A/N: Okay… I do apologize for the delays. I'm sure I've lost some of you along the way, but my absence here was simply unavoidable. Health issues have held me hostage (like the alliteration there?) for months, I'm afraid. But, having just returned from GATECON, where I visited JACK'S CABIN and stood next to RICHARD DEAN ANDERSON and CLIFF SIMON (and many other awesome SG-1 stars!!) I couldn't help but be inspired to write more. Please check out my live journal (karibou-sg-1 DOT livejournal DOT com) in the coming days for pictures of the con!

And, aside from standing next to RDA (and, okay, staring obsessively at Cliff Simon's butt…) my favorite part of the 'con was meeting so many of you who I've met through writing fanfiction. It was an absolute blast to see the cool, interesting people that you all are!!

Thanks for hanging with me. Again.

Chapter 10

The rhythmic beep, beep, beep of the cardiac monitor should have done something to soothe Jack's ragged emotional state. It did, after all, indicate that Sam was alive and stable. Somehow, however, he didn't feel at all comforted by the noise. Her unnatural stillness and ghostly complexion were just too overwhelming for him to find any peace of mind.

This was not how their adventure was supposed to end. From the moment he'd found her holed up in that tomb, they'd wordlessly agreed to be a team. They were supposed to rise – or fall – together.

"You're still here? You really should get some sleep, sir."

Jerking upright, Jack blinked somewhat groggily at Janet's familiar figure in the infirmary's door. The fact that he hadn't heard the door open was testament to his tremendous distraction. "I'm fine," he said flatly. He knew he was acting irrationally, but simply didn't have it in him to care. Looking back at Sam's frighteningly white features reinforced his determination to stay at her side. It would take a direct order to uproot him from this spot.

Janet examined him carefully, her sharp eyes missing none of the ragged exhaustion on his face. She'd seen him hover over a teammate's sickbed many times before, but never with this level of intensity. Even Daniel had commented on it. Stepping more fully into the room, she spoke gently. "She's not likely to wake up any time soon. And when she does wake up, she's going to need you to be at full strength."

Jack's jaw flexed stubbornly. "I said I'm fine." His tone brooked no argument.

Sighing quietly, Janet recognized the determined set of his chin. With a quick glance back to ensure the infirmary door had swung shut, she slowly pulled up a second chair beside his. "Sir," she began diplomatically, "I can see you're concerned." Was that an understatement. "But you can't sit here indefinitely."

His brown eyes turned on her defiantly. "Says who?"

Janet considered the stubborn glint in his eyes and knew that brute force was simply not going to work here. The iron-steady resolve in his eyes hinted that even a direct order could require enforcement from a few burly MPs. Swallowing, she decided to roll the proverbial die. "All right." Silently praying she wasn't about to make a sizeable career blunder, Janet forged boldly ahead. "Let's just pretend, for a moment, that we're not Air Force officers… okay, Jack?" She paused, carefully watching his response.

Surprise, annoyance, and anxiety all flashed across Jack's features in rapid succession before he finally seemed to settle on an attitude of wary surrender. "Sure… Janet." A note of sarcasm had crept into his voice. Clearly, he wasn't keen on having this particular discussion.

Janet took a deep breath and considered her words with great care. "Look… Sam is my friend, too," she said simply, feeling a knot of emotion creeping into her throat. As a doctor, she was able to force her feelings aside to do her job. But whenever she was treating a colleague and friend, those feelings were always present in the background, ready to seep out through the cracks in her armor. "I'm very, very concerned about her." Janet's words were nearly a whisper. Clearing her throat, she tried to regain an air of professional distance. "She has a head injury – a seriously one." In spite of her best efforts, she felt the gravity of those words like a weight on her shoulders. "I'd like to be able to offer both of us some words of comfort, but this type of injury is notoriously unpredictable. As a physician, there's nothing I can say which is going to make you feel better." She sighed, looking at her friend's pale, still features. "But, as Sam's friend, I feel like there are some things I can say." Chewing on her lip for a moment, Janet gathered her nerve and looked her long-time colleague squarely in the eye. "I have no idea what happened on that planet," she said quietly, "but I can see that something has changed."

Jack raised a hand defensively. "Listen, Doc, I really don't think–"

She cut him off ruthlessly. "No, you listen." Her tone was unyielding. "If you think you can anchor yourself to her bedside and mope like this without drawing attention to yourself, you're wrong."

His eyes glinted dangerously. "You say that as though I care whether I draw attention to myself."

Janet, however, wasn't cowed in the slightest. "You may not," she retorted, "but Sam would." Her words rang with conviction. "We both know she'd throw a fit if she knew you were endangering your career over this."

Jack glared at her. "And as soon as she opens her eyes and tells me that, I'm sure I'll take her opinion into account."

Eyes narrowing, Janet knew it was time to stop pulling punches. "Okay, then, how about this?" She leaned forward to maximize the impact of her words. "Have you considered Sam's career?" She paused to let that particular thought sink in. "It would be a shame to have her pull through all this, only to end up in hot water for fraternization." It was a low blow, but something she knew Sam would approve of. Janet knew that, more than anything, Sam would never want Jack to endanger his career over her, especially while she was helpless to do anything about it. As Sam's friend, she knew she had to keep the situation under control until the other woman was capable of sorting through things on her own.

