One More Revelation

by denise1

Revelations takes a hard left turn at Alburquerque and we're headed into the fun world of alternate universes. 'Icky Het' warning, Sam and Jack

One More Revelation

By

Denise

"Go to hell."

The human's defiant words washed over Osiris, his amusement only slightly diminished by his host's dismay at her previous ones.

'He's dead.'

He knew who Major Carter was referring to. Doctor Jackson, the woman's teammate and an old acquaintance of his present host.

"Take her to the ship," he ordered, mindful that his time was limited. Two Jaffa hurried to do his bidding and Osiris paused, taking one last look around. It was doubtful that the Asgard had left any vital information behind, and even if they had, Osiris knew that he lacked the time necessary to gain access to it.

Besides, it was more likely that the knowledge that Major Carter possessed would be even more valuable.

Turning on his heel, he hurried back to where they'd entered the facility, having used their weapons to destroy enough of the planet's crust to enable the rings to penetrate.

Once there, he touched the controls on his wrist weapon, summoning the rings. The moment he was on board his ship, he gave the order to depart.

Anubis would not be happy with his perceived abandonment; however Osiris was confident that his capture of Major Carter, and her secrets, would be more than sufficient to gain him some understanding.

The ship jolted slightly as it jumped into hyperspace and Osiris smiled, taking a moment to savor his success. Somehow he knew that Major Carter would not share her secrets willingly, and for the first time in a long time, he felt anticipation

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack fired the staff weapon and the blast shattered the crystals, sending pieces skittering across the deck. Ordinarily, he wasn't a fan of wanton destruction – his familiarity with C4 aside - however time was very much of the essence.

Not only did they need to rescue Thor from Anubis' ship, but there was also Carter to consider. Jack could only hope that she was still in Heimdal's lab and that the Asgard could beam her out at the same time. Of course, that presumed that Heimdal was paying attention and – his world flashed white and Jack tensed, raising the staff weapon for a split second before recognizing the familiar surroundings of a Teltac.

Thor – still restrained on the table- shimmered into existence and Jack looked around, searching for Carter.

"We must depart before Anubis realizes what has transpired," Heimdal said, walking from the cockpit to the cargo area.

"Where is Major Carter?" Teal'c demanded.

"She was transported onto Osiris' ship," Heimdal said.

"So? Get us over there," Jack ordered. No way, it was not going to go down this way. They were not going to leave one of their own behind.

"I regret, O'Neill, that I am unable to comply." The Teltac jolted, rocked by weapons fire. Teal'c dashed forward, throwing himself into the pilot's chair.

"Hyper drive engines are damaged. Shields are at sixty three percent," he called out.

"Heimdal—"

"O'Neill, our ancestor must be preserved. The future of the Asgard race depends on it."

"I don't give a damn—"

"O'Neill. You cannot take me with you," Thor interrupted, his voice low and weak and distracting Jack from the urge to wring Heimdal's skinny neck.

"You don't quite get the meaning of the word rescue, do you?" Jack asked him.

"The link between myself and the Goa'uld ship has not been severed. They will be able to track our position. You must leave me behind," he insisted.

"All right, that doesn't work for me. That's not an option. Okay?" The ship shook again. "T?"

"Shields have failed," he reported.

"This thing got a –"

"O'Neill."

Jack hurried forward. suddenly sick of his own name. Through the view screen he could see three Asgard ships pop into view. One of them maneuvered until it was directly overhead, shielding the Teltac from Anubis' ship.

"There is a transmission," Teal'c said, pressing the control to bring it up.

"This is Freyr of the Asgard. The vessels you face are far superior to the one you attacked. Challenge us at your own peril."

"They are departing," Teal'c said. Jack nodded, relieved that one emergency was resolved.

"The Asgard are grateful for your assistance," Heimdal said.

"Super. I need a ship," Jack said, turning to look at the small alien.

"O'Neill?"

"You said that Carter was on Osiris' ship. We're going after her," Jack stated.

"That will not be possible."

"Why the hell not?"

"Osiris ship has already leapt to hyperspace. We are unable to track it."

"What do you mean you're unable to track it?" Jack demanded, glancing over at Teal'c. Alarm and concern flashed through the Jaffa's eyes. They couldn't be unable. Unable meant that Carter was out there alone and—

"Do the Asgard not possess superior scanning technology?" Teal'c asked.

"We do," Heimdal said. "However we are unable to track a ship once it enters hyperspace unless we enter hyperspace at the same time and can extrapolate its course."

"Major Carter reported that you were able to track the Replicator ships when she assisted Thor in their destruction," Teal'c countered.

"That was within Asgard space. We have sensor beacons to assist in the surveillance of our own space. Those beacons do not exist here."

"So what?" Jack demanded, raising his voice. "You just write her off?"

"I believe the humans have a phrase—"

"Don't!" Jack interrupted. "You came to us! You asked for OUR help. You put her in that situation!"

"It was Major Carter's choice to remain behind to assist you and Teal'c in escaping," Heimdal said. "I urged her to remain with me."

Jack's fist clenched as he fought the urge to ram his words down Heimdal's smug throat. They wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place if it wasn't for—

"O'Neill." Teal'c's hand settled on Jack's shoulder. "The Asgard do possess the technology to scan for ships once they exit hyperspace," he said, directing his words at Heimdal.

"We do."

"Then surely in deference to the many times Major Carter has assisted the Asgard and presuming that such assistance will be required in the future, scanning for Osiris' ship and recovering her will be a priority for the Asgard High Council," he said, his tone even but his words heavy with meaning. Find Carter or some up with your own dumb ideas.

"I shall inform the fleet," Heimdal said after a few seconds. "However if we locate her, our options are—"

"We'll take care of the options," Jack said, his tone resolute. They were getting her back. As far as Jack was concerned there was no other option. He wasn't going to lose anyone else.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The tormenting golden beam faded and Sam fell, not even caring if the Jaffa caught her or not. Her head pounded with such ferocity that she wouldn't be surprised if it popped like an overfilled balloon.

"I have had enough amusement for today," Osiris said, stepping away. "Return her to her cell."

Rough hands grabbed Sam under her arms and pulled her up off the floor, dragging her from the room. She didn't even protest, it hadn't taken her long to figure out that it accomplished nothing – and was a waste of energy that she didn't have to spare.

She knew that she wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. Each time she 'spoke' with Osiris, it was more and more tempting to give her what she wanted, to tell her everything about Earth and the Asgard and the Tok'ra. Hell, she'd even give up her iris code – not that she wasn't sure that it'd been locked out anyway.

As near as she could figure, it'd been several days. The colonel and Teal'c had to have been successful – Osiris would have gloated had she still had them captive.

So word would have gotten back to Earth by now. A few weeks ago, she would have expected a rescue – but not this time.

The Asgard had no way of tracking what ship she was on and even if they did, she didn't have much faith in the colonel caring enough to even come looking.

'He's gone. We got work to do.'

That's what she'd become, a footnote in a report. Major Carter, MIA, presumed KIA. Next of kin notified. Search for replacement underway.

Her dad might look for her, if the Tok'ra let him. She knew that, in the grand scheme of things, she really didn't matter much. She was just one person, one cog in a very large machine. She could be, and possibly already had been, replaced.

They arrived back at her cell and she was dumped unceremoniously on the floor. She stayed where they dropped her, both not ready to pick herself up and not in the mood to give them any amusement as she tried to get off the floor.

One of the Jaffa grabbed her, pushing her to her back. "Tau'ri," he growled, his eyes narrow and cold.

Sam stared, trying to figure out this break in the routine. As long as she'd been here, none of the Jaffa had ever shown anything but the most cursory interest in her.

He wrapped his fingers around her throat, his grip painfully tight. "My brother died at your hands," he said, his other hand going to his waist. "I claim vengeance," he said, drawing his knife and plunging it into her middle in one swift stroke.

Sam gasped, falling helplessly back onto the floor as he released her. Her hands wrapped around her stomach, seeking to cradle the wound that burned like fire. Dimly she heard them leave, the cell door clanking shut as she curled onto her side, her own blood soaking through her clothes.

Still in shock, she opened her eyes and idly watched the blood stream from the wound, painting the deck in a garish tapestry. As the pool of her life's blood grew larger and larger, her eyes grew heavier and heavier and her last thought before she died was that at least her secrets would die with her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack slammed the locker door shut, taking perverse pleasure in the sound that echoed off the bare concrete walls. His eyes strayed to the locker next to his, S. Carter.

It was a perk that he and a few other teams had, their own gear up room – one of the advantages of being one of the first teams.

When the SGC had started, they'd had more room than people, so they'd been allowed to sprawl. That wasn't happening as much anymore. In fact, if the rumors of five more teams were true, space would soon be at a premium. And little things like keeping a locker for a missing officer open would become a thing of the past.

Two weeks.

It'd been two weeks since they'd saved Thor – although saved might not be the right term considering that the alien was in a coma.

Two weeks since Osiris had taken off with Carter.

If he could be called anything, Jack O'Neill was a realist. As much as he wanted to hope that she was alive and would come walking through the gate, a little dirty, tired and ready to put it all down in a neat report complete with bullet points, he knew that that ending was incredibly unlikely. If she was lucky, she was dead.

As horrible as it sounded, he wanted her to be dead. Death was peace, a release – and something Jack had prayed for more than once in his life.

He reached out and touched her locker, his fingers tracing the engraved letters of her name. She hadn't wanted to go, that much had been painfully obvious. She'd only gone on the mission because it'd been expected of her and because, probably, she hadn't wanted to appear weak by refusing.

Hindsight was perfect. Hindsight said that he should have left her behind, or he should have kept her with him and let Teal'c be the hologram. Or told the Asgard to go shove their plea for help right up their little gray asses.

They weren't going to find her. Hell, he doubted that they were even looking. The Asgard were just like all the other allies, happy to have their help but conveniently absent when the tables were turned.

She was gone. Just like Daniel.

She was gone and she was never coming back.

Making his decision, he reached into her locker and pulled out the small bag she kept there. She used it for her laundry, and to smuggle chocolate bars in for Teal'c.

He quickly went through her things, pulling out anything that wasn't Air Force issue.

In just a few minutes, the bag was stuffed full. He shut the locker door, taking a second to slide the name plate out of its holder, once again tracing the letters before sliding it into his pocket.

