Reading Time: 110 Minutes
Title: The Last Strawberry You’ll Ever Eat
Author: SASundance
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Kid!fic, Science Fiction
Relationship(s): Gen
Content Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Major Character Death. Alien Abduction; Temporary minor character death; Grief, and loss of a child through gun violence; discussions of canonical elements of slavery, genocide and rape: discussions canonical element of ethical issues of child autonomy and abuse; mild character bashing
Author Note: British spelling and grammar. Big shoutout to my Beta, who was operating under huge impediments. TWBMW <3
Beta: Aussiefan70
Word Count: 113,104
Summary: Dr Janet Fraiser, CMO of Stargate Command, greatly respects her superior officers, General George Hammond and Colonel Jack O’Neill. But they’re all facing a huge challenge over which option to take to repair the dying Reetou Charlie’s poorly cloned body. Will she have to overrule the two highest-ranked officers on the base?
Artist: CoCo
Artist Appreciation: Thanks so much, Coco. Loved your images that have brought the story to life.
Chapter 10: The Only Moment of Our Life
“Each moment is just what it is. It might be the only moment of our life; it might be the only strawberry we’ll ever eat. We could get depressed about it, or we could finally appreciate it and delight in the preciousness of every single moment of our life.” ~ Pema Chodron
Day three at Jack’s cabin:
The rest of their first snow day at Jack’s cabin passed by without incident, although the next morning, Charlie complained of not sleeping well, having been woken by a grey Oompa Loompa several times. His son seemed quite clingy, and Jack put it down to a childhood nightmare since, that first evening after the snowstorm hit, he wanted to watch one of the movies Cassie Fraiser had sent along. He was a bit dubious about its appropriateness since he wasn’t sure how much of the story Charlie would understand. Not because there was anything wrong with his intelligence, just that the subject matter was so far outside his realm of experience, coming as he did from Retalia.
However, since Cassie told Charlie it was one of her favourite movies, and it was all about a boy like him called Charlie Bucket – well, of course, he wanted to see it. Jack had suggested they watch The Lion King instead, as the animated movie about animals seemed like a far better choice for a kid who’d been created in a lab by alien insect-like creatures. But when he’d pleaded with Jack to watch Cassie’s favourite movie, Jack didn’t have it in him to be a wet blanket, so against his better judgement, they watched the classic movie. It was based on the Roald Dahl children’s book, and Charlie seemed charmed by the story at the time. He was very intrigued by the orange Oompa Loompas and seemed quite disappointed when Jack informed him that they were made up.
Anyway, when Charlie complained about the grey Oompa Loompa waking him up, Jack cursed himself inwardly for not trusting his paternal instinct. He should have found something with less florid imagery for his son to watch before bedtime. Putting it down to nightmares, he told Charlie he should have come and woken him up, only for the boy to shoot him a wounded look and insist he tried to, but Jack wasn’t in the cabin.
Which wasn’t true, as the snowstorm was still raging outside. So where would he go? Still, he knew better than anyone how vivid dreams could be, so he didn’t try to explain. Their time together was limited and was far too precious to waste on stuff that didn’t matter.
Oh, sure, if Charlie had a normal life expectancy rather than the bleak reality that he had, at best, a couple of weeks to live, he would have explained the whole dream and nightmare phenomenon. Plus, he vividly remembered his first son going through a phase where he saw monsters everywhere, including a couple of really scary, slimy green ones that lived under his bed; although obviously, Charlie had been quite a bit younger at the time. Still, the whole age thing was moot because this Charlie was only a few months old, even if his age had been deliberately accelerated, aging him physically and mentally, but maybe not emotionally.
Comparing him to other kids, his supposed physical age was like comparing apples to oranges. The bottom line was Jack chose to try to distract him rather than explain why his fears were groundless since time was the enemy (not grey Oompa Loompas), and was barrelling down on them relentlessly, like a runaway train.
Painfully, it was becoming ever more obvious to Jack, since arriving at his grandfather’s cabin almost two days ago, that the two-week time frame Janet had initially given before Charlie’s organs ceased working was wildly optimistic. He guesstimated that, best-case scenario, they might have a week at the cabin, seeing the brave kid’s strength seep away before his eyes. As Charlie grew weaker, it was heartbreaking, but Jack was determined to focus on the here and now – for that was all they had – and he refused to waste even a second of it. They probably had only had a handful of days to cram a lifetime of wondrous experiences and memories into their too-short time together.
Therefore, regrets and getting pissed off at the shitty hand which fate had dealt Charlie must wait until later.
Jack was a pragmatist – he knew that after his second son passed away, he was facing a huge emotional reckoning that would include a torrid self-examination of whether he had done the right thing vis-à-vis nixing the Tok’ra symbiote plan. Although in the deepest depths of his psyche, he knew that even if he hadn’t called off the well-meaning but ultimately ill-thought-out plan of Jacob and Selmak, Janet Fraiser would have vetoed it. Still, putting aside the thorny issue of choosing death for his son over a life living as a host, not to mention just how much informed consent a child of indeterminate age (like Charlie) was capable of providing, the elephant in the room over not informing his former wife know about the existence of a cloned child of her dead son was bothering him more than he expected.
He stood by the decision he took, honouring Charlie’s relationship with the only mother he knew, who died in front of him. Yet Sara wouldn’t see it that way if she knew. Jack had a feeling his difficult choice would always haunt him because he was forced to make an impossible choice. Some might even say it was karma for his removing himself from his marriage after the first Charlie died, and this nightmare was his punishment. Except, he didn’t believe karma would deliver retribution by harming an innocent child, but still it sucked because there was no way to do what was right for both Sara and Charlie.
However, as a highly trained and somewhat jaded special forces operative, impossible decisions had to be made, and Jack knew that they had to stick to the plan and leave the analysis and second-guessing to later. Otherwise, he would be wasting the precious gift of time by not living it to the full, and a betrayal of Charlie’s wishes – so navel gazing wasn’t an option! It was what it was – his son had no say in his creation, nor did Jack or Sara; it had been pure pragmatism that he’d been cloned, even if the goal was for the greater good of the Reetou and humans of the galaxy.
So no matter how justified or natural it was to feel anger at the injustice, Jack had vowed not to let his son’s life and sacrifice be mired in his anger (or Sara’s), No, there would be plenty of time later to indulge in the inevitable breast-beating…but fuck, it was so hard honouring that pledge when he was alone and Charlie was sleeping! When he was alone and struggling, he really wished Janet and Cassie were here with them. The Napoleonic power monger would kick his butt and stop him second guessing himself, and he had to constantly fight his instincts to pick up the phone and ask them to come to Minnesota.
As the constant urge grew stronger, he kept reminding himself of a quote by Pema Chodron (formerly Dierdre Blomfield-Brown), an American Buddhist nun. He’d begun reading her books after he returned from Abydos, a mission he’d only agreed to lead because he felt certain when he went that it was a suicide mission, and General West as good as said so. He might not have been able to actively commit suicide, perhaps due to his extensive Special Forces survivalist training or maybe something innate in his psyche. However, by volunteering to go on a suicide mission, he would have gladly sacrificed himself for any of the team or to protect Earth.
Hell yeah, Colonel Jack O’Neill had leapt at the chance to end his tortured existence because when Charlie died, he didn’t want to live either. Fathers weren’t supposed to outlive their own offspring, it wasn’t natural. It wasn’t right!
Little had he expected when he signed on to what was meant to be a one-way trip through the gate that a long-haired, goofy do-gooder of an archaeologist (one who the academic world thought was a nut job) would be his salvation. Plus, Jack owed a deep gratitude to the inherently good and kind Abydonyians, especially Skaara, who’d kind of reminded him of Charlie. Skaara, along with the pesky floppy-haired archaeologist, had saved his life, literally and figuratively. Daniel had been killed by Ra and then brought back to life in his golden sarcophagus, and that led Jack to rethink the absolute permanency of death…which drove him crazy thinking about the what-ifs. Even knowing that it was an utter waste of time and emotional energy, he had been trapped in a cycle and couldn’t stop.
After his return to Earth with Ferretti and Kawalsky, sans Daniel, who found his calling and the love of his life on Abydos, Jack got caught up endlessly wondering how his life might have panned out if humans possessed the technology of the Goa’uld. Specifically, what if they possessed a sarcophagus? Which inevitably made it even harder for Jack to accept Charlie’s death.
Not long after that, he stumbled across the teachings of Pema Chodron when a well-meaning neighbour lent him a bunch of books, no doubt seeing how much he was struggling. Not just with the loss of Charlie, but his complete inability to bridge the emotional gulf between himself and Sara, resulting in their divorce. Although nominally a Catholic, due to his Irish ancestry, he had eschewed God and religion some time ago; Charlie’s death and the breakdown of his marriage further cemented his cynicism, along with meeting the Goa’uld System Lord, Ra, on Abydos. He had portrayed himself as an omnipotent God, enslaving untold thousands, maybe millions of people, forcing them to worship him, so it wasn’t surprising that the grieving father shied away from seeking solace in religion.
However, Pema Chodron was hardly your typical religious figure. She was born in New York in 1936, brought up Catholic too, growing up on a farm in New Jersey and well educated, with a degree in English Literature and a master’s in teaching. She was a twice-divorced mother of two children and a grandmother, who in Hong Kong in 1981, became the first American in the Vajrayana tradition to become a fully ordained nun. Perhaps it was her unorthodoxy as a religious teacher that captured his attention, but Jack began to read her books, although he would concede that there was probably an element of needing to believe in the Buddhist concept of reincarnation that had deeply influenced him as well. The idea that Charlie’s life wasn’t just limited to the fraction of a lifetime that he lived with Jack and Sara…that there was still more for him than being in heaven, or worse, ceasing to exist… it had been solace for his blighted soul.
So, when he agreed to let Charlie spend what little time he had left with him and decided to take him up to his grandfather’s cabin, away from prying eyes, Jack clung fiercely to a particular quote that resonated somehow. He used it to ground himself; it became a mantra every time he started getting sucked into the maelstrom of emotions that threatened to engulf his sanity.
Chodron had said, ‘Each moment is just what it is. It might be the only moment of our life; it might be the only strawberry we’ll ever eat. We could get depressed about it, or we could finally appreciate it and delight in the preciousness of every single moment of our life.’
Jack was determined to ensure that in these last days with Charlie, there would be as many ‘strawberry moments’ in his life as he could give his son. It was the least he could do to make up for the tragically limited time fate handed him. Today, the storm still prevented their first choice of activities, confining them to indoor ones, but the weather forecast, plus Jack’s observations, based on his time spent in Minnesota, suggested that tomorrow they should be able to go outside. He was looking forward to them going for a ride on the snowmobile to explore the snow-covered landscape and building snowmen. He was so grateful to Janet, who made sure he had proper snow gear so Charlie could go outside and not end up with frostbite, just in case there was a snowstorm, because caught up in his despair, Jack easily might have overlooked it.
However, there was still the unresolved question of what to do today. Jack figured maybe they should start with the modelling clay that could be baked in the oven, and after that, there were plenty of drawing supplies, crayons, pencils, felt markers, paper, and colouring books to keep them occupied. He was truly grateful to his team for their help in procuring all the stuff they brought to Minnesota to ensure that Charlie got plenty of ‘strawberry moments’.
Should Charlie become too exhausted, they could watch another movie. He was also mindful of the need to provide activities that weren’t always novel. There was a comfort and security in surrounding yourself with the familiar: so, the nightly ritual of making smores by the fire, watching movies (or even rewatching favourite ones), telling stories and going back to the lake – weather permitting – were all possibilities if Charlie wanted to. Although the lake would have to wait until tomorrow, and Jack would probably veto a second watching of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Damn those Oompa Loompahs!
There were also times when Charlie didn’t want to do anything but talk, especially wanting to know things about his brother. Perhaps instinctively, he was trying to fill his pitifully short life by living vicariously through the first Charlie. How ironic that Jack had railed against God and or fate at the injustice of how little time he’d been given, only for his cloned brother to have been given a fraction of what Charlie had gotten to live before his death. It reminded Jack of the axiom, no matter how badly off you are, you can always find someone worse off than you. He tried not to think of how unfair it was that both his children would be wrested away from him much too soon. Mostly because he kept reminding himself that Jack couldn’t afford to waste a second of the time Charlie had left, thinking of how it affected him, but it was a fucking struggle.
What was also a struggle was watching his boy fading quite literally right before his eyes, but he couldn’t let go and indulge in his sorrow. He was grateful for his training that let him compartmentalise his emotions to deal with when Charlie was asleep. He focused resolutely on the here and now, but he knew there would be a reckoning to be paid later for him repressing everything.
~o0o~
When Charlie woke up on their third day at the cabin, he was disappointed that the snow was still falling from the sky and quickly covering up all the ground and the trees, because it meant that his dad wouldn’t let him go outside. Although he remembered how cold he had been when Jack had gone outside to fetch a bucket of snow for him to touch. Just standing in the open doorway had been more than enough to make him shiver, and even his teeth made a chattering noise he couldn’t stop. When Charlie grabbed a handful of snow, it was so cold it burned his hand, even though it was cold, and it continued to hurt even after he dropped the snow. As he had slowly warmed up when he was in front of the fire, his hand started stinging, and his dad told him it was called pins and needles as the blood returned. He imagined what it would feel like if he had that feeling all over his body and decided it wouldn’t feel good.
“When it stops snowing, how long does the snow take to melt away?” he asked, disappointed that he couldn’t go out to explore.”
His father shrugged. “If the storm blows itself out today as we expect, then the snow won’t last too long. We’ll have to make sure we make the most of it.”
Seeing that he looked confused, he explained, “Once the wind goes away and the sun comes out, it will start to melt, so we’ll put on our special snow clothes to keep us warm and dry and go out and play in it.”
“Why can’t we play in it now if we have special snow clothes to keep us warm and dry?” Charlie wanted to know
“Because the wind is what makes it dangerous. It can freeze a person or animal solidly very quickly. And with the snow and wind flying around, it is too easy to get lost and not find our way back to the cabin,” his dad explained gently. “But the storm is expected to die out by tonight, so hopefully, we can go outside to play tomorrow.”
“Are you sure I have snow clothes?” Charlie asked nervously.
His dad chuckled briefly. “Yeahsureyoubetcha you do. Cassie’s mom made sure to pack snow clothes for you. I have a surprise,” he told Charlie, smilingly. “Out in the shed, I have a snowmobile, so after the storm blows itself out, we can ride down to the lake. Perhaps we’ll see some of those animals you’ve been hoping to see again.”
“What’s a snowmobile?” Charlie asked. “Is it a four-wheel bike?
Nope. It’s a special bike that has skis.” Seeing the vacant look, he explained, “Two long, narrow blades that help it to travel across the snow without getting bogged.
“What does bogged mean?”
“It means getting stuck, not being able to go forward or backward. But the snowmobile travels across the snow without getting stuck. It’s lots of fun and can go fast,” his dad explained.
“Can it go faster than the four wheels?” Charlie wanted to know.
His dad nodded. Yep, it can. A quad bike can’t go all that fast because it’ll tip over, and you can get trapped underneath it. That’s why you must go slow and be careful. But a snowmobile is much more manoeuvrable and safer, so it can go faster. It also changes directions easily without tipping over like they do.”
The boy sighed. “I wish we could go out now, Dad; it sounds like so much fun.”
His dad nodded. “It is fun, but not fun in a snowstorm. So, let’s go and play with that modelling clay that Janet and Cassie packed for us.
Charlie frowned. “How do we play with it?”
“Make stuff with it. Maybe make a wolf like the one we saw at the lake the other day. Or maybe make a snowflake or even a quad bike. I know, we could make a mini-Charlie,” Jack said, chuckling.
Charlie giggled at the thought of making another Charlie – a bit like Mother had done in her lab. “If we make him, could we make sure his body doesn’t wear out as fast as mine has?” he said wistfully.
His dad made a sniffing noise and dragged his hand across his eyes. Charlie could see his eyes were shiny and wet. Cassie had taught him about the names of the different colours because there were some things that Charlie never had a chance to learn before he arrived at the SCG. Looking into his dad’s brown eyes, he noted proudly, he wondered what was wrong with them.
“Dad, what’s wrong with your eyes? Are they sick?”
“Nothing’s wrong with them,” Jack told him, swiping at them again.
“But they’re all shiny and wet. And you keep touching them,” he said, listing all the reasons for his worry.
