When Ian woke next, he was in a different room than the one he'd been in the last time. This one was bright and airy, with a huge window to his left that allowed sunshine to stream in – although it wasn't directly on his face, which would have been uncomfortable. It was also smaller, but cozier, and the privacy curtains were pulled back, revealing that his was the only bed in the room.

His own private room.

Huh.

He tried to lift his head to look around, but that hurt his neck and shoulder. And not just a little. The first stabbing of pain was quickly followed by a throbbing in his side that wouldn't ease no matter how many different ways he tried breathing, and about the time he was going to start really bitching about hurting, his head decided to join in the fun and started throbbing as well – in time to his heartbeat which was going faster now that he was awake and feeling pain.

"Jesus…"

"Hey, you're awake, huh?"

A voice he didn't recognize spoke to him from just to his left, and ignoring the pain as well as he could, he turned his head. And saw a Marine Sergeant standing near the door.

"Who are you?"

"Sergeant John Acker. Your guard for the afternoon."

"Afternoon?"

"Yeah."

"What time is it?"

The Marine looked at his watch.

"15:47. That's three-"

"I know how to tell time, Jarhead…" Ian interrupted.

Acker shrugged.

"Next time you can look at the clock on the wall you little dipstick." He pointed to the wall at the foot of Ian's bed, which had a clock right there on it.

Ian smiled.

Touché.

"You're my guard?" Ian asked, changing the subject.

"Yup."

"What for?"

"In case your mouth runs away with you," Acker drawled. "Of course, I can't imagine that happening… you seem like such a quiet, likeable kid…" Oh, that was sarcastic, wasn't it? Ian would have enjoyed the conversation a bit more if he wasn't feeling like he was going to implode from pain at any minute, but he did have to admit he liked this Marine.

"What are your orders?" He asked him, curiously.

"To watch you, and make sure you don't wake up and spout off something that you shouldn't – and to report to Doctor Fraiser when you wake up."

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"I'm awake. Shouldn't you be reporting that?"

The Marine smiled; he might have been pissed off to be getting attitude from the little pecker, but he'd heard what had happened, and had seen the guy with the broken knee that had ended up being admitted into the hospital for surgery on that knee. He figured the kid couldn't be that bad if he had the stones to go up against five guys and manage to take them down.

"I'm waiting for you to say the magic word."

"Fuck you."

Close enough.

With a snort of amusement the Marine left the room, and a moment later Janet Fraiser walked in, looking a lot better than she had the last time Ian had seen her. At least, looking like she'd gotten some rest. She walked over and rested her hand lightly on his cheek.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

Janet frowned. That wasn't going to do. Why was it everyone thought they were fine when she asked them how they were doing? How was she supposed to treat fine?

"I need a bit more than that, Ian. If you're hurting, I need to know it so I know if I need to give you some painkillers, and I need to-"

"I hurt," he interrupted, not ready to put up with a lecture, even when he was on his back. "A little…"

A lot, from what Janet could see, to judge by the way he was wincing, and the shallow breathing and the beads of perspiration on his forehead. She was good at reading those signs in her patients, after all.

She reached over and pressed a button at the base of his main IV, allowing the flow of a dose of painkillers directly into his bloodstream, and noticed the effects immediately when his tight expression eased up a bit.

"Better?"

He nodded.

"Thanks."

She smiled and used a wet cloth to wipe his forehead free of the sweat, and to cool it a bit. He was running a slight fever, although there was no sign of infection, and she didn't think there would be.

"There's a long line of people waiting to see you…"

"Yeah?"

She nodded.

"I sent everyone home – well, you sent Sam and Jack home, but I sent the others – but they're all back now, and anxious to talk to you themselves to make sure you're really going to live."

"And I am, right?" He remembered asking her that the last time he'd been awake, and her affirmative answer.

She nodded, again.

"Jack and Sam have both been sitting with you, but I kicked them out to go get something to eat. So you can choose; the police, the Commandant of the Air Force academy, your roommates – who have promised to be on their best behavior, General Hammond, or my daughter." She gave him a bland look. "I suggest you go in order of rank – but start with the police, who seem almost desperate to get a statement from you."

"Did they find the guys?"

Janet nodded.

"One of them is here in the hospital – and I know for a fact another has been treated elsewhere for a broken nose and a bruised kidney."

"That must be the guy that shot me… I got a lucky hit on him."

"I'd say you were lucky all around," Janet told him, smiling. "So who do you want to talk to first?"

"The cops, I guess," Ian said. It wasn't who he really wanted to talk to first, but it made sense.

"I'll send them in."

She left the room, and a couple minutes later, Sergeant Acker returned with two police officers – one Sergeant and one that Ian recognized as Officer Reyes from the Dairy Queen incident. With Acker standing over them to make sure they didn't ask anything that was classified, or that Ian didn't give any information other than what was pertaining to the case, Ian gave them a statement, easily pointing out the pictures of all five men when handed a book filled with mugshots, and telling them exactly what happened – which didn't differentiate much from what Bob Danson had told Jack the night before.

When the police were finished, they thanked him and told him they'd get in touch with him soon, and then left, and Janet came back into the room to check on how he was doing before allowing him another visitor.

"General Hammond or the Commandant?" She asked.

"Cassie…"

Janet raised an eyebrow at that, but Ian didn't make her ask him for an explanation.

"I don't feel like being grilled anymore," he admitted. "I want someone who isn't going to ask me what happened, or reassure me that the guys who did it are going to be taken care of. I want someone restive and quiet – which rules out Shawn and River, and since my mother wasn't on that list of people you gave me, Cassie will do…"

Still looking slightly suspicious – even though the explanation made complete sense, Janet nodded.

"I'll be right back…"

She wasn't, though. A minute later when the door opened, Ian saw Cassie come through it, looking scared and pale. He gave her the best smile he could manage, and frowned when she got closer, because he could see tears were welling up in her eyes, and coursing down her cheeks.

"Hey… what's wrong?" Ian asked her. "Don't worry, Cassandra, I'm not going to look this bad for long, I promise…"

He tried to reach his hand out to her, but she was on the wrong side, and he couldn't reach her with his good hand.

Cassie came over to the other side, and for lack of a better place to sit, she carefully sat on the edge of his bed, like she'd seen so many others in the SGC do in her mother's infirmary. Only now, she knew why they'd always looked so tired and worried. She took his good hand, and he squeezed it, trying to reassure her, but the tears kept falling, despite her efforts to hide them, and to brush them away.

"Cassandra…" Ian hated seeing her cry, and his heart was just turning to goo to watch her hurting so. Especially over him. "Don't be like that. I'm fine… and even if I wasn't, I'm an asshole, remember? You're not supposed to be worried about guys like me…"

He didn't have a free hand to brush the tears away, or he might have tried to, but Cassie brushed them away herself.

"I was so scared…"

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to sca-"

He was cut off when Cassie leaned over and brushed her lips against his, ignoring the fact that his lower lip was swollen from a punch. Ian released her hand and brought his good hand up to the back of her neck, gently holding her in the position she was in for a long moment as he returned it, not deepening it, but telling her in that kiss that he was sorry, and that she didn't have to worry about him, he was going to be fine and she was, too-

Then there was the sound of someone clearing their throat conspicuously, and Cassie jerked her head up, guiltily, and both of them turned towards the door.