Title: A Glimmer of Light

Author: Carol S. Comer

Email: carolscomer@aol.com

Status: complete

Category: SJR

Spoilers: "The Light"; references to the events of "Legacy" and "Divide and Conquer"; very vague reference to "Need"; oh - and I stole a line from "Fire and Water"

Season/Sequel info: 4th Season during the events of "The Light."

Rating: PG-13

Content Warnings: suicide

Summary: Alternative to the events of "The Light" - explores the possibility of Jack experiencing the impact of addiction/depression rather than Daniel.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Other people do: i.e. Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I am only using them for fun (no profit). No copyright infringement was intended. You could sue me, but insanity is a defense to most claims.

Author's Notes: Pain, suffering, angst, yep, its me writing again. I torture fictional characters for fun and entertainment. I may have been as hard on Jack as I was on Sam in the "Seasons" series three years ago. Hey! If I'm hurting – everybody should (living AND make- believe).

Archive SJD

**********

The colonel set out with Teal'c and the marines of SG3 to explore P4X- 347. It was a routine mission. Jack and Teal'c were present for mere precautionary reasons. The MALP had returned images of a palatial structure that SGC's historians - Daniel included - were eager to explore. Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c secured the gate inside the structure while SG3 explored the area outside of the palace to clear the site for further investigation. After setting off five clicks in all four directions, the marines returned with an "all clear" only to find Jack and Teal'c staring entranced by a holographic light dancing on the walls in an interior chamber of the building.

"Area secured, sir," the Lieutenant reported. Neither Jack nor Teal'c responded.

"Colonel?"

Jack shook off the mist in his brain.

"Let's move out then," the Colonel called and shepherded the troops back through the gate.

Colonel O'Neill cleared the proposed mission and the members of SG5 were slated to return to the planet for a thorough archeological sweep of the palace two days later.

*****

Colonel O'Neill was late for a briefing. That alone was not unusual, the colonel had a certain disdain for such administrative detail. When General Hammond tapped on his watch face in question, Major Carter offered to "remind" him the meeting was in progress.

She wasn't there when he did it. Had she been in the room at the time, the major would have found a way to throw herself in front of the bullet even though the gun was held at point blank range.

Sam heard the shot though. Everybody on base probably did. She was amazed at how loud a gunshot could be in the confined space of the complex. The metal and cement structure still vibrated with the percussive clap.

Sam shook off her shock and ran for his room. Major Carter found the colonel lying in a pool of blood at the foot of his bunk, firearm in one hand, a crumpled picture of Charlie in the other.

Her eyes went dead and her heart stopped. "Oh my god," she breathed.

Sam mechanically picked up the receiver and called for medical assistance then knelt and placed two fingers firmly against the Colonel's throat. A faint beat ticked against her fingertips. Sam leaned over and listened for his breathing and was rewarded with a shallow rattle. The major closed her eyes in relief. He was still alive.

Until medical help arrived, Sam shed her jacket and tucked the wadded up material gingerly under the Colonel's head. After elevating his injury, she grabbed a sheet from the Colonel's bunk and Sam gently cradled his head and held the cloth over his wound to stem the flow of blood. A single tear finally escaped.

"Don't you leave me like this," she said softly to the unconscious man in her arms. Only the walls heard her pleas.

Doctor Fraiser found her sitting next to the injured colonel applying pressure to his wound. Sam's hands and the front of her tee-shirt were covered in Jack's blood. Sam looked up hopelessly when she heard the doctor arrived.

"Help him," she said.

Janet spared a quick sympathetic squeeze of Sam's shoulder before she turned to the grim task at hand.

Sam stood and wiped her hands on her khaki pants while Jack was loaded on to a gurney. As the medical technicians prepared to move the colonel, Sam carefully pried loose the photograph clutched in his fist. Jack's vital signs were taken and he was wheeled off to the infirmary. Sam did not follow.

Sam watched him roll away and then dropped down on his bunk in despair and stared at Charlie's picture. She dabbed at a spot of blood fouling the picture then raised her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head in despair.

It was only when environmental services arrived with mops and bleach to address the congealing puddle on the floor beneath her that the major fled. She didn't want to witness Jack's lifeblood sopped up like gravy and disposed of as if it were hazardous waste.

*****

She should have been in the surgical suite, Sam knew. If the tables were turned and it had been her in the infirmary, nothing short of an all-out Goa'uld assault on the mountain would have kept the colonel from her side (maybe not even that). But Sam could not bring herself to face the inevitable moment when the monitor went flat and Doctor Fraiser looked up with big, wet eyes – her voice cracking – to tell Sam he was gone. It was only in the dark, safe confines of her personal quarters that Sam could pretend it had not happened.

