Ten minutes later he was in the locker room, following Sam's advice of a shower and still thinking over what she'd said to him. As he stepped under the water – which was hot but still cooler than his skin, and chilled him for just a moment before cooling him off – he was considering the whole concept of a team dynamic.

Teamwork wasn't something that came naturally to Ian. Which wasn't all that odd considering just how very little he liked people in the first place. Most people, anyways. There were a few exceptions, and had been even fewer when he was younger. Far more intelligent than those his own age, he'd avoided them, and way too arrogant to put up with any crap from people who were older, he tended to stay away from them as well. It worked well for him growing up.

In high school, he'd known he was going to need a few extra curricular activities on his transcript in order to get into a good college – lots of people had the grades he had, after all – so he'd joined several clubs. But they were clubs carefully chosen to keep him away from people as well as he could, anyways. The fencing club and the chess club were perfect, because they were activities you pretty much did on your own, without needing to consult anyone else. When he needed a sport, he chose football, but managed to play wide receiver, so he wouldn't have to interact too much with the others on the team – most of whom hadn't liked him personally, although they loved the fact that he could catch a ball when it was thrown to him, and that he would never back down from a fight on the field, even with the biggest of the linebackers from the other team.

So teamwork wasn't something he'd learned, and now he was realizing that if he was going to continue with SG-1 – or with the SGC once Sam returned to full time work – he was going to have to start making an effort to try and learn it now.

He sighed, and put his face into the spray, the hot water soaking his hair thoroughly and relaxing muscles that were still tense from being so angry. He wasn't so sure it was even worth the effort. When he looked at the future, he had trouble picturing what he was going to be. As he'd told Sam so long ago – although it hadn't really been all that long ago – he just didn't have a clue what he was going to do with his life. He wasn't even sure he wanted to be in the military, truth be told. Add in the fact that he had information in his brain that no one else on Earth could even imagine, and sometimes Ian wondered if there was any place for him.

He was tired. Physically tired – although he knew most of that was just from the events of the day, and from being so angry earlier. Mentally tired, because he was always holding in secrets that he didn't dare tell anyone. Especially now. God only knew what Hammond would do to him if he knew that Ian hadn't told anyone about being hijacked on his way through a Stargate and having the knowledge of the Ancients downloaded into his head. Not that it had been his idea or anything, of course, but he was pretty sure Hammond would have a shit fit if he knew about it. And worse, he was sure Jack and Sam wouldn't be happy about it, either.

He wasn't being a team player, he knew – although he'd only been trying to help. Like when he'd healed Sam and taken care of Jake, or when he'd fixed River and Shawn up earlier. He was supposed to be helping Jack, too. Hadn't that been the whole point of what Alexander had done to him? So far, though, Ian couldn't see where he'd been much of any help. He'd been more trouble than anything else, and it was fairly depressing. Because even when he tried to help, he wasn't.

Realizing that he wasn't going to be able to solve the world's problems in the shower that night – hell, he couldn't even solve his – Ian turned off the water and reached for a towel. He didn't have any more solutions than he'd started with, but he did feel better, and he wasn't angry anymore. He could see what Sam had been trying to tell him, and knew himself well enough to know that he wasn't going to be able to change in a day, but he'd give it a shot. Eventually.

For now, what he wanted was something to eat and some sleep. He changed into sweats and a t-shirt, and headed for the commissary, hoping to find something worth eating. What he found in the deserted room, however, were some dishes with cake and pie and jello, and the remnants of what had been several sandwiches. Obviously the Marines guarding the SGC had been and gone, and had wiped out what there had been for real food before they'd left.

Grumbling to himself, Ian grabbed all the desserts he could carry, knowing that it wasn't even going to make a dent on how hungry he was – and would probably get him slightly wired on some kind of sugar rush – and headed back to the infirmary before someone was sent to look for him.

OOOOOOOO

"Where have you been?" River asked him the minute he came through the door.

Ian scowled, looking at the Californian, who was holding a slice of pizza in his hand and sitting up on his bed with Shawn sitting on the edge of it. The two of them were both eating pizza, and playing chess, with the board set on a hospital table between them.

"None of your fucking business. Where did you get that?"

Shawn grinned, but it was River who spoke up.

"None of your fucking business," he said, in a perfect imitation of Ian's sarcastic drawl.

Ian smiled, despite himself, and flipped River off.

"Adams? Answer the question before I'm forced to kick your buddy's ass, will you?"

Shawn gestured to a table in the middle of the infirmary, where there were several pizza boxes. It was obvious that the staff of the infirmary had helped themselves, but there was also a lot left over.

"Doctor Fraiser ordered it before she left," Shawn told him. "Help yourself."

Ian scowled, not sure he wanted anything to do with Doctor Fraiser just then – even eating the pizza she'd ordered – but he realized he was being petty. Besides, he was hungry, and cake wasn't going to do the trick.

"Here."

He set the majority of the dishes of cake and pie on the table beside the chess set for his roommates to have, and headed for the pizza table.

"You want to play winner?" River asked him as he started piling slices on a paper plate.

"No. I'm going to get some sleep."

He knew once he'd stuffed himself he wasn't going to be awake long enough to wait for them to finish their chess game.

"We could play cards or something if you want to play, Ian," Shawn offered.

Ian shook his head.

"I'm tired, Shawn. Thanks, though."

He left them to their game and carried his pizza and cake to the far end of the room, pulled the curtain shut around his bed so no one would bother him and got into bed with a sigh. Pizza wasn't a substitute for being at home where he'd be able to sleep far more soundly, but it was nice of Fraiser – and thoughtful. Probably it had been Sam's idea, he decided.

He ate most of what he'd grabbed, ignored the cake and jello, and fell asleep even quicker than he'd expected.