DISCLAIMER: No profit is intended in the writing of this story. Stargate – SG1 and its characters are the property of Metro Goldwyn Mayer.
BETA: Athaena28, she did a great job searching for the right medical terms. Thank you!
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Heroes
By Olli
Janet rushed through the woods just behind Daniel. Somewhere in front of them had to be Airman Wells. Soldiers were running around, smoke billowed between the trees and at some points the ground was burning. Automatic weapons hammered and staff weapons answered.
Wells' friend Bosworth had been crouched beside the wounded man and talked to him. "It'll be all right, Simon. Hang in there, all right buddy? We'll be home before you know it." He looked around for the medics and finally saw Janet and Daniel. "Over here!" he yelled. "Man down. Over here. They're here. There's a lot of blood coming from underneath him."
Janet and Daniel stormed through the smoke towards Wells and Bosworth.
"Hurry!" Bosworth yelled.
As they arrived, they dropped their gear and got to work. Bosworth spoke quickly. "I'm Bosworth. This is Wells. He's lost a lot of blood," he reported and stepped back making room for them. "I'll cover you from the ridge," he said and vanished into the bush.
"Okay," Janet said while she patted Wells down searching for injuries. "I'm Dr. Janet Fraiser. Can you hear me?"
"Yeah... hurts so bad... I can't move... can't feel my legs... I think it went right through me!" Wells was in a state of shock. This protective mechanism, of the body, helped him to keep a clear mind and didn't let him feel the pain. He lay on his stomach; a bandage provisionally covering the wound on his back. It was soaked with blood.
"Your name is Wells?" Daniel asked to divert Wells.
"Senior Airman Wells... Simon Wells... Am I gonna die?" he gasped.
"Not if I have anything to do with it." Janet spoke determinedly. She made it clear that she wouldn't lose this patient. "Okay, we need to roll him over and stop the bleeding," she told Daniel with a stern look. "Simon, you hanging in there?"
"Okay... easy..." Wells gasped. He knew the pain would be terrible but he also knew Dr. Fraiser and trusted her.
Janet knelt down at Wells' head and put her hands on his neck to stabilize it; Daniel would turn the man over. She looked at the archaeologist and nodded. "All right on three... One... Two... Three..."
Janet and Daniel tried to be as careful as possible but Wells screamed in pain. Finally, they had him turned onto his back and Daniel placed something under Wells' head. The doc began treatment.
"I'm Daniel Jackson..." He tried again to speak to Wells to divert him and to keep him conscious. Janet was glad to have Daniel's assistance.
"I know, I know... SG-1..." Wells gasped again.
"Okay, you're gonna be fine..." Daniel declared while he watched Janet do her job.
"Son of a bitch..." Wells went on. "He came out of nowhere! Shot me in the back..." Now the pain was visible in Wells' face but he tried to concentrate on Daniel's words.
"Let's talk about something else, Simon," Daniel interrupted. "What's going on at home right now?"
"My wife... she's pregnant..."
Daniel glanced again at Janet. She returned his look. No, her eyes said, she wouldn't lose this man. "Yeah?! This, uh... this your first?" Daniel continued talking to Wells. "Congratulations..."
Janet had to use a clamp on a blood vessel and Wells cried out in pain. "That's good! At least you felt that!" She saw the situation from a medical point of view. As long as someone could feel pain he was alive.
Suddenly a voice crackled from Janet's radio. The voice was loud enough to be heard by all three of them. "Colonel O'Neill! Our positions been compromised! We're not gonna be able to hold the gate very long..."
O'Neill's answer wasn't particular encouraging. "Doesn't matter. We can't hold the fort any longer either." Janet shot a glance at Daniel; they had to worry about Wells and tried to ignore everything else.
She joined in on the dialogue. "Colonel! I need more time to stabilize this patient... he can't be moved yet."
While she talked to the colonel Daniel pressed a bandage to Wells' wound. "You can't help me! Leave me!" That was definitely the wrong thing to say.
"Nobody is going anywhere," Janet shot back.
"I can't believe I'm not gonna see my son!"
"Okay, just stay focused, stay focused!" Daniel said to Wells and searched for the other man's eyes. "So, it... it... it's a boy you're... gonna have?" Daniel went on to get Wells' attention.
"Tell me the truth... I'm not gonna make it, right?" Wells sobbed.
Janet pushed an IV bag she had attached to Wells' arm into Daniel's hands and continued her treatment. "You're gonna be fine," Daniel said.
"Doctor Jackson... Please! Please! Just let me tell my wife! Let me tell my wife that..." Again Wells cried out in pain.