Sam sunk down into a corner and buried her head in her hands.

The knock at her door a few hours later made Sam's heart literally stop. A hot, sour ball of grief burned the major's stomach raw. She was paralyzed by the mere thought of confronting the truth of Jack's demise.

Another tentative knock sounded on her door and Sam opened her mouth to respond. Only a sob escaped.

Finally, a third soft tapping came as the door slid slowly open. Daniel peered cautiously around the corner.

"Sam?" he called softly, squinting into the darkness. The major struggled to stand, mentally preparing herself for the inevitable.

Daniel saw the movement and crossed the room to help Sam to her feet. "It's okay," he reassured her. "Jack's alive."

Daniel's lips were moving, but the words didn't make sense to Sam. "The colonel?"

"He made it," Daniel cried happily throwing his arms around her.

Sam frowned. She was stunned. "What?" she sputtered. This was not an outcome the major had expected. Sam stood rigid in his arms. Losing the colonel after allowing herself to believe he survived would be far worse. She couldn't dare hope until she saw Jack herself.

"Janet will have to explain," he told her, "but the upshot is the bullet went in in such a way that it missed Jack's brainstem."

Sam winced at words like `bullet' and `brainstem.' It was all so wrong. `People just don't survive injuries like that,' she thought.

"Just come on," Daniel encouraged extending a hand for her. Sam cautiously took his arm and let Daniel lead her out of her quarters.

*****

Janet placed the phone back in the receiver and rushed out of her office when she saw Sam and Daniel approaching the operating room. She met the colonel's teammates in the hallway and conspicuously stood in front of the door to the surgical suite.

"Tell her, Janet," Daniel said in a rush of excitement as they approached. "Tell her Jack's alive."

Sam noted that Janet didn't look quite so relieved.

"Its true," she said, forcing a smile. "Colonel O'Neill survived the surgery."

All Sam could think of was the resulting damage to his fragile brain. "But will he be okay?" she asked the doctor.

"There should be no long term effects from the bullet wound," Janet said slowly. Sam picked up on the doctor's careful choice of words and grim demeanor.

"How?" she asked bluntly. "He shot himself in the head." Sam winced just hearing the words `he shot himself' as she said them.

"The angle of the shot," Dr. Fraiser explained clinically. "The bullet simply ricocheted off his skull and exited. All I can tell you is that if this had been anything but a head wound, we would have considered it a superficial injury."

Sam frowned in confusion. "But his service revolver," she wondered aloud. "I would have thought a 38 caliber bullet would do massive damage regardless of the angle of the shot." Sam looked at Daniel and he grudgingly nodded his agreement. He'd been so relieved at Jack's condition that it never occurred to him to question his recovery.

"That's the strange part here, Sam," Dr. Fraiser said frowning. "He didn't use his sidearm." The doctor shrugged. "It was a little 22 slug."

Sam stared open amazement. "Where in the world would he get…" The major was distracted by Daniel bouncing around Janet trying to peek in the window at Jack.

Janet shook her head at Sam. She had no idea where the weapon had come from.

"Its in my office if you want to see it," Janet said motioning the two of them down the hallway. She was hoping to detour Daniel from his attempts to visit the colonel. But even Sam failed to move away from the door.

"Can we see him?" Daniel asked impatiently.

Janet sighed and looked down at the chart in her hands.

"Janet?" Sam asked warily.

"He's not here," the doctor finally confessed.

"What?" Daniel asked, finally distracted from his attempt to get up into the little window in the stainless steel door. "Where?" he stammered.

"We had Colonel O'Neill transferred to the Airforce Academy Hospital after surgery."

"What?" Sam asked concerned for the colonel's physical health. "Why would you move him so soon?"

"Sam," Janet said carefully taking the major's hands. "We don't know that when Colonel O'Neill is conscious he won't try to harm himself again."

Sam's face fell as she digested this.

"We were lucky this time," Janet observed. "He's done no irreparable harm to himself." The doctor paused thoughtfully. "We may not be so lucky the next time," she said with concerned frown.

First fear she could still lose him gave way to anger they would send him away. "So you just shipped him off to the mental ward?" Sam accused.

"We don't have the facilities to keep the colonel safe here," the doctor said evenly, "and we don't have the means to treat him."

Sam wrenched her hands away from the doctor and turned away.

*****

He awoke with his head wedged in the corner of an empty white room face down. His knees were curled awkwardly beneath him and his butt was in the air. Jack couldn't imagine how he had gotten in to such a position. He went to scratch his face only to find his hands bound by cushioned leather restraints.

