Sam sat next to Martouf's bed, ranting and laughing away as she rambled on about her childhood experiences:
"So anyway, on my sixth birthday my dad decided to surprise me by putting this big blowup clown doll in my room after I went to sleep. This way when I woke up in the morning I'd have something funny and colorful to look at. He said he just wanted to bring a smile to his baby's face for her birthday. Right, so it sort of backfired. I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, and all I saw was this silhouette that just seemed to be staring at me from across the room as I was sleeping. I screamed so loud I woke up the entire house. Ever since then I've been so afraid of clowns." Samantha was laughing so hard she was almost out of breath, "Oh god, heh, you know I never told anybody that. Mark still hasn't let me live that down. You know, when you get better, you should meet him. He's really funny."

Today was Sam's day off. Although she knew that her friends preferred for her to be at home resting, nothing made her feel as comfortable as when she sat next to her love, holding his hand. With her frequent bouts of depression, no one dared to separate her from his side. A month and a half now, the more time passed that they didn't awaken, the more worried and depressed she became. Still she would not give up on them.

I become faintly aware of soft hands holding mine. There is a voice speaking to me but I only partially hear what she's saying. I should wake up, but for whatever reason I am feeling rather weak and unable to move. There is mumbling within my head, but I think it is normal. My body is throbbing and I have a headache the size of a moon, I immediately try to alleviate the situation, but it will take some time. I retreat deeper back into my slumber. I cannot help myself, I am far too weak.

I wake up again; the woman who had stayed by my side has fallen asleep. Well, I can only assume that it is the same woman as before, but I cannot be sure seeing as I had not yet opened my eyes. Still holding my hand she begins to shift her weight upon the bed, she's asleep but at hearing her moans and erratic breathing I sense her dreams are troublesome. I wish there was some way for me to soothe and comfort her, perhaps awaken her from her nightmares; but all I can do is gently rub her hands with my thumb. Wake up. I should wake up.

I attempt to open my eyes slightly, an action I later come regret as the bright light hits my eyes, briefly worsening my headache. /Urgh, why did you have to do that/ what? I rub my head with my right hand, the other is still held in a tight grasp by the woman sitting by me. The woman, who is she? I attempt to sit myself up without disturbing her, she moans, so I stop. After a brief moment when I am sure she is still asleep I attempt to sit up again. Her head is rested comfortably upon my lap so rather than awaken her to ask of where I am. I am content to just let her sleep. It seems her dreams have changed to something more pleasant, she is now smiling.

/ She's absolutely beautiful. / I know. But even with that much beauty there's still so much sadness lingering. She appears to have been through quite an ordeal, from her swollen eyes I can tell she's been crying. A beautiful woman like that should not cry. I wonder what she dreams of. /As do I. / There's that voice again.

"Mmm… Martouf." She moans. Martouf, is that me? It must be, why else would she be at my side holding on to me in such a manner? I gently brush the hair away from her face. There is an overwhelming amount of sorrow there. It leaves me to ponder what has conspired that brought us to where we are now. I barely notice as she opens her eyes. There is a look of absolute shock.

"You're awake." Her voice was filled with a sense of hope and happiness.

"I am." I say frankly. She frowns. Have I said something wrong/Your response was cold and unfeeling. / Was it? What should I have said?

"Okay, I guess I deserve that after what I did to you." She moves closer to me and my body is flooded with a plethora of emotions, all for this woman. She seems to be fighting back tears. This is becoming more confusing. "I don't blame you for being upset at me after what happened, but I promise I will make it up to you, just give me the chance please, I'll make it up to you." She's pleading with me, my only response it to take her within my arms and hold her. Confusion. As her tears seep through my garment I cannot help but think that I like the feeling of her against me like this. It sounds selfish.

"Please, do not cry." What could she have possibly done that would result in my being upset at her? What has happened between us? Whatever it is she seems to have placed the blame solely on herself.

After her breathing begins to calm, she pulls herself back. Instantly I miss her touch. I can see that she is with-child; in fact she appears to be nearly half way through her gestation. That's it! I must be her mate, and my name must be Martouf. She opens her mouth as if to speak but stops herself.

"Lantash… Oh god you have no idea how much I've missed you." Lantash? I thought my name was Martouf. Then who is Martouf? A friend? Perhaps… a lover? Is he the father of this child? Jealousy runs throughout my body and I can't help but feel angry and hurt. Something inside me soothes me, as if holding me in an embrace and I begin to calm down again.

"With what name did you refer to me by?"

"Lantash." This upsets her. "You don't remember who you are?" At least now I am not the only one who is confused.

"I... I am…" What is my name?

"Hold on." There's panic in her eyes.

"Where are you going?" I tighten my grip on her hand. I do not want her leaving; her presence is the only thing preventing me from losing my sanity. The voice in my head is only adding to the confusion I'm already feeling.