Janet and Daniel looked at each other and she nodded.
"Okay, Okay!" Daniel agreed and handed the IV bag back to Janet. She laid it on her shoulder and Daniel got the camera.
"Got it... breathe, Simon... It's okay, Simon." Janet pressed a new bandage to Wells' wound.
Daniel focused his camera on Wells. "Okay, you tell her yourself."
Wells looked at the camcorder "I'm so sorry about this... love you so much…" Wells started to cry again. "God, I just, I just wanted…" Again he cried out in pain. The certainty that he would never see his son was too much for him. "God! God, shut it off! Shut it off, I don't want her to see me die... Please God." Again cries of pain, Janet had to go on with the treatment she couldn't consider his physical pain at the moment.
Janet saw that Wells was talking himself more and more into a state of panic. She had to calm him down or the wound would break open again. Janet laid her hands on Wells' cheeks and forced him to look her in the eye. "Simon, Simon! Look at me; you are not going to die, okay! I did not come all the way out here for nothing. We've stemmed the bleeding. We're gonna get you to a stretcher. We're going to get you home with your family in no time, okay? Now you hang in there, airman." Janet let go of him. She had to make him fit for transport.
"Yes, ma'am," Wells panted.
At that moment a plasma blast hit Janet right in the chest!
She was hurled back a few metres; Daniel was stunned for a moment and stared at her lifeless body. Smoke rose from her torso and her eyes stared into the sky, broken and empty.
Wells had forgotten his pain for a moment and stared at Janet. "Oh God, what happened?" A MP5 rattled but it didn't register with either Daniel or Wells. "Is she hit?" Wells cried.
"I got him." Bosworth yelled triumphantly but before he could look after Wells and the others more Jaffa approached him. He took his MP5 in both hands and aimed for the nearest Jaffa.
As Bosworth opened fire Daniel jerked from his stupor. "Janet!" Daniel threw his camera aside and darted for Janet. "I need a medic! Fraiser's been hit! I need a medic," he yelled into his radio.
"Is she okay?" Wells asked weakly.
Daniel didn't pay attention to him. "Sierra Gulf Niner! I need a medic!" he yelled again into his radio. He touched Janet on her shoulder and she moved. It happened so abruptly that Daniel was startled for a moment. Janet rolled from side to side, slung her arms around her body and curled up into a foetal position. She tried to breathe but it caused her too much pain. Her brain shut down and she couldn't understand what had happened to her. Janet knew only two things: there was pain and there was no air. She gasped like a fish out of water but the more she tried to force air into her lungs the less she got. Her face became red and Daniel saw a slight blue tinge around her lips. She was suffocating right in front of him and he didn't know what to do.
"Dr. Jackson… What happened to her…?" Daniel looked over at Wells and saw that the man was trying to prop himself up on his elbows. Daniel jumped to his feet and ran over to him. He took him by the shoulders and pressed him back on the ground. "Damn, Wells! Are you nuts? Don't move."
"What is…?"
"She's seriously injured, Simon. I have to look after her. Can you manage by yourself for a few minutes?"
"Yeah. Go." Wells nodded and tried to relax. He panted heavily.
Daniel ran back to Janet. He yelled into his radio again. "Damn! Where's the medic?" Janet's face had totally turned blue by this time. He took her by her shoulders and pushed her flat on the ground. "Janet! Janet! Calm down. You must calm down. Think of Cassie! Okay? Think of your daughter." Daniel looked directly into Janet's eyes. "Think of Cassie and hang on," he said quietly.
Janet's eyes fixed on Daniel's and he went on talking to her. She used his voice and his eyes as a strong anchor in the storm of her agony. Daniel tried to ignore the blood trickling from the corners of her mouth. "Breathe, breathe. In and out, okay? In and out." Slowly Daniel got through to her, Janet breathing became more even and the blue colour in her face slowly turned back to red. "That's right. Hang on, Janet. In and out."
For a moment Daniel looked over to Wells. The wounded man returned his look and nodded. At the next moment a man dropped to the ground beside Daniel and stripped off a backpack.
"Okay. I'll take over." Without any consideration the medic pushed Daniel aside and bent over Janet. Daniel saw that he knew what he was doing and went over to Wells.
"How… how is she…?" The young soldier panted.
"She's alive, Simon. A medic is looking after her. In a few minutes we'll bring both of you back to the gate. Hang on, okay."
"'kay… few minutes…" Daniel patted Wells on the shoulder. The young man closed his eyes and breathed heavily while Daniel looked over to Janet.
