"How is he, Doctor?"

Janet Fraiser turned to the gentle timber of General Hammond's voice as he stepped quietly into the darkened observation room overlooking Daniel Jackson. Right now, technically, it was overlooking Daniel Jackson and Samantha Carter. Janet had tried to argue with Sam at first, insisting she wasn't well enough to be sitting with Daniel, but in the end the doctor had relented. It frightened her, actually, how that acquiescence had come about. Sam had barely been able to sit up on her own when she asked to go to Daniel and when Janet persisted in denying her request Sam just went quiet, sullen. She gave up, which was so unlike Sam Carter to do, so much so that it scared Janet. She felt like the only thing she could do was allow Sam to see Daniel; in hindsight she berated herself for trying to refuse the request in the first place. Sam had just lost her good friend, her commanding officer; she NEEDED to see Daniel, to hear him breathe and watch him sleep. She had to know she'd not lost him, too. That first relent became Sam's constant vigil at the archaeologist's side, and against her better judgment Janet allowed it.

Janet watched the general emerge from the shadows to look down at the two in the isolation room. Sam was propped in a chair on Daniel's left side, thankfully his left because the major had fallen asleep with her head half-resting on Daniel's stomach, her arms folded possessively if unconsciously around Daniel's left arm. She didn't want to lose him too, so in sleep she held him. If the young linguist so much as stirred Sam would know.

Janet crossed her arms, "Little change, sir."

Hammond frowned, "It's been five days, Doctor... shouldn't we be seeing some improvement?"

Janet frowned, her soul heavy, "Yes, sir. I would have hoped he'd have at least waken up by now. General... we might have to consider the possibility that this coma could continue indefinitely." Shaking her head, Janet mused to herself, 'to think, it was Sam I had been worried about slipping into a coma and then it happens to Daniel'.

Hammond sagged. His eyes dropped then rose again to look at his two friends, sleeping the unfit rest of the wounded in the gray room. "Is there any chance the Tok'ra could help him, they have that healing device.."

Janet took a breath and held it, finally shaking her head, "I've thought of that, sir, and to be honest I've even discussed it with one of the Tok'ra last time we were in communication with them, but the fact is that while the healing device is great at healing body wounds it's next to useless for neurological problems. The brain is just too complicated to fix with a wave of anyone's hand."

Hammond tapped his knuckles anxiously against the monitor table as he asked in a softer voice, "What about Major Carter? How is she holding up?"

"Her wounds are healing nicely. With any luck she'll be able to walk around with a little assistance by the end of the week."

Hammond looked directly at her, "You know I don't mean her leg, Doctor."

Janet momentarily closed her eyes, "She's as well as can be expected, sir. She acts well... if Daniel doesn't pull through.." Janet stopped; she refused to let her mind walk that path.

Hammond softly touched her shoulder, effectively pulling Janet's attention back to him. "Doctor Jackson is going to make it, Doctor Fraiser, believe that."

Janet gave a wane smile, "I thought I was the medical expert here."

Hammond smirked then dropped his hand and looked back at the two members of SG-1. "Teal'c's been requesting permission to leave the SGC, some cock-eyed notion of joining the Tok'ra's efforts against Montu. I'm afraid he's taking Colonel O'Neill's death personally."

"Aren't we all?" Janet asked rather sharply.

Hammond didn't deny that, only continued, "He's got some warrior concept of revenge, and I'm not here to dictate his cultural ethics, but I don't want to see him run off trying to make some Goa'uld pay for what happened on that planet. I want to see Montu dead as much as the next person, but I don't want to lose more people needlessly to do it."

"All due respect, sir.." Janet began, but got nothing more out before Sam's voice suddenly called out, "Janet!"

Doctor Fraiser and General Hammond both looked toward the isolation room. Sam was sitting on the edge of her seat, right leg, bandaged and stiff, stuck out to the side as she leaned toward the bed, her hands clutched around Daniel's as she peered closely at his face. She looked up toward the observation room at Janet and Hammond, face sleep-mused but alert, "I think he's waking up!"

Janet was out the door faster than Hammond had ever seen a woman in heels move.

Janet hurried into the room, at once at Daniel's right side while Sam had struggled out of her chair to stand over her friend, one hand still holding his while the other smoothed over his forehead. "Daniel? It's Sam... can you hear me?" Daniel's face remained still.