"Great," he mumbled. Jack flipped over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. His eyes swam with the effort and his head pounded mercilessly, but the colonel could tell was in a padded room.

He yelped as a sharp pain cut across his temples. The colonel raised his bound wrists to his head and inspected the thickness of bandages there. "Damn." He winced as another pang coursed through his head. It was definitely going to be a long night.

Jack had a vague recollection of awaking earlier in a hospital room. `We're just going to take you to your room now and give you a little something to help you sleep,' the voice echoed in his mind.

"Dιjΰ vu." He yanked at the restraints on his wrists again. "Another drugged up, strapped to the bed kinda thing." The colonel sighed deeply.

"Doc!" he bellowed. He had to get out of here. "Doc!"

*****

Daniel patted Sam's shoulders comfortingly. "Can we go see him?" he asked.

Janet knew they would bring tension and drama to an already tense and dramatic situation. But how could she deny them the opportunity?

After an uncertain pause the doctor nodded yes to them.

"I've just been informed Colonel O'Neill is quite conscious," Janet smiled ironically, "and giving the staff a hard time already."

Sam smiled at that; whatever had happened at least a little of the colonel remained.

*****

With the General's permission, Sam and Daniel left with a driver for the academy. They were informed that Teal'c was already at the hospital. Sam was not surprised. He probably rode in with the colonel after Jack's surgery.

Daniel squirmed uncomfortably in the car seat next to Sam. It hadn't been very long since Daniel himself had been in-patient at the Academy hospital. Rationally, Daniel accepted that mental illness is no different from and should be treated no different than physical illness, but, even knowing that he had been infected by one of Machello's inventions, did not spare Daniel the feeling of humiliation that washed over him as he remembered being locked in a padded room at the hospital. Jack was wrong – there was something worse than losing your mind and knowing it was happening: it was having the people you care about see it happen.

Sam was similarly preoccupied. She just stared out the window punishing herself. `How could I have not noticed?' she thought. `How did I miss this?' The major blamed herself mercilessly. Somehow, it had to be her fault. If she had been there for Jack instead of shutting him out after their Zatarc experience, maybe this wouldn't have happened.

They arrived at the hospital and were taken by two SFs to the psychological disorders ward. As they were escorted down the hallway Sam could sense Daniel tensing and when they reached the thick door with its locks and wire-enforced glass. He was almost visibly twitching.

Teal'c stood in the hallway outside the colonel's room, characteristically relaxed yet vigilant. Those who didn't know better would assume that the imposing man was guarding the door to ensure the patient's continued confinement. Sam and Daniel knew he was simply there to ensure the colonel's continued safety – even if it were only from Jack himself.

Daniel finally slowed to a stop. Pale and short of breath, he said "you go on ahead, Sam. I'll just wait here with Teal'c." Daniel frowned and pushed up his glasses.

Sam nodded sympathetically. She stopped, took a deep breath, raised her chin resolutely and waved for the attendant to let her in.

*****

The colonel sat on the floor, legs bent, with his arms resting on his knees and his bound wrists extended. He was rubbing his palms together and softly knocking his head against the thick white padding on the wall beside him. The gentle beat gave Jack some measure of relief from the pounding in his head.

Sam stepped tentatively into the observation room and cleared her throat but Jack studiously ignored her presence. He looked tired and beaten. `Why didn't I see this earlier?' she asked herself again.

After the door clicked shut, Sam called to him quietly.

"Colonel?"

It was only when he turned to look at her, that Sam saw the bandage and bruising from his earlier injury. She barely stifled a gasp. `Not injury,' she forcibly reminded herself, `suicide attempt.' It was important to Sam to remember why they were here. There was so much she had missed.

Jack struggled to his feet and the movement set off another wave of pain. He dug the heel of his hand into his right eye trying to settle his head.

"Major," he acknowledged with a nod, careful not to move too quickly.

Sam looked everywhere in the room except at the man standing before her. She couldn't bear to see him locked up in a cell like this. `Not Jack,' she thought. "Not him." Colonel O'Neill was the strongest man she knew. `How did this happen?' she closed her eyes wondering.

Jack watched her struggle, but neither moved to breach the gap between them.

"Come on Carter, tell the truth," he said bitterly, "you always knew it would come to this." The colonel spread his hands as far as the straps would allow and indicated the padded room in which they stood. Angry humor was the only defense Jack had left. He had been stripped of his clothing, his rank, his pride and his personal effects. Standing in cotton pajama bottoms and an ill-fitting top before her, Jack made an uncomfortable attempt at levity. His laugh was so brittle, Sam thought it would shatter and fall to the floor like little glass shards.

