Thanks for all the wonderful reviews - I appreciated every one! See, I'm writing through the flu, even... sneeze.

This is a shorter chapter - it's really here as a bridge over the central part of the story. I hope by the end of it we've got our very own wryly ironic General back.

Jack came floating towards consciousness, still weeping uncontrollably. The sight of Carter lying dead in front of him filled his mind. The fact that it was not the woman he was married to that he was seeing didn't seem to make a difference. As Cecily, he had hero- worshipped Stuart, and the loss had been devastating. No matter that Sam still lived; he felt that loss, at this moment, as intently as his soul had that still, humid morning in 1879. The person he loved most in the world was gone, and the hole in his heart felt infinite.

Gradually he became aware of himself, curled into a fetal position, arms across his eyes. He could hear a voice, repeating something over and over, and over again. It took him some minutes to realise the voice was his, and still further time to understand what he was saying.

"It's too hard. It's too hard. It's too hard."

"General O'Neill."

The voice was cultured, accentless, but definitely female. For a moment he wondered at its familiarity, searching his mind, then he remembered and suddenly realised where he must be.

General Jack O'Neill opened his eyes.

The dark eyed twice-ascended woman was kneeling beside him, hand hovering over his head as if she were unsure if she were permitted to offer comfort in this way or not. He was back in the shimmering radiance, and the form he wore was his own. Avatar or not, it felt good to recognize himself again. For a moment he lay still, unable to move a muscle, then slowly closed his eyes again.

"It's too hard."

His voice was a mere whisper.

"I can't keep this up." He opened his eyes again, begging for her understanding. "I had to let him go. And he didn't come back!"

But the intensity of the grief was fading... as he heard himself speak he realised it was Cecily talking, Cecily's loss. His Carter was still alive, after all. He shuddered internally, suddenly vividly aware of how hard it must be for her, watching him lying there day after day, neither dead nor alive. Poor Sam.

His breathing had slowed, and the grief for a lost love was subsiding as he came fully back to himself again, rising up to a sitting position. For a moment they sat quietly, and Jack could feel she was waiting for him to break the silence

"It was all just too much."

He was painfully honest with her. As before, he couldn't think of a reason not to be.

"Seeing Stuart lying there... every time Sam goes through the 'Gate without me, I worry that's going to happen." He looked down, dangling his hands between his legs.

"And then, of course, there was Charlie. The circumstances were... similar." His tone indicated he really didn't want to discuss this, and the woman beside him sighed softly, sympathetically.

Jack sat up straighter, and turned his head to face her.

"Have I messed it up? Is that why I'm back here?" He met her gaze straight on, but his eyes held fear.

The ageless face softened, and she shook her head.

"Oh no. No, you're doing well. Very well."

She reached out to him, and again he had the strange experience of seeing her arm meld with his own.

"You were in such distress... you needed a break, a chance to regroup."

He couldn't fault her reasoning. Already, though, as Cecily's life retreated back across the years that separated them, he was seeing with greater perspective.

"You know," he stopped, unsure of exactly what he wanted to say, playing with the frayed edges of the jeans he appeared to be wearing while he got his thoughts together.

"The first lives I visited... I was meeting up with people who were already gone in my lifetime. I was so glad to see them again..."

He paused again, lost in thought.

"Then, to see Sam, and have to witness what happened..." The echo of Cecily's keening filled his mind again, and he winced.

"Well, I haven't lost her. And I'm damned if she's going to lose me just yet!"

The woman beside him nodded approvingly.

"I'm very glad to hear you say that. But it's not over yet. You still have more of your journey to make. There are still lessons to learn."

"OK, that's fine." Jack, being eminently reasonable, had something else to ask.

"But I need something, something that gives me hope I will get back. Back to myself, and to Sam. There must be some hope you can give me?" His gaze was intense, focused fully on the figure before him, who was biting her virtual lip, obviously having some sort of internal debate.

"Please."

He said nothing further, just watched as the AAA (nope, he still had no clever name for her. Need Daniel for that) closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. She paused for a moment, then spoke softly.

"Listen."

Just the one word, and he immediately began to question her.

"To what? What am I...?"

"Shhhh." She sounded faintly annoyed, and he gathered that whatever she was engaged in doing wasn't as easy as it looked. So he shut up, and concentrated on listening.

And there was something, just on the edge of hearing, a tiny sound. Concentrating hard he focused on it, willed it to become louder. And there it was...

