After a year, they hadn't given up. They'd just run out of ideas. No matter what they did, the Gate wouldn't look on. They'd tried from seemingly hundreds of different Gates, they'd run so many diagnostics that the technicians could do it in their sleep. Every idea, no matter how wild, had been tried, but to no avail. Carter was stuck. There wasn't any way to get to her.

But they hadn't given up hope. Without fail, on the hour, every hour, they would dial the Gate. It was their routine, and it served no purpose other than to keep hope alive. The Gate never locked on. Never. It would all go just dandy up until the point where Walter would say "Chevron Seven will not engage." But even so, they never stopped trying. Day or night, they would always try it once an hour. Sometimes SG-1 would be there, all silently lined up in the control room, all secretly hoping that this would be the time when the Gate engaged, but it never was. They would never air their disappointment, but inside, they all felt dejected every time the Gate failed to engage. They hate the feeling of coming to watch, and be disappointed every time. Yet, they still came and watched as often as they could. What else was there to do?

The mission had been hard. A five-hour fire-fight, and three good men in the infirmary. They would all recover, but Jack still felt horrible. He felt tired, dirty, and dejected. All he wanted to do was to go home, have a nice, long shower, and sleep. He didn't even fancy a beer. All he wanted was for this debriefing to be over as quickly as possible. Thank God for the General for keeping it short.
'Alright, you're all dismissed. Get some rest, and take tomorrow off,' the General said, getting up.
'Yes, Sir,' Jack said, looking at his watch.
'Almost time,' Daniel said.
'Indeed,' Teal'c said.
'Well, I suppose I'll join you,' the General said. 'The President can wait five minutes.'
'Yes, Sir,' Jack said, managing a small smile.

All lined up behind Walter, the General gave the order to dial the Gate, hoping, just like everyone else that this would be the time that the Gate finally connected.

It didn't.

An hour later, Jack was just getting in his truck when his phone rang. At first, he couldn't be bothered to answer it. He just wanted to get home, now! He let the phone ring a few more times, before deciding that an angry General wasn't what he needed now.

'O'Neill,' he answered.
'It worked!' Daniel shouted.
'What?' Jack asked.
'The Gate! It dialled!' Daniel shouted, his voice sounding happier than it ever had before. 'It dialled successfully! It locked on!'
Jack didn't say a thing. He just stared out of the windshield, looking emptily into space. It worked.
'Jack?' Daniel said. 'Get back here now! The General has given us a go-ahead if the Gate dials successfully again in ten minutes.'

Ten minutes.

Ten minutes later, Jack was in the control room, probably having broken every security rule in getting down in record time. The Gate was in the middle of dialling. He took up position next to Daniel, who had calmed down, and just gave Jack a massive smile.
'Chevron Seven,' Walter said, 'is locked,' his voice almost sounding shocked to be saying the words he had just spoken. Three heads quickly turned to the General, who, without even needing the question asked, said 'Suit up, you've got a go.'

The Gate was half-an-hours walk, each way, away from the village, but Sam made the trip every day, regardless. 'I need the exercise,' she'd tell those who asked, but really, she couldn't stand to face the reality that she was probably never going to see her friends ever again. The least she could do was to try dialling Earth, every day. Who knows, it might work one day…

As she walked up to the DHD, Sam put down her P90 besides it, and sighed. Please, please, please work. She began dialling, one symbol after the other, until…
The Gate activated with the vortex shooting out. Sam was speechless. It'd worked! She'd dialled home to Earth! No you haven't. There are seven symbols, not four. Shit. She grabbed her P90, and quickly cocked it, pointing it at the Gate. She wasn't sure what to make of this. What had just happened? She hadn't dialled the Gate, someone had dialled in. But who…

Three minutes later, a figure emerged from the Gate. Sam stood up, still pointing her P90 at the Gate. The figure stopped, and looked at her. She couldn't believe it. It was…

'Jack!'