Snow Fall

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Title: Snow Fall
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Daniel Jackson, Jack O’Neill, Samantha Carter
Word Count: 13,995
Categories: adventure, drama, team as family
Spoilers: Set in S2, somewhere between 2.13 and 2.16. Spoilers for the series to that point.
Warnings: descriptions of injuries, mild language
Summary: Daniel, Jack, and Sam explore a snowy, uninhabited planet that might contain Ancient ruins. When they run into trouble, Daniel has to get help—but it won’t be easy.


It wasn’t lost on Daniel that SG-1 rarely went to snowy planets.

It was an odd quirk of the universe that their randomly chosen destinations always seemed to eschew colder climates. As Daniel hated being cold, he never complained about the dearth of wintry excursions. He much preferred the deserts they often found themselves in. Or the plentiful forests, trees a common denominator in making planets habitable across the galaxy.

But he wondered about the probability of it all, and had discussed the same with Sam.

“Shouldn’t we have come across more ice planets?” he’d asked her one day over lunch. “I mean, there’s a lot of biodiversity out there and even here on Earth there are cultures that have lived and thrived in arctic regions for thousands of years. Shouldn’t we have encountered at least a few planets like that by now?”

“Not necessarily,” she’d told him, though she’d looked intrigued by the idea. “When the Ancients first built the Stargates, they would have wanted to place them in an area on the chosen planet or moon that would have been the most hospitable for life. And while humans can survive in extreme cold—as you’ve pointed out—that isn’t somewhere anyone would choose to seed life.”

Daniel had nodded in agreement. “True, but couldn’t some of those places have entered an ice age by now? It’s been thousands of years since the Stargates were first built—would that even be a possibility? Or are we still talking about too small a time frame for that kind of change?”

“It is possible,” Sam had conceded. “The timescale on Earth for those kinds of climate cycles are massive, but so is the planet. On a smaller planet with a different kind of orbit around its star, it could happen on a more condensed scale.”

“But it’s not very probable that we’d manage to come across one of those at random.”

“Not really, no.”

“And yet we’ve also somehow managed to avoid snow, even on the worlds we’ve visited during their winter? Snow can’t possibly be an Earth-exclusive phenomenon.”

Sam had smiled at that. “Unlikely. But it really could just be the luck of the draw. I mean, there’s the probability of such worlds existing, the probability that we actually have those Gate addresses in the computer, the probability of one of those planets having a climate that leads to snow, the probability of us picking that planet to travel to, the probability of us traveling during that planet’s winter—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Daniel had cut in, smiling. “It’s a flip of the coin and we’ll wind up knee deep in a snowdrift at some point.”

From its inception, the Stargate Program had been plagued by a kind of “speak of the devil” causality, so Daniel should’ve seen it coming.

Less than two weeks after his conversation with Sam, when a MALP was sent through to the next planet on their first contact list, the video they received back was of a snowy landscape as far as its camera could capture. There were trees scattered about—coniferous, by the looks of them—and dark shapes in the distance indicated a thick forest of the same only a klick or two from the Gate. Beyond those were the shadows of mountain peaks.

It appeared to be dawn on the planet, and the sky was clear of any snow or clouds. As such, General Hammond ordered a UAV be deployed to scout the area around the Gate for any signs of civilization or other points of interest that would warrant a mission. The UAV did manage to find signs of civilization, even if they were of a long-dead one. A little less than four klicks from the Gate, the UAV flew over the remnants of a moderate-sized city. The ruins were in a broad valley below the mountain where the Gate sat, and Daniel was immediately intrigued by the images the UAV transmitted.

“These structures look much more advanced in construction than what we typically encounter on our travels, and there is a deliberate design to how the city is laid out.”

They were in the briefing room, discussing the potential mission. He pointed at the grid pattern that was clearly visible in the image of the ruins being projected on the briefing room wall. Teal’c had gone to visit Bra’tac, so SG-1 was down to three, but as the planet appeared to be uninhabited, General Hammond had agreed to a three-member team for the trip. At the moment, the general was listening to Daniel’s descriptions with intent interest, no doubt waiting for him to provide some detail that would justify the exploratory mission. Daniel obliged.

“The symbols here—” he clicked to the next slide, showing a close up of a wall, carved with text “—are Ancient. It’s the same language we saw on Heliopolis and P3R-272, the ‘Place of Our Legacy.’”

“The one I supposedly spoke for a while there,” Jack said.

“The one you definitely spoke, which is the only reason why I can even translate this,” Daniel replied, waving a hand at the image.

“What does it say?” the general asked.

“It, uh, it appears to be a street sign, actually,” Daniel said with a smile.

“So it’s an Ancient city?” Sam had a look of wary excitement about her. They’d been left disappointed by Ancient sites before, but there was always next time.

“Looks to be, yes.”

“That’s good enough for me, Dr. Jackson. Colonel O’Neill, your team has a go.”

“But in the snow, General?” Jack half-heartedly complained.

“Better pack your thermals, sir.”

Sam kept her expression serious, but Daniel could see the laughter in her eyes. None of them were fond of the cold, and he foresaw a round-robin of teasing about it that would either help them get through the slog or turn into bickering. He hoped it would be the former. Or, if not, that they would find something interesting enough in the city to dispel any bad moods.

The data the MALP had collected over the previous twenty four hours indicated that the temperature on the planet didn’t get above freezing at any point during day, and went well into the negatives at night. Given the distance of the city from the Gate and the unpredictable nature of winter weather patterns, it was decided that the team would camp out in the city overnight. That would allow plenty of time for exploration, while also letting them use the safety of the city’s sheltering buildings for their camp, preventing them from having to set up in the open.

To carry the extra gear needed for weather preparedness and the overnight stay, they brought a small sled with them. Anything aside from emergency supplies—which they carried in their packs—was loaded onto the sled to be pulled behind them. They’d also been kitted out with ice climbing gear, at Jack’s insistence.

They arrived on the planet, designated P2F-004, in mid-morning. They stepped from the Gate and into a snow pocket formed by the establishment of the wormhole. The snow in front of the Gate had been cleared away in the long, narrow arc shape of the kawhoosh; outside of that bubble, the snow was a good two to three feet deep. The MALP had been run up onto the snow bank on the left side of the pocket, opposite the DHD, and the light snow that was falling was just beginning to pile up around it.

While Sam dug out the DHD and Jack laid out their climbing gear, Daniel pushed through the snow and cleared the area around the MALP. He knew—because he’d asked—that the MALP could continue to receive and transmit signals from a few klicks away even when under up to a foot of snow. But it seemed prudent to clear the build up while he was there so there would be more time before the MALP getting completely buried became a concern.

That done, Daniel helped Sam finish clearing the DHD, and then confirmed that it was connected. They all identified and memorized the point of origin symbol, then turned their attention to prepping for their hike. Daniel eyed the items Jack had pulled off the sled. He was familiar with most of them, having been given a crash course in mountaineering prior to their departure, but he wasn’t entirely convinced all of the effort was necessary.

“Do we really need all of this, Jack? This is barely a mountain.” He swept a hand toward the gentle downward slope that led from the Gate to the city, which they could just spot as a dark mass in the valley below.

“Yes, we do,” Jack simply responded.

His previous grumbling about having to be in the cold was gone, replaced by a level of focus that had Daniel paying closer attention.

“Snow cover can easily obscure the geological structures below it,” Sam further explained. “This looks like it’s just a low-angle decline, but that could all be snow. Underneath, there could be much sharper drop offs, and crevasses or canyons that we can’t see, but that we could fall through the snow into.”

“What Carter is trying to say is we could die, Daniel.”

“Isn’t that always the case?” Daniel replied, only halfway meaning to be facetious.

“Well, yes. But that’s why we’ve come prepared,” Jack replied, gesturing to the various pieces of equipment now organized into three groups. “So gear up.”

On hand, they each had two ice axes, at least two coils of rope, and an assortment of clips and connectors and anchors that Daniel couldn’t entirely remember all the names and uses of. His crash course had been very high-level, and had mostly consisted of repeated instructions to do what Jack said. So he followed Jack’s lead and packed away the items Jack told him to in the same way that Jack did, leaving only the axes out for him to carry once they set off. Packing complete, Jack and Sam got into their harnesses before Jack helped Daniel with his. Next they donned their helmets, which Daniel agreed were necessary, and their crampons, which he was less sure about.

