A/N: I'm really sorry this is taking so long. I wrote this a while ago, and
the beta never got back to me, so I'm posting it now. Hopefully there
aren't too many mistakes, and I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting. I'm
already busy writing the next bits and hopefully this won't drag on much
longer.
hugs to suds and jo and kel. And of course Hoodate. *G*
Chapter Sixteen
Hammond sat silently, watching as Dr. Fraiser quietly entered the room with a wearied expression on her features.
Dr. Jackson was also exhausted, Hammond noted, there was a greyness in his skin that spoke of sleepless nights and guilt.
"How are they doing, Doctor?" Hammond asked, breaking the brittle silence.
Dr. Fraiser sighed, her brown eyes confused and worried. "I've stabilised them both, General, and they should pull through."
"But?" Hammond probed gently.
She sighed again, placing the folder onto the desk and looking up. "I'm not sure I fully understand what exactly is wrong with the Colonel. Major Carter's wound is a straightforward gunshot wound. The entry wasn't clean, and I had to fish out the bullet clean it up, but she should be fine. The Colonel, on the other hand, is displaying exactly the same symptoms as Major Carter, just not nearly as severe. His blood pressure is a bit low and his body is full of endorphins."
Dr. Jackson cleared his throat hesitantly. "Uh. Maybe this has to do with what Jack was saying the last time he was here."
Both Hammond and Dr. Fraiser looked at him expectantly.
"He said he was 'linked' to Sam somehow, remember? He just collapsed for no reason. Now he is - well, was anyway - fine. Isn't this maybe the same thing?"
Hammond frowned.
"So you're saying that because of this link with Major Carter, Colonel O'Neill is experiencing her injury and pain to a certain degree?"
Dr. Jackson nodded. "It is possible. A Nox - for all intents and purposes - healed the two of them. We know the Nox are capable of telepathy to a degree, so why shouldn't their healing methods have something do with it as well?"
Hammond thought about it, nodding his head slowly.
"Is there anyway for us to get in touch with the Nox?" Dr. Fraiser asked slowly.
"No, they buried their Stargate remember? And the Tollan took their technology with them. We don't even know where the Tollan are."
Hammond sighed, pushing his pen in front of him on the desk. "So all we can do now is wait," he said quietly, letting his eyes rest on Dr. Jackson.
Both Dr. Jackson and Dr. Fraiser nodded silently.
"I'd better head back to the infirmary, Sir," Dr. Fraiser said after a stretch of tired silence.
Hammond nodded absently. "Dismissed."
They left the room together, leaving Hammond sitting silently at the desk and staring at his unmoving pen.
~o0o~
The craft was silent and still.
Teal'c did not mind silence; it was of second nature to him. Very rarely did he engage in conversation that had no purpose - it was a waste of energy and made one anxious to converse at all times, including during battle.
He studied General Carter's profile, taking in the slight movements of muscles as he communicated with his symbiote. General Carter glanced across at him quickly, smiling apologetically.
"Sorry Teal'c, we're being rude."
"You are not," Teal'c shook his head and allowed a small smile to touch his lips. He held much respect for General Carter - both as a warrior and as a friend.
"We were just talking about Sam," General Carter continued. Teal'c watched as a small muscle tightened involuntarily above his eyes.
"Major Carter will recover."
General Carter glanced at him, doubt shining clearly in his brown eyes.
"I believe Dr. Fraiser will be able to heal her, along with O'Neill's assistance."
"But a staff blast Teal'c, causes massive internal damage."
"It was an injury caused by a staff weapon, General Carter."
"It wasn't?"
"No."
"Oh." General Carter frowned and glanced at Teal'c again, obviously confused. At times like these Teal'c thought that General Carter seemed a lot like O'Neill.
"It was a bullet wound from Daniel Jackon's weapon." General Carter's mouth opened slightly and his eyebrows rose significantly on his bare forehead. "How do you know?"
"It is not possible for it to be anything else. Were it a staff weapon injury, O'Neill would not have been able to cover it as he did for the wound would have been much larger. I believe that a bullet struck a rock and relaunched, accidentally striking Major Carter."
"A stray bullet from Daniel?" General Carter echoed softly, his eyes focused on the colours of hyperspace around them.
Teal'c merely nodded.
Daniel Jackson would be going through a period of guilt at this time, Teal'c knew, and until Major Carter awoke and assured him that he was not to blame, Daniel Jackson would carry the burden of guilt alone by choice.
