Janet Frasier picked up the phone in the infirmary.

"Frasier," she said brusquely, wondering who would be ringing from off base at this hour.

She furrowed her brow as she heard O'Neill's voice, she thought SG1 were supposed to be on one of their infamous "team nights". He didn't give many details, just that he needed a stretcher and a med team to meet him at the base entrance. She wondered what had happened this time. Daniel had too much to drink? Fallen down some steps and broken a leg?

Janet shrugged. She knew it wasn't going to be serious, that sort of stuff only happened off world. She was tempted to send them all off down to the ER and let them wait 4 hours, but she hadn't got anything better to do. SG7 weren't due back for hours.

Calling to a group of medics, she grabbed an emergency first aid pack, then made her way to the surface. She marched quickly and purposefully, only stopping briefly for security checks and to swipe her ID card at various intervals.

She waited with her team in the large semi-circular tunnel at the entrance to the base and watched as O'Neill's truck pulled up and he hopped out and round to the back doors. She noted how drained he looked, the fear and concern in his eyes, visible even from this distance. She knew something was wrong, someone was hurt.

Sam. The realisation hit her with a blinding force. The worry in his voice on the phone, the fear in his eyes. She fought her way through the swarm of airmen to the truck, her throat constricting slightly. She forced the panic back, forced herself to be the professional soldier and medic as Jack lifted a wrapped body from the back of his truck.

"What happened?" she asked, making her way to him as fast as she could.

Janet stopped as she saw the figure in Jack's arms. Sam was stiff, but seemed to be unconscious, her face covered with flecks of blood and washes of mascara. Her neck was bruised and bitten and her long, slender legs that poked out of the blanket were battered and scratched.

"What happened?" She repeated, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Jack didn't reply, but Janet could see the answer in the dark look he gave her.

God, not Sam. Please, not Sam.

She followed silently, trying to collect her emotions, bury them, as the Colonel ignored the stretcher and carried Sam into the elevator, Janet's small frame struggling to match his fast pace, set by long, powerful legs.

They marched towards the infirmary, Janet trotting slightly. It took what seemed like forever, as the thoughts and images refused to be cornered and raced through her mind… what he had done to her best friend, how he had over powered the strong willed officer.

Janet watched as the Colonel laid Sam down gently on one of the white paper covered trolleys. She smiled warmly at his tenderness, and stroked his arm lightly as she guided him away and told him sit down. She felt his initial resistance, but knew he was too emotionally drained to argue with her. She wanted him out of the way whilst she checked the blonde, she knew how difficult the process was going to be, how intimate and awkward it would be for all parties. But she also knew better than to order the fiercely protective Colonel out of the infirmary.

The petite doctor swallowed as she drew the curtain around the cubicle. She snapped protective gloves onto her hands and gingerly drew back the duvet covering her friend. She noticed Sam's tiny flinch, proving her earlier suspicions that were roused when Sam had been stiff, not limp, in Jack's arms. The sleep was feigned.

Janet opened her mouth to say something, to tell her that she knew, but thought better of it. Sam was embarrassed enough. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to steel herself against what was coming next, trying to detach herself, maintain a professional distance. She peeled back the cover.

"Sam!" she gasped in horror, unable to control herself.

The bruises, scratches, smattering of blood, bite marks… Janet struggled to keep calm. Yes, in her time as a doctor she had seen all manner of injuries, but never had she been forced to face… and certainly not one of her friends.

"Sam, honey," she whispered gently, stroking her hair as she leant over her. "I'm gonna have to do a few tests. You understand that, right?"

Janet waited, looking down at her friend with maternal concern. She wasn't going to do anything without a response, Sam had been violated enough tonight, this had to be her decision. She brushed a gloved hand through her hair again and felt Sam shudder beneath her.

"Please, Janet," Sam begged quietly. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," the doctor encouraged. "You're being really brave. I need to check you out, make sure he hasn't done any physical damage. It'll all be over soon, I promise."

She watched with tears forming in her eyes as Sam weakly nodded her consent. Janet left the cubicle silently to get the equipment needed for the evidence collection examination, the infamous rape kit. She had never had to do the exam until now, but knew exactly what procedures had to be done and how uncomfortable it was going to be for her friend.