“You don’t want to wait until you realize you need them to put them on,” Jack advised. “Ice is a master at hiding in plain sight, and you don’t want to find it by surprise.”

The last step before they could set out was to rope them together using long lengths of their line. Jack explained the reason to Daniel as he connected the first rope to his own harness.

“It’s so no one gets lost,” he said. “In any way. Mountain weather is unpredictable. A whiteout could blow up suddenly, and you don’t want anyone wandering off, thinking they’re moving toward a teammate only to get lost in the snow. And if anyone slips or falls, the people attached to them can act as an anchor and stop their progress.”

After some debate over the order of their chain, it was decided that Jack would take point. Sam had agreed to go, being the lightest, but though she’d been trained for this kind of exercise, she didn’t have any real-world experience with it. So Jack would go first, testing their way down the mountain. Sam would be in the middle with Daniel—heavier than her—acting as anchor on the end.

Positions decided, Jack gave Daniel another crash course as he tied the three of them together via their harnesses.

“Carter’s job is to follow exactly where I go. Your job is to follow her. Keep slack in the lines,” he advised, holding up the rope he had just used to connect Daniel to Sam and wiggling it to show the lack of tension. “You want to have that extra time to react in case something happens to the people in front of you. And if anything does go wrong, you immediately sit down.”

“Right, got it.” Daniel was listening raptly, but it took his brain a second to process what Jack had said. “Wait—sit down?”

“Sit down,” Jack repeated, more firmly. He demonstrated what he meant by shoving Daniel back into the snow behind him, then plopping down himself and digging his heels into the snow in front of him. “You immediately hit the deck and dig your crampons in. You want to lean your weight back so that you’re exerting backward force on your rope.”

“Don’t grab the line unless you have to,” Sam told him.

“If you’ve already been pulled off your feet, or if you get pulled off of them, you want to flip onto your stomach and drive your axes into the snow as deep as you can.” Jack did just that, flipping over and swinging first one, then the other axe deep into the snow.

Daniel slowly nodded as he got back to his feet. “Okay. And then?”

“Hold on with everything you’ve got.”

“If you’re down like that, it means you’re probably holding our weight,” Sam advised.

“And keeping us from plunging to our deaths,” Jack bluntly added.

Daniel blinked at him, then looked at the axes he was holding with new anxiety. “So, no pressure.”

Jack clapped his hands down on Daniel’s shoulders, the impact muffled by the thick gloves he was wearing and the even thicker layers Daniel was, and stared Daniel in the face. “Oh, all the pressure. Mine and Carter’s lives are in your hands.” He grabbed one of Daniel’s wrists and lifted the hand attached to it—which was still clutching an axe—and stared pointedly at it. “Literally.”

Sam gave Jack a disapproving look before turning a more encouraging one on Daniel. “You’ll be fine, Daniel. We’re going to take it slow and easy.”

“Oh, and you’ll also have to pull the sled,” Jack called over his shoulder as he turned away to pull on his pack. “Since you’re at the back.”

“Great,” Daniel muttered.

With some effort, they worked together to get said sled out of the Gate pocket and up onto the the snow. Then, after a final check that they had everything they needed, and all their gear was on properly, and none of Jack’s knots were coming loose, they started down the mountain.

Jack was being more cautious than Daniel had expected, a fact that increased Daniel’s own nerves. Maybe he had severely underestimated the danger they would be in on this mission. He’d just wanted to explore what might be the most extensive Ancient ruins they’d been able to locate thus far. It was a little annoying that they would have to risk their lives for it. But he told himself this was no different than having to keep an eye out for venomous snakes on digs in Guatemala, or making sure he stayed hydrated during excavations in Egypt. Nature was dangerous everywhere.

Daniel watched as Jack inched his way down the mountain. He would move one of his feet forward, using it to push at the ground in front of him, testing its stability. Once satisfied with his initial exploration, he would plant the foot in the snow and then slowly shift his weight onto it. If everything felt secure, he would put all his weight on that foot and pull his back one forward, starting the process all over again.

There were a couple of times where Jack started this process, only to freeze. Sam always went still in those moments, and Daniel could see her squat a little, as if she were bracing to throw herself down and take on Jack’s weight. Each time it happened, Jack would sidestep a bit and repeat his tests. Once he found the new ground to be more trustworthy, they began moving forward again.

It was a tedious, if necessary, procedure, and the slowness of their progress meant that Daniel eventually got bored. He focused on following directly behind Sam while keeping slack in the line between them, and on dragging the sled after him every few steps. But his mind, left without immediate stimuli, started drifting.

The snow-covered landscape had a calming effect, which was only exacerbated by the snow floating down all around them. Everything was quiet and still, and Daniel wondered whether there was even any wildlife nearby, watching their progress. Maybe most animals on this planet hibernated during winter. If this was winter. Maybe they had finally found a planet with perpetual snow.

He was just beginning to contemplate what kind of Ancient city would have been built on an ice planet when he was startled by the sound of a loud crack rending the silence. It sounded almost like a gunshot, and Daniel pivoted where he stood, for a wild moment believing they were under attack. The team was only lightly armed for this mission, but they never went anywhere completely unarmed. Had Jack or Sam fired their weapons? Could a wild animal have tried to attack them?

Then he heard Jack yell his name and Sam scream. Before he could react, he was jerked off of his feet.

He hit the ground hard, the impact barely softened by the snow. Dazed, it took him a heartbeat to realize that he was sliding down the mountain at speed. Recalling what Jack had told him, Daniel rolled onto his stomach and swung the ice axe in his right hand into the snow with all his might. He could feel himself slow down, but only a little. He had left his other axe dangling from his left wrist, and now he shook that hand around until he could grasp the axe handle. Once he had hold, he slammed it into the snow as well and pushed down as hard as he could with his entire upper body.

It wasn’t enough. He was still sliding feet first down the mountain, only now he couldn’t see where he was going. He could still hear Jack’s and Sam’s voices, but he couldn’t make out any of their words over the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to pull himself up so that his arms weren’t fully extended over his head. If he could get more of his weight over the axes, maybe he could drive them down to more solid snowpack, or even ice, and stop their slide. But even as he attempted it, he knew he wouldn’t be able to; the pressure pulling him down was too much for him to fight. Instead, he tried to get the picks on his crampons to dig in, but he couldn’t do that in his current position, and flipping back over was no longer possible. He could feel the weight pulling at him and he knew that at least Jack, if not Sam as well, were free falling somewhere below.

The friction of the snow against his cheek was beginning to sting, and his eyes were watering. His hands were starting to cramp from the death grip he had on the axes, and his shoulders were burning from his efforts, but he could feel himself slowing down so he only pushed harder. Just as he thought he might be able to arrest their progress and take a breath, he felt the ground disappear beneath his legs.

He let out a cry of astonishment and fear that seemed to echo in the sudden stillness as he finally jerked to a stop.

The lower half of his body was hanging in thin air; Daniel could feel the lip of the ground he was on digging into his hips and stomach. Instinctively, he brought his knees toward his chest, basically grabbing at the ledge with his body since his arms were otherwise occupied. The rope attaching him to Sam was swaying slightly, rubbing back and forth across his lower back.

“Sam?” he called out. “Jack!”

“Daniel!”

“Daniel, hold on!”

“Oh, no, I thought I’d let go so we could all fall to our deaths together,” he wryly responded to Jack’s directive. His arms were starting to shake.

“That’s good, hold on to the sarcasm,” Jack called. “You’re gonna need it when I cut myself loose.”

Daniel did almost lose his grip then. “What?! Jack, you can’t do that! Let me—let me get anchored in and I can pull you up!”

He began scrabbling at the wall of the crevasse they were hanging over with his feet, trying to get a grip with his crampons. It seemed futile, and he even felt himself slide a bit further over the edge with the movement. But he didn’t stop until Jack yelled at him to.

“Daniel, stop it!” he snapped. “You’re only about two feet from falling in here yourself, and if we all go down, there won’t be anybody to raise the alarm!”

“Colonel…”

“It won’t be that bad, Carter,” he told her, and Daniel could hear the hint of false bravado. “I can see the bottom; it’s not that far. I’ve fallen a lot farther than this.”