“And that’s all true. Good job for noticing, but there is nothing wrong with them. I’m just trying not to cry.”
“Why would you cry?” Charlie asked.
“Because I’m sad,” Jack told him bluntly.
“But why are you sad? Is it because we came here? We can go back if that would make you happy.”
Jack sighed deeply before explaining, “No, Charlie, I’m not sad that we came here. I’m sad because I don’t want to lose you.”
“So why don’t you want to cry? You told me it was okay to cry when Mother said she was going to leave me here on Earth after she went back to Reetou. Then, when the Reetou Rebels killed her, you said it was another good reason to cry,” he reminded Jack.
The unspoken denunciation, ‘Were you lying to me?’ hung heavy in the air between them.
“And I meant it, Charlie. It is okay to cry when someone you love leaves you, but I’m afraid that if I start crying before you leave me, then I won’t stop. Then we won’t be able to do all the other fun things I want to show you and do with you. Does that make sense?”
“So, you are trying to save up all your crying until I’ve gone?” he said, relieved that his dad hadn’t lied to him about crying after all.
“You got it, Champ,” he said, looking happy that Charlie understood what he was trying to say, as Jack often struggled to articulate his feelings, as his ex-wife could attest. “So, how about we stay busy and see what we can make with the modelling clay, hey?”
“If you show me what to do. I don’t think I’ll be very good at it,” Charlie confessed, looking bemused.
“Are you kidding? I’ll bet you’ll do great at it. Besides, it is supposed to be fun, so it doesn’t matter if you aren’t perfect, kiddo.”
As Jack started to show Charlie how to take a piece of the clay and roll it into a ball, he grabbed the tools the Fraiser ladies had sent along, saying brightly, “Why don’t we start by making some shapes?”
After they had made circles, stars, rectangles, spirals and what his dad said were diamond shapes, he suggested that if they put a little hole in the shapes, and after they put them in the oven to get hard, then Charlie could paint them and make presents for Cassie, Janet and Sam for helping get their gear together for their trip. Charlie was excited because if he gave them a present, then they wouldn’t forget him after he was gone. When his dad said they would also need to make a lot of beads if they wanted to make three necklaces, Charlie nodded enthusiastically, and they were kept very busy making beads.
~o0o~
While the snowstorm had put paid to any outdoor activities, Jack knew that his son wanted to spend what was left of his days exploring the world outside the cabin. A world that Charlie was specifically created to help save from the Reetou Rebels’ cockamamie plan to defeat the Goa’uld. Fortunately, the father and son’s rather clumsy attempts to create things with modelling clay had proved to be a fun. It was also an effective way to distract themselves from the giant elephant in the room that Jack felt was threatening to crush him, as each precious second they had together slipped away like grains of sand in a cosmic hourglass.
As they worked on the necklaces, Charlie chatted away about how he hoped to see more animals like the one they saw on the day they first arrived in Minnesota from the SGC. Jack told him stories about how, as a boy like Charlie, he would come here with his grandfather and go hiking, and they’d go paddling in a canoe on the lake. Charlie wanted to know where he was now, and he explained that his grandfather had become very old and weak, that his heart had stopped beating, and he had died.
Having finished making enough beads by Jack’s estimation, they had then turned their attention to making a mini-Charlie, Jack, Cassie and Janet out of clay. It had provoked a lot of angst and hilarity since it had turned out to be much more difficult than Jack expected. They ended up looking somewhat lopsided and nothing like their namesakes, but they had a lot of fun making them. Charlie looked like he was trying to pluck up the courage to ask what was troubling him.
When his dad finally decided to rip off the band-aid and ask what was on his mind, Charlie heaved a sigh of relief. “Dad, will you sleep in my room tonight?”
Jack could see that the nightmare had obviously troubled his kid even more than he thought. Sighing because the last thing Jack wanted was their limited time together marred by bad dreams.
“Yeahsureyabetcha, Charlie,” he reassured him.
“And you won’t leave the cabin like you did last night?” he pressed, anxiously.
Jack knew from his past experiences with his first son, there was absolutely no point in arguing with a scared, distraught child. He hadn’t left the cabin last night, there had been a freakin’ snowstorm raging outside and besides, he wouldn’t leave the little boy on his own with his health in such a perilous state. Hell, he wouldn’t leave him even if he were healthy!
However, if Charlie dreamed that he’d woken up alone, then it was a waste of time trying to convince him otherwise. Dreams could be incredibly vivid, especially to a child.
“I’ll be there watching your six all night long, kiddo,” he promised soothingly.
Dad, what’s a six?”
“It means I’ll watch your back,” he explained with a grin.
“But Dad, what about my front, too? Can you watch that as well? Charlie asked in all seriousness, and Jack smothered a smile as he put the finishing touches to the mini-Janet’s foot, which, to be brutally honest, looked more like a flipper.
So okay, he wasn’t very good at this sculpting stuff – but he hadn’t done any modelling (aside from plastic explosives, and he didn’t think that counted) since he was in grade school. Sara had done all this stuff with their first Charlie back in the day, and Jack felt a pang of regret, realising what he’d missed out on. So okay, he may not have been a Rodin, but Charlie didn’t care about that; he just cared that they were having fun together.
“Yep, I’ll watch your front and your back, and your head, arms and legs. I’ll watch all of you,” he vowed seriously and was rewarded by a massive grin of relief on the pallid face of his son where moments before there had been a look of sheer panic.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d bunked down on the floor, and he bet it wouldn’t be the last time; he might even have a camp bed around here somewhere. If now, well, he slept on the ground regularly when their missions required overnight stays off-world, so how could he begrudge doing it for his own flesh and blood? If it made Charlie feel more secure, then he’d willingly sleep on the floor every night and chase away the monsters for however long they had together. It was a very small thing to do if it gave his son peace of mind, and honestly, he was feeling increasingly helpless as their time together slipped away.
They placed their clay jewellery and mini people in the wood-fired oven of the stove that his grandfather Liam O’Neill had installed not long before his death. Jack hoped the modelling clay would harden correctly, but they would have to wait and see. He knew he would treasure the lopsided figure of himself that Charlie had so painstakingly created, although he wished that he could have hundreds more of these precious moments, too.
After they cleaned up the table and put the leftover modelling clay back into its airtight container in case they decided to do more modelling, Jack noted that the storm was certainly dying down, which was good news; he hoped that the weather would let them go tomorrow and make a snowman. With each hour that passed, Jack watched his kid grow visibly weaker; the two weeks they had initially hoped for seemed like little more than a pipe dream to Jack now. The cold, pragmatic colonel, trained to face painful, unpleasant realities, grudgingly admitted that a week, maybe ten days tops, was the most he could hope for before Charlie’s badly cloned body gave up the fight, and he slipped quietly away.
The more strenuous activities like canoeing and exploration of a small pocket of the planet he’d help to save, needed to be done ASAP. It seemed such a small recompense for everything that Charlie would never get to do but he would be able to play in the snow for a few hours, ride on the snowmobile, see some of the animals that lived here in this beautiful place and go canoeing on the lake.
Jack prepared a quick lunch for them both, along with the medical meal replacement drinks that Janet had loaded them up with, trying to keep Charlie’s body functioning as long as medically possible, and Jack recognised that being unable to save his son was torture on the dedicated doctor and loving mother. He gazed across at Charlie, like he did hundreds of times, day and night, and noted his son seemed to be fighting to stay awake, so Jack suggested a nap in front of the fire, quick to reassure his son he would stay beside him as he slept. He was rewarded with a look of gratitude from frightened eyes, and he worried about how the nightmares were stressing the already extremely frail boy. He wished he could do more to reassure him, but he wondered if the so-called grey Oompa Loompa reflected his subconscious fears of dying.
Who was to say, given his utterly unorthodox birth and rapid age acceleration, what his true psychological and physical developmental status was, and thus his understanding of death? Which, of course, was why Sam and, to a lesser extent, Daniel had questioned Jack and Janet’s arguments, arguing that he wasn’t able to make such a critical decision about becoming a host to a Tok’ra. Fortunately, Teal’c had not tried to influence Jack beyond expressing his belief that he would make the correct decision for his boy, whichever one he took. Considering how difficult the decision was that Jack faced, he had been mighty grateful for his Jaffa friend’s unconditional support. Maybe Teal’c never attempted to influence him because he had faced a similar dilemma with his desire to prevent his son, Rya’c, from taking on a prim’tah, feeling it would effectively enslave him for the rest of his life to the Goa’uld. However, Tealc’s previous objection had been extinguished when he learnt that Rya’c was deathly ill. Tragically, his only chance (like Charlie) had been taking a Goa’uld prim’tah (or, in Charlie’s case, a Tok’ra symbiote) to save his life.
Of course, while there were commonalities in their situations, there were some major differences. After the implantation, Rya’c would remain on Chulak with his mother to care for and nurture him until he reached adulthood. Charlie could not stay here with Jack. The prim’tah was a juvenile, so it couldn’t control Rya’c or interact with him in a significant fashion, unlike the mature Goa’uld or Tok’ra were able to do so with the human host. He had also been raised in a culture where it was considered normal to carry a larval Goa’uld symbiote. Jaffa children had been brainwashed from birth to regard it as a great honour, which was emphatically different from Charlie’s background, given his Reetou origins.
So even with the implanted prim’tah despised by Teal’c, that still left Teal’c’s son relatively free to live out what remained of his childhood, indulging in age-appropriate behaviour that would not be possible in Charlie’s situation. He would be sharing his body, not with an immature Goa’uld but an adult Tok’ra. Granted, when the Goa’uld matured, Rya’c was now dependent, like his father and thousands of other Jaffa, on the Goa’uld to replace their prim’tahs, hence their lifelong dependence and obedience to the barbaric race. Teal’c knew that in defying Apophis and betraying him, when his prim’tah reached maturity, it would augur his death unless Janet could figure out a way to replace his symbiote, and right now, that did not seem very likely.
Still, as hard as the decision was regarding Charlie, on the one hand, it had been a relatively simple choice on the other. Charlie was terrified of the Goa’uld and, by association, the Tok’ra, despite their differences. Jack didn’t think he could become a host to a Tok’ra, not even if his life depended on it, so how could he ask that of his son when he didn’t want to do it? That would make O’Neill a total hypocrite. Plus, there was Janet’s medical opinion that, given Charlie’s unorthodox conception and upbringing, as brief as it was, it would simply be untenable to expect him to cope with becoming a host to a symbiote. In a nutshell, it was a relatively simple choice; it was the consequences that were agonisingly hard to accept.
As Charlie took a peaceful nap, having demanded a story about his brother as he drifted off to sleep, Jack was left to ponder what would have happened if he hadn’t taken that damned baseball glove into the SCG and left it in his locker and sometimes the drawer in his desk. Most of Charlie’s possessions he kept at home in his basement, but after the mission where SG-1 encountered The Unity on P3X-562, when the crystalline alien came searching for Charlie, hoping to heal Jack, who had been injured, Charlie had been on his mind a lot. After he gave Teal’c’s son, a baseball and a catcher’s mitt when he and Drey’auc went off to live on P3X-797 (otherwise known as the Land of the Light), Jack had felt compelled to take Charlie’s old baseball glove to the SGC and kept it in his locker or sometimes in his desk drawer. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it, although it was one of his most prized possessions; maybe to feel a tangible connection to his child, tenuous though it was.
Probably, if he hadn’t brought it to work, ‘Mother’ would have obtained his DNA and cloned Jack instead, which he thought would have been preferable. Weird but preferable. He thought back to how that crazy assed ‘com-tryah’ alien robot who had created robot copies of SG-1 so he would have company. That had been super freaky, but he thought if it was Jack’s clone rather than his son’s, it would be a lot easier for him to deal with his clone’s death rather than Charlie’s.
Was it rational? Probably not, but it was how he felt.
Chapter 11: Promises We Make
“Bad promises are better broken than kept.” – Abraham Lincoln
Day six since Jack and Charlie’s departure:
Dr. Janet Fraiser handed the satellite phone to her impatient daughter, Cassandra, so she could chat with Charlie. Despite having only known the young boy for a few short days, Cassie formed an almost instant bond with the sick little boy. Janet would go so far as to say that their relationship was sibling-like, and it certainly made her wonder.
Her adopted daughter (who was twelve when they brought her to Earth) was the only one on her planet not to be killed by the monstrous Goa’uld bitch, Nirti. Even a year after she settled on Earth, Cassie said very little about her family who’d died on Hanka, and the SCG’s psychiatrist, Dr McKenzie, had recommended that they shouldn’t push her. He recommended that Janet let the severely traumatised young girl talk about her biological family when she was ready. Seeing the strong bond that had immediately developed between Cassie and Charlie, she was almost certain that Cassie had not been an only child. Janet felt that any sibling had probably been younger than her, just by the instinctive way she stepped into the role of big sister to the sick little boy.
Still, her adoptive mother resolved not to force Cassie to confirm or deny her speculation about her daughter’s family. Hopefully, she would decide to confide in Janet when she was ready. She wouldn’t care if her daughter chose to unburden herself to Sam Carter or the Colonel, since she was equally close to both members of the SCG; however, the teen was still a little gun-shy around Sam after that Tok’ra symbiote had hijacked her body on Nassia some months ago. Not that Janet could blame her – she still retained a healthy degree of scepticism herself over the whole matter.
Maybe because, as a mother, she couldn’t forgive or forget that Jolinar had threatened to kill Cassie if she told anyone she was hiding within Carter, having entered her body when the captain was giving mouth-to-mouth to mouth with the previous host. A host who had also been appropriated without prior consent. Now, if Jolinar was to be believed, she wouldn’t have harmed Cassie, just wanted to scare her, but even if Janet believed it, that still didn’t change the fact that Cassandra was terrified. The poor kid had been severely shaken by the discovery that what she believed was a Goa’uld had taken over someone she’d formed a close emotional bond with.
Janet wished Jolinar were still alive so she could give the Tok’ra symbiote a piece of her mind. Traumatising a child who had already lost her entire planet was a low act, and having access to Sam’s memories, she must have known that, but threatened her anyway. Cassandra was still having nightmares months afterwards.
As much as she was happy for Cassie and Charlie to have each other, since they both shared quite a lot in common, Janet worried about how the thirteen-year-old would cope with Charlie’s imminent passing. It was yet another significant trauma for her to have to deal with in such a short period. Not that there was anything she could do to spare her from Charlie’s inevitable death.
Sadly, the attempts to fix the sarcophagus had run into a brick wall, according to reports she was receiving from Sam. Despite cannibalising crystals from Pyrus’s sarcophagus to repair Hathor‘s wrecked sarcophagi, plus the spare parts that the Tok’ra expert brought with her to Area 51 to rebuild it, the cobbled-together unit still wasn’t working.
It was clear to the scientists that they were missing something. But what?
Her friend revealed that the atmosphere down at Nellis in Nevada, with all the geniuses being stymied, made for a lot of fireworks. Several of the monumental meltdowns were caused by the original scientist, Rodney McKay, who’d been put in charge of getting Hathor’s sarcophagus operational more than a month ago. He didn’t appreciate what he perceived to be their interference. Janet surmised by what Sam didn’t say that he was probably afraid of the competition posed by Sam and the Tok’ra, Anise and her less abrasive host, Freya. She’d seen how intimidating ‘they’ were firsthand when the Tok’ra pair came through the Stargate. When introduced to them, even though she was the Chief Medical Officer, Anise made her feel like an Oompa Loompa from one of Cassie’s favourite movies, towering over her with her dismissive attitude.
Meanwhile, with nothing working, the Tok’ra pair (Freya/Anise) were headed off-world, back through the Stargate to consult some extremely old texts that were too fragile to be brought to Earth. At least that was the excuse she had used, but Sam confided to Janet that she thought it was bullshit, and Anise didn’t want to share. A theory that Selmak had seemed to confirm, stating that Anise was an exceptional researcher/scientist, but also had a reputation amongst her colleagues as being excessively secretive. He hinted that some of her Tok’ra colleagues regarded her as a glory seeker who didn’t work well with peers.
So, with nothing to do but await her return, Sam and Rodney continued to work together, albeit acrimoniously, revising every single step they had taken in reconstructing the healing chamber to try to figure out why the damned crystals weren’t working. Meanwhile, most of the scientists on Dr McKay’s team were in hiding, refusing to interact with the Canadian astrophysicist for fear of being consumed by his rage at their failures. It sounded like an extremely toxic work environment, and Janet, though she hadn’t met the man, decided that sounded like a jerk. Berating your team when things weren’t going well created a fear of further failures and stifled creativity and innovative ideas, which was the antithesis of discovery and progress. It was about as useful as shooting yourself in the ass but thankfully, he was not her problem.
