When he left the Commandant's office, Ian wasn't sure to be angry or relieved. Angry, because the old bastard had no business telling him what to do with his life – and certainly had no business keeping him in the academy when he obviously wanted to leave – although his argument had been pretty good for giving him that authority, Ian had to admit. There was enough truth in the whole you're in the academy and I'm in charge of the academy so therefore I'm in charge of you thing that it might be real. Hell, there might even be a precedence or something to it. Maybe the old bastard did have the authority to make him do whatever he wanted to… even if it meant keeping him in the academy. Obviously he could make him do whatever he wanted on school grounds, but could he really back up that order to talk to Shawn?

Relieved… because deep down Ian didn't like the fact that he didn't want to face Shawn. It smacked of cowardice and like the Commandant had said, he'd been running. And running wasn't something Ian liked to do. If the Commandant could force him to face that, then Ian would have to do it, and doing it was something like taking medication that tasted like shit. It wasn't something you wanted to do, but once you choked it down and did it, you usually felt better. And Shawn probably had a right to have a chance to scream and yell and chew Ian out for the stupid idea he'd given him that had killed his parents. And Ian needed to see Shawn – even if it was only for a bit – because he had to make sure he was okay.

By the time he'd reached his room, he still wasn't sure how he felt, and he hadn't even had a chance to consider what the Commandant had told him about Jack coming to see him. He didn't even have time to wonder what Jack possibly could have in mind for him at Cheyenne Mountain, and presumably the SGC.

"Jesus, Brooks, what Salvation Army did you stop at to buy that suitcase?"

River couldn't help himself. Jack had arrived at his room – where River had been studying some flight simulation data – and had given him a quick summary of what had taken place, as far as he knew. He'd warned River that Ian looked worn out, and off-balance, and a whole host of other things, and River had planned on asking him if he was okay the first thing. And then he'd seen the ugly case that Ian was carrying, and couldn't help himself.

Just like Ian couldn't help his response, even though he was still distracted by the conversation with the Commandant.

"I didn't want your ugly pajamas feeling so lonely," he said as he closed the door and put the suitcase up on his bunk. "I figured they'd feel right at home in the closet with this thing."

River grinned, despite his worry for Ian, because Colonel O'Neill was right; Ian looked like shit. And even worse with that ugly suitcase that was just going to have to be burned some day. (And his mom gave him those pajamas, and they weren't that bad – at least no one ever wanted to steal them)

"I hear you went to LA."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"To look up your sisters."

"Dumb ass." He knew Ian knew he lived in San Diego.

Jack smiled slightly as he watched the exchange, reminded of the time when he was that age and he and his college roommates used to talk back at each other like that. Maybe worse at times, but not always. And always about the other guys' sisters – but never their mother, unless you wanted to get into a real fight with them, because that was the kind of thing that would get your ass kicked.

"So, River," Jack said – before Ian could say anything else. "Ian is coming back to the house for the night. Why don't you come, too?"

That was a calculated move on Jack's part – and one he'd already planned out. He needed to get the three of them – Shawn, River and Ian – together and on the same page, because they all needed to talk out the events of the last few days – with each other. Short of calling them all into a psychiatrist's office and locking the door with them inside so they could talk it out with a professional, this was the next best thing.

"I'd have to get a pass, Colonel," River said, looking at Ian. "And right now… the Commandant isn't all that happy about giving them out… all things considered."

"I discussed it with him earlier," Jack told him. "He knows I'm planning on inviting you, and doesn't have a problem with it."

Ian frowned, wondering what the hell Jack had in mind. Now that he wasn't thinking about the upcoming need for a meeting with Shawn – that was pretty much out of his hands – he was thinking about what the Commandant had said about Jack coming to see him earlier. And now he was wondering what Jack had in mind. Had he asked for all three of them to be transferred to the SGC? Or just Ian? And if not, why was he inviting River over, when Ian knew the Californian didn't really know all that much about the SGC? Not as much as Shawn and Ian did, at least.

River grinned, looking at Ian as if to ask if he minded. Ian wasn't even paying attention to his roommate, though. He was watching Jack, who was ignoring him – as much as he could, anyways, to watch River.

"Well?"

"River shrugged.

"Sounds good, Colonel. As long as the Commandant doesn't mind, I accept." He'd like the chance to check on Shawn, anyways – and the room was kind of lonely when there wasn't anyone there but him.

"Good."

Jack looked at the case Ian had brought in, then sat down on Shawn's bed and rubbed Jaffer's side.

"Stuff that thing in the closet and just grab a change of clothes, Ian."

Scowling, Ian did what he was told, grabbing up a pair of jeans and yet another nondescript white t-shirt, while River did the same, grabbing up a change of clothes and stuffing them into a backpack. He took Ian's clothes from him and put them in his bag, as well, and gave Jack a look that told him they were ready.

"Let's go."

Jack headed for the door, followed eagerly by Jaffer, then River, and finally by Ian, who lagged back a bit, still trying to figure out if the Commandant could really force him to leave – and then force him to stay once he got back.

"Shotgun!"

Ian scowled, and climbed into the king cab with Jaffer, who left this seat immediately and moved to crowd Ian, silently asking for attention – which the New Yorker was more than willing to give him. Jack watched in the rearview mirror as Ian wrapped his arms around Jaffer, and buried his face in the thick winter coat, while Jaffer rumbled in happiness. Yup, this was what the kid needed, not a trip across country alone.

He started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot.