Jackfic Archive Story


Acting on Impulse General Jack Year Three - Part Twelve

by Flatkatsi

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).

Christ, I was dying here!

I made another run for the bathroom and, after puking my guts out again, finally decided to stay there - a decision I should have made yesterday soon after I'd slugged those three shots of whiskey. I hunkered down next to the toilet, one arm resting across my stomach and my knees pulled up tight, and waited for the next wave of nausea.

Maybe I should call someone. A doctor. A mortician.

But then I'd have to admit I'd been a total moron and that wasn't something I was prepared to do.

No, I'd just have to ride it out. Eventually I'd stop throwing up. Or I'd die. At the moment it was an each way bet which was the better option.

Goodness knows how much later it was that a sharp rap on the door woke me from the stupor I'd fallen into.

I knew whoever had decided to come calling would know I was home by the truck out the front and the windows thrown wide open, so I couldn't just ignore them. I got to my knees, groaning at the need to move my abused body, and using the toilet seat, hauled myself up. I didn't look in the mirror. My visitor could take me as they found me, tell me their business, leave and let me go back to camping out in the bathroom with my head down the bowl.

The distance to my cabin door had never seemed so far, I got there and yanked it open.

"O'Neill, I . . ."

The rest of Teal'c's words were lost in a somewhat startled squawk as he caught me.

"Bathroom - quick," I managed to moan into his chest.

As I would have expected, the one member of SG-1 I could almost always rely on to follow my orders dragged me straight to where I wanted to go. He kept hold of me as I expelled more of the stomach acid that was all I had left in me, and then left me kneeling there while he got me a glass of water.

I swallowed it gratefully, feeling it ease the burning in my throat a little.


"You are welcome. You are unwell?"

I took up my position on the floor again, my back against the wall, and looked up at him, shaking my head. "No, just stupid."

He raised the Eyebrow of Death and I felt compelled to explain further. "I had a couple of drinks."

"I understood the medication you are on reacts extremely poorly with alcohol."

"Yeah, well. . . it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"How long have you been indisposed?"

I almost managed a smile at the 'indisposed'. Trust Teal'c to make puking seem dignified.

"I don't know. What time is it?"

"It is early morning, O'Neill."

I made a quick calculation. "About twelve hours then."

He raised a second eyebrow to join the first. "Should you not seek medical assistance?"

I turned back and spat into the toilet then pulled myself up and stood, swaying, my eyes shut. "No."

"Do you feel that is wise?" A hand I assumed was his steadied me.

"I'll be fine. I feel better already." I waited, hoping the world would stop spinning around me, and when it didn't, blindly pointed in the direction of the living room. "Give me a hand?"

It wasn't until I was lying on the couch that Teal'c spoke again. "You are correct, O'Neill."

I waited, and when he didn't speak again, opened one eye and looked up at him. "What?"

"You are stupid."

Oh god! I really didn't need this. My mood went from sorry for myself to angry in the blink of one of my extremely red eyes.

"What are you doing here anyway?"

He moved away, sitting in the armchair opposite. "General Hammond contacted me and asked me to come. He said he didn't want you to be alone."

"Did he tell you why?"

"Merely that he was concerned for you." His eyes turned to the coffee table and I realised the still open bottle of whiskey was sitting there. "Rightly so, it seems." I could tell by his voice that he was worried and I found my anger lessening slightly. "What has transpired, O'Neill?"

I shut my eyes again and rested my head on the couch arm. "Nothing much. I've just lost my command and probably my career. You'll be getting a new commander on Monday. Don't give him too much lip, he's one of the best."


"Trouble, back-chat. I know how you are - can't keep your mouth shut, always mouthing off."

He didn't answer, and I peered at him. He was looking at me and doing that silent routine he always tried when he wanted me to talk. Well, it wasn't going to work this time. No way.

"So, you drew the short straw?" Crap. I shut up again, determined not to say anything else. "I'm fine. You didn't have to come." Damn!

"Yes, O'Neill, you are clearly 'fine'." I never knew so much meaning could be injected into one word. For a man of few words, Teal'c sure says a lot.

I sat up, putting my feet down on the floor. I couldn't take my eyes from the tall, half- filled bottle in the middle of the table, so close to my hand.

Then it was gone.

I jerked, startled as Teal'c grabbed it and walked out of the room. The sound of liquid running down a drain came seconds later and I yelled out a protest. "Hey! That's good stuff." I stood, ready to follow him to the kitchen, a wave of anger making my eyes blur and my heart race, but I barely managed three steps when the nausea hit again - this time even fiercer than before and I doubled over. Everything went black.


"Stay still."

I struggled against the hand that pressed against my chest, holding me down. I wasn't going to just lie there this time. This time I would fight. I pushed, digging my nails in, trying anything to make him let me up. There was a gasp of pain and for a moment I thought I had won - that this time he wouldn't take me. It was a dream, but it wasn't, it was real, and if it was real I'd lost.

