I do not own anything. If you recognize it, it is not mine.

I hope it is just the crazy amount of Whitney Houston songs I have recently listened to, but I am very discouraged by the scarce reviews of chapter 40. Writers are very insecure people, you know, so please review!

Originally, he had been fuming, but now he just felt overwhelmingly tired and hopeless. Also very guilty because of the way he treated Laura. She was still so easily frightened and he had gone and done that!

Suddenly his thoughts turned to what Laura's life had been like before she rescued them. She spent most of her life alone on this ship, working on science things or something… so it must have been a big adjustment for her. But she was too well adjusted to grow up on a ship with just one Asgard for company. Humans needed others. As a soldier he experienced firsthand how destructive solitary confinement was to sanity.

She didn't talked much about her past. But to be fair, he hadn't given her many reasons to trust him with these kinds of information. Maybe he should have left for Earth and let Daniel stay. He was the amateur psychologist of the SGC after all.

He heard Carter let out a quiet whimper, which made him hurry to her side. The tone of her voice was sad, which was far too often an occurrence these days. Guess that was understandable with all her past coming down on her as a ton of bricks... Wishing there was something he could do to make it easier on her, he took his usual place next to her bed.

Damn, how come she was so pale! Was he imagining it? Perhaps, since his judgement wasn't best recently. He wondered how come his life had gotten so messed up. A month ago everything was just perfect. A frustrated sigh escaped from his lips, causing him to check on Carter's face. She was still asleep, good.

Carter's brow was knitted tightly, her lips in a thin line too. She looked troubled, which in turn troubled him. She deserved more than lying in a hospital bed without her sight or memory. He was aware that SG-1 had been taunting destiny on regular basis, from his days onward, but he hoped their luck hadn't run out just yet.

She was recalling some events, which gave him some hope, but mainly she recalled missions. And every time he interacted with her he noticed how incredibly uncertain her notion of herself was due to the amnesia. She hesitated when she was speaking to her teammates, to the people who would do anything for her and whose lives she saved so many times. She wondered if it was a good idea to share abstract details that came back to her, without any context at first, afraid she might reveal something inappropriate about herself. It was deeply distressing to watch.

It reminded him of the moment he met her. It was like she still had that desperate need to prove that she deserved to be on the flagship team. She was too guarded, too conscious of everything she was doing. He mused on whether it was not the reason why she did not remember much during the day, when most time she was occupying herself with how she was perceived.

"Pete?" Carter's voice was low, but audible and it cut deep into O'Neill's heart. He didn't expect that. Until now her memories were coming back chronologically, so he didn't think that would need to be dealt with so soon. She murmured something else and in a perfect metaphor turned away from him.

Stupid cop! Not taking Carter at her word and spying on her. That in his book just didn't fly. You always trusted Carter because she deserved your unconditional trust. Period. She was too brilliant, too exceptional to be with someone like that.

O'Neill draped the blanket over her shoulders, so she wouldn't get cold and got into his usual bed. As he was lying onto his back and staring at the infirmary ceiling, his heart was still racing. And while he got some sleep, he wasn't feeling very rested when he woke up.

Yearning for an endless cup of coffee, he slowly stood up, rubbing his eyes with his fists. His body ached from sleeping on the hospital bed, but he didn't consider going back to the crew quarters. And not just because Teal'c was kelno'reeming constantly.

"Good morning, O'Neill."

The general turned around to see the Jaffa standing tall on the doorstep. It was too early for conversations.

"Ehm…" O'Neill grunted, feeling how sore he was. He was getting too old for this… stuff, he meant stuff.

"Is it not?" Teal'c raised his eyebrow, studying his brother in arms. O'Neill rubbed his temples roughly and then ran his hands through his hair, sighing. Everyone seemed on edge lately, the Jaffa thought to himself.

"I need coffee." O'Neill said, ignoring his friend's inquiry. "Will you stay here with Carter?"

"Of course. I will look after Colonel Carter and Gracie as well." Teal'c confirmed, showing O'Neill the bottle of milk he was holding. Then he finally shared the reason he came to the infirmary. "Laura is currently in the kitchen, waiting to talk to you."

"So early in the morning? You know what's up, T?"

"She needs to inform you of something." Teal'c said, not revealing he already knew. It would probably not help the situation.

"Alright." O'Neill said, wondering if there were any doughnuts available.

And there were, many in fact. Taking a plate, he put three chocolate filled ones on it and carried it to the table, where Laura was sitting silently. She was gripping an empty mug in one hand and her head propped up against the other. When he came closer, he noticed her eyes were closed. So that was why she didn't hear his greeting.

