"Sixty-six bottles of beer on the wall, sixty-six bottles of beer, take one down, pass it around, sixty-...five bottles of beer on the wall..."

There was a pause and Carter blinked one eye open.

"Sixty-five bottles of beer on the wall, sixty-five bottles of beer, take one down pass it around sixty-four bottles of beer on the wall..."

Another pause. Pain started to envelope her as other parts of her body awoke. Her first true thoughts were that it hurt and she didn't want to know why, nor where the voice was coming from. She wanted to sleep. Her once active brain started to comply...her eyes started to close...

"Sixty-four bottles of beer on the wall, sixty-four bottles of bee-eer...ah...ow. Take one down, pass it around...sixty-three bottles of beer on the wall."

It was back. The voice. She groaned. Why? Why couldn't the fool responsible for the noise shut up so that she could get some sleep. Couldn't he see she wasn't feeling well? And then there was that annoying sound of stones rolling around, and falling on occasion. And the wind, when had that happened? Did the wind just normally pick up like that in her apartment?

She sighed and shook her head ever so slightly. She would shut the window later. Right now she needed...to get...some more...

"Sixty-three bottles of beer on the wall, sixty-three bottles of beer, take one down, pass it...around...sixty-something bottles of beer on the wall."

"Would you just shutup!"

Jack's head snapped up, the mumble catching him a bit surprised, but he was just as happy as if it hadn't. His voice was raw from shouting and singing and cracked a bit with the question. "You awake over there, Carter?"

Sam blinked a couple of times, the voice in her head and the voice to her left vying for attention. "Huh?" She lay for a couple of seconds, blinking at the green, blue, brown thing in front of her until it came into focus. Ah, a plant. Nice. Shifting her focus to the side she made out more of those plant-things. And some rocks. The type that would make a plopping sound of they were thrown into...lake. SOS. The Colonel.

"Colonel!" She pushed herself up to her knees and grabbed hold of the nearest rock as the whole valley spun violently. Not valley, more like a trench she thought. Her eyes eventually focused and she got a better look. Or atleast as good a look as she could get in the semi-darkness.

"Colonel? Where are you?"

"Right in front of you, head towards the light."

"What light, sir?"

The Colonel groaned as softly as he could, yanking again at the stubborn flashlight caught between the ground and his right side. Three or four tugs and it finally gave, nearly flying out his grip. Once he had a solid hold on it he flipped it on and flashed it around the trench he was lying in. It took little time to find Carter, and she looked no better than she had the last time he'd been able to see her.

The bright light in her eyes was like a hot poker in her brain, and having just found her feet she was loathe to loose her balance or anything else for that matter. She made a painfilled noise and covered her eyes leaning against the nearest wall until the pain had passed.

"Sorry, 'bout that."

"No problem sir." She answered softly. "Does it look bad?"

Setting the light down, the beam perpendicular to the ground, Jack took a deep breath. "Well, you won't make Miss America that's for sure."

Sam's face broke into a smile, her body still turned into the wall. She blinked her eyes open until the spots dissappeared and searched the ravine again. The beam of light, heading straight for the stars was easy to spot. And so was the body of her CO. The lower half of him was pinned under what appeared to be a massive log, or perhaps a pole. She couldn't tell what it was made out of, but concidering it's mass, and the rocks piled around where the Colonel's legs should have been visible . . . it wasn't good.

"God . . . "

"If you're praying already, Major then I don't want your help." She noticed for the first time the strain in his voice and made haste getting over to him.

"Are you alright, sir?"

O'Neill gave her the mother of all eye rolls at the question and answered with a heavy layer of sarcasm. "I've been better. How about you help get it off'a me."

"Sir, that's not a good id-"

"How bad are you hurt, Major?"

Sam paused, now kneeling beside the Colonel's upper half, laying a hand against his forehead. She drew the hand back at his question. "M head hurts and I may have bruised a few ribs . . . " She shrugged, sore, tired, worried. To say the least.

"Do you think you can lift it?"

"Well sir, you shouldn't move it. You may have-"

"Can we move it?"

"Sir, you're..."

"I WANT IT GONE CARTER! Look." Grabbing the flashlight from the ground violently, Jack shone it into a gap between the log/pole and the ground to his left.

The beam lit up what appeared to be a rag of some sort and then a blue-ish, gray-ish tint of leather. Or something like it.

"Holy..."

"They're Asgard, Carter. And there dead."

Carter swallowed hard.

"Do we know them?"

"I don't know...but I don't intend to lie here any longer either."

Carter nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving the small patch of exposed skin until she had positioned a splinter of the log under neath the heavy main piece. "Ready whenever you are, sir."