Sam didn't know how to begin to respond. She was trapped between wanting to comfort Jack and the rigid lines of military discipline that she had been raised on. The indecision paralyzed her. In the end they stood staring at each other – the major with unshed tears in her eyes – Jack with both pain and defiance fighting for control.

Jack frowned. He needed something from her. The colonel couldn't ask, but he willed her to understand. Jack needed Sam to treat him like she always had – a colonel in the air force and her commanding officer. They took everything else from him. Jack needed to keep his dignity.

Instead he could see the pity in her eyes. That was the worst of it all. He exhaled heavily. "Go home major," he said curtly and turned away.

Sam shook her head – partly in response to his request, partly shaking herself out of her immobility. He looked so fragile, she thought.

"Colonel?" Sam crossed the room to his side. Jack willfully didn't turn.

She studied his back for a moment and wondered what he was thinking. "Jack?" she asked softly, laying a light hand on his shoulder.

That was even worse. `Jack.' Barring alien possession, the major never used his given name. It was always "sir" or "colonel." Jack stood with his hands on the wall resting his forehead against the padding. He was too tired to cope with this right now.

"Just go," he mumbled. His voice was muffled by the soft cloth wrapping the room in safety.

He sounded so small – so lost. Sam didn't have a clue what to do. Finally with a sigh, she dropped her head in disappointment and left the room. Sam had failed utterly and completely – first to recognize any sign of depression in the colonel on base and then to provide any comfort and support here.

It was only after he heard the door close that Colonel O'Neill turned around to see if she would come back.

She did not.

*****

"How is he?" Daniel asked. Sam's shoulders were slumped in defeat and she stood in front of the door staring at the floor before her.

"Sam?"

It was only when she looked up that Daniel saw the tears streaming down Sam's face. He walked over and wrapped her in a comforting hug. Sam sobbed in earnest burrowed into the archeologist's shoulder.

As he stood in the hallway holding the major, Daniel could see through the thick window in the doorway to Jack's room – the small expanse of glass that separated the sane from the insane, Daniel now from Daniel then, and Jack O'Neill from everybody and everything he had cared about. Daniel met Jack's eyes and saw the shame in them. He nodded and looked away. It was enough that Jack knew Daniel had been there for him. It wasn't necessary to subject the colonel to any further humiliation.

That was the last time either were permitted to visit. According to Janet, it was Colonel O'Neill's own request that no visitors be allowed. Sam raged at the restriction but even blatant insubordination and threats of resignation didn't win her any further permission to see the colonel.

*****

So he fell down the rabbit hole. He'd been here before, Jack thought. Historically, it had usually taken copious amounts of Jack Daniel's to get him here. How it had happened this time, Jack wasn't quite sure. Yet here he was again - locked in a padded cell, feeling completely out of control.

Jack bounced between nervous anxiety and debilitating depression. He spent the day exhausted and the night too wired to sleep. The following morning found him weighed-in and his temperature and blood pressure screened. Breakfast was served at eight, counseling started at nine, lunch was served at noon, afternoon session was at one, dinner was served at six and `lights out' was at nine. Between times there was crashing boredom followed by intense loneliness.

Although he had a schedule, punctuality was irrelevant. Hours were merely marked by another pill or another shot. Jack was trapped in the land that time forgot.

Day two of the hostage crisis came and the drugs and the claustrophobia of his 10 x 10 cell were beginning to have an effect on Jack. Irritation, exhaustion, anger, hopeless – his mood changed with surprising frequency and force. He couldn't concentrate and his memory was shot.

Colonel O'Neill's doctors were angered by his refusal to participate in therapy. Then again, Jack thought, he had never been very good at that "bark like a chicken cluck like a dog" kind of thing anyway.

By the fourth day, Jack's behavior was completely unpredictable. The colonel was erratic, irrational and prone to violent outbursts. By now, even if he were willing, Jack would have been unable to participate in therapy in any meaningful way and his only "treatment" now was medication.

Colonel O'Neill's continued deterioration concerned Janet and Dr. Mackenzie. By this time, his attendants weren't sure if they'd find him non-responsive and curled in a ball or violently agitated. The only response seemed to be to administer increasing levels of psychotropic drugs. After a particularly aggressive incident, Doctor Mackenzie prescribed an anti-psychotic medication for the colonel.

In one of his rare lucid moments, Jack realized the slippery slope he was on. The colonel had been a lot of things in his life, but psychotic was never one of them. If he were psychotic now, Jack was sure it was the drugs that were making him ill. When Colonel O'Neill asked to be taken off the medication, Doctor Mackenzie refused.