Hefting the bag, he left the room, making yet another decision. He wasn't going to do this anymore. Couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't clean out anymore friend's lockers, he couldn't attend anymore memorial services with empty caskets.

He'd talk to Teal'c in the morning, then Hammond and tomorrow, he'd come back and clean out his own locker.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam slowly opened her eyes. She breathed deep, a warm feeling of well being washing over her. She felt good, like the last time she'd slept in and woken after a full night's sleep.

She lazily looked around frowning at the soft whiteness. Where the hell was she? Memory flooded back and her heart leapt. Her hands flew to her chest and an icy knot settled in her stomach as she encountered stiff and torn material.

Oh God, it was real.

A sarcophagus. She had to be in a sarcophagus.

She raised her hands, pushing against the lid. Her heart began to pound and her breath rasped harshly in her throat. Small. It was too small. She needed to get out, had to get out.

She heard a small click and the lid started to open. She pushed herself up, hoping that maybe the sarcophagus was unattended and she could get away.

Her hopes were dashed when a pair of beefy hands grabbed her arms, hauling her out of the healing box and dropping her to the floor.

"You did not think our time would be over so quickly?" Osiris drawled, slowly stepping forward.

Despite herself, Sam leaned back, trying to get away. She slid back, stopping when she came against a wall. Trapped she could only look up as Osiris loomed over her, the jewel in his hand device beginning to glow. "You should consider yourself fortunate, the Jaffa who harmed you will not receive the gift of eternal life. Now," she cocked her head to one side. "Where were we?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Paria watched as Osiris lowered her hand, the jewel in the center of the hand device dimming. She waved her hand and two Jaffa came forth, picking the human up from off the floor and dragging her from the room. Osiris watched for a moment, then stepped forward, reaching out one hand to trail it across the golden surface of the sarcophagus.

"Did you learn anything of value?" he asked, his position as her lotar giving him the freedom to be so bold.

She shrugged, sighing softly. "Not really. These humans are most stubborn."

"Indeed," he agreed, moving to stand at her side. He reached out, one hand taking her right one while his right hand moved to cup the back of her neck, turning her to face him.

"Your host is being difficult again, isn't she?" he asked.

"It is nothing I cannot control," Osiris said, her back stiffening.

"Of course not, my love," he said, smiling gently. "However, I know that using the device is sometimes difficult for you. It takes a great deal of strength and your host often takes advantage of your…exhaustion to exert herself."

"She does find interrogations distasteful," Osiris admitted.

"You should not have to burden yourself with such trials," he said, tracing one hand slowly along the curve of her cheek. "You should replenish your strength." He reached down, pushing the button to open the top of the sarcophagus.

Osiris slowly shook her head. "No, I—"

"That is your host speaking," he interrupted. "She does not like the sarcophagus because it gives you strength. She knows that the longer you refrain from partaking in its healing beams, the greater her influence over you becomes."

Osiris frowned, shaking her head slightly. "She does not control me."

"Then why not rest within?" he asked. "You can awaken refreshed and strengthened." He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. "And more able to partake in the pleasures that I have planned."

"Paria, I--

"Did I tell you that I discovered a cache of Rigellian Wine in the hold? I know that it is your favorite."

She stiffened and he was afraid that she was going to refuse. To his relief, she sighed and smiled. "I am a bit fatigued," she confessed, her left hand caressing his arm. The metal of her device was cold against his skin and he suppressed a shiver. "While I rest, perhaps you can find some kyenta," she suggested, naming a substance that she said reminded her of something her host called chocolate.

"I shall indeed strive to please you," he promised.

"Of that, I am certain," she said, pulling away from him. She moved towards the sarcophagus and stepped in, lying down in the machine.

Paria closed the top and manipulated the controls, setting the machine to its strongest setting. It did mean that she would awake most invigorated – and hungry – not just for  food. However, it also insured that she would rest within for several hours, which was just what he needed. Several hours of peace and privacy to set his plans into motion.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Are you certain, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked, studying his friend.

"I'm beyond certain," the man replied. "Truth be told, I never shoulda come back." His voice was low and Teal'c could hear the remorse in his tone, see the grief in his eyes.

"Was not the last time your resigned a subterfuge?"

"I should have got while the getting was good," he continued, ignoring Teal'c's question.

"I do not believe that General Hammond will agree with your course of action."

O'Neill shrugged. "He doesn't. He wants me to pick two more people."

"Do you not believe that there are worthy candidates among the personnel of the SGC?"

O'Neill shot him a baleful look. "Too damn many kids eager to get themselves killed," he muttered. "Hammond's making me wait a month before he'll accept my resignation," he continued. "You hear anything about Carter, anything, you let me know."

"Many among the rebel Jaffa still have contact with brothers who have not been freed. I had hopes to journey off-world and conduct my own search," Teal'c confessed. His time among the Tau'ri had taught him much, among his lessons the fact that what the Tau'ri did not know, would not garner a reaction.

O'Neill shook his head. "Hammond's already said no. The only way I'm allowed through the gate is if I'm leading a team." O'Neill's eyes were flat, helpless, and lifeless. Teal'c understood General Hammond's reasoning. O'Neill's sense of duty and honor would push him to retrieve Major Carter at all costs, even his own life. However, if he was responsible for two other, innocent lives, then his recklessness might be tempered. It was something that Teal'c understood even as he did not agree with it.

"O'Neill, I—"

"T," he interrupted. "Ya gotta do what ya gotta do. Don't feel like you have to hang out here because of me. If you think you can help Carter, then by all means, go," he urged.

"And you, O'Neill?"

He shook his head. "I have some things to take care of here. Besides, eventually the Tok'ra will get word to Jacob and—"

"I understand," Teal'c said. O'Neill would take his responsibility of informing General Carter of his daughter's status most seriously. And once that task was complete, Teal'c knew that O'Neill would remove himself, seeking solitude as a penance for a perceived crime that existed in his mind only.

While Teal'c did concur with O'Neill's belated assessment that perhaps Major Carter had not been emotionally ready to participate in a dangerous mission, he also agreed with O'Neill's idea that the living did not cease living when one of their group perished and that the best way to honor a fallen comrade was to carry on the fight in their memory.

He knew that Daniel Jackson would not wish them to mourn forever. He would wish them to carry on the fight. To defeat the goa'uld and to free their slaves.

"Go. Find Carter," O'Neill urged. "And if you need some help.." He shrugged. "You might have to pick me up in a Teltac but…"

"Should I require assistance you shall be the fist one I contact," Teal'c said.

He met O'Neill's gaze then clasped his hand, well aware that it may be the last time he saw the man. It was most likely that his search for Major Carter would take him to the very depths of goa'uld space, a place where he himself was hunted and hated.

However, he could do no less. Major Carter was his  Blood Kin, and he could not allow her fate to remain unresolved.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Paria watched as the female slumped, again falling victim to Osiris' device. Each day her tolerance grew less and less and her spirit faded as the device sapped her will. Even now she stared with lifeless eyes and a resigned acceptance of her fate.

"This is a waste of time," Osiris said, turning impatiently to face him.

"Her will is very strong," Paria said.

"You admire her," she accused, her eyes glowing menacingly.

"Her fortitude, yes," he confessed. "I know of few who can withstand days of interrogation and not break. However," he said quickly as Osiris' eyes narrowed. "Her physical attributes leave much to be desired."

Paria knelt over the Tau'ri woman. She was lying crumpled on the deck, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow. "He face is too sharp and plain and her hair," He plucked at a lank strand. "It is truly horrible." He rolled the woman to her back, noting that she was still conscious even if barely so. "She is too thin and masculine, especially in her dress." He made a face frowning at her stained and torn clothes. "She is sackcloth to your silk," he said, getting to his feet. "Tin to your gold. A field flower to your cultured bloom."

He smiled, reaching out to touch her, sure that he had mollified her bad mood.

She batted his hand away. "Field flowers survive the harshest winters while cultured blooms rarely exist outside their protective environment," she said, her eyes again blazing. She pushed past him and pressed the controls, summoning Aneth.

Within seconds, the door opened and her First Prime stood before her. "My lord?"

"I require a symbiote," Osiris declared.

Aneth frowned, his dark eyes darting to back to Paria. "I do not understand."

"It is not necessary for you to understand," Osiris said. "I require a symbiote. Procure one for me."

Aneth looked helplessly at him and Paria stepped forward. "My love, perhaps if you would share your idea—"

Osiris spun. "This human vexes me," she said. "She should have revealed her secrets days ago, yet she continues to defy me. She shall not find defiance as easy, however, once she is taken by a symbiote." Osiris knelt down and dug her fingers into the woman's hair, lifting her head slightly. "A symbiote shall erase the stink of the Tok'ra that is upon her and then I shall be privy to it all, the secrets of the Tok'ra and the Tau'ri and whatever she was helping the Asgard with. It all shall be mine," she said, one hand coming down to trace the Tau'ri's grimy face.

"But, my lord, we have no symbiotes," Aneth said.

"Ridiculous," Osiris said, getting to her feet. "This ship is crawling with Jaffa."

"Some of which were killed by the Tau'ri," he said. "And still others that are very ill after being exposed to the coolant as you ordered," he said.

"They fell in service to their god, a fate every Jaffa should aspire to," Osiris said. Her eyes narrowed and she studied Aneth appraisingly. "Your symbiote—"

"My primta is very young," he said, shaking his head. "It is not ready to take a host." His voice shook and Paria saw fear in his eyes.

"Perhaps I should be the judge of that," Osiris said, stepping towards him.

Aneth backed away, clearly frightened. "My lord, please. There is not another primta to replace this one. Without it, I shall die."

"Again, a worthy fate for a Jaffa," she said, her eyes hardening. "Give me your symbiote or I shall take it."

"No, my lord. I beg of you." Aneth continued to back away, his hands held out beseechingly.

"Enough," Paria declared. Both Aneth and Osiris turned to look at him.

"You dare to question your god?" she demanded.

"I question in service TO my god," he said, stepping forward as Aneth maneuvered away from the pair. Osiris' eyes narrowed and he watched her left hand twitch as the contemplated whether or not to attack him. Her defiance sealed her fate. He raised his hand and shot her, using the small palm sized weapon that his lord had gifted him with.

Osiris cried out as she fell back, her hand going to the blackened hole in her chest. Paria dashed forward and removed the hand device from her, rendering her helpless and harmless.

"What are you doing?" Aneth demanded.

