This story is SLASH.  Do not read if you are offended by homoerotic content.

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The Last Man Standing...

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"Airman, are you all right?"  In all this noise and all this confusion, she picks me to treat?  Not in this lifetime, Doc.  See?  I'm walking, I'm moving.  All I want to do is get to that gate.  I try to brush past her, but nah…she's gotta flash a friggin light right into my eyes. God damn, Doc, that light bright enough?  Squinting, I swat at her hand and glare.

Airman!  Airman!  I'm a Marine, thank you very much.  Not some pampered little Flyboy who doesn't know his ass from a hole in the head.

"Yeah, 'm fine."  I snap testily over the din. Now, Doc Fraiser ain't one to take guff nicely in a good mood, but today she just nods and ducks as a staff blast sends showers of dirt raining' around us.  It's chaos, pure fucking chaos.  Everyone diving for the Gate and dragging' teammates with 'em.  The medics trying to get to the rest, the ones that are still living' least ways.  SG1 and SG2 blasting away, barely on their feet trying to buy us all some time.  Not for the first time a gal has ta ask herself what the hell happened. 

Squeezing past the doc, I stumble up the stairs and fall headlong for home...and straight back into hell.  The Gateroom is a mass of moving insects, people thrusting their way all about.  Screams and moans, and just people everywhere.   Soldiers aiming guns at me ready to off me until I'm cleared as one of their own.  All I want is a little corner, a little space out of the way.  My head is starting to pound like nothing. 

People were being shoved through the Gate as fast as they could and herded off the ramp just as fast.  Just, ya know, hold your horses.  I'll get there, damn it. Just gimme time.  Gotta find where they put the rest of my team.  I gotta find my guys.  No one knows how to treat them right, knows what they want. 

The captain went down first, almost as soon as we walked through the Gate.  It was kinda ironic and all…the man who never went first being the first to go.  They're going to think I'm hysterical if I don't stop snickering here soon…but it was damn funny.  Saved Larry's life.  First time the man ever acted like a goddamn officer. 

That was us…me, Larry, and Curt. Semper Fi.  Kinda like the 3 Musketeers that way...all for one, one for all. We either all go home or we don't go home at all.  But there wasn't much to come home to now.  I saw the medics grab my teammates.  Scoop and go runs.  Tag em, bag em, toss em through the Gate.  Out of all us, I was the only one to make it back alive and that's cause Major Carter saved my ass.

Some more shuffling around in the throng and I'm finally allowed to sit down.  I'm just gonna blend into this here wall and pretend I don't exist.  It ain't so hard.  I've gotten good at it over the years.  People tend to forget I'm around.  Useful little tool, like right now.

My mind wandered back out there, on the battlefield, and didn't want a wakeup call.  I wanted to remember it all.  That place of blood and limbs and internal organs cast about as if they were the supper for the coyotes.  More and more I was beginning to regret this assignment.  There was no glory here.  And I looked.  Trust me.

There was nothing on the other side of that wormhole but chaos.  Chaos and death swirling around each other in an erotic dance.   Dark, swarming clouds of Death Gliders pouring across the mountaintops.  Young men dressed in SGC uniforms spewing from the surrounding shrubbery and forests, PM5's aimed right at us blasting away. 

Nothing had prepared us for this carnage.  War games, we were supposed to be playing war games with the Tok'ra.  This wasn't any game.  What in the hell happened?  We walked blindly into a war zone.

SG1 and SG2 dove for cover giving as good as they got.  We took cover and returned fire as well, but not before we lost the captain and Curt was put out of commission as well.  His arm was just…gone, blood pumping out in spurts.  There wasn't anything' I could do.  I was too busy aiming for the Jaffa that was gunning' for my head. 

Someone dialed for home, but not before over half the units were pinned down or dying.  God…what the hell happened?  What went wrong?  I just kept firing' and firing' and firing'…no real target in mind.  If it moved I shot at it.  Shot and shot and shot. 

"What in the blue blazes happened out there?"  General Hammond came marching into the Gateroom, a mama bear all ready to defend her cubs.  I couldn't help it.  Really I couldn't.  One doesn't laugh in a General's face, but...mama bear.  I don't think he'd appreciate the comparison.  It's been my impression that Generals get testy about the oddest things.  I'm pretty damn sure that's one of them. 

"Bad Recon, sir."  Poor guy, barely on his feet trying to salute the General.  Bad Recon my ass.  It was a set up, pure and simple.  Anyone who doesn't think so is about to find out the hard way.  Hope someone has the brains to shut down the iris.  Blind, they're all blind.  Well, except Colonel O'Neill.  He always knew it was coming.

I really must look a sight sitting here.  Cept for a few nicks and scratches, and a mighty fine cut in a place we won't mention, I survived.  A lot better than this lot of folks.  They don't look right happy at the moment.  Somebody handed me a blanket along with a handful of others and stuck us in a corner.  I remember this part!  They told us about it in boot camp.  Triage.  The last man standing is the last man treated.  They'd said that if you walking' and talking' you must be breathing' and not bleeding'.  Thought it was funny at the time.

