Teal'c was right, of course. Sam had backups of everything. There was a folder in her personal directory called "Letters." Daniel clicked on it, entered the password she'd written in the letter – fishing – and scanned the list of files that came up.

Technically, he wasn't allowed to take any data off base. He wasn't even allowed to bring a USB drive in. Landry had given him permission – and a memory stick and a referral to the IT department if necessary – but said the files would likely need to be scanned for sensitive information. He hoped that didn't mean some random Airman would be reading Sam's letters, but he didn't know.

Taking a deep breath, Daniel plugged in the USB drive and waited. Most of the computers on base were configured not to accept them, but it wasn't surprising when the drive popped up on screen. Sam had had access to everything… and a smile that made technicians do whatever she asked. God, he missed that smile. Blinking back tears for the hundredth time, he dragged the files to the memory stick, ejected it, and closed the door to her empty lab behind him as he left.

~/~

George Hammond looked up as Jack O'Neill stepped into his office, a stack of manila folders in his hand. Setting the files on the desk, the younger officer said, "The staffing assessments, sir. Budget reconciliations for Groom Lake and the SGC. Requisitions for Atlantis, the Beta Site, and two projects at Groom Lake."

Hammond flipped through the folders and didn't find the single piece of paper he was looking for. "And a leave request for tomorrow?"

He probably wasn't supposed to see the way the other man's jaw tightened before he said, "No, sir. I figured you'd want to go. I can hold down the fort here."

Hammond just watched him for a moment, trying to figure out how to address the elephant in the room. Jack couldn't hold his gaze and stared at the desk instead. "Son," George tried finally, "I can't make you do this. Just remember that it's a decision you only get to make once."

"Understood, sir."

George took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. "Then I'll see you when I get back."

~/~

Daniel slumped into a thin plastic chair, defeated. "I don't know what to do. He won't answer my calls; he won't talk to me. I know he's hurting, and I don't know how to help." Setting his glasses in his lap, he pressed his palms to his closed eyes. "I can't believe he's not coming to her funeral."

Settling into the chair beside him, General Hammond put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. He didn't find it difficult to believe at all, actually; unlike the stoic military service, the funeral home was bursting at the seams with grief. Cassandra Fraiser had been crying in Teal'c's arms from the moment she'd walked in the door, and Mark Carter wasn't far behind. His wife struggled to comfort two upset children and manage her husband.

But what was there wasn't the worst part. It was what was missing. The casket twenty feet away was – and felt – unbearably empty. There would be no goodbyes, no closure. And so, for some people – for Jack, maybe – no point.

"How…. I mean, is he…. He's coming to work, right? After Charlie, he…."

"He's coming to work," Hammond reassured him. "In fact, I think he's gotten more paperwork done this week than in the last three months. I think he can deal with that as long as it means he doesn't have to deal with this."

They both knew that time would come though – for all of them. So for awhile, they just sat together, chests heavy with grief. It only got worse when Daniel asked, "How are you doing, General?"

Hammond glanced at the casket, so devoid of the life and energy and joy Sam Carter had always had. All he could manage was, "I held her at her baptism."

Daniel's eyes welled up and he put his head in his hands.