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wraith-apologist · 15 days ago

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Medical Considerations - Stargate SG-1/Atlantis The Official Magazine #11, August 2006

I'm not sure how good the image quality is going to be after upload so the story is under the cut as well for easier reading

Also it says "goes back to season 4" but to me this definitely reads as early season 1? Anyways, enjoy

Like so many jobs, being a doctor has its ups and downs. Moments you treasure... and moments you wish you could forget. This moment? Aaaah... this moment was one for the record books. Our redoubtable Colonel O'Neill was lying prone on an infirmary bed. With some difficulty I'd persuaded him to remove his ruined combat trousers. And his boots. And his socks. The only thing missing was the bear skin rug. I'd've grabbed a camera - if only I weren't sure he'd tie my arms in a pretzel for trying...

Oh well. A girl can dream.

Face buried in his folded arms, the colonel said, muffled: "I can't believe it, Carter. You shot me in the ass."

On the other side of the curtained cubicle, Sam cleared her throat. "I'm so sorry, Colonel. Really."

"In the ass, Carter," he repeated. "I had no idea it was that big a target."

"If it helps, sir, I wasn't aiming at you. I was aiming at Daniel."

"Oh, thank you very much," said an aggrieved Daniel Jackson, also on the other side of the curtain. "I-"

"No, Captain, it doesn't help," said the colonel, ruthlessly interrupting. He does that when he's peeved. "Daniel's ass is twice the size of mine. You know, this exercise was meant for his benefit, but if you've been glued to a microscope so long you can't-"

"Telescope, sir," said Sam, interrupting right back as Daniel protested incoherently. "I'm an astrophysicist, not a biologist. But I kept up my weapons' ratings. 97 per cent accuracy last practice session."

Interesting. Jack O'Neill has one of the most dominant personalities I've ever met. To survive everything he's survived, I guess it's a prerequisite. But Captain Samantha Carter was still a mystery to me. Even on a good day it's tough for women in the military; for her to survive not only the hazards of stargate travel but the overwhelming force of nature named Colonel Jack O'Neill, she'd have to be more than terrifyingly intelligent. A lot more.

I confess, I'd been a bit worried about Sam Carter. But hearing her stand up to the colonel I stopped worrying and started smiling.

Making sure he couldn't see me, of course.

The colonel snorted. "97 per cent, captain? Mine was 99.5, and thereby lands a paintball in the ass!"

"Actually, Jack, you're being unfair," said Daniel, coherent again. "I was facing Captain Carter when you were shot, and you crossed her line of fire. Not on purpose, obviously, but you were so keen to shoot me and I'm trying very hard not to take that personally, by the way I don't think you realized your position."

Well, well. So here was someone else not in awe of our intimidating colonel. Interesting. Especially since O'Neill wasn't biting Daniel's head off for daring to question his expertise in public and in front of a subordinate.

"Daniel Jackson is correct, O'Neill," said SG-1's fourth and most unusual member. "You did indeed present your ass as a target. Perhaps retirement has affected you more than you realise."

The colonel tensed at that, but said nothing. I was amazed all over again. Not only that Teal'c would say it, but that O'Neill would accept it. It meant he was rattled; something you didn't see every day.

Time to put him out of his various miseries. "Actually, if we're going to be accurate, it was the colonel's hip that was hit, not his ass," I said briskly. "Now since you three are unhurt I suggest you forget the Greek Chorus routine and let me do my job." And even though I was being perfectly pleasant, I made sure there was just enough doctor in my voice they couldn't mistake an order for a suggestion.

"Okay," said Sam. "Sir, we'll see you later. And again, I really am sorry."

"Forget it, Carter," said the colonel. "Vamoose, and get that paint washed off. Baby puke yellow isn't your color."

The rest of SG-1 obediently vamoosed, and I got down to business. The paintball round had hit O'Neill directly on a knot of ugly scar tissue. As I probed the surrounding blotched bruise he sucked air in hard between his teeth.

"Sorry," I murmured. "I guess sleeping dogs don't like being woken."

"Not so much," he admitted. "Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to juice up the paintball charges after all, hmm?"

It was the hip he'd damaged falling out of the sky over Iraq. Just one of many insults his body has endured over the years, that very few people know anything about. On the base, only General Hammond and I are privy to that information. It's a dubious honor. Reading Jack O'Neill's medical file almost turned my hair white.

"There's no damage, as such,"

I assured him. "The paintball's impact excited the nerves, that's all. I'll give you a shot of meperidine, apply some heat, and you'll be fine."