"O'Neill. Stop."

I wouldn't stop, because stopping meant giving in.


"He appears to have experienced another flashback to the incident, doctor."

I lay still and listened as Teal'c spoke to Doctor Kasanji, cringing at every word as my failure was laid out baldly. I had thought I was strong, that now I knew what had happened, I would be able to deal with it. I wasn't going to have any more nightmares, I wasn't going to let myself get depressed. I would handle things.

Well, I wasn't strong at all. I was weak.

Too weak.

I lay there and wallowed in my misery as my gut twisted again.

Footsteps and a hand on my arm.

"Doctor Kasanji says that the nausea should pass sometime in the next twenty-four hours. He is very disappointed, O'Neill, and suggested I return you to his care immediately. When I refused he gave me instructions I must follow. Here," the hand pushed at me and I opened my eyes. "You must drink as much water as possible to re- hydrate yourself."

I nodded, sitting up and taking the glass he offered.

"Have you taken your correct dosage of the medication he has prescribed?" I nodded again, and he eyed me in a calculating fashion as if gauging my truthfulness, before nodding. "Then it is time for your next dose."

I accepted the pill he held out and swallowed it down.

He took the empty glass from me. "Now, try to sleep." I lay back down, obediently closing my eyes, not wanting to fight the lethargy that had me firmly in its grip.

"Do not worry, O'Neill. I will watch over your dreams." Teal'c's large hand brushed my sweaty hair from my temple in a surprisingly gentle gesture, "You are not alone."


I eyed the eggs on my plate distrustfully, but knew better than to refuse to eat them. I wasn't vomiting anymore, but my stomach was still rather tender, and I would much rather have had a piece of dry toast. But one look at Teal'c's intimidating frown and I forgot about arguing. I pushed my fork into the yolk and hooked a piece, swallowing it with as much appearance of pleasure as I could manage.

The conversation was nonexistent. There wasn't really anything I could say that Teal'c didn't already know. I'd been stupid. Two days of throwing up was mild compared to what could have happened. I was lucky.

Hammond had sent Teal'c to watch me. He must have organized it almost as soon as he'd left my place, arranging to have him on a plane as soon as possible, with a hire car waiting when he landed. I was grateful for the tact he had shown, having T drive himself. The thought of some Airman seeing me in the condition I had been in was something else I didn't even want to contemplate. I may have lost my command, but I hadn't, I hope, lost my dignity. T had seen me at my worst before and I was sure, understood, even if he didn't approve, but I was very, very glad Carter and Daniel had both been offworld when the call came in.

Now, somewhat weak and shaky, feeling empty and yet not hungry, I was ready to do what I needed to.

I looked over at my friend, watching as he drew a deep draft of orange juice in. He was staring at me, his expression so unemotional that I could almost feel the concern reaching out to touch me. I thought for a few more moments, wondering if perhaps George had realised just how apt it was that he had sent me Teal'c. The man who had been First Prime and leader of thousands of men. The man who had lived far longer than I had, and done far worse things in his lifetime than I could ever conceive.

My brother.

He would truly understand.

"The bastard has got to suffer more - far more. I've lost my command because of him. I've almost lost my sanity. Because of him. I want him to know what it's like to lose everything."

"You have not lost everything, O'Neill."

I nodded slowly. "They won't let me retire, T, but I don't know what they hope to achieve by that. The President wanted me to take a post in Washington."

He frowned. "I am surprised."

"You and me both. I don't know if he offered it because he knew I wouldn't take it and at least had made the gesture, or if he genuinely expected me to accept. Needless to say, I declined."

"Indeed." He paused, clearly thinking. "O'Neill, I must ask. Are your superiors aware of the true cause of your illness?"

I couldn't help giving a small smirk, lowering my head as I did so. "If they were, do you think they would have left me free to act?" I spun my knife, watching it twirl on the tabletop.

"What did you tell Doctor Kasanji?"

The knife turned, its blade shining in the light. "He knows about the accident - the avalanche. And I told him about Ramsey's advances towards me, but I haven't told him the full story."

"Do you think that is wise? Would it not be beneficial for you to relate to him what you now recall of the incident?"

I put my hand out and stopped the blade, then looked up. "Maybe. But I'm not going to."

Teal'c's gaze held mine. "Is not trust one of the key elements in the relationship you should now have with your psychiatrist?"

"Yes." I nodded. "But there are very few people I can truly trust. Kasanji isn't one of them. You are."

He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement. "As I do you, O'Neill." He kept his eyes on mine. "We do what we must."


The dampness of the night crept slowly into my bones as I waited, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I clutched my jacket more firmly across my chest, a passing thought that it overlapped somewhat more than the last time I had worn it running thought my mind.