She gathered the required things and made her way back to the cubicle, casting a glance over at O'Neill, who sat with his head in his hands. She understood exactly how he felt, but at this moment would gladly put herself in his shoes. The anguish she was about to cause…

"Ok, Sam, can you sit for me?" she asked gently, helping the blonde into an upright position. She noticed the fear in her eyes. "It's okay. All I'm going to do is brush your hair with this comb, ok?"

Janet watched the fear subside as she nodded, and started to comb her short hair gently, removing loose hairs onto a sterile, white paper sheet she had prepared. She went through slowly and meticulously, not wanting to miss a detail. A single hair could be the difference between finding this guy or not.

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" she said softly, placing her hand lightly on Sam's back and rubbing her thumb across soothingly. Sam shook her head.

Janet took a breath and steadied her hands as she put the comb down, emptied the evidence on the paper into a plastic bag, and picked up a pair of tweezers. "Now I have to pluck a few hairs from different parts of your head, just to run comparisons. See how many of those other ones were your hairs."

She took the tweezers and teased out a few samples, just as she had told Sam. She placed them carefully into a second plastic bag, labelled "B". Once finished, she returned the bag to the small trolley she was using for her equipment and used a wipe to sterilize her tweezers. She picked up a second comb.

"Ok, Sam," she said gently. "You can lie down again now. I'm going to do the same thing again now, but with the pubic area. Ok?"

She winced as she saw Sam's eyes widen and her legs clamp together. She knew this wasn't going to be easy, and the worst was still to come. But she had to do this.

"Sam, please," she said. "I promise I'll be gentle. Let me try. You can tell me to stop at any time, you know."

She breathed a sigh of relief as Sam relaxed and lay her head back, shutting her eyes. Janet knew how humiliating this must be, how uncomfortable, but it had to be done. She needed to get all the evidence she could, every last drop. She was going to see to it that this beast paid for what he did to Sam. Anger surged through her.

"Ow!" yelped Sam, pulling Janet back to the present. She realised that she had tugged too hard with the comb.

She stood, holding the roots of the hairs with one hand and pulling the comb through the tangled and matted curls with the other, the dried blood from her injuries hindering the process. She treated it like the knotted hair of a child, holding it to prevent it snagging and hurting Sam. Loose hairs fell onto the paper below her and Janet scooped them up and into a third plastic bag. She felt Sam flinch as she moved between her legs, to brush the hairs around the vaginal area. She knew it was uncomfortable, but again, she didn't want to miss any evidence.

"You're doing great, Sam," she smiled, feeling guilty for putting her friend through this as she cleared the evidence into the bag. "These samples are going to get that bastard locked up for a long time."

She took the tweezers and tried to pluck the hairs as gently as she could. It was no use, it was going to sting whatever happened. She pulled a few out from the front pubic area and placed them in a bag, then took samples from the more sensitive area between her legs. Janet grimaced as she saw the stray tear running down Sam's face, unsure whether it was caused by physical pain or humiliation. She suddenly felt glad that the procedure involved combing before collecting samples. The pain could have been a lot worse.

She put the evidence bags and the tweezers back on the trolley and leant over to give Sam a tight hug. The blonde sat up and leant into the hug, not returning it. Janet clasped her tightly, trying not to cause too much pain to her already bruised and battered body. Technically she knew the swabs were next, but she couldn't do that yet, she would leave that til last. That way Sam could escape.

"Ok, time for a manicure," quipped Janet, drawing back and picking up the small scraper and nail clippers. She returned the wane smile she received from Sam.

She perched on the trolley next to Sam as she started to scratch under her long nails and placed the blood caked dirt into a small druggist's envelope.

"If you're gonna have long nails, at least keep them clean, Sam," she chided jokingly, knowing that the dirt was likely to be skin she'd managed to claw off her attacker.

She pulled Sam's other hand and did the same thing, feeling her relax at the unobtrusive form of examination. She then picked up the clippers and trimmed Sam's nails, keeping the clippings in a separate bag for evidence.

