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10.67% Frances / Chapter 11: Out of the Blue

章 11: Out of the Blue

O'Neill was slumbering, overcome with pain medication that Sam provided. There wasn't much left; Stargate missions were not supposed to last for so long, but still. The Captain knew how much to give, at which interval, and how to administer the morphine doses. For an astrophysicist, she sure knew much about medicine. Frances drank in everything the blond woman had to say. A crash course of sorts. And while they worked at digging up the DHD, Carter spluttered knowledge here and there. Apparently, the Captain used her as the famous "plastic duck". Meaning that, by explaining her theories, even if Frances only understand half of it, helped her sort her thoughts. Too bad it had not led to any significant breakthrough.

Frances was frozen to the core, but so very impressed by the dedication and skill of the woman that faced her. Facing impossible odds, she kept going like a Duracell bunny. For her part, the young woman felt exhaustion creeping in fast. The cold numbed her senses, and she wondered how Carter's brain kept going. And what a brain, damn! The bits of knowledge she let fly, here and there, were enough for Frances to understand that she was barely scratching the surface. Underneath this blond skull, behind those wide blue eyes rested a well of knowledge. Not unlike Daniel Jackson, who apparently spoke 23 languages. Frances sighed, wiggling her fingers as they started going numb. Right. Only 19 more to learn, and she'd be able to give Dr Jackson a run for his money.

In the meantime, SGC

At the SGC, a frantic Mulder had been pacing for so long that he threatened to dig a trench in the command room. Frances was his charge! He was the one who promised her parents to keep her safe whenever she joined them on missions. And now, he faced the impossible task to tell them that he had lost her. Probably dead, somewhere, or disintegrated. But they would never know what had happened to their daughter.

His inside wrenched, the little food he'd managed to scarf down threatening to come back up. Mulder inhaled slowly, trying to reign his beating heart. Within their time in the X-Files, they'd come close pretty often to being eaten, killed, maimed or worse. They had always defeated the odds … but still. Never had they been separated like this. Well, only once, in Forks, but this Carlisle guy had found Frances and brought her back fast enough.

Two days now, and with every second that passed Frances' chances of survival dimmed. Dr Jackson and Teal'c knew it just as well, worried sick for their two teammates. Hopefully, Colonel O'Neill, Captain Carter and Frances were in together. Already, the remaining SG teams had visited two thirds of the planets that lay in the path between their original course and earth. To no avail. And despite his distress, Mulder was impressed by the team's quick thinking. Two more planets to visit, and that would be it. Needless to say, he didn't have much hope.

The door opened, and Scully strode in. The FBI agent didn't think twice, and engulfed her in a mighty hug. She was just as worried as he was – her light blue eyes simmered with unspoken grief - but kept her cool to keep him sane. The best partner ever. And even if it might seem unprofessional, he could only relish in the comfort of her arms around his tall frame. Just a moment to relax, and hope that everything would be all right.

A slight tremor, barely discernible, caused his head to jerk up. It was the third now. A little earthquake. A replica, maybe? His eyes lifted, finding a set of blue ones that seemed deep in thought. Then, Daniel Jackson sprang to his feet.

Three attempts now at powering the Stargate, all of them failing at the last moment. Despite Captain Carter's best efforts, the damn gate refused to power up.

Hope, this shiny ball of energy that had doused them after the Captain had managed to fix the DHD, was flying away fast. A bitter disappointment that Frances felt seeping through her bones. Despair was just around the corner.

Biting her tongue, the frozen woman considered the scene once more. Wide expense of ice, so clear, so beautiful… It was a fantastic place, reminding her of the "Ice sea" cave in the French Alps. A mighty glacier, majestuous and deadly. One that would probably engulf their dead bodies in its icy clutches for eternity.

Sharking her head aside, Frances sat beside the Colonel. Taking care of another's health made her feel better. It kept her sane. So she removed the last Mars bar she had saved for dire circumstances, and offered a piece to the Colonel with a smile.

— "Sugar is everybody's best friend, and it will help with the cold", she said.

Calling the Captain, the Colonel took the severed bar with a grateful nod. Soon, the three of them were munching on the piece of milk proteins, caramel and chocolate. Amazing, how a simple taste of candy could lift one's spirit. For a second or so. While they munched, Frances took to asking questions about explosives, dragging both the Captain and the Colonel into long explanations that distracted the three of them. To her shame, she knew nothing about bombs, and C4, and any material the army used. Seeing that she followed the basics of chemical reactions, Captain Carter went into further details of power and exothermic scales. Frances nodded, taking it all in. Her formidable long term memory was storing every single detail.