"No, Colonel, you need your rest," Jack was told.

"I've rested enough," Jack yelled. "Damnit! Let me out." He flung himself through the line of burly aides. One caught him easily and held him by pulling the colonel's arms behind his back. Dr. Mackenzie nodded to the nurse who administered a shot.

Jack dropped to his knees trying to shake off the fog in his mind and then fell flat as consciousness ebbed. Colonel O'Neill did not move for two days. The doctor couldn't tell if he were unconscious or had fallen into a catatonic state. The colonel's condition was grave.

In the end, Jack was thankful his teammates didn't have the opportunity to see him. The colonel knew he was slipping farther and farther into the abyss.

Janet received periodic reports on the colonel's condition. The doctor was concerned about the increasing frequency of his catatonic episodes. Sam begged Janet for an update on Jack's condition, but the doctor was bound by patient confidentiality obligations. All Janet could tell her was "we're losing him."

*****

Sam didn't have time to mourn.

As scheduled, SG5 had returned to P4X-347 for a six day mission to study the Goa'uld palace. Two days after coming home, Lieutenant Barber succeeded in committing suicide by throwing himself into the vortex of a forming wormhole.

The remaining members of SG5 were similarly all exhibiting profound symptoms of depression and were confined to the infirmary for observation. Dr. Fraiser ordered brain scans and blood tests and found marked slowing of their neurological functions.

The doctor reported her conclusions to General Hammond.

"And?" Hammond prompted.

"Neural transmitters relay messages in the body. Too many or too few of these chemical transmissions can result in anxiety or depression or any number of emotional or physical disorders."

"Doctor, does this have anything to do with what happened to Lt. Barber?" the General asked.

"Well, with the remaining members of SG5 all reporting identical symptoms, yes, it seems almost certain," Janet answered.

"And Colonel O'Neill?"

"Well, without a PET scan, its only speculation, but I doubt that his condition is a coincidence."

General Hammond agreed. Something on P4X-347 was triggering a suicidal response and the remaining members of SG1were tasked with returning to the planet to collect samples for a thorough investigation.

It only took a matter of hours before Sam returned with the sealed samples. Teal'c and Daniel remained behind on P4X-347 to continue their investigation. Upon returning to the planet, SG1 had discovered a young boy – Loran – hiding in the palace. Daniel and Teal'c hoped he may have the answers they needed.

As Sam awaited the results of Janet's analysis, she sat on a stool in the medical lab thinking about Colonel O'Neill. Once again the tears fell. `Things will never be the same,' she thought hopelessly. Grief choked the major and threatened to suffocate her. A small sob escaped that attracted Janet's attention.

"Sam?" she asked.

The major surreptitiously wiped the tears off her cheek and pretended to be reading a chart. "Yep?" Sam responded not looking up, trying to hide her tear-choked voice.

The Doctor walked over and looked closely at Major Carter. Janet lifted Sam's face with two fingers under the major's chin and looked into her eyes. Sam tried to look away, but Janet held her chin firmly in hand. Finally Sam couldn't hold her composure and the tears fell like rain.

"I'm sorry," she choked. "I don't know what's gotten into me."

"I wouldn't just assume its you," Janet told her pointedly.

"You mean its happening to me?"

"Its quite possible," the doctor told her. "I'd like to run some scans and compare yours with SG5's results."

The major submitted to a PET scan and blood tests. The results came back startling. Although she had only been on the planet for a short period of time, Sam's body exhibited marked abnormalities.

"Whatever's causing this actually accelerates neural activity in the brain and causes a dopamine-like effect in the body."

"Like drugs?" Major Carter asked.

"Only as long as you're on the planet," she said. "Shortly after you return, neural activity begins to decrease and depression results. Lab work confirms it."

"So this is an addiction?" Sam asked.

"Yes."

"Great," Sam groaned.

"But the withdrawal can be fatal," Janet told her. "You're going to have to go back to the planet," she said. "And you'll have to take Colonel O'Neill with you."

*****

Sam knocked softly on the door of the Colonel's room. She didn't know what to expect. The major had been warned about Jack's intermittent catatonia. She was almost relieved when a voice bellowed from within.

"I told you I didn't want any visitors."

Sam appeared cautiously through the door. "Hi," she said falsely casual.

The colonel looked away embarrassed. "Especially her," he muttered trying to straighten the ill-fitting shirt he had been left to wear. In less than two weeks, he had lost significant weight.

Jack looked horrible, Sam thought, disheveled, unshaven, his eyes were red and puffy, his face drawn. She barely recognized the man that was her commanding officer.