Now...now I ain't so sure they weren't the lucky ones, the guys and gals on the stretchers being' hauled off to the infirmary.  It had to happen sooner or later.  Those snake heads, as Colonel O'Neill calls 'em, have smarts. 

We were sitting ducks.  Just begging to be shot, as my mama would say.  One second I'm walking through the Gate and the next, I'm flat on my ass the wind knocked the hell outta me.  Good thing that there stone pillar stopped me from going too far.  Be a mite black and blue in the morning, but they raise tough up in the mountains.  Hell, my daddy's thrown me against walls harder than that.  So, what's that? You, like, get a resistance over time?  Don't matter. 

More people coming through the Gate...SG1, I think.  Sweat pouring down my face makes it kinda hard to see through, ya know?  I think they took the worst of it.  But hey...they ain't dead, so that's a plus.  Barely standing and Teal'c is dragging the Colonel by his arms.  It musta been bad.  Real bad.  I sit up a little straighter trying to catch a glimpse, but all I see is blood.  Major Carter and Dr. Jackson are leaning on each other, each struggling to make it down the ramp.  I'd help, but I'm too tired. 

What'da mess.  What a big friggin mess.  Who did the recon on this?  When I get my hands on 'em the first thing I'm gonna do is shove some of these guts down their throat.  Man, I'm plastered with the stuff.  How's that line from that bug movie go?  The fleet keeps on flying' and the infantry keeps on dying'.  That guy Heinlein must met a few marines in his time cause that's just how it is; one after another, only we don't leave anyone behind.  Wherever recon is, they're gonna pay...after I get a little shuteye.  It's been a long day. 

Starting to get a bit cold in here now.  I wonder if I can get another blanket.  The medics come round handing out morphine shots like they're candy.  I don't need one and tell the guy so.  All I want is a blanket.  Strange thing about medics, they all go happy, happy, joy, joy on your ass, or they look so somber they could fight over the rights to who looks more dead, them or a corpse.  And ain't I the lucky one?  I got a somber one.  Can I please just have a blanket, thank you very much!  Now I'm starting to get pissed.  Can't a gal just lay down and take a nap?  The infirmary is full, they don't have the personnel to spare tending to a few nicks and scratches and would this guy get the hell out of my face with his lights and needles and leave me in PEACE!

Old somber face nearly broke a world record moving on.  Who's my mama, who's my daddy?  I don't really give a fuck right now Doc, come back and check later.  When I might give a damn.  I just want to lay here, listen to the quite hum of the lights above, the frantic scurrying of the medical personnel still loading the wounded onto gurneys and taking them off to the infirmary. 

A couple added to my little corner...some dead, some soon to be dead, and few that could walk, like me.  They didn't look no better than I was.  One guy had blood all matted in his hair and he kept staring at his hands like there was something special about 'em. 

Damn medic...he gave me a shot!  I didn't feel it, but I sure do feel the floating'.  For Christ's sake, all I did was get grazed by a staff blast.  Nothing special.  Had a few things blow up around me and one of those hand magigger thingies toss me into a wall.  It's not so bad.  Been hurt worse.  I hate this floating feeling.  I hate medics who think they know better.  Don't they know a little pain lets you know you're alive?  Keeps you grounded in the here and now?  Keeps you focused...I wanted to stay focused...

Too late...things were getting really hazy, muted, not there.

"How are feeling Sergeant Kaley?"  Man, I always did love the sound of that voice, soft, lilting, and commanding, Major Carter.  She looked like something the cat the dragged in, but ya know, had to be the prettiest thing I'd seen in a long time.  Her uniform was all rumpled, scratches and nicks all over the place.  She looked tired, as tired as I felt yet she still found the energy to smile.

"I'm fine Ma'am.  Just need to catch a few winks and I'll be right as rain."  Didn't look as if I convinced her, she just chuckled quietly and gave me a hand up. 

"Come on.  Let's get you to the infirmary. It would be a shame to let a good soldier waste away." She kept me on my feet, supporting me all the way there and stayed until someone realized I wasn't the walking wounded, but the bleeding wounded.  Someone was going to get their ass chewed later, but I didn't care right now.   Right now I just wanted to live. 

Leaning on her, things didn't seem so bad anymore.  There was somebody there who cared.  That's a nice feeling, having mates, people there for you.  And one trip to PX5-729 took it all away and gave it back again.  I don't think I'll take my friendships so lightly again, for some of us…that's all we got.

That's twice Major Carter saved my life.  If it hadn't been for her out there in the field, I'd be toast.  Nothing but Jaffa kabob.   And if she hadn't noticed in that entire melee that I really needed someone to watch my back, I'd be just as dead.  I guess that little nick wasn't so little after all.  Now all I need is a way to say thanks…once I'm back on my feet again.