"Well, we have the information Neftun gave us. And Vala's going to be OK, physically at least." A deep sigh. What was all that about? The voice faded and he heard footsteps, moving away. The sound of other voices intervened, then, with a lift of joy, he heard Sam. Her voice was closer than Daniel's had been; he could swear she was whispering in his ear.

"Jack, I'm convinced you can hear me. I'm convinced I'm not talking to myself here. So stop being so damn stubborn! Just squeeze my hand, Jack. One little squeeze. Please Jack?"

Reflexively he clutched his hands, and although he felt nothing, Sam's voice reacted immediately, with a shocked intake of breath. Then he heard her calling, her voice joyful,

"Carolyn! Carolyn! I felt him, he squeezed my hand! Oh my God, he really did! Oh Jack..."

Sam's excited voice faded away, and Jack, breathing hard, opened his eyes again. For some reason he felt as if he'd been running, his chest heaving with an effort he didn't recall making.

"She felt me," he whispered, awed. "She really did."

The woman before him just nodded, a faint smile on her lips. Behind her, the archway coalesced again, growing solid.

"She did. And you now have more brain function than before, and your wife and your friends have renewed hope of your eventual recovery." She rose, and gestured to the doorway.

"Are you ready, now, to resume your journey?"

He got easily to his feet, and faced her, smiling again.

"I am." But after a few steps, he paused, as a thought struck him.

"Just, one thing..." He bit his lip in turn, unsure if he were allowed to ask, then ploughed ahead anyway.

"Cecily - I liked her. What happened to her? Did she have a, a good life?"

He felt apprehension for just a second, before the AAA was nodding, smiling back at him.

"She did. She never truly got over losing Stuart, but she was able to move on, and live a very interesting, varied life. She campaigned vigorously for women's rights, chaining herself to a lamppost outside the House of Commons on one occasion."

Jack grinned. He couldn't help it. That sounded just like her, he thought. After all, she'd joined in with a riot.

The dark eyed avatar was continuing.

"She never did marry, although from her mid-twenties she carried on a very passionate, life-long affair with the Anglo-Indian Envoy to London. A fascinating, highly educated man... in fact, he was the incarnation of Dr Jackson's soul in that particular lifetime. They made a very good pair."

There was a strangled gulp, and she looked up, alarmed. Jack's grin had frozen in place, and his eyes were wider than usual.

"General? Jack?" She reached out a concerned hand. "Are you unwell?"

He shook himself, and released the breath he'd been holding with a rather strained laugh.

"I don't suppose there's a chance you're kidding me?"

Her look of faint bewilderment drew another chuckle from him. "No. Guess not. I'm perfectly well. I'm fine. I'm, er, very glad it all worked out for Cecily." He laughed again, more easily this time.

"Just, um, next time I ask a stupid question like that, don't tell me anything, OK?"

He grinned at her slight frown of incomprehension, muttered "Daniel, huh?" under his breath, then turned to face the archway. Drawing a deep breath, and squaring his shoulders, he strode through, and didn't look back.

SGC

In the infirmary, there was controlled chaos. Dr Lam was taking Jack's pulse, and studying her watch with a frown. Without a word she began hooking him up to the monitors around the bedside and fixing cuffs round his arms. Sam, face alight, stood beside the bed, trying to keep out of her way.

"What's up?"

Cam, Daniel and Teal'c were in the doorway, hovering anxiously. There had been no indication yet if the commotion was due to good or bad news.

"I felt Jack squeeze my hand." Sam didn't beat around the bush. "He's going to come back to us, guys!" There were tears in her eyes, and she blinked, looking down at Jack, whose hand she still held. The monitors bleeped suddenly into life, with a variety of curves and pulses making their way across the screen.

Carolyn exhaled.

"Here." She pointed out a particular line to Sam. "And here." Her face suddenly broke out into a rare smile. "His brain activity is much better than it was yesterday. This is looking good, people."

She unfastened one of the cuffs, but left the monitors attached. Bending over her patient, she said, sincerely, "Well done, General O'Neill." Then, with a last smile and a supportive squeeze of Sam's arm, she left the room.

Her place was immediately taken by the members of SG-1, crowding around, beaming at Sam. Before anyone could say anything, though, footsteps could be heard flying down the corridor outside; a second later Vala's breathless face popped round the door, pigtails askew.

"What's happened? I heard all the noise. Sam? Daniel?"

Daniel reached out a hand and pulled her into the room, squishing Cam over to make space. Sam grinned at her friend, happy tears in her eyes.

'It's Jack" She glanced down at the bed, as Vala gasped.

"He's coming home."