While Shawn and River had Janet confused, Ian Brooks had her downright baffled. The room he'd been put into was a quiet one off in the corner. Not an ICU unit, because he wasn't critical. For that matter, the nurse who had taken her to the room confided, they hadn't been able to find anything wrong with him. They just couldn't get him to wake up.

Janet walked into his room, and frowned when she saw him. He hadn't been hooked up to any IV, but they had connected him to several monitors, and when Janet picked up the medical chart she saw that like River, they'd given Ian a CT scan, but she saw that it looked normal – at least normal for Ian, who had always had stepped up brain activities compared to most people. Janet always assumed it was from his perfect memory always processing things in his head (and she was right) so that wasn't abnormal for him.

He'd been put on his back, of course, but Ian was a belly sleeper when he was in his most comfortable, and the New Yorker had rolled over, tangling himself in the monitor wires and burying his head in his arms, which had almost caused him to throttle himself with the cardio monitor wires.

Janet detached the wires and straightened them out, and then looked down at the medical chart again. There wasn't anything wrong with him. He hadn't been injured. He wasn't bleeding, and as far as Shawn had told her they hadn't been involved in a wreck of any sort – they'd stopped on their own, unlike those in the suburban. There was no reason for Ian to be unconscious, but he was.

Actually, to her experienced eye – and she'd had plenty of chances to observe him in a medical setting – he looked like he was sleeping.

"Ian?"

She reached her hand out and brushed it against his cheek, feeling for fever – even though the monitor was showing his temperature was normal. She didn't rely simply on machines, after all.

She frowned, and sat down on the edge of his bed. Even though it wasn't all that large, Ian wasn't a big kid by any means. Her palm ran gently along his cheek and brushed his short black hair back just a little, feeling for bumps in his skull that might be the cause of the slumber.

Ian moved his head slightly in response to her touch, moving away just a little, and Janet smiled. She knew he didn't like to be touched like that – he called it face fondling, and Cassie had told her that he really didn't even like her to do it all that much, which was saying something. It was a relief to see him move, though, because that told her he wasn't unconscious.

"Ian?"

She shook his shoulder, gently.

"Hmm?"

Where had she last seen him acting this way? Janet's smile faded to a frown, and she realized he was acting just like he had after his return with Sam – the day Jacob had been born. Ian had been wiped out, then, too – although then he'd had some reason for it. It wasn't exactly a pattern, though, because when he'd been shot he hadn't acted this way, and there were other times he'd been injured, and he hadn't been so deeply asleep like he was just then. It was nuts, and until she could get him talking to her; she wasn't going to be able to figure out what might have caused it.

"Wake up."

"Go away…"

She scowled.

"Ian..."

He buried his head under the pillow, blocking her out, and Janet sighed, frustrated. Then she stood up and went to the door. There were ways to wake sleepy people up, and she wanted to talk to the doctors in charge.

OOOOOOOO

"I didn't shoot your son!"

Jack didn't even bat an eye.

"I didn't say you did." He actually knew that Morgan hadn't done it – according to River, anyways. "But you know who did. And I want to know, too."

"I don't know anything."

"So you keep saying."

Jack pulled the needle out of the vial, and dropped the vial back into the pouch, pushing slightly on the plunger and causing a slight stream of the clear liquid to shoot out the top. Morgan was watching just as intently. Moreso even.

"I wasn't doing anything."

"I believe you."

Jack turned to the IV bag that was hanging above Morgan's bed, the other end connected to his arm. With speed that Morgan never would have believed if he hadn't seen it, Jack set the syringe down and grabbed his arm, slapping the restraints on Morgan's right arm before he could do so much as flinch. Since the left arm was in a heavy brace – they were waiting on swelling to go down before setting it and there was no way Morgan was going to be moving it any time soon – the man was now effectively immobilized. And terrified.

"Stop!"

Out in the hall a nurse hesitated as she was walking past the door, casting a look that direction. Standing beside the door, however, was a hulking and menacing figure, and when the nurse hesitated, Teal'c moved just a fraction towards the door, silently telling her that he wouldn't allow her past him. He didn't try to frighten her or anything, but Teal'c didn't need to try to frighten people. He did it naturally, he knew.

"They are having a discussion," Teal'c told the nurse in his deep voice. "Do not concern yourself."

She frowned, but wasn't about to challenge Teal'c. Instead, she headed for the nurses' station. There were other people she could tell, and they could see what was going on.

OOOOOOO

"It's not going to hurt you," Jack promised, picking up the syringe once more. "Much."

Morgan felt like he was going to throw up suddenly, and his bravery fled completely.

"It was Bennett! But it was an accident!"

Jack shook his head, almost sadly. "I don't believe you." He took hold of the IV bag with the hand that didn't have the syringe.

"It's true! I swear! We didn't want anything to do with your kid! He just got in the way!"

"What were you doing with River?"

Morgan hesitated.

Jack reached for the IV bag once more.

"Nothing! We were just talking."

"About…?"

"About stuff."

"That's it." Jack had lost all semblances of patience, and he set the needle against the small drip section of the IV bag. "We'll do it the hard way."

"No! I was just talking to him about… about…" he hesitated, wondering what O'Neill knew, and how he knew it.

Jack looked at him, expectantly.

"About?"

Morgan sighed, helpless. Leaf would have to figure it out, because there was no way he could risk whatever truth serum or whatever it was. If he had the chance, he could at least skirt the truth. If he were on medication, he'd spill everything. They couldn't risk that.

"About joining our… organization…"