Chapter 12, part 2.

She is twelve and she is falling, falling, falling from the tree house. The laughter dies on their lips and their faces are now identical masks of horror. Alice is falling, falling, falling down. Her hands and feet are up in the air, extended as if she was hoping there would be something to grab, but no. There is nothing. She is falling, falling, falling onto the ground. The impact knocks the wind out of her, a spasm of pain shoots through her back and chest, her head makes contact with the grassy turf and everything goes dark. She fell.

The first sensation she registered was a sound. A voice. Someone was talking somewhere nearby, but she couldn't understand the words yet. Her brain seemed fogged, confused. She couldn't remember where she was, how she got there, what was happening. She was lying on something. Soft. Her head was a little higher than the rest of her body – a pillow? She could see light through her eyelids. It was bright, sharp. She didn't feel like opening her eyes just yet. Her thoughts were still lazy, going in circles. She felt quite numb. It was rather pleasant.

She didn't know how long she was just hanging there without moving or thinking about anything in particular. It could be a few seconds or a few hours. She didn't wonder at her state. She was completely incurious. But eventually something began to bother her. The voice was still going on there, next to her. Nagging. She didn't want to hear it, but now that she registered how annoying it was, she couldn't not listen. It was beginning to make sense, too.

"Wake up. I want you to wake up now," it said. "Come on, Lieutenant. Wake up now."

But she wasn't asleep. Why didn't the voice know that? Oh, her eyes were still closed. But she didn't want to open them now. The light was too bright.

"Come on, Lieutenant. I want to see your eyes. Wake up!" This voice was strangely familiar. It carried a sort of authority and something Pavlovian deep inside Alice responded. She opened her eyes and immediately had to squint, the bright light dazzling.

"Atta girl," the voice praised. Alice's vision was blurry, but she made an effort to focus on the voice's owner. A familiar figure; she searched in her mind for a moment before she paired the physique to the name: Samantha Carter, Lieutenant Colonel. Alice blinked and frowned. How did she get here? Better yet, how did Iget here? And where the fuck is here? She thought. She shifted her gaze to look around.

She was in a bed. There were railings on each side, the kind hospital beds had to prevent patients from rolling over. The ceiling was of white plaster. A single, bright bulb was hanging from it, giving off the annoying bright light. There were walls, white too. No windows, but a metal door. This looked like a hospital, but it also didn't look like a hospital. Everything was wrong, somehow. Unfamiliar. Or was it her brain's fault again?

"How are you feeling, Lieutenant?" Carter asked after a minute of Alice's quiet staring at her surroundings. That stumped her for a moment. How was she feeling? She tried to reassess that. Her mind was still all fogged up and her body felt… numb. Just numb. A cold trickle of fear found its way into her otherwise lazy thoughts. Was she paralyzed? Was that why she didn't feel her body? She looked down at her chest, which was going up and down in rhythm with her breathing. Okay, that was no proof. She focused on her right hand, lying at her side. It seemed to take an unusual amount of time – a second, maybe two? - but it moved when she willed it. Relief swept over her. She wasn't paralyzed. She fiddled her toes and observed with satisfaction as the sheet covering her moved slightly. Then she turned to her left and was shocked to see some sort of white bulk encasing her entire left side, totally enveloping her arm, which was sticking out at an odd angle. A cast, she finally remembered the word. It was a cast. A closer look revealed it to go all the way down to her midriff and covering half her chest. She was dressed in some sort of dark green shirt, cut open on the left side to admit the cast. She still didn't remember what had happened.

"Where am I?" She croaked, her mouth completely dry. She looked back at Colonel Carter.

"Here, drink a bit." The older officer handed her a ceramic mug without a handle. Alice took it in her right hand and nearly spilled it upon herself; her arm was very weak. But she managed to correct her grip and then lifted it to her mouth. The cool water felt like a balm on her dried lips and tongue. She reminded herself not to gulp everything in one go; there was maybe only half a cup anyway. A few small swallows later she handed the mug back to Carter. Somehow the water seemed to help unfog her mind, too.

"We are still on Tegalus," Carter said, replacing the cup on a small wooden stand at the side of the bed. "Our doctors tried to put you back together with what the local hospital could offer, but I'm afraid you'll need to have another surgery when we get back to Earth."

"Tegalus..." The name sounded familiar.

"What do you remember, Lieutenant?"