"Do not interfere," Paria warned.

"You dare—"

"Silence!" Paria yelled, interrupting Osiris. "Thousands of years ago, tiring of your ceaseless and meaningless cruelty, you were imprisoned for your crimes. Seth should have executed you. I am here to rectify that error."

He raised his left hand and focused his concentration, bringing the tool of his trade to life. The three beams of the ring glowed briefly before coalescing into one. Osiris gasped and tried to move away, her feeble struggles gaining her naught.

Within moments, she was dead, her body flopping lifelessly to the deck. His assignment complete, Paria got to his feet and turned to face Aneth. "You have killed her," the First Prime muttered, his eyes riveted upon the corpse.

"As she would have you," Paria said. "Justice has been served."

"What fate awaits me and my fellow Jaffa?" Aneth asked, accepting his fate.

"My lord Yu welcomes any who wish to join him," Paria said. "Those that do not will be taken to a nearby planet and released. They may join the ranks of any system lord they choose."

Aneth frowned, obviously taken aback. It was most unusual for a goa'uld to allow a Jaffa a choice, yet it was a policy that his lord advocated. There was much less dissension in the ranks and a smaller chance of a revolt if every soldier was there willingly.

"And her?" Aneth asked.

Paria turned, studying the Tau'ri. She was still on the floor where Osiris had left her and was beginning to stir. He was unsure what to do with her to be honest. His orders from Yu only concerned Osiris herself and her troops.

Ordinarily, prisoners were deemed the spoils of war and Paria's duty would be to let Yu decide her fate.

However, he was hesitant to do that. This woman had acquitted herself with honor, a trait that even some Jaffa did not possess. Never once had she begged or broken. "I do not know," he said honestly.

"Let me go," she whispered, opening her eyes to look at him.

"And why should I do that?" Paria asked, moving closer to her.

"Because Osiris was wrong, I really don't know anything." She lifted her head slightly, slowly raising herself on her arms. Each movement was slow and seemingly very painful to her.

"You were with the Asgard," he said.

"They use us," she said bitterly. "Every time their technologically superior butts get in a bind, they call on us to bail them out."

"Why do you continue to assist them?" he asked.

"Because my superiors order me to." She looked up at him, her eyes heavy with pain, and tinged with more than a little betrayal and hate. "They're so desperate for any crumbs the Asgard might send their way that they'll do anything to get it."

"And the symbiote that possessed you?" he asked, seeking to solve the mystery of her previous blending. He had sensed the trace within her the very first time he'd witnessed Osiris interrogate her, yet he could say nothing lest he reveal his own blended state, a fact that was kept from Osiris only by regular injections of a substance that masked the naqahdah in his blood.

"A Tok'ra that needed somewhere to hide. She took me without asking. She did not survive the experience." The woman's voice was cold as she pushed herself up to a sitting position.

Paria found himself reaching out to help her, surprised when she didn't push him away. "The Tau'ri are most resourceful and adept at escaping," Aneth said, cautiously stepping forward.

Paria glanced at him, then back at the female. She still had made no attempt to stand and Paria doubted that she was even capable at the moment.

"Perhaps we should take her back to her planet and deliver her to her kin," Paria suggested sarcastically.

"You're going to drop the Jaffa off that don't want to join you. Just let me go first," she said. "I'll gate home and no one will ever know."

"There are many who are loyal to Anubis," Aneth said. "I fear that few will actually wish to join Lord Yu. And it is even less likely that they would assist a Tau'ri in her escape."

"A Teltac then, or a glider," she said. "I can escape during the confusion of rounding up those loyal to Anubis."

"Resourceful," Aneth said.

"Indeed," Paria agreed, granting his consent. Her scenario was a most plausible one and one that would provide a logical and believable tale to tell his god.

"I shall ready a Teltac," Aneth said. "And I shall gather the Jaffa that I know will join Yu."

Paria nodded and the man hurried from the room. "What are you going to do with her?" the Tau'ri asked, motioning towards Osiris.

"Her corpse shall be proof that I completed my task. Why do you care? Your tormentor is dead and shall pain you no further."

"She is from my world. And the Tau'ri do not leave their own behind."

"Your companions did," he countered.

"They had no choice. They were under orders." Her words rang false to him, as though she was repeating a prepared speech or saying an expected phrase.

"And you?"

"Her name is Sarah Gardner. Osiris took her against her will, just like the Tok'ra did me. She deserves to go home, have a decent burial." She ignored his question, her gaze shifting to the corpse.

"I must provide my lord proof."

"I doubt he cares about the host. Wouldn't the symbiote be proof enough?" she asked.

Paria thought, considering her words. It would be far easier to convey just the symbiote back to his lord. And even if Lord Yu was angry, the acquisition of a hatak ship would ease his rancor.

With a sigh, he drew his knife and made his way over to Osiris, roughly turning the woman over. Feeling for the ridge of Osiris, he plunged his knife into the host's flesh, startled when he felt her flinch. "By the gods," he muttered, withdrawing his knife.

"What?"

"The host lives." He stared down at the woman, astonished to see blood welling from the wound.

"How is that possible?" The human joined him, crawling across the floor.

"I have never had a host survive the harakash," he said.

"It happens," she whispered, so softly that he could barely hear her.

He shot her a look, puzzled by her words. "Using the hand device weakened Osiris. It is possible that the host was strong enough to fight back," he said, searching for the only explanation he could think of.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I must provide proof." He reached out and threaded his fingers though the host's hair. He lowered the bloody knife, lining it up to deliver the woman mercy.

"Wait!" The Tau'ri stilled his hand. "She has a sarcophagus. Can't you remove the symbiote and put Sarah in it?"

Paria shook his head. "We do not have time. It is always guarded and such a healing takes many hours."

"Doesn't she have a healing device? You could stabilize her enough for me to get her home," she suggested.

"That too will take time. You are willing to risk much to save one who tormented you."

"Taking  her body home was a courtesy. I won't leave her here for Anubis or Yu to torture. If it's too great a risk, I'm sure there's a zat around here somewhere. You can just kill us both and disintegrate the bodies," she challenged him.

He looked at her and saw no fear in her eyes. In fact, if he had to describe it, he'd call the emotionless sparkling in the cool blue depths anticipation. Realizing that he was in an untenable situation, he released his hold on the host's head and applied himself to his grim task.

Slicing open the back of her neck he found the symbiote lying along her spine. Limp with death, it was easier than he anticipated to pull it from her body. He laid his knife and his grisly prize on the deck and reached for his healing device, grasping it with bloody fingers.

The device activated and he closed his eyes, concentrating on healing the gaping wound. After several minutes the device stopped and he opened his eyes. Osiris, no, more accurately the host's, back was smeared with drying blood but was whole, only a thin red line testifying to his actions. He rolled her over and quickly healed the wound on her chest as well." She may not survive," he warned. "She is very weak."

"I understand," the human said. "Thank you."

The door to the room opened and they both looked up as Aneth returned. "The ship is prepared and the way is clear," he reported, coming to a stop and staring at the three of them. "What has transpired?"

"The Tau'ri wishes to return the corpse to her kin," Paria said. "I have the proof that my lord requires." Paria gestured towards the blood smeared symbiote lying on the deck. "Assist the Tau'ri. I shall carry the carrion."

"I can—" the woman started to protest, stopping when he glared at her. He needed Aneth to be preoccupied with her. Hopefully it would prevent him from realizing that he was not carrying a corpse but a living woman. He only hoped that she would remain silent for the duration of their journey. "—would appreciate that," the Tau'ri said, intuiting his intentions.

She held up her hand and allowed Aneth to pull her up from the floor. She stumbled and Paria wasn't sure if it was for real or for effect.

They slowly made their way out of the room and into the corridor, all the while Paria strained his senses, half afraid that Aneth would betray them.

They reached the cargo bay without incident and Paria followed them onto the ship, depositing the host in the hold.

"I do not know how long your journey is but the ship contains several days of rations," Aneth said as the woman sat heavily in the pilot's seat. She nodded, studying the controls.

"In a few moments the bay doors will open," Paria said. "I would suggest that you immediately jump to hyperspace to complete your escape. You can plot a correct course later," he coached, not wanting to leave behind any sort of trail that he would have to follow.

"I will. Thank you."

He nodded and moved close enough to her that he could whisper. "Do not make me regret my weakness," he warned.

"I won't," she promised.

He left the Teltac, meeting up with Aneth. "You do realize that to preserve my place with Yu, I should kill you," he said, not looking at the man.

"And I should have immediately reported Osiris' murder to Anubis," Aneth countered as the door to the Teltac slid shut and the craft lifted off the deck.

"As long as we fully understand each other," Paria said, feeling the first stirrings of kinship with the man. He still did not trust him – in fact Paria was hard pressed to think of any whom he fully trusted – but Aneth had honor. And honor was a trait Paria could respect.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Teltac dropped out of hyperspace and Sam reached out, using the console to steady herself. She was free. She could hardly believe it. The whole situation was so surreal that it almost seemed to be a dream or desperation induced fantasy.

She looked around the ship, half expecting a Jaffa to step out from a hidden corner or for a hatak ship to appear in front of her. Hide. That's what the goa'uld told her to do, hide.

A shaft of pain tore through her head and she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. God her head had never hurt this much. Not even when the Ashrak had tried to kill her all those years ago.

Ashrak. That's what the goa'uld had been. He'd killed Osiris. And Sarah. Sarah.

Remembering her passenger, she opened her eyes and looked back towards the hold. She could just make out the shape of Sarah lying in the far corner of the ship. Was she still alive? Sam remembered that she'd been hurt and barely breathing. What if she was dead?

Driven by concern, Sam pushed herself up out of the chair, her fingers digging into the back as the room spun crazily. Her stomach turned and she breathed slowly, oddly grateful that she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. At least she was spared the indignity of puking all over the place.

She made her way over to the back of the ship, slowly walking along the walls so that she wouldn't fall flat on her face. Her knees shook and she stopped for a moment, leaning her head against the cool bulkhead. Her eyes closed, she kept moving, finally arriving at Sarah's side.

She knelt on the floor, reaching out to take the woman's wrist. Her fingers found Sarah's pulse, slow but steadily thrumming under her skin. "We need to get you home, don't we?" Sam asked, wincing when the sound of her own voice made her head ache all the more. "Course, Earth is…I wonder how far away Earth is," Sam thought out loud. "It took us two days to reach Heimdal's lab and…how far away did you take me?"