There was a world of thing she didn't know out there. Military, linguistic, astrophysics, culture, history. So much to learn… And while the explanations kept pouring out of the Captain's mouth, with occasional quips and grunts from Colonel O'Neill – he was quite a fire cracker – Frances could only taste the irony of being in a school where they dubbed them "the elite". So much ignorance, at eighteen years old, was not unwarranted. But ignoring your own ignorance was a sin, especially when your head started to inflate because you could align a few mathematical series without breaking a sweat. Now, she was starting to question her choice of career.

Facing your own death, on an ice planet, could do that to someone. And while Frances inwardly cringed about it all, she outwardly laughed at the image that popped in her mind. Carter had been explaining how C4 could be shaped into practically anything like children play dough. Frances' chuckle interrupted her, causing a suspicious look. Feeling Carter's outrage flaring at being laughed at, she came clean.

— "So, if someone carved the C4 into a bomb shape, what would happen?"

Blond eyebrows lifted above of a set clear blue eyes, and Colonel O'Neill couldn't help but snigger on the ground.

— "She got you there," he said.

And even if the smile was strained on his face, his brown eyes twinkled with amusement. Frances laughed at her own stupidity.

— "Sorry, Captain. My brain is fried."

The apology cleared the air between the two women, and Carter cracked a smile before standing up.

— "Let's go and make this thing work."

Frances nodded. There wasn't anything else to do that try, and try again.

But try as they might, failure rained upon them like a vengeful angel. So when O'Neill yelled at them to come and keep him warm in his sleep, Carter eventually gave in and started cursing. Asking for the heavens to send Mac Gyver, and please stop messing around.

By the time Frances and Carter both cuddled around Colonel O'Neill, the mood was grim. Very, very grim. The Captain dosed the Colonel with the last shot of morphine, and while he started slumbering, the blond Captain huddled in a ball by his side.

— "It's my sidearm I swear," he mumbled.

And despite the sombre mood, Frances burst out of laugher. Puns and jokes about sex were legion in her school.

— "As if, with this cold!" she quipped.

Both officers smiled tiredly, and it was the last sentence spoken before they all fell into uneasy slumber. The ground was cold, the air was cold, and the light, already dim, was becoming scarce. Frances frowned, right before sleep overcame her. A glance at her watch, 1:30 am in The States, sent her mind into fits of wonders. Funny, how the sun seemed synchronised with theirs even on an alien planet. At least, they'd not been ambushed but polar bears of strange clawed creatures.

She was grateful enough. Would they ever make it? The chances seemed so scarce, and the young lady wondered why she felt optimistic about their fate. This little voice, in the back of her skull, told her not to worry. That eventually things would clear up, and be all right. Being of a pessimistic nature, she wondered if she was going crazy. Perhaps it was the presence by her side; her awe about the SG1 team that kept her spirits up. Perhaps she was in denial. In that case, reality would bite her soon enough in the ass.

6 hours later

So there it was. Reality. Biting so hard in Frances ass that she didn't feel it anymore. Wait. Probably because she was sitting on a pile of ice that approached -20 °C. Or worse. She longed for the light to change, for the sun to blaze, but all they got was a slighter brighter light than the day before. There had been no real night either which meant they probably were close to a pole.

The metallic bowl was warm in her hands as she slowly fed some broth to the Colonel. Damn, he must be frozen since he couldn't even move. Poor man. This, added to the pain for which they only had codeine tablets left, and it makes a bad day. Night. Or whatever. His whimpers and curses whenever he tried changing position were less heartfelt; he was losing the battle.

Despite a DHD charged up, the gate still refused to work. And while the astrophysicist tried for the umpteenth time to make that blasted wormhole appear, Frances rubbed the Colonel's hands and feet to try to get some warmth in his limbs. His face was pale, so incredibly white even in the blueish environment.

— "Damnit !", Carter yelled, banging her first on the DHD machine.

Frances stood, walking to the young woman whose blue eyes were circled with fatigue.

— "Here, Captain. Take my place for a moment, and share the broth. I'll try to climb up there."

Samantha Carter blinked.

— "Your are crazy."

— "This is what the Colonel asked me to do, but I don't think you're too keen on leaving him down there."