Alice frowned again. What did she remember? It was so difficult to concentrate! Why was it so difficult? And why didn't she feel anything? And then it dawned on her: she was drugged.

"Morphine?" She asked, looking up at Carter questioningly.

"The local version of it," Carter confirmed. "You were pretty badly wounded."

"How?"

"We were on the Prometheus, remember?"

Yes, she remembered… the ship where she was a fighter pilot. They had a mission. To this… Tegalus. It was a planet. There was a war. And some sort of weapon…

"Why couldn't we destroy the satellite?"

"The plans that we had were incomplete. There was a shield that our missiles couldn't penetrate."

Shield… their own shields failed. Asgard technology was defeated by an Ori one. Alice's memories were coming back faster now. They were hit by the weapon. She was trying to get to the 302s, but was stopped halfway there when they were hit. Her squadron scrambled before she made it to the bay. She went back… she wanted to go to the engine room but decided to check what was going on. In the auxiliary control room 2. She went in there just as they were hit again… And as the details of the ordeal came back to her, she felt a sharp stabbing pain in her shoulder. She blinked. Was it real or did she imagine that? She looked at her arm, enveloped in the cast. She wasn't exactly sure what happened to her shoulder, but she remembered that she couldn't move her fingers.

"What's wrong with me?" Her voice was small, tentative. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

"The second hit punched a hole in the wall of auxiliary control room 2. You managed to hold onto the door and pulled yourself out of the room and into the corridor before it sealed itself. But as everything was being sucked into the vacuum, a sharp splinter pierced your shoulder. Additionally, the effort you had to make to hold on compromised the ligaments and tendons in your arm." Carter paused for a moment. "It doesn't look so good, but as soon as we're back on Earth our best doctors will take care of you and you'll be as good as new."

The fake cheer in her voice punched Alice like a fist in the stomach. More than the description of the damage, that was the testament to just how screwed she was. She remembered that dreamlike few minutes after the door had closed and she was sitting on the floor, staring at her hand, willing her fingers to move. There was nerve damage, must have been. Her left hand would be useless now. If she ever regained some sort of control, it would be tenuous at best. She'd never fly a fighter again. She'd be medically separated, or forced to retire. If nothing else, her career in the military was over. Would the Homeworld Command allow her to stay on as a civilian contractor? Without the use of one hand, she'd never be allowed to serve aboard a ship again, but maybe she could work at the Groom Lake, building new ships or doing research? Yes, research; she could still think, right? And write. She could still be useful. Her life wasn't entirely over, was it?

"What happened to the Prometheus?" She asked, although she didn't have to; she knew. Carter's answer only confirmed what was the only logical conclusion.

"It was destroyed."

"How many…?" Alice couldn't finish the sentence.

"Thirty nine. Colonel Pendergast, too."

Alice closed her eyes. She might as well get all the bad news in one go.

"My squadron?"

"All good."

"Marks? The engine crew?"

"Marks is okay. He was injured, too, but not seriously. The engine crew made it out, except Chenkov. He ordered the rest to evacuate but stayed behind to ensure the power flow to the Asgard transporters."

Alice didn't respond. She kept her eyes closed and waited for the tears to come, but there was nothing. It wasn't that she wasn't sad; but she was too furious. She didn't speak for over a minute, while the anger boiled inside her.

"If the ship is gone, how are we coming back to Earth?" She supposed they could wait for the Daedalus to get back from Pegasus. Or maybe the Odyssey could be rushed into service to get them here? Then it struck her again: where was here?

"The Rand Protectorate and Caledonia have a cease-fire. The Rand Protectorate will surrender the Stargate to the Caledonians so that they may leave to another world."

"They agreed to relocate?"

"It was this or be annihilated," Carter reminded. "But to be honest I don't think they are convinced to this plan either. At any rate the Stargate is about to arrive to the capital. We'll leave as soon as we can. What happens next for the Caledonians…? I don't know. But I'm quite ready to leave Tegalus for good."

Alice silently agreed. For a moment they were both lost in thoughts. Alice's mind was wandering, jumping from one thing to another. Concentrating on a single idea was still rather difficult.

"How do you know so well what happened to me?" She blurted but then checked herself. "Ma'am."

Carter smiled. "Sergeant Johnson told me. He was the one who found you, alongside an airman."

Alice recalled only the young face of the airman, but someone was definitely walking behind them as they stumbled towards the designated beam out site.

