When All Else Fails

Chapter Twenty Six

Disclaimer: I'm still without claim.

Authors Note: Contrary to popular belief, I am not done with this story yet! I've still got a lot of loose ends to tie up, and even more to loosen! You'll have to stick with me for a bit longer, sorry :)

Ok... so engaged doesn't exactly mean things are set in stone. And, I have to admit, I really like the idea of Matt (Fehr) and Cassie as a couple, so maybe I'll play around with it a bit. Just to see how I feel about it further.

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Fehr went directly to the infirmary, but this time he managed to stay awake while lying in bed. It was only a few minutes before Samantha Carter, Daniel Jackson, and Michael Craig were ushered into the room by Doctor Brightman, who was wearing a scowl. No doubt a bit perturbed that it was nearing time for her to go home, and because of the trio she would be stuck at the base well after hours. She pointed towards on bed and ordered Carter to it, along with a gaggle of medics to get her ready for her stitches, then gestured towards another bed and told Daniel to sit on it. Doctor Carmichael took over for her and ordered him out of his shoe, so that the good doctor could check his injured ankle. Then, Brightman herself too Craig to the bed directly beside Fehr's, and sat him down gently.

"How are you feeling, Doctor?" she questioned, taking out her pin light and flashing it in his eyes. Satisfied with the results she began to test his reflexes.

"I'm fine," he assured her. "I don't know why everybody is putting up such a fuss..."

From the look on Brightman's face, she was feeling a bit weary about telling the man why everybody was worried about him. Which, Fehr understood because Bridges had informed him of the linguists untimely demise. It was obvious to Fehr that there had been a sarcophagus on the planet (with a bunch of Goa'uld's there, as well, he wasn't surprised) and Craig had been revived. But, did he really need to know that piece of trivia?

Apparently, Brightman thought not. At least for the time being. "You were tortured, Doctor Craig. I have to make sure there's no extensive trauma."

"But, I'm fine," the man argued. And he was. Thanks to the sarcophagus.

"You appear fine," the doctor told him. "The sarcophagus healed your injuries outwardly. I have to make sure that it did it's job internally."

He sighed as her cold stethoscope came in contact with his chest, which was no bare thanks to the doctor.

"Everything feels normal," the man stated, trying to convince her to let him go. He was in desperate need of a shower.

The doctor only nodded. Of course it felt normal. If he had just been injured then she wouldn't be putting up so much of a fuss. But, he hadn't just been injured. He had died. Quite tragically, at that.

"I know that you are not military personnel, doctor," Brightman said, "but you still have to follow my orders. And, I am ordering you to cooperate."

Fehr snorted, she did that a lot. The sound caused a glare from the doctor, but it was only temporary, because she was busy with her patient. The look was a nasty one, and Fehr made a mental note to stop pushing his luck. At the rate he was going, he would be in the infirmary for another week.

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Sam had been sitting on the infirmary bed for nearly ten minutes before he walked in the room, eyes darting around, looking for her. A smile spread across her face, which was most likely a byproduct of the drugs she had recently been given, and his gaze fell upon her. He quickly made his way to her side, taking her hand into his and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"What did they say about your shoulder?"

She looked over at the wound, which was heavily bandaged for the moment, awaiting it's stitches. "I'm going to need a lot of stitching up, but the bullet was trough and through, and there's no fragments. Other than wearing a sling for a few weeks and being ordered light duty for the duration, I'll be fine."

Which was a miracle, in and of itself. Sam had already been informed that if the bullet had been even a centimeter to the left, or shot from a further distance, her shoulder blade could have been shattered. She was lucky that Thoth had been such a horrible shot, if he had been any better she might never have been able to go through the Stargate again.

"That's good," he told her. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," she told him. Which, was the truth... for the most part. Unlike most of the time when she said she was fine. "They've given me painkillers."

Jack understood immediately. He had been doped up by the doctors on staff at the SGC more times than he could count, and he had enjoyed it, for the most part, each and every time. "Ah," he told her with a grin. "I see."

She grinned despite herself, and intertwined her fingers with his. "How do you feel?"

Him? There was nothing to worry about with him. "I'm good," he assured her. "My knees are fairly mad at me, but they'll get over it. They always do."

"Oh," she replied. "Ok."

He noticed the difference in her speech, and decided that the drugs were beginning to take full effect. "I'll let you get some sleep."

Sam had wanted to argue with him about that, but she was tired, and he was offering. "Will you be close?"

Jack nodded, there was no way he'd leave. "I'm going to talk to Danny."

There wasn't much she could do but nod and close her eyes. He waited until she fell asleep to pull his hand out of hers gently, then walked over to the bed where Daniel was lying down. Unlike Sam, he hadn't been given an IV of medication, only pills. Also, unlike Sam, he didn't have a serious injury... only a twisted ankle. Still, Dr. Carmichael had ordered he stay in bed all night, just in case.

"Hey, Danny boy." Jack greeted, slapping him on the shoulder gently. "How you doin'?"

"Just peachy," the archeologist muttered. He did not want to be in bed, he wanted to be in his office. Working on the rubbings he had brought back from P2D-331 nearly two months prior. Then, he saw a way out of his misery. "Hey... Jack," he asked, "do you mind getting me something from my office?"

The General gave him an incredulous look, "Is it in plain view?"

Daniel thought it over, then frowned. "Well... no."

"Then, yes. I do."

The man scowled, then thought of something else. "Can you order Doctor Carmichael to let me out of bed?"

