23

The door to the private infirmary room slides open when Beckett waves his hand over the control panel. "Cool," O'Neill says with a smile that falters and disappears the instant Jax becomes visible across the small room.

She's sitting up in the infirmary bed facing the doorway, practically swimming in the maroon scrubs shirt that makes her look extremely pale. Her face is slack, eyes open, hands at her sides, a light weight, white blanket set over the lower half of her body. She's covered in wires. They trail from her head as well as her heart to the two separate machines that beep in a steady rhythm. The IV is in her left arm. It was in the right, but something happened to the vein and they had to move it.

Ronon crosses the room before anyone else. He goes to her side and kisses her forehead then whispers in her ear. "You have visitors…best behavior." He hears the beep of the heart monitor alter ever so slightly then it settles again into the regular beat.

A nurse finishes taking Jax's blood pressure and removes the cuff. She smiles encouragingly at Ronon then nods to Dr. Beckett as he comes inside and hands him a data pad. "No changes," she says. "But she knows he's here," she adds, motioning to Ronon with a small smile.

"She always does," Beckett says softly. "Thank you, Sally. You can take a break now."

She heads out, glancing at everyone with a polite smile. "General…nice to see you."

As she passes through the door, O'Neill turns and leans out into the corridor. "I'm not really here." He turns back inside. "I don't think she heard me."

"It's okay, sir," Dr. Weir smiles. "I'll handle it."

Ronon steps aside, giving O'Neill access to Jax. He does the same as Ronon, kissing her forehead before lifting her hand. Her hands are no longer bandaged since the stitches have already been removed, but the wounds are still healing: dark pink and surrounded by bruises. "What happened?"

"Broke a window with the right one," Ronon says. "Sliced open the left palm pretty bad."

O'Neill turns back to Jax. "For crying out loud, that was dumb." There's a single beep out of rhythm on the other monitor…the one Beckett says watches brain activity.

"What was that?" Ronon asks.

Beckett checks the panel then huffs and flashes his dimples at the General. "I think you made her mad, sir."

O'Neill slides his jaw to the side. "Good. She made me mad too."

"Carson, why don't we give them some time alone," Dr. Weir says quietly.

Beckett agrees and heads out with the others. O'Neill smoothes a hand over the young woman's dark hair, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "Sheppard, put the boxes on the end of the bed."

The Colonel comes back inside and sets them down as ordered. "Good luck, sir."

The moment Sheppard speaks, the heart monitor beeps faster for several seconds then settles again. O'Neill tears his eyes away from Jax and looks at Sheppard for a long moment. "Thanks." Sheppard nods and heads out with Dr. Weir. Ronon's not far behind.

"You don't have to go," O'Neill tells him.

Ronon turns back to the older man. "I'll be around."

When Ronon returns some time later, O'Neill is sitting on the edge of the bed, facing Jax. One of the boxes is open on the nearby tray table. He's showing her something, but she's not reacting. Ronon has a cup of black coffee and hands it to the man. "Dr. Weir asked me to bring this." He takes it gratefully, sliding from the bed and sitting in the chair that usually belongs to Ronon. "What are those?" Ronon points to the stack on the bed.

"Pictures of Lily and the baby."

Ronon's brows raise, suddenly worried. "The baby came early?"

O'Neill shakes his head, handing the pictures to Ronon. "No. They're taken with sound…I think. Carter's always better at explaining the stuff."

Ronon looks over the pictures. He's never seen anything like them before. His world didn't have this type of technology to steal a moment in time. Finally seeing an image of Lily makes his heart break for Jax. Once again, she had to leave someone special behind. The woman's beautiful face and eyes hold so much love for whoever she is looking at…probably Charlie. But she's waving, which means she must have known Jax would be seeing the picture as well. As he slips the first few aside, he sees something he never dreamed possible. "This is…?"

O'Neill grins. "That's little Angela. Still inside mommy."

Ronon's breath catches and he feels a lump in his throat as he looks over the image. It is clearly a baby sucking her thumb. Her eyes are closed tight, but he can see she has the same defiant edge as Jax. "I believe she will be a terror."

"More than likely." O'Neill smiles broadly. "Already kicking up a storm."

"Another dancer," Ronon says softly.

"Maybe," O'Neill nods.

