"He has an alien virus in his system," Daniel said softly, his eyes moist. "Sam and Janet have gone back to the planet in the hopes of finding a cure.

"In time?" Joe whispered, half to himself.

"Excuse me?" Hammond asked, his face showing the first ravages of grief.

"Will they return in time?" Joe repeated, turning to face the man. "Look at Jack. He’s dying." He took a deep shuddering breath, appalled by his own revelation.

Hammond merely shook his head, speechless.

"George," Joe said, gripping the older man by a shoulder. "I need to be there for him. Just in case they don’t…" he swallowed a large lump in his throat and tried again.

"If you believe there is any chance that Janet and Sam won’t return in time, then I would like…" His voice trailed off, and he blinked rapidly.

George Hammond nodded, feeling numb. "I’ll see to it personally," he whispered, and left them to their misery.

"What happened?" Joe asked eventually, leaning his head against the glass.

"It is a virus," Daniel said. He laughed hollowly. "SG6 were attacked on PK9 F66, and a couple of their assailants managed to come through to here before they shut the iris."

"Jack…"" His voice broke for a moment. "Jack went to help, and one of the people somehow managed to poison him."

He shrugged, looking distraught. "We didn’t realize what had happened at first, even Jack. I put it down to a curse."

"What curse?" Joe asked quietly.

"The one who attacked him was muttering about passing on the soul destroyer."

"Dear God." Joe was trying valiantly to understand. "The soul destroyer?"

Joe stared at Daniel and Teal’c, horrified. "The Devil?"

"That is indeed one way of paraphrasing what O’Neill is going through," Teal’c answered, his deep voice making them jump.

"DoctorJackson insisted that O’Neill had been cursed. O’Neill on the other hand insisted that he was merely sick."

"He didn’t realize how true that was," Daniel moaned softly. "Janet and Sam have been gone for hours now, and Teal’c and I…" He gulped as tears began to flow.

"All I can do is stand here and listen to his breathing," he said in a raw voice.

"All I can do is stand here and listen to him die."

Joe took a deep breath, steeling himself, withdrawing slightly from Daniel.

"How long does he have?"

"Nurse Milner says hours at most," Teal’c said soberly.

"And there is no cure?" Joe asked.

"For a virus?" Daniel shook his head negatively.

"We have a really lousy track record when it comes to them."

"The Tok’ra may be able to help," Teal’c said quietly, desperation now evident in his voice.

"He would not want that," Joe said firmly, pleased to see Daniel nodding in agreement.

"I concur," Teal’c said eventually, schooling his face back into his impassive mask. "He has on many occasions told me just this. My desire to save his life made me speak impetuously. I apologize."

Joe’s gasp was closely followed by Daniel’s.

"Dear heavens, never apologize for wanting to save someone’s life," Joe said softly, aware that George Hammond was waiting patiently for him.

He ruthlessly suppressed his familial feelings for Jack and walked to the door, praying that he could keep up the pretense of being just a Catholic priest.

"Now, allow me time with Jack." His eyes caught Daniel’s, wincing in the deep sadness he saw there. "Please," he begged.

Daniel nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Teal’c and I, we’ll… be waiting besides the Stargate for when…so there’s no delay."

"Thank you Daniel," Joe said, and turned to Hammond.

"George?"

Hammond pointed to a brown haired man in his forties. "Captain Milner here believes that you’ll be okay with just a mask and latex gloves," he said gruffly. He hesitated, and then took a deep breath.

"I have to do this," Joe said gently, knowing what Jack’s superior was going to ask. "The last rights are very important for us."

"But he isn’t dead yet," George whispered, his iron composure slipping for a moment, showing the grief tightly bottled up inside.

"And hopefully, if God is truly merciful, Sam and Janet will come screaming through that stargate and he doesn’t die at all," Joe whispered back. "But just in case…"

George the friend stepped back and became George the General.

"Go ahead, father O’Neill," he said, motioning to Captain Milner.

………..

Lights, heat, darkness followed by more light. Jack O’Neill moaned, trying to make sense of his warm world and failing miserably.

He was dying, just like he prophesized. Daniel had been right; the soul destroyer had him.

No, wait. He was not dead yet. As long as he still breathed…

He smiled thinly as consciousness returned, hearing the shallow breaths he took, getting shallower by the minute. As long as he still breathed.

Yeah right.

"God be with you Jack."

Someone was…holding him. Joe. Joe was holding his arm, his hand a spot of delicious coolness, fading now.

"Oh Jack."

The voice was quiet, yet so achingly familiar.

"J..Joe?" Speaking took up so much precious air.

"I’m here," the quiet voice said.

"You came?"

Jack tried to open his eyes, to focus on his brother, and failed.

"Joe?" he said, a tiny hint of strength in his voice making his brother groan.