Jack shook his head. Nope, he couldn't do that. Even if he was the leader of the base, that was strictly military wise. While Doctor Carmichael wasn't the CMO of the base (that spot was reserved for Brightman), he was her 2IC, and had almost full authority. Which meant that in cases involving a employees well being he had the authority. "Sorry, Danny... can't do it."

Scowling menacingly he sat back against the pillows, "What if I tell you where they are?"

Jack shook his head, "I promised Sam I would stay close."

At that moment, Doctor Brightman walked by, and Jack took the opportunity to call out to her. "Doctor," he greeted, walking over to the small woman. "How is he?"

Jack didn't have to specify who he was talking about, Brightman knew immediately. "Doctor Craig is in perfect health, General. I haven't told him what the full extent of his injuries were before he was placed in the sarcophagus, however. I figured that if you wanted him to know, you would be the one to tell him."

Jack frowned, yeah, he had been thinking about that. Still hadn't made his mind up, though. "That's fine, doctor. Are you on your way to see Colonel Carter?"

She nodded, "I will be stitching her up, yes."

"She's fallen asleep," he informed her. "How bad is her shoulder, really?"

"Not that bad," the doctor assured him. "She will require at least three weeks recovery, just to be on the safe side. But, after that she can return to full duty. If you keep me any longer, however, things could possibly be worse."

He got the hint and let her go to her work, turning back to Daniel. Jack wasn't fond of getting stitches (and, he had gone through the procedure plenty of times), so the last thing he wanted to do was watch Sam get them.

"So..." he asked Daniel, pulling up a chair. There were plenty of questions he was ready to ask about the mission, but the debriefing wouldn't be until the next morning, due to the late hour.

Daniel, on the other hand, decided that he was going to pick the subject of their conversation. He was the one condemned to a hospital bed, anyway. "So," he asked, "when are you going to ask Sam to marry you?"

Jack coughed at bit at the question, "Do what?"

"It's a simple question, Jack." Daniel replied, a smug grin on his face. It's not everyday you shock Jack O'Neill. "You love her, she loves you... where's the confusing part?"

"There's nothing confusing about it, Daniel. It's just... we haven't really been seeing each other all that long. I don't want to rush her." Which was the truth. It had only been a few weeks since her descending, after all. Then, top it all off with the mission to 785. "We haven't even..." he trailed off, hoping his friend would pick up what he wasn't saying.

Daniel's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really? After all that time...?"

Jack understood his friends astonishment, he was sure that most people on the base thought the same thing he had. Jack had been in love with Sam for a long time, and she had been in love with him for probably longer, but their relationship had been moving slowly. He wasn't complaining about it, however. He liked the just dating stage they were in, in some ways in was like a high school romance. Holding hands, sharing quick, chaste kisses every five minutes, all those sorts of things.

"You really think I should ask her?" Jack asked, looking over at his friend.

"I think she would say yes, if you did." his friend replied. "So, why not?"

Jack mused over the notion for a moment. "I don't know... it's kind of soon, don't you think?"

"Well," Daniel added, "what you said was true. It has only been a couple of weeks..." He shrugged, "But, are you really counting from when she returned from ascension? You two were in love long before then, you know?"

Of course he knew. "Yeah..." Jack sighed, why did Daniel always have to make things so complicated?

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Luckily for Jack, Sam had been passed out during his and Daniel's entire conversation, so she heard none of it. Had she been awake she probably would have, since her bed was directly next to his. But, after a long, awkward silence between Jack and Daniel, the General told his friend to get some rest and ventured over to Lieutenant Fehr's bed, bypassing Doctor Craig's, who was sleeping already.

Fehr was awake, however, and Jack wasn't surprised.

"Sir," he greeted, motioning towards a chair Jack could sit in.

The General opted to stand instead, but shook his head politely. "I'm fine, thanks."

"Can I help you, sir?" the Lieutenant asked. It wasn't everyday your CO visited you in the infirmary, anyway.

"Nah," he replied. "I just came to thank you."

Fehr was confused. "Thank me?"

"You saved a lot of people's lives, Lieutenant. Even though you were injured, and risking your own by doing so. Because of you, SG-1, SG-2, SG-4, and SG-6 are still here. That deserves a thank you, don't you think so?"

Matt didn't think so, he was just doing his job anyway. "Anybody would have done the same, sir."

Jack shook his head, "A lot of people would have given up. Or waited until they were no longer in immediate danger. Not you, you walked through open territory, even though you knew you could have been found, and killed. That's something special."

Lieutenant Fehr shook his head, "I don't understand, sir."

"That's alright," Jack assured him. "You don't have to understand it. I'm giving you my personal thanks, anyway. And, outside of that, the president has saw fit to raise your rank, because of your bravery."

"Excuse me?" Fehr asked. And he thought he had been confused before...

"Just what I said, Captain Fehr."

"Captain?"

"We'll have an official ceremony, of course, and the paperwork hasn't gone through, yet. But, it won't be long before you're ranking is up to Captain officially. And, moreover, if Sanchez does return then you will take over as his second in command, if not, then you will be receiving a new CO, but you will remain as 2IC."

Fehr was thrown, to say the least. Captain? Second in Command? All this for simply doing his duties as a Marine?

"I don't know what to say, sir..." which was the truth. He was speechless.

"You don't have to say anything, Captain. Accepting would be enough."

"Of course, I accept."

"Good," Jack patted his shoulder. "You get some sleep, now, Captain."

"Yes, sir." Fehr replied immediately, even though he wasn't the slightest bit tired.

Like he was going to argue with the man after he had just informed h im of his new rank and position.

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A/N: See! There is still so much more to be covered with this story. It's not hardly done yet.