The medic had examined her and given her an injection which made her pupils expand. The medic knew that he took a risk by giving her a painkiller but right now he saw no alternative. He bent over Janet and looked her firmly in the eye. For a wounded person it could be a life saving factor to know that there was someone who cared. "Okay, doctor. No open wounds. Your flak jacket saved your life but you've got several broken ribs. That's the reason you're having difficulty breathing. Do you understand?"
Janet nodded weakly. The medication took the edge off the pain but it was enough to let her mind work again.
"Good." The medic smiled at her. "You know what broken ribs are, don't you? Painful and unpleasant but not deadly, okay?"
Again a weak nod.
"You've treated this a thousand times, now you know how it feels. Stay here and don't try to move around." The medic grinned cheerfully at her. "All we have to do is get you on a stretcher and carry you to the gate, okay?"
Janet nodded.
"I'll look after your patient." Janet nodded again and the medic squeezed her shoulder slightly and ran to Daniel and Wells.
"How is she?" Daniel asked him.
"Just a second." The medic checked on Wells. "Okay, boy. What's your name?"
"Wells…"
"Okay, Wells. The doc had stabilized you, the wound is closed. All we need is a stretcher for you."
Daniel grabbed the medic by his arm. "What about Janet?"
The man looked seriously at the archaeologist. "Broken ribs and a punctured lung. One of the ribs is sticking into her left lung. That's the reason she has blood on her mouth."
"God."
The medic spoke into his radio. "Sierra Gulf Three! Medevac for two on position Sierra Gulf Niner! Come in." He waited but there was no answer. "Shit. I'll get some people and two stretchers. Doctor Jackson, look after them. Wells and Fraiser shouldn't move. I didn't told her about the lung so make sure she lay still." In the next moment, the medic jumped up and ran zigzagging through the trees. A plasma blast whizzed after him but didn't find its target.
On top of the ridge, Bosworth emptied his whole magazine into the Jaffa who had shot at the medic. "Bastard!" he yelled. In the meantime, he realized what had happened to Janet just a few metres away from him.
The next three minutes became endless for Daniel. He ran back and forth between Wells and Janet, bolstered them and made certain they didn't move. As Janet lost consciousness he checked her pulse; it was weak but steady. Finally, the medic came back with four soldiers and two stretchers.
"Over here!" Daniel shouted and waved his hand.
The soldiers crouched to the ground and waited for orders from the medic. He examined Wells first. "Okay. Garcia, Henderson! Load him up and get him outta here." He moved over to Janet and checked her quickly.
"Miller, Evans!" The other two men ran over. Because of her punctured lung, she needed special attention. The medic lifted her head carefully and Miller put a toby collar around her neck. Then they rolled Janet onto her side and put a backboard underneath her. With that, they could lift her without compressing her lungs too badly. Finally, Janet was on the stretcher and buckled to it. Miller and Evans took the handholds and vanished between the trees.
The medic looked at Daniel. "We're finished let's get outta here."
"All right." Daniel grabbed his radio. "Sierra Gulf Niner. Wells and Fraiser are evacuated. We're retreating." He didn't wait for an answer but turned to the ridge. "Bosworth! Bosworth, move it! We're clearing out!" While he waited for the man, Daniel tripped over something on the ground. It was his camera; he picked it up.
After one last volley into the bushes in front of him, Bosworth turned around and rushed down the slope. The three of them ran between the trees blasts from the Jaffa whizzing by them.
Breckman stood in the shadows. Just a few minutes ago, he had escaped his Air Force watchdog and sneaked into the infirmary. He was here on behalf of the President of the United States, he thought. He'd been hired to shoot a documentary about the Stargate Program. It disappointed and frustrated him that the SGC was so uncooperative: Hammond's narrow-minded interpretation of his orders, O'Neill's refusal to give him an interview and, finally, the fact that he wasn't allowed to witness important events.
But the public had a right to know. His entire life Breckman had served the truth. He had reported about the mob, political scandals and corruption and more than once he had been threatened or sued. Just recently, some rowdies had broken into his editorial office and smashed everything to bits. But he'd never let himself be bullied out of a story before and wasn't going to start now. Breckman was true to his beliefs: the Government existed to serve the people and not to lie to them.
After several hectic hours, all was now quiet in the SGC infirmary. In the intensive care unit, there were three beds separated by curtains. Breckman could hear the beeping of cardiac monitors. The doctors and nurses on call sat in a ready room on the other side of the infirmary staring at monitors and drinking coffee. They were ready to react to any usual reading coming from their patients.
