"So, how are you doing?"
Sam looked up to find Daniel peering through her doorway. That was taking some getting used to, having a blast door that stayed open most of the time instead of a regular door you could open and close when you wanted to. And she was avoiding Daniel's question. "Okay," she said, forcing a smile. She still hadn't quite forgiven Daniel for letting this happen, but on the other hand, she wasn't sure she'd have been able to do any better if she'd been there.
"That's … good to hear," Daniel said, coming in to join her.
"Daniel, if you have something to say about it, I'd prefer if the door weren't wide open for the whole base to hear." He was watching her carefully. She shuffled some papers around, trying to look busy and self-possessed while he closed the blast door.
"Are you supposed to be drinking that much coffee?" Daniel asked as he joined her again. "Every time I've seen you in the last day or so you've had a mug with you."
"Not really," Sam admitted, fighting down irritation, "but I need the boost. And really, of all the possible hazards the fetus has been through so far, caffeine is probably the least harmful."
"But that's no reason to take chances." Daniel cocked his head to one side. "Besides, why do you need the boost? You haven't been home since the thing with Jack started, and I don't think you've slept much on base. You can't keep pushing yourself like this—and if I recall correctly, you were the one who told me I couldn't stay awake forever after Sha're was … taken. It's just as true for you as it was for me. I could drive you to your apartment, if you want me to."
"I can't go home now," Sam protested. "What if Jack dials home and says he's found it while I'm forty minutes away from the base? What if he just wants to talk? I couldn't stand not knowing what was going on, Daniel. I need to be here."
"Okay," Daniel said. "I understand that, really." He gave her a smile, which she returned wanly. He really was genuinely concerned "But that doesn't mean you can't sleep here while you wait for the other shoe to drop, does it?"
Sam shrugged. "Maybe not. And I've tried, but I just lie awake wondering what's happening to him."
"Maybe Doctor Frasier can give you something to help you sleep," Daniel suggested.
Sam shook her head. "I doubt she would. Janet's cautious enough about the possible effects of gate travel and radiation on the fetus; she doesn't want to add any more stresses to my body."
"Then maybe it'll be enough to wait for the caffeine to work its way out of your system. I'll keep you company, Sam, if you want. Or Doctor Frasier could, or even Teal'c. We're worried about you."
"Teal'c?" That caught Sam's attention. The alien was still largely an unknown factor to her. He'd never really paid particular attention to her before; she could see no reason for him to start now. Though, for some reason she wasn't annoyed with him as she was with Daniel. If the physical attack had been more overt that would have been different, but as it was.…
"Yeah." Daniel shrugged. "He wants to know how he can help. Apparently, among Jaffa it's a warrior's duty to see to the wife of a comrade who's away in battle, make sure she's taken care of if her own family can't do so. Usually that means sending your own wife over with the Jaffa equivalent of a casserole, but as Teal'c doesn't have a wife—at least," Daniel frowned, "I don't think he has a wife, he was a bit unclear about that—anyway, it falls to him."
"I'm not Jack's wife," Sam protested.
"No, but you are carrying his child," Daniel returned. "Apparently Jaffa society is less concerned with formalities than we are. Teal'c doesn't seem to think there was much distinction between carrying Jack's child and raising it with him and being married."
"Ah." Sam glanced down. Normally, she'd be fascinated to hear about Jaffa custom—after all, they still knew so little about their alien comrade. And part of her longed for a distraction, any distraction, from this useless waiting. But somehow, it felt too much like betraying Jack to get immersed in something so unrelated. She glanced at the speaker that would announce an unscheduled offworld activation, and then at the clock. It had been hours since they'd heard from Jack.
"You seem to be handling this well," Daniel said.
"Yeah," Sam said with a mirthless laugh, fighting to hold back tears. "I'm a professional officer. I can keep a stiff upper lip as long as I have to. Meanwhile, the father of my child is stuck on some godforsaken hunk of rock thousands of light-years away, infected with goa'uld nanites doing their best to kill him, with some manipulative woman who can't keep her hands to herself. I don't have a picture of the two of us. Hell, I don't even have one of him by himself. So if he does die, in ten years when our child wants to know who his father was I'm not going to be able to show him a picture. Neither my dad nor my brother have ever met him, and they don't know I'm pregnant yet, so when I do eventually have to tell them, it'll be by myself and Holy Hannah, I don't think I could handle being a single mother!"
Somewhere in the middle of her rant, Daniel had started rubbing her back. She leaned into it, craving the touch. God, she wished Jack were here. "You know the worst thing?" she said, all her fears tumbling out as the floodgates were loosed. "We never talked about so many things. Important things about life, and how we were going to raise the baby. He didn't want to talk about the serious stuff, and I let him get away with it. I know what his favorite episode of the Simpsons was, but not how he felt about discipline, or curfews, or what bedtime stories he likes, or … or … anything. How can I raise the child in a way he'd want if I don't know what he'd want? I can't ask him that over the radio with the entire control room crew listening in! Even if they knew about the pregnancy I couldn't do it!
"God, I wish we'd talked more. I was so mad about that, about how silent he was at our last dinner together, but right now I'd give anything to have him here and healthy even if he never said another word to me." She sniffed and swiped a hand across her eyes, brushing away the water. "I'm sorry, Daniel," she said, closing her eyes and letting the hand on her back soothe her. "It's gotta be the hormones. I can't think straight. I'm turning into a watering pot and I've been absolutely useless at finding anything to help Jack. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
"It's okay," Daniel said. "What are friends for? You needed to let it all out, and I'm glad you trust me enough to do so. In fact, if you have any more that needs to come out, just lay it on me." They sat in silence for a few minutes. "You know, its not you're fault that we can't cure Jack from here. The stuff we need is on Argos, and we can't go there; it's too dangerous. You were the one who figured out what Jack needs to find there; don't sell yourself short."
Sam sighed. "I know, but it just … feels like I should be doing more."
"You've done everything you can," Daniel replied. He moved around to stand in front of her. "And I'm not going to count Jack O'Neill out until he's in the ground. He'll find the control device. And everything will be fine."
Sam brushed her tears away again and opened her eyes. "I hope you're right, Daniel," she said, trying to twist her mouth into a smile. "I hope you're right."