Daniel couldn’t tell if Jack was lying or not. Knowing him, it was probably all half-truths.

“Surviving a fall from a plane because your parachute failed to deploy is not an acceptable measure of risk, sir.” Sam’s words were clipped, edges sharp enough to use as a pick on the ice around them.

“It’s only about, say, a ten meter drop,” Jack said, no doubt in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. “No more than that. And it looks snowy down there. It’ll be like landing on a pillow.”

Now Daniel knew Jack was lying; snow wasn’t that soft. He wished he see Jack so he could argue with him face to face. He might have a better chance then.

“Jack—”

“Sir—”

“This is not a debate, people,” Jack tersely cut them off. “I got us into this and I’ll get us out.” He took a breath, and when he spoke again his tone was calmer. “Daniel, as soon as I’m clear, try to pull Carter up. Carter, if that doesn’t work, see if you can get attached to the wall to climb out.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam’s voice was subdued, but Daniel could hear the vein of anger running through it.

“Jack—” he tried again.

“Brace yourself, Daniel. There’ll be a jolt when I cut the line. Don’t lose your grip.”

And that was the only warning he gave. Daniel could hear a second or two of sawing, then something between a pop and a rip as Jack’s rope gave way and he fell. The pressure on his arms and back decreased significantly, to the point that he rose over the ledge about an inch, and he felt Sam lightly bouncing below him. There was no sound of impact, no thud or crack, and Daniel almost believed they had gotten lucky.

“Sir?” Sam called out.

For a moment, there was silence, and Daniel’s heart skipped a beat. “Jack!”

“I’m fine,” Jack finally responded. He sounded more annoyed than anything. “I’m down.”

“What exactly does ‘fine’ mean in this particular situation?” Daniel yelled.

Jack seemed to hesitate before replying. “A few broken bones?”

“Which bones, sir?” Sam sounded as though she were torn between worry and exasperation.

“Definitely the leg, maybe the other ankle? Could be—yeah, no, definitely at least a rib or two. I think I landed on a rock.”

“Damn it, Jack!”

“Shut up, Daniel. Get Carter up and go dial home.”

“When you’re healed, remind me to punch you,” Daniel called.

“I’ll pencil it in.”

Daniel huffed and then began trying to pull himself up again. He could actually move a little without Jack’s added weight, but from the position he was in, there was no way he would be able to deadlift both himself and Sam. He took a break, dropping his sweaty, chilled face against his trembling arms. If he was going to keep doing this risking his life thing, he needed to exercise more.

“Sam, I don’t think I’m going to be able to get you up.” He hated himself for even having to say it.

“That’s okay, Daniel. Let me see if I can get to the wall. I’m going to have to swing a little, so hold on.”

“Holding on,” Daniel responded with a faint laugh.

He felt Sam’s swaying increase and tensed his body as the motion rocked him. There was the sound of scratching, accompanied by some grunts. The fact that the rope was still moving told him Sam hadn’t yet gotten any kind of grip on the wall.

“Working on it,” she called out.

“You’re good.”

As he waited, halfway hanging over the void, Daniel began to pick up an indistinct noise. He raised his head, frowning, to look over his shoulder. Was that Sam? As he listened, the noise coalesced into a steady shushing sound and Daniel could tell it was not coming from the crevasse below him. He looked around and his stomach dropped when he saw what was making it.

The sled.

He’d completely forgotten that it was still attached to him. Jack and Sam’s free fall hadn’t just dragged him along for the ride; he’d also dragged the sled. From his vantage point, he could tell that final few yards leading to the crevasse had a steeper angle of descent than those above them. It looked like their initial slide had pulled the sled just to the edge of that drop and left the front part dangling over it. As Daniel had moved—first to try to pull both his teammates up, then just Sam—he must have tugged at the sled just enough to teeter it over the edge.

And now it was coming at them, and picking up speed.

“Sam! Sam, hurry!”

“What is it, Daniel?” Her voice reflected his own panic.

“It’s the sled, the damn sled! It’s still attached to me and it’s sliding toward us!”

He heard Sam’s hissed “shit” and felt her movements become more frantic.

“Daniel, there’s no way I can get attached to the wall in time! I’m going to have to cut my rope so you can get up and stop it!”

“No! You’re even higher up than Jack!”

“There’s no time!” Sam yelled back.

Daniel could tell she was right. The sled was only feet away now.

“Sam, wait—” he called out, for some reason concerned that she would needlessly cut her rope. But just then the sled shot past him, over the edge, and plummeted.

There was a moment when he could picture Sam watching in stunned slow motion as the sled fell past her. Then the line connecting him to the sled jerk taut and Daniel was ripped off the ledge.

He managed to hold onto his axes, somehow, a feat that would be crucial later. Now that he was in the crevasse, he glanced down to see Sam falling a few feet below him and to his left. The sled was doing the same off to his right. His last thought before everything went black was that he hoped they all managed to avoid landing on Jack.


-000000-


Daniel woke to the sensation of snow falling on his face.

He cracked open his eyes, squinting at the crooked line of brightness high above him. It took him a moment to realize it was the opening to the crevasse, now some sixty plus feet above. Absently, he wondered what parts of him were broken. He didn’t feel any pain, and his heart jumped as the thought crossed his mind that he was paralyzed. But he wiggled his toes and could feel them moving in his boots. He could also feel how cold they were. He sighed in relief and very cautiously sat up.

He’d expected dizziness, possibly a concussion, but the world didn’t so much as quiver as he made it upright. He removed his helmet and peeled off the knit cap he wore beneath it. Pulling off his mittens so that he was left with just the thin gloves that served as a base layer, he searched his skull for any signs of damage. There were no tender spots, and his gloves came away clean of blood. Score one for safety equipment. His vision was clear, he had no nausea, and he didn’t feel lethargic or confused. No concussion then.

Something had to be wrong, though. No one fell that far and walked away unscathed. That didn’t happen. So he did a quick physical inventory. Neck moved easily with no pain. Hands, arms, shoulders—all tender from holding himself at the crevasse’s edge, but otherwise in good working order.

Ah, there: his right side felt sore. Not badly enough for anything to be broken, and his breathing didn’t seem affected, but at the very least he was bruised. Upper body survey done, he got his feet under him and stood.

Once mostly upright but still in a hunched over position, arms held out to his side in case he collapsed, he paused. Nothing, no sudden pain. He straightened entirely. Still fine. He gently twisted from side to side, but though his back was clearly tender, it gave no indications of injuries. Neither did either leg.

For a few moments, Daniel just stood there at the bottom of the crevasse, dumbfounded, frowning into space. He glanced up at the crevasse opening again. There was no way he’d fallen that far and not gotten hurt. There was no way.

Had he died? Was he dead? He pinched himself as best he could through all the layers. Nope, that hurt. Definitely not dead.

Studying the area around him, he thought he found the answer for his miraculous survival. Behind him there was an exceptionally large snowdrift. At its peak, it was over twice his height, and he could see something like a drag mark coming down from the top and leading to where he now stood. He must have landed on the drift and rolled down it, dispersing the momentum of his fall. As he couldn’t remember hitting the ground, chances were that he’d passed out before impact, and the resulting limpness of his body had helped protect him. That was the only thing that could explain why he was barely injured instead of completely dead.

Then he was snatched out of his introspection by the memory: Jack was hurt. And what about Sam?

Daniel pivoted in place, looking around the crevasse. It was wider at the bottom than he’d anticipated from the top, with great banks of snow piled here and there. He spotted the sled nearby and made his way to it. Somehow it was intact, having landed bottom up. Daniel realized he was still tied to the sled and to Sam, and he started unclipping the ropes. Just as he was finishing, he heard Jack’s voice.

“Daniel?”

“Jack!”

Daniel followed Jack’s voice until he located him behind a snowdrift a few yards away from the sled. He allowed himself a moment’s relief that they had managed not to fall on him after all. Jack was in a bad enough way as it was, face tight with pain. He’d removed his helmet and propped himself into a halfway upright position, both legs out in front of him. He was breathing just a little more quickly than normal, face pale.

“Jack, are you okay?”

“Ah, just great. What are a few broken bones between friends,” he quipped. He looked Daniel over. “Saw you fall, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Daniel replied, the surprise evident in his tone.