Both of their heads snapped up when the metal door screeched and a man in Prometheus standard-issue blue uniform entered, stood at attention and saluted to Carter.

"The Stargate has arrived, ma'am. Colonel Mitchell has ordered immediate evacuation of all Earth personnel through the Gate."

The lieutenant colonel nodded. "Thank you, Airman. Please ask the nurse outside for a wheelchair for Lieutenant Boyd here, if they have such things."

"No," Alice contradicted immediately. "I can walk."

Carter looked at her disbelievingly.

"I will walk," the younger officer reiterated, throwing off the bed sheet that's been covering her. She was dressed in a dark green, unfamiliar uniform, apparently Caledonian. "Help me with this," she gestured to the airman, pointing at the railing on the side of the bed. He stepped closer and lowered it with an audible creak. "Thanks." She sat up straight and turned her body left to let down her legs. Carter came around the bed to stand next to her.

"Are you sure about this, Lieutenant? You must be very weak."

"I'll be fine," Alice assured her, though by no means she felt sure herself. Now that her feet were touching the floor – she was short enough that only toes were in contact with the ground – she wondered if it wasn't just reckless to refuse a wheelchair. "I just want to get out of here."

Carter put her hand on her right shoulder to steady her, and it was good that she did so because as soon as Alice slipped off the bed and put her weight on her feet, her knees buckled and she would have fallen if she didn't lean on her right arm, propped on the edge of the bed still. Carter's steadying grip helped her regain her balance, although she was somewhat listing to the left, the weight of the cast pulling that side of her body down.

"I'm fine," Alice said, but had to bite her lip. The effort reverberated through all her limbs, recognized in her brain as pain. The effect of whatever Caledonian drug the doctors have put into her was wearing off. It was still rather a dull ache than the fire she remembered from the ship, but it was starting, and she knew from experience that more would follow quicker now, unless she got a new shot. Alice took a few deep breaths before she began walking, concentrating on each step at a time. The first few were rather shaky, but her body remembered how it's done soon enough. The senior airman held the door for her and Carter walked next to her, ready to help if she were to fall.

It may have not been a long way; from the room to the elevator, and then to the exit from the building, to a car waiting for them on the driveway; but for Alice, it seemed like the longest route ever. She had to pause a few times to rest, but each time resumed walking before Carter had a chance to suggest a wheelchair again. The truth was, nowhere in the hospital they saw a wheelchair, they weren't even sure if the Caledonians used them. They did, however, have cars, and Alice thanked her stars for it, because, although the drive was short, she was sure she wouldn't be able to walk that far. The car itself was a curious thing; it looked a lot like a London black cab, except it was deep red and had a yoke instead of a steering wheel and gear.

The Stargate was put in a huge brick hangar, like an abandoned factory, except there were many people inside, mostly wearing Prometheus blue uniforms, but also some Caledonians. They approached a group of them, among whom stood also Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell, Doctor Jackson and Teal'c.

"Ah, Lieutenant, good," Mitchell said noticing them coming up. "Nice to see you up and running."

"Thank you, sir, although I doubt I'd be running any time soon." Alice tried to smile, but it came out more as a grimace of pain.

"It may take a while, but you'll be alright. Trust me."

Alice remembered that Mitchell crash-landed his 302 during the battle over the Antarctic, and was gravely injured. He did make a full recovery, though, and was now leading the SG-1. Alice didn't know what was the nature of his injury, and couldn't possibly guess how it compared to hers, but she assumed it was way worse; she could still walk. So maybe there was still some hope. Not much, but a little flicker; it was all she could count on right now.

"This is the last of your people, Colonel," declared a woman with dark hair and a harried look.

"Thank you, Minister. Daniel, you want to dial us out? Sam, will you go first with the wounded?"

"Sure." Carter nodded and gestured to Alice to follow her. They walked slowly towards the great ring of stone erected in the middle of the hangar. It wasn't really stone – it was Naquadah – but it looked that way. Alice has never seen it before. She found it ironic that she'd finally have the chance to see it only now, when the Prometheus was gone, and so was, most probably, her career in the Stargate program. It looked bigger than Alice had thought it would, more imposing.