Ronon shuffles through more of the pictures until he comes across a young man with red hair that shares the same dark eyes as Jax, though missing the icy shield. "Charlie." He stares at the man with the easy smile and open heart.

"Yeah," O'Neill sighs.

Ronon sets the pictures aside. "I do not understand how they could have never met as children and yet…"

"Been so close?" Ronon nods. O'Neill shrugs. "Just happens with some people, I suppose. I credit him with being open enough to accept her. He never got a chance to know his father, that was his mother's choice, from what I understand. But when he and Angie met, he didn't have an ounce of resentment for her."

"She did save his life."

He nods. "That she did. But I think there's more to it. Seeing them together was a great thing. It's as if they always knew they were missing someone important in their lives." He sips his coffee. "Charlie once admitted that he actually saw her skate. And that's quite an admission coming from a military man." Ronon nods, remembering how Sheppard threaten harm if his secret was revealed. "Afterward, he sought out any prelim or competition to see her again. He was drawn to her-"

"Grace."

O'Neill's eyes widen. "Ah…you too, I see."

Ronon nods, crossing his arms as he studies the older man. "What happened to him?"

"It's classified."

"I'm not in the Earth military."

"No," O'Neill gets up from the chair. "But I am." He groans softly. "I can't even tell her."

"It wasn't because of her, was it?"

"Because…? Oh, hell no. Charlie was doing his job. He saved a lot of lives that day. He's a hero." O'Neill stares at Ronon as he drinks the coffee. "She still goes on about the 'curse' then, I take it?"

Ronon sets the pictures aside. "She believes it. But sometimes…she seems to forget."

O'Neill pats Ronon's shoulder. "I've noticed a difference in her letters. She's happy here. I have a feeling that has something to do with you."

"We are…close."

"I know." He grins. "Not that anything more would be hazardous to your health…from my perspective, but…"

"We don't see each other that way."

He points to his eyes. "These do work. Besides, it's pretty obvious she's got the hots for Sheppard." O'Neill raises his chin and stares hard at Ronon. "He ever gets outta line with her…it's up to you to make it right. Since I won't be here to…maim him, should the need arise."

Ronon smirks. "He cares for her too, I believe."

"Sure he does. What's not to like?" O'Neill turns back to Jax. "Except this crap here, Angie. What the hell are you doing? I didn't come all this way to see you only to have you not see me! It's a bit annoying, you know." He snaps his fingers in front of her face, but doesn't get a reaction. However, there is another beep on the brain monitor, similar to before. O'Neill sighs, sitting in front of her again. "At least I know you're still in there." He caresses her cheek. "You keep fighting, sweetie. You're stronger than this."

"Why do you call her Angie and not Jax?"

He doesn't look at Ronon as he speaks. "Jax isn't real. Haven't you figured that out yet?" He slides his eyes toward Ronon. "It's just a name…an actor, a wall built for protection. Angela," he lifts her battered hand to his lips, "is my girl."

Ronon nods, understanding. Though he still thinks of her as Jax, and probably always will, he has started to call her Angie in private, because it makes her smile. "What's in the other box?"

O'Neill looks at it but makes no attempt to open it. "The last resort." He catches Ronon's gaze and there's fear in his eyes. "If it doesn't work…" he trails off, down casting his gaze to the box again.

"She'll never be alone," Ronon says, raising his chin. "Jack."

The General watches him for several moments then nods in understanding. "Good man."

Ronon sighs. "We should try."

O'Neill sets her hand in her lap and slides off the bed. He nods once and reaches for the box. "Yeah." He opens the lid and pulls out what looks like a white boot with something made of metal on the bottom. He glances at Ronon, most likely seeing his confusion. "It's an ice skate." To show what he means, he pulls off a blue strip from the bottom, exposing a metal blade. He holds up the blue strip. "Blade guard." Then hands the 'skate' to Ronon.

The boot is soft and pliable and the blade thick and sharp, altogether surprisingly heavy for something to be worn on the feet. There are strings woven through holes up the front of the boot, they are also white. Ronon hands it back to O'Neill and the General slides the 'guard' back into place before sitting on the edge of the bed again.

Ronon joins him on the other side of the bed and they both stare at Jax, hoping to see Angie emerge. O'Neill lays the skate against her then picks up one hand and folds it around the boot. "Present time, sweetie." Her fingers touch the soft material, but not of their own accord, only if O'Neill moves them for her.