Jack blinked at him. “You’re fine.”

“Yeah, some bruises, but nothing broken. I don’t even think I have a concussion. It looks like I rolled down a snowdrift,” he explained, pointing back toward it.

Jack stared him for a minute. “You lucky bastard,” he finally said, but there was no anger in the words. If anything, he sounded relieved. “Carter?”

“Haven’t found her yet,” Daniel told him. “Hang tight.”

“Nothing else I’d rather do,” Jack said lightly as Daniel turned away.

Sam was about the same distance from the sled as Jack, but in the opposite direction. She was lying on her back in the snow, so still that Daniel panicked until he was able to find her pulse. It was slow, but strong and steady, and he let out a sigh of relief. He gently shook her shoulder.

“Sam? Sam, wake up.”

She didn’t respond, and Daniel felt anxiety tighten his chest. He carefully removed her helmet and completed the same checks on her that he’d done on himself. Her helmet had performed its job, too, and there was no obvious sign of damage to her skull. But when he checked the helmet itself, he found a large dent in the back of it. He tried to wake Sam again.

“Sam? Sam, you need to wake up. Look at me, Sam.”

She stirred this time, moaning softly. When she tried to sit up, Daniel stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, Sam. Hold on. Give it a second.”

Sam blinked up at him, eyes glazed and unable to focus. Daniel bit back an oath. She was definitely concussed. The helmet might have protected her skull, but her brain had still gotten banged around.

“Daniel?” she asked, confusion evident in her tone. Her speech was slow, but not slurred, and Daniel allowed himself that small victory. A concussion, but not as bad as things could be.

“Hey, looks like you must have hit your head,” he told her. “Does anything else hurt?”

She was still frowning at him as though his image wouldn’t hold still. She blinked a few times and he was pleased to see that while her gaze was still a bit hazy, she managed to focus on him, her eyes locking with his. He could see the slight movements of her limbs as she checked herself for injuries. When she moved her right arm, she suddenly flinched, letting out a hiss of pain.

“Okay, arm. Anything else?”

She started to shake her head but quickly stopped herself. “No,” she replied. “A lot is sore, but the arm’s the worst.”

There might be internal injuries, but Daniel wasn’t in a position to check for those, even if they were the types that would have symptoms he knew how to identify. So he took Sam at her word.

“Alright, let’s sit you up then.”

Daniel inched his hand under Sam’s shoulder, giving her his other hand to grasp with her good one. Together, they slowly brought her into a sitting position. They paused there, Daniel assessing her reaction to the movement to get a better idea of just how bad her concussion was, and Sam adjusting to the spinning of the world. She was clearly very dizzy, but when he asked if she felt sick, she said no. He thought she might be lying, though, and was proven right when a few seconds later she turned away from him and vomited into the snow.

She groaned as she sat back up. “Damn it. I hate concussions.”

“Yeah, you really have to stop hitting your head.”

She gave him a weak glare, her steadying gaze raking him from head to foot. “How are you fine?”

“I—I don’t know,” he admitted. “Jack called me a lucky bastard.”

“He’s right,” Sam agreed. She looked around. “Where is he? Is he bad?”

“I think the two of you can flip a coin for who has it the worst.”

“I hate you so much right now.”

“You sound like you’re feeling better.”

“Throwing up the first time always seems to help,” she told him, tone only slightly sarcastic. “Help me up.”

“Maybe you should wait a bit longer—”

“I just want you to help me over to wherever the Colonel is,” she said. “We can’t plan when we’re all separated, and he’s not mobile.”

Daniel was still skeptical, but helped Sam get to her feet. After a few false starts, and one additional pause for Sam to be sick, they made it back to Jack. By then, Sam was sweating and shaking slightly. Daniel got her situated near Jack, then pulled off his pack to start going through supplies.

“Hi, Carter.”

“Hey, sir.”

“We’ve gotta stop doing this.”

“Doing what in particular, sir?”

“Almost dying, for a start.”

“Agreed.”

Daniel snorted a laugh as he inventoried the med kit he’d had in his pack. He went to retrieve Sam’s, which he’d peeled off of her before they made their way over to Jack.

“It’s kind of like Antarctica again, isn’t it?” He heard Jack say.

“A bit, sir.”

Jack looked over as Daniel returned with Sam’s bag and pulled out her med kit, too.

“Except Daniel’s here.”

“Sorry to ruin the mood,” Daniel said with a roll of his eyes.

There was a moment of oddly awkward silence, and Daniel glanced up, looking between Jack and Sam, who were avoiding each other’s gaze.

“No, no, the more the merrier,” Jack said lightly.

Daniel narrowed his eyes at him, but then Jack grimaced as he shifted around, and Daniel returned his focus to his momentary role as a different kind of doctor.

“Okay, we have enough supplies here for basic care, and more on the sled,” he told them, tossing a thumb over his shoulder, “so long as they didn’t get damaged. Who’s first?”

“Carter—”

“The colonel—”

“Carter first, that’s an order.”

Daniel gave Jack an unimpressed look as he handed him a canteen and some pain relievers. “I’m going to assume that was an order for Sam to suck it up and accept being first and not an order for me to treat her first.”

“Both, but at least Sam will listen.”

“Yeah, but for the record, neither of us is happy about it,” Daniel said as he moved over to Sam.

“I’ll make a note in my report.”

Daniel wasn’t entirely sure whether Sam’s arm was broken or not, but he decided treating it that way was probably the best course of action. It took a bit of effort and a bit of profanity to get Sam out of her coat and various layers, but eventually Daniel was able to splint her arm. After helping her back into her clothes, he left her with her canteen and returned to Jack.

“Your turn.”

“Yay.”

Daniel knelt in the snow at Jack’s feet and raised his eyebrows at him. “Both legs, right?”

“Right ankle, left lower leg,” Jack clarified.

“Preference for where you want me to start?”

“Leave the right one alone.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s the ankle, Daniel,” Jack said.

Daniel stared at him in confusion. “So what?”

“His foot’s probably already swollen, Daniel.” Sam speech was a bit slow, as if the words were taking their time forming in her mind, but her voice was clear. “If you try to take off his boot, you won’t be able to get it back on. He’ll just wind up getting frostbite.”

“I’d rather not lose toes,” Jack grumbled.

“But what if it’s broken? What if you’re bleeding?” Daniel argued.

“The compression from the boot will actually help with the bleeding, and it’s cold enough here that we probably won’t bleed as quickly anyway.” Sam weakly waved at hand to encompass their surroundings.

“Leaving the boot on will help with stability if its broken, too,” Jack added. “Better than any splint you could throw together, anyway.”

“I’ll try not to take offense at your obvious lack of belief in my doctor skills,” Daniel said in mock indignation.

“Archaeology doctor? Absolutely, none better. Medical doctor? Iffy at best.”

“Be that as it may, I still need to check your other leg.”

“I know. I was trying to distract you.”

“Let’s just get it over with, huh? Then I can try to find us a way out of here.”

“Fine.”

As carefully as he could, Daniel rolled up Jack’s pant leg. He’d only gotten it an inch or so above the boot when Jack groaned in pain. Daniel looked up at him and saw that he’d put one hand over his face. Knowing it was only going to get worse, Daniel kept going. Once the pant leg was up high enough, he started peeling up the thermal layer underneath. Despite the temperature, Jack didn’t react at all to the frigid air hitting his bare skin, and Daniel knew it was because the pain from the fracture was blocking out all other sensations.

Thermal layer up, Daniel could inspect the damage. The skin just above mid shin was broken by a small opening, no wider than a dime and with a surprisingly small amount of blood. But Daniel could still see the bone. He had to take a minute to collect himself, his stomach rolling over as his brain registered what he was seeing.

He sensed Sam appear beside him. He glanced up to find her studying Jack’s leg with studied detachment.

“Another compound fracture, sir. Not too bad this time.”

“One more and I think I’ll have the base record,” Jack joked.

“Who’s got it now?” Daniel asked.

“Siler,” Jack and Sam replied in unison.

“Ah, makes sense.”

“We’re going to have to set it, sir.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.” Jack lifted his hand from his face to glare at them from under it. “See, I told you this was like Antarctica. I’m having flashbacks, Carter. Painful flashbacks.”