"They aren’t coming. Please. Please do it. Now."

Tears streaming down his face, Joe picked up his bible, the one in dyed orange calfskin that Jack got for him decades ago as a joke, and slowly began to read.

…….

"Incoming traveler," Sergeant Davis suddenly blurted, almost falling out of his chair as the first chevron locked.

"INCOMING TRAVELLER!" he screamed, uncaring if the whole base heard him. It was them, he knew it.

No teams were due back yet, and if the Gou’ald had decided to pick this precise moment to dial the SGC, well, it would just be too bad. For the snakeheads that is.

"Incomin…SG2 ID confirmed," he snapped. "Opening iris," he yelled, even though he had not the authority to give that order. He sat alone in the control booth and watched the event horizon form into a bright blue pool.

"Please…please God," he murmured, unaware that he was still sat in front of a live microphone, his voice conveyed to all sections of Cheyenne Mountain.

For a moment, nothing happened, then six human forms were through, two of them taking off at a dead run, Teal’c and Dr Jackson in hot pursuit.

"Major Carter and Doctor Fraiser en-route," Davis sang out happily, before collapsing back in his chair with a relieved sigh.

…….

Doctor Janet Fraiser ran wildly through the corridors of the SGC, her precious bundle clutched to her breast. Word had gone out, and nobody stood in her way.

Finding a cure had been easy, the peaceful Brax had been more than happy to take them to their Sangoma, who had a cure for what was for him a very common poison.

Getting back to the stargate had proven to be another matter entirely. Waves and waves of screaming Balaxi warriors had stood in their path, preventing them and SG2 from ever reaching the gate. Just when they were all beginning to despair ever getting back to Colonel O’Neill in time, the peaceful Brax had finally retaliated.

Dodging and ducking what seemed to be a full-scale civil war, SG2 had finally reached the gate, and dialed home.

………….

Joe stood next to his brother, eyes tightly shut in prayer, listening as Jack’s labored breaths slowed, and finally stopped.

An alarm immediately started to wail stridently, only to be snapped off by that discreet male nurse, plunging them into silence.

"Oh Jack," Joe said, staring into his brother’s half open sunken eyes, the tears streaming down his face. "Find peace,"

Laying down his bible, Joe reached for Jack’s eyes, intending shutting them for the last time, only to be stopped by a furious scream.

"Joe!"

Out of seemingly nowhere, a blonde missile flung him away from Jack where he slumped to the floor, watching stunned as Janet and others immediately started to work on his brother.

"How long?" Frasier snapped at Milner.

"Less than a minute," he snapped back, his hands a whirl of professional competence as she injected a dark brown liquid into Colonel O’Neill’s IV.

"Thank God," she said fervently, unaware that the traumatized man sitting on the floor heartfeltly echoed her sentiments.

"Now we pray that this stuff works," she muttered, taking a step back and watching her staff.

"I can help there," Joe said in a shaky voice, allowing Sam to help him to his feet.

"Believe me, I can help there."

…………..

"Dying isn’t so bad," Jack said, two days later.

He was sat upright in bed. Under no circumstances could it be said that he was completely well, what with the bruises under his eyes and hollow cheeks, but he was sure that he was feeling a lot better than his brother was.

"And why is that?" Daniel asked, sat on one of the uncomfortable chairs next to his bed.

"It’s peaceful," Jack said thoughtfully. His eyes met Joe’s, brown eyes meeting hazel.

"Nothing mattered anymore. I found myself walking down a road, or, well, a tunnel maybe, and I wasn’t worried. All I felt was this incredible peace."

Sam Carter leant forwards in her chair, her face intent.

"Would you say that was a near death experience?" she asked softly.

O’Neill shrugged, the soldier persona missing for once, making him seem as vulnerable as Daniel, or Joe.

"I guess I would," he said so quietly that they all strained to hear him. "I was at peace, and knew that Joe had given me last rites, so for the first time in my life…or my death," he said with a small smile, "for the first time ever, I was prepared to move on."

"And now?" Daniel asked, his eyes shining.

"Now I have another chance, thanks to Doc and Carter here," Jack said with a smile. "I don’t resent what they did, not at all. They have given me another chance at life, and I am so grateful for that."

"That’s wonderful," Joe said smiling. "After thinking I had lost you, I pleased to see that you have a new appreciation on life." He reached out, and the two brothers clasped hands, an unspoken word of thanks passing between them.

"Now, I…watchoo!"

Joe sat back down in his seat, looking miserable, aware of Janet heading his way.

"I told you she would be after you," Jack said comfortably, smiling as his team scattered and headed for the door.

"Joe O’Neill," her angry voice said. "Influenza is not something to be trifled with." She pointed to the empty bed next to Jack’s. "Get back in there, and stay there until I tell you otherwise."

EINDE

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