*Set after 'A Matter of Time'. (Season2)

"Medical emergency, coming through," I yelled, pushing the stunned personnel of both bases out of my way in my haste to get myself and my staff back down into the mountain in the quickest amount of time possible.

Finally we reached the elevator, and I viciously stabbed the button, knowing that we still had to change elevators before finally reaching the SGC and our destination, the 28th floor.

"So much for haste," I muttered, staring up at the floor indicators.

"Look on the bright side, maam," Sergeant Simms said. "Five minutes ago this trip would have taken two days to do."

I smiled slightly, nodding my agreement. Time had indeed been getting slower and slower as the black hole exerted its gravitational pull on us through the open wormhole until…

"Did the message say what had happened?" Nurse Milner asked, his dark eyes serious.

"I bet you Colonel O’Neill will be in the thick of it," Simms said gloomily before I could answer. "I bet you he’s the one we have to scrape up, again."

"I won’t take that bet," Warner said. "In fact, I agree with you." He leaned against the rear wall of the elevator before straightening again as the elevator lurched to a halt.

We dived at the SGC elevator as soon as the doors opened, Warner peeling off and heading for the stairs.

"I’ll prep for surgery," he yelled over his shoulder at me. "It’ll save time."

"Good idea," I yelled back as the doors closed.

Then we were descending again, our destination the corridor outside the gateroom.

"Maam, if you don’t mind me asking, what did the message say?" Captain Milner asked.

"Bad things," I said, watching as Simms checked our medical equipment. We had taken as much as we could carry, General Hammond promising to send more personnel and equipment as soon as he deemed it safe.

"Pardon maam?" Simms asked.

"She said that Colonel O’Neill and another Colonel called Colonel Corn something were going to attempt to shut down the gate by detonating a bomb and hopefully blowing the wormhole elsewhere. She said it was incredibly dangerous and we should come as soon as we felt a slight tremor, because there would be casualties."

"Hopefully they were successful, maam," Simms said. "Because if they weren’t, then this little elevator ride’s liable to have taken days instead of minutes."

"It sure feels like days," Miler said, staring at the indicators grimly.

"Maybe we’re fretting for nothing, cos nobody’s injured?" Sergeant Simms asked. "I mean, Colonel O’Neill is a pretty resourceful guy, if you know what I mean maam?"

I shook my head sadly, aware of both men watching me closely.

"The runner who delivered the message said that the Colonel was going to have to stand on the bomb for it to be positioned right."

"And he said ‘sure, no problem’?" Steve asked, plainly stunned. "That guy has a death wish."

"Or is incredibly brave," Sergeant Simms whispered, as the lift doors eventually opened.

…

We walked into a scene of absolute desolation.

The only thing I recognized was the stargate. Everything else was trashed, or gone. I scrunched my way across a sea of glass and computer bits, heading towards the ramp, and the crouched form of Major Samantha Carter. At first I had no idea what she was doing, them she moved slightly, exposing a huddled form. Colonel O’Neill.

"He’s loosing too much blood," I snapped, smiling gratefully at Sam as we took over. I could see what she had been trying to do, and to a certain extent her efforts had worked, but he was still loosing way too much blood, and if we weren’t quick, we would lose him.

There was no time to waste. Sam was forgotten as we went to work, Steve and I working as an efficient team, as we had over this man many times before.

Although this time was different.

We could feel it in the pulpy skin, skin that sagged in places where healthy bone should be, making Steve catch my eye for a moment, his face grim.

It was like working on a boneless rag doll instead of a human being, not a nice feeling at all.

"Major Carter says that Colonel Cornwell is dead maam," Sergeant Simms said, crouching next to me and looking sick.

"So that just leaves the Colonel?" I asked distractedly.

"What’s left of him, yes maam," Simms said quietly, helping out where he could.

We were trying desperately to stabilize Colonel O’Neill, almost operating on him in our haste to stop his blood flowing from a least a dozen different places, the worst being his neck.

"The control booth glass was sucked out," Sam said softly, noticing my puzzlement. "There was no way they could avoid the shards. Colonel Cromwell’s halter snapped and…"

She stopped, obviously overcome. I wanted to look at her, maybe offer her some words of comfort, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of Colonel O’Neill, not for a moment.

"The Colonel tried to stop him," Sam continued shakily, "but the wormhole’s gravitational pull was too strong, and he had the added effort of needing to keep the bomb rigidly still. I think Colonel Cromwell knew this as well, because," she hesitated. "I’m pretty sure he just let go."

"Oh God," I said, staring at the wreckage of the man in front of me.

"They don’t make Colonel’s by being wimps," Sergeant Milner said softly.

"No they don’t," I said equally as softly, my hands bloody and my heart broken.

"No they don’t."

…

There is nothing as disturbing as a quiet O’Neill.

In the words of Sergeant Simms, he had been scraped up and bought here, where Doctor Warner had operated on him for over four hours before pronouncing himself satisfied.

He had handled the internal injuries, like the shattered feet and broken shins, the broken ribs and the mess that had been his chest, and when he was satisfied, he gave the Colonel to me.

Steve and I then handled the obvious injuries, the cuts and bruises, and set his legs for the long process of recovery.

"Thank God for big feet and military issue boots," I muttered, "If it weren’t for them, Colonel O’Neill might have lost his feet."

"Too true," Steve answered softly, nodding at Sam and Daniel as they peered into the ICU, a stoic Teal’c hovering behind them. They could see from our masks that the Colonel still had a long road to recovery, but I took time to give them a thumbs up, seeing them sag in relief.

"You know," Steve said softly, staring down at Colonel O’Neill’s unconscious form. "Someday his luck is gonna run out." His eyes met mine, dark and serious.

"Someday. Just like that other Colonel."

I nodded. "I know that Steve," I said softly.

"So do they," I continued, nodding slightly towards the door.

"So does he."

"Then why does he do it?" Steve asked, genuinely puzzled.

I thought out my answer carefully.

"Because he can."

*EINDE

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