Section 31: Mission's End
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The infirmary was quiet when Jack got back from getting John and Aeryn settled. Sam was fast asleep, her face smoothed of any pain from her shoulder wound. They would probably get an extended downtime once Frasier updated the General on her condition and frankly, Jack was looking forward to it. It had been a long week since his team had first 'gated into the alternate universe and they could do with the rest.
Two beds over, D'argo lay in recovery on his stomach, his neck bandaged in white. Jack just watched him for a moment, his mind finally tired enough to relax. He felt like he hadn't had time to think in all the fighting and escaping. And the blowing up of ships. And just . . . everything else. Did he always feel this tired after missions?
"Hey." Janet arrived quietly to check on her patients. "I thought I told you to go home."
Jack smiled and shook his head. "Don't you know this chair had my name on it?"
"I know. But you should still get some rest tonight."
"We're on stand down."
"Which means you should be resting," Janet glared at him until he looked away and shrugged. It was an old game between them. She knew he wasn't going to move no matter what she said but she had to try.
"How's D'argo doing?" Jack changed the subject. It wasn't subtle, but she would have seen through subtle too.
As it was, the doctor gave him a lingering look before going along with it. "As far as I can tell, he's recovering nicely. I still haven't gotten his blood work back yet but it sure made surgery interesting."
"Aeryn kept hitting his neck to keep it flowing."
"That's what they said," Janet nodded.
"Is there any way we can duplicate its effect?" Jack asked tentatively. "I'm not saying we should experiment on him, but if we have his blood . . . it's a poison that we know kills the Goa'uld."
"We'll know more when the lab gets back," Janet shrugged this time. "I'll talk to him about it when he wakes up tomorrow, though, see what he thinks."
"He's a good guy," said Jack. "Pretty straight forward." Janet nodded.
"Go home, Colonel," she turned to him. "Or at least sleep on one of the spare beds."
Jack smiled back and waved as the doctor left for home herself. With a sigh he fidgeted around in his chair to find a more comfortable spot while sat watch over his downed Major and their new friend. Eventually he would fall asleep on the empty bed between them, but for now he was content to let his mind wander nowhere in particular and wait.
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Sam's eyelids felt heavy, heavy enough that all she wanted was to roll over and snuggle into the pillow beneath her head. The dull ache in her shoulder throbbed gently underneath the pull of the painkillers, effectively squashing her previous desire to roll over. Instead, she opened her eyes to the quiet infirmary. The lights were dim and the room hummed from the monitoring equipment. Colonel O'Neill dozed in a chair next to her bed.
She smiled. Always at vigil, or at the least, close by whenever she or her teammates were down. Though she would never admit it, Sam found it very comforting - and a sign of imminent disaster if he wasn't there. Closing her eyes again, she fell back into a light sleep.
The creak of the chair woke her again. Sam didn't know how much time had passed, but now the Colonel was watching her. He smiled when her gaze met his.
"How are you feeling?" he asked in a low voice.
Sam had the good sense not to try to shrug. "Pretty well, all things considered, sir," she said. "Had worse." He gave her an incredulous look, which was rather comedic and made her smile. "Really, sir. I'm fine."
"You call a staff blast 'fine'?" He was teasing her.
"You've said worse."
"Not by much."
"That's because you don't *say* anything. You just pretend you're not hurt. Sir."
"And who is it that spends most of their time in the infirmary?" he replied archly with a pointed look.
"Daniel," Sam shot right back, tongue firmly in cheek. The Colonel opened his mouth to say something but then shut it, conceding the point with a grin. For Sam, it was like the mission had finally ended. The banter felt good after the last few days and helped relieve the tension wrought from combat and a precarious situation.
"We're on stand down for a couple of days," O'Neill told her, settling back into his chair with another groan of plastic.
"How are the . . . others from Moya?" Sam didn't quite know what to call them as a group since they had no official name.
"D'argo's recovering. John and Aeryn are asleep in the VIP quarters. Daniel wants to have them for dinner tomorrow night. They've taken everything in stride so far," he answered.
"Once D'argo has recovered, they're going back?"
"We haven't talked about it yet, but I guess so."
"Did Janet say how long that would be?"
O'Neill shook his head. "Why?" he asked.
"I want to talk to John about wormholes again. There's so much we just touched on when we were figuring out how to get back. This whole new perspective on wormholes is just fascinating - sorry, sir," she stopped herself before his eyes glazed over. But it was fascinating. What she'd learned already had given her ideas for a dozen experiments, especially now that they had their own spaceship they might actually be able to form their own free wormhole, though they probably shouldn't do it near Earth, since John had said something about destroying planets. Maybe -
"Carter," the Colonel said a little more loudly to get her attention. "You can ask the Doc tomorrow. Go back to sleep."
All of a sudden, tomorrow couldn't come fast enough. New breakthroughs were always exciting. But the ache in her shoulder settled Sam down somewhat. She knew from experience that pushing herself now would only hinder her recovery, so she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. But the Colonel was snoring long before she was.