"There we go," she said, placing the equipment back on the trolley. She wondered how to tackle the next step without sending the blonde into panic. "Right, I just need a couple of blood samples," she said, deciding that coming straight out with it was the best option.

Sam's eyes flashed open. "Blood? Why? But…"

"It's just a routine measure," comforted Janet. She knew it was for HIV tests, to examine for infections and so on, but telling Sam that would cause unnecessary panic. She had barely come to terms with the fact that she had been attacked, let alone the idea that she could have long term, incurable diseases. Thank goodness that all female field officers were on long term contraception. It meant one less thing for her to worry about.

Janet strapped the torque around her friend's arm and tightened it, causing the veins in the tender underside of her arm to fill and bulge. She took off her gloves and tapped the veins lightly, causing more blood to rush there. She decided to use a syringe as opposed to a vacuum bag, it was quicker, less painful.

She quickly and deftly unwrapped the syringe from its packet, and a small green tipped needle, which she inserted into the syringe. She dabbed a disinfectant-soaked wipe over the tender area on the inside of her elbow and unsheathed the plastic casing protecting the sharp.

Sam sat patiently as Janet swiftly inserted the needle and drew out the necessary sample. She was grateful that Sam was not squeamish with the blood tests. Once she withdrew, and taped a cotton ball tightly to the puncture wound, to avoid blood loss, she turned and emptied her sample into two small phials. She placed these into plastic bags with large paper forms attached, stating what they were to be tested for.

Janet looked down at her trolley, at what she still had to do. She snapped on a fresh pair of gloves, then paused and looked up, inadvertently meeting Sam's eyes.

"No," whispered Sam. "No… not that."

"Let's start with an oral swab, shall we?" asked Janet, avoiding the issue, hoping that gentle assertiveness would persuade Sam.

She unwrapped a swab, smiling at how much it looked like a disfigured cotton bud, and moved towards Sam who grudgingly opened her mouth. She took a scraping from the gum area, the outside of the teeth, where her lips were still flecked with blood. His blood, presumably. The second swab she took from further back, under her tongue.

"You're being really brave, Sam," she told the blonde gently. "A couple of minutes and it will all be over, I promise."

Sam's eyes widened as she watched Janet open the next swab.

"Sam, can you lie down for me, and bend your knees?" She applied a gently pressure on Sam. Not forcing her back, but just encouraging. She felt her friend start to shake violently. She swallowed, her constricted throat making it difficult, and closed her eyes. She couldn't force Sam into this, but she was desperate to have every piece of evidence she could, to corner the attacker. Plus she needed to know that Sam was alright.

"Please Sam," she said, her voice cracked. "Do this for me. I want to know there's nothing wrong with you. You never know what damage he's caused. Please. For me."

Sam fell back, but was still trembling all over. Janet heard her breath become ragged and had to hold one leg still so that she could insert the swab. Sam tensed around her as she inserted, then broke, falling back, the tension gone and now convulsing with the tears she'd tried to hide inside. She quickly finished scraping the cells from around her cervix and put the swab into its bag, turning to Sam who was now in floods of tears.

"That's alright, it's ok," she cradled the blonde in her arms, who was now trembling and shaking all over. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have forced you, Sam."

"No more," croaked Sam in between her rapid, shallow breaths and sobs. "Please, Janet, no more."

Janet frowned as she held her friend. "I really should do an anal swab, Sam. Please."

"He didn't… I mean… I don't think… Please, I can't. I really can't."

The doctor's heart bled as she rocked Sam gently in her arms. She couldn't believe what she had just put her through, what she still had to go through. This was Sam, how could she do this? How could anyone put her through this?

"Sam, honey," she said gently, pulling away slightly and holding her by the arms. "I need you to take some antibiotics for me. Just in case. That's it. I won't do anything else to you. You can put on these fatigues I brought up for you and go to your quarters."

She watched as Sam pulled a face. It was unreadable. Concern, worry, fear, anguish, confusion? Janet couldn't tell.

"I… can I stay here?" she asked timidly. "With you?"

Janet nodded silently, and drew her back into a tight hug.