Sam gave him an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, sir.”

“You said that last time.”

“I meant it then, too, sir.”

Jack sighed and put his hand back over his eyes. “I know.” He waved his free hand in their direction. “Just, get it over with.”

Though Daniel had rudimentary skills in field medicine, he’d never had to set a bone before. Which, when he thought about everything SG-1 got into, was more surprising than not. But Sam guided him through what to do, helping where she could with her free hand. Once they had the splint laid out on either side of Jack’s leg, it was time to actually set the bone. Daniel got up on his knees and braced his hands around the break as Sam instructed him to.

“Ready, Jack?”

“No. But go ahead.”

“Okay.”

As soon as he said it, Daniel pushed. He felt the wet crunch of the bone moving as much as he heard it, and suppressed a shudder as Jack howled in pain.

“What ever happened to having a countdown?!” Jack yelled.

“Sorry,” Daniel panted. “That was more for me so I didn’t chicken out while I counted.”

“Fantastic.” The words were pushed through gritted teeth as Jack banged his head against the ground beneath him. “So happy it worked for you.”

With Sam’s help, Daniel got the splint on Jack’s leg. By the end, all three of them were short of breath and sweating. Jack’s thermals wouldn’t fit back over the splint, but Daniel rolled his pant leg back down and handed him another packet of pain relievers. Then Daniel fell onto his back and closed his eyes, exhausted.

Sam had stepped away to throw up again, and Jack watched her return through troubled, pain-filled eyes.

“Another one?” he asked, not needing to clarify what he meant.

“Already bypassed Siler on this count, sir,” she told him with a rueful smile.

“We gotta stop damaging your brain, Carter. It’s too important.” Jack sounded regretful, and a little angry.

“I’ll be fine, sir. It’s not that bad.”

“How many times have you been sick?”

Sam didn’t answer, turning away from his scrutiny.

“Daniel, how many times?”

“That was three.”

“Not so bad my ass,” Jack grumbled. “Daniel, you’ve got to get the hell out of here and go get help.”

Daniel sat up and took off his glasses to rub a hand across his face. “Yeah, I know.” He replaced his glasses, then looked up at the crevasse opening. “I don’t think I can go that way, though.”

“Where the hell else are you going to go?”

“I think this is, or used to be, a river bed,” Daniel told him, pointing around the crevasse. While the top half or so was solid snow and ice, the bottom part was rocky ground. “Maybe I can follow it down to the city and then climb back up over the snow to the Gate.”

Both Sam and Jack were looking at him in concern.

“That’s not a good idea, Daniel,” Sam warned him.

“Why not?”

“There’s no guarantee you’ll be able to find a way out that way,” Jack said. “You could wander for miles and wind up lost, or you could only go a few hundred feet and the crevasse narrow to the point that you can’t squeeze through.”

“Since we’ve seen it from the top, we know at least the visible parts are also covered by a thick layer of snow,” Sam added. “If that were to collapse while you were under it, you could be buried alive.”

“Along with our chances to get out of here,” Jack reminded him.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Daniel snapped in frustration. “I can’t climb out of here. I know you brought climbing gear, Jack, but I don’t know how to use any of it, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Sam was looking at Jack in doubt now, too. “And neither one of us could belay, him, sir. He doesn’t know how to do a solo climb, and those are dangerous even for trained climbers.”

Daniel suddenly had a realization. “Wait—our first check-in is supposed to be at 0800 tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“So I can go explore the crevasse, see how far I can get, while you two camp out here and wait for the SGC to dial in. You can tell them via radio what’s happened and they can send help.”

“It won’t work, Daniel,” Sam said, shaking her head before stopping herself with a groan.

“The signals probably won’t be able to reach us down here,” Jack added. “We’re too far down.”

“Of course we are.” Daniel sighed and adjusted his knit cap lower over his ears. “Can’t we have just one simple mission? Is that too much to ask?”

“Apparently.”

“Y’know what, fine,” Daniel spat, launching himself to his feet. “Fine.” He stalked back to the overturned sled.

“Daniel, what are you doing?” Jack called.

“Getting us out of this mess!” Daniel yelled back.

He grabbed the edge of the sled and tried to pull it back upright. He managed to lift it a few inches, but couldn’t get it any further with the gear still attached to it. Digging in a pocket, he pulled out his knife and started sawing at the lashings holding the gear in place. The ropes let go with satisfying pops and as soon as they were all clear, he hefted the sled upright.

It was in surprisingly good shape for the fall it had endured, and he wondered darkly if sleds could be lucky bastards, too. He hoped at least some of the gear had survived intact as well, and he started rummaging through the bags and boxes. There was some damage, but more than enough that was worth scavenging. Daniel dragged a tent, sleeping bags and blankets, sternos and fuel, and a box of food and water over to Sam and Jack.

“Sam, I’m going to need the area where you’re sitting,” he told her. She was on the flattest bit of space available.

She obligingly crawled over to sit by Jack’s feet, a bemused expression on her face. Daniel pulled out the tent and started piecing it together.

“Daniel, we don’t need to set up camp,” Jack said. “We just need you to get topside.”

“You’re injured, it’s already late afternoon, it’s snowing, and the temperature is well below freezing.” Daniel irritably rattled off the list of facts as he fought with the tent poles. “So yes, you do need a camp.”

He subdued the tent with a minimal amount of cursing, which he resorted to in Russian as it seemed appropriate for the frozen setting. He laid insulating blankets in a thermal layer on the floor of the tent, then added the sleeping bags on top. Then he put the box of food just outside the door on one side, and the box of sternos and fuel outside on the other.

“Jack, we need to move you inside the tent now, while Sam still has the energy to help,” Daniel told him. “I won’t be able to move you on my own.”

“What if I don’t want to move?” Jack said, just a touch petulantly. “I’ve already got this patch of snow warmed up.”

“Stop being an ass.”

“Sorry.” Jack sighed. “This is going to suck.”

“Yup. Sorry.”

Daniel got behind him, hooking Jack under the armpits. Sam knelt with Jack on her uninjured side and, with a little trial and error, looped her arm around his knees so that she could carry his legs as best she was able. It wasn’t the most graceful of maneuvers, but it was the best they could do with the present combination of injuries. After several minutes of profanity and a chorus of hisses, groans, and yelps from Jack and Sam as they inched backwards toward the tent, they landed into a good rhythm and Daniel practically ran the last few feet. Before any of them could stop, he ducked through the tent, pulling Jack with him, and landed on his back with Jack against his chest. His bruised ribs screamed at the contact, but it was a whisper compared to the cry of pain Jack let out.

“Ow! Gah, son of a bitch! Ahhh, damn it!”

Jack was rigid in agony as Daniel eased out from underneath him.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. I figured it was just better to do it all in one fell swoop,” Daniel apologized.

“No, you’re right, it’s fine, it just—god damn it, that hurt!” Jack took a deep breath and his body relaxed a little. “I was so happy on my frozen pile of snow,” he groused.

“I know.” Daniel patted his shoulder. “But I can’t let you freeze to death. Teal’c would never let me hear the end of it.”

Jack gave Daniel a solemn look. “He would be severely disappointed in you.”

Daniel nodded gravely. “He would give me that look, the one with a slight frown and the faintest lift of one eyebrow.”

“You’d never recover.”

They both chuckled, then broke into simultaneous coughs as their respective ribs protested the motion.

Sam face appeared in the tent opening. “We’ve still gotta get your feet in, sir.”

Jack looked down where they could see that he was only inside up to ankles. He swallowed, a flash of fear crossing his face.

“I think we can leave them out there for now, Carter.”

“Jack,” Daniel said in warning.

“Okay, okay, fine.”

Jack sat up onto his elbows, and used them to inch himself the rest of the way back into the test, jaw clenched the entire time. As soon as he was all the way in, he collapsed, chest heaving.

Daniel ducked back outside and grabbed Jack’s canteen. Sam handed him Jack’s pack, and Daniel helped Jack sit up so that he could put it behind him as a sort of pillow. Once Jack was as comfortable as he could be, Daniel crawled back outside.

Sam was sitting on a rock, looking utterly spent. Her eyes had cleared since Daniel first woke her, but they were starting to get a dreamy, distant look in them. He walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped just a little and looked up at him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“What now?”