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The infirmary was quiet when Jack got back from getting John and Aeryn settled. Sam was fast asleep, her face smoothed of any pain from her shoulder wound. They would probably get an extended downtime once Frasier updated the General on her condition and frankly, Jack was looking forward to it. It had been a long week since his team had first 'gated into the alternate universe and they could do with the rest.
Two beds over, D'argo lay in recovery on his stomach, his neck bandaged in white. Jack just watched him for a moment, his mind finally tired enough to relax. He felt like he hadn't had time to think in all the fighting and escaping. And the blowing up of ships. And just . . . everything else. Did he always feel this tired after missions?
"Hey." Janet arrived quietly to check on her patients. "I thought I told you to go home."
Jack smiled and shook his head. "Don't you know this chair had my name on it?"
"I know. But you should still get some rest tonight."
"We're on stand down."
"Which means you should be resting," Janet glared at him until he looked away and shrugged. It was an old game between them. She knew he wasn't going to move no matter what she said but she had to try.
"How's D'argo doing?" Jack changed the subject. It wasn't subtle, but she would have seen through subtle too.
As it was, the doctor gave him a lingering look before going along with it. "As far as I can tell, he's recovering nicely. I still haven't gotten his blood work back yet but it sure made surgery interesting."
"Aeryn kept hitting his neck to keep it flowing."
"That's what they said," Janet nodded.
"Is there any way we can duplicate its effect?" Jack asked tentatively. "I'm not saying we should experiment on him, but if we have his blood . . . it's a poison that we know kills the Goa'uld."
"We'll know more when the lab gets back," Janet shrugged this time. "I'll talk to him about it when he wakes up tomorrow, though, see what he thinks."
"He's a good guy," said Jack. "Pretty straight forward." Janet nodded.
"Go home, Colonel," she turned to him. "Or at least sleep on one of the spare beds."
Jack smiled back and waved as the doctor left for home herself. With a sigh he fidgeted around in his chair to find a more comfortable spot while sat watch over his downed Major and their new friend. Eventually he would fall asleep on the empty bed between them, but for now he was content to let his mind wander nowhere in particular and wait.
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Sam's eyelids felt heavy, heavy enough that all she wanted was to roll over and snuggle into the pillow beneath her head. The dull ache in her shoulder throbbed gently underneath the pull of the painkillers, effectively squashing her previous desire to roll over. Instead, she opened her eyes to the quiet infirmary. The lights were dim and the room hummed from the monitoring equipment. Colonel O'Neill dozed in a chair next to her bed.
She smiled. Always at vigil, or at the least, close by whenever she or her teammates were down. Though she would never admit it, Sam found it very comforting - and a sign of imminent disaster if he wasn't there. Closing her eyes again, she fell back into a light sleep.
The creak of the chair woke her again. Sam didn't know how much time had passed, but now the Colonel was watching her. He smiled when her gaze met his.
"How are you feeling?" he asked in a low voice.
Sam had the good sense not to try to shrug. "Pretty well, all things considered, sir," she said. "Had worse." He gave her an incredulous look, which was rather comedic and made her smile. "Really, sir. I'm fine."
"You call a staff blast 'fine'?" He was teasing her.
"You've said worse."
"Not by much."
"That's because you don't *say* anything. You just pretend you're not hurt. Sir."
"And who is it that spends most of their time in the infirmary?" he replied archly with a pointed look.
"Daniel," Sam shot right back, tongue firmly in cheek. The Colonel opened his mouth to say something but then shut it, conceding the point with a grin. For Sam, it was like the mission had finally ended. The banter felt good after the last few days and helped relieve the tension wrought from combat and a precarious situation.
"We're on stand down for a couple of days," O'Neill told her, settling back into his chair with another groan of plastic.
"How are the . . . others from Moya?" Sam didn't quite know what to call them as a group since they had no official name.
"D'argo's recovering. John and Aeryn are asleep in the VIP quarters. Daniel wants to have them for dinner tomorrow night. They've taken everything in stride so far," he answered.
"Once D'argo has recovered, they're going back?"
"We haven't talked about it yet, but I guess so."
"Did Janet say how long that would be?"
O'Neill shook his head. "Why?" he asked.
"I want to talk to John about wormholes again. There's so much we just touched on when we were figuring out how to get back. This whole new perspective on wormholes is just fascinating - sorry, sir," she stopped herself before his eyes glazed over. But it was fascinating. What she'd learned already had given her ideas for a dozen experiments, especially now that they had their own spaceship they might actually be able to form their own free wormhole, though they probably shouldn't do it near Earth, since John had said something about destroying planets. Maybe -
"Carter," the Colonel said a little more loudly to get her attention. "You can ask the Doc tomorrow. Go back to sleep."
All of a sudden, tomorrow couldn't come fast enough. New breakthroughs were always exciting. But the ache in her shoulder settled Sam down somewhat. She knew from experience that pushing herself now would only hinder her recovery, so she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. But the Colonel was snoring long before she was.
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