Breckman walked softly to the first bed and peered behind the curtain. He saw the sleeping form of Colonel O'Neill. Breckman stepped besides the bed and took the patient's file. The information he wanted was on the first page of the chart.
Colonel Jack O'Neill,
Hit by staff weapon in the chest,
Second degree burns over 10% of his body,
Blunt trauma,
Condition: stable.
Breckman put the file back and went to the second bed. Carefully, he pulled the curtain aside and saw an unknown soldier. Again, he took the file:
Senior AirMan Simon Wells,
Hit by staff weapon in the back,
Second degree burns over approximately 18% of his body.
Heavy blunt trauma,
Rupture of the spleen,
Condition: critical but stable.
Breckman nodded to himself. It didn't sound great, but at least Wells was stable.
Then he went to the third bed. Quickly he stepped behind the curtain, looked at the patient and his eyes widened in shock. "Dr. Fraiser!" He pressed his lips together, angry at himself for his slip. Fortunately, nobody had heard him. Again he looked at the file:
Dr. Janet Fraiser,
Hit by staff weapon in the chest,
Heavy blunt trauma,
Four broken ribs,
Punctured left lung,
Condition: critical but stable.
Well, Breckman thought, there was something he could report on. As he turned to leave, he heard a door open. He heard light footsteps approaching the three beds hesitantly. He looked around, if he were caught here he would be in a great deal of trouble and his job would become that much more difficult. Thinking quickly, he stepped into a curtained area at the head of Janet's bed. He pressed his back against the wall and held his breath.
"Colonel?" It was the whispered voice of a female but Breckman couldn't identify it. "Colonel?" The voice was a tick louder but O'Neill didn't react.
Now a curtain rustled. "Wells? Are you awake?" There was no reaction from Wells but Breckman realized it was Major Carter's voice.
He heard footsteps and then saw Sam standing beside Janet's bed. Breckman peered through a small tear in the curtain. He saw how Sam took Janet's hand. The blonde stood there holding the doctor's hand and after some moments her shoulders began to jerk. Breckman recognized that the Major was crying silently. Finally, she pulled herself together again.
"Janet, I'm sorry. I know I made a fool of myself. If… When you're well again then… then I will do anything to…" Sam bent forward and kissed Janet's hand. During the battle she had seen Colonel O'Neill go down and suddenly there had been Daniel's cry for help over the radio. Sam had desperately wanted to run to Janet's side, but her sense of duty wouldn't allow it. After all, O'Neill was down, she was in command and had to coordinate the retreat. Besides that, she could do nothing but hold Janet's hand and get in the medic's way. So she'd stayed where she had been. Finally, Daniel had reported that Janet and Wells had been evacuated. That had given her hope: the dead wouldn't be evacuated, the dead would be recovered. If Janet had been evacuated she must be alive.
The moment she stepped through the gate, all thoughts of the combat zone left her mind. She could think of little else but Janet and trying to do everything in her power to make her well and repair their relationship. On her way to the infirmary, suddenly this Breckman was in her face asking stupid questions and she wanted to… Fortunately, she held her temper.
Sam tried to withdraw her hand but Janet held on tightly. "Hey," she whispered weakly and opened her eyes slowly.
"Janet?!?" Sam got to her knees beside the bed and squeezed Janet's hand.
"What would you do?" Janet's voice was quiet and hoarse. The trache tubes had been removed just a short time ago.
"I… I… Our argument, it was all my fault. Please forgive me," Sam sobbed. "Please forgive me… I couldn't bear it to lose you… Please forgive me." Tears streamed down her face as she buried it in the sheets and held Janet's hand between both of hers.
"What about Pete?"
"The whole Pete thing was nothing more than a big mistake," Sam whispered not daring to look at Janet. "I'm sorry." Again, Sam started crying.
Janet stroked Sam's hair while she whispered words of comfort trying to calm Sam down. Finally, Sam looked up, her eyes red and swollen, traces of tears on her face.
"Sam… Sam… Honey. We have to talk about this whole mess."
The blonde looked into Janet's eyes, nodded and sniffled.
The doctor chuckled. "There's Kleenex in the nightstand."
Sam couldn't resist and giggled. She grabbed a few Kleenex and blew her nose.
"That's better." Janet smiled. "What about Cassie?"
"I went to your house and told Cassie what happened. I brought her to the SGC while you were in surgery… Dr. Warner gave her a sedative. She's sleeping in one of the VIP quarters and Teal'c is looking after her. Warner won't let her see you until tomorrow."