Sarah didn't respond and Sam sighed, cupping her head with her hand. "How the hell an I even plot a course when I don't know where I am?" she asked, a surge of anger welling up in her breast.

It was all Osiris' fault she was in this mess. Osiris' and Colonel O'Neill's. Mister 'Let's go kiss up to the Asgard.'

When you get right down to it, the Asgard were no more helpful than the Tok'ra and just as likely to use them for their own purposes. But the colonel liked the Asgard, so there were no snide remarks, no muttered comments or off color jokes.

Helping the Asgard was great. He'd do anything for the Asgard. Where the hell were they when Daniel had needed their help? Where the hell were they when Osiris had taken her and—A sob forced its way up and Sam's hand slipped down to cover her mouth.

She pushed the memories away, burying them deep inside. Breathing deeply, she struggled to calm herself, finally opening her eyes to stare down at the body of her tormentor.

Sarah's eyes were closed and she looked peaceful, pretty even. An image of her face flashed before Sam's eyes, the woman's mouth twisted in a snarl, her eyes glowing as she raised her hand to torment her some more.

Sam cried out and fell backwards, trying to get away from the memory.

The harsh movement jarred her head and her eyes flew open. "The sooner I get to Earth the sooner I can get you the hell away from me," she muttered.

Sam struggled to her feet, staggering drunkenly up to the cockpit. Almost falling into the chair, she reached out to plot the course then stopped. "Where am I going?" she asked, the low thrumming of the engines not giving her an answer.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Teal'c stepped down off the dais, pausing a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dim light. It was morning on the Alpha Site and late evening here. Torches dotted the clearing around the Stargate, their flickering light a welcome source of illumination.

"Teal'c, I am glad you have come," Rak'nor said, stepping forth to greet him.

"It is I who is grateful that you notified me," Teal'c replied, reaching out to clasp the man's hand.

"How could I not?" Rak'nor said, motioning for Teal'c to follow him. "Even without your message, I would have found the situation odd."

They walked towards the camp, their boots making a soft crunching sound on the gravel. This planet had changed little in the past few months since it had become home to K'Tano's abandoned Jaffa.

Major Carter had discovered it many moons ago and it had been considered as a possible candidate for an Alpha Site. However, after the Tau'ri had discovered several large predators they had chosen another planet.

Fortunately, the Jaffa were not so easily intimidated by fauna. Given her history with this planet, it did not surprise Teal'c in the slightest that she had returned here.

"Major Carter is very fortunate that she made such an impression upon K'Tano's people," Rak'nor stated, leading Teal'c through the maze of tents. "Especially given the company that she was in."

Rak'nor stopped in front of a tent, turning to face Teal'c but not pulling back the flap. "Of what do  you speak?"

"I did not dare to send this in the message. It could be a great boon for the Jaffa…and perhaps the Tau'ri." He pulled back the flap. "Presuming that they are appropriately grateful to be getting back two of their own."

Teal'c stepped into the tent his eyes widening at the sight of not one but two women. Both were lying on cots and one was guarded by two Jaffa bearing staff weapons. A Jaffa female sat between them and she looked up, getting to her feet.

"This is Teal'c," Rak'nor introduced. "He is friend of that one." He pointed at Carter.

"I am Cozad," she introduced. "I am midwife and the closest thing to a healer that we have."

"They are injured?" Teal'c asked.

"The teltac was not shot down," Rak'nor said. "It landed on its own, even if it was not a good landing, some distance from the Stargate. A group of hunters witnessed its landing. When the passengers would not disembark, the hunters entered by force. One of them recognized Major Carter and bore the two of them here. They then notified me and I you."

"Major Carter bears no obvious physical wounds, however her clothing testifies to harsh treatment and, I believe, being healed in a sarcophagus," Cozad said. "As does Osiris. Major Carter has woken only once in her time with me and that was to state that her head pained her."

"And Osiris?"

"There is a weakness in her that I cannot fathom," Cozad said. "Also, her symbiote is gone. What you see before you is simply the host."

Teal'c nodded, sparing Sarah Gardner a glance before returning his attention to his teammate. Major Carter was unconscious, her head tossing fitfully upon the pillow. He could see that her face was thinner and marked with grime and bruises. A cloth covered her forehead and he removed it, revealing the tell take red mark of a ribbon weapon.

Briefly, he closed his eyes, not welcoming the confirmation of his suspicions. She had been tortured and most likely by Osiris.

He glanced back at Sarah Gardner, wondering precisely how the woman had been freed from her goa'uld. And how had she come to be in a teltac with her former captor? When she awoke, Major Carter would indeed have a tale to tell.

Major Carter stirred slightly and Teal'c turned his attention back to his friend. "Major Carter?" he asked, cupping the side of her face. She moaned and muttered something, her brow knitting in a frown. "Major Carter, it is I, Teal'c." Her breathing quickened and her head tossed from side to side, as if she was trapped in a nightmare.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open and her hands flashed out, pushing him away. "NO!" she cried, struggling to get off the cot.

She rolled to the ground, her movements frantic and desperate. Rak'nor and Cozad stepped forward, stopping when Teal'c held up his hand. He moved to grab Carter, pulling her close.

He knew that his hold would likely frighten her more, but he was afraid that she would harm herself struggling to get away. "You are safe," he said, trying to hold her with a minimum of force. "You are free. No one will harm you."

Still she fought against him, her breath coming in sobbing gasps. "I have a tincture," Cozad said.

"No. No. No. No," Carter muttered, her hands pushing ineffectually against Teal'c's chest.

"Major Carter! Samantha!" he said loudly, desperate to capture her attention.

Surprisingly, his voice penetrated her panic and her feeble flailing stilled. She opened her eyes looking at him for the first time. "Teal'c?" He nodded. She frowned.

"You're…you…"

"I am real," he said, anticipating her words. "And you are among friends."

She stared for a second before her eyes closed and she slumped against him. He tightened his hold, gently stroking her back as Rak'nor and Cozad stepped back. He felt her fingers dig into his shirt and he remained silent for a few moments, allowing her, and him, a chance to savor their reunion.

"Are you injured?" he finally asked, half afraid that she had come to harm during her struggles. Her head shook slowly and he sighed softly.

"My head hurts," she mumbled into his chest.

"I am sure that Doctor Frasier possesses a remedy," he said, glad to hear her voice.

She nodded slowly. "I wanna go home."

"Then you shall." He looked to Rak'nor, nodding as the man motioned toward Sarah Gardner. Teal'c slowly got to his feet, pulling Major Carter to hers as Rak'nor gathered the unconscious Sarah Gardner into his arms. Teal'c acknowledged that it may be easier if he too carried his charge, however he also knew that she was like O'Neill in a way, she placed great value in returning home under her own power.

Major Carter made no attempt to stand on her own, so Teal'c altered his stance, allowing her to remain at his side. Her arm slipped around his waist and he did the same, prepared to assume all her weight should her legs crumble.

They began a slow, shuffling walk to the stargate and Teal'c allowed himself the first glimmer of hope. Despite his worst fears, his friend was alive. She was warm and breathing and in his arms and he could not wait to reveal his fortuitous news to O'Neill.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

George Hammond walked into the infirmary not surprised to see a few people gathered. Fortunately, most of them, upon seeing him, suddenly remembered that they had duty stations to attend to and left the room.

"Teal'c," he said, coming to stand beside the one person that didn't leave. In a way, George couldn't blame them. It wasn't everyday that a member of the command basically returned from the dead.

"General Hammond." Teal'c got to his feet. "Doctor Frasier should return momentarily."

"Return?"

"She is seeing to Sarah Gardner's comfort in one of the private rooms." George nodded, he remembered that request. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, his people had experience dealing with ex-hosts.

George heard footsteps and turned, watching the doctor as she hurried into the room.

"Sir—"

"I thought I'd save you coming to my office," he said. Normally he didn't intrude upon her space. She was the base doctor, and one of the best ones he'd served with and he respected her abilities and judgment.

But he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that Samantha Carter was no regular member of his command. She was like family to him, a favorite niece or even surrogate daughter. He'd known her off and on for years, his friendship with Jacob meaning that he'd watched her grow up, changing from a young gangly teen to a self-assured woman and a damn fine officer.

George still remembered that horrible day when SG-1 had returned minus their third member. He remembered the pained and flat look in Jack O'Neill's eyes, the defeated slump of the man's shoulders.

Teal'c, while more stoic, was no less affected by his teammate's loss. In an instant, George knew that he was witnessing the worst kind of history. An end of an era and the that things would never be the same again.

"Sir," Frasier invited, motioning for both of them to join her in her office. She sat behind her desk while George and Teal'c both took seats. "First of all, Miss Gardner is physically stable. The MRI confirms that Osiris is gone and the damage caused by the removal of the symbiote has been repaired by some means. However, just like Sam a few years ago, she has some emotional issues. She's very traumatized and I believe that she will need some therapy to come to terms with her ordeal."

"Does she remember information from her time as Osiris?" George asked.

Frasier nodded. "Most likely. Although it's far too early to guess how detailed that information will be." She leaned forward. "Sir, I'm sure the NID is very interested in debriefing Miss Gardner, however I do have to warn you that if heavy handed methods are used, they're likely to result in far from favorable results."

"And Major Carter?"

"Sam's a little different. The MRI on her came up empty as well, so she's not a host. There is, however, evidence that she may have been healed in a sarcophagus, so I don't have an accurate picture of all that she may  have endured."

"How do you come to that conclusion, Doctor?" George asked.

"Her shirt was torn and there were blood stains on her clothing, but there wasn't a matching wound," she said.

"I too saw this injury," Teal'c said. "Such a wound is often fatal."

George nodded. "Anything else?"

"We believe that Osiris used the ribbon device, probably multiple times. The CT scan seems to indicate some irritation in her brain."

"Irritation?"

"The ribbon weapon inflicts pain upon its victims by inflaming the brain. Usually, this inflammation is temporary and subsides relatively quickly. However, prolonged exposure could result in permanent damage," she said.

"It takes skill to use the weapon and not kill the victim," Teal'c said. "Many times I witnessed Apophis fail in his attempts."

"Will she recover?" George asked.

Janet nodded. "I believe so, with time. She will, however, likely suffer from migraines for weeks or even months. Depending on their severity, it could be enough to keep her out of the field for a while."