"Colonel," she approached tentatively.

Jack danced nervously, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Come to see the animal in his cage, did ya?" the colonel spat. Hostility was his only remaining defense.

"Sir?"

"Kinda silly trying to maintain military lines of authority here, Carter," he taunted. "This pretty well ends my career, don't ya think?." His hands ran from the pockets of his loose slacks to ball defiantly on his waist and finally rubbing his face frantically. "You can stop calling me sir."

Sam had never seen such frenetic motion. Jack paced the outer limits of the room. Sam just watched him walk forcing herself not to react to his appearance or respond to his taunts.

"Well, what do you want?" he demanded.

Finally as Colonel O'Neill paced past for a third run, Sam reached out and lightly touched his arm. The colonel stilled in response

"Barber is dead," Sam said bluntly. That got his attention. Colonel O'Neill turned to the major, but couldn't quite raise his eyes to meet hers.

"What? How?" The colonel almost swayed.

"SG5 went back to the planet, P4X-347," she explained. "Within two days, he was gone." Sam reached out a steadying arm. The colonel spared a look at her and walked away.

"Damn," he muttered and dropped against the wall. "Damn!" he cried again pounding his fists on the wall.

"He threw himself into a forming wormhole," the major continued following Jack across the room. She sat down next to him.

"It wasn't you," she said seriously trying to catch his eyes. Jack looked everywhere in the room except at Sam. His fingers worked nervously at a loose string on his hem of his shirt.

"Sam, I tried to kill myself," he said wincing. Just admitting it was painful. At that his foot began tapping rapidly against the floor. Sam wished he would stop fidgeting. It was beginning to unnerve her.

"Sir, please," Sam said placing her hands on his to still them. The major sought his eyes. "Listen to me," she implored. "It wasn't you. It was something about the planet."

Jack looked up at her as if he were considering her words then shook his head rejecting them.

"Think about it," Sam urged. "You did everything you could to fight it."

Jack was twitching in earnest now. He clasped his hands and nervously rubbed his palms together. Jack ran his fingers through his hair and scrubbed his face hard. Clearly this was a subject he didn't want to broach – especially with her.

"Think about it," she repeated forcefully willing him to listen. "The angle of the bullet?" she reminded him. "You couldn't have shot that poorly if you'd been knocked to the ground just as you fired." Jack frowned – words like `shot' and `fired' made him shudder.

"And the bullet?" she continued. "Where in the world did you get a 22 caliber gun?" Sam asked. Jack looked up at her in confusion.

"Huh?"

"It was a little slug," she told him demonstrating the small size of the bullet with her thumb and index finger. "You used a .22."

`Where did I get that gun?' he asked himself frowning. The colonel had virtually no recollection of picking up a gun or deciding to pull the trigger.

"If you were truly intent on killing yourself," Sam said bluntly, "you did a piss poor job of it." Sam challenged him with a look. "And I know you're not that incompetent," the major concluded.

Jack just shrugged and looked away. It was too much to take in in his scattered state of mind.

Sam gently touched his chin and turned him towards her. "Colonel," she said softening. "Don't you see how hard your subconscious fought this?"

Colonel O'Neill closed his eyes. He didn't know what to think.

"Jack?" she asked. When he still didn't respond, Sam abruptly stood. "I have to return to the planet," she told him, "and you have to come with me." Sam reached out to help him stand. Jack looked at her a moment then took her hand.

*****

The first days were painful. The colonel was dealing with the physical effects of withdrawal. He had been on so much medication in the hospital that stopping the drugs cold turkey had given him a case of DTs. Jack was intermittently experiencing hot flashes and cold sweats. He had tremors, headaches and nausea. Sam stayed close by and more than once steadied her commanding officer when the dizziness overcame him and gave him cool wet towels when he vomited.

Emotionally, he wasn't much better. Jack seemed like a fragile shell of a man and Sam over-compensated by saluting and snapping to attention at his every suggestion trying to reinforce his authority. She barked out a `yes, sir, thank you sir' to him like a first year cadet. Colonel O'Neill physically recoiled every time the major saluted. Sam wanted to ensure that the colonel knew they didn't question his ability to command but Jack needed normalcy and room to heal. The two still had a gulf of misunderstanding between them.

Daniel, on the other hand, tended to avoid Jack – the colonel was a painful reminder of the archeologist's own illness and addiction. He spent most of his time with Loran and Teal'c working to translate the writings in the palace. Jack was almost thankful for the space.

