Another ten minutes passed in silence in the little room before the door opened once more, and Monica felt a slight surge of relief when she saw who walked through the door. Sam O'Neill wasn't in Washington, and wasn't close enough to get there in time to be of use in this initial period of mourning, but Daniel Jackson was – and he was probably the only person that could get Jack to respond to him in the absence of Sam.

The two exchanged a quick glance, and Monica could see that Daniel, too, was affected by the loss of the lab he'd known since he was a puppy. Unlike Jack, however, Daniel wasn't literally prostrate with grief. He hurt, but he could function. And Monica had already explained to him when she'd called him what she needed.

Daniel crossed the room and dropped down beside Jack, who didn't even notice his arrival.

"Jack…"

"He's gone, Daniel…"

Apparently he had noticed, Daniel decided. Just because he was President didn't mean he didn't still have some of the reflexes and habits that had kept him alive for so long.

Daniel nodded, and put his hand on O'Neill's shoulder.

"I know. I can't even imagine how much it hurts."

Jack didn't reply to that. He couldn't believe how much it hurt, either.

Daniel's grip tightened on his shoulder.

"Jack, we need to go."

O'Neill shook his head, still pressed lightly against his baby's fur.

"I can't leave him."

Daniel felt a pang at the hopelessness in his friend's voice, but shook it off and pulled on his shoulder.

"He's gone, Jack. You're not leaving him…"

"Don't say that!"

For the first time, anger broke through the hurt, and Jack looked over at Daniel, his eyes swollen and red.

Daniel didn't even flinch from the shout.

"Don't say that…" Jack repeated, closing his eyes and putting his head back down against Jaffer.

Daniel stood up, and took Jack's arm as he did.

"Come on… We've got to get you out of here."

Predictably, Jack jerked his arm free.

"I don't want to go. I want to stay here."

"You can't," Daniel told him firmly, amazed at just how deep the hurt seemed to run. Jack O'Neill had lost friends before; many times and in many places. Daniel had even been with him some of those times, and he'd never seen such a reaction. "You need to come with me."

"No."

"Jack… you have to talk to Jacob and Nia."

It was a calculated comment. Daniel didn't know for certain where Jake and his little sister were, but he knew they hadn't gone to visit Janet in Colorado with Sam. Which meant that they were with Jack somewhere. And they might even have been around when Jack realized Jaffer was failing.

It worked, too. The hurt in Jack's expression faded just a little, replaced by concern. Jaffer was older than both of the kids, and how did one tell his children that their lifelong playmate wasn't coming back? Which reminded him how much he was going to miss him, too, and almost sent him reeling back once more – if Daniel hadn't caught his arm again.

"I can't tell them…"

"You have to. They shouldn't find out about it on the news."

Which was yet another calculated comment, since Daniel knew that Jack hated the press. But it didn't have the same effect. Jack turned back to Jaffer's still body, and ran his hand along the now brittle-feeling fur.

"I can't leave him, Daniel."

"It'll be okay, Jack."

O'Neill shook his head, allowing his friend to pull him away.

"It'll never be okay again…"

Something inside him had died with Jaffer, and all he could feel in the place that had once been vibrant and warm was a painful emptiness.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ian frowned.

"My help? With what?"

"Who is this?" McKay asked, curiously.

The Ancient looked at him, unperturbed at the interruption.

"My name is Chelani."

"He's an Ancient," Ian said.

"Really?"

McKay came a little closer, obviously trying to get a better look at the young Ancient, and Ian scowled.

"He's not going to do tricks, you know."

Sheppard and Weir had both walked down the stairs to the main level of the control room and moved up beside Ian.

"He's already done one," Weir said., wryly.

Ian looked over, curiously, well aware that there must be something interesting to the story for her to use that tone of voice. It was Sheppard who replied, though.

"He popped in out of no where."

McKay frowned.

"How did he do that? We have the shield up."

"He's ascended," Ian explained. "The shield wouldn't stop him."

"Really?" Now McKay's expression was even more curious – and somewhat excited. "Ascended? That's really-"

"Ian Brooks. I need to speak with you. The matter is most urgent."

"About what?"

"We need your help."

Ian scowled. He was wasting a perfectly good training day here, and that never out him in a good mood. Not that he walked around singing show tunes or anything anyways, but still…

"You already said that."

Chelani nodded, but seemed hesitant to continue.

"Maybe we can go somewhere else…" Weir suggested. "Someplace a little more private?"

The young Ancient nodded again.

"That would be helpful."

Sheppard turned, waved for the armed security force to stand down – now that they knew Ian really did know the guy who'd just popped in under their noses, literally – and then headed for the door, leading the way. Weir and Ian followed, with Chelani between them, and it only took a moment for McKay to hand over his P90 to one of the marines and hurry after the group. There was no way he was going to miss this, after all!