The bottom line was that, after the initial enthusiasm that they could get a sarcophagus operational in time to save Charlie’s life, it was looking increasingly unlikely that it would be the case. Despite acknowledging Samantha Carter’s brilliance and incredible gift of problem-solving in even the most fraught and danger-filled situations, which sometimes seemed almost MacGyver-like, Janet knew that time was rapidly running out.
She could hear it in Jack’s voice and his carefully couched words that he thought initial estimations had been overly optimistic. She noted automatically that he also sounded exhausted, but put it down to him having trouble sleeping. It was perfectly understandable, given what he was facing.
Time was rapidly running out. She could also hear it in Charlie’s increasingly weak and weary tone, even though he was excited and happy to be exploring his new home, after being forced to spend a couple of days shut up in Jack’s cabin when a snowstorm had hit the region. Finally, when they were able to get outside, the father and son had spent the last three days exploring the surrounding small lakes and forests on Jack’s snowmobile, and they built a bunch of snowmen.
Janet had also overheard Charlie excitedly telling Cassie how they found a not-too-steep hill and had gone sledding down it very fast, although her daughter, suspecting that her mom would not be impressed by that activity, pointedly didn’t mention that adventure. Charlie had loved it, which was probably why Jack had let him do it, she reckoned, fondly.
Today, after speaking to the pair, Janet was already revising her own timetable, expecting that she would probably be needed in Minnesota in the next three or four days, resolving to let Dr Warner know he would have to step in as acting chief medical officer sooner than they’d anticipated. Now, putting on her CMO hat, the diminutive captain started running mental checklists of what she needed to do before turning the infirmary over to her second-in-charge. She headed into Cassie’s room to pack her bag and ensure she had plenty of clothes for the cold of Minnesota, as well as needing to put her own go-bag together just in case.
She also needed to call the boarding kennel and make sure that they could take Elto, the dog Jack had given Cassie back in the days when she had first been fostering the little alien girl while the powers that be searched for a home for her. That was before Janet decided to adopt her. At first, when Jack approached her with his plan for some animal-assisted therapy, she was emphatically against the idea, since she was not what you’d call a doggy person. But Jack pre-empted her diatribe by handing her a pile of scientific literature for her to read on the widespread benefits of children growing up with a pet.
He also had even more scientific evidence about the healing qualities that had been discovered, along with the most recent studies on PTSD in war veterans and emotional support animals, i.e. dogs and horse-facilitated therapy to combat debilitating nightmares, flashbacks and hypervigilance. After reading the literature and listening to his arguments that the dog would act as a confidante for Cass until she was ready to open up to the adults in her life, she was ready to cave. When he pointed out that Elto would also serve as someone she could love without there being any conflicted emotions of disloyalty to her parents, even though they were dead, and Janet agreed immediately, with one proviso.
Janet told Jack that the dog needed to be not too big, as she didn’t have the time to exercise a large dog. Elto, a spitz cross, according to the colonel, who was a dog enthusiast, had been the result, and she was the first to admit that the dog had been a godsend. They had already boarded him several times before, just for a weekend when they had gone away and couldn’t take him, so she called and gave them a heads up, making a tentative booking for three days from now. She knew that Cassie would prefer to take Elto with them to Minnesota, and while Janet knew that Jack wouldn’t mind, Charlie had reacted badly to the dog when Cassie had successfully smuggled him into the SCG to show the little boy, and had earned a quasi-stern rebuke from General Hammond for triggering a security crisis.
Jack had thought it was hilarious and told the general they should be thanking Cassandra for exposing flaws in their security. His point was he’d rather Elto be smuggled in than a bomb or some piece of technology to spy on them. It was a good point and probably explained why Hammond hadn’t pitched a true fit! That and the fact he had two granddaughters that he positively doted on who were a few years younger than Cass.
Having just got off the phone with the highly recommended boarding kennel, she heard her daughter’s footsteps coming up the stairs as she made her way into Janet’s bedroom, a worried look on her face. Examining the young teen carefully, her mother wondered for the umpteenth time, if it was such a good idea to let her be present as her new friend cum surrogate sibling drew his last breath?
Should she insist that Cassie stay here in Colorado because she had been through enough trauma and tragedy in this last year already? Was it wise to knowingly expose her to more heartbreak? If Sam or Jack were here, she would almost definitely veto the idea of her daughter going with her, but Sam was at Nellis AFB, and Jack was with Charlie. She didn’t think that Cassie would be okay with the idea of staying with Daniel or Teal’c, given the tumultuous circumstances unfolding. She got on fine with them, but she hadn’t bonded with them like she had with Sam and Jack.
Although Charlie sounded very upbeat, even as his frail body was failing him, Janet felt uneasy. Something was bothering the young boy. Fraiser had assumed that it was because Charlie was afraid of what was coming, or perhaps was wishing he could remain with his father. It was only to be expected that he would be afraid. Yet when Cassie finished her conversation with the sick boy who’d become like her little brother, looking concerned, Janet seriously reconsidered yet again the plan to take Cassie with her to Minnesota. Maybe Daniel would agree to return from Nellis to look after her.
Still, Janet also knew that Cassie needed the opportunity to say her goodbyes to Charlie, and she recognised that her presence would be a comfort to him. Unfortunately, as much as the protective mother wished she could protect her daughter from further pain, the reality was that they were going to lose the little boy, and there was nothing they could do to stop it. Not unless a miracle occurred at the eleventh hour at Area 51.
Death was an undeniable part of life but damn it, Cassie had already lost too many people. She, of all people, was well acquainted with the fragility of existence!
“Hey, Sweetie, you look worried. Anything I can do? If you don’t want to come with me to Minnesota, that’s perfectly okay.”
Cassie shook her head. “I must go. Charlie needs me,” she declared emphatically.
“Okay. If you’re sure. But Jack and I will be there for Charlie. I promise to make sure that he passes peacefully. I won’t let him suffer,” Janet vowed, trying hard not to tear up in her presence.
She needed to be strong, not just for Cassandra but for Jack and Charlie too. They would all be depending on her. But it was always much harder to lose a child, and this was a special one she loved already. However, Janet had advocated for this option over forcing him to host an adult symbiote as the least damaging option for the child. Therefore, it fell to her to support Jack and Cassie through the difficult transition, even if she knew it was the right thing to do.
“I know that, Mom, but I need to go,” she said, absently, making Janet’s heart clench, knowing that Cassie usually only referred to her as mom when she was upset, since she still felt like she was being disloyal to her Hankan mother, and usually Cass just called her by her given name.
“Well, if you change your mind, that’s okay too,” Janet told her.
“Can we go now?” Cassie requested, catching her off guard.
“Soon. I’ve already spoken to General Hammond and told him we will be leaving in three or four days, although if Charlie gets worse, we might need to go sooner.”
“We need to go now,” her daughter asserted, throwing herself down on Janet’s bed and giving her what Janet called her puppy eyes.
“Do you think Charlie is feeling worse than he lets on?” she asked, her concerns ratcheting up as she zipped up her fully packed bag, which meant she was good to go at a moment’s notice and sank down on her bed beside the young teenager.
“I don’t know, Cassie admitted. “Maybe?”
“Okay then, why do you think we need to leave immediately?”
Cassie looked obdurate. “I promised not to tell,” she muttered.
“Promised? Who did you promise? Charlie?” Janet questioned her gently because she could tell that the girl was deeply conflicted.
Cassie merely nodded, and Janet knew she had to tread carefully.
“But whatever Charlie told you, do you think that it is serious enough that we need to go to Minnesota immediately?”
“Yes.”
“Right, well, is there some problem between Charlie and his dad?”
“No, yes, not exactly,” she replied, visibly frustrated.
Janet thought about what could be prompting Cassie to be so alarmed. “So, maybe you can tell me if Charlie or Jack is in danger?”
“Maybe.”
Taking Cassie’s hand gently, she cautiously asked her, “Remember when Jolinar told you not to tell anyone about her or she would hurt you? But you were worried about Sam and scared that Jolinar would hurt her and others, too, and you spoke up anyway?”
Looking close to tears, she said, “But this is different. I promised Charlie I wouldn’t tell,” before bursting into tears.
Realising the emotional strain she was under, Janet backed off trying to worm the information out of her and gathered the fraught teen into her arms and held her until she was all cried out.
Finally, Janet spoke. “I won’t try to make you tell me what’s going on, and I’ll speak to Jack and the General about going up there tomorrow, if possible,” she promised.
“Can’t we go now?” Cassie pleaded with her as Janet reached for a box of tissues from her bedside table and handed them to her to dry her eyes and blow her nose.
“Cass, General Hammond isn’t going to authorise an emergency flight tonight, not without what he thinks is a good reason, but maybe I can convince him to let us fly up there tomorrow. Or if not, I’ll see about us getting a civilian flight to Minnesota, okay?”
Sighing in defeat, Cassie nodded silently before hugging her adoptive mother. “Thank you.”
Returning the hug and stroking Cassie’s strawberry-blonde hair soothingly, she said, “Come on, let’s get some dinner and have an early night. Guess it’s lucky that I already packed our bags, huh?”
Janet sighed, making a mental note to call the boarding kennel first thing in the morning and hoped that they could take Elto a few days earlier.
“Okay,” Cassie acquiesced. “I’ll feed Elto, she said, getting off the bed and heading downstairs.
Janet followed, wondering how she would convince Hammond to authorise their departure almost seven days earlier than planned. All because Cassie felt they needed to go now, but couldn’t tell them why, because she’d promised Charlie she wouldn’t.
~o0o~
After feeding her dog and checking that he had fresh water, Cassie watched Janet start making dinner, smiling when she realised she was cooking meatloaf, one of her favourite meals on Earth, since her mother used to make something similar on Hanka. Back home, it hadn’t been a favourite meal, since Cassie’s mother used to hide lots of vegetables in the meat, thinking that her little brother Whillan and Cassie wouldn’t notice, but buktal had a very distinctive sourish taste; it was almost impossible to miss its presence in the meat-cake. At least Janet’s meatloaf didn’t have any buktal in it.
Perched on a stool as she watched Janet work, having peeled several vegetables, she asked casually, “How long can people go without sleep?”
Busy grating the zucchini and carrot that she added to the meatloaf mixture with breadcrumbs and a whole bunch of marjoram, oregano, basil, seasonings and egg, Janet looked at her consideringly.
“We were talking about it in our personal development and health course,” she explained untruthfully, but she’d promised Charlie not to say anything.
“Well, that’s not an easy question to answer because studying sleep deprivation has been curtailed in the scientific community as it’s now considered unethical to expose test subjects to what we know has harmful effects on their well-being. So, all we have is observational data when someone can’t sleep,” she said.
Cassie frowned because her mother hadn’t answered her question. “But what did they learn from those experiments before it was banned?” she pressed Janet impatiently.
“Back when sleep experiments were still being carried out, it was determined that going 24 hours without sleep was the equivalent of being 0.16 under the influence of alcohol, which is twice the legal level of being too drunk to drive. The longer you go without sleep, the more impaired you become with blurred vision, slurred speech, and you start experiencing delusions and hallucinations,” Janet explained.
“What’s the difference between a hallucination and a delusion?”
Washing her hands and then pouring herself a glass of wine and Cassie a grape juice, she paused before explaining. “Well, a delusion is a false belief that is resistant to change,” she began.
“Like millions of people believe that the Goa’uld are Gods when the truth is they are parasitic creatures who steal humans’ bodies?” Cassie asked.
“Prexactly,” Janet said as Cassie giggled. It was a portmanteau that she and one of her school friends came up with – a combination of exactly and precisely.
“A hallucination is when someone sees or hears things that aren’t,” her mother explained.
“But how do we know that they aren’t real? Charlie could see the Reetou even if we couldn’t, but it didn’t mean it was a hallucination,” the teenager rightly argued.
“And that’s an excellent point,” Janet conceded. “Until we had the Tok’ra weapons that could detect them, I thought Charlie was seeing things that weren’t there,” she confessed.
Which made her wonder, was it possible that other people might have been born with a similar genetic anomaly to Charlie’s, a mutation of the gene responsible for the formation of the reticular formation in the brain that allowed them to see beings and or creatures who were one hundred and eight degrees out of phase with humans? What if society had wrongly labelled them as crazy and put them in psychiatric facilities, administering psychotropic drugs to keep them biddable?
Once they reverse-engineered the T.E.R. guns, they should probably try to determine if other aliens besides the Reetou existed out of phase, too.
“I’d never imagined that there might be other beings or creatures that exist, but we can’t detect them,” she said, frowning, as Cassie fell silent.
Cassie frowned. “So, from what you’ve said, going without sleep doesn’t sound good.”
“You’re right about that,” Janet agreed. “Often in wars, prisoners will be interrogated to make them reveal secrets, and one of the techniques is to deprive them of sleep, keeping them awake with loud music and bright lights until they become delusional.”
“That’s horrible,” Cassie exclaimed fiercely.
“Absolutely,” her mother nodded, finishing the meatloaf and putting it into the oven to cook.”
Seeing that her daughter was disinclined to talk further, Janet asked, “Have you finished your homework?”
Rolling her eyes in the obligatory teenage revolt, Cassie said, “Nearly. I just have to check through my book report for spelling errors and finish off my geometry assignment.”
Janet nodded. “Okay, why don’t you do that while I make the mashed potatoes,” she said brightly as Cassie nodded, without complaining, which made her mom look at her with concern as Cassie went up to her room to get her books.
After dinner, Cassie had a quick shower and took Elto outside to go potty before heading to bed. She had surreptitiously smuggled the satellite phone up to her room, having told Charlie to call her if he got frightened. She was kinda regretting not asking her mother if other kids who were dying also saw little grey beings, or if it was only Charlie because he was special. Maybe it was because his Reetou Mother had done something to the inside of his brain so he could see the Reetou when ordinary humans couldn’t.
The kid was scared, and Cassie thought she would be, too. A part of her wished she could stay here in Colorado, although when she nearly died because of that thing that Nirti had put into her heart that activated an explosive device when Sam and Daniel brought her back to the SCG from Hanka, Sam had stayed with her. She wondered if maybe little grey beings had been hanging around her too, and she just couldn’t see them.
At least Jack knew. Charlie said Jack had set up a camp cot in Charlie’s room, and he had been staying awake for the last few nights to keep him safe from the grey creatures. Jack told him he would always have his six, but today, Charlie said that his dad had been very sleepy. That his dad kept falling asleep, although he would always jerk himself awake super-fast. Still, Cassandra could tell that the little boy was afraid of the little grey creatures, and said he didn’t want to go with them.
He also asked her what she knew about the first Charlie O’Neill, also wanting to know about Charlie’s mother, which confused her because wasn’t the first Charlie’s mother also his mother? The Reetou who cloned him wasn’t truly Charlie’s mother, even if he called her Mother. It was all extremely confusing, she huffed frustratedly, wishing that he’d picked a different name from his brother’s, before refocusing on the subject of Charlie’s mother, whose name was Sara. Unfortunately, Cassie couldn’t tell him anything, aside from her name. She only knew that because Jack had said something to Janet in the infirmary about how, even some years after his death, Sara still kept Charlie’s room like it was on the day he died.
Her mom had told him people grieve in different ways, and Jack told her he understood, but said that he couldn’t have Charlie’s stuff left out and his room ready, like he was coming back some day when he never would. Her mom had patted Jack on the shoulder and said that was probably a part of the reason they didn’t stay together, because they grieved in different ways. Jack agreed that it was part of it, but a big part of why they divorced was that Sara blamed him, and he blamed himself even more. He said that Sara should blame him because it was his fault that Charlie was dead, and Janet told him that he wasn’t to blame, but Jack didn’t believe her.
When Janet asked if he was going to tell Sara about this new Charlie, he sounded kinda mixed up, like he didn’t know what to do. Cassie found that weird because her sort of uncle was always calm and sure of himself, even when he pretended to act dumb. Cassie had realised a long time ago it was an act, even though she didn’t understand why he did it, but she reckoned he must have a pretty good reason, though.
