"O'Neill, are you there?" Teal'c's voice broke into O'Neill's thoughts and startled the others awake. Daniel flung out an arm and clunked him, Carter jerked her head up and collided with his chin, and then they were all scurrying to locate her radio in the dark. She found it first and pushed it into his outstretched hand as though she understood his need to be the one who took this call.

"Teal'c, old buddy," he said, his voice quiet and deceptively calm, "Where ya been?"

"I regret to inform you, O'Neill that I failed in my attempt to reach the DHD."

"So you've been trying to push your way through all this time?" he asked. "Then why didn't you answer the phone?"

There was a hesitant pause that they were not prepared to hear coming from Teal'c. It told them much they didn't want to know. "I suffered a fall trying to scale the wall-"

"I told you to stay off that thing!" O'Neill whose quiet had quickly escalated into a shout thundered at him.

"Yes, you did, but I did not. I am sorry."

"Yea, well, you should be...what's your situation?"

"I have sustained an injury to my leg, but my symbiote is progressing in making the necessary repairs."

"Uh huh," O'Neill said to show he was not fooled into believing things were as simple as Teal'c's calm words and quiet tone implied.

"It is of concern only in the fact it will hinder my attempt to inform General Hammond of our situation," Teal'c said in an attempt to reassure O'Neill. It was an attempt that was no more successful than his climb over the wall had been.

"We're coming after you, Teal'c," the colonel said in a tone that clearly said it was settled and there was no use in arguing.

"Jack?" Daniel asked from one side of him. "How are we doing that? You know, seeing the last I looked it's still snowing, and we don't even know where he is.

As usual, Jack ignored him. "You hear me, Teal'c? We are coming after you."

"I hear you, O'Neill."

"Good then. We've got to clean house and pull on our clean clothes…give us ten minutes then shoot your revolver—tell me you still have it with you?"

"I do. I have lost nothing but my rope," Teal'c said though it wasn't true; he'd lost his pride and assurance as well. He chose to keep that to himself along with the true extent of his injuries.

"Good. Give us ten minutes, fire it twice, and await further instructions...if you don't hear from us, assume we've lost the radio and continue to fire at regular intervals as long as you can."

"Understood," Teal'c answered and signed off.

"Pack it up folks, and bundle up...we're going for a walk." Carter wordlessly pressed two energy bars into his hand. She'd already torn them open, and he winced at the reminder she didn't feel he was fit for duty. He agreed, but he'd rather she didn't have to know it.

They emerged from their manmade cave into the silent, snow-lit night to discover the storm had broken. They stood trying to adjust to breathing the cold, biting air without coughing and took in their situation. Two moons, one full and one barely a sliver, showed faintly through the thinning clouds. The hill that had provided them shelter for the past days stretched on into the distance behind them. Otherwise the land was flat and marked only by wind-sculptured waves of snow. Not content with its masterpiece, the wind swept along the barren landscape blowing snow here and there and dropping it where it would. The swirling snow seemed to take on a life of its own, like a creeping mist or spectral dancers moving to music not audible to their human observers.

O'Neill surveyed the scene with satisfaction. The heavy drifts Teal'c had encountered were not a problem here. They had a good chance of making headway in the foot or so of fresh snow that covered most of the ground. It wouldn't be a walk in a winter wonderland, but it would be doable. The wind gusts were nothing compared to what they'd encountered before, and that was all to the good. The temperature though would only continue to drop as the blanketing insulation of the clouds cleared. They'd need to move fast to avoid being in it any longer than was necessary. But, it couldn't be as bad as they'd experienced in the brunt of the storm.

The problem was they weren't as able as they'd been then. They were all, he guessed, not yet recovered from their earlier battles against the elements. Perhaps, it would be best if Teal'c's gunshots didn't carry to them through the cold brittle air and they were forced back into their shared confinement. But, the shots did carry. They reached them so faintly and indistinctly that he didn't even flinch. They stared at one another and strained to locate their direction and couldn't come to a consensus. The colonel cast the deciding vote by pointing his painfully, aching feet straight away from their abandoned temporary home and setting off expecting them to follow.

Their trek across the frozen prairie seemed endless. The quiet of the night was broken only by the occasional sound of the wind, Teal'c's periodic shots, the crunch of the snow as they trudged through it, and their own ragged breathing. They had no energy for small talk. What energy they did have, they reserved for ever moving onward chasing Teal'c's elusive gunfire and enduring the burning, stinging of freezing body parts.