"What about this business with Sam and Jack having a 'link' or something?" General Carter asked eventually.
"I believe O'Neill was telling the truth, General Carter. It would explain why he too collapsed after Major Carter, though he suffered from no significant injuries."
Once again General Carter nodded his head slowly in agreement, concern furrowing his brow. "What about when they wake up, Teal'c? Will they still be joined?"
Teal'c sighed. "I do not know."
"No, I don't suppose you would."
~o0o~
Daniel stared down at his empty desk, letting his eyes aimlessly trace the fine grain of the wood that had been polished until it shone. Absently he fingered a coffee ring left by careless placement of his favourite mug.
He'd shot Sam.
In the dim lamplight small bits of dust danced around, reminding him of Shu's Might.
He'd shot Sam.
He'd never liked violence, never liked the idea of carrying a gun and much less enjoyed using them. But over the last two years he'd become adept at handling the cold-hearted machines, his aim improving until he could match many of the men on the base.
He'd shot Sam.
Still, his aim was obviously off. How else would you explain shooting one of your best friends? Shooting the woman he was closest to, other than his wife.
Shooting Sam.
His eyes burnt hotly, and the scalding heat of a tear split over a dry, raw eyelid. He was going to cry. Again.
Sniffing angrily, he pushed away from the desk, letting his chair roll into a pool of darkness. The room was silent other than his breathing, insulated from the sounds of the base so that he might work undisturbed.
Undisturbed.
Yeah right, with memories of Sam bleeding and dying because of a stray bullet that he'd shot.
How was he supposed to work?
How was he supposed to live with the knowledge that he'd shot someone he cared about?
This must be what Jack felt like. This must be the kind of guilt Jack carried with him, day in and day out. Only Jack's would be worse because Charlie had died. Sam wasn't dead.
Not yet.
But there was no guarantee. There was no guarantee that she'd wake up, grin at him and share a coffee and a cookie with him even though she hated cookies.
And if Sam died, so did Jack.
So Daniel had effectively hurt two of his best friends, and might even be responsible for their deaths it they died.
His breathing was deep and shuddering, his muscles quivering and trembling with unvoiced emotion.
He felt like shit.
He felt worse than shit.
For the first time in his life, Daniel could fully understand Jack's one time desire to kill himself.
~o0o~
It hurt.
Everything hurt and his head was fuzzy.
He frowned, trying not to yawn because he knew from experience that the movement of his jaw would send his head exploding into a colourful blossom of pain.
Instead, he groaned.
He groaned loudly and deliberately.
"Colonel?"
Now that was a voice he recognised. A voice he recognised and didn't necessarily feel a shudder of fear creeping down his back at the same time. Unless of course she was wielding one of those big, honking, blood sucking bits of metal tubing that she wanted to stick into him.
Fortunately, he knew from experience that when one awoke in the infirmary after a bout of unconsciousness, Dr. Janet Fraiser did not tend to harass you with a sharp needle.
He groaned again, forcing one eye to open.
"Welcome to the land of the living," she greeted him, smiling down gently.
Living? This was living? This hurting, aching, painful-
Jack frowned.
Hurting? Why was he hurting? He hadn't even been injured - well, as far as he could remember anyway.
"Doc," he croaked out, groaning again just for the dramatic effect.
"How are you feeling, Colonel?"
Did she really want the answer to that question?
"What happened?" he asked instead, opening his other eye and gazing up at her fuzzy silhouette.
"I don't know, Sir. Why don't you tell me?" Man he hated those questions that all doctors learnt in medical school.
"We were in the temple, and Daniel was there." Jack's heart skipped a beat. "Carter-"
"She's stabilised, Sir, and on the way to recovery by the looks of it."
Jack relaxed. Fraiser had a point: he wouldn't be awake if Carter was gonna die.
Carter dying.
He shivered, goosebumps prickling over his skin.
Carter dying was something he didn't want to think about or go through again. It had been bad enough the first time round.
"What about me?"
She chuckled, resting a cool palm on his warm forehead.
"There's nothing wrong with you, Sir?"
He blinked. "There's not?"
"No."
"Then why-" he stopped. "Oh, that."
"If by 'oh that' you mean the apparent link that yourself and Major Carter have, then I'd guess that yes, that is why you're lying in the infirmary bed."
He nodded his head, closing his eyes again. He felt weak. Really weak.
"I'm tired," he whispered.
"Get some sleep, Sir," she said softly.