George nodded, relieved that it was nothing worse. "How long do you plan to keep her here?"

Janet shook her head. "A day or two. I do want to monitor her condition, make sure that the inflammation is stable. Also, it would probably be best, when she does go home, that she's not alone for a while. Migraine headaches can be debilitating and until we know precisely how hers will effect her, someone should be with her, just in case."

"I'm sure something can be arranged," George said. He got to his feet, Janet and Teal'c following suit. "Keep me updated if there are any changes."

"I will, sir."

George left her office, Teal'c following him. "Have you been successful in notifying Colonel O'Neill of Major Carter's return?" Teal'c asked.

George shook his head. "There is no response at his home or on his cell phone. I even sent someone by his house but no one was home. I am aware that the colonel took Carter's loss rather hard, especially so soon after Doctor Jackson's…whatever happened to him. And I would like nothing more than to give him some good news, but I have to find him first," George said, more than a little frustrated by the man's disappearance.

To say that Jack had taken Carter's death hard was an understatement. It was as if a part of him had died too, that the woman's loss was simply one loss too many and more than Jack could overcome.

"I may know where to find O'Neill," Teal'c said.

"Really? Where?"

"I would rather not say. General Hammond, would you grand me leave to see out O'Neill?"

"I'll get you a driver—"

"Daniel Jackson taught me how to operate one of your vehicles," Teal'c interrupted. "It would perhaps be best if I undertook this mission alone."

George nodded, ignoring the niggling voice in his brain that reminded him that technically Teal'c was not supposed to be outside unescorted. "Bring him back. Even if he is still going through with his plans to resign, he needs to know that Carter is alive."

Forty-five minutes later, Teal'c maneuvered the vehicle to the curb, careful to maintain adequate distance between it and the large truck that was already there. He did not know if he was pleased or dismayed to have succeeded in his mission. It was most efficient that he'd divined O'Neill's location in his first attempt, however the location was a most disconcerting one.

Teal'c got out of the car, careful to secure it. It was indeed a good thing that he had come alone.

He made his way up the short walk and knocked on the door, pushing it open when he realized that it wasn't locked. "O'Neill?"

"T? What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for  you," Teal'c answered, walking into Major Carter's living room. The home was quiet and Teal'c could smell the sharp odors of cleaning agents. O'Neill was seated on the sofa, empty beer bottles on the table testifying that he had been here for quite some time.

"She's dead, isn't she?" he asked.

"Why do you believe that?" Teal'c asked.

O'Neill held up a bottle and looked at it for  a second before taking a large drink. "I can see it in  your face."

Teal'c didn't answer, instead he looked around the room. He had rarely been in Major Carter's home but he remembered it as slightly more cluttered. She usually had mail or magazines scattered on the coffee table, along with a publication listing the offerings of the local television stations.

He knew that she rarely cooked but also knew that she enjoyed the aromas of scented candles. Teal'c did not smell those, instead he detected, above the scent of cleaning products, the faint aroma of rotted food and damp soil.

"You are sanitizing Major Carter's home?" he asked, indulging himself in seeking some insight into his friend's behavior.

O'Neill snorted. "Sanitize, there's a word." Teal'c frowned. "Hey, I have a question for you," O'Neill said, getting to his feet. "What do you think of a scholarship?"

"I am not familiar with that term."

"Scholarship, it's a gift, usually something a student earns with high grades or something. I was thinking – providing that Jacob doesn't mind – that Carter might like that. We can sell her stuff and set something up."

"Why would you wish to dispose of Major Carter's possessions?"

"I know I should check with Jacob and it's nothing we can do right away. There's a ton of paperwork and, hell she might even have a will. I should look into that," O'Neill rambled.

Teal'c frowned, not remembering the last time he'd seen the man so discomfited. "I do not believe that Major Carter would approve of you disposing of her personal effects," he finally said.

Something flashed across O'Neill's eyes, a glimmer of emotion that was quickly hidden. "I suppose Hammond could do it," he finally said. "Or maybe Doc. I just thought that both of them would be too busy and all and, heck, I have nothing but time and—"

"You believe that Major Carter will not return," Teal'c said, his friend's actions finally making sense.

"It's been a month, Teal'c."

"The universe is a large and unpredictable place.  And the human will to survive is a formidable force."

"Osiris has had her for a month," O'Neill said. "If she's lucky, she died a long time ago."

"And if she is not so lucky?"

O'Neill looked away but not before Teal'c caught a glimpse of horror in his eyes. He was aware of O'Neill's time as a captive in his youth, and he knew that those memories haunted him even to this day.

"She's dead, Teal'c," he insisted.

"There are those that consider Daniel Jackson to be dead."

"Daniel's different."

"I do not see how, both are gone."

"You saw what happened to Daniel. You saw the…whatever the hell it was."

"I did."

"So what? You think Carter went all glowy too?"

"I do not believe that ascension is beyond Major Carter's grasp, however she will not attain that state until her death. And Doctor Frasier is confident that she will make a full recovery," Teal'c said, unable to maintain the subterfuge any longer.

He watched as his words penetrated O'Neill's comprehension. Shock, disbelief and finally hope danced across his features. "What?" he demanded.

"Earlier today I received a message. A teltac containing two Tau'ri females landed on the planet claimed by K'Tano's people. Major Carter and Sarah Gardner – who has been freed of Osiris – were inside. Both have been returned to the SGC and both will survive."

"This—" O'Neill looked at his watch. "Why the hell didn't someone call me?" He got to his feet, nearly dropping his beer bottle to the floor in his haste.

"You are not at your home and your cellular device has been turned off. I told General Hammond that I would find and retrieve you."

O'Neill ignored his explanation, his hands searching his pockets. "Keys, where are my keys?"

"I have a vehicle," Teal'c said, ignoring the man's keys that were lying in a corner of the sofa. Although he trusted O'Neill with his life, he did not presently hold much faith in his ability to safely maneuver a vehicle at the moment.

"Fine." O'Neill held out his hand, wanting Teal'c to give him the keys. "Let's—"

"I shall drive," Teal'c stated, nearly avoiding O'Neill's questing hand.

"T?"

"Major Carter would be more incensed if we perished before we could welcome her home."

"Fine," O'Neill capitulated. "Let's just go, huh?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack made his way into the SGC, grateful for both his Jaffa escort and his personal reputation of being a pain in the ass. They were probably the reason he hadn't been stopped or called to task for his flouting of security procedures.

"Did she say how she escaped?" he asked, stepping out of one elevator and switching to the one that would take him down to the SGC.

"She spoke very little," Teal'c said.

O'Neill nodded. "What about Sarah Gardener? Did the Tok'ra take Osiris out of her?"

"She did not say. Nor did Sarah Gardner. I doubt that the Tok'ra were involved since I find it highly unlikely that they would allow them to keep the Teltac. I also find it unlikely that they would allow Sarah Gardner to return to Earth before being thoroughly interrogated."

"They're nothing if not predictable," Jack said, agreeing with Teal'c's bleak assessment of the Tok'ra. Flattering or not, it was probably close to right.

The elevator stopped and they got out, Jack leading the way to the infirmary. "Colonel O'Neill, long time no see," Frasier said, moving to intercept them.

"Doc, how is she?" Jack asked, in no mood for pleasantries. He tried to gague things off Frasier's look. If someone was gravely ill, she rarely smiled and looked distinctly stressed.

"Resting comfortably," she said.

"Resting comfortably, what does that mean?"

"Exactly what I said. She's asleep and resting comfortably."

"Teal'c said something about brain something," he said, gesturing towards his head. He wanted information, needed information. In fact, about the only thing that kept him from picking the petite doctor up and pushing her aside was the fact that she was relaxed and smiling. If she wasn't worried, he wasn't worried.

"As near as we've been able to determine, she was exposed to the ribbon weapon on a near daily basis." She kept talking, multisyllable words spilling from her mouth, but Jack didn't hear them. His mind was deluged with images.

A month. Osiris had had her for almost a month. Thirty days of torture. Thirty days of pain – of fear. Thirty days of horror all because he'd just HAD to go on a mission. Had to get away, to find something, anything, to help him forget.

"We'll have to monitor her closely, see how the inflammation shrinks, but I think, given that she's healthy, she should make a full recovery."

Jack nodded, focusing on her last words. "Can we see her?" he asked, his question more a courtesy than anything else.

"Yes. She just got back from the CT scanner a while ago and I gave her a sedative to help her sleep.  She won't be waking up for several hours." She led them over to the far bed, pausing just outside the curtains. "So if someone decides to stay, it will probably be tomorrow before she's awake," she warned. "Don't terrorize my nurses."

She walked back to her office and Jack reached out, his fingers digging into the thin material of the curtain. His eagerness faded away like sand through his fingers and dread rushed in to fill the void. All of  a sudden he was afraid. He couldn't see her. Couldn't face her. Couldn't—

Teal'c stepped past him and pushed the curtain aside. Jack had no choice but to follow him, moving to Carter's bedside. She was asleep, just like Doc had warned, one hand lying peacefully on her stomach.

She was quite a bit thinner, which didn't surprise Jack. He doubted that Osiris cared much about her captive's nutritional needs. An IV fed into the back of one hand and Jack reached out, closing his eyes briefly when his fingers encountered warm flesh.

"I shouldn't have had her go," he muttered, studying the monitors hooked up to Sam. He certainly was no doctor, but he had an idea which numbers were good and which were bad.

"I recall no order," Teal'c said.

"That's not what I meant."

"Nor do I recall any coercion."

"Teal'c, I decided to go."

"As did Major Carter."

Jack shook his head, releasing Sam's hand. "You don't get it. The second I decided to go, she was going." Teal'c frowned and Jack sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. "If she'd have said no and stayed behind it was as good as saying that she didn't trust me. She wouldn't do that." Jack looked back down at Sam. "Even if she hated my guts, she wouldn't have done that," he said softly.

"You believed that participating in the mission was a good thing, did  you not?"

"Hell, Teal'c, all we were supposed to do was go pick up some Asgard egg head. We weren't supposed to raid a hatak ship or take on a goa'uld. It was supposed to be a nice, simple mission," he ranted. Something to break up the monotony, to get them off world and pull Carter out of her funk. She probably didn't think he'd noticed, but he'd seen her. He'd known about the sleepless nights and red rimmed eyes. He knew that she'd spent a day at Daniel's apartment, cleaning out his refrigerator and watering his plants.