The large house was set well back from the road, something that had figured in my calculations. It wouldn't do for a casual passer-by to come running to the rescue or call the cops. The trees were another advantage, their large trunks and heavy branches obscuring much of the drive.

I was about to stretch my leg out to ease the stiffness growing in my knee when I heard the car. Instead of moving, I froze in place, giving the windows of the mansion a quick glance. They stayed dark behind their thin lace curtains and I breathed a sigh of relief.

The Cadillac cruised to a halt and I stood, slipping out of the concealment of the bushes.

There was, as I had hoped, only one person in the vehicle. The engine shut off and the driver's door opened.

I approached him silently, coming up behind just as he pulled a briefcase from the passenger seat and began to turn. The soft slam of the car door muffled his exclamation as I slipped an arm around his scrawny throat.

"Evening, sir." I put ever ounce of hatred I could muster into those two words and felt him stiffen in my grasp. "Bet you didn't expect to see me." Keeping the pressure on him, I pushed him down the drive. His briefcase dropped from his grasp, but I bent slightly and picked it up with my free hand, needing only one to keep the decrepit old man under control. I didn't want to leave obvious signs that something had happened to him - his car was locked and everything looked normal to a casual observer.

The car I was using, a nondescript sedan, was where I had left it - out of sight in the driveway of the next house. After three days of surveillance, my assumption that the occupants would be sound asleep at this late hour had been correct. I shoved Ramsey into the vehicle, swiftly securing his hands with the plastic ties I had brought for the purpose and handcuffing them to the seatbelt buckle in the back seat and wrapping a gag around his face before he could utter more than a few grunts.

I jumped into the driver's seat and looked back at him in the mirror, finding his eyes locked on mine. The heavy weight of my pistol pressing into the small of my back was a reminder of just how simple it would be to deal with him here and now. I could get rid of the body without any trouble and it would be all over.

Over and done.

But too easy. Way too easy - for him.

The drive to the empty warehouse I had rented was short, deliberately so - I didn't want to run the risk of anyone seeing us, even at this hour of the night. I left him in the car while I unlocked the door then unlocked the handcuffs and pulled him out. Once inside I pushed him ahead of me, into an inner room and when there, ripped the gag from his mouth and tossed him, still bound, across the room, uncaring that he gave a sharp yelp of pain when his knees hit the dusty floor.

I switched the light on, having already made sure the shutters over the single window blocked any light to the outside.

Ramsey stared up at me. "What the hell do you think you're doing, O'Neill? Have you lost complete control of your senses?"

The appropriateness of his comment had me laughing. My whole body shook as my amusement bordered on hysteria and I struggled for the control I could feel fast leaving me.

"You don't know, do you." I let him grope his way to his feet as I stood over him. "You don't know what you've done."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, O'Neill." He dusted off his clothes, in a vain attempt to appear unconcerned, but I could see the fear in his eyes. "Let me go and we'll forget all about this."

Forget? I'd never be able to do that. Ever.

I moved even closer, backing him up against the wall. "But you see, I've done the opposite. Rather than forget, I've remembered."

His eyes flickered down and he flinched. In that moment I knew he understood and I watched as what had been fear became terror.

His next words were spoken quickly, gabbled from his mouth as he tried to back away, pressing himself into the dirty cement behind him. "Think about what you're doing." He didn't try to deny anything, didn't try to offer excuses. He knew there was no point.

"I know exactly what I'm doing. The only problem I have is that I should have done it years ago."

"O'Neill. . . "

"Shut up!" My backhanded slap jerked his head back to thump hard on the cement. He put his hand up to wipe away the thin line of blood that ran from the corner of his mouth.

"I'll see you broken for this. You won't be able to run a meeting of the local book club."

"Too. . . late." I punctuated each word with another slap. "I've already lost my command because of you, so I've got nothing to lose." He slid down the wall, but I reached down and yanked him back up by the collar. "What I don't understand is, why? Why did you risk everything, risk being caught, just for the sake of a few minutes of pleasure?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You're crazy."

I'll give him credit, even faced with my rage, he didn't beg. Instead he stared me straight in the eyes and lied.

My spit landed on his cheek as I spat my words back out at him. "You remember, you bastard. I bet you remember every ass you've fucked and got off on it." I pulled him away from the wall, moving to the solitary chair in the center of the room. "Well, guess what. I remember every man I've killed. And sometimes I get off on that as well It's time I added a new memory to the collection."

His bravado had left him now and he whimpered, cowering in on himself where he sat. I looked at him, a tiny wizened shell of a human being, a man that had ruined so many lives and enjoyed himself while doing it, and I smiled, knowing that what I was about to do wouldn't lessen his evil, but would go some way towards paying for it.

I turned to the bag I had left earlier, when I had prepared everything, and took out the knives.

The smell of urine filled the air.



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