Initially Colonel O'Neill's orders were tentative, almost apologetic. Jack couldn't seem to stand still nor meet anyone's eyes. But as the days progressed, orders that once sounded like pleading, started to sound like requests and then began to resemble commands.

Physically, too, he was beginning to regain his strength. The dizziness and nausea passed and he was putting on weight and gaining stamina.

Jack was recovering. Sam could see it in the way he carried himself but she still had a hard time not treating him like he was going to hang himself if she said the wrong thing.

*****

It didn't take long for Daniel to able to figure out how to operate the hand device and he was able to shut down the light at its source.

Knowing that the symptoms would reemerge, Jack, Sam, and Teal'c left to explore as much of the planet as they could before they became incapacitated again. Jack and Sam walked side by side. Teal'c characteristically took point. It was their first foray outside since returning to the planet.

Ostensibly they were looking for clues as to the nature of the addictive substance involved. But the colonel was just happy to simply breathe some fresh air after being locked in the hospital and then for all intents and purposes trapped in the palace for the past month.

Sam looked less enthused. She gazed over at the ruins, sighing loudly.

"What?" the colonel asked. Sam glanced quickly over at her commanding officer.

"I guess the reality that we may never go home is starting to set in," she said ruefully.

"Oh Hammond will keep us supplied with everything we need until we can figure this out," Colonel O'Neill responded unconcerned. "It's a nice beach," he added trying to be upbeat.

Major Carter just rolled her eyes. "Be a pretty good excuse for you, wouldn't it?" she asked irritably.

"Huh?" Colonel O'Neill was confused.

"To do nothing for a while," Sam accused.

"What?" The colonel asked surprised by her allegation. She had been treating him with kid gloves ever since they got to the planet. This was a marked change in her attitude.

"Forget it," she hissed.

"That would be forget it, sir," Colonel O'Neill reminded her as they continued walking.

"Oh, please," Major Carter said in annoyance. "You think I'm keeping that up if we're stuck here forever?"

"Listen Major," the colonel continued calmly.

"No way!" she spat in response.

"That's no way, Colonel," Jack told her forcefully. He may have been ill, but he had never been relieved of command. The colonel was still in charge and it was time for him to prove it – the major was bordering on insubordination.

"What, I'm just supposed to accept that that's the way its going to be?" Sam argued.

"That's the way it is," he answered raising his voice.

"What difference does it make?" the major protested. "Its not up to you."

Then it clicked. `Its this damn planet again,' Jack thought.

"Carter," the colonel stopped walking and grabbed the major's vest and pulled her towards him. "You're in withdrawal," he yelled over her protests.

"Oh, I'm in withdrawal…" she taunted him cruelly.

"Yes," he said calmer, "and so am I." They stood face to face mere inches apart breathing hard. The colonel held Sam by the straps across her chest. Likewise she had a dangerous grip on his vest and glared at him like a caged animal.

Jack felt the urge to close the small gap between them and plant a bruising kiss on her lips. Sam just wanted to slap him.

"O'Neill." Teal'c interrupted the silent power struggle between the two.

The colonel spared one last look at Major Carter and then walked over to investigate the two skeletons half-buried in the sand. "Loran's parents, I presume," he observed.

*****

They returned to the palace to find Daniel working on the translations. Jack bent over in pain.

"What's wrong?" Daniel asked.

"Oh," he moaned. "We're going through that withdrawal thing again."

Sam turned away. Tears were threatening to fall. She shook off the cloud and fought for composure.

"I felt fine the whole time you were gone," Daniel informed them.

"Actually, sir, I'm starting to feel myself again," Sam stammered.

"Me, too," Jack said with a suspicious frown. "What's going on?" He looked at Loran who simply shrugged.

"Something other than that light must be affecting us," Major Carter opined.

The colonel agreed. "Let's find out what it is."

Now that her symptoms had subsided, Sam regretted her behavior immensely. Jack, on the other hand, felt normal for the first time in weeks. Sam had finally stopped walking on eggshells around him and the mantle of command slipped easily back onto Jack's shoulders. He had control.

SG1 stood in the light chamber.

"Well, its sure not as much fun to look at with the light off," Colonel O'Neill observed dryly.

"Sir, I think you may be on to something," Sam thought aloud. "The light's not what's affecting our minds. Its just designed to take advantage of the altered state of our brain chemistry."

"So, entertainment?" Daniel suggested.

"Maybe," Sam responded, "obviously it triggers a chemical response, but it's not the direct cause of the imbalance."

"Then what is?" Jack asked his voice rising in frustration. He looked pointedly at Loran. Finally the young man ran to the pedestal and flipped a switch at its base. They heard a soft mechanical hiss and the cover to the control panel fell as Loran fled the room in tears.