He knew that she'd mourned for Daniel. That she'd taken to spending time in his office, lurking in there as if she'd expected him to walk in at any moment, all healthy and healed.

Anyone with half a brain would have seen the grief in her eyes and Jack had just a bit more than half a brain. She probably thought that he didn't care, that he was a callous and unfeeling bastard.

But what she didn't get was that he didn't grieve because he didn't care. He didn't grieve because he knew that Daniel wasn't dead.

"Is it not the simple missions that are often the most arduous?"

Jack snorted. "Yeah."

They sat in silence for several minutes, content to simply set there and watch her, gradually accepting that she was real, she was alive and that she was going to be ok. "She will slumber for many more hours," Teal'c finally said, his hand resting on Jack's shoulder.

"I know."

"You wish to be here when she awakens?"

"Yep."

Teal'c pulled a chair over and folded his large frame into it. "Then I shall accompany  you."

"Thanks," Jack said, inwardly grateful for the company. Normally, he preferred not to have any witnesses when he and Carter talked. It was just easier that way.

But Teal'c wasn't just a witness, he was a friend. And a friend that Jack trusted with his life. Which, in the grand scheme of things, made trusting him with a secret to be not all that much.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam slowly became aware. Familiar things creeping into her senses. Cool air, the sharp scent of antiseptics, a monotone beeping. She flexed her fingers, feeling the soft but starched cotton she was lying on.

Infirmary, her mind supplied. But she couldn't be there. Could she? She tried to remember. The cell was cold and quiet. So quiet that all she could  usually hear was the sound  of her own breathing, the plop of her own tears or blood hitting the deck.

Osiris bridge was cold as well, but not quiet. There were always people there, Jaffa manning their posts. Some of them enjoying the show. Smiling when she screamed, betting amongst themselves how long she would last.

A sensation crept down her spine and she stiffened. No. Not again.

"Major Carter, you do not need to fear." She heard a voice and she stilled, keeping her eyes closed. Sometimes they would leave her alone if they thought she was unconscious.

"Carter, you're at the SGC. You're safe." She heard someone else, a different voice, familiar. "Open your eyes, Major. Don't make me make that an order."

She toyed with ignoring it. It wasn't the first time she'd imagined his voice. She'd dreamed about it before, months ago in an abandoned hospital in Seattle, during another desperate and solitary time when her dreams had been her only comfort and her only hope.

"Stop playing possum and open your eyes." A warm hand wrapped itself around her arm, applying gentle pressure. "We're real. And if you weren't being so damned stubborn, you could see for yourself." She slowly opened her eyes, blinking to make them focus. "There she is," he said, smiling at her. "Knew you were in there somewhere."

"Colonel?"

"In the flesh," he said, his hand sliding down her arm to grasp her hand. "You're at the SGC. It's over. You're safe," he reassured her.

She blinked slowly, the sedative Janet had given her making her drowsy. "My head hurts," she muttered, feeling the need to say something.

"Yeah, that's gonna happen for a while," he said. "Look, why don't you go back to sleep. When you wake up we'll bring you some breakfast."

"Ok," she muttered, obligingly closing here eyes. It seemed like only minutes later when she opened them again, finding the chairs beside her bed empty.

"I thought you were going to sleep all day."

Sam looked over. "Janet."

Her friend was standing at her bedside, a chart in her hands. "How do you feel?" she asked, reaching out to feel Sam's forehead.

"Ok. What time is it?"

"1300. And before you ask, I just chased Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c away." Sam nodded, watching as Janet manipulated the controls, raising the head of the bed. "This should help clear your head," she said, handing Sam a paper cup with a straw sticking through the lid. "I was going to wake you up pretty soon." Sam took the cup and sipped, drinking a bit deeper when she recognized the taste of Diet Coke. "Take it slow," Janet warned.

Sam lowered the cup. "That does taste good."

"Figured it would." Sam took another drink and Janet pulled up a chair before closing the curtain. She sat down, the chart in her lap. Sam tensed, aware that her friend was temporarily gone and her doctor was in attendance. "We know about the ribbon device and there's obviously a lot of bruises and minor cuts. Is there anything else I need to know about?"

"Else?" Sam asked, stalling.

"Sam," Janet chided. "You know what I mean. And you know that I can't treat you properly if I don't know everything."

Sam closed her eyes. "A lot of it's a blur," she said. She opened her eyes, staring at the cup in her hands, one finger fiddling with the straw. "I don't know how often she--sometimes it felt like minutes in between, other times days."

"Did they do anything else? Janet asked softly. "Hurt you in any other way."

Sam shook her head, still staring at the paper cup. It was an odd mix of tan and brown, a pattern printed on its mottled surface. If she turned it just right she could make out a date. 1997. Did that  mean that the cup had been manufactured in 1997 or was that when someone created the geometric pattern that decorated it?

"When Teal'c brought you back, your shirt was torn," Janet pressed. "There was a large blood stain."

Sam's hand crept up, settling on her stomach. "There was a Jaffa. He said we killed his brother. He wanted revenge," she said slowly, feeling again the hot burning as the knife sliced into her middle, the warm wetness as her blood spilled over her fingers. She remembered lying there, watching the puddle congeal on the deck plates.

"He stabbed  you?"

"Yes."

"And then they healed it?"

"No. I died."

"What?"

Sam looked over at her friend. "I bled to death. I remember it happening."

"But—"

"Osiris put me in her sarcophagus," Sam explained.

"How many times?"

"Just the once."

"Ok, and—"

"Nothing else," Sam said, emphasizing the word. She knew what Janet was hinting at. Had she been sexually assaulted. "When can I go home?" she asked, not wanting to linger on the topic.

"Sam?"

"There's nothing wrong with me." Janet gave her a look, staring until Sam looked away. "Nothing physically wrong," she amended.

"That's still open to debate," Janet said. "I'll tell you what. I want another CT scan, especially since you're awake. Why don't we see how that goes and go from there?"

"Fine," Sam agreed, well aware that she really didn't have a choice.

"Good." Janet smiled, getting to her feet. "I'm sure you're starving. How about some lunch?"

"How about a shower?" she countered, grimacing at just how grimy she felt. The nurses may have given her a bit of a sponge bath but she still felt filthy.

"How about both? You go take a shower, I'll get you some lunch sent down and we'll go for the CT after that's done."

"Only if you cut the apron strings." Sam held out her hand so that Janet could remove the IV.

Fifteen minutes later, a band aid on the back of her hand and a robe wrapped around her pajamas, Sam made her way to the locker room. There was a shower closer to the infirmary, one that didn't require her to traipse through the halls in her pajamas and slippers, but she hadn't wanted to use that one.

She wanted her locker and her shampoo and her body wash. And, even more importantly, some underwear and her fatigues. Despite Janet's proclamation, she had every intention of going home tonight, and wearing her uniform was a step in the right direction.

As she walked, she was greeted by her co-workers. A few of them, apparently not aware of what had happened, frowning at her attire. A few others, greeting her with knowing glances and even a couple offering to help her make a jail break.

It felt good to be home, every greeting making her feel more at ease. In no small way, it felt good to be missed. And the camaraderie eased her apprehension. Being teased was normal and she craved normalcy.

Fortunately, the locker room was empty and she locked the door behind her, taking a moment to relish the privacy. Now that she was alone, she felt like she could finally relax. The smile that she'd pasted on her face slowly faded and she pushed a shaky hand through her hair.

She just needed a little privacy, a few minutes to regain her composure. Home, she was home. Everything was going to be ok now.

Looking at the clock on the wall she realized that she didn't have long before Janet would come looking for her. She made her way across the locker room. She'd just get a quick shower and—

She stopped cold, her eyes riveted on her locker. Where the hell was her stuff? The top shelf, where she'd kept all her toiletries was bare.  She pulled open the drawer in the bottom and found only more empty space. Quickly flipping through the hanging clothes she found everything that was hers was gone. Her towel, her favorite gym clothes, the package of tampons she kept in the corner for emergencies. Even her name was gone.

'He's gone. We got work to do.'

"Son of a bitch," she growled, her anger growing by the second. So that was how he felt. Just write her off, clean out her stuff and go about his business. For nothing. It'd all been for nothing. She'd stayed alive for what? No one cared. Hell, apparently no one had even been looking. Oops, lost a major. That's ok, there's plenty more where it came from.

What if they'd done the same to her house? Maybe that was why Janet didn't want her to leave. She was trying to figure out how to say that Sam had nowhere to go.

Yanking off her robe, Sam pulled the pajamas off and put on the fatigues, not even caring if she had underwear or socks. Hell, that discomfort was nothing compared to what she'd experienced in the past few weeks.

She'd just go and see for herself. Presuming her spare keys were still in her lab, presuming she still HAD a lab.

She wouldn't depend on any of them – not anymore. She'd just take care of herself, which was what she should have been doing all alone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What is Miss Gardner's condition?" George asked as Doctor Frasier took her seat.

"All things considered, not too bad," she reported. "There's the obvious physical ramifications of her body returning to its pre-symbiote state. Her immune system is likely to be weak for some time and she's going to have to get used to being in control of her own body. It's her mental state that I'm actually more concerned with. She doesn't remember how Osiris died."

"How is that possible?"

"I'd have to ask Major Carter for confirmation, presuming that she was a witness, but all Miss Gardner remembers is one of her followers shooting her with some weapon, then waking up here. She has no idea how Osiris died or how he was removed. Those unanswered questions are causing her some anxiety."

"Your suggestion?"

"Therapy obviously. Also, I think it could be beneficial if, when she makes it, Miss Gardner could have access to the parts of Major Carter's report that gives the details of Osiris' death and removal."

"Why can't she just talk to the major?"  Hammond asked.

"That would be the preference however," Frasier paused, taking a breath. "If I may be frank, sir?"

"Of course."

"I only dealt with Osiris once and I have to remind myself that Miss Gardner is no longer the host that tried to throw me through a wall," she said, grimacing.

"Has Major Carter expressed any hostility towards Miss Gardner?" he asked. He was a bit taken aback by the doctor's admission, although, if he was honest, it didn't surprise him. He couldn't imagine that he'd be too fond of someone who'd tried to kill him, not to mention a person who'd held him prisoner and tortured him for the better part of a month.

Then again, Carter had brought Gardner home when she very well could have just let the woman rot.