The fact that she was asking him brought home to Daniel just how much she was drifting. He couldn’t do much about that, though, except try to keep her engaged. And he hoped she could stay engaged, because he needed her.

“Now you’re going to tell me how to climb out of here.”

Most of the focus came back in her gaze then as she locked eyes with him, frowning. “What?” She seemed to fully process what he had said a split second later, like her brain was on a time delay, and fear crept into her face. “No, Daniel! No.”

“I’ve got to get out of here, and both you and Jack said I couldn’t do it following the crevasse. So I’m going to have to climb.”

“Daniel, there is no way you can climb out of here.” She held up a hand to stop his protest, and he could see the physical and mental effort it was taking for her to speak. “I have training, and I wouldn’t attempt this even if I could. Ice climbing is very dangerous, even with proper training. And solo climbing is something only elite climbers do. You don’t have the training, you won’t have the support you’d need, and it’s going to be dark soon. Not even experienced climbers would climb in the dark unless they absolutely had to.”

“Why do you think I’m going to do it?”

“No, Daniel. I’m not going to show you how to kill yourself!”

He studied her for a moment. “You know I’ll just try to do it anyway, without any instructions you could give me.”

“The hell you will,” she said, fire in her tone. “I’ll fight you.”

He gave her a once over, eyes lingering on her splinted right arm. “You’re injured.”

“I have a wicked left hook, Daniel, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“You can barely stand up!”

“I’ll still knock you down.”

“That’s not fair. I can’t fight back when you’ve got a concussion.”

“I’m injured and you’re trying to kill yourself,” she told him, looking a little woozy. “I’m not interested in fighting fair.”

He stood tensed, staring her down, trying to think of any good argument he could use. But she knew the situation as well as he did—was one of the ones who actually needed aid—and if she was telling him not to risk it, what could he say otherwise? He’d have to find another way. And he’d have to keep it from her.

He slumped in defeat, as much for show as anything. “Fine. We should probably eat dinner, then. Jack’s got two doses of pain killers on an empty stomach.”

Sam relaxed, wrinkling her nose. “Not sure if I could stomach anything.”

“You try first, and if you can’t, I’ll eat your MRE, deal?”

“Deal.”

He helped her back over to the tent, internally debating what he was going to do. After she had gingerly sat down by the tent opening, Daniel pulled out a stove and started listing the MREs they had packed. Jack took a Salisbury steak, while Sam decided to try a roast beef dinner. Daniel got Jack’s meal set up on the sterno, then told Sam to watch it while he checked the sled for more supplies.

In reality, he was loading up his pack. He’d decided that once Jack and Sam were asleep, he was going to try to follow the crevasse out. It was the only option he had. He added another two coils of rope to the ones already in his pack, along with some energy bars and an extra canteen of water. He already had a flashlight, but he knew there was an additional one along with extra batteries in one of the boxes that had been on the sled. He found it, and put some of the extra batteries in his pack. He tucked his ice axes in the front pocket, then set the pack behind a rock, out of sight of the tent. Then he rejoined Sam and Jack.

Jack was already eating when he returned, and Sam’s meal was almost ready. She was able to eat about half of it before she passed the remainder to Daniel. He took it with an understanding smile.

“Why don’t you go in and lie down for a while,” he told her. “You need to rest.”

“I shouldn’t stay asleep,” she reminded him in a sleepy mumble. “Someone should watch me.”

“You’ve got Jack and me, it’ll be fine.” Daniel didn’t even flinch at the lie. He knew Jack would fall asleep, too, and he wasn’t staying. He almost felt guilty, but getting help was more important than watching the two of the sleep.

But Sam just nodded gratefully and crawled inside the tent. Jack passed the detritus of his meal out to Daniel, and Daniel took it before zipping the tent halfway shut. Then he went to sit a little ways away, purposefully giving them space and quiet.

After an anxious fifteen minutes, he crept to the tent opening and peeked inside. Sam was curled on her side in her sleeping bag, the faint line of a frown between her eyebrows. Jack had pulled a thermal blanket over himself in lieu of being able to crawl inside his own bag, and was dead to the world, snoring ever so slightly. Daniel looked between them for a minute or two, gathering himself and very much not saying a silent goodbye, before he crept back to his pack. Pulling it on, he oriented himself toward what he guessed was the downhill slope of the crevasse and started walking.


-000000-


Progress wasn’t as fast as Daniel would have liked it to be. He had to navigate his way around snowdrifts, and the slippery, rocky ground underneath them could be treacherous. The last thing he needed was to slip and sprain an ankle—or break something—so he forced himself to take his time.

He was sure he was right that the crevasse had been formed by a river. In places where the ground beneath him was clear of snow, he could see that he was walking on ice that appeared to be a few feet thick. It had to be a frozen waterway. Which meant it was likely that there was a bridge of some sort spanning the crevasse, allowing passage between the Gate and the valley city. Or at least there had been.

Daniel kept his eyes peeled for any ruins at the bottom of the crevasse, or the shadow of a bridge above it. He was only a little surprised when he actually found what he was looking for. Dusk had started to fall, so the crevasse itself was rapidly getting dark. But when Daniel looked up at one point, he could see a darker line against the dull white of the snow covering the crevasse opening. Stopping, he dug his flashlight and a headlamp out of his pack. He needed them, anyway, and he wanted to see if he’d found the bridge. Donning the headlamp, he shined the higher-powered flashlight at the ceiling. It only barely illuminated what he was seeing, but it was enough for Daniel to tell that there was a manmade structure above him. Definitely a bridge.

Proving his theory didn’t help him out of his current situation, but it was still satisfying. He wished they’d happened to be over the bridge when they got to the span; if it could hold up all the snow above it, it probably would have been able to support them.

Sighing, he continued on his way. He’d turned the flashlight back off to preserve its batteries, but once he almost tripped over a rock, he turned it back on. He couldn’t stop for the night, but he also couldn’t risk injury. With just the flashlight to light his way, he had to slow down even further. But he kept moving, determined that he would either find a way out or turn back if he reached the point where he couldn’t go any further.

He’d been walking for over an hour when something ahead of him glistened in the flashlight beam. As he got closer, he could see that the end of the crevasse was entirely blocked by a wall of ice and snow.

“Damn it!”

He just managed to stop himself from chucking his flashlight at the wall. Taking a deep breath, he slid his fingers under his glasses and rubbed his aching eyes. He would just have to turn around and try the other direction from their camp. Hopefully Jack and Sam would still be asleep when he returned, and he could sneak past them and keep going.

He was about to turn back when something made him stop. He decided to check out the blockage first. Maybe there was a way around. Or maybe there was a way up.

As he got closer, he could see that the wall was more ice than snow, a thick sheet of it—like what he had been walking on—that just had snow on top of it. From the shadows his flashlight cast as it moved over the surface, he could tell what he thought was a wall was more like an undulating cascade. Suddenly he realized that he hadn’t been going downstream with the river, but upstream. This was a waterfall.

He scrambled closer, aiming his flashlight at the roof at the top of the falls. It was solid snow, like it had been the whole way. But if he could get up there, he could dig his way out. And, he noticed, he was closer to the surface than he had been when he started out. He must have been moving uphill without realizing it. He was only about forty feet down now. Not a huge improvement when it came to falling, but he would take every foot he could get.

Excited, he started studying the shape of the frozen river, looking for the best way up. Luckily, these falls were formed by more gradual tumbling over rocks, rather than a precipitous plunge from a ledge. As such, the upward progress over them would be pretty simple, as much as climbing up a frozen waterfall could be.

Daniel picked a route that would lead him up the falls on the Gate side of the crevasse, deciding ease of exit was preferable over anything else. He checked that his crampons were still on snugly and retrieved his ice axes from his pack. As he replaced his flashlight in the pack, he remembered that he’d left his helmet back at camp. He would just have to hope he didn’t fall. Again.

Turning on his headlamp, he let his eyes readjust, relocated his route, and started climbing.

Getting over the lower rapids was easy. They were shallow swells, almost flat at the top, with enough snowpack on top of them that Daniel didn’t slip around. But as he got higher, the hills of ice got higher and steeper, and the amount of snow of them less and less. As he dug his crampons into the ice and used the ice axes to pull himself up another steep incline, he sent Jack a silent thank you for making them bring the climbing gear.