This time they were as prepared for the cold as they could be...encased in parkas, hoods, and thick, bulky gloves; and then wrapped in their silver blankets. They'd donned their snow goggles, slathered on the skin protectant, and tucked their canteens of purified, melted snow warmly into their parkas. But, their burning ears, tingling fingers, and numb toes didn't seem to notice the difference. The manuals warned that those who'd been affected by severe cold once could more easily suffer its effects when exposed again...Carter, for one, believed the manuals. She clamped her teeth shut to keep them from chattering, set her eyes on the colonel's unbending back, and pushed on anyway.

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Under his blankets of foil and snow, Teal'c waited for his teammates to arrive. He'd consumed the last of his food supply in an act of faith. O'Neill had said he was coming. Hoarding his food would show doubt in O'Neill's ability to keep his word, and somehow, however irrationally, Teal'c felt that this disbelief would be transmitted to his friend and undermine his determination. So, he had eaten the last of his food and exercised his aching leg in preparation for the time he would need to join his friends on the last leg of their trek to the StarGate.

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O'Neill was in trouble. In Teal'c's absence, he believed he belonged at point, but the effort required to break a path through the ice-encrusted snow was killing him. Under the guise of waiting for Teal'c's next shot, he paused. Panting hard, desperately trying to catch his breath, bent almost double with the pain from his aching feet, he wouldn't fool Carter or Daniel. He could continue on and endanger them all with his stubbornness. Or he could accept his limitations and hopefully save them the trouble of having to drag his worthless hide out of here along with Teal'c.

He reluctantly turned to the major as she pulled up behind him. "Take point, Carter," he said, his order an admission he didn't want to make.

She acknowledged his order with a 'yes, Sir' and his admission with the straightening of her shoulders as though she was preparing to hear bad news. "We'll all switch off," he said, trying to assure her he only needed a break before being once again raring to go.

Her 'yes, Sir' sounded unconvinced, but Teal'c's shot came before she could voice her concerns, and she moved off in its direction.

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Another hour and they were all struggling. The drifts had begun to deepen and what had already been difficult was becoming close to impossible. They had to stop frequently to gasp in lungfuls of the thin, frigid air. They were spending almost as much time falling in the drifts and pulling one another out as they were making forward progress. Teal'c's bullets had run out, but they were close enough to sight the flares he was now shooting up. Unfortunately, they too would run out soon. He'd hoped to have a strong enough bleep from Teal'c's homing beacon by now to get a fix on his downed teammember, but even Daniel's batteries were so weak they might as well have been dead.

He called a halt long enough to warm water with the chemical water heaters from their MREs. They swallowed it down scorching hot and let its warmth worm it way through them as they plowed on through the snow.

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The UAV thundered down its launch pad and through the Gate the moment the techs had let out their triumphant roar. The general hadn't waited to hear the details. Their jubilation was enough. He motioned the rescue teams through before the smoke had cleared. Janet Frasier, her face obscured by her parka and snow goggles, nodded up at him as she marched up the ramp beside one of the snow mobiles. Now they were getting somewhere.

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The rescue team raised their faces in astonishment when Teal'c's last flare flew up practically behind their backs and burnt itself out in the night sky. As a group they stared after it as though mesmerized and then began a mad dash towards its direction as though the starter's gun had fired. Within minutes, they were able to radio their anxiously waiting commander that they'd recovered Teal'c and were in the process of bringing him home.

"And the rest of SG-1?" he asked, his throat full of hope and fear.

"Negative, Sir, but Teal'c has been in contact up until sometime tonight...he believes they've lost contact due to depleted radio batteries, Sir." Hammond winced at this news he didn't want to hear. He wanted his people out of the weather NOW. But, instead, they were in for another wait. It would take time for the UAV to perform a standard search for their heat signatures. Their locator beacons would have led it right to them.

"I see," he said. "All present and accounted for?"

"Affirmative, Sir." There was that then.

"What's their situation?"

"Teal'c is unsure of their physical condition, Sir. They've had only radio contact since we lost contact with them. They had taken shelter from the storm, but it appears they're on the move now. Trying to reach the Gate...drifts are pretty bad here, Sir. I can't see them coming in on foot. We're waiting on the UAV for a fix on their position, and then we'll move out with the machines. By Teal'c's estimation, they've been out in the weather going on five hours..."

"Understood," Hammond said and breathed out a sigh. He understood all too well. He had a team out there still in serious trouble. Possible injuries, likely suffering from the effects of a prolonged period of forced inactivity, definitely suffering from the effects of a five-hour march in artic conditions. "I trust you to bring them home then."

"Thank you, Sir...we will."