"Okay… Keep an eye on her and if you think it's best, then bring her home." Janet grinned weakly. "You still have your keys?"
"Yeah, I still have them." Sam smiled back. This was the first time that Janet invited her to the house since their big argument.
"Your clothes are still in the closet… in the same place as before."
"Oh my God. Janet, I…" Again tears streamed down Sam's face.
"You have to go before the nurses catch you. I taught them well."
Sam nodded and stood up. She wiped the tears away with the back of her right hand; her left still in Janet's hand.
The doctor didn't let go. She looked at Sam -- her brown eyes wide open.
The blonde smiled, bent down and kissed her on the forehead.
But Janet still held her hand.
"Is that all I get?"
This time Sam grinned widely as she bent down.
A second before their lips met Breckman looked away. He knew he had no right to witness this moment. But he couldn't help hearing what happened next.
After a long while, both women parted and Sam whispered, "I love you."
"I love you, too." Janet looked at her lover and smiled. Actually, she had wanted to apologise to Sam, herself, and try to mend their relationship. Janet would've talked to Sam right after their return from P3X-666. She was glad that she had a second chance. She wouldn't waste it.
Breckman stood motionless behind the curtain. He was a little ashamed to witness this intimate moment but it would be much worse if he were caught now. Finally, he heard the curtain parting and Sam's footsteps as she left the infirmary. He decided to wait a few minutes till Janet was asleep again. What should he do? He asked himself. Should he report this? Yes, this was something that must be reported. But in which way should he do this? Reporting had to be objective but what report was 100% objective? Every report was stamped in some way by the reporter's point of view. He had to think about this and he needed more information before he decided what to do.
But what he had witnessed between Sam and Janet had been absolutely clear. And it was something that had nothing to do with his documentary. This had been a very private and intimate moment between lovers. Breckman had never pushed the ratings by throwing mud at someone – at least at someone who didn't deserve it. And if the Air Force found out about them…
Finally, he heard Janet breathing steadily indicating she'd fallen back asleep. Breckman left his hiding place and walked to the little door he had used to enter the infirmary. He stepped into the hallway, about to close the door, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was spun around and found himself looking into an angry face. His Air Force watchdog had found him.
Breckman sat in General Hammond's office. They had just watched the documentary. It was all there a reporter could dream of: a dramatic introduction about an extraterrestrial device discovered in Egypt; the decades of expensive, time-consuming and technological exploration of this device; and a brilliant young archaeologist discovering the secret of the Stargate. The first steps mankind had taken to other planets and the discovery of an evil and cruel enemy; the heroic missions of hundreds of young men and women on planets so far from earth the light of their suns would never be seen on earth; and the battles won and lost, not only in defence of the United States, but of the entire planet – earth.
One could see the dramatic rescue of Airman Wells and Janet as recorded by Daniel's camera; the party the SG teams had thrown for 'crazy' Doctor Lee and his incredible ceramic polymer that had saved more than a few lives after it was incorporated into the new flak jackets, and how Colonel O'Neill, Airman Wells and Doctor Fraiser had been cheered, in the infirmary, by their comrades.
In every scene of the documentary, the true personalities of the people who made up the Stargate program came shining through. No trigger-happy war machine, no bloodthirsty conquerors bent on destruction. One saw men and women who went through the Stargate to learn what was behind it, find new friends and protect their home world. Young men and women who swore, every time they stepped through the gate, that no one would be left behind – no matter what.
Hammond was baffled and a little moved by what he saw. He hadn't expected something like that from Breckman. "It's a shame no one's ever going to see it."
"Really?" The reporter looked at the general. This would be a good medium with which to introduce the people of the Stargate Program to the general public someday, Breckman thought.
"You don't think it's a bit too sentimental?" Breckman asked.
"No, it's good."
"Well, that's a relief." Breckman appreciated the general's praise. "To hear that from you, of all people, -- especially given how you felt about what I was doing. I mean I understood how you felt, but still…"
Hammond stood up, stepped around his desk and offered his hand to Breckman. "I'm a big enough man to admit when I'm wrong. I'm glad you stuck with it."
The other man took the outstretched hand. "That means a lot to me, sir."
"In the course of my career I've written a lot of letters to the next of kin. Nothing ever seems like it's enough. They deserved more. This is something more." Only thirty years of service in the military prevented Hammond from showing his emotions openly.
Breckman understood the general even without words. "Thank you, sir. Uhm, there is one thing General that's still missing, that could make a difference."
The General grinned. "I'll take care of it."
Breckman smiled and left the office. He would get his interview with Colonel O'Neill.
The End