Two-thirds of the way up, he paused in the dip between one frozen rapid and the next to rest. His upper body had already been wrecked from trying to halt their tumble into the crevasse, and having to bodily haul himself up the falls wasn’t helping. His arms shook so badly as he lifted his canteen to take a drink that he could hear the water sloshing inside. Whatever he’d done to his side when he fell, it was throbbing with pain now, and he found himself breathing more shallowly to try to avoid aggravating it, without success. On top of that, his legs were burning. He was having to use as much lower body as upper body strength to climb the waterfall, and the lack of rest and food were rapidly wearing down his muscles.

He pulled out one of the energy bars he’d packed and scarfed it down. He barely tasted it, focused instead on the last bit of his climb. It was going to be dangerous; only three more rapids stood between him and the surface, and they were the longest and steepest of them all.

Taking a deep breath, he shrugged his pack back on, rechecked his crampons, and resumed climbing. With the steeper incline of the rapid, he had to drive his axe deeply into the ice to ensure a good hold, and he grunted with the effort of every swing. He inched up the wall, embedding one axe, then pulling himself up with it, digging one crampon into the ice to hold that position, then lifting the other to join it, then starting again with the other axe.

He’d settled into that mindless rhythm, focusing all his mental energy just on moving, when he fell. The grip on one of his crampons gave way just as he pulled an axe out of ice, and he shot downward, landing hard at the bottom of the rapid he’d been on. The impact knocked the breath out of him, and he lay still for a moment, wheezing.

He almost didn’t want to check for injuries, sure even the thought of having one would manifest itself in reality. But he was going to have to do it sooner or later and time was of the essence, so he picked sooner. Since he’d slid down the falls more than fell, the force of him hitting the ice below him hadn’t been as bad as it could have been. Still, he could tell that his right shoulder and knee had been banged about a bit. Cautious testing showed that they still worked with only minor twinges, but he was not looking forward to what they would feel like once he stopped moving for a while.

Not giving in to his body’s pleas for rest, Daniel struggled back to his feet and stared up at the snow roof. He was so close now. Gritting his teeth, he reached up and drove his axe back into the ice and started to climb again.

He got to the top without further incident and paused to catch his breath. The snow pack was only an inch above his head, and he began to tentatively burrow through it. He kept right up next to the falls, both with the intention of using them to climb out and so that he could lean against them and give his trembling body a little bit of support.

It turned out the falls entered the crevasse from the foot of a mountain, and because the falls were in a kind of lee between two arms that came off the range, the snow hadn’t piled up as deeply there as it had further out in the open. Daniel only had to dig for about half an hour to get through, only having to climb further up the ice once to get to the remaining snow above him. He knocked open a hole big enough to climb through and then, groaning with the pain and effort, dragged himself into the open. As soon as he was waist-high above the snow, he threw himself over the lip of the crevasse and into the snow there. His lower legs were dangling in the hole he’d created, and he wearily used the ice axes he was still gripping to drag himself further onto solid land.

Once he felt safe, he rolled onto his back and lay there, chest heaving, every muscle in his body quivering from overexertion. He let out a weary laugh of accomplishment; he’d made it. His headlamp was still on, and he absently watched falling snowflakes dance through its beam, feeling like he was floating away from his body.

But he wasn’t done. Rolling back over, he shakily got onto all fours and looked back up the hill toward where the Gate was located. He had nearly two klicks to go, and it was going to be over the same terrain that had dropped them in the first place.

As much from exhaustion as a nod to safety, Daniel decided to crawl. His weight would be more evenly distributed that way, should he happen across any more crevasses. And he wasn’t entirely sure his legs would hold him at the moment, anyway. So he started crawling, keeping close to the mountain on his right, figuring the ground there might be more stable. And if there were any other river valleys to cross, he might spot the corresponding ice waterfall on the mountain first.

After crawling for what felt like half his life, Daniel remembered that the mountain chain he was following would at some point turn away from the Gate. He looked up, trying to spot any landmarks that looked familiar. He was dismayed to realize that he didn’t recognize anything. He sat up on his knees like a prairie dog, looking around him for the Gate. He even checked behind him, though he thought that it was highly unlikely he’d already passed it. When he still couldn’t see it, he pushed himself to his feet, locking his knees to stay standing.

There. Just up the hill to his left, he spotted the top of the Gate with his headlamp. He stumbled forward in that direction, dimly aware that his strength was rapidly fading.

Keep going, keep going, keep going.

The words repeated like a mantra in his head, following time with his pulse. He was almost there, he was so close, and yet the Gate didn’t seem to get closer. Until suddenly he almost stumbled over the MALP. If he hadn’t been so tired, he might have cried. He knew the DHD was just on the opposite side Gate, and he slid down the snow bank to the cleared space in front of the Gate to get to it. His legs gave way under him as he hit the ground in the space and he fell forward to crawl the rest of the way.

He pushed through the snow that had partially filled the area they’d cleared around the DHD and then used the DHD to pull himself upright. With shaky hands, he dialed home. His brain felt fuzzy, his reflexes slow, and it took him longer than it should have to locate the origin symbol he’d memorized so many hours before. But finally the Gate roared to life.

Daniel slid back down to the ground, unable to stand any longer, as the event horizon shimmered. He realized he didn’t have a GDO. Was there one in his pack? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t have the energy to look. Instead, he just called out.

“Help.”

It was barely a croak. The radio on the MALP crackled to life.

“This is the SGC. SG-1, is that you? Come in.” It was Sergeant Harriman. Daniel smiled faintly at the comfort of hearing a familiar voice.

“Help.” He was louder that time, and hoped it got picked up.

“SG-1, we can barely hear you, try again.”

Daniel took a deep breath and did all he could to yell. “We need help!” His ribs felt like they were on fire.

“Dr. Jackson? What’s happened? What do you need?” Walter’s tone was as efficient as ever, but Daniel could hear the concern underneath.

“We fell. Jack and Sam in a crevasse. I climbed out. Injured. Help.” It was all he could manage, but it was enough.

“We read you, Dr. Jackson.” Daniel felt relief overwhelm him; it was the general. “I’m sending a search and rescue medical team, along with SG-8. We’ll have you out of there in no time.”

Daniel fell back into the snow and closed his eyes. “Thank you.” It was whispered, but he knew the general heard it anyway.

His next conscious thought was of hands on his arms and legs. He was floating; no, he was being lifted on a backboard. A mask was being placed over his face but he clumsily batted it away.

“Jack. Sam,” he mumbled.

“It’s alright, Dr. Jackson.” An unfamiliar face leaned over his, wearing a reassuring expression. “We’ll find them. We need to get you back to the SGC.”

Daniel was slowly shaking his head. He was telling himself to get up, but his body wasn’t listening. “They’re in a crevasse. A bridge. I climbed the waterfall.”

There was a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We heard. SG-8’s looking for them now. Don’t worry, we’ll get them out.”

Daniel wanted to argue further, sure that he had to help. But his body gave out on him and he drifted back into the black to the sound of the Gate being dialed.


-000000-


Something was beeping. The sound was pulling Daniel into consciousness, and he was vaguely irritated about it. He closed his eyes tighter, trying to stay under, but it was no use.

Even before he opened his eyes, he knew he was in the infirmary. He was depressingly familiar with the smell surrounding him: the sharp bitterness of antiseptics, the faint tang of the lemon-scented cleaners used around the base, and an underlying coolness Daniel had always associated with surgical steel and that reminded him of mint.

He shifted, and could actually hear the stiff fabric of his blanket crinkling as it moved. His entire body ached, but the sensation was oddly muffled, as though his brain was registering that pain was happening without fully registering the pain itself. The liquid feeling in his head told him the disconnect was because he’d been given strong pain meds; they had a very distinctive effect on him. He sighed and opened his eyes.

He was facing the door, and internally he grumbled about not being given a better bed. Nobody ever wanted the Door Cot; it was uncomfortable being on display for anyone and everyone moving through the hallway.

If anybody had been watching him, Daniel wouldn’t have been able to tell who it was. He squinted and turned to his bedside table, blindly patting around until he found his glasses. Pulling them on, he surveyed the room. The lights were dim, so it must be during the strictly-scheduled infirmary night time. The beds to his right were empty, but Jack was to his left, with Sam in the cot next to Jack.