"Figure that thing out," Colonel O'Neill ordered shortly and followed the young man out.

"Yes sir," Major Carter responded as Jack left the room.

Jack sought Loran in his quarters. Loran confessed that his parents had died when he turned off the machine and he feared the same thing would happen to SG1.

"I don't want you to die," Loran sobbed.

Jack placed a comforting hand on his should. The colonel assured the young man that no harm would come to them or him. Loran was not convinced.

Jack returned a short while later to check on Sam and Daniel's progress.

"What have you got?" Jack asked.

"We think we can turn it off," Daniel said hopefully. Loran looked frightened.

"Daniel and Teal'c have translated some of the writings on the pedestal," Sam interjected. "We think it was meant to be turned down incrementally."

"No, don't do it," Loran pleaded. "You'll die."

"The Goa'uld would have been attended by human slaves here," Daniel explained, "so, well, the palace would have had to have been safe for them."

Loran shook his head insistently.

"We've already turned it down a notch with no adverse effects," Daniel pointed out.

"Within two or three weeks your brain chemistry will return to normal," Teal'c added. "And you will be able to return home."

"So two weeks in a palace by the beach…" Jack paused and puckered his lips in thought. "Cool."

*****

A week later they ventured out again for a short trip to the beach. The walls of the palace were closing in on the Colonel and his 2IC and the risks of the more serious side effects of withdrawal were minimal now.

Jack and Sam sat on the beach together and threw rocks into the water. Sam was thinking about the cruel things she had said to the colonel the last time she walked the beach with him – particularly in light of the fact Jack had only recently been committed to a psychiatric hospital. It may have been the effects of withdrawal, but she was still ashamed by her behavior.

Sam wanted to apologize. More than that, she wanted to talk about what they – what HE – had been through. She just didn't know how.

Grasping for a way to start a conversation, Sam blurted, "so Loran's parents drowned themselves?"

"Yep," the colonel responded vaguely, concentrating on the spirals he was drawing in the sand.

"I can't imagine that," she said. Sam shifted uncomfortably, but continued to try to engage Jack. "Swimming away from shore until they couldn't swim any farther."

The colonel just shrugged and shook the sand off his hands.

"Then, finally exhausted, slipping under the surface of the water and drowning." Sam shivered with the thought. "How horrible would that be?" she asked.

Colonel O'Neill sighed and looked away. "Actually, Major, its not so bad," he said. Jack flung another rock into the water and watched the ripples a moment. "Walk into the water, take a deep breath," he said. "Fill your lungs with water and die. It sounds like a rather peaceful way to go."

Sam looked up sharply. "Sir?"

"I've spent a lot of time to thinking about it, Carter," Jack responded sadly, perhaps even bitterly. He looked out over the sea of water.

Sam recognized that the colonel was talking "before" – before the SGC, before his life here.

He had suffered through paralyzing depression after his son had died, but Jack had conquered it. The Stargate program had given him a new purpose in life. Now through some alien intervention, Jack was once more fighting the compulsion to give up. How long could a person fight suicidal impulses before they gave in to them? she wondered. It wasn't fair.

"Colonel?" She asked softly but left unspoken the question she wanted to ask: `What are you thinking?' He answered it anyway, as if he could read her mind.

"Oh Carter," he waved dismissively. "Don't worry. I'm fine."

He was lying and she knew it. That this conversation had even occurred was a testament to just how profoundly ill Jack had been. But Sam also knew he would be okay. Colonel O'Neill was a survivor.

"It's just…" Colonel O'Neill trailed off and stared off at the clouds.

"Colonel?"

Jack shook his head. "It's just, I remember this," he said softly tapping a finger against his forehead.

Sam closed her eyes. She could say nothing to make it better. Jack had to decide for himself again whether he lived or whether he died. Nobody could do it for him.

But Jack did not have to face the darkness alone, she thought. Sam could not make the choice for him, but she could support him and help him through the pain.

The colonel sighed again and frowned deeply.

Major Carter looked at him thoughtfully and then shifted her weight slightly to close the gap between them. Her head rested comfortably against the colonel's forearm and her hand gently patted his knee.

Then, to her surprise, Jack reached over and pulled her up into an embrace. He clung to her as if his life depended on her strength. The colonel needed something from her. This time, Sam knew what it was. She wrapped her arms tightly around Jack in response and kissed the top of his head softly.

They sat entwined together listening to the comforting lap of the waves on the shore.

Jack closed his eyes in relief. He could see a glimmer of light – a glimmer of hope – and for the first time in a month, felt almost whole again.