A/N: Okay, so I have a little story to share with you, one that happened this week: I went to go see the new Underworld movie earlier this week, see, and I had an epiphany of sorts. I have to admit, lately I've been using some of the stuff I see on TV and read in books as both inspiration, and what not to do in my own work. And for those of you who've seen Underworld Awakening, you know the plot is completely underwhelming. And of course, as what usually happens when I'm faced with something like that, I had a brief moment of "oh-my-god-what-if-my-story-ends-up-like-this-and-all-the-readers-say-that-about-my-story-and..." Yep. Exactly like that.

But then I stopped and I considered this story. And then I was like "Pft. Please. This story has more plot than I know what to do with." :) Which is a healthy objective viewpoint for which I credit you lovely readers. Because without all the awesome feedback I've gotten, I'd have fallen into the pit of despair and self-doubt and might not ever have been inspired to actually finish this.

So thanks! Many, many thanks!

And here's the second part of the update. I hope you all like it! Enjoy!


Janet poked her head into the bedroom some hours later, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her patient was sleeping. At some point Daniel had moved to the bed, and Sam must have awoken more fully, because they were now curled up together. Daniel reclined against the headboard, slack-jawed and mouth open as he breathed. Sam's arms were wrapped around his midsection, her head pillowed on the muscles of her friend's chest. There was evidence of recent tears, and her features were still more haggard than Janet would have liked, but finally it seemed like the worst was behind them.

With a smile on her lips, she silently closed the door, then turned to meet the gaze of Cam, who stood watch at the front window. "They're both sleeping," she told him softly.

He nodded without taking his eyes from the woods outside. "Good. They both need it."

"So do you."

But Cam only shrugged. "Aw, I'm all right. I got the easy job."

Janet didn't bother to push it. Instead her thoughts turned back to the scene she'd just witnessed, and the questions that had been floating in her mind for days. She sat lightly on the arm of the nearest sofa, her gaze fastened on Cam as he turned back towards the window.

"So," she offered lightly. "Are Sam and Daniel…?" God, it was like she was back in high school.

Cam glanced at her, but when he looked away a wry grin split his features. "They're friends, ma'am." But he clearly knew something she didn't. He knew a lot of things she didn't. She wasn't surprised the friends were so tight-lipped. They were a careful pair, and something told her Sam was much the same way. There was that same guardedness in the Commander's blue eyes as well.

What shocked her more was the warmth that washed through her at Cam's candor. She'd have to be blind not to notice the toned physique and gentle eyes, but she was surprised at how much she'd come to value the man's trust in her. It was a trust Cam didn't exhibit, and though she couldn't explain it, the bond they seemed to share had made it easier to face the future she'd thrown herself into. It was a relief to know that maybe she wasn't imagining the could-have-beens in his gaze.

"I've noticed you've let Daniel have the most time with Sam," she continued, pushing aside her thoughts. "Do you mind if I ask why that is?"

She half-expected him not to answer, but he shrugged fairly quickly in response. "I've known Sam personally for a lot longer than Daniel has, since we met in the Academy. But those two have been serving together for a long time—that sort of bond trumps mine. And if it makes Sam more comfortable to have him around, then so be it."

"That's chivalrous."

"Not really." Cam's tone was gentle, but matter of fact. Just as he was looking out the window to the forest, it seemed as though he was on the outside of Sam and Daniel, looking in. It struck Janet as interesting, and she filed it away for later. "They both lost someone, recently. They haven't had a chance to grieve… Being able to grieve together will make it easier, I think. Maybe."

Janet accepted that with a heavy nod. But it only gave her more questions. Recently, Sam was dead. What had she been doing instead of lying six feet under? Had she gotten roped into some secret ops mission that had gone horribly wrong? Who had she lost? Was that why she had been in that facility? Had she been accused of war crimes?

It just didn't make any sense, and that wasn't even touching the issue of the mismatching x-rays. She wasn't even sure this was really Sam. But somehow, she sensed that Cam wouldn't give her the answers she was looking for. He seemed to defer to Daniel when it came to sharing information—they were both so reluctant, sometimes, like they were protecting her from something.

But that was absurd. She barely knew these men. And yet, she felt that the closer bond she felt with Daniel might give her the courage to ask those questions. Later. For now, they all needed rest.

She rose to her feet, and headed for the kitchen. "I'm going to make some lunch," she told Cam. "Want some?"

When he shrugged his affirmation, Janet was left to her bewildered thoughts. What had she gotten herself into?


When Sam opened her eyes again, her first impression was that she was warm. Not hot, like a fever. But pleasantly warm, a borrowed heat she shared with the familiar body under her cheek. Daniel. She'd recognize that mouth breathing anywhere.

But then her next impression was the sickening churn of her stomach, sending her scrambling from the bed reflexively. Daniel woke with a snort, but she was already gone, dashing to the bedroom door. But neither of them had accounted for her muscle loss, and her knees crashed to the hardwood when they buckled underneath her.

Sam barely had the presence of mind to snag the trashcan next to the door before her stomach clenched, pushing its meager contents up her throat and out into the hastily acquired bin. Tears poured down her cheeks as she heaved, again and again even after she was bringing up nothing but bile.