She wondered if she should ask her mother about Sara O’Neill because Charlie hadn’t asked her not to say anything about the original Charlie’s mother, just not to say anything about the scary grey beings that freaked him out so much. As for Sara, Cassie got the feeling he would have liked to meet Sara, but he thought he didn’t have the right to because he wasn’t the real Charlie, only a copy. She decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell her mom when she came in tonight to say goodnight, which she did every night without fail, whether they were here at home or when they slept overnight at the SCG and she was on night duty in the infirmary.
Having decided to share that much at least, the teenager felt relieved. She was in the middle of hiding the satellite phone underneath her bed when her mom walked into her room.
“Cassandra, what are you doing with the sat phone?” she asked sharply.
Cassie, who was becoming well acclimated to Earth with all its customs and culture, couldn’t help yelping in surprise at being caught red-handed, muttering under her breath, “Busted!”
~o0o~
Several hours later, after catching Cassie concealing the satellite phone in her bedroom and giving her daughter an almighty scare in the bargain, Janet climbed wearily into bed. She switched off the light, needing to get a good night’s rest. Not that she was exactly sanguine about her chances – Murphy’s law dictated that when she was most in need of sleep, that was the time when a crisis would hit, and she would get called into the base. Although after reviewing what she had learned from Cassie when she caught her concealing the phone under her bed, which they were using to keep in contact with Jack and Charlie so she could monitor her patient, she was beyond exhausted.
Cassie would only say that Charlie didn’t feel safe, and she told him to call her at any time if he needed to talk, which was a really good idea, and Janet lavishly praised her for it. But Cassie still steadfastly refused to say anything more about why he felt unsafe, because she had promised not to tell anyone. However, as frustrated as she was with not knowing what was going on at the cabin, Janet was reassured that Charlie had talked to Jack about it. Plus, it was just enough confirmation to reassure Janet that heading out to Minnesota tomorrow was the right call.
Thankfully, Cassie had been willing to talk about another topic that was bothering Charlie; he’d been asking Cassie about his biological mother, Sara O’Neill. Although tragically, he seemed to think he didn’t have the right to claim her as his mother because he was just a clone.
“Isn’t the first Charlie’s mother also our Charlie’s mom, too, even though he’s a clone?”
“Yes, absolutely, he is her child, too,” Janet reassured her, “but I think that, as young as he is, he understands that neither Jack nor Sara had a say in his birth. He feels guilty that Mother took some of the older Charlie’s DNA cells to create him.”
“Lots of people don’t plan to have a baby, but they do,” Cassie pointed out in a judgemental, black was black and white was white perspective so typical of a teen that Janet couldn’t help feeling amused.
“They still end up being a family, so why wouldn’t his mother want him? Jack does!” her daughter demanded, making it sound like Sara O’Neill was the Wicked Witch of the West.
“She probably would, Cassie, but Jack thinks that she is still really struggling to get over losing the first Charlie, and so it would be too difficult for her to go through it again. He also knows that although Mother wasn’t Charlie’s biological mother, she was like his mom, and he is grieving that she is dead. Jack didn’t want him to think that he was trying to downplay how important she was to Charlie, even though she wasn’t human or his bio-mom. All that mattered was that Charlie loved her, and he is still grieving for her.”
Cassie was silent, and Janet was certain she was weighing up her explanation and considering her own experience when she lost her family last year. It wasn’t the same, but there were enough similarities that it gave her pause to think.
Finally, her adopted daughter nodded. “That’s fair, I guess. But what if Charlie does want to meet his human mother?”
Janet shrugged. “Look, it isn’t our business, although I’m glad you told me. We can talk to Charlie and Jack about it when we are in Minnesota, but in the end, this is something they need to sort out,” she explained before hugging her and switching off her light, as Cassie snuggled down with Elto at her feet.
As Janet made her way downstairs to finish reviewing the latest clinical observations made by her staff regarding SG-8’s injured team members after two of them sustained injuries on a mission to PX3-S7B. They’d returned with multiple fractures, and Corporal Viragos had also had a fractured skull, located in the parietal region. The infirmary was still closely monitoring his intracranial pressure to determine if he would need brain surgery to relieve the swelling, and Janet’s gut told her they probably would. Still, her 2IC, Dr Warner, was an extremely competent doctor, plus, his medical specialty was surgery, something they needed on a pretty regular basis at the SGC, unfortunately.
If the corporal’s intracranial pressure rose much more, and surgical intervention was indicated, he couldn’t be in safer hands, she reminded herself. According to this last report, although Cpl Viragos’ ICP had continued climbing, albeit gradually, Warner recommended that they still had a little bit of wiggle room to see if the steroids would stop the brain swelling. Which was preferable to having to drill a burr hole in his skull and insert a drain. Finally, she shut down her work laptop and climbed the stairs, checking on her daughter, who was asleep, before making her way to her bedroom and slipping into her sleepwear, then crawling exhaustedly into bed, switching off her bedside lamp and plunging the room into darkness apart from the ambient light from the waxing moon.
Trying to find a comfortable position, Janet allowed her thoughts to wander to the guarded phone call that Sam had made to her earlier, saying that Anise had returned after checking a source document and that they thought they had found out why the ‘chamber’ wasn’t working, but Anise might have found a solution. Sam promised to fill her in tomorrow when she was at work, which was the captain’s way of saying that, because she wasn’t on a secure line, Sam couldn’t give her any more details. She fought hard not to get her hopes up that they’d get the sarcophagus working and save Charlie O’Neill from a tragic premature death, but it was difficult.
She cared about every single one of her patients, but his case was unique and tragic. He was a great kid, and he’d absolutely tugged at her heartstrings right from when she first laid eyes on him. How could he not? Plus, he had helped Mother save the SCG and the planet, and it was a bitter pill to swallow that Janet, despite being a doctor and saving countless lives throughout her career, could not prevent his death. Her last thought as she drifted off to sleep was the hope that Sam, Anise/Freya and Rodney McKay had achieved the impossible and got that damned Goa’uld sarcophagus functioning again.
She was rudely awakened a few hours later by a desperate Cassie calling out, “Mom, Mom, come here please.”
As a doctor, especially a military one, Janet Fraiser was used to waking up swiftly and swinging into action to save lives, but there was a note of anguished terror in her daughter’s voice that was more effective than a cold shower. Even as she made her way into Cassie’s bedroom, she already knew it was too late. Tears streaming down her cheeks, which were sheet white, Cassie was yelling hysterically into the sat phone, “Charlie, take the phone with you,” as Janet instantly guessed, he had already gone.
Taking charge, she had extracted the bare bones of the situation from the overwrought teen, whom Charlie had called in a panic, saying an Oompa Loompa took Jack away, and he was all alone in the cabin and very freaked out. Cassie had tried to get further details, but he’d been too spooked and told her he needed to hide before they came for him, too. At that point, she’d entered the room to Cassie, yelling at Charlie to take the sat phone with him so they could stay in contact.
While she knew that there was much more to the story, right now, they needed to get to the base. Fortunately, it was only a ten-minute drive away, and then they had to figure out the quickest way to get help for Charlie and the Colonel.
After ordering Cassie to get dressed and grab her go-bag which Janet had packed earlier, she rushed to her bedroom to do the same. They were out the front door of their home and on the road in six minutes, Janet deciding if they left for Minnesota as she hoped, she would have to get someone like Lou Ferretti to swing by and pick up Elto and drop him off at the kennels when they opened later today.
As they made their way to Cheyenne Mountain on the almost deserted roads, Janet engaged in a serious bout of second-guessing her decision not to try harder to make Cassie confide in her about why Charlie was so freaked out earlier on that evening. Her only consolation was that she just knew that Cassandra was probably second-guessing her decision not to tell Janet, too.
Janet Fraiser knew it was hard being a kid and that growing up also meant making mistakes and learning from them – it was all a part of life. That said, she fervently wished that Cassie had learnt the ultra-harsh life lesson that bad promises are better broken than kept at some other time and place.
Chapter 12: Transitions
“Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It’s the transition that’s troublesome.” ~ Isaac Asimov
“We’re two minutes out from Colonel O’Neill’s cabin,” Air Force Captain Evan Lorne, piloting the helo, informed his three worried passengers. “I’ll try to put her down as close as possible,” he promised, knowing they were anxious to reach the cabin ASAP.
Janet exchanged a glance with Teal’c, who, despite his appearance of stoicism, was as worried about Jack and Charlie as she was. She noted that Cassie, who had been dozing intermittently throughout the flight from Colorado to Minnesota, was stirring, having heard Captain Lorne’s update on their ETA. Just as Janet knew she would, her daughter blamed herself for not speaking up about Charlie’s fears, even though she had promised him she wouldn’t tell. Although everyone at the SCG had tried to tell her it wasn’t her fault, she hadn’t believed them because, having seen what the Goa’uld did to her former planet and what the Reetou Rebels intended to do to Earth, the poor kid was realising some secrets shouldn’t be kept, not even when you promised.
By the time General Hammond arrived at the base, he’d already ordered SG-2 – Major Ferretti’s team to go to Jack’s cabin to provide him with back up. It seemed that Hammond had sent SG-2, led by one of the Colonel’s former team members from the first mission to Abydos, to stay in a lodge at Lake Ham in case Jack required assistance. Janet marvelled at her CO’s seeming prescience, and Hammond admitted that Teal’c had raised the possibility that the NID might try to ‘acquire’ Charlie for nefarious research purposes. Since they’d already attempted to pull off that same scenario when Teal’c was bitten by the alien bug on the deserted planet BP3-6Q1, the general was inclined to take precautions, sending SG-2 to Minnesota for backup.
Unfortunately, the major had called in less than an hour after Charlie’s panicked call to Cassie, confirming that there was no sign of Jack. Even more concerning was that Charlie had also disappeared as well, and there was no clue as to what had happened. Cassie was inconsolable, but Janet was holding onto the thinnest of hope that he had done what he told Cassie he would do and hide. Hopefully, if he heard her and Cassie’s voices calling out to him, he would emerge from wherever he was hiding, although she wished he had taken the satellite phone with him, as Cassie had tried to advise him. If he were hiding, it would make it much easier to find him.
Lorne landed the bird on a flat area, roughly one hundred metres from the log cabin, which had been built over half a century earlier, and all four occupants alighted swiftly, Captain Lorne being the last one out, needing to shut down the helo’s engines, which he did with the practiced ease of someone to whom the sequence came as second nature. Although he was a recent addition to the SCG, being assigned to Major Freeman’s team, SG-9, aside from the compulsory medical checks during his induction and his post-mission exams, Janet hadn’t had a lot to do with him. She did note that he was always kind to her daughter, and she suspected that Cassie might have a teeny, tiny crush on the handsome officer. Her fears were put at ease over his interactions with her impressionable daughter when he’d mentioned on the flight that his sisters had a tribe of kids. He admitted that ever since his transfer to Cheyenne Mountain, he really missed seeing his nieces and nephews on the regular.
General Hammond had handpicked him to not only pilot the helo to get them to the cabin as quickly as possible but to have Janet and Cassie’s six. Teal’c joined the mission to Minnesota not just because he was on SG-1, although obviously that was a part of it. Sam and Daniel were also making their way from Nevada as soon as they could arrange transport to join the search for their team leader and his son, but Teal’c possessed impressive abilities to track individuals that rivalled search and rescue dogs.
The General organised for Search and Rescue, including tracker dogs, to be placed on standby to assist in a wide-scale search of the surrounding area at first light, though everyone was hoping Teal’c would pull off a miracle and locate them. The moment they landed, he had already instituted a perimeter search, looking for tracks, not just Jack’s or Charlie’s (who was of immediate concern due to his poor health), but looking for any clues as to who may have abducted Jack and where they’d gone. Right now, they were operating on the theory that Charlie was hiding and not abducted, and would do so until they had evidence to the contrary.
~o0o~
Immediately after they landed, they split into two groups. Lou Ferretti and his team had been waiting to escort Janet and Cassandra Fraiser into the cabin’s interior. The Fraisers’ first task was to search every inch of O’Neill’s structure to see if there was anywhere in the cabin Charlie might be hiding that SG-2 might have overlooked. Janet agreed, knowing a child and a parent might find hiding spots that might otherwise miss, plus she would know instantly what clothes, if any, were missing from Charlie’s room, having purchased and packed everything he owned.
Teal’c’s first task was to try to find the sick little boy if he had run off in fright, and then figure out who had abducted O’Neill. Teal’c was sure that the only conceivable reason for his friend’s absence when he came here to be with his dying child was if someone had forcibly removed him from his cabin against his will. Wild equines could drag his friend away from the sick little boy who turned out to be his son, of that he was certain.
Given the phone call Charlie O’Neill had made to Cassandra Fraiser several hours ago, he knew that there was a possibility whoever had taken O’Neill had not been interested in the cloned son of his friend or perhaps he would have been taken at the same time. However, it did seem very coincidental that O’Neill would be taken at this time and not be connected to his Reetou detecting offspring.
Captain Lorne, the Air Force pilot who had flown them to the cabin, had accompanied Teal’c, watching the Jaffa’s six and was in radio contact with Major Ferretti, the leader who had replaced Major Kawalsky as SG-2’s commander. Kawalsky had died after a Goa’uld had taken his body, and the doctors had been unsuccessful in removing it. Teal’c knew that Ferretti had been part of O’Neill’s team that had defeated Ra on Abydos, along with Major Kawalsky, and he was extremely loyal to O’Neill. He understood their loyalty. O’Neill was a great warrior and a good man who was fiercely loyal to those who served under him – the antithesis of the Goa’uld War Lords who masqueraded as Gods and demanded the Jaffa worship them.
The pair began their painstaking search, looking for tracks or other signs of evidence outside the cabin. Seeing the captain’s grim expression, Teal’c cocked his left eyebrow, silently inquiring about what intel Major Ferretti had shared.
The young pilot grimaced. “Dr Fraiser says that Charlie isn’t wearing his snow suit or clothes to protect him from the cold.”
Teal’c wondered how she could determine this. Before he could question her assumption, the young officer explained, “She’s sure because she bought his clothes and packed them for their trip, and she said they’re all still in the dresser.”
Frowning, Teal’c observed, “That is not good news. While it has been several days since the last snowfall, the temperature is still barely above freezing.”
Teal’c noted a faint impression on the ground, some footprints, wearing what he believed to be a child’s sneakers, outside a window where the glass had been broken. He pointed this out to the captain.
“I believe that Charlie O’Neill broke the window and climbed out,” he stated.
“How can you be sure that someone didn’t smash the window to abduct the boy?” Lorne asked curiously.
“Ask Major Ferretti if there is any glass inside by the window?” Teal’c requested.
He squatted down to examine the ground as Lorne communicated with his superior, as Teal’c catalogued the shattered glass on the ground and the fibres in the glass that remained in the window frame. This indicated to him that O’Neill’s son had escaped through the window.
“Ferretti said there is no glass,” he conveyed to Teal’c, who nodded,
He already knew this would be the case, as he swiftly started tracking the small footprints. What the Jaffa warrior did not know, however, was why Charlie O’Neill had run away, because there was no sign that someone was chasing him. They followed the footprints that led to a much smaller secondary building roughly 60 metres from the cabin.
“What is the purpose of this structure?” Teal’c inquired of his companion.
“Probably a woodshed, maybe also somewhere to store stuff. Didn’t the Colonel bring a quad bike up here when they flew in? I didn’t see it outside,” he observed. “If the Colonel has a generator, he’d need somewhere to store the gas to run it, but wouldn’t want it too close to the cabin.”
The footprints, although having been somewhat trampled by SG-2 in their initial search for O’Neill and Charlie, were clear enough to the experienced tracker.
Teal’c realised at some point the boy entered this structure. “Find out if Major Ferretti’s team looked inside, Captain.”
As Lorne radioed for information, Teal’c opened the door and saw several partial footprints, dried mud that indicated Charlie O’Neill had indeed gone inside. Teal’c made his way further in, noting a large pile of neatly stacked and seasoned wood in one corner and various items stacked neatly in another corner – some things he recognised, like outdoor furniture – chairs and a table, and other things he didn’t. He noted the snowshoes hanging on the wall, which to his trained eye, looked old and the much newer skies and poles.
He did not know that O’Neill skied, but then he had always refused his invitation to visit his cabin since Daniel Jackson and Captain Carter were quick to make excuses when they were invited. Teal’c had inferred that there was some reason why they found reasons not to attend and made excuses of his own. Perhaps if he had accepted one of O’Neill’s prior invitations, the Jaffa concluded regretfully, he might have taken Teal’c up on his offer to accompany him and Charlie to his cabin to watch his six. He had understood his friend’s desire for privacy, but Teal’c, as a father himself, would not have judged him for his grief when he lost a second son.