"Whatever. Just get me out of here."

"Teal'c is right, you know," I said, taking a risk. "You've been off active duty for over a year. You might want to ease back into this. Tread lightly. Not just for your sake, but for Dr Jackson's, too."

"Joining SG1 was Daniel's idea. I warned him it'd be sink or swim. If you think I'm going to cut him any slack just because he's a civilian playing catch-up you didn't read my file closely enough."

I worry about Daniel. Quietly distraught, grieving for his lost Sha're, he spends every waking moment trying to prove he's good enough for SG1. Trying to measure up to Jack O'Neill. "Trust me, Colonel," I snapped.

"I read every last syllable. All I'm saying is -"

"Irrelevant." The colonel shifted his head, revealing one unenthusiastic eye. "Besides, He won't thank me for treading lightly. He wants his wife back."

I sighed. "I know."

"Then act like it. Doctor."

Which neatly put paid to that conversation.

I turned my attention to his physical well-being. Painkillers, heat packs and rest did the trick. I didn't see SG1 again till two days later, when they turned up in the infirmary for a standard pre-mission physical.

"You're going to P7X-882?" I said, inspecting Daniel's tonsils. "Why? I thought SG4 already declared the planet abandoned and unprofitable?"

"They did," said Sam, as she pressed cotton wool against the needle hole in her arm. "That's why it's perfect."

"For?"

"A little serious combat training," said Colonel O'Neill.

As Daniel pulled a face at the taste of the tongue-depressor I'd just dropped into the bin I said, "Not a bad idea. But why take it off-world?"

"That was my suggestion," Teal'c answered. "The terrain surrounding Cheyenne Mountain is well known to SGC personnel. For a true testing we should conduct exercises on unfamiliar territory."

It made sense. It also made me antsy. "Just you four? Or will this be a multi-team extravaganza?"

"Only us this time," said the colonel. "If it turns out to be a good training ground Hammond's keen to establish larger scale skirmishes."

"If I recall, P7X-882 is a pretty harsh place."

"Which would be why I picked it," said the colonel, teeth bared in a smile. "Now can we go?"

He was walking just fine again, Daniel's tonsils were pink and healthy. Sam's blood pressure was a textbook 120/80 and Teal'c was ... Teal'c. "Yes. Go. Have fun. And come back in one piece," I added as they reached the infirmary door. "Don't go falling over any cliffs."

God. Me and my big mouth.

The next morning I was catching up on paperwork when my phone rang.

"We have a situation, Doctor Frasier," said General Hammond. "Report to the embarkation room."

I dropped my pen, kicked over the chair and ran.

"It's Daniel," said Sam via the MALP's remote feed. She looked filthy and exhausted and worried to death. "He fell through a crevasse into a cave and he's pinned under a rock. Teal'c tried to free him but we need portable lifting equipment to get him out."

"What's his condition?" I asked.

"No internal injuries or broken bones but he's pretty banged up and I'm sure he's concussed. I've done what I can but he needs a doctor before he's moved."

I exchanged a look with the general, who leaned into the camera. "Captain, I'm sending you SG-5 and Doctor Frasier. Is the rest of SG1 all right?"

"We're fine, sir. Just hurry, please. It'll be dark in a few hours." She cut the connection. "I'd like to take a med team, too, General," I said. "Just in case."

"Take whoever you need," said Hammond. "Off-world protocols, Doctor. You've got half an hour."

Thirty minutes isn't long enough to prep two teams for 'gate travel, but I didn't argue. SG5 and my team stepped out of the wormhole onto P7X-882 42 minutes later. Sam was waiting for us, almost dancing on the spot with impatience. There was dried blood on her hands, her face, her fatigues.

"I'm fine,” she said as she hurried us towards a distant stunted treeline. The surrounding terrain was brown, barren, rocky. The air was thin and dry, the single sun low and burning. "Most of it's Daniel's.”

That conjured unpleasant images. "How is he?"

"Hanging in there.” She toggled her vest radio. "Colonel, it's Carter. We're on our way."

Crackly, distorted, the colonel replied. "Make it snappy. Teal'c's hurt now."

Sam said something very unladylike under her breath. "Copy that, sir. See you soon."

"How far, Captain?" said Major Barlow, SG-5's team leader.

"A little under three miles," Sam replied, and glanced at the equipment-laden members of his team. "Sorry."

Barlow just grunted, and picked up the pace.