He relaxed on the bed, content between the warmth and safety of familiar white sheets. He faintly heard Dr. Fraiser ordering someone to get Daniel, but he was too tired to bother staying away.
Daniel would understand, sleep was a good thing.
~o0o~
Marking off the final readings on the chart, Janet allowed herself to stand for a minute longer and observe the Colonel while he was sleeping.
A gentle smiled touched her lips as she thought about his dramatic waking routine, his way of announcing that he was awake and well on the way to recovery.
They'd both be fine. She smiled again, slipping his clipboard back onto the holder at the foot of his bead. He wouldn't be showing signs of improving and getting back to normal if Sam wasn't getting better either.
Glancing across at the next bed where Sam was lying, a touch of concern shadowed Janet's eyes.
Sam would get better, her condition had stabilised over night - remarkably quickly - and her vitals were much stronger now.
The question that concern Janet the most - other than getting to the bottom of this 'link' between Sam and the Colonel - was whether Sam would heal completely. A bullet wound was one thing. A bullet wound in the abdomen was serious.
But a bullet that nicked the spine. that was a bad thing.
Janet swallowed determinedly, forcing the burning sensation in her eyes to disappear. Sam wasn't beaten yet, her recovery was remarkably good up to date, and if it continued like that Janet didn't see any reason for her not to recover completely.
With a quick glanced at her silver wristwatch, Janet scrubbed a hand through her short locks of hair and left the infirmary silently, making her way briskly up the corridor towards the sleeping quarters.
One last tour of duty before she called it a night - or a morning, depending on which way you looked at it - and went home for some sleep.
Daniel didn't respond to her knocking on the door, and after hesitating for a minute, Janet carefully pushed the door open and peered inside.
He wasn't there. The bed hadn't even been slept in.
She frowned. Had he gone home? She sincerely doubted that; no members of a team went off-base while a team mate was in the infirmary.
His lab, that was the only explanation.
Either that or the commissary where she was certain she'd find him sitting at a table gazing vacantly into space while clutching an ice cold half drunk cup of a coffee. Smiling reprovingly at his predictable behaviour, Janet turned and headed for the commissary first.
She could always grab the two of them a coffee if he wasn't there.
The commissary was empty, the only signs of life was one of the serving girls stacking a selection of cereal boxes on the shelf. With a smile, Janet noted the return of a box of Fruit Loops.
Helping herself to the strong brew from the self-serve counter, Janet made her way up to Daniel's lab.
The lab was dark and quiet, a small pool of orange light casting warm shadows over his cluttered desk.
"Daniel?"
Silence greeted her.
"Daniel?"
Walking carefully over to the desk, she placed the cups onto the familiar coffee rings present on his desk and turned the overhead light on, flooding the room with light.
"Go away," Daniel muttered from his corner, watching her moodily from a chair.
"I bring you coffee, and you want to send me away?" Janet asked jokingly, sympathy lending her words a softness.
"I don't feel like company right now, Janet."
"I know, so I'm not going to stay because I would like to get some sleep. I think you should get some sleep as well."
A bitter laugh issued from the darkness, and the guilt in his eyes scared Janet.
"They'll be fine, Daniel. The Colonel woke up about fifteen minutes ago, full of wise cracks and drama as usual."
Daniel sat upright in his chair, his eyes suddenly focused intensely on her. Janet shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, grabbing a mug of coffee and sipping it carefully. "Want some?"
Ignoring her offer, Daniel continued to gaze at her. "So he's okay?"
"He's asleep now, still tired and weak, but he should be fine."
"So Sam will be okay?"
Janet hesitated. She hadn't told Daniel about the bullet touching the spinal cord; only General Hammond had been privy to that information. Doctor-patient confidentiality. And the fact that if she'd told Daniel that there was chance Sam might be paralysed.
"She should be fine, Daniel."
Thank goodness for military training. Being able to lie through your teeth. A skill she was quite happy to have learnt.
Daniel issued a quiet sigh of relief, sinking back into his chair with a giddy smile on his face.
"I was so scared," he confided, closing his eyes. She watched as the tension almost flowed from his body.
"We all were," Janet agreed. "You going to drink your coffee before it gets cold or not?"
Daniel smiled again, a small chuckle sounding throughout him.
"Yeah."
"And then you're going straight to bed. I'll get General Hammond to post an SF outside your door if I have to," Janet threatened good-naturedly, carrying a cup over to him.
"Yes Mother." Daniel accepted the mug and drank thirstily. "Tell Cassie I said hi."