There was no weakness in mourning the death of your child. Perhaps he should have expressed that sentiment to O’Neill. His presence might have prevented whatever they were dealing with from occurring. Cassandra Fraiser revealed that O’Neill was not sleeping because Charlie was afraid of a grey being he saw. If Teal’c had been there, they could have taken turns to watch the small boy.
He silently noted the small metal boat that was overturned in another corner and that Captain Lorne was checking it to make sure that the small boy wasn’t hiding underneath it. Meanwhile, the Jaffa approached one of two tarpaulin-covered mounds in the middle of the room, pulling off the canvas covering what he expected to be the quad bike, desperately hoping that Charlie O’Neill was hiding there, but there was no sign of him. In his head, Teal’c knew that SG-2 had reported to Captain Lorne that they had already searched this building, but he had been hoping that the youngster was hiding, if he was scared of strangers whom he did not know. He might have slipped outside, then gotten cold and returned when he thought it was safe. Unfortunately, there was no sign of him, and he turned to watch as the captain pulled the tarp off another vehicle that Teal’c was unfamiliar with.
Seeing his quizzical expression, the captain explained, “It’s for transportation on frozen or snow-covered terrain. It has different names, a snowmobile, a skidoo, or sometimes it’s called a snowcat. Instead of wheels, it has metal skis to help it glide and steer over the icy terrain, like skis do. Some of the larger, fancier models, especially the military versions of the snowcats, have tracks like an armoured vehicle,” he told the bemused Jaffa before shrugging. “Yeah, but that isn’t important right now. Where could he have gone?” he said angrily.
As they were heading out the door to see if they could find any more footprints, Teal’c’s ears detected an anomaly. He stopped and returned to the snowmobile before retracing his steps towards the door. There it was again. He saw Captain Lorne side-eye him in confusion.
“There is a tunnel underneath this structure,” he said with authority, having detected a change in the vibration of his footsteps, indicating there was an open space underneath them in the middle of the room. It could explain how Charlie O’Neill entered the building and disappeared.
Lorne shook his head. “I’d hazard a guess that if there is something under the woodshed, it is much more likely to be a root cellar,” he told the Jaffa, who was now trying to locate a possible entrance.
As the captain joined in the search, Teal’c turned to the officer and quirked one eyebrow, his way of indicating confusion. “I do not understand. Why would O’Neill have a secret room to imprison someone selling roots? Surely, this is not a crime in Minnesota?”
While the pilot didn’t laugh at him, Teal’c detected amusement in his voice. “No, Teal’c, a root cellar is a name for a room that is purpose-built underground, sometimes into a hill, or even set up in an existing basement to store and preserve food supplies for long periods, such as root vegetables, preserved fruit and vegetables, canned goods and dehydrated food. Before refrigerators became common appliances in homes, many houses had root cellars,” he explained patiently.
Teal’c nodded, immediately understanding, as they had similar food storage methods on Chulak. “I see. If O’Neill told him of the hidden room, it would make sense that he would hide there, he said gravely. “We must find the entrance, he stated, somewhat unnecessarily.
“I think I already have, the captain told him, pointing at a scrap of rope on the ground under the outdoor table and chairs in a space that a small boy could have squeezed into without shifting the furniture.
As neither man was a small child, they were forced to move the table and chairs out of the way so they could determine if it was a trapdoor with a rope used to open it up. As they peered down into the dark hole, the two males could see a glimmer of light, which the captain guessed was a flashlight, as Teal’c nodded. Accessing the room, which appeared to be used to store a reasonable quantity of preserved foods and vegetables, seemed to be by way of a simple wooden ladder. Lorne, who was shorter and a lot less bulky than the former Prime of Apophis, suggested he go first, making sure the ladder would bear the greater weight of the Jaffa.
Teal’c nodded. “Indeed. I believe that is a sensible precaution.” He knew if Charlie O’Neill was hiding, he was less likely to fear Captain Lorne, who was less physically intimidating, plus he was not a Jaffa.
Descending the ladder gingerly at first, but when he was halfway down and there were no creaking or rotten rungs cracking under his weight, the captain informed Teal’c that the ladder appeared to be relatively modern, he proceeded down it as soon as the Air Force officer had reached the bottom and headed towards the weak glow of the flashlight. As he reached the second last step, he heard Captain Lorne curse under his breath and radio Major Ferretti to bring the Doc and blankets, but leave Cassie in the cabin. As Teal’c reached the bottom of the root cellar and made his way over to the small boy, who was unresponsive, Lorne had already taken off his jacket and wrapped it snugly around the boy to conserve warmth. The captain was sitting on the cold earth and cradling him on his lap.
Teal’c shined their powerful portable light on the child and did not like what they saw. Charlie had a blue tinge to his face, and from his years as Apophis’ Prime, having seen his Jaffa warriors’ suffering from exposure, he suspected the boy’s extremities would be, too. However, bundled up snugly in the captain’s jacket, it was impossible to make that assessment. He also noted that while it was extremely cold, the temperature in the root cellar was a few degrees warmer than it was outside.
Staring at the still form of Jack O’Neill’s son, he dared to ask, “Is Charlie O’Neill alive?”
“His pulse is weak and thready, and his breathing is very shallow. He’s hypothermic and barely hanging on,” Lorne told him grimly.
Hearing Ferretti entering the woodshed, Teal’c headed back up the ladder to report on Charlie’s dire condition. After a brief consultation and the doctor’s cursory examination, Janet ordered that they get him back to the cabin STAT, which Teal’c had learnt from his time at the SGC was a term the medical staff tended to yell when something was urgent.
Reacting swiftly, he wrapped the boy in the thermal blanket that Janet thrust at him. Teal’c picked up the frail child, carrying him effortlessly up the ladder, crossing to the door of the shed, heading back to Jack’s cabin.
~o0o~
They made Charlie a bed by the fire. Teal’c brought his mattress out from his room, and they piled him up with blankets to slowly warm him up. Cassie crawled in to snuggle with him; her eyes silently pleaded with Janet to save him, but Janet knew that hypothermia on top of his already rapidly failing heart and other crucial organs was just too big a hurdle for the brave little boy to overcome. He had roused once, wanting to know if they had found his father yet, but so far, there was no clue to who had abducted Jack, although General Hammond had dispatched a team of scientists to the cabin as soon as he could after Captain Lorne confirmed the Colonel’s disappearance. They hoped that the scientists would be able to figure out who had taken him, but even if they worked out who, there was still the problem of figuring out how to get him back, especially in time to be with Charlie.
After Cassie had revealed that Charlie claimed to have been visited by grey Oompa Loompa, it became apparent that aliens, not humans, were the most likely culprits for his disappearance, which was why the Tok’ra Selmak/Jacob, Anise/Freya were on their way, along with Sam and Daniel to help figure out what was going on. SG-2 was patrolling outside, watching their six.
Meanwhile, Captain Lorne, Teal’c, Janet and Cassie were holding vigil, hoping that Jack could be found in time to be with Charlie when he died, although Janet was positive that it was a false hope. His poor, stressed heart was almost spent. She suspected that Teal’c knew it too, since he clutched at the last straw that they all hoped could heal Jack’s son.
“What of the sarcophagus at Area 51? I understood that the Tok’ra expert had discovered why it wouldn’t work?” the Jaffa’s deep voice resonated in the silent cabin, the only other sounds coming from the crackling of the fire.
Janet sighed. “That’s true. Apparently, due to the cannibalising of the sarcophagus from at least three different sarcophagi, it requires it to be activated by someone who possesses the Ancients’ gene.”
“Who are the Ancients? Can the Tok’ra find them?” Captain Lorne asked, shooting an angst-filled look at the small boy slowly slipping away.
“Selmak, Jacob’s Tok’ra symbiote, says they were the ones who built the Stargate system, a highly advanced humanoid race. They created the sarcophagi for healing, but the Goa’uld used them to extend the host’s lifespan. King Pyrus on Entera, who used it every day, was 700 years old when he finally died,” Janet noted, glad to be able to fill the suffocating silence in the cabin.
“Anise and Freya believe from the texts they consulted, someone with Ancient genes, is needed to switch on the sarcophagus since it is essentially a new unit rebuilt with the combined of spare crystals from three separate sarcophagi,” Janet continued, as she relayed the news that Sam had told her during their phone call some hours ago at Cheyenne Mountain.
“So, we need to find these Ancients, then,” the captain observed.
“Ah, well, that’s the problem, Captain. According to the Tok’ra, they disappeared many centuries ago. They were rumoured to have ascended to a higher realm of existence. The Tok’ra have no idea how to find them or even if there are any of them left in our galaxy to find.”
“Therefore, our trip to King Pyrus’ planet was a doomed mission,” Teal’c stated grimly. “Has Dr Lee’s team had any luck contacting the Nox?”
“There has been no response from the Nox, and it is difficult to know if it is because they aren’t receiving our messages or they are simply ignoring us. Selmak believes that some of the Ancients spent time here on Earth and that they were rumoured to have interbred with the humans. Apparently, their obsession with ascending to a higher plane and their genetic tinkering to help make it happen caused fertility problems. The Tok’ra believed this was overcome by mating with humans here on Earth who could have chosen to remain on Earth to rear their offspring.”
“There must still be some of these Ancients even if the Tok’ra do not know of them,” Teal’c stated.
“What makes you think that?” Lorne asked curiously.
“Did not the Ancients help O’Neill when he had their database of knowledge by removing it?” he asked.
Janet shrugged, not entirely convinced, but now wasn’t the time to be nitpicking. “Perhaps you’re right, Teal’c, but it doesn’t help us to get back there to check since the device only worked for a once only trip. Sergeant Silar and his engineers are still trying to backwards engineer it.”
She wished it had helped them now, but it didn’t. Not that she didn’t recognise the benefits of having a working sarcophagus if they could locate someone with the Ancients’ genes who could reactivate it.
Lorne looked confused. “So, how does that help us find someone with an unknown gene?”
“It doesn’t. Not really. All the scientists and military personnel who have Stargate security clearance will be asked to try to switch to sarcophagus on. Sam, Dr McKay and his team and Daniel have already tried but were unsuccessful. If they locate someone who can switch it on, the scientists can map that person’s genome and figure out a way to identify others who have the gene, if they exist.”
“So, trial and error to maybe locate someone with the elusive gene, but even if we find someone, it won’t come quickly enough,” Evan Lorne summed up the situation tactfully, knowing full well that Cassie was listening, bitterly disappointed.
The SCG’s chief medical officer silently shook her head. They had run out of time.
Teal’c stood up, saying he would check in with Ferretti, but Janet figured the stoic Jaffa warrior wanted some time to collect himself. The captain stood up, offering to make them all some hot chocolate if he could find the supplies, and with a glance at Cassie’s pinched white face, she nodded, accepting his kind gesture gratefully.
After Lorne headed to the kitchen area, giving them an illusion of privacy, her daughter turned tear-filled eyes on Janet, whispering so she didn’t wake Charlie, “Can’t you do anything, Mom?”
Walking over to the side of the bed and sitting down so she could hug her girl, she shook her head. “Charlie was already a very sick little boy when he came here,” she explained. “By Mother speeding up his growth artificially, it switched on his aging genes that shouldn’t have been activated for decades, accelerating their aging to such a degree that his body wore out much too fast. The Tok’ra thought if he took a symbiote, they might be able to heal him, but Charlie had been taught to fear the Goa’uld, and the Tok’ra seemed too much like the aliens who were trying to murder the Reetou.”
Cassie nodded. “Yeah, I understand how he feels. Sam liked Jolinar, but I didn’t. She said she’d kill me if I told on her,” she said shakily.
“That seems a lot like a Goa’uld to me,” Janet reassured her. “I’d mistrust them too in your shoes.”
“Me too,” Evan Lorne said softly as he handed her a mug of hot chocolate. Cassie smiled thinly at him, accepting the hot drink and his support with gratitude.
“Why wouldn’t that Nox family help us? Jack said the family they met had a boy called Nefrayu, whom Apophis killed, and his family healed him. They brought him back from the dead like they did for Jack, Sam, Daniel and Teal’c. They even saved the Jaffa who killed the Nox lady and hurt Teal’c, so why wouldn’t they answer our call for help? Charlie is a good person, and he doesn’t deserve to die – he’s just a kid,” she was whisper-yelling.
He roused and opened his eyes briefly. “It’s okay, Cassie. Don’t be sad. I got to spend time with my dad. It was great.” His eyes slid shut as he whispered weakly, “Have you found him yet?” he asked hopefully.
Cassie looked agonisingly at Janet, who stroked his cheek. “Not yet, but everyone is looking, sweetheart. We’ll find him, don’t worry,”
“I’m so tired. I want to say goodbye, but I don’t think I can stay much longer,” he confessed wearily as Janet embraced him in a hug that he melted into with a soft sigh.
Cassie sobbed, and her mother felt torn, wanting to console her distraught daughter but also needing to be there for the little boy who so desperately needed to feel loved and comforted in his final minutes. Lorne must have recognised her dilemma because he scooped Cassie up and placed her on his lap as he hugged the grief-stricken youngster as she started to cry in earnest.
“If it’s time for you to go, Charlie, it’s okay. Your dad will understand,” Janet told him calmly. “He loves you so much,” she reassured him as he sighed.
“Tell him not to be sad. I’m glad he didn’t make me go with the Tok’ra and that I got to know him,” he said, and then he fell silent.
Cassie stopped crying abruptly and looked at her mother. “Has he gone?” she whispered, looking as if her heart was breaking. Janet figured it probably was.
“No, he’s sleeping for now, but it won’t be long, hon,” she told her gently.
Nodding grimly, she returned to the topic of the Nox that they’d been discussing before her outburst had roused Charlie briefly. “I don’t understand. Why won’t the Nox help him, Mom?”
“Maybe they never received the messages we sent them,” Lorne told her gently.”
“But why didn’t they get our messages?” she argued, desperately needing someone to blame.
“We think they buried their gate,” Janet said.
“But they came by the Stargate for those people from the volcano planet. The super rude guy and the one who was all mushy over Sam, and then she gave him her cat, Schrödinger. I would never give Elto away just because I was crushing on some stupid alien. What did he even know about looking after a cat anyway? How did Sam know he wouldn’t eat him?” she huffed, her moral outrage obvious.
Still, as she exchanged an amused look with the captain, who was trying not to snigger, Janet thought she had a point. Although it hadn’t been her idea to get a dog, she had to admit that Elto had kinda grown on her, and she could see how good he was for Cassie. No way would she send him off to a distant planet with some tall, dark and handsome, but ultimately, wimpy alien. Narim made weak excuses for Omak’s rudeness when SG-1 had saved his people’s lives, and he’d also acted like a boorish, ungrateful jerk to the people of other worlds who generously offered them sanctuary.
“Yes, they did,” Janet acknowledged.
Honestly, she had no idea that her daughter was so well informed about all the scuttlebutt and operational details of the various missions, but she supposed she shouldn’t be too surprised. When Janet was rostered for the night shift, Cassie would always stay on base with Janet, sleeping in their family quarters. Since she was from Hanka and already knew about the Stargate, it was obvious that personnel were rather lax about what they shared when she was around.
“But the Tollans had a special communication device that they used to contact the Nox. They didn’t try to send a message through the Stargate like we are because they buried it after SG-1’s visit,” she explained to Cassie.
“Why would they do that? They are so advanced; don’t they want to help other planets that need assistance?” Cassie demanded, her eyes flashing with righteous indignation over the fate of the unconscious child in Janet’s embrace, as his life slowly slipped away.
“They thought we were too violent, and they are a peaceful race. They don’t like killing,” Evan explained as she suddenly realised in embarrassment that she was still sitting in his lap, clutching his jacket and slid onto the sofa beside him, flushing.
Oh yeah, her barely teenage daughter had such a crush on the handsome captain, and Janet was just relieved that her first crush was on a man who would let her down gently.
“That’s not fair. We didn’t attack the Goa’uld, they attacked us. Nirti killed my whole family, my mother and father, my little brother Whillin, and all my aunts, uncles and cousins, even baby Ebbi, who was only a week old. She killed everyone on Hanka; she even killed the SGC team from Earth, and we never did anything to deserve it. The only reason she didn’t kill me too was because she wanted to turn me into a bomb to blow up Earth and everyone in it; I was just a kid, but she didn’t care that I would die too,” she ranted softly but with vehemence.