Sam looked up at the doctor, "I swear, Janet, I saw him move."

Janet's soaring hope started to diminish, "It's not unusual for coma patients to make small movements, like a person in their sleep... it doesn't mean they're coming out of it."

Sam absolutely glowered at Janet and shook her head, looking again at Daniel as her fingers stroked through his hair, "Daniel... Daniel, listen to me... if you can hear me squeeze my hand." Both women looked desperately at Daniel's limp hand cradled in Sam's. Nothing. Just when Janet was about to look away there was purposeful movement, Daniel's fingers curling around Sam's, squeezing tightly.

Sam challenged, "Do coma patients do THAT?"

Janet leaned toward Daniel, "No, they don't," and pulled up one of his eyelids. His blue iris skirted away from the light, intentionally evasive. "Daniel. Doctor Jackson, I need you to open your eyes."

"Come on, Daniel," Sam whispered, still holding his hand fiercely.

Daniel's brow knit in a wince then he barely opened his eyes. Blue hints peeked between dark lashes as he tracked blurry vision first to Sam, then to Janet.

"Hello, Daniel," Janet smiled, "you gave us all quite a scare."

Daniel blinked, disoriented, then licked his lips, voice hoarse from disuse as he muttered, "Sorry."

Sam laughed uneasily.

"Uhh, what...?" Daniel began, still looking around in confusion.

"You've been in a coma for the past five days, since the mission to P78-294. Do you remember any of that?"

Daniel's face screwed in concentration, "I remember, um... we were under attack, the Tok'ra.." then his eyes flew open, "Jack!"

Sam and Janet exchanged quick, painful looks.

"It's all right, Doctor Jackson," Janet tried to soothe in a carefully trained voice.

"No, you don't understand, Jack was hit, I saw him. Is he okay?" Daniel tugged on Sam's hand as he looked between the women frantically.

"We can talk about that later, Daniel," Janet pushed back on his shoulder to keep him lying down, knowing her most frequent patient well enough to know any second he'd try to struggle out of bed, particularly if he thought one of his friends was in trouble, "right now you need to rest."

"But..." Daniel started to mutter.

Giving Sam a curt shake of her head, Janet smiled as gently as she could at Daniel, "I need to inform General Hammond of your condition. I'll be right back, okay?" she patted Daniel's shoulder with maternal affection and turned to leave the room.

Sam moved closer, voice strained, "It's good to have you back," and she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. Daniel's eyes were wide and innocent as he looked up at her, questioning. Sam tried to hide the truth, she did, but Daniel read people too well, understood Sam far better than she liked at the moment.

"Jack's... gone, isn't he?" Daniel whispered.

Sam felt a cry lodge in her throat but she refused to let it break free, instead only pressed her lips together and gave a teary nod.

Daniel blinked at her, childlike in his open need for comfort, his need to be told the monster under his bed wasn't real. Sam could offer no such reassurance, only touched his face softly, needing to feel him alive and warm beneath her touch.

"How..?" he croaked.

Sam looked away, swallowing heavily before she said, "He was killed on P78-294. We lost a lot of people that day... Colonel O'Neill.." Sam frowned and took her free hand away from his face to press at her lips. When she looked back at her friend a tear had tracked down the side of his face, his eyes locked on her. Even if Sam wouldn't cry Daniel had no reservations, a man whose friendships were worn on his sleeve, his bond to the late colonel always undenied in the young man's blue gaze.

Sam brushed the tear dry with her thumb. From the depths of her reserves she mustered a weak smile, "I'm just glad you're awake, Daniel."

Daniel blinked heavily. Another tear trailed down his temple as a glistening pool collected in the corner of his other eye, trapped from falling by the angle of his turned head as he looked at Sam.

When Janet finally returned to the room she knew at a glance that Daniel knew Jack was dead. Sam was trying to hold herself together and Daniel was crying. Janet ached for all of them, wishing she could have been there on P78-294, perhaps done something in the heat of the moment, maybe even enough to save his life.

Janet sighed and moved slowly toward the pair, resigned to the fact that people were lost in battles, and Jack O'Neill had been added to that painful list.