It appeared at least a dozen other crew members were injured, some of them much worse than her – they were lying on stretchers, accompanied by Prometheus's doctors and medics. Marks waved to her, his other arm in a sling. Alice smiled in return. And then Doctor Jackson stepped to the DHD and pushed seven symbols which would take them home. The chevrons illuminated on the ring and the burst of unstable vortex flushed outwards like a jet of water. It immediately calmed to create a rippled surface of the event horizon. Alice found herself staring at it in fascination, the pain notwithstanding.

Carter produced a GDO from a pocket and input her code, then turned her radio on.

"Stargate Command, this is Carter."

"Colonel Carter, it is very good to hear your voice!" Came a crackling reply. "We were worried! What's your situation?"

"Sir, I'm afraid it is not good. The Prometheus has been destroyed. About three quarters of the crew managed to beam down to the planet, we request permission to return through the Stargate. We have wounded."

There was a moment of silence, and when the man on the other side spoke, it was in a heavy tone. "Request granted. Come on home, people."

Carter gestured to Doctor Jackson to move ahead and then ordered those injured to go through. They proceeded in an orderly fashion; first the stretchers were carried into the event horizon of the wormhole, then the rest followed, Alice among them, Carter stepping right after her.

It was a very curious experience; the only other thing that Alice could compare it to was jumping into or dropping out of the hyperspace, and yet it was completely different. She didn't actually feel anything, and yet it was a very singular feeling; entirely impossible to describe. It was dizzying to be on a planet thousands of light years away one second and the next one step onto a platform in the Stargate Command, Cheyenne Mountain, Earth. This was her first time there, too, so she looked around curiously as she continued down the platform. Through the glass directly in front of the Stargate she could see a row of computers and a few people standing behind them; one was a general, so Alice presumed it was Hank Landry, the CO of the base. They were being funneled out of the Gate Room into a corridor on the right, marines from Gate Security Forces standing around, their guns pointed down. Alice was about to cross the threshold when she heard her name spoken by a familiar voice. Very familiar. She turned on the spot, surprised, lost her balance, and nearly fell down. She managed to right herself – as much as the cast allowed her – and lifted her gaze to look at a marine sergeant, standing right next to the platform, his rifle hanging on the strap, pointed down. His auburn hair was neatly trimmed, and he looked even more imposing than usual in the cammies and helmet.

"Jake?" He gaped at her with the same dumb expression on his face she imagined was on hers. For a moment neither of them made a move, and then someone brushed off Alice's left side, snagging on her cast. The tug sent a paroxysm of pain from Alice's shoulder to her brain and she moaned, her knees buckling beneath her again. This time, however, she didn't manage to keep her balance and landed on all fours on the floor – or, rather, on all threes, as her left hand was unmovable inside the cast. This did nothing to help with the pain – quite the opposite, actually.

"Allie!" It took Jake maybe two seconds to appear at her side. He put his hand delicately on her right shoulder.

"You alright, Lieutenant?" Carter asked anxiously from behind her. Alice couldn't reply; it was taking all of her self-control not to scream at the moment. If there was any remainder of the Caledonian painkiller in her system still, it had no more effect; her shoulder was on fire again. "We need to get you to the infirmary immediately."

"I'll take her, ma'am," Jake offered and, without waiting for confirmation, he put his hands on her waist and hoisted her up, angling her so that she landed in his arms, cradled to his chest on her right side, her left arm sticking out with the cast. This maneuver was not painless for Alice, but once fitted snugly in her brother's grip, a bit of the pressure on her shoulder let off, and she was able to take a careful breath. Jake set off at a brisk pace through the door and down the corridor, Carter keeping up with him.

"I take it you two know each other?" She asked on the way. Alice chuckled, but it hurt so she stopped.

"You can say that, ma'am," Jake answered as Alice was too occupied trying not to moan again. "Alice is my sister."

"No! Really?" There was shock in Carter's voice. Welcome to the club, Colonel. "She told me she had a brother in the Marine Corps, but she never mentioned you were working in the SGC!"

"I didn't know!" Alice complained, but it sounded more like a wail.

"How come?"

Alice's cheek was pressed to Jake's chest so she didn't really see his face, but she felt him shaking his head. They were entering an elevator now.

"I had no idea Alice was part of the Program, either, ma'am. We both kept the secret from each other. We're different services so it would make sense nobody made the connection. Besides, Boyd isn't that uncommon a name." He paused for a moment. "But what happened?"

"Long story," Alice groaned.

"The Prometheus was destroyed. We barely escaped alive," Carter explained curtly.