Janet smiled again and left Daniel drinking his coffee in peace.
~o0o~
And so we move on into the whumping territory. sorry if this is beginning to drag.
sharim
hugs to suds and jo and kel. And of course Hoodate. *G*
Chapter Sixteen
Hammond sat silently, watching as Dr. Fraiser quietly entered the room with a wearied expression on her features.
Dr. Jackson was also exhausted, Hammond noted, there was a greyness in his skin that spoke of sleepless nights and guilt.
"How are they doing, Doctor?" Hammond asked, breaking the brittle silence.
Dr. Fraiser sighed, her brown eyes confused and worried. "I've stabilised them both, General, and they should pull through."
"But?" Hammond probed gently.
She sighed again, placing the folder onto the desk and looking up. "I'm not sure I fully understand what exactly is wrong with the Colonel. Major Carter's wound is a straightforward gunshot wound. The entry wasn't clean, and I had to fish out the bullet clean it up, but she should be fine. The Colonel, on the other hand, is displaying exactly the same symptoms as Major Carter, just not nearly as severe. His blood pressure is a bit low and his body is full of endorphins."
Dr. Jackson cleared his throat hesitantly. "Uh. Maybe this has to do with what Jack was saying the last time he was here."
Both Hammond and Dr. Fraiser looked at him expectantly.
"He said he was 'linked' to Sam somehow, remember? He just collapsed for no reason. Now he is - well, was anyway - fine. Isn't this maybe the same thing?"
Hammond frowned.
"So you're saying that because of this link with Major Carter, Colonel O'Neill is experiencing her injury and pain to a certain degree?"
Dr. Jackson nodded. "It is possible. A Nox - for all intents and purposes - healed the two of them. We know the Nox are capable of telepathy to a degree, so why shouldn't their healing methods have something do with it as well?"
Hammond thought about it, nodding his head slowly.
"Is there anyway for us to get in touch with the Nox?" Dr. Fraiser asked slowly.
"No, they buried their Stargate remember? And the Tollan took their technology with them. We don't even know where the Tollan are."
Hammond sighed, pushing his pen in front of him on the desk. "So all we can do now is wait," he said quietly, letting his eyes rest on Dr. Jackson.
Both Dr. Jackson and Dr. Fraiser nodded silently.
"I'd better head back to the infirmary, Sir," Dr. Fraiser said after a stretch of tired silence.
Hammond nodded absently. "Dismissed."
They left the room together, leaving Hammond sitting silently at the desk and staring at his unmoving pen.
~o0o~
The craft was silent and still.
Teal'c did not mind silence; it was of second nature to him. Very rarely did he engage in conversation that had no purpose - it was a waste of energy and made one anxious to converse at all times, including during battle.
He studied General Carter's profile, taking in the slight movements of muscles as he communicated with his symbiote. General Carter glanced across at him quickly, smiling apologetically.
"Sorry Teal'c, we're being rude."
"You are not," Teal'c shook his head and allowed a small smile to touch his lips. He held much respect for General Carter - both as a warrior and as a friend.
"We were just talking about Sam," General Carter continued. Teal'c watched as a small muscle tightened involuntarily above his eyes.
"Major Carter will recover."
General Carter glanced at him, doubt shining clearly in his brown eyes.
"I believe Dr. Fraiser will be able to heal her, along with O'Neill's assistance."
"But a staff blast Teal'c, causes massive internal damage."
"It was an injury caused by a staff weapon, General Carter."
"It wasn't?"
"No."
"Oh." General Carter frowned and glanced at Teal'c again, obviously confused. At times like these Teal'c thought that General Carter seemed a lot like O'Neill.
"It was a bullet wound from Daniel Jackon's weapon." General Carter's mouth opened slightly and his eyebrows rose significantly on his bare forehead. "How do you know?"
"It is not possible for it to be anything else. Were it a staff weapon injury, O'Neill would not have been able to cover it as he did for the wound would have been much larger. I believe that a bullet struck a rock and relaunched, accidentally striking Major Carter."
"A stray bullet from Daniel?" General Carter echoed softly, his eyes focused on the colours of hyperspace around them.
Teal'c merely nodded.
Daniel Jackson would be going through a period of guilt at this time, Teal'c knew, and until Major Carter awoke and assured him that he was not to blame, Daniel Jackson would carry the burden of guilt alone by choice.
"What about this business with Sam and Jack having a 'link' or something?" General Carter asked eventually.
"I believe O'Neill was telling the truth, General Carter. It would explain why he too collapsed after Major Carter, though he suffered from no significant injuries."