Janet reckoned she had a good point. As a doctor, she had sworn an oath to protect life, killing was not something she would undertake lightly, yet she was damned if she would stand by and not defend herself, her child or an innocent life from the Goa’uld if they tried to kill them. Although Janet would never admit to it, if she ever had the misfortune to run into Nirti, she would happily kill that Goa’uld bitch. She was evil personified and didn’t deserve to live, no matter what the Nox believed. Janet was sure she wouldn’t lose a moment’s sleep over her actions.
Lorne took Cassie’s small hand in his much larger one and squeezed it gently as she blushed even harder while sneaking sideways looks at the good-looking officer. Janet noted with both a sense of relief and empathy for the teen that Evan was careful not to notice.
“I’m sorry that Nirti destroyed all of the people on Hanka…all your family, Cassie,” he said sincerely. “It WAS evil, and you’re absolutely right; your people didn’t deserve what happened. And I’m sad to say, even on Earth, some people live in places that are very safe or have lots of money and can buy properties that cannot be attacked, who believe that it is wrong to kill anyone, no matter what.
“I think if they were being attacked by a Goa’uld like Nirti, and they thought they were going to die, that they’d change their minds pretty damn fast and have no problem killing, if it saved their lives or their loved ones,” he told her sadly.
“What’s wrong with the Nox that they can’t see the difference between monsters like Nirti and Apophis and the people they attack and want to kill us for just existing? And if they’re so advanced, why don’t they help protect the people that are being attacked who didn’t do anything to deserve it?” the sole remaining survivor of the planet Hanka demanded passionately.
Janet looked grim. “There was a terrible war on Earth sixty years ago, Cass. Evil men were wiping out a group of people they believed were racially inferior to themselves, and America watched on and did nothing because we were very far away from their war, and we weren’t being threatened, although some people wanted to help. We had a massive military force, but the people felt like it had nothing to do with us, so although we gave them some weapons, we didn’t help fight the evil men. Not until the evil men attacked us and then we finally entered the war and helped the Allies to defeat the Fascists, but not before millions of people had died before we started fighting for our freedom. By then, other evil dictators had joined the war on the side of our enemies, to fight, so the battle was much harder than if we had helped defend the innocent when the fascists first started killing them, simply because they hated them existing.”
“Why would Americans do that?” Cassie said, shocked that her new country would be so evil as to turn its back on innocent people who had done nothing to deserve being slaughtered, just like her family on Hanka.”
Captain Lorne looked grim. “Because America is a rich country, and a lot of the obscenely rich people didn’t like the idea of spending America’s money fighting to stand up for other people. Especially when they believed our country wouldn’t be attacked so long as we didn’t fight,” he said with a shrug, exchanging a look with Janet, acknowledging that the geopolitical antecedents to America joining WWII were complex, but that this wasn’t the right time for an in-depth lesson in politics and appeasement policies.
“Even though we were and still are one of the richest nations on Earth, we do a bad job of looking out for our poorest folk. Many live on the streets,” Janet told Cassie sadly.
She thought of the drug addicts, the sexually abused children and teens, fleeing from bad parents, the mentally ill, discharged en masse from mental asylums and the huge number of military veterans left high and dry, trying to cope with shocking PTSD, sleeping and dying on the streets of major cities in one of the richest countries in the world. Well, rich in terms of monetary measures. Juxtapose that with millionaires and billionaires in their gated enclaves living in ostentatious and obscene wealth existing practically alongside the poor. It was a damning indictment, and adding insult to injury, many of the wealthy had the unmitigated gall to blame victims for their misfortune. Janet Fraiser was sickened by it as a mother, an officer in the Air Force, as a doctor and simply as a caring human being.
“We got too comfortable, like the Nox. Thought nothing bad could happen to us…until it did. Perhaps one day, the more advanced races who believe killing and violence is wrong, no matter what the provocation, like the Tollan and the Nox might learn the hard way that no matter how safe they think they are, there will always be evil people like the Goa’uld ready to wipe them out, just like they have with less advanced planets like Hanka,” Evan Lorne said gravely.
“Good! I hope they suffer,” Cassie said furiously, then looked across at her adopted mother cradling Charlie. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb him,” she said, looking chagrined.
Janet gave her a watery smile and said, “No risk of that, Sweetheart. Charlie is at peace now.”
Cassie let out a cry of anguish that sliced right through Janet’s already broken heart. Losing any patient was hard on a doctor; losing a child was much worse. Losing a little boy who had become like family was brutal, and for all her medical training and years of education and study, not being able to save him was torture like no other. What if it had been Cassandra?
“He’s dead? Noooo! He can’t be. Jack never got to say goodbye,” she screamed with grief, as Lorne carefully took Charlie out of Janet’s arms so she could go to her to offer physical comfort to the grieving teen. Cassie grabbed onto her, and her mom held her tight as she sobbed her heart out.
Janet knew enough about grief to know that while Cassie was mourning the death of a small eight-year-old boy, she was also grieving for all that she lost on Hanka. Last year, when they found her hiding amongst the dead bodies strewn around the area near the Stargate, she had been far too traumatised by the genocide of her people to physically grieve for them. Hell, Janet might have suspected that Cassie wasn’t an only child, but a year after her arrival on Earth, this was the first time she had mentioned having a brother. A dead brother murdered by Nirti!
Janet let her daughter cry herself out, not attempting to stem her tears for Charlie and her family. She needed this, and Janet wasn’t ashamed to say that she cried a bucketload of tears along with her daughter, not even caring that Captain Lorne was present.
As Janet stared at her daughter holding on for dear life to Charlie’s lifeless hand, and she studied the countenance of her patient who had lived for such a brief moment in time, she thought about what the American writer and biochemist, Isaac Asimov, had to say about life and death. “Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It’s the transition that’s troublesome.”
She sighed sadly. At best, Charlie’s life had only spanned a few short months, but at the very end of it, with Jack, she hoped it was pleasant, maybe even great. Holding him as he took his last breaths, she could testify to the truth that his death was peaceful, and she was grateful for that small comfort, and that he did not die alone but was with people who loved him. But oh, the transition between had been difficult – horrible really and they still had no clue as to where Jack was or who had taken him. He was going to be inconsolable when he learned that Charlie couldn’t wait for him.
Almost an hour later, she looked around to see that Lorne had laid Charlie O’Neill on the makeshift bed near the fireplace. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was merely sleeping, he did look peaceful. She also noted that Teal’c and Lou Ferretti had returned to the cabin, looking almost as devastated as she felt. Captain Lorne informed her that the ETA on the contingent from Nellis Air Base was approximately 15 minutes out.
Ferretti went to make hot drinks for everyone, and with Cassie now clutching Charlie’s hand gently as Janet stroked her back, asked plaintively, “So according to those advanced races, we are just supposed to stand around and let the Goa’uld wipe us all out of existence because it is wrong to kill?”
Before anyone had a chance to answer such a loaded question, there were series of thuds coming from the room that Charlie had used as a bedroom Everyone looked up in alarm, but before they could responded, there were a series of grunts and a cry of pain followed by a curse that had Teal’c on his feet, his Zat’nik’tel weapon drawn, ready to fire as he raced to investigate. Before he could reach the bedroom, the door was flung violently open as Colonel Jack O’Neill, missing without a clue as to where he’d gone, hurtled through the doorway, calling frantically for his son.
His momentum stuttered momentarily as he took in the individuals in the room. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded before shaking his head. “Has anyone seen Charlie? He’s not in his bed, and I didn’t hear him get up. I must have been more tired than I tho…” he stopped mid-sentence, finally taking in the scene by the fireplace.
Charlie was laid out on the mattress they had taken from Jack’s bedroom, deathly still. Cassie was holding onto his hand like she would never let go, with clear evidence of the copious tears she’d shed, and Janet, rubbing Cassie’s back soothingly, wasn’t in much better shape. As he swiftly made his way to his son, the others in the room could tell that the realisation of what had occurred had already hit him as he gathered up the frail body of his son.
“No, he can’t be dead. We were supposed to have more time together. Not yet. Why didn’t anyone wake me up? He wasn’t supposed to die alone,” he shouted, grief-stricken.”
Janet tried to explain to the shattered father. “We couldn’t wake you because you weren’t here, Jack. Charlie called Cassie, terrified because he said that a grey being had abducted you.”
“Staring at her aghast, as tears started welling, he asked, “He wasn’t dreaming? That was real?”
“I’m afraid so. We came as fast as we could, but there was no clue where you’d gone.”
“He must have been so afraid. I promised him I’d watch his six, but I must have dozed off,” he said brokenly as he started rocking his son’s body. “Oh, Charlie, I let you down. I’m so sorry,” he said, breaking down as his tears started to flow.
Cassie attempted to explain to him that Charlie hadn’t died alone, that her mom was holding him when he slipped away, and they had all been there with him, but Jack didn’t seem to be listening to her.
By mutual consent, Ferretti, Teal’c and Lorne started to head toward the front door of the cabin, not wanting to intrude on his deeply intense private grief, but were halted in their tracks halfway to the front door as a familiar voice started to chant in a unfamiliar language, Turning around they were greeted by the sight of O’Neill seated on the bed with the dead child on his lap as he held one hand to his son’s small chest and the other one to his small bald head, as he spoke in a strange language.
Janet, who had read Jack’s redacted personnel file, knew he spoke Russian fluently and several languages of other countries in the former USSR, including Ukrainian, Armenian and, less fluently, Lithuanian. After his capture and imprisonment for more than three months after a black op went bad, he’d also become somewhat fluent in Arabic, but this language sounded nothing like any of those languages. If she had to categorise it, it sounded like Latin, yet different. While she didn’t speak the language per se, as a doctor, she was familiar with many Latin root words and prefixes. Though in the far reaches of her own grief-stricken mind, she felt as if she‘d heard it or something similar before.
What worried her more than the weird chanting and the unfamiliar language was the vacant look in the colonel’s eyes. It was like he was in some kind of trance or fugue state. She could see Teal’c eyeing her, silently asking if they should intercede, but she shook her head. While he wasn’t hurting anyone, himself included, she felt it was better to let it just play out. She knew that Jack had been brought up Catholic, although recently, one night after he’d eaten dinner with her and Cassie, he’d confessed that even before he lost his firstborn son, he’d never had much time for organised religion.
However, with intense grief, she knew people often sought solace in religion. This could be some sort of prayer for the dead, and she was in no position to judge, since if anything happened to Cassie, she would probably lose her mind. Besides, one of her great, great uncles on her mother’s side had spoken in tongues, so who was she to judge? As long as Jack was no danger to himself or others, she’d support his need to grieve even if it seemed bizarre, and she noted that Louis, Teal’c and Lorne all seemed transfixed by his chanting. Maybe it was just because he didn’t seem like the type of guy to chant.
So, while she was prepared to put his unorthodox behaviour down to grief, she also noted with unease that it was if he was exuding some sort of charismatic force that, even while they felt like they were intruding on his grief, also made it impossible to take their eyes off him and Charlie, or walk away. Janet felt all the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck become erect, and her skin felt all tingly.
In fact, Janet noticed that the only one in the room who seemed unfazed by Jack’s out-of-character behaviour was Cassie. She was completely ignoring him; her entire focus was directed solely on the little boy whose hand she held so tenderly. Perhaps in her memories, she was saying goodbye; not to Charlie O’Neill, lying there before her, but her little brother Whillin. If any good came out of this horrible tragedy, maybe it would be that Cassie could finally mourn the loss of her family on Hanka. Since all of the corpses had been highly infectious due to the deadly virus Nirti used to infect the Hankans, disposal of their remains had been done by burning every single man, woman and child, including the bodies of SG-7. There had been no chance to mourn for her parents, brother or the rest of her family with a proper burial, so it was little wonder that she never spoke of them.
Now, as Janet watched her daughter grieve, she suddenly noticed Cassie jerk in surprise. As she wondered what was responsible, she observed the girl turn and stare hard at Jack, right before Charlie’s body began to glow. At first, it was barely noticeable, but with each passing second, his body glowed more intensely, and Janet wished she had her sunglasses handy when the glare hurt her eyes.
Even as she began to freak out, never having encountered a dead body glowing like that in all her years as a doctor, she vaguely registered the familiar sound of a helicopter approaching. Sam, Daniel and Selmak/Jacob, she realised as an aside; she remained almost completely focused on what was going on in the cabin. As the glow of Charlie’s body grew brighter, she experienced a genuine flash of concern over why he might be glowing, wondering if it was an unexpected artifact of his cloning by the Reetou.
Were they in danger? She felt an overwhelming urge to grab Cassie and run outside, but her self-preservation urge to do so came far too late. Even as she began to stand, there was an ultra-bright flash of pure white light that momentarily blinded everyone present, their eyes stinging sharply like acid had been sprayed at them.
Chapter 13: The Ancients’ History
“Genetics is not just about the genes we inherit, but how we use them.” – Richard Dawkins
As Janet Fraiser’s eyes gradually recovered from the blinding explosive light, her vision slowly swam back into focus. She noted Jack sat, looking around in a confused state, but at least he no longer seemed to be in a trance, nor was he chanting in a weird language. Cassie looked like she was in shock, which, since she and Jack were closest to the flash of light, made sense. However, what didn’t make sense was the teen’s look of pure elation and joy. That was when her mother realised what had caused such excitement in Cassie and confusion in Jack. Charlie O’Neill’s eyes were open, and he was smiling at Jack and Cassie.
Janet decided she must be seeing things. At that point, the boy sat up and hugged his father. who returned the embrace fiercely while shooting a dirty look at Janet.
“I thought you said he was…D.E.A.D.,” he said, spelling out the word because they both knew Charlie couldn’t spell, read or write.
Simultaneously, Charlie proclaimed the obvious. “You came back, Dad. How did you get away from the grey Oompa Loompa?” he demanded fearfully, clutching hold of his father with a grim determination not to let go now they were reunited.
As Ferretti, Lorne, and Teal’c exchanged looks of confusion over what had just happened, they heard a pounding of footfalls on the porch outside. The front door of the log cabin was flung violently open as Captain Carter, Daniel Jackson, and General Carter/Selmak thundered into the room, their weapons drawn as they demanded to know if everyone was okay. Once it was established that everyone was unharmed, although they were dazed, and some reported that their eyesight was a little blurry thanks to exposure to the intense blast of light, chaos broke out.
General Carter and Sam were trying to get sitreps from the witnesses, Daniel was trying to ascertain what happened to Jack and how he’d gotten free, while Jack was looking overwhelmed and more than a little on edge as he embraced his son, who he believed to be dead but was now clearly alive. Charlie seemed to be on the verge of an emotional meltdown, causing Janet to attempt to take control.
Looking at the Jaffa who nodded, understanding her plea, he took control. “Silence,” his deep bass thundered out, shouting them all down. “You are all frightening Charlie O’Neill.”
As people stopped and stared guiltily at the boy who was now sobbing in Jack’s arms, affected by the maelstrom of emotions and energy in the cabin, Janet nodded gratefully.
“Thank you, Teal’c,” she said gratefully.
“You are most welcome, Dr Fraiser,” he said, bowing formally as the rest of the adults in the room exchanged sheepish looks.
She walked over to Jack, who was rocking his son, laying a gentle hand on his arm as he jerked at her touch. “Colonel, will you and Charlie please come with me so I can examine him?”
He silently stood up from the makeshift bed by the fireplace, carrying Charlie into his bedroom, where they could gain some much-needed privacy. As soon as Janet shut the door, chaos erupted with their departure.
~o0o~
Fifteen minutes later, Janet concluded her physical examination of Charlie O’Neill, feeling more confused than when she started. While she wanted further medical testing, including full CBC and CMP, plus X-ray and imaging tests, as far as she could tell, he seemed in much better shape than he was before she discharged him from the SGC infirmary seven days ago. Which just wasn’t possible, since even with multiple healing sessions using the Goa’uld handheld healing device by Selmak, his medical condition was grave. Every single major organ, his heart, lungs, kidneys, liver and minor ones were still almost at the point of failing, the consequences of which were life-threatening. Which is exactly what had happened.
Janet had pronounced his death less than two hours ago, and while there were rare cases of frozen bodies being declared dead and coming back to life, which had led to the ruling that a frozen body needed to be thawed before they could be declared dead, Charlie wasn’t frozen. Yes, he suffered from hypothermia, it was true, but he was not frozen.