Daniel's careful hands pulled her hair away from her face, and Sam's cheeks flushed when she realized the effort was too little, too late. But the thought passed quickly when she continued to wretch. Somewhere off to the side the door opened, and a gentle hand brushed her arm.

Janet. Sam gripped the smaller hand tightly, unable to speak beyond the muted grunts and moans she managed to squeeze out between each cramping of her gut. Janet squeezed back, though her free hand lightly monitored her pulse. It was Daniel who rubbed gentle circles against her back.

"It's okay, Sam," she was told softly. "Just ride it out… We expected this." Sam leveled a hefty glare in the doctor's direction. Easy for her to say. "Yeah," Janet delivered glibly, as though reading her thoughts. "I know."

Sam attempted a deep breath, tentatively hopeful that the worst was past. But the moment of peace ended with another violent heave, and Sam was left hunched miserably over the trashcan. As if to top it all off, Cam arrived on the scene with his usual finesse.

"Aw, now, that takes me back." Cam leaned against the door frame, his features tightened to hide the undercurrent of concern that churned beneath. "I thought you learned your lesson back at the academy?"

Sam honestly tried to resent him for bringing up that painful memory. But it was so good to hear that drawl of his that she could only fight the smile that twisted her lips between heaves. Nice to see you too, Cam. She hoped he heard the sentiment, despite her current inability to speak without spewing. She managed to glance up at him, and was glad to see his smile was a little bit easier. He nodded, accepting her greeting with gentle reassurance.

After what felt like ages her stomach calmed, and she was finally able to rock back on her heels with a groan. Someone passed her towel, and she wiped her mouth. Suddenly, her eyes felt heavy, her momentary burst of energy flickering out like a candle. But Daniel was right there against her back, supporting her and rubbing her shoulders like he couldn't get enough of the contact. She wasn't complaining.

But for all her relief, she couldn't bring herself to meet their gazes now. She stared at the towel in her hand, the reality of the last… God, she didn't even know how long it had been. But the reality weighed on her, the facts clear despite the confusion in the timeline. Timeline. She hated that word. But the fact was that her friends had given up everything to save her.

She'd expect it from Daniel and Cam, but Janet… Janet had everything to lose, and yet here she was. Janet was a ghost to them like Sam was to this timeline. It was surreal, and there was only one way to address it. By ignoring it.

"Please tell me there's running water here," she quipped with a raspy croak. She needed a shower. Badly.

Janet offered a smile of relief. Apparently, she was of a similar opinion to Sam. "I'll help you get cleaned up." Her pointed look dared Sam to argue with her, and Sam's heart clenched at the sight of it. She'd missed her best friend. Missed her too much. "Give us a minute, Daniel, will you?"

Daniel hesitated, until Sam gave his hand a pat and nodded. She'd be okay. When he had closed the door behind him on his way out, Janet inspected her more closely. Sam let it happen, trying not to cry at the gentle, familiar touch. So kind, so warm, so unlike anything she'd experienced since her capture.

"How're you feeling?" Janet voiced softly.

Sam swallowed the lump in her throat. "Like I just tried to puke my liver up through my nostrils." Janet's mouth pursed into a displeased frown. "Sorry," Sam offered.

But Janet's features instantly softened. "I know. Sarcasm was always your first line of defense." A bright light was flashed into Sam's eyes, making her shrink back violently. The light disappeared. "All right, so you're still a little sensitive. That's all right."

Sam's lips parted, but Janet beat her to it. "So long as I keep my penlight out of your eyes, I know."

Janet got to her feet, then carefully helped Sam up as well. Their eyes met for a long moment, arrested by thoughts too heartfelt to voice. It struck Sam so odd it was almost comical—two dead women, both alive and both without words, neither sure what to say. But Sam knew where to start.

"Thank you."

Tears sprang to Janet's eyes, but before she could say anything in return, Sam listed slightly, her balance faltering abruptly. Janet steadied her, then graced her with a tight smile. "We can talk later," she assured her friend. "For now, let's get you in the tub before you pass out completely, huh?"

"A bath…" A bath sounded like pure bliss. Sam could feel her hair plastered against her skull, limp with accumulated oil and grime. And her skin crawled, as fleeting memories of hands and prodding fingers played at that back of her mind. "That sounds good," she said finally.

Janet nodded. "Thought so… But we take it slow, and when we're done you're back on bed rest for the rest of the day. You're still not quite up to speed."

Sam didn't have the energy to protest. "'Kay."

One of Janet's arms wrapped around her waist, helping her into the bathroom, while her free hand gripped Sam's firmly. A brief silence passed, but when they crossed the threshold into the adjoining bathroom, Janet broke the silence.

"It's good to have you back, Sam."

Their linked hands tightened on each other, conveying the calm familiarity that was so inbred. It occurred to Sam that she didn't really know this Janet—but she did. Janet may be different in that she was still living here in this reality, but the soul was the same. That same healer's soul was still there. In the facility it had been tarnished by too-white walls and a dark purpose. But here in the light of day it shone as bright and beautiful as it ever had in the true timeline.

"I missed you too, Janet."