Jack's swift intake of breath indicated his understanding. "Damn."

The expression of pained guilt on his features was enough to make Janet somewhat remorseful. "Look," she continued pleadingly, "I'm not saying that the Air Force is an impassable obstacle." In all honesty, she'd be damn surprised if Hammond didn't find some workable solution. "But you two were on an official mission. So maybe, it would be best if you waited until she recovers before trying to cross that particular bridge."

His eyes were suddenly bleak. "Assuming she does recover…"

Janet's heart swelled with emotion. "She will." Her tone was unwavering.

Looking at the ghostly figure on the bed beside them, Jack's stomach clenched in fear. She'd better, he thought. Because if she didn't, he was pretty sure he wouldn't, either.

Surrounded by bewildering curtains of darkness and confusion, Sam felt herself wandering aimlessly through an alien landscape. She knew the gate had to be somewhere nearby – she never would have wandered so far from it unescorted. Wrinkling her brow uncertainly, she somehow understood that this was a hard lesson she'd recently re-learned. And yet, she couldn't quite recall how she knew that.

Her constant and relentless search for a way home was punctuated only by moments of self-directed anger and frustration. She had the sinking feeling that she – and no one else – was squarely to blame for her present state of misdirection. But, again, the details were fuzzy.

If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could imagine the presence of people she loved nearby. Janet's steady, healing presence was almost always there… and occasionally, she could imagine Daniel's brotherly affection or Teal'c's protective gaze skimming the surface of her consciousness. But, of course, none of those sensations even began to compare to the rock-steady foundation which miraculously sprouted beneath her feet when he was there.

Sometimes, if she concentrated very hard, she could almost hear him issuing orders for her to return safely. The note of terrified concern in his voice was both disturbing and motivating. He must care about her tremendously to sound so shaken by her absence.

She would not let him down.

And so, prodded by his desperation and supported by the presence of her dearest friends, Sam resolutely continued to battle the darkness around her, searching for the glowing puddle of light which would lead her home.

"You look like hell."

Blinking the weary grit of too-little sleep from his eyes, Jack glared at Daniel in dark warning. "Your point?" He really wasn't up for chit-chat.

The archaeologist, however, wasn't remotely affected by Jack's black mood. He had, in fact, been expecting this reaction. Stepping completely into Sam's infirmary room, he leaned against the wall, giving his friend plenty of space. "It's been a week, Jack. Hammond is going to want us to start working again soon." His words were purposefully simple.

Closing his eyes again, Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Yeah. I know." A note of bitter resignation rang in his quiet reply.

Daniel watched the other man carefully. "Will you?"

Jack blinked. "Will I what?"

Pausing, Daniel glanced at Sam's unmoving form on the bed before returning to his friend. "Go back to work when asked to?"

Turning to the silent, prone woman beside him, Jack studied her lovely features intently as he considered his response. "I don't know," he finally admitted.

Daniel nodded, not surprised by the answer. Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer. "It's not like the soap operas, you know."

Jack looked up at his friend, clearly confused again.

Gesturing to Sam, Daniel tried to explain as gently as possible. "Waking up from a coma. On TV, the victim always flutters her eyelids gracefully and then whispers the name of the person hovering over her bedside." He looked at Jack sympathetically. "In real life, fluttering eyelids are usually just a reflex at the beginning. Waking up can take days… weeks… even months."

Swallowing back a wave of pain at the other man's words, Jack simply nodded. "Yeah. I know. Doc Frasier explained."

Daniel took another step forward. "And I'm sure Janet has also been pushing you to follow orders when duty does call you back." His voice held a note of something meaningful.

Jack's eyebrows shot up instantly. "You're not?" To say he was surprised by the idea was an understatement.

Now standing beside Jack at Sam's bedside, Daniel's eyes skimmed over her nearly-translucent skin. "No," he said finally. "I'm not." Turning to his friend, his face was painted with his own considerable grief. "She's going to need help when she wakes up." His next statement was emphatic. "She's going to need you."

Jack sat back in his chair, absorbing this development with complete astonishment. "You think I should… retire?"

Considering his reply carefully, Daniel again focused on Sam's motionless form. "I'd quit if I thought it would do her any good to have me around 24/7. Hell, so would Teal'c. But we've talked about it, Jack. And we think Janet is wrong." He took a slow, deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. "Janet is doing what she thinks Sam would want in this situation. Let's face it, Sam wouldn't want any of us to sacrifice for her – she's just not that kind of person. I think Janet is just trying to make sure Sam's opinion is heard." He smiled humorlessly. "I guess I'm just a little more selfish than that. Personally, I think that whether she wants help or not, she's going to need it." His blue eyes shone with intensity. "And I think it's pretty obvious that the person who's got the best chance at helping her through this is you."

The two men stared at each other for a moment as a powerful aura of understanding coalesced around them. Without words, the unlikely friends sized up the gravity of the situation and pondered the best strategy for conquering it.

After a moment, Jack nodded slowly. "I'll talk to Hammond."

Exhaling a shaky breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, Daniel felt the tension pour out of his body. "Good." He wasn't entirely sure why, but he was overwhelmed by the gut feeling that things had just taken a mighty turn for the better.