Once again General Carter nodded his head slowly in agreement, concern furrowing his brow. "What about when they wake up, Teal'c? Will they still be joined?"
Teal'c sighed. "I do not know."
"No, I don't suppose you would."
~o0o~
Daniel stared down at his empty desk, letting his eyes aimlessly trace the fine grain of the wood that had been polished until it shone. Absently he fingered a coffee ring left by careless placement of his favourite mug.
He'd shot Sam.
In the dim lamplight small bits of dust danced around, reminding him of Shu's Might.
He'd shot Sam.
He'd never liked violence, never liked the idea of carrying a gun and much less enjoyed using them. But over the last two years he'd become adept at handling the cold-hearted machines, his aim improving until he could match many of the men on the base.
He'd shot Sam.
Still, his aim was obviously off. How else would you explain shooting one of your best friends? Shooting the woman he was closest to, other than his wife.
Shooting Sam.
His eyes burnt hotly, and the scalding heat of a tear split over a dry, raw eyelid. He was going to cry. Again.
Sniffing angrily, he pushed away from the desk, letting his chair roll into a pool of darkness. The room was silent other than his breathing, insulated from the sounds of the base so that he might work undisturbed.
Undisturbed.
Yeah right, with memories of Sam bleeding and dying because of a stray bullet that he'd shot.
How was he supposed to work?
How was he supposed to live with the knowledge that he'd shot someone he cared about?
This must be what Jack felt like. This must be the kind of guilt Jack carried with him, day in and day out. Only Jack's would be worse because Charlie had died. Sam wasn't dead.
Not yet.
But there was no guarantee. There was no guarantee that she'd wake up, grin at him and share a coffee and a cookie with him even though she hated cookies.
And if Sam died, so did Jack.
So Daniel had effectively hurt two of his best friends, and might even be responsible for their deaths it they died.
His breathing was deep and shuddering, his muscles quivering and trembling with unvoiced emotion.
He felt like shit.
He felt worse than shit.
For the first time in his life, Daniel could fully understand Jack's one time desire to kill himself.
~o0o~
It hurt.
Everything hurt and his head was fuzzy.
He frowned, trying not to yawn because he knew from experience that the movement of his jaw would send his head exploding into a colourful blossom of pain.
Instead, he groaned.
He groaned loudly and deliberately.
"Colonel?"
Now that was a voice he recognised. A voice he recognised and didn't necessarily feel a shudder of fear creeping down his back at the same time. Unless of course she was wielding one of those big, honking, blood sucking bits of metal tubing that she wanted to stick into him.
Fortunately, he knew from experience that when one awoke in the infirmary after a bout of unconsciousness, Dr. Janet Fraiser did not tend to harass you with a sharp needle.
He groaned again, forcing one eye to open.
"Welcome to the land of the living," she greeted him, smiling down gently.
Living? This was living? This hurting, aching, painful-
Jack frowned.
Hurting? Why was he hurting? He hadn't even been injured - well, as far as he could remember anyway.
"Doc," he croaked out, groaning again just for the dramatic effect.
"How are you feeling, Colonel?"
Did she really want the answer to that question?
"What happened?" he asked instead, opening his other eye and gazing up at her fuzzy silhouette.
"I don't know, Sir. Why don't you tell me?" Man he hated those questions that all doctors learnt in medical school.
"We were in the temple, and Daniel was there." Jack's heart skipped a beat. "Carter-"
"She's stabilised, Sir, and on the way to recovery by the looks of it."
Jack relaxed. Fraiser had a point: he wouldn't be awake if Carter was gonna die.
Carter dying.
He shivered, goosebumps prickling over his skin.
Carter dying was something he didn't want to think about or go through again. It had been bad enough the first time round.
"What about me?"
She chuckled, resting a cool palm on his warm forehead.
"There's nothing wrong with you, Sir?"
He blinked. "There's not?"
"No."
"Then why-" he stopped. "Oh, that."
"If by 'oh that' you mean the apparent link that yourself and Major Carter have, then I'd guess that yes, that is why you're lying in the infirmary bed."
He nodded his head, closing his eyes again. He felt weak. Really weak.
"I'm tired," he whispered.
"Get some sleep, Sir," she said softly.
He relaxed on the bed, content between the warmth and safety of familiar white sheets. He faintly heard Dr. Fraiser ordering someone to get Daniel, but he was too tired to bother staying away.