Coming back to the cupboard, he found his mug and proceeded to make coffee. He tried to be quiet, but even if he woke her up that could be a good thing. Her neck would thank him later. Still new to the Asgard coffeemaker, he managed to make coffee, but it wasn't as strong as he'd preferred. He filled his supersize cup to the top, careful not to spill any on the way to the table.

"Wow, someone is looking for one hell of a caffeine rush." Her proclamation was followed by a loud yawn.

"I am just hoping to consume enough energy to wake up. I haven't slept very well." With that he took a big bite out of the first doughnut.

"That is just perfect…" She said under her breath, her exhaustion fueling her sarcasm. She had hoped he'd be in a good mood, not grumpy and tired.

"Huh?" O'Neill tried to say, still chewing.

"Nothing."

Laura got up and refilled her mug with herbal tea. Looking from across the room, she could see him taking his jacket off. Then he took a large swig of coffee, then murmured in appreciation.

"Looks like you haven't slept much either." He noted when she yawned again.

"Yeah." She took her mug in both hands, bringing it to her lips.

"Teal'c said you have something to tell me."

"Of course he did." Her voice shook a little, so she tried to cover it up by sighing afterwards. She looked into the dark brown eyes that stared back at her, the bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she contemplated what to say.

"Listen, before all that... I owe you an apology." He started, interrupting Laura's thoughts.

"Uh? It's not necessary." She said carefully, her brain refocusing on the new topic. She was teetering on the verge on a breakdown and now she had to think about the weird confrontation they had the other day.

"It is. I crossed a line the last time we talked. You don't deserve to be treated like that."

"Okay." She swallowed with difficulty, meeting his gaze again.

Her answer surprised him. He didn't know what he expected, but not that. The vision of her panic was still fresh in his memory and he would have thought an apology would be welcomed. Finishing his first doughnut, he shrugged and washed it down with another gulp of coffee.

"Look, I know this is not a good time to tell you this, but Teal'c is making me."

"Oh?" He frowned, stopping before biting into another doughnut. That was very odd thing to say. "What do you mean?"

"This is important, so..."

"Okay." He put down the food on back on the plate. His voice was gentler now. "What is it?"

"Well… The Asgard who owned this ship, Balder, was a scientist studying the effects of prolonged cloning."

"Ri-ight." O'Neill's eyes narrowed as he undoubtedly wondered where she was going with this.

"You know, similar research to what Loki was conducting."

"I don't like where this is going."

"Oh God." She exhaled, her breathing ragged. She hid her face into her hands for a moment, before hesitantly looking up at O'Neill again.

"Are you okay? Have you eaten yet? You're so pale I think you're about to faint."

"I'm good." She gave him a shy smile. He was so caring. It took her back to when she came back from Gacillia, all shook up and scared. That attempt on her life terrified her to the core. She even had to take the herbal sedative to stop thinking about the assassin, the way she saw the life leave him as the crowd hanged him. But the comfort her father gave her was the best feeling ever.

Father? She couldn't get used to calling him that. From a very young age, she had the idea of a man somewhere in the universe, connected to her genetically. But after she met him and got used to referring to him by either his name or rank, even her inner voice rebelled against calling him father. It felt like a very foreign concept.

"Laura?" His voice has filtered through to her slowly.

"Sorry, I just don't know how to say this." She grunted in frustration, playing with her braid tensely.

"Just say it, nice and simple. I am not that bright even when I am not sleep deprived."

"Alright." Sighing deeply she closed her eyes. "Balder used your DNA material to make me."

"What?" His voice went all high-pitched and surprised.

Laura repeated word for word what she just said, nervous beyond belief. Well, this was awkward.

"No, I heard you, I just… What?"

"In order to study the long-term effects of cloning, he theorized that your DNA coupled with another more evolved gene sequence would result…"

"Okay, okay… Just stop! I get the why, but I thought I was protected from this gene meddling."

"He managed to circumvent these restrictions by not using cloning and rapid aging technology. The Asgard wanted to protect you from being cloned, but your genetic material still remained…ehm… potent?"

"Ah!" He stopped her speech, clearly uncomfortable. "Wait! How long have you known this?"

"Virtually all my life."

"And you didn't think it would be something I would like to know?"

"I did, but there wasn't good time to tell you."

"Not a good time! Are you kidding? You didn't have the time to tell me you're my daughter?"

"When should I have told you? When you were barely aware who and where you are? When you smuggled a bomb aboard? When your secrecy almost killed Sam and I had to spend days researching any possible way to reverse your mistake?"