"Not all of us did," the younger officer added in a whisper. Neither of them replied. They entered the infirmary. It was full of activity; the wounded were being triaged in order of who needed medical attention more urgently. Lesser wounded were redirected to the Air Force Academy Hospital and those who needed urgent care were distributed among the base medical personnel to look after. Jacob put Alice down gently on a bed. Immediately, a doctor in a white coat stepped closer to check up on her. After a few questions, he ordered a nurse to administer a sedative. Alice wanted to protest, but her shoulder was now throbbing with pain close to what she had felt only right after sustaining the injury, aboard the ship. So she didn't say anything, and a minute after the injection she was already drifting away. Before she lost consciousness, she realized Jake was still holding on to her hand, and she squeezed his reassuringly. And then everything went dark again.

Waking up this time was easier. Maybe it was the alien medication which had made it so hard previously; or maybe it was because she was coming to on her own now, and not prompted by anyone else. When she opened her eyes, most of her cognitive functions seemed back to normal, or at least close. It was silent in the room, the light was muted and grayish, coming from the large window on Alice's left. She was definitely in a normal hospital now. The walls were white, pastel-yellow blinds covered the windows, blue curtains hanging on each side. An assortment of monitors surrounded the bed, and a chair stood on its right side, a large figure sprawled across it. Alice smiled. Jake's steady breathing was the only sound in the room; even the monitors were silent, although she could see they were on. Alice's eyes slipped down and to the left, to examine her shoulder. It was enveloped in plaster, but it wasn't the same cast as before. It was thinner, the surface smoother, and it covered less of her body; it started at the base of her neck and went diagonally down to the middle of her side. It was propped up with a plastic stick attached to her waist. She could see her fingertips sticking out from the very end. She didn't try to move them; she was too afraid to find out they didn't.

It must have been early in the morning. The dawn was coming, the room becoming gradually brighter. Alice didn't move, lest she woke Jake up, but lying in the same position was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Whatever painkillers she was given started to fade, and a dull ache began in her shoulder. In fact, all of her body was sore, like after an intense workout. Her mouth was dry again, and breathing required an extra effort, like in high altitudes. You're alive, she reminded herself. Unlike so many of your colleagues. She closed her eyes, thinking of Colonel Pendergast and Doctor Chenkov, the two people she had known that were lost for sure. How many more? She might not have known everyone's names aboard the Prometheus, but she's met each and every one of them at one time or another, in the mess, the gym, the corridors. She felt sick thinking about the thirty nine families who would never see their close ones again. Like Spinner, lost somewhere very far away, never to return home, not even for their own funerals. Memorial services, that was all they'd get. Alice sighed deeply.

Maybe it was her sigh, or the light now shining bright through the gaps between the blinds, but at that moment Jake stirred and with a huge yawn, sat up straighter in his chair. He noticed Alice looking at him and jumped up to get closer.

"Allie!" He exclaimed and took her right hand into his. "You're awake! How are you feeling?"

"Not too bad, all things considered," she replied in a hoarse voice. "Can I get something to drink?"

"I'll ask a nurse." Jake let go of her and walked out of the room. He was gone maybe thirty seconds. He came back holding a plastic cup with a straw. A nurse was walking behind him.

"Good morning, Lieutenant!" She greeted her brightly and picked up Alice's chart to make some annotations on it, looking over at the monitors. Alice used the time to have a few swallows of water, reveling in its cool wetness. It was soothing on her dry mouth and throat.

"Your vitals look good!" The nurse announced, replacing the chart back to its hook at the foot of the bed and then smiled at Alice. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit sore, but otherwise fine." Alice didn't think going into details of her condition was called for at the moment.

"Good. The doctor will be in very soon. Just try to relax until he comes." With another bright grin, the nurse left the room. Alice thought it must have meant she didn't have any drugs prescribed yet; or maybe it was just too early to administer them? One needed to be very careful with opioids.

"I presume I've had a surgery or something?"

"Or something, yeah." Jake smiled and turned to drag the chair closer so he could sit by her. "They had to cut you open to repair the damage. Your shoulder is pretty fucked up right now, but they told me it could return to full functionality eventually."

"Could?" Alice picked up on the use of the word. "So they're not sure."

"Who's ever sure of anything? But they used some cutting-edge technology, based on stuff we've procured through the Gate over the years. You've literally had the best damn care in the whole wide world."