"I know it. Report as soon as the UAV picks up their signal and hourly until then. Hammond out." He flinched when the Gate closed at his command. He had good people out there in trouble, and good people doing all they could to bring them home. And he was stuck holding down the fort and praying for their return.

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They'd hit the wall-not the hoped for solid wall of the Gate platform, but the metaphorical wall that marked the end of the line. They'd hit it hard and fought it hard, but there wasn't enough left in any of them to push on through it. They were all more or less collapsed where they'd broken through the icy, cutting crust of the drift and stayed without the strength to flounder out on their own or together.

"Please, Sir," Carter begged him, breathing hard and almost certainly crying behind her snow goggles, "just a minute...let us rest just one minute."

"Yeah, Jack," Daniel gasped out, "Just one...then we'll go on. Promise we will." He reached out a shaking hand to pat Carter's arm. Seeing it, Jack almost cried himself. They deserved so much better than this. What had made him think they could cover miles when Teal'c hadn't been able to cover yards?

They were both smart people, why hadn't they told him to go jump in a snow bank? Why had they followed him out into the cold? What about him had made them believe he'd see them through? Whatever it was, it had betrayed them-he had betrayed them. He owed them an apology for his foolhardy recklessness that had brought them this far and then disappeared like their puffs of breath in the cold air somewhere in this last drift.

But, he wouldn't give them one. Teal'c put a lot of stock in dying a worthy death...turns out Jack O'Neill did, too. And he wouldn't admit to them he'd failed to give them one. Better to leave them with the idea there had been meaning behind this idiocy rather than just the foolish delusions of an unfit commander.

"Sir?" Carter pleaded with him again. But, he shook his head into her anguished face and wouldn't release them from their duty to carry on. He thought he should. They deserved the peace it would give them. She would have done it for him-had, in fact, done it for him in Antarctica. But, he wouldn't do the same for her or for Daniel. The words would be easy enough to say, "Sure, a minute...it'll be fine...go ahead and rest." But, he couldn't say them. It would, he was certain, be ordering their execution. Death was circling them even now. No matter how else he'd failed them, he wouldn't give it the go-ahead to move in for the kill.

"Come on, Major!" he snarled into her trusting face instead. "We're not stopping here. We're going on. NOW!" He leaned as far over from his stuck position as he could and wagged an angry gloved finger in her face. "Enough of this! If I hear one more complaint out of you-"

"Stop it, Jack! Leave her alone!" Daniel yelled at him. He drew back his arm to strike at Jack, but Carter pulled it back down.

"It's all right, Daniel," she said with resignation in her voice, and something else. "The colonel's right, we can't stay here. We've got to get to Teal'c...we've got to go."

Daniel shook his arm from her grasp and then dropped his head for a moment. "Right," he said once and then again, "right...we've got to go on...sorry, Jack." And then the two of them were clambering out of the drift and dragging him along with them. They over-balanced, and he shot out of the drift and ended up on his already well-chilled rump.

Carter reached out her hand and pulled him up. "Thank you, Sir," she said though he was the one who should have been thanking her. "I don't know what I was...if you hadn't been here..."

Jack couldn't look at her; he couldn't look at either of them. And he couldn't speak. He simply nodded his head, dusted off what he could of the snow and ice coating his parka, and moved off again. He didn't look back to make sure they were following him...God help him, he knew they were.

They heard the snowmobiles before they saw them. They stared dumbly at each other in disbelief and then came to a stumbling stop shoulder to shoulder. They stared at the clouds of driven snow the speeding machines sent out in their wake. Jack gave a shocked snort of disbelief which turned into a paroxysm of coughing on his part and all but hysterical laughing on the part of his teammates. They didn't have the energy to sustain it long and it fizzled out quickly. They straightened up and stared once more towards the sound of the approaching machines. They were still coming...they hadn't disappeared like a mirage in the desert.

The three members of SG-1 looked wonderingly at each. Then Jack shrugged a 'why not' at them and motioned them forward, and they stumbled onward to meet their rescuers.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Another storm, of only slightly less intensity than the one they'd just escaped, rolled in behind them as the Gate shutdown, but it didn't matter. They'd already come in from the cold.

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Original Author's Notes: What can I say? I was inspired by the beauty of the wind-blown snow outside and David Laskin's spellbinding blend of history, science, and human tragedy in The Children's Blizzard.

In an attempt to keep some connection with reality, I referenced a very informative article on the effects of cold weather on the health and performance of military personnel. The article can be found at: .

Any facts I actually got right can be attributed to either it or David Laskin. Any mistakes can be attributed to laziness, writer's prerogative, and creative license.