We heard Daniel before we saw him. Some trick of the cave he was trapped in amplified his voice, which escaped from the crevasse he'd fallen through.

"What? That translates as 'The parrot of my great-aunt is limping'! You've read it wrong, Jack! Try again!"

Teal'c sat on a boulder nearby. The left side of his face was smeared with blood from a vicious scalp wound high above his eye. When he saw us he stood and shouted down to the cave below. "They are here, O'Neill!"

"Good!" the colonel shouted back. "Send them down quick, before I kill Daniel!"

I tried to look at Teal'c's wound, but he blocked the effort. "My symbiote heals me. You must attend to Daniel Jackson."

"I will," I said. "If you'll show me how to reach him."

The rocky plateau we stood on was humped and riven with crevasses, scattered with boulders large and small. "He is down there," said Teal'c, pointing. One side of the crevasse he indicated was newly scarred, its old lip had broken away, revealing fresh pink stone veined with a purple mineral I didn't recognize. "I will lower you to him by rope. But you must be extremely careful. The cave is unstable."

Great. As SG5 unpacked the equipment they'd humped from the 'gate I told my med team to stand by, tied the climbing rope round me in an abseiler's cradle, took an extra-tight hold of my medkit and let Teal'c lower me through the crevasse to my patient.

The cave's interior was dimly lit with field lamps, enough so I could see Daniel pinned ankle to mid-chest beneath a single slab of fallen rock, and Colonel O'Neill crouched beside him. Cleaned of blood, Daniel's drawn face was cut and bruised and his eyes were unfocused.

"You don't need me, do you?" said the colonel, straightening as I touched the rubble- strewn cave floor.

Like Sam, he looked exhausted. Bloody. Caked with dirt. I didn't bother trying to check him over. "No," I said, and handed him the rope. Moments later he was being hauled out of the cave and it was just me and Daniel.

"Hey there, Dr Jackson," I said, kneeling beside him. "How are you doing?"

"I've been better," he whispered. "Is Jack gone?"

I locked up, to see the colonel's boots disappearing through the crevasse. "Yes."

"Good," he said, and started shaking. "Sorry, sorry," he stuttered, teeth chattering. "God, how embarrassing..."

"It's okay, you're in shock," I soothed him as I checked his pulse, his color, his capillary refill. "Does it hurt when you breathe? Or when I do this? This? This?"

It didn't. There were no broken bones or squished internal organs. Bruises aplenty, and some nasty scrapes and cuts, definitely a concussion, but otherwise he was intact. Thank God. The large rock holding him fast to the cave floor hadn't crushed him, just sat balanced on smaller rocks and pinned him down like a cat's paw, too heavy to be lifted even by someone as strong as Teal'c.

Mindful of his rattled brain, I gave him a light painkiller to take the edge off things. Punching the needle through his skin I said, "What were you translating?"

Daniel turned his head a little, lifted his free arm and pointed. "It's cuneiform. Related to the Hittite language, I think. Here, of all places. Miraculous."

The ancient writing had been carved into the cave wall. Lots and lots of mysterious symbols that made as much sense to me as crow-tracks in snow. To Daniel, it was like reading the morning newspaper. Incredible.

"How did you find -"

"We were playing military Hide and Seek," Daniel said, his teeth still chattering. "I was running over the plateau and I tripped. Came down beside the crevasse. When I realized there was a cave underneath I couldn't not investigate. Used one of my flares. Don't tell Jack. I saw the inscriptions - tried to get a better look - and the edge of the crevasse gave way."

"You could've been killed," I scolded. He managed a smile. "But I wasn't. And I found this." His blurry eyes again tried to focus on his discovery.

"Fool's luck," I said. "With emphasis on the 'fool'." Despite the circumstances, I laughed. "And only you would be worried about accurate translations at a time like this."

He flinched, and suddenly there were tears in his eyes. "I was distracting myself."

His distress was more than plain shock, or the mild pain of his injuries. I leaned closer, resting my hand against his cheek. "Daniel, what's wrong? You can tell me, it's doctor-patient privilege. Is there something you haven't -"

"My parents," he whispered. His undamaged fingers groped for mine. "They died like this. Crushed. When I was little. I was there..."

Oh, dear God. "Daniel, I'm so sorry. But you're safe now, and we're getting you out of here."

He nodded. "I know. I know. It's just..."

I held his hand and crooned nonsense as he battled his demon memory. Overhead, the others' voices rose and fell in spirited debate, working out how best to rescue him.