One quick glance at the slumbering man, slouched against the DHD pile of ice, told her as much. Captain Carter's resolved features showed the strength within.

— "No way. We don't leave anyone behind," she whispered.

Frances nodded once. Her team, Mulder and Scully, would have done the same. This was what a team was, right? Tight knitted in adversity.

— "Yeah, I gathered that. So I'll see if there is anything up there. Technology, civilisation. OK?"

A thoughtful look passed over the Captain's exhausted features.

— "Are you sure you can climb up there? It's dangerous"

— "No, I'm not. But I'm a good climber, so…"

Seemingly satisfied, the young woman gathered the broth in her frozen hands and sighed in contentment. A gleam of admiration shone in her eyes, and she dipped her head slightly.

— "Thank you, Frances"

— "I'll radio, when I'm up there."

— "Good"

And while the Captain sank beside her commanding officer, her shoulders slumped in defeat, Frances started her trek to the surface. The fact that light managed to shine through the ice told her the caves were not so deep. The young woman walked soundlessly, careful where her combat boots trod in the slippery ground. Rocks and ice patches alike littered her pathway, and she marked some places by carving crosses to prevent from getting lost. Then she found it, a shaft, at roughly 45 degrees angle, that showed the whitish light of the sun. It wouldn't be easy, with all that stupid glistening ice, but the irregularities allowed her to find some spots to hurl herself up.

Frances inhaled sharply, then started to climb. Without proper equipment, her feet and gloves slid so easily. Fortunately, the ice was so cold that she could sometimes lower herself onto it and use her body heat to stick the cloth to the surface. Several times, it provided enough leverage for her to find a good grip. Her muscles protested from the strain, her fingers slowly warming up only to yell at her for the mistreatment. Her knife sank into the ice like an ice ax as she pulled herself with all her might. Several times, she cut the skin on some asperities, but she couldn't let go. This would mean … no. She couldn't let go.

So Frances climbed, foot by foot, pushing her body to its very limits until she couldn't even close her hands anymore and had to rely on her aching legs. Fortunately, she had reached the top. One last push from her long legs and she was rolling in the snow, shuddering at the contact. Damn, she'd never felt so cold in her entire life; worse than the snow storm she had faced with her brothers in the alps.

From there, it took only ten minutes to walk to the top of a hill. Despite the icy air, she was surprised to see that her heart rate behaved; the atmosphere probably contained the same oxygen rate. The sun shone through glass clouds, but it did little to warm her up as it diffracted. Around her, only white and greys. Squinting her eyes against the harsh light, Frances turned and turned, 360 degrees. Snow dunes, icy hills and a few rocks. Nothing more. No civilisation, no water, nothing in the sky. She couldn't even assess a curvature; the horizon was plain white from icy dust.

Releasing a heavy breath, Frances slumped on the ground. There would be no solution from the outside world. In the last resort, she tried to change the frequency of her radio to pick up anything that might travel across the snowy hills of death.

Nothing. Not a fucking inch of life.

Defeated, Frances contacted Captain Carter. Willing her voice not to waver, she quelled the tears that threatened to overflow.

— "Frances! What's your status?"

There was hope in the woman's voice. Hope she was going to crush in one swift blow.

— "I'm all the way up. There's… nothing. There's ice as far as I can see, and before you ask, I have a very good eyesight."

There, perhaps a little bit of O'Neill's infamous humour wouldn't hurt, right? Frances almost heard the other woman's defeated sigh when she radioed back.

— "All right. Get back down there. There's soup ready"

— "Give me 10 minutes"

And as the wind picked up, its icy clutches coaxing her into death, Frances retreated to the shaft she had climbed with so much difficulty. Her bleeding hands refused to hold, and she actually slid down as carefully as she could. The descent went a little out of control, but her body was so numb that the many bumps didn't even register in her brain. It would hurt like hell if she ever survived.

And so, while the second day closed off on the wandering trio, they fell into slumber without a word of encouragement, huddled against each other. Colonel O'Neill lay between the ladies, like a patriarch would have as the end of the world descended upon them. Darkness claimed Frances fast, exhaustion from the trek shutting up her reeling mind.

Warmth enveloped her like a blanket, lights shifted behind her closed eyelids and familiar voices told her to hold on. For a long time, Frances shifted in and out of consciousness, wondering why noises were so deafening – a helicopter ? – and things so confusing. Her mind couldn't seem to reconcile, fuzzy thoughts mingling with sensations that prevented her from resting properly.