Equally, beyond rhyme or reason, the human brain couldn’t go longer than a handful of minutes before hypoxia (lack of oxygen to the brain) caused irreversible cellular death, and brain damage occurred. He had been dead for several hours before Jack returned and…well, Janet had no clue how to describe what happened. Only that Jack started chanting, speaking in a language she couldn’t identify and then Charlie started glowing until finally he exploded in a blinding light and was brought back to life. Even more…miraculous, although Janet was loath to use that expression or an even more dangerous and emotionally charged one, as in resurrected (even if that’s essentially what occurred), he showed no cognitive impairment, let alone the serious degree of damage to his brain she would have expected.
If Janet was being honest, the whole other worldliness of what occurred scared her, and she wanted to get him back to the base ASAP so she could carry out an exhaustive medical evaluation. Having determined that Charlie was indeed alive and a lot healthier than he was back in Cheyenne Mountain, she turned her attention to Jack. Physically, he seemed fine, although he was suffering from moderate dehydration, and he was still more than a little disorientated.
Of greater concern to her was his memory loss, as he had no idea that he had been taken by someone who, according to his son’s description, was not human, nor could he account for what occurred while he was missing. Therefore, it was hardly a surprise that Jack didn’t have the foggiest idea how he had been returned to the cabin, and Janet found it hard to believe his abductor had sneaked him past Major Ferretti’s team, who were patrolling the perimeter around the cabin.
Initially, he’d still found it difficult to accept he’d been abducted and was missing for hours. It took the combined efforts of her and Charlie to convince him otherwise, starting with the middle-of-the-night call for help after Charlie said the grey Oompa Loompa took him while he was asleep. His son explained how, with Jack not having his six, he was scared and decided to hide in case the monster returned to get him, too. Hearing how General Hammond mobilised SG-2, who were already stationed in Lake Ham, just in case of trouble, to come to Charlie’s aid after his frantic call, sobered him deeply. Especially when Janet revealed that the little boy was missing, too, when they reached the cabin.
Then Janet revealed that she, Cassie and Teal’c had departed from Colorado ASAP, flown into Minnesota by helo, piloted by Captain Evan Lorne of SG-8 in the middle of the night so the Jaffa could try to track Charlie. Realising his son had been left alone and terrified had been a bitter pill for Jack to swallow. Especially when O’Neill learnt Charlie was hiding in the root cellar without warm clothes because he had been too scared to dress properly, ending up hypothermic when Teal’c and Lorne eventually found him. Jack reacted very badly to her sitrep!
She could tell that Jack was distraught, angry and full of guilt for falling asleep when he promised to watch his son’s six and failed him. Having accepted that he had been missing for hours, he was livid but trying hard to contain that anger, lest Charlie think he was mad at him. The little boy might have come back from the dead (as ludicrous as it sounded to her), but he was still emotionally and psychologically very fragile. Between the volatile and guilt-riddled colonel and the extremely clingy little boy who had seen his father abducted by an alien being, she was aware that everyone needed to tread carefully in trying to investigate what happened. There were two huge elephants in the room that needed addressing – first off, what had happened to Jack, and how did Charlie miraculously return from the dead?
Knowing that when they emerged from the bedroom following her examination of the father and son, everyone would be demanding answers, she felt duty-bound to prepare them for what awaited them when they returned to face everyone. She briefly delivered a sitrep of what had occurred when Jack had stumbled out of Charlie’s room, hours after he’d gone missing. Unfortunately, it proved to be an even harder task to convince Jack that somehow, he’d brought his son back from the dead than it had been to convince him he’d been abducted by a little grey being.
Janet was also loath to broach her suspicions (until she had irrefutable medical tests to back her up) that he hadn’t just brought him back from the dead but somehow made him healthier than he was, even with healing by Selmak with the Goa’uld healing device. She didn’t want to raise Jack’s or Charlie’s hopes if she was wrong, and he still faced a premature death. Privately, though, she hoped her medical assessment was correct; the last thing she wanted was to have to watch Charlie die a second time, nor for Cassie and Jack to have to endure it either. However, a physical exam was not foolproof, so she would hold her tongue until she had a chance to run a proper battery of tests, and for that, they needed to go back to the SCG.
Instead, the doctor focused on describing to Jack that he was chanting in an unknown language and appeared to have been in a deep trance-like state. He seemed to have no memory of it…of anything once he learned that Charlie was dead and he realised he let his son down…just like he did before.
Swiftly trying to nix that assertion, Janet told him, “That’s simply not true, Jack. Cassie said Charlie was worried because you hadn’t slept for days. It was an impossible task for you to go without sleep indefinitely. Even a Special Forces-trained operative must eventually sleep.”
“I should have asked for help to guard him,” he said stubbornly.
“Hindsight, sir,” she told him crisply. “I’d have made the same assumption you did in your situation. Nightmares were a reasonable explanation,” she argued quietly as they watched the small boy dozing.
“And it was also the wrong one,” he argued, guiltily.
“Look, Colonel, bottom line, you brought Charlie back from death. That kinda overshadows any mistakes you might have made, even if they were perfectly understandable ones. Just focus on the fact he is alive and here with us because you saved him,” she counselled him firmly, slipping on her doctor persona.
One that Jack often described as her Napoleonic Power Monger mode.
He shook his head. “No, it couldn’t have been me. I can’t heal anyone,” he said.
His features displayed such raw pain and hurt that Fraiser could all too easily guess he was thinking of his dead son. That he couldn’t save the first Charlie. Janet’s empathy and newfound experience of parenthood made it so very clear to her that Jack was recalling every horrific detail of the death of the child he didn’t save. Whose death he felt was his fault, because it was his firearm that the boy picked up and accidentally fired, which had killed him.
Huffing at his stubbornness, she said, “Well, sir, no one else in the room was in direct physical contact with him like you were. Nor chanting in tongues and in a trance that you don’t even remember. I don’t see how it could have been anyone else but you who brought him back,” she told him tartly.
As he went to refute her claims, but couldn’t think of a rebuttal, Charlie piped up, saying, “I think I’m hungry, Dad. Do you think we could have some of those tumbled egg things? I bet Cassie is hungry too.”
It very effectively stopped Jack and Janet in their tracks. Never before had he complained about being hungry; he ate what they gave him because they’d explained that he needed to eat to keep his body refuelled. Well, apart from s’mores, Charlie ate them because they tasted good, not because of hunger.
So, their disagreement over what took place stalled as he grabbed onto Jack and Janet’s hands and dragged them out into the living area of Jack’s cabin. The occupants all stopped talking, and Cassie crossed the floor to hug the younger boy who had learned how good it felt to get hugs this last week with Jack. Dropping the hands of his favourite adults so he could hug her back, he sighed contentedly.
“Are you okay, Charlie?” she asked, still highly concerned about him, and, having watched him die a couple of hours ago, her anxiety was well-founded.
Nor was she the only person there who was deeply concerned about him.
“No, I’m not! I’m hungry because I haven’t eaten anything for a long time,” he announced as the adults in the room all gawked at him. “We’re making tumbled eggs.”
“I’m going to scramble some eggs for our favourite patient,” Janet informed her daughter, seeing her look of confusion. “Do you want me to make some for you, too?”
Suddenly appearing to realise how hungry she was, Cassie grinned. “Yeah, I’m starving,” she announced as she followed her mother and Charlie towards the kitchen area of the open-plan living area.
~o0o~
Jack was feeling decidedly off-kilter, maybe because of everything that had happened since he woke up, believing he had simply fallen asleep because of sleep deprivation. He watched, feeling amused in spite of everything that had happened, as the two kids followed Janet like a couple of impatient ducklings, eager to eat now that all the drama seemed to be done and dusted. Yet, only a few hours ago, Charlie died, which was expected, but not so soon or in such dramatic circumstances. Plus, adding to his disorientation, he was having a lot of trouble wrapping his head around what had happened. It didn’t help that the peanut gallery was watching him as if he might explode or fall apart.
Looking at his watch, O’Neill grimaced, realising it was just after 1100 hours. He eyed the rest of the occupants in his cabin with a degree of trepidation, knowing they would start interrogating him as soon as Charlie was occupied. Not only was he not looking forward to the third degree, but he didn’t have any answers to their questions.
Jack mentally debated on who would fire off the opening salvo; his money was on Daniel or maybe Carter. Both individuals were incurably nosy by nature, but the captain was much more aware of his rank as her CO. Daniel, on the other hand, pretty much ignored military rank, but he was a civilian, so Jack reckoned he’d initiate the interrogation and ask the questions everyone else was dying to but were reluctant to.
Becoming aware of a weird pressure in his head, he was momentarily surprised when Teal’c initiated the conversation. “Is Charlie O’Neill alright, O’Neill?” he inquired, his dark, soulful eyes watching Cassie and Charlie as they made toast.
Cassie was watching Charlie like a hawk, as if she were afraid that he might be spirited away in a puff of smoke. Having held his hand as he was dying, Jack could hardly blame her. He was having a lot of difficulty grasping reality himself.
Smiling faintly at his Jaffa teammate, he shrugged. “He seems to be. Doc Fraiser says as far as she can tell, there’s no sign of the hypothermia…” he trailed off, unwilling to say what he still was having trouble accepting that Charlie died while on Jack’s watch, and something brought him back from the dead.
Jacob, Sam’s dad, cleared his throat discreetly before offering, “I have the hand-held healing device with me. I could double-check to determine the state of his organs,” he offered cautiously.
Jack nodded, “Thanks, General, that would be greatly appreciated. Knowing the Doc, she’ll still drag us back to the infirmary for tests, but it might buy us a bit of breathing space and reassurance,” Jack said slowly, still feeling weirdly detached but aware that his head was beginning to hurt…a lot!
It seemed, now that the ice was broken, that Daniel felt unencumbered by restraints and opened fire. “What happened to you, Jack? Who abducted you, and how? How were you able to heal Charlie when you returned?”
He fired a barrage of questions at Jack, one after another, as the stressed-out colonel, still feeling the effects of going without sleep for several nights, realised his head was pounding in earnest.
Glaring at Daniel, who could annoy him like no one else, even though he’d come to regard the brilliant archaeologist and linguist as the annoying little brother he’d never had, he tried to formulate an answer when the truth was, he had absolutely no clue how to answer him. He opened his mouth to tell them that, when he was interrupted by a bright beam of light. Later, Ferretti, Lorne and Teal’c all confirmed it was nothing like the intense explosive energy they’d experienced when Charlie returned from the dead. The light also only lasted a second or two, but when it dissipated, a grey alien being, approximately three feet high, materialised in front of them.
It spoke to them in English, which Jack thought was fortuitous as the Grey alien wasn’t a language he could speak.
“Greetings to you all! Perhaps I can provide you with the answers you seek, Dr Jackson.”
“Thor?” Carter exclaimed.
The being closed its huge black eyes and inclined its head momentarily, before eyeing the captain dispassionately.
“Despite the very unpleasant circumstances, it is good to see you again, Samantha Carter.”
Turning to Teal’c, who had surreptitiously produced a Zat gun, the alien held up his hand and somehow summoned the weapon before handing it to Carter.
“Peace, be, Teal’c. I am no threat to anyone here or to Earth.”
“We have not met. How do you know me?” Teal’c demanded. suspiciously.
“Mistress Gairwyn, of Cimmeria, speaks most glowingly of you and the assistance you rendered to her people, helping to save them from the Goa’uld Heru’ur and his Jaffa warriors.
His head pounding painfully, Jack glared at Carter. “Care to introduce us to your friend, Captain?”
She nodded. “Sorry, Sir. This is Thor. Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet from the Planet Orilla, in the Othello galaxy. Daniel, Gairwyn and I met him in the Hall of Thor’s Might when we were looking for a weapon to save the Cimerians from Heru’ur’s invasion.”
Jack acknowledged that she had reported the encounter, and he wondered how he had failed to connect the Asgard with the description Charlie gave of the grey Oompa Loompas. Looking over into the kitchen, he saw Janet comforting the little boy who was cowering in fear, and despite his sense of detachment, he felt a flare of fury, followed by a sharp stabbing pain in his head.
“It was you, terrorising my son,” he roared dangerously, wishing whoever was stabbing his brain would fuck off.
He tried to fling himself at Thor, but instead collapsed as the pain grew overwhelming.
Thor, though not approaching, held up his hand, revealing a stone-like device, muttering something about Loki, appearing to stroke the stone with his grey preternaturally long thin digits before aiming it at Jack. Almost instantly, Jack’s excruciating pain subsided.
“My apologies, Colonel O’Neill. It was not I who scared your offspring. I’m afraid it was a disgraced Asgard colleague of mine, called Loki, who abducted you and unintentionally terrified young Charlie O’Neill. He will be punished, not just for the trauma he caused here, but after interrogating Loki just now, I have learnt that he has been abducting other humans here on Earth and carrying out experiments on them for decades. This will stop, and he will not be troubling anyone here again,” he told them ominously.
Daniel frowned. “But why would…umm Loki want to abduct Jack?”
Thor sighed and sat on a rustic handmade side table, using it as a stool. It was the perfect height for him.
“That is a long story, Daniel Jackson.” He looked pointedly at Jack, who sank onto the mattress since there were no unoccupied chairs.
“When you gated to Orilla after downloading the Ancients’ database into your brain, seeking our assistance, Loki heard whispers about you that sparked his curiosity. It seems that this is not a good thing. He had been waiting for an opportunity to get hold of you for some time now, and when you came here to this remote location, he decided to act. He hoped to clone you and substitute your clone so he could continue to study you in-depth for many weeks, perhaps even months, without being detected.”
“He did what?” Daniel responded exasperatedly. “Why didn’t you say something? We thought you found the Ancients.”
“Well, maybe because I assumed I went to the Ancients’ home planet. Although I can’t remember anything after I left the SGC.”
“No, O’Neill, you did not find the Ancients; you journeyed to our home planet in a far-off galaxy called Othalla. You found our gate coordinates within the Ancients’ database and realised that we were the only ones left who could assist you. However, it was not our intention to wipe our meeting with you out of your conscious memory, though. After all, I had already shown our true selves to Dr Jackson and Captain Carter, as well as Mistress Gairwyn.”
Dr Fraiser, still comforting Charlie, who was terrified of the grey-skinned Thor, called across the room. “You still haven’t explained what your disgraced colleague wanted Jack or the other humans for. What did this Loki do to him?”
“There were once four great races: the ones called the Ancients who built the gate system, the Nox, the Asgard and the Furlings,” he began. “The Ancients were once part of a much larger race known as the Alterans.”
Seeing the recognition in Jacob’s eyes, he asked. “You know of the Alterans?”
“Not personally, but the Tok’ra know of them,” he replied as Thor nodded and continued.
“Some of the Alterans became obsessed with science, technology and knowledge, while others of their race were much more inward-looking. They became consumed by religion and worship… and ultimately, of themselves as higher ascended beings; they believed the rest of the Universe should bow down to them,” he explained as the humans, Tok’ra, and Jaffa listened raptly.
“This schism between the Alterans became irreconcilable, even before they ascended to a higher plane of existence, although their ascension made it even worse. Meanwhile, in their attempts to Ascend, their scientists started manipulating their DNA, which ironically caused infertility issues. It threatened their very existence, and any hope of ascension should their kind die out before they worked out how to ascend. So, a proportion of the Ancients’ population was tasked with procreating with the humans…homo sapiens who had evolved on Earth.”
Having plated up the eggs and toast, Janet served it up to the two kids, who both decided that they were hungrier than they were afraid. Leaving them to eat at the kitchen bench, Fraiser approached the group in the living area and joined Jack, sitting on the mattress, figuring that once they finished eating, Cassie and Charlie would probably join them.
“They were successful in producing hybrid Ancient/human offspring?” she asked curiously.
“Oh yes. It seemed that the humans at that point in their evolution were extremely fecund. The new sub-race thrived, and even today, there are vestiges of the sub-race here on Earth.”
“And that’s what Loki was doing, looking for those ancestors of the Ancients. That’s why so many alien abduction accounts by victims are so similar,” Daniel surmised immediately, making connections.
“Having only just learnt that he has been abducting humans on Earth and carrying out experiments, I cannot comment on that theory, Daniel Jackson. I WILL investigate further, and Loki will answer my questions. Though, as all the Asgard were warned off coming here, I hope there are no others of my brethren involved,” Thor replied, sounding annoyed, although his face remained impassive.
