Major Samantha Carter followed a Tok'ra soldier through the seemingly endless tunnels in the subterranean base. Her mind was numb and her body hurt, but compared to many others she was doing well. At least on the outside. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the faces of those left behind - her brother, her niece and nephew, and Cassie. Her heart bled for Janet, and for the young girl she almost considered her own, but she wouldn't let anyone under her command see her grief, and at the moment that included everyone who had come with them to Vorash.

There would be time to mourn eventually, and Sam thought if she could just keep herself busy enough, then maybe she wouldn't have to think about it at all, ever. She couldn't help but feel some measure of relief that her team got out. It was selfish she realized, but maybe later she could forgive herself. Forgive herself for surviving.

She spared a minute to think about the sacrifice General Hammond had made for them all. Her teammates and two other SG units had gathered as many personnel and supplies as was possible in the short amount of time they had before gating to the doomed Alpha site. The SGC had already been sealed off from the rest of Cheyenne Mountain to protect the stargate from the Replicators but NORAD had been one of places first hit. As if they somehow knew the importance of what lay beneath.

Sam thought the General meant to come with them, and obviously Colonel O'Neill had as well. At the last possible minute, the General had insisted he be the one to stay behind and initiate the self-destruct sequence. When the Colonel refused to leave him behind, General Hammond had drawn an HK and ordered them to leave at gunpoint.

Their last trip through Earth's stargate had landed them straight into a fire fight. Within minutes of arriving they had lost another six people, and a dozen more had been seriously injured. They were currently being treated by Dr. Fraiser and the Tok'ra healers, and she was being escorted to the main healing chamber to check on the wounded.

Before she could ask, an unfamiliar Tok'ra approached her and Major Davis, and led them to the side of the room. As the Tok'ra's voice reverberated, she knew the symbiote was currently in control. "Your wounded have been attended to, Major Carter. All but two have been released to temporary quarters."

"Thank you," Sam said as she quickly scanned the room. Two of the massive stone slabs which passed for beds were occupied. Lieutenant Astor sat on one of the rocks; her legs dangling over the edge. Tears were falling down over her cheek, but there was little evidence of the staff blast which had caught her shoulder only an hour ago. Another Tok'ra was using a healing device on her back. Physically she would be fine, Sam gauged as she looked over to the other bed.

She saw Janet standing over Lieutenant Simmons. The young control officer had taken two staff blasts to the chest seconds after she arrived through the stargate at the Alpha site. He had been trying to warn her about the attack, and in the process made himself a target. Sam was surprised when Teal'c announced that somehow, Simmons was still alive and had scooped him up while she quickly dialed them out. But she hadn't been fast enough.

"How is he?" she whispered.

One grim look from Janet told her everything she needed to know.

"What about a symbiote?" she asked, though she had already guessed the answer.

"His injuries are far too severe," the Tok'ra explained.

"You can cure cancer, but you can't save him?"

"Sam," Janet said quietly. "He's lost too much blood."

Sam closed her eyes, trying for a moment to shut everything out. Just like a child, she thought. Hot, angry tears began to well up. She tried to blink them away, but a few snuck out unchecked and she wiped them quickly with her sleeve. A hand suddenly squeezed her shoulder and she couldn't decide between pulling away or relaxing into the light touch, so she did neither. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to let someone, anyone, take her responsibilities away just for a while. She'd had quite enough for one day.

But she wouldn't let go. She couldn't let go. Not until everyone left was safe, the Colonel returned, and Graham Simmons was no longer in pain.

"I'd like to stay with him for awhile," she said as she opening her eyes to find Major Davis next to her, his hand still on her shoulder. Not surprised, she straightened up as he let go.

"I'll go and see if Colonel O'Neill is back," he said turning to leave.

"Wait," she called him back. "Can you help me get him off this damned rock?"

With a nod, he helped her carry the young lieutenant over to the far side of the room. She slid down the smooth crystal wall to the floor and Davis lowered him down into her arms. There was blood everywhere, but she tried not to let it bother her. Carefully, she nestled his head and shoulders in her lap, trying to make him as comfortable as possible under the circumstances.

Simmons began to writhe a bit, and she pulled him tighter into her arms as she whispered in his ear, unaware if he could still hear her or not. "It's okay," she shushed him. "You'll be okay. I'm here Graham... I'm here."

Instead of leaving, Davis settled himself down beside them, apparently unwilling to leave her alone with Simmons. She wasn't sure if she wanted to be alone with the dying lieutenant either. They sat quietly for several minutes, as she felt the rise and fall of his chest starting to break cadence.

"His birthday is next week," she blurted out suddenly, needing to hear something other than Graham's ragged breathing. "I didn't know until somebody sent the card around for me to sign. He'll be twenty-five."

"He has an exemplary record," Davis offered.

"You've read his record?"

He looked uncomfortable as he replied, "It's part of my job."

"Did it tell you that today was his first trip through the stargate? Not to mention his last." She tried to shake off her fear, but with the warmth from the blood that had begun to pool in her lap, it only increased. She looked over at the major, and felt a need to keep talking. "Daniel told me that Graham had a crush on me, last year."

"One of many at the SGC, I'm sure." He said, giving her a half-hearted smile.

"I was so oblivious," she continued, ignoring his comment. "So totally absorbed in my work, that I never even noticed."

"It's not your fault, Sam."

"I know," she replied and looked down at Graham, brushing her chin over his damp, sticky hair. She didn't want to talk about it. Intellectually, she knew he was right, but hearing the words only made her stomach clench. Her brain was busy showing her Simmons getting shot over and over like a recording stuck on a continuous, sickening loop. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to force it to stop. "But it sure feels like it."

They held watch in silence for several minutes. Graham was getting heavy in her lap. Her buttocks and legs were starting to go numb along with the rest of her, but she didn't care. She wasn't going to leave him alone to die. Next to her she felt Davis shift around a bit, probably trying to restore his own circulation.

She heard a gurgling sound and looked down at Graham's mouth. Tiny, foaming bubbles of blood spilled down over his chin. As he desperately tried to breathe, she started to panic, and her eyes darted around looking for help. Again, she felt Paul's hand on her shoulder, and turned to face him. He shook his head gently and whispered, "Let him go, Sam."

Somehow she resisted the urge to call Janet.

Slowly, she rocked Simmons in her protective embrace. She softly stroked his cheek, as he sputtered and struggled for the longest seconds of her life. It was so unfair, she thought, he didn't deserve this. He had been trying to protect her. "I'm sorry Graham," she apologized as he died in her arms. "I am so sorry..."

She shut her eyes again and tried not to think about anything. Not about Earth, not about duty, not about the dead man in her arms. She rested her head on the shoulder beside her and just sat.