"Don't tell Jack," he said at last. "He doesn't need more grief." The ghost of a smile touched his lips. Affectionate. Regretful. "He'll tear me a new one for this but he really blames himself. He always does, when someone gets hurt."

I suspected as much, given his personal history, but it was interesting to have Daniel confirm my hunch. As hard as he argued with the colonel - and they really did go at it sometimes - I'd sensed beneath the passionate opposition an unexpected vein of protectiveness. Observed a kind of watchful concern that couldn't be explained by current events.

Daniel knew something about Jack O'Neill that I, with all my impressive security clearances and access, didn't. Something I was certain involved the first mission to Abydos. Boy, did I want to know what it was.

"If he starts yelling at me," said Daniel, "let him. Okay? It'll make him feel better."

Before I could answer, the colonel dropped smoothly back into the cave. "We're ready. Is he stable enough to be moved, doc?"

"Yes. Provided you take it easy."

"Then stand back. This'll be tricky." I squashed myself into the farthest corner of the cave, up against Daniel's precious cuneiform, and watched as a cramped and crowded O'Neill, Teal'c and half of SG5 performed the sweaty, delicate extraction, assisted by Sam and the rest of SG5 up on the plateau. A couple of times my heart stopped, but thanks to Teal'c disaster was averted.

Those inscriptions weren't the only miracle in that cave, let me tell you.

At last Daniel was freed. After another swift medical assessment - our resident archeologist's bruises would've taken first prize in a modern art exhibition - I saw him secured in a harness and lifted to safety. Then I grabbed hold of the rope and followed him up.

The last light was fading fast; we'd need torches to get back to the 'gate. Efficient as ever, my med team already had Daniel strapped to the evac stretcher. He wasn't happy about it. "I'm fine, I can walk, you don't have to carry-"

"Daniel!" barked Colonel O'Neill. "The only thing stopping me from knocking you on your ass and shooting you green and orange with my paintball gun is you staying horizontal on that damned stretcher!"

Daniel tried to sit up. "Look, Jack-"

"Daniel!"

Daniel subsided, grumbling. All right, all right. There's no need to yell." In the fading light I caught his swift, secret glance in my direction. The faintest of shadows still haunted his eyes, but his lips quirked. "I'm not deaf."

"You're damned lucky you're not dead, moron," was the colonel's sympathetic reply. "Now let's get the hell out of here. I'm missing The Simpsons, thanks to you."

Sam insisted on taking one end of the stretcher. Teal'c took the other. I nodded at the med team and they fell in behind. SG5 took point, torches blazing the path back to the stargate. As the expedition moved out Colonel O'Neill touched my elbow.

"You're sure he's okay?"

In combat boots I'm knee-high to a grasshopper. Staring up at him, perilously close to cricking my neck, I said calmly, "Of course. D'you think I'd let you yell at him if he wasn't?"

The colonel looked worn down. On edge. There were shadows in his eyes, too. Unpleasant memories. But even so, his expression was rueful. Resigned. Beneath the surface tension, aggravated affection. “He'll want to come back here, you know. He'll nag nonstop until I get Hammond to greenlight a mission exploring every last damned cave looking for chicken scratchings on the walls. Cuneiform!" He made a sound of disgust. "What is that? It's not even a proper word!"

I grinned. "You're very fond of Daniel, aren't you, Colonel?"

"Fond?" Another derisive snort. "He drives me nuts."

"Even so. You'll get Hammond to agree. Won't you."

The colonel grunted. "Maybe. It depends."

"On?"

"On whether I get home in time for The Simpsons. Let's move out, doctor."

True to my word, I didn't tell the colonel, or anyone, what Daniel confided to me in that cave. In my job we call it The Seal of The Bedpan. I understand his reluctance to share; he's the only civilian on a team of seasoned, formidable warriors. He's afraid if he shows any kind of weakness it might count against him. Diminish him in their eyes. Especially the colonel's. He's wrong about that, but it's something he needs to discover for himself..

I still don't know what happened between him and O'Neill on that first insane mission to Abydos. But give me time. I'll find out. And when I do, I'll be one step closer to understanding what makes those mismatched friends tick.

I can't wait.

#Stargate #stargate sg1 #stargate sg 1 #Janet Fraiser #Daniel Jackson #jack o'neill #sam carter #teal'c #my post #also i have the jpgs in magazine spread form so its just 3 images as well as a pdf if anyone wants them

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