"Actually, General, Sam hasn't even asked about her," Frasier said.

Hammond sighed. "Why don't you talk to Carter first. See if she would be willing to talk to Miss Gardner. If not, we'll go from there," he said, seeking a compromise.

Ordinarily he wouldn't dream of giving a civilian a mission report, however given the unique nature of the SGC, established rules often needed a bit of tweaking to work.

There was a knock on the door and George looked up, wondering who was interrupting his meeting. The door opened and Colonel O'Neill stuck his head in. "My apologies, sir, but I need to ask the doc something."

George waved him in. "Our business is nearly completed anyway," he said, not failing to notice the man's attire. It wasn't often that he got to see his people out of uniform and Jack's jeans, button down shirt and sandals definitely qualified as 'out of uniform'.

Any other time he would have made a comment or two, simply to see how Jack would react, but given that the  man was a couple of weeks away from the end of his terminal leave, George stayed silent.

He hated like hell to lose O'Neill. The man may be a total pain in the ass, brash, cocky, irreverent and irascible.  But he was also a damn fine officer and one hell of an asset to this command.

Still, it hadn't been a surprise two weeks ago when Jack had walked into this office and handed George a neatly typed resignation. He knew that Jack – and the rest of his team – had taken Doctor Jackson's death hard. And losing Carter so soon after only made things worse.

While he hated to lose the man's experience and expertise, George also knew that he couldn't begrudge Jack his decision. He'd more than earned the right to live his life.

"She should be back by now," Frasier said, looking at her watch.

"Doctor?" George asked, slightly lost.

"It's Major Carter, sir," she said. "She woke up a while ago and wanted to take a shower while she waited for me to get her some lunch." She turned back to O'Neill. "Did you check with Lieutenant Rush?" she asked. "Sam still hadn't come back when I came down for this meeting so I told the Lieutenant to keep an eye out for her."

"The lieutenant's who sent me down here," Jack said. "She said Carter still hasn't come back."

"We can continue our discussion later," Hammond interrupted.

"Thank you, sir," Frasier said, getting to her feet.

"Sir," Jack acknowledged as he stepped aside to let the doctor pass.

"I'll call the front gate," George offered. "Make sure that she hasn't left."

Jack walked down the halls, deliberately slowing his pace in deference to the doctor's shorter legs. "I'm sorry, sir. I should have stayed with her," Frasier apologized, her heels clicking on the cement floors.

"What were you supposed to do? Scrub her back?" he asked, stabbing the button to call the elevator. "Look, Doc, it's no biggie. Hell, it could all be a wild goose chase. We'll go up and she'll be sitting there chowing down on whatever you got her for lunch."

She nodded as the elevator arrived. They both stepped aside to let the personnel get off the car before they got on and Jack pushed the button for level 21.

"I know, sir. And I'm probably just overreacting. I just remember a few months ago after that whole Orlin bit and how she was mad at us for weeks and—"

Jack frowned, looking down at her. "Why would she be mad?"

"Why else would she disappear without saying something?" she asked.

Jack sighed. "Trust me, Doc. Sometimes solitude is all you want," he said. Teal'c had filled him in on what he knew and  Jack had read the doctor's report while he'd waited for Carter to wake up, so he had an idea all she'd suffered during the last month.

But Jack also knew that Osiris had a sarcophagus, and because of that it was entirely possible that a whole laundry list of injuries had been inflicted and healed. Injuries that left behind no trace, no physical trace anyway.

"Maybe I misunderstood and she went to the commissary," Frasier suggested.

"Checked there."

"Her lab?"

"Nope." The elevator door opened and Frasier reached out, choosing level 19. "Doc?"

"If the locker room is the last place she was, then it's the first place we should look," she said.

The trip up two levels took just a few seconds and Jack quickly exited the car. He knew that Carter definitely wasn't at her best – hell, to be honest, she'd looked like death warmed over. Just like Daniel.

No. Different from Daniel. He'd been awake and talking, at least for a while, until the pain had become too much and Doc had brought out the morphine.  All Carter had done was sleep, except for that one short period of lucidity.

He wasn't used to seeing her so still and quiet. Well, he was used to seeing her quiet, every soldier was trained to do that. But her mind was rarely still. He could always see it in her eyes. She was always thinking, always planning, always working out some problem or solving some puzzle.

He'd come to depend on that, to depend on her. She was always there, knowing exactly when to rein him in and when to egg him on.

More than once, it was almost like she could read his mind, often anticipating his moves. He found it rather uncanny that she could do that and often wondered if it was a woman thing. Sara'd been the same way, seeming to sense things long before they happened.

They arrived at the locker room and Jack stopped, frowning at the partially open door. "At least I won't have to break in," he said, rapping his knuckles against the glass. The open door relieved him in a way. Among his nightmare scenarios was to find her collapsed on the floor. "Carter? You in there?"

Getting no response, he pushed the door open, his senses alert for any threat. He could hear the rhythmic dripping of the water in the sink and got the sense that the room was empty. With Janet trailing him, he made his way to Carter's locker, somehow not surprised to find a pair of infirmary pajamas. He was, however, surprised to find them lying haphazardly on the floor.

She never did that. Even after those nasty missions that ended with them soaked to the skin, she never left her clothes lying on the floor for someone else to clean up.

"She went home," he said, spying the empty hangers in her locker. He didn't have any proof for his claim, somehow he just knew.

"Colonel, I don't see how," Janet protested. "She's got no money, no keys and, if I remember right, you took her car back to her house weeks ago."

Jack looked at the empty locker, the bare shelves mocking him. He remembered a sterile room in Germany. An officer delivering a small box, all Jack's personal effects from his posting in Iraq. They were things he'd brought over with him, things he'd left behind during his little 'vacation'.

He remembered being happy to have his stuff back. To finally hold the picture of Sara in his hand that he'd seen so often in his mind's eye. He felt better with his belongings complete. Less of a burden.

Until he'd noticed something, read the date on the box. A week. That's all they'd waited before they'd cleaned out his foot locker and boxed his stuff up. A week was all they'd waited before deciding that he was gone.

He closed his eyes, cursing himself. Damn it! He'd done it again. "There's easily a dozen people on this base that will give he a ride and she keeps a spare key strung up on an ornament hook in the bush beside her front door," he said absently.

"Sir—"

"Doc, trust me. She's home." She'd done exactly what he would do, retreat to a familiar place. Somewhere where she could be alone. Where she could think and remember, or try to forget.

"I haven't released her yet," Frasier said.

"Is there anything wrong?" Jack asked, a shaft of concern stabbing through his gut. He couldn't lose her, not so soon after getting her back.

"I don't think so," she said. "I had a CT scan scheduled for this afternoon. I wanted to be sure that her condition was stable."

"I'll go get her," Jack said, his hand already digging for his keys.

"Let me arrange—"

"No," Jack interrupted. "Look, Doc, if she went to be alone, she wants to be alone for a reason."

"And you're the best person to check on her?" she challenged. Jack glared and she sighed.

"You probably are," she agreed. "Call me if you need me."

"I will." Jack turned, starting towards the door.

"Colonel?" He turned back. "You know, sir, she may not need her commanding officer right now," she cautioned.

"Hey." Jack spread his arms wide. "Didn't you get the memo? I'm retired."

He left the locker room and hurried down the hall, his bravado fading. He was worried. While he could understand why she'd wanted some private time, he still wondered why she'd left without telling anyone. It wasn't like her, especially since the doc hadn't cleared her  yet. What if something else was wrong? What if she was hurt more than they thought?

Nightmarish images flitted through Jack's brain and he picked up the pace, nearly jogging down the hall. It took him just a few minutes to clear security and make it to his truck.

He drove to Carter's house, his familiarity with the route combined with the mid-afternoon lull allowing him to make the trip in record time.

Her house looked just like it had when Teal'c had come to get him the day before. Jack frowned when he realized that her lawn was neat and manicured. He hadn't been taking care of that. Actually, he hadn't really been taking care of much beyond checking her mail. And even that was more for Jacob's sake than anything else. Jacob was the only reason Jack hadn't headed off to wait out his terminal leave at his cabin.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He stuck Sam's into the lock, then paused. If she was home, presuming that she was home, it wasn't right for him to go walking in on her.

Pulling the key out of the lock, he knocked, unease settling in as he waited. Getting no answer, he knocked again, mentally counting to thirty before he again shoved his key into the lock.

He turned it and heard the tumblers click as the lock was released. Retrieving the key, he slowly opened the door, cautiously sticking his head in. Hearing the sound of running water, he closed his eyes, taking a second to thank some deity that he'd been right and that she was home. He closed the door behind him and made his way into the living room. Dropping down onto the couch, he leaned back, settling into the cushions.

Anticipation mixed with apprehension as he realized that she wouldn't stay in the bathroom forever. Eventually she'd come out and they'd have to talk. And, for the first time in a long time, he had no idea what he was going to say.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam opened the bathroom door, using a towel to sop the worst of the moisture from her hair. She finally felt clean. After half an hour of vigorous scrubbing and half a bottle of body wash she finally felt that she was rid of it. Rid of the sour stench of Osiris' dungeons. Rid of the flakes of dried blood that had slipped into the cracks and crevices of her body.

Now she just needed to see if there was something edible in her kitchen. Whatever she'd left in the fridge was surely beyond saving, but she seemed to remember having a few cans of soup in the cabinet. She'd get something to eat, then she'd get some sleep.

She walked into the living room and stopped dead as her eyes caught sight of a figure sprawled on her couch. "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, the hand holding the towel falling to her side.

She watched the expressions play across his face, relief swiftly replaced with a frown at her tone. "I came to check on  you," he said evenly, getting to his feet.

"Why?"

"Excuse me?" His eyebrows crawled up his forehead.

She shook her head and pushed her fingers through her damp hair. "Why are you even bothering?"

"I'm bothering because I was worried about you."

"What's there to worry about? Oh wait, I get it.  You need to keep up appearances, right? Well don't bother, there's no one around here to impress," she ranted, giving into her anger.

His presence pissed her off to no end. He'd tossed her side like so much garbage but then wanted to play the concerned colonel when it suited him?

"What the hell are  you talking about?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry I screwed up your plans," she continued, ignoring him. "Hell, for all I know, you probably had a couple of replacements already picked out." She threw the towel down, not caring if it landed on the carpet. "You don't have to worry about me getting in the way." She reached for her neck and pulled her dog tags over her head. "I quit," she said, throwing the tags at him. He caught them, his fumbling movement looking more like instinct than anything else.