Sam was asleep, but Jack was propped up and watching him. Daniel couldn’t read his expression.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“So you searched the crevasse anyway, huh?” Jack said. “Despite my direct order not to?”

“You never ordered me not to,” Daniel countered. “You just said it was a bad idea.”

“The order was implied.”

“Good thing I’m not military.”

“For so many reasons.”

Daniel frowned at him. Jack shifted slightly, like he was trying to sit up higher, but stopped with a grimace. He met Daniel’s eyes again. The beeping was loud in the silence.

“Heard you climbed a waterfall. That can’t be right.”

“It’s not so hard after the first twenty feet or so.”

“And dug your way through seven feet of snow pack.”

“Was it only seven?”

“And crawled two kilometers to the Gate.”

“Well, it seemed safer. Also, I couldn’t really stand at the time, so…”

“Damn it, Daniel.” Jack sounded weary, and he dragged a hand across his face before looking back at Daniel. “I’m sorry.”

Daniel was honestly confused. “For what?”

“For… everything,” Jack said, gesturing vaguely. “We almost died—you almost died—and then you had to…” He trailed off, as if unable to voice it.

“And then I had to do what you or Sam would have done?”

Jack blinked at him.

“C’mon, Jack. This wasn’t your fault; it was an accident. And I did what I had to do. If you or Sam had been the lucky bastard this time around, you would have done the same.”

“Yeah, but you’re not…”

“Not military?”

“Yeah.”

“So what.” Daniel was too tired to be offended. “I’m still a member of SG-1. Saving each other’s asses is kind of what we do.”

“A lot.”

“Too much.”

“We should take it easy for a while.”

“Well, we will have to recuperate.”

“I hate recuperating.”

“I know.”

Daniel wondered how long they’d be off duty this time. He’d be fine within a few days, but Jack was going to take a few weeks, and Sam?

“How’s Sam?” He lifted his chin in her direction.

Jack tracked the motion, turning slightly to his left to look at his second in command before turning back to Daniel. “She’s going to be alright. Only a hairline fracture in her arm, and the same banged up ribs I think we all got.”

“And her concussion?”

“Grade 3, but low level.”

Daniel winced. “We have got to keep Sam’s brain from getting hurt.”

“I brought helmets!” Jack protested.

“Which was very smart, Jack. Otherwise I don’t think any of us would have brains left right now.”

Jack sighed. “If only Doc Fraiser understood we have Carter’s best interests at heart, too.” He turned to glare at Daniel. “You should’ve been awake; I had to face her wrath all alone.”

“Dr. Fraiser?”

“Well, she couldn’t exactly yell at Sam, so she took it out on me.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. But only because you climbed a damn waterfall.”

“It was kind of cool.”

“You should’ve gotten a picture.”

“I was too busy trying not to fall to my death. Again.”

“You didn’t die the first time.”

“Not from lack of trying.”

Jack muttered “lucky bastard” under his breath, and Daniel smiled. It quickly faded, though, as he thought back on events and guilt rose in him.

“Jack, I’m sorry.”

“For climbing a waterfall?”

“No, for—it’s my fault we fell.”

“How do you figure?”

“I let myself get distracted. I wasn’t paying attention to you and Sam like I should have been, and when you fell—I heard a crack, it must have been you breaking through the snow, but I thought it was gunfire, and I just stood there looking around like an idiot until I got yanked off my feet. You told me to sit down if something happened, to anchor myself; it was the one thing I had to do and I didn’t do it.”

“Daniel—”

“And then I forgot about the damn sled and if I hadn’t pulled it after us, Sam and I wouldn’t have fallen and we could’ve gotten out faster.”

“Daniel—”

“You and Sam got hurt because of me, because I didn’t pay attention and didn’t do the one thing you told me to do, so yes, I climbed a damn waterfall even though it felt like my arms were going to fall off, and if I’d thought I would’ve been able to, I would have just climbed the wall where we fell—”

“Daniel!”

It wasn’t a yell—they were still in the infirmary, after all—but Jack’s harsh half-whisper, half-shout worked and Daniel’s mouth snapped shut. He was breathing a little heavily, his heart racing. He and Jack stared each other down for a minute, Jack with a look of mingled concern and fondness, and Daniel feeling nothing but self-loathing.

“It was an accident; your words, remember?”

“Falling was, yeah, but I—”

“Ah! Ah!” Jack cut him off, raising a finger in warning. “It was an accident. We aren’t the first mountaineers to be defeated by the ice, and we won’t be the last. Thanks to your rather Herculean efforts, we at least got out alive.”

“Jack—”

“No, Daniel. You aren’t going to carry around guilt for this.”

Jack paused to give him a look filled with regret and self-recrimination before turning his attentions to pulling at a loose thread on one of his blankets. His voice was quiet when he continued.

“Y’know, despite everything, it’s easy for me to forget sometimes that you don’t have the training or experience Carter and I do. Or even Teal’c has, for that matter. You keep having things asked of you that you’ve never had to do before and you just keep doing them like they’re no big deal and you don’t seem to grasp how absolutely insane it is.” He met Daniel’s eyes again, then, and Daniel could see anger and sadness and pride in them. “You just solo-climbed a frozen waterfall without any rigging, Daniel.”

Daniel awkwardly shrugged and looked away, uncomfortable with the praise. “It wasn’t like it was a vertical climb or anything.”

“A goddamned waterfall, Daniel. You’d never even seen an ice axe or a crampon before I showed them to you while we geared up, and a few hours later you climbed a wall of ice by yourself without any safety lines to get Carter and me help.”

“I had to.”

“I know.” Jack sighed again and Daniel risked looking over at him. He just looked tired now, studying Daniel with a weary gaze. “It’s times like this I wish you were military.”

“Why?” Daniel asked, surprised.

“We don’t have appropriate awards for civilians who complete daring deeds during missions on other planets.”

“Oh.” Daniel made a show of adjusting his position on the cot so he wouldn’t have to look at Jack. “Wouldn’t make much difference, though.”

“And why is that?”

“Because if I were military, you would have court-martialed me long before now.”

“True.”

A thought occurred, and Daniel laughed faintly. “Maybe you need to create a special class of military honors for civilian SGC personnel,” he joked. “We have enough of them, and we certainly have enough things go wrong that they’re bound to do some daring deeds to save all our asses.”

He threw a smile Jack’s way, only to find Jack looking unexpectedly serious. There was a contemplative look in his eyes, and Daniel blinked at him.

“I was only joking, Jack.”

“I know.”

“You aren’t really going to—”

“I mean, you make a good point.”

“I usually do.”

“I may have to talk to Hammond about it.”

“Just don’t mention my name.”

“Now, see, that would be hard to do since I’d be putting you forward as the inaugural recipient.”

“‘For valor in hauling himself up a frozen sheet of water’?”

“I mean, that would have to get in line. We’d have to start with, oh, say, blowing up a Goa’uld mothership?”

“It was a joint effort.” Daniel yawned the last word and looked around for the infirmary clock before remembering that it was on the wall behind him. “Do you know what time it is?”

Dr. Fraiser’s voice answered him. “Time for you to be asleep.”

Daniel glanced around to see Janet emerging from her office. She walked toward him and Jack with a stern but kind expression.

“Both of you should be resting,” she gently reprimanded.

“We are resting,” Jack protested. “Laying down and everything.”

“You need sleep,” Janet said, as she lowered the head of Jack’s bed back to horizontal. “Your bodies have a lot of healing to do.”

“But—” Jack started.

“Don’t make me drug you.”

“I’m already drugged,” he countered, before adding, “Napoleonic power monger” under his breath. There was fondness in his tone, though, and he obediently wriggled down under his blankets and closed his eyes.

“You, too,” Janet told Daniel as she came over to lower his bed.

He gave her a sleepy smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once he was flat, he started to roll onto his side, but Janet stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to squint at her questioningly, but she just gently removed his glasses and set them on the beside table.

“Goodnight, Daniel,” she said, turning out the wall light above his bed.

“G’night,” he sleepily mumbled in response as she turned and walked back to her office. He was asleep before she disappeared back inside.