Daniel would understand, sleep was a good thing.
~o0o~
Marking off the final readings on the chart, Janet allowed herself to stand for a minute longer and observe the Colonel while he was sleeping.
A gentle smiled touched her lips as she thought about his dramatic waking routine, his way of announcing that he was awake and well on the way to recovery.
They'd both be fine. She smiled again, slipping his clipboard back onto the holder at the foot of his bead. He wouldn't be showing signs of improving and getting back to normal if Sam wasn't getting better either.
Glancing across at the next bed where Sam was lying, a touch of concern shadowed Janet's eyes.
Sam would get better, her condition had stabilised over night - remarkably quickly - and her vitals were much stronger now.
The question that concern Janet the most - other than getting to the bottom of this 'link' between Sam and the Colonel - was whether Sam would heal completely. A bullet wound was one thing. A bullet wound in the abdomen was serious.
But a bullet that nicked the spine. that was a bad thing.
Janet swallowed determinedly, forcing the burning sensation in her eyes to disappear. Sam wasn't beaten yet, her recovery was remarkably good up to date, and if it continued like that Janet didn't see any reason for her not to recover completely.
With a quick glanced at her silver wristwatch, Janet scrubbed a hand through her short locks of hair and left the infirmary silently, making her way briskly up the corridor towards the sleeping quarters.
One last tour of duty before she called it a night - or a morning, depending on which way you looked at it - and went home for some sleep.
Daniel didn't respond to her knocking on the door, and after hesitating for a minute, Janet carefully pushed the door open and peered inside.
He wasn't there. The bed hadn't even been slept in.
She frowned. Had he gone home? She sincerely doubted that; no members of a team went off-base while a team mate was in the infirmary.
His lab, that was the only explanation.
Either that or the commissary where she was certain she'd find him sitting at a table gazing vacantly into space while clutching an ice cold half drunk cup of a coffee. Smiling reprovingly at his predictable behaviour, Janet turned and headed for the commissary first.
She could always grab the two of them a coffee if he wasn't there.
The commissary was empty, the only signs of life was one of the serving girls stacking a selection of cereal boxes on the shelf. With a smile, Janet noted the return of a box of Fruit Loops.
Helping herself to the strong brew from the self-serve counter, Janet made her way up to Daniel's lab.
The lab was dark and quiet, a small pool of orange light casting warm shadows over his cluttered desk.
"Daniel?"
Silence greeted her.
"Daniel?"
Walking carefully over to the desk, she placed the cups onto the familiar coffee rings present on his desk and turned the overhead light on, flooding the room with light.
"Go away," Daniel muttered from his corner, watching her moodily from a chair.
"I bring you coffee, and you want to send me away?" Janet asked jokingly, sympathy lending her words a softness.
"I don't feel like company right now, Janet."
"I know, so I'm not going to stay because I would like to get some sleep. I think you should get some sleep as well."
A bitter laugh issued from the darkness, and the guilt in his eyes scared Janet.
"They'll be fine, Daniel. The Colonel woke up about fifteen minutes ago, full of wise cracks and drama as usual."
Daniel sat upright in his chair, his eyes suddenly focused intensely on her. Janet shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, grabbing a mug of coffee and sipping it carefully. "Want some?"
Ignoring her offer, Daniel continued to gaze at her. "So he's okay?"
"He's asleep now, still tired and weak, but he should be fine."
"So Sam will be okay?"
Janet hesitated. She hadn't told Daniel about the bullet touching the spinal cord; only General Hammond had been privy to that information. Doctor-patient confidentiality. And the fact that if she'd told Daniel that there was chance Sam might be paralysed.
"She should be fine, Daniel."
Thank goodness for military training. Being able to lie through your teeth. A skill she was quite happy to have learnt.
Daniel issued a quiet sigh of relief, sinking back into his chair with a giddy smile on his face.
"I was so scared," he confided, closing his eyes. She watched as the tension almost flowed from his body.
"We all were," Janet agreed. "You going to drink your coffee before it gets cold or not?"
Daniel smiled again, a small chuckle sounding throughout him.
"Yeah."
"And then you're going straight to bed. I'll get General Hammond to post an SF outside your door if I have to," Janet threatened good-naturedly, carrying a cup over to him.
"Yes Mother." Daniel accepted the mug and drank thirstily. "Tell Cassie I said hi."
Janet smiled again and left Daniel drinking his coffee in peace.
~o0o~
And so we move on into the whumping territory. sorry if this is beginning to drag.
sharim