"Ah. We've procured?" Alice's eyebrows went up. "So what is your actual position at the SGC? You're not a member of an SG team, I'm pretty sure I'd notice that, I've read almost all available reports..."

"Ah, but you didn't notice Robert."

"Robert, your friend?"

"The very same. He's SG-15."

"That's the medical unit, isn't it? That's probably why I didn't recognize his name. They rarely make it to the kind of reports I'd read." Alice shook her head. "But you didn't reply to my question."

"I'm not in an SG team," Jake said. "I'm in the base SF."

"I thought the Security Forces were all Air Force." She was surprised.

"Most of them are. But there is a rifle squad of marines there too, just to make sure you sissies don't run and hide every time there's some danger."

Alice rolled her eyes, but let that pass. "So you're the squad leader?" He was the right rank.

"Yep."

"But you don't actually go through the Stargate, do you?"

"Sadly, no. I've put for reassignment to an SG unit over a year ago, but they haven't okayed it yet. They will, eventually." He sounded nonchalant, but Alice knew him enough to realize that it was something he really wanted. She thought of all the dangers awaiting anyone who stepped through that Gate and shuddered. Her big brother was a professional and he knew how to take care of himself, but how do you protect yourself from the Ori? Or any of the other villains still at large out there? It was different for her, she argued with herself. She was much safer in the cockpit of her 302 than he would be running around with a rifle on the ground.

"Colonel Carter told me that you drive an F-302?" Jake continued after a moment. "That was the special training you'd attended back in '04?"

"Yeah. A space-fighter drives somewhat differently than your standard Viper." Alice grinned, but then her smile waned. "I don't suppose I'll be able to fly anytime soon." She didn't add: if at all, but she thought it.

"Recovery is a pain," Jake acknowledged. He'd know, the injury he's sustained in Iraq took some serious time to heal up too. "But it ends."

Alice didn't voice her doubt at that. It only ends when you get better. She turned to look at the window. What if I never get well enough to fly again? She still hasn't tested her fingers. You fucking coward. But she wasn't able to, not now. Not yet.

"How long have you been with the SGC?" Alice asked, just to turn her thoughts from the depressing musings.

"About a year and a half. I was getting transferred at the same time you had your special training."

"So you've never actually been to 29 Palms?"

"Not since coming back from Iraq, no." Jake shrugged. "Seems that we both hit the jackpot at the same time. That is… you don't regret joining the Stargate Program, do you?"

He sounded uncertain. Alice frowned. She hasn't yet had time for a deeper evaluation of her life choices. Did she regret it? She thought about flying in space; learning so many new things; defending her home planet; meeting all these new people, making friends; all these experiences she wouldn't have had if she had stayed in the seat of an F-16. Maybe it was the end of it now; maybe she would never fly again. But even so… no, she couldn't bring herself to regret the decision.

"No." She shook her head emphatically. "It was worth it."

Okay, Boyd. Stop being a sissy. Alice took a deep breath and looked at the fingertips of her left hand, protruding from the plaster. She concentrated on them and willed them to move. For what seemed like the longest three seconds of her life, they wouldn't. But then the signal from her brain finally came through and with an immense sense of relief, she saw them twiddle at end of the cast. She had control over them. Even if she never recovered full function of the arm, she would be able to use it, if to a lesser extent.

"Yeah, they were wondering about that," Jake said in a low voice. Alice looked up to see he was observing her carefully. "You tore a ligament and strained the others pretty bad. There was some nerve damage too. The only good news is that the piece of shrapnel went in at a relatively low velocity, nothing like a bullet, so it didn't fracture the bones, although it cut right through the soft tissue, muscles and all. They had some jolly good time tying it all up in there."

Alice looked away. This only confirmed what she already knew; there was no way she'd get out of that without some loss of motor function in the arm.

"They did a good job, Allie. You know you were actually operated on in the OR at the SGC? They literally have the best people in the world. And the best equipment, alien and human alike. You'll be alright."

Depends on what you define as alright, brother.

But there was nothing to it; it was impossible to predict just how bad it would be. All she could do is to follow doctors' orders and, once the time for it came, do a lot of physical therapy. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. Maybe the loss of function would be minimal enough that they'd let her fly again. She doubted that, but she couldn't lose hope. If she did, she might just give up right from the start.