Then darkness came, restful, warm and inviting.

Then it was the steady beep of a heart monitor, and the gentle touch on her hand from a friend's.

When Frances eventually awoke, she found both Fox Mulder and Dana Scully by her bedside. Both conversing in low voices, eyes set upon each other. The young woman smiled, trying to play 'unconscious girl' for a moment more. They never let their guard down whenever she was around, even though the mutual attraction between them burnt brightly. There was no ignoring the loaded looks between them when you knew how to silently communicate with both agents. And they'd done a lot of silent communicating in the past.

Now… things were going to change. Scully had decided to continue working in Washington for the unclassified files, and Mulder was joining the program. Was it the end of the road ? The team was disbanded after years of joint efforts to fulfil Mulder's quest. And now, he'd found what he was looking for. Had the SGC asked him about his abducted sister ? Asked commitment from him ?

— "Frances?"

— "Damn, how did you know I was awake ?"

Frances' voice was raspy, her lips busted by the cold. Fortunately, there was no intubation needed, meaning she didn't have to handle the burns and discomfort of having a tube shoved down her throat.

— "Heart monitor", Scully said.

— "Right"

Scully chuckled then, handing her a glass of water than she downed avidly.

— "Bottom's up !"

Flashing a grin at Mulder, she met his dancing greenish eyes. How she had stared at those eyes, their color changing with the light from hazel to pure blue, to know whether she should bolt and run or stand her ground. They had been a good team through the time of her internship and their collaboration with Interpol. But now…

Frances sighed. Damn, what a headache ! Perhaps now was time to shed the mantle. After all, her new boarding school was more demanding than high school, and she wouldn't be allowed slacking in her work. Still… she didn't want to say goodbye.

Frances was awarded a few days in the infirmary to recover. After 36 hours, she begged the chief doctor, Janet Fraiser, to let her out. Since she had sustained no grave wound, she was allowed to get in Mulder's room during the day. The higher bunk bed was her best friend while the older man ran to and fro, so excited that he couldn't' sit down. Mulder was starting an acclimation program to bring him up to speed with SGC requirements. Then, at the end of October if all went well, he'd become part of SG11.

Scully left the day after, her gaze a little lost, probably wondering how things were going to be now. A heartfelt hug later, both Frances and Mulder retreated to the base, lost in their musings. As the elevator took them to the fortieth something level, the tall man turned to Frances.

— "So, what now ?", he asked.

Frances shrugged.

— "I'm leaving in ten days. In the meantime, doctor Jackson has offered to teach me a few dead languages."

— "Really ?"

— "Yeah, the guy is just too nice for his own good."

Mulder nodded thoughtfully.

— "And highly intelligent. If he had not found the solution…"

Frances frowned; fox Mulder could hardly be dubbed dumb, but Captain Carter and Daniel Jackson were definitely off chart. Still… understanding that, all this time, they had been stranded on earth by a second stargate and trying to dial their own planet. That took a trait of genius. And Frances didn't really want to imagine what would have happened if Dr Jackson had missed this particular clue. No one would have found their frozen bodies in Antarctica.

— "Let's not go there"

Mulder sighed, then reached for the little lady, pulling her into a side hug.

— "You're right. 'What ifs' are not good for health anyway."

Frances returned the hug before letting go; this was a military base after all. Her thoughts wandered to the conversation she'd had with the linguist in a corridor after a chance meeting.

— "Dr Jackson said he wanted to thank me for taking good care of Jack during out little misadventure. And I might have shown interest in one of the papers he had scattered on the ground"

Mulder laughed at that. What a peculiar man.

— "Have you visited the Colonel ?", he eventually asked.

— "I didn't dare", she said with a sheepish smile.

The man intimidated her, and Mulder bit his lip to prevent from smiling. Sometimes, Frances reverted to the shy young woman he knew well. There was such duality in her; it only made things more interesting.

— "Go. I've heard he's bored to death in the infirmary"

— "I can sympathise"

— "Aside from his teammates, I don't think his subordinates would dare visiting him much. But you are not part of the military, so you can screw formality"

Frances laughed at that, and when the elevator dinged, she wondered how Fox Mulder, rebel at heart and breaker of every single rule in the FBI, would accommodate the strict chain of command of the air force. Crossing her fingers, she hoped fervently he would discover the truth about his sister's abduction through the stargate program. Maybe even find her, and get to be the older sibling he'd missed out to be in his youth.


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