The gate activated, blaring alarms around the facility, even though the arrival was expected. A security force whose job was to keep out unfriendlies instantly took position in the gate room, their weapons ready.

"It's SG-6, sir," the sergeant at the dialing computer told Hammond.

"Open the iris." The general keyed a mike. "Stand down."

The security team did just that, even though they stayed in the room, watching as the iris opened and a moment later SG-6, Ian Brooks, and surprisingly Jaffer emerged from the event horizon. The gate shut down immediately, and only then did the security team really relax.

"Ian, report to Doctor Fraiser in the infirmary," Hammond ordered through the same mike.

He saw the cadet look up at him, and saw him nod, and then the boy vanished as he left the room at a run.

OOOOOOOOO

She was losing him. In all reality, she'd been losing him since he'd been carried through the gate. The Sergeant's injuries were devastating – as bad as any Janet had ever seen – and normally, she'd be fighting to save him without any hope as his life's blood pooled on the operating room floor and his heart faltered under her hands. She'd still fight, because that's what doctors did. They didn't give up just because the wounds were life-threatening and impossible, because there was always a hope for a miracle – even when she knew there was no chance of getting one.

Now, however, she did have that chance at a miracle. In the form of one angry young man with far more power at his command than anyone would ever believe – unless they'd seen it in action for themselves. Janet knew about it, and knew that if he arrived in time – before the Sergeant gave in to the wounds that were already killing him – she'd have a chance to bring a young man that should have been dead an hour ago out of surgery with every chance of living to be an old man.

"Where is he…?" she muttered to herself, her fingers delicately manipulating a clamp on a torn artery, trying to keep the blood flowing where she wanted it to go instead of onto the floor while her surgical staff furiously worked to make sure that the blood and plasma supply running from the IVs into the veins in the Sergeant's legs never slowed.

"Doctor…"

She glanced up at a commotion at the entrance, and was relieved to see Ian coming through the door, still dressed in his full gear – although one of the medics had taken his P90 from him when he'd entered the infirmary.

"Ian!"

Without her hands free, Janet could only wave him over with a toss of her head, but it was more than enough. She could see in his expression that he already knew what she needed.

He hurried over, slipped on a puddle of blood and crashed to the floor with a curse that resounded through the room – even over the noise of the machinery keeping tabs on Dobbs – and then staggered to his feet, his hand already reaching for the Sergeant.

"Do what you can," Fraiser told him. "Try to take care of the injured arteries, though… if we can keep-"

"I got it," Ian interrupted, absently. He was already turning his attention on the heartbeat under his hand, ignoring the blood that was smearing his palm and the fact that he was the only one in the room not dressed in white scrubs or wearing gloves and a mask.

The injuries were severe – especially as Fraiser had already noted, the mangled arteries that were responsible for carrying blood from the heart to the lungs and beyond. He sank his awareness into what he was doing, and started working. The guy was a mess, but Ian had seen worse, really. Had taken care of worse. He felt a surge of satisfaction when the first artery reattached itself to the rest of the system, and the blood started flowing through it as if nothing had happened there. The second artery came into alignment just as smoothly, and by the time he finished the third and final one, Ian was already looking for other injuries.

A badly broken rib was threatening to puncture a lung. Ian eased it back a little and put the shard back where it belonged. The rib was still cracked, but not jagged, now, and no worse than the ones that Fraiser had been forced to deal with. While he was at it, he put the others in place as well, fully aware just how much it hurt to have broken ribs. It wasn't something he'd wish on anyone.

"What's he doing?" one of the nurses asked in an awed whisper. The entire medical team was standing at the table, frozen with shock as they literally watched the injured man's body heal itself. And all of them knew it had something to do with Ian.

"Quiet," Janet ordered, her eyes on the healing wound. She'd already released her clamps, watching with relief and her own amazement (even though she'd seen it before) as blood started pumping easily through what had only minutes ago been a shredded mess.

The other injuries weren't so bad, luckily. A broken collarbone, a lot of bruising, and a bit of swelling above the sergeant's ear that was a simple bump and nothing to be alarmed about. He pulled himself out of the bond with the sergeant with a tired sigh, knowing that he had pretty much done all he could. It had been enough, though, and he knew it. Or he would still be working on it.

He looked up from the patient to Fraiser, and started to say something, but she was a step ahead of him.

"Hayes, Stein, put him to bed."

The two corpsmen she'd addressed looked at her dumbly.

"Ma'am?"

"Put-"

Ian took a tired step back and slipped once more in the puddle of blood. This time he went down without a sound, and Janet's corpsmen leaped forward to grab him.

OOOOOOOOOO

"So…"

Jack looked at Jacob as they walked back through the tunnels.

"Yes?"

The Tok'ra frowned.

"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?"

"What what was about?" Jack asked, blandly.

"That scene with Ian," Jacob said, just a little annoyed at the innocent question when Jack knew damned well what he'd meant.

They'd continued discussing Anubis for another hour after Ian had been hurried out of the room, but there wasn't much more that the Tok'ra could tell them. Just that the system lord was dangerous, and unpredictable – at least so far.

Jacob had asked about the person that Ian had been talking about before he'd been summoned away, and Jack had told him (and Pia and Losand) that all they knew was that they'd had an odd visitor who had mentioned trouble coming. Jacob had been pretty certain Jack had been honest about that. Mainly because he was sure Jack would warn them if there were a particular threat they needed to be aware of. His son in law could be petty when he wanted (and annoying even more often) but he wasn't going to leave the Tok'ra high and dry if he didn't have to.

"I'm not sure, Jacob. I'm here, and he's at the SGC."

"Jack…"

"Jacob…"

The Tok'ra frowned, again.

"Is he all right? He looked tired."

"That was just from being at camp, Jacob," Jack said, honestly. "It wasn't something he enjoyed."

Jacob's frown turned into a rueful smile, his brown eyes amused at the thought of Ian trying to be a counselor to little boys, and his attention neatly diverted from the topic of Ian's abrupt departure.

"I believe that."

"Why don't you come for a visit sometime soon?" Jack offered. "Sam would love to see you."

"I was hoping she'd come with you."

"She had things to do. Besides, even if she comes," Jack told him. "Jake is too young to be gate hopping just yet."

And he'd never in a million years risk his infant son off world with the Tok'ra. Ever. But he didn't say that.

Jacob nodded.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that. After this Anubis thing is taken care of."

They were emerging from the mountain onto the high ledge once more, and Jack looked over at him while Daniel dialed the gate.

"Do it before then. I'll even let you change a diaper and burp him."

The Tok'ra chuckled, and held his hand out to Jack, who shook it.

"Tell Sam I said hi, and that I love her."

"I will."

"And keep an eye on Ian."

"That's my job, Jacob."