"Carter—"

"No!" she interrupted. "Get out!"

"Look, Sam I—"

She spun on her heel, intending to show him to the door. Her dramatic gesture backfired when the room spun. She reached out for the wall, closing her eyes and breathing deep. A warm, large hand wrapped around her arm and she flashed back, remembering different hands, hard and cruel. Hands that punished, hands that dragged her way, carrying her to face her tormentor. They were going to take her and hurt her and—

"NO!" she screamed, pushing him away even though the movement made her lose her balance and fall to her knees. Away, she had to get away. Find somewhere where they couldn't find her, couldn't hurt her.

Hands grabbed her shoulders and she struggled harder, kicking out. "Sam. Sam. Sam" he shook her, one hand grabbing her chin. "Look at me. You're safe. You're home and you're safe. No one's gonna hurt you again. I promise."

She opened her eyes and stared, the familiar voice finally penetrating her panic. He must have seen her calm because he released his grip on her chin and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her.

She let him embrace her, relishing the first comforting contact she's had in weeks. Then she remembered and she slid her hands between them, pushing him away. "Don't."

"What?"

"Don't pretend."

"Sam, what are you—"

"How long? How long did you wait? Or did you even wait? Was it the first thing you did after you got back?" she asked, her anger growing again.

"Tell me what I did?" he requested, leaning back but not letting go of her.

"You cleaned out my locker," she said, the act that had upset her so much now sounded petty and non-consequential. His eyes closed, the act confirming his guilt. "Somebody started packing up my lab and—"

"I'm sorry," he said, the admission catching her off guard. "We looked for you. The Tok'ra, the Asgard. Nobody knew where Osiris was. Nobody could find you. Hell, Teal'c even went off on his own to look but--I prayed that  you were dead." His words struck her and she looked up. "I'd rather have you dead than going through god only knows what."

"I never gave up on you," she said. "On Edora, or when we thought  you'd gone rogue, I never stopped believing in you."

"I couldn't do it. I couldn't walk into that locker room and see  your stuff, see your name.  I couldn't stand knowing that you were gone because I'd made you go." She frowned.

"You didn't want to go to pick up Heimdal. I knew it but I didn't care. All I wanted to do was to get the hell out of the SGC. I had to get away, get—" He stopped and sighed, closing his eyes briefly before opening them to look directly at her. "I couldn't stay where Daniel died and because I was such a coward I thought I'd gotten you killed and I couldn't—" He moved his hand, cupping her cheek. "I couldn't stand to lose you too," he said., his voice breaking.

She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. "I wanted to die," she whispered. "Every day when she would…I kept hoping that she would screw up, that she'd go too far and I'd all be over." Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her face. His hold shifted and he pulled her close, cradling her against his chest. "I searched my cell but there was never anything I could use," she mumbled into his shirt, feeling the need to confess.

His hand slowly stroked her back as he started to rock her gently. "I hate her. I hate her more than I've ever hated anyone in my life."

"Sam, it's natural to—"

She pulled back, one hand swiping at the tears on her cheeks. "No. I HATE her. Even after I knew Osiris was dead, after I watched that Jaffa cut it out of her, I still wanted her to die. The only reason I didn't space her is because the teltac had only one escape pod."

He didn't say anything didn't offer platitudes that they both knew were meaningless. Instead he merely tightened his hold, pulling her closer. She stayed in his arms, the steady beating of his heart soothing her soul. It suddenly became real. She was home and she was safe.

Her stomach growled and she felt him tense for  a few seconds before a chuckle rumbled through his chest. "I think that's a hint," he said, loosening his grip. "I never got beyond the fridge, do you have any food around here?"

"I don't…wait, fridge?"

"I cleaned out your fridge too," he said, his tone cautious. "And I was going to do what I could to take care of this place until we could get a hold of Jacob." He stared at her, obviously unsure about her reaction.

"I guess that  needed to be done," she said.

"Yeah. Now can we eat?"

She nodded and he got up, holding out his hand to help her to her feet. He led her to the kitchen and she claimed one of the stools while he rummaged in the cabinet. "Spaghetti-o's?" he asked, holding up a can.

"This from the person who keeps left overs until they throw themselves away?" she countered.

He shrugged and closed the cabinet door, pulling open a drawer to look for her can opener. She watched him, not failing to notice how at ease he was in her kitchen. How at ease he was around her. The tension that she was used to, the awareness and awkwardness that had stood between them since the Zatarc mess was gone.

There was a comfortableness, a casualness in his actions that she wasn't used to. He maneuvered around her small kitchen with ease, opening the can, finding a saucepan and setting it to heat on the stove.

"You're in civvies," she said, guiltily trying to ignore the dark spot on his shirt that her tears had created.

"Your powers of observation never fail to astonish me," he quipped, using a wooden spoon to stir the spaghetti.

"You were wearing them last night too," she said, digging up her slightly scattered memories of the first time she'd woken up in the infirmary. "Are you on leave?"

He didn't answer right away, instead busying himself with serving the food, pouring the spaghettio's into a bowl and setting it in front of her. "You could say that." He stuck a spoon into the bowl. "I got another two weeks left on terminal leave."

She reached for the spoon, her hand stopping when his words sank in. "Terminal leave? You quit?"

He leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. "Can't have one without the other."

She set down the spoon, her appetite forgotten. "Why?"

"You need to eat that before it gets cold."

"Why did you quit?" she asked again, ignoring his attempt to change the subject.

"Why ask why?"

She sighed, his prevarication getting on her nerves. The damned man was stubborn with a capitol  S. Annoying was his middle name. It was no wonder that the Tok'ra happened to hate his—

I couldn't stand to lose you too.

"Oh god," she muttered.

Because I care about her a lot more than I'm supposed to.

Because I'd rather die myself than lose Carter.

"You quit because of me," she whispered, the revelation staggering her.

"I quit because I wanted to retire while I was still young enough to enjoy it," he said, pushing away from the counter.

She slid off the stool, padding around the center island. "You quit because you thought I was dead," she insisted, moving to stand in front of him. She reached down and took his hand, twisting her fingers around his. "Nobody's ever done that for me before."

He raised his eyebrows and shot her a bemused look. "Did you just hear what you said?" he asked.

She looked down, her face coloring. "That does sound a little silly doesn't it?"

He untangled his hand from hers and laid it on her shoulder, steering her back towards the stool. "Now, eat," he said, handing her the spoon.

She took it and scooped up some of the canned pasta, obediently putting it into her mouth. She watched him watch her eat, the enormity of his revelation finally striking home. He gave up his job for her, because of her.

I don't know why we wait to tell people how we really feel. I guess I hoped that you always knew.

"I don't want it to be too late again," she muttered, her words making him frown.

"Huh?"

She again set down the spoon and slid off the stool. She made her way over and stopped in front of him. She took a deep breath and decided to just go with it. "Jack." She smothered a smile at the look on his face. "It's getting a little crowded in that room. Maybe we need to do a little rearranging."

"Rearranging?" His tone was cautious, appraising.

She nodded. "It's sorta cool. Sometimes you discover treasures you never realized you had." She smiled tentatively, hoping desperately that he wouldn't rebuff her.

Much to her relief, he smiled, his hand taking hers. "I always did like treasure hunts."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You're sure about this?" George asked, knowing the answer but obligated to ask it anyway.

"One hundred percent," Jack said. "We talked to Teal'c and he's fine with it."

"He's been wanting to spend more time with Ry'ac and Drey'ac," Sam said.

George nodded, looking down at the papers in front of him. One set of retirement papers and a request for a transfer. "You do realize, Major, that by transferring to the research department  you're pretty much putting your career at a stand still?" he asked. "Without any command experience, you'll be unlikely to advance too much beyond Lieutenant Colonel."

Sam shrugged. "There's more to life than having a command," she said.

George nodded again and closed the folder on his desk. "Speaking as a friend," he said. "I have to wonder what will happen if this experiment doesn't work out."

Jack shrugged. "Carter—" She scowled and kicked his foot. "Sam transfers back to a field team, if she wants to. Look, General, we don't know what will happen but—"

"But life is too short," Sam interrupted. "Janet won't clear me for gate travel until these migraines go away anyway," she said. "And the colonel—" O'Neill took his turn to kick her foot. "Jack has agreed to teach some classes at the academy."

"You two seem to have this all planned out," George said, studying them. Jack was in his civilian clothes and was nearly lounging in the chair while Sam wore her uniform. She still looked pale and drawn from her ordeal, but there was also a different spark in her eyes. A glimmer of something George hadn't seen in the mirror for far too long. Something that the scourge of cancer had taken from his life.

"Very well," he said. "Major, I have a request from Jonas Quinn. As I think you know, he's been working with Miss Gardner, helping her to come to terms with the events of the past year." George watched Sam's eyes lower and her expression vanish behind a bland mask. Jack's reaction wasn't so subtle. His fingers dug into the arms of the chair. "He feels, and Doctor Frasier agrees, that Miss Gardner would benefit from learning more about the death of Osiris. She also has expressed the wish to speak to you and apologize for the events of the past month."

"Sir, I've already written a report," she protested.

"And Mister Quinn is very grateful," George said. "However she still insists upon seeing you in person."

"General—"

George saw Jack's foot dart out again, interrupting her. She looked to him, frowning for a second. They stared at each other before she nodded slightly. "We'll both go," Jack said, his tone resolute. "Although I gotta warn you, sir. Sam sucks at storytelling. She uses way too many long words."

George chuckled at the slightly indignant look on Sam's face. If nothing else, this whole relationship thing of theirs was going to be entertaining. "I'm sure that's a condition that Mister Quinn will have no issue accepting," he said.

"If there's nothing else—"

The klaxons blared. "Unscheduled off-world activation!"

The three of them got to their feet and George hurried past them, leading the way to the control room. "Receiving Tok'ra IDC, sir," Walter said, barely glancing up from his monitor.

"Open the iris," George ordered. The metal blades spun open and a few seconds later a familiar figure stepped through the shimmering surface. "Dad," Sam said, hurrying down the stairs and into the gate room.

"Dad," Jack said softly, wincing as one hand massaged the back of his neck.

George didn't even bother to hide his grin. Yep, it was definitely going to be entertaining.

Fin