Ronon takes her left hand and positions it as well. Still there's no reaction. He leans in and cups her face in his hands, turning her head towards him. "Angela." Her eyes remain blank. Ronon has one idea and it's the only thing that comes to him. "Ryan and Charlie want to see you dance again."

He waits. She breathes. But there's no light suddenly coming into her eyes. No spark of awareness. Not even a beep from the machines. Ronon sighs, releasing her, though her head does not return to its earlier position.

"I want to see you dance!" O'Neill says firmly. Still nothing. The General's head drops in defeat. "Damn." He rubs his hands over his face and slides off the bed. He heads for the door and Ronon follows.

"Maybe it will take some time," Ronon says. "We can't give up-"

"Daddy?" It's a soft whisper but loud enough for them to hear and the two men spin around and rush back to the bed. O'Neill sits in front of her again and Ronon's on the other side. She's facing forward though Ronon didn't move her back to that position. And there are tears in her eyes.

O'Neill cups her face as Ronon did a moment ago and turns her to look at him. The monitors start beeping rapidly. "C'mon, sweetie. Come back." The tears drip and slide down into O'Neill's hands. He wipes them aside with his thumbs. "I know you're in there. Angie!"

She blinks, once, twice, more tears dropping. Something so simple, so subtle as to usually go unnoticed, but the motion makes Ronon's heart beat faster.

Her eyes focus on O'Neill. Her brows furrow and she shakes her head a little. "Jack? What are you-" O'Neill grabs her shoulders and pulls her into a tight hug, "-doing here?" She looks genuinely confused.

"Yes!" He says loudly. O'Neill chuckles as he pulls back and cups her cheeks again. He shrugs and makes a funny face. "I was in the neighborhood." He kisses her forehead. "It's good to see ya, kid." Then he hugs her again.

"Okay," she whispers. "Air becoming an issue."

O'Neill pulls back again, grinning. "Sorry."

She pats his chest and smiles. "Still using the same cologne, I smell."

He rocks his head. "Why mess with perfection."

"I thought…" her eyes drop. "I could have sworn I heard my dad's voice."

O'Neill pats her hand. "Hope you're not disappointed."

"No." She smiles at him with so much love, Ronon's a little jealous. He's never seen that look from Jax before, not for anyone. After that hits him, he suddenly realizes why…this isn't Jax. This is Angela. The real Angela. No shield. No defenses. All walls down.

She looks around, seeing the medical equipment, her IV and the wires. Her confused gaze bounces between the two men. "Umm. Ronon?" Her brows wrinkle even more, she looks embarrassed. "What'd I do this time?"

Ronon sits on the edge opposite O'Neill. "You don't remember?"

Her gaze holds his. "No." She swallows hard and takes a deep breath, looking at the General. "Must've been a doozy to get you all riled up though, Jack." She glances around again. "We are still on Atlantis right?" Ronon nods. She looks at O'Neill again. "Dr. Jackson's gonna be pissed. Or is he here too?"

O'Neill grins. "He's not on the need-to-know list." He points a finger at her. "So he never will." She gives a half grin and O'Neill immediately pulls her in so he can kiss her forehead again. "It's so good to see you."

She cups his cheek with her left hand. "You too." Her smile falters though and she pulls her hand back, looking at the scar on the palm. Then she lifts her right hand and sees more healing wounds. "W…why…" and she suddenly stops, her mouth gaping, eyes losing focus. She sucks in another breath, deep and wracked with pain. Her body shudders violently.

O'Neill hugs her close again. "It's okay, Angie. I'm here."

"Ohgod Jack…" she sobs, her body shaking uncontrollably. She wraps her arms around the General with desperation and buries her face against him. "He's gone, isn't he!"

"Yes," O'Neill sniffs and Ronon can tell without looking that the man is in tears as well.

Ronon slips away from the bed and leaves as they huddle together. They don't even realize he's gone, or if they do, it doesn't matter. Nothing else matters at this moment. Jax…Angela is back and she needs her father. Ronon will be there for her later…when she needs him.

As he walks down the corridor, ready to give the news to the others, Ronon's heartbeat races and he smiles for the first time in weeks.

She's back.