At any rate, a long convalescence was awaiting her now. It would be weeks before the cast was off, then months in a sling until she could begin physical therapy for the arm, which would probably take even more time if she wanted to regain all possible functionality. Six months, probably more. And then she'd have to train and qualify again to fly. It seemed such an impossible amount of time. What was she going to do? I'll go nuts from idleness, she thought and grimaced.

The prospects were not good.

The doctors kept her at the hospital for a week. She missed the memorial service for the fallen Prometheus crew, but Jake brought her the news about Tegalus. Or rather lack of it: they only knew that shortly after their evacuation, the talks between Rand Protectorate and Caledonia fell, and now SGC was unable to re-establish a wormhole to the planet. Presumably, the hostilities began anew, and the Stargate was buried somewhere under the rubble. Alice didn't know how to feel about that. On one hand, the Caledonians had the option to leave; by staying, they doomed themselves. On the other, however, she tried to put herself in their position; if another country threatened them with annihilation and there was a way out, but she'd have to abandon her home planet for ever… it would be extremely difficult to just give up Earth, even if that meant salvation of her people. Earth was home.

Jake visited her nearly every day; she was at the Air Force Academy Hospital, and he had an apartment in town, so it was an easy drive. He could only come after his shift ended, though, usually in the evening. A few other people visited, too; Bolton came by to praise her on a good escape, Fiona came by to wish her speedy recovery, and so did Sergeant O'Reilly, who brought flowers and blushed a lot, confirming Alice's suspicion that he had a thing for her. She found it cute, so she smiled at him kindly, which only made him redden more.

She was forbidden from walking further than to the bathroom and back for the first three days. Afterwards, the doctor gave her a green light and she went on exploring her surroundings. She still had to pause frequently and the cast, although smaller and lighter than the one from Caledonia, pulled at her so she was listing slightly to the left. Nevertheless, she went on a stroll on the Academy grounds every day. Technically, when he was giving her the okay to walk around, the doctor meant only the hospital's terrain; but Alice found it rather boring, so she ventured outside. Her Common Access Card allowed her entry to pretty much the entire Academy, but she kept well out of the way of everyone so as to not bother them, observing the life of the school with interest. She's never had that experience herself; she went to a civilian college, graduated and then joined by going through Officer Training School. It was completely different at the Academy. The young men and women here were not students, they were cadets. They had to contend with not only the learning program, but also a rigorous schedule, strict rules of conduct and extremely high expectations. They went about with serious faces, their shoes shined and their uniforms spotless. They carried their books in their left hands so that their right ones were free to salute. They were organized in squadrons, all participating in the same Cadet Wing. Alice watched them with a sort of detached curiosity. She realized the first-class cadets were in the Air Force as long as her. Most of them were only a year her junior; some two, and some were her age or even older. If she hadn't graduated high school early, she'd probably have chosen the Air Force Academy. Her father went through the Naval Academy in Annapolis, and her Uncle Simon – West Point. She didn't think she'd have any problems graduating here; she'd always been very focused on learning, and even at CalTech, imposed a rather strict schedule on herself, although it was more an attempt to avoid unnecessary human interaction than anything else. Athletics were not an issue, either; aside from close combat, she's always been on top with the physical training. That tended to happen when nearly your entire family was in the military and obsessed with keeping in shape. That was also how she first learned to shoot: her dad taught her and Jake. The strict military rules didn't bother her all too much. In fact the only thing she could think of that could have posed a problem for her had she joined the Academy were people relations. She's never been good at it and being a member of a cadet squadron was quite a different thing than having the same classes with people in a civilian college. You had to eat with the same people, study, work out, train with them; you didn't have much chance for contact with the outside worlds. In the first five weeks – during the Basic Cadet Training – you couldn't even receive phone calls. That rule relaxed afterwards, but it was still a good bet you'd be spending most of your time with the other cadets. Alice didn't think that would be very easy for her. On the other hand, maybe there were more people like Archer or Spinner out there, someone she could truly befriend? She couldn't deny that she was feeling a sort of emptiness in her life now that Archer was constantly away and Spinner was gone. She grew attached to them; to have this link severed was hurtful even to such a recluse as her.