Jack figured that as the Supreme Commander of the Fleet, he was pissed off to discover what had been going on behind his back. Especially since they protected Cimmeria from the Goa’uld warlords, he figured that Loki treating humans as lab rats would be frowned upon by his fellow Asgard.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m not the smartest person in the room,” he said with his usual self-deprecation, although Janet, as CMO, knew his IQ and he most definitely wasn’t the least intelligent one in the room, but luckily didn’t call him on it.
“But what the fu …erm the heck did this Lucky dude want with me?”
Janet jumped in, having put two and two together and accurately arrived at four before anyone else in the room. “Because, Colonel, I’m pretty sure you have the Ancient gene that enables you to activate and use Ancient’s technology.”
“Dr Fraiser is correct; you are part of the remnants of the subrace of Ancients, possessing the specific gene that can interact with their technology,” Thor explained patiently. “Loki admitted that he has only encountered a handful of other Earthlings with strong expressions of the Ancient’s technology activation gene to operate their super advanced technology.”
“I do?” Jack asked, sounding dazed.
“He does?” Daniel, Sam and Selmak chorused simultaneously, looking excited as they suddenly realised that he could reboot their cobbled-together sarcophagus and make it operational again.
“Yes, my colleague, Freya, confirmed it when they were containing the Ancients’ knowledge in your brain so you couldn’t access it, along with discovering you also possessed expressions of several other Ancient genes too.”
Janet looked rather grim as she asked Thor, “Why didn’t you tell us this before?”
We did not tell you this because we did not wish him to become a target.” Thor replied. The Goa’uld would seek him out as a host should they learn that he could operate the Ancients’ technology.
“Been there, done that. Didn’t like it,” he quipped, much to everyone’s amusement.
“We also had additional concerns that some of your own kind would try to take advantage of his unique genetics, and felt it was best to say nothing.”
Which no one in the room was willing to deny, giving various bad actors, especially in the NID
“And yet he was still targeted. Had we known, he would have taken precautions,” Janet said pointedly.
“The Asgard Nation sincerely apologises for the actions of one of our own, even though we did not and would never sanction his actions,” Thor stated formally.
“Also, I feel I must explain what happened to cause the energy spike when Colonel O’Neill healed his son. Loki, in his failed efforts to clone O’Neill, accidentally managed to restore some of the information about the Ancients’ Healing abilities, which Freya isolated when O’Neill sought our assistance. As that is one of the Ancients’ genes which he has a strong expression of in his DNA profile, his profound grief enabled him to subconsciously access his abilities to heal after learning of his son’s death and thus restore him to life.”
“I did that?” Jack questioned, disbelievingly.
“Indeed, however, only the strongest of the Ancients healers were able to resurrect the dead,” Thor said solemnly. “It wasn’t until I detected the unexpected burst of energy bearing the Ancients’ genetic signature that I realised what had happened. It is also why you are feeling off balance and experiencing severe pain in your head. It will take time for you to recover from your healing of Charlie O’Neill, although I could heal you now if you wish. Since Loki caused your pain, it would only be equitable, although we would need to go to the Beliskner, my spaceship,” he explained.
“That honkin’ huge ship that turned up in the nick of time when we were forced to surrender to Heru’ur to save the Cimmerians, and you swept up every single one of his Jaffa warriors, who were all a singularly humourless bunch? The spaceship that Gerwyn got to go on board, but not us? Sweet! I’d like to see that,” Jack exclaimed enthusiastically, sounding like an excited kid in a candy store.
An anguished cry erupted from Charlie, who protested, “You promised not to leave me again, Dad. You said you’d watch my front and back.” Jack struggled to his feet, realising a severe adrenal crash was imminent, as he reached Charlie and gathered his son to him. He barely managed to retrace his steps, falling gratefully, if inelegantly, onto the mattress by the fire.
“Sorry, Charlie. I’m not going to leave you,” he said soothingly.
“Charlie O’Neill is welcome to accompany you to the Beliskner, too, if you wish, Colonel O’Neill,” Thor said, making a weird motion with his mouth that Jack sure as hell hoped was an Asgard version of a smile.
As smiles go, however, it seemed to do little to comfort the small human. If anything, Jack reckoned it increased his understandable fear. He resolved to tell Charlie the story about how Thor saved their butts on Cimmerian to show him that the Asgard are the good guys…well, not Loki. If ever he got his hands on that grey little Oompa Loompa, he’d happily wring his scrawny neck, especially knowing that Jack wasn’t the first person he’d abducted. Hopefully, though, Thor would make sure Jack was the last one he messed with.
As Jack considered the offer, looking at the frowning visage before him and realising how close he’d come to losing him…and maybe still would, he hesitated. A part of him wanted to see the inside of an Asgard spaceship, but not if it further traumatised his son. Though perhaps Thor might be persuaded to help Charlie and stop his organs from aging too quickly.
As Jack hesitated, Thor seemed to read the room. “Of course, your team is welcome to accompany you both,” he stole a look at Jacob, “and the Tok’ra and their host are also welcome,” he offered politely.
“Thank you. I’m Jacob Carter, Sam’s father.”
“And I am Selmak,” his symbiote introduced itself.
Thor blinked. “I am pleased to meet you, Jacob Carter, father to Samantha. Selmak, you are renowned for being one of the oldest and wisest Tok’ra. It is good to finally meet you. So would you like to accompany me to the Beliskner so I can repair any damage Colonel O’Neill may have done to himself by healing Charlie?”
Now hang on just a minute,” Janet interjected sternly. “As their physician, the Colonel and Charlie aren’t going anywhere without me too,” she told Thor in a take it or leave it attitude that everyone at the SGC were well acquainted with.
He stared at her unblinkingly. She stared back. Jack wondered who would blink first. Huh, Thor did! It looked like he was going to capitulate when Cassie, figuring out what her mother meant, interrupted.
“Hey, if you go, Mom, I’m going too. Jack’s like an uncle to me, and Charlie’s like my little brother,” she said, hugging him as he beamed back at her.
“Thor shook his head. “Before anyone else demands to come too, I think it would be much simpler to beam the healing pod down here,” he said, ignoring the looks of disappointment on various individuals’ faces, although Charlie looked mightily relieved.
There was a bright but gentle flash of light after Thor played briefly with the rock-like device in his hand, but everyone looked confused, not seeing anything being beamed down.
Seeing the confusion, Thor explained, “It is rather large, so I sent the healing pod to the large sleeping chamber. Shall we adjourn there?”
“How long might Jack be in the healing pod?” Janet wanted to know.
“Possibly several of your hours, depending on how much energy he expended, and any collateral damage that occurred in his brain from performing such a difficult healing without prior preparation or training,” Thor said. “Maybe longer.”
“Right, well, he was already moderately dehydrated from whatever it was that Loki did to him. I’m going to insist that he drinks at least a bottle and a half of water before he enters the pod,” Janet said in her most Napoleonic Power-Mongering manner, which had the rest of the members of the SCG smirking. Except Jack, at this point, he was too exhausted to offer even a token protest; even a smirk required too much energy.
Thor also seemed to realise when it came to Janet Fraiser, resistance was futile as he acquiesced gracefully. “As you wish,” he rejoined diplomatically. “I intended to make sure that any damage Loki may have caused will be repaired,” he informed her calmly
Having achieved her goal, Janet refrained from rubbing her victory in their faces, and she sent Cassie to fetch a couple of bottles of water and one for Charlie, too. As Jack obediently swallowed down the water, she turned to Thor.
“Supreme Leader of the Asgard Fleet…” she started, as Thor interrupted her.
“Dr Fraiser, as we are now colleagues, please call me Thor,” the little grey dude requested as Janet smiled.
“Only if you call me Janet,” she bargained.
“Very well, Janet. What did you wish to ask me?”
“It was something you said earlier about your colleague, Freya, who said that they contained the Ancients’ knowledge that was downloaded into Jack’s brain, so he couldn’t access it. We assumed that you’d removed it. Well, actually, we assumed that the Ancients did, but as you pointed out, they’re all in a different dimension.”
“I see. Unfortunately, by the time Colonel O’Neill was able to reach our home world, it would have been far too dangerous to try to remove it. Think of a Goa’uld forcibly taking over a host. If you act fast enough before it has a chance to merge with the host’s brain stem, one can remove it safely, but that window of opportunity is a brief one,” he said.
Lou, Jack, and Janet nodded, all remembering their unsuccessful attempt to save Charles Kawalsky, their teammate and friend. The Major, like Jack and Ferretti, had all held their tongues on the survival of Abydonians after his return from that first mission to Abydos. They were supposed to destroy the planet, but they nuked Ra’s ship instead, killing him and leaving the residents of Abydos alive in contravention of their orders to destroy it in the mistaken belief it would protect Earth.
“I see you understand. However, with the Goa’uld symbiotes, we have now perfected a method using harmonic resonance that does not harm the host, but makes it extremely unpleasant for the Goa’uld symbiote to resist leaving,” he noted.
“Thor’s Hammer uses harmonic resonance?” Daniel exclaimed, suddenly understanding as Thor nodded.
“Exactly, Daniel Jackson.”
“We met a human called Kendra whose Goa’uld symbiote was driven from her body on Cimmeria. It gave me hope because my wife and her brother were both taken as hosts of Apophis and his consort against their will,” he explained.
“If you capture them, then take them to Cimmeria, and the newly installed Thor’s Hammer will free them,” Thor advised him empathetically.
“Kendra said there was much pain.”
“The harmonic resonance does not cause pain, it is the Goa’uld symbiote who inflicts it upon the host as retribution. They are a very vindictive race, but it is short-lived. In comparison to the pain inflicted over several lifetimes by their Goa’uld captors, hosts all say it is a small price to pay for freedom,” Thor explained benevolently.
Janet looked empathetic. “Perhaps we could administer a sedative and analgesia to mitigate some of the discomfort for Skaara and Sha’re if we capture them, Daniel,” she mused out loud.
“And yet we saw one host – an Unas who was also killed by Thor’s Hammer, not just the Goa’uld symbiote,” Teal’c observed, returning to Thor’s point that the host was unharmed.
Thor looked surprised. “We did not factor in Unas as hosts visiting Cimmeria when we constructed the Hammer. Thank you for informing us. We have no desire to harm hosts whom the Goa’uld have already caused much harm to,” the Asgard replied. “However, we have strayed from the question which Janet asked me.”
“Um… what was the question again?” Daniel asked, and Jack, despite his exhaustion could see he was still keenly interested in the potential of Thor’s Hammer to give him back his family again.
“I thought that the Asgard removed the Ancient’s knowledge from Jack’s brain, but Thor said they contained it, so he couldn’t access it. Which means it’s still there. So, what’s to stop this sort of thing from happening again?” Janet repeated her question.
“It is a good point,” Thor agreed. “Thankfully, it is more complex than it appears. Aside from the Ancient gene that permits only Ancients (or their offspring who have inherited a specific dominant gene) to be able to operate most of their very sophisticated technology systems, weapons and spaceships, other Ancients’ genes bestow special abilities or gifts. One of these is healing, and it is also a gene that Jack possesses. In the past, we have discovered the occasional human on other planets who has the gene that would permit them to activate the Ancients’ technology. Usually, though most of these humans have a recessive expression of the gene or it’s too weak to be of any practical use.”
“Like an appendix?” Lorne muttered as Sam and Janet nodded.
“The appendix is an organ that had an evolutionary purpose once upon a time, but is obsolete now, Janet explained to Thor.
“I do not know about your appendix, but possessing Ancients’ genes, if they are strong enough, still serves a purpose since the Ancients left a great deal of technology lying around this galaxy and several others, too. Some of which the Goa’uld have scavenged, like the hand-held healing devices and sarcophagi.
“How are the Goa’uld able to operate that technology?” Daniel asked? “Do they have the Ancients’ gene as well?”
“Not the Goa’uld, but some hosts do, particularly those from certain regions on Earth, before the uprising. Fortunately, the Goa’uld never realised this, or they would have returned to Earth, searching for more hosts with the Ancients’ genealogy.”
“Well, they’d seeded enough humans on other planets, a small number who probably had Ancient genes,” Sam theorised.
“Yes, you are correct, and the Goa’uld who possess hosts with dominant genes have become the most powerful ones since they can utilise the Ancients’ technology they’ve scavenged, although without the knowledge of the Ancients, they can only use a limited number of functions. While individuals such as Colonel O’Neill can utilise many, if not all, functions, including activating Ancients’ devices that were switched off. They can theoretically deactivate devices, too.”
“Which would render them useless to the Goa’uld,” Teal’c caught onto the implications swiftly.
“That is correct, my Jaffa friend,” Thor blinked slowly in a way that was kind of creepy, unlike Teal’c, who had an innate gracefulness about his mannerisms.
“Now that O’Neill has accessed the Ancient’s entire databank on their healing, he can probably use the handheld device to heal, with much greater efficacy or power than the Goa’uld or Tok’ra, many of whom seem to be able to use it due to minute traces of a trace element called naquadah,” Thor informed them.
He looked across at Jack, who was barely following the conversation, sagging with exhaustion. “It would also be much less strenuous on him physically, at least until he gains more mastery over his abilities. Before you enter the Asgard healing pod, where I will repair neuronal brain cells you damaged when you brought your son back from the dead, I should ask, do you wish me to restrict you from accessing the knowledge on healing that Loki has unintentionally allowed you to access?”
“Would it be dangerous if I could still access it?” Jack asked, frowning as he fought to focus.
Thor seemed to ponder the question seriously. “If you were to attempt to repeat your feat of healing people who are dead, without mentoring and proper training, perhaps. More likely, O’Neill, you would shorten your own lifespan by placing your body under too much stress. However, now that you know about your ability to heal, your access to the Ancients’ entire knowledge on healing, especially if you restrict yourself to using the Ancients’ healing devices, such as the hand device, then I believe it would be unlikely. If I am proven incorrect and it is harmful, then the Asgard can deny you access, should it prove necessary,” Thor offered.
“Okay then so no, I don’t want you to block my access to that knowledge,” he said, weakly. “I’d like to use the information, along with my gift to be able to heal others,” he told Thor.
While he couldn’t help wondering what this ability would have meant if he could have saved his firstborn Charlie like he had done with Charlie’s brother, he felt a sudden uneasiness wash over him. Jack had no clue how he knew it, but he felt an implacable, not-to-be-denied conviction that Daniel, Sam, Janet and Teal’c would all die unless he was there to heal them. He decided at that moment to develop his abilities to use the healing devices and other technology that could benefit humanity in general, and especially the people risking their lives at the SCG.
“Okay. Let’s do this, then! I drank both bottles of water, Doc. Are you happy?” he asked her teasingly, as they rose and disappeared into the master bedroom so that Thor’s machine could repair his abused brain cells.
~o0o~
As Thor followed Janet, O’Neill and Charlie, who clung to his father like a limpet, Daniel turned to Sam, Teal’c and Jacob/Selmak and exclaimed excitedly.
“Okay, guys, so what are the odds?”
“To what specifically are you referring? If you wish for advice to place a bet, then I require more information,” Teal’c said in all seriousness.
“I’m not talking about a bet. I’m talking about how we’ve been trying to figure out how we could find an Ancient to activate the sarcophagus, and voila! Jack’s been here on Earth, right under our noses the whole time. With Ancients’ genes!” he crowed, sounding euphoric.
Sam shook her head disbelievingly. “I can’t help but think about what Richard Dawkins, a British evolutionary biologist, had to say about genes. He said that ‘Genetics is not just about the genes we inherit, but how we use them.’ Somehow, I don’t think he ever envisaged this possibility,” she said, smirking.
Her happiness was partly relief that the colonel had turned up unharmed (or relatively), and Charlie, who had died, was suddenly alive again. All the pressure of them being the last best chance to save Charlie O’Neill’s life if they could get the sarcophagus to work again, drained away, knowing it wasn’t needed to save the colonel’s son. But she shared Daniel’s jubilation because they now knew how to activate it, which was hugely significant. How ironic that without that little shit Loki, they might never have known that ancestors of the Ancients were right here on Earth, serving beside them at the SCG.
Selmak had the last word on the topic. “I believe this is cause for a modest celebration,” he said as Jacob nodded in agreement.
Makes you wonder how many times kids make promises to keep each other’s secrets and it turns into something disastrous. How many chikd predators get away with it because for whatever reasons, they don’t turn to the adults in their lives.
But on the positive note….woohoo. Nice to see you, Thor.