But of course, the Air Force Academy wasn't only about teaching kids about life in the military; they also had normal classes and had to study hard, like any college student in the country. Alice saw them standing in groups, talking about assignments and projects. It was yet too cold, but Alice would bet her ukulele on the fact that they often studied outside, sitting on the grass, in warmer months, same as she had done at CalTech in her time. At one point she walked on a group of second class cadets in a heated discussion about the three-body problem. She bounded a corner of a building and found herself nearly among them; it took the young man speaking at the moment a few seconds to notice her. She saw his eyes slide off her left hand enveloped in white plaster and then to her right shoulder, the only place on her BDU where her rank insignia was visible, since her other sleeve had to be cut in half to allow for the cast. Then his hand went up while his heels clicked together and the three others followed suit, saluting her. She rendered the salute back somewhat less elegantly, slanted over to the left as she was.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to walk in on you like this," she said, smiling.

"No, ma'am, it's us who shouldn't be standing here," the boy acknowledged. He was only two years younger than Alice but she couldn't see him any other way than just a kid. She wondered if she were becoming arrogant or condescending, but she realized with surprise that she didn't really care anymore. She had survived something that by all accounts should have killed her. Many of her colleagues were gone. She hasn't done anything particularly heroic; just saved her own neck. And yet, it changed the way she felt about herself. Somehow it made her worthy of respect that she didn't think she deserved before.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," Alice noted. "The three-body problem, eh?"

"Yes, ma'am. We're Physics majors," he replied. "I was just explaining that it's impossible to solve."

"Is it, though?" Alice smiled even wider. It was one of the things that the knowledge brought through the Stargate allowed them to understand, and a very important part of calculations required for operating a spaceship – or a space-fighter. "Just because our current level of science doesn't permit us to solve it, doesn't mean it's impossible. If you assume from the start that it's not possible, then it never will be. A good researcher never stops asking why and how."

"That's what I've been trying to tell him!" Another boy said with a triumphant look at his friend. "You can't keep up this no can do attitude if you wanna be a 61D, mate!"

"He's right," Alice observed before the other cadet had time to rebuke. "And you don't wanna miss out on that. We'll need all of you brilliant kids in the service. Plus it's exciting!"

"You can talk, ma'am," the boy complained, gesturing at the badge on her chest: the pilot's wings.

"Well, it's all fun and games until it's not." She pointed at her cast. "But trust me, being a scientist in the service is a very good choice right now."

They nodded assent, but she could see it was rather halfhearted. No matter if they were in the Academy, the AFROTC, or the OTS, nearly every cadet wanted to become a pilot.

"Alright, I'll let you do what you do. Carry on!" Alice smiled to them again and they saluted and walked away. She continued on her stroll, pondering the encounter.

It was her last day there. After she was released from the hospital, Alice was put on convalescent leave and allowed to travel home, to L.A., as long as she didn't drive and took proper care of herself. She took a commercial flight from Colorado Springs airport and had to take a cab from LAX. She spent six days home, traveling the city by taxi, and visiting all of her close ones. Her mother was understandably shaken at her sight with the oversize cast on her arm; after losing her husband, and seeing already her son gravely injured, it was all she could do not to panic at her daughter being wounded as well. Alice reassured her that she was going to be alright; it was a lie, of course, she still didn't know how her recovery was going to progress. But she had to hide her worries from her fragile mother. Eileen was doing so well now; she hadn't had an episode since the one nearly two years prior; the doctors reduced her medication drastically so all the worst side effects were gone, too. Even her daughter's condition, though understandably disquieting, didn't make her spin back into the depression and anxiety she'd so often experienced at every minor worry in the past. She was nearly the same woman Alice had known from a child; more cautious and less energetic perhaps, but stable and happy. After Alice got back to her bedroom at home after the first visit, she sat down on her bed and cried for what seemed like hours. Overwhelmed with what had happened to her, with the pain which hasn't yet gone completely away, with the difficult recovery ahead of her; knowing that her planet was in danger and there was nothing she could do now to help defend it; and her mother doing so well she could very well soon be ready to go home, live her life to the fullest again. Something was changing, Alice could feel it; her life was at a pivotal moment. And now she realized what kind of decision she was facing. Maybe the injury was a blessing in disguise. Maybe it would make the choice simpler, the consequences easier to bear. She knew what she had to do.

The end.

A/N: Stay tuned for a short Epilogue and... well, it will come to nobody's surprise if I tell you part II of this story is already in the works? I'll share a link (well, as much as it can be posted on this site) once it's up. In the meantime, let me just remind you that I'm still sharing some notes and interesting facts on the dedicated Tumblr: shades-of-blue-ff . tumblr . com. Come and take a look!