She looks at me and smiles, then leaning over she gives me a kiss on the cheek. "I'm not leaving you, I promise. I'm just going to reach over and call Janet in here."

"Janet?"

"Yeah, she's uhmm, the doctor who's overseeing your care." She walks across the room and proceeds to pick up an odd instrument against the wall. From what I can gather, it is some form of a communication device. "Janet… he's awake. I need you here as soon as possible." She's whispering into the instrument, but I can hear her perfectly even through the distance. "There's something wrong."

Something wrong? What could be wrong? I feel quite well at the moment, I've even managed to dissipate whatever pain I was feeling when I had awoken. In fact, I feel as if I'm in perfect health /aside from the fact that you don't know who you are. / I agree. What? who are you/I know as much as you do my friend. / This is ludicrous, why am I speaking to myself?

She returns to my side and looks at me. She doesn't know what to say to me, anymore than I know what to say to her. Dear universe, I have never seen anyone so beautiful. Something inside of me urges me to pull her in for an embrace, so I willingly comply. We remain this way, for a moment, simply enjoying one another's touch. But soon we are interrupted by a hoard of people entering the room.

Janet Frasier, General Hammond, and the rest of SG-1 rush into the infirmary. None could believe what they saw next. Sam was sitting on the bed with Martouf/ Lantash, holding each other. But more importantly he was awake. No one dared to say it out load, but they all thought the same thing that he was essentially a goner, after all, he had been in a progressive coma since being pulled out of stasis and not even the help of a symbiote could pull him out of it.

Janet immediately rushed to Martouf, pulling out a pen light from her pocket, she began to check the dilations in his retina. He quickly attempted to pull away from her, but she was insistent upon continuing her check up. "Do you have any idea where you are?"

"I was hoping you would inform me."

"Okay, follow my finger," she continued as she moved her finger from left to right. Lantash didn't understand the purpose of it, but complied to her wishes anyway. "Any idea who you are?"

"Ahh…"

"How about you're host?"

"My host?"

"Yes, the man who's body you reside in?"

"This isn't my body?"

"No, you share it with your host. Do you remember his name?"

"That explains the voices within my head."

"Yes it would."

"Schizophrenia."

"You know this word?" Janet didn't understand where he would've heard it, but Sam smiled at the memory it brought forth in her mind. Their first meeting.

"I remember hearing it."

"I see. Mind I speak to your host?"

"Of course," There was a long pause as Lantash attempted to allow the inner voice forward, "How do I…?" Suddenly he felt himself being pulled back as another presence came forth to speak.

"Hello."

"Martouf?"

"Is that who I am?"

"You don't remember anything either?"

"I am only aware of small flashes of memory, nothing coherent. So my name is Martouf?"

"Yes."

"And the other voice, he is Lantash?" \So you are the one she dreams of. Are we both mated with her, or just you?\Lantash asked his host.

/I do not know, perhaps we should ask?/

\Not here, it may be a private matter.\

/Perhaps you are correct./

"Martouf? Are you alright?" As he was having an internal conversation, and for a brief moment forgotten that Janet was still talking to him, interrogating him so that she may gauge just how much damage had been done to his brain.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I was speaking to someone."

"Lantash."

"Yes."

"I see. Well as far as I can tell you're perfectly fine, physically. It's amazing, it's as if you didn't just wake up from a coma. Unless of course you take into consideration the fact that you can't remember anything. We should contact the Tok'ra."

"The Tok'ra."

"Yes, your people."

"My people? If the Tok'ra are my people than why am I here under you're care. Who are you?"

"It's a long story, besides, I'd like for you to gain back as much of your memories on your own."

"What if I never remember?"

Janet paused for a second before answering the question, if such was the case, the prognosis would not be a good one. "Well, it could mean that there are some underlying problems, perhaps brain damage. But on the bright side, you seem perfectly healthy to me, I don't see why you can't make a full recovery." Sam moved closer to Martouf and took his hand in hers, offering him a reassuring smile.

"Janet you won't mind if I just have a moment alone with him please?"

"Of course." As Janet guided everyone else out of the room, Sam simply stared at him in amazement.

"I can't believe you're here now, that you're alive and ok."

"I love you." He simply stated. Martouf didn't know what else to say except for what was most clear to him. The regular Martouf would not have been so candid with his feelings, but with no memories of his past, he had no inhibitions. She smiled and took a deep breath as tears of happiness fell down her cheeks.

"I love you too, and I love Lantash, I love you both so much. I thought I'd never hear you say those words."

"Why would you think such a thing? Are we not mated?"

"It's complicated."

"I see… Where is the complication if we are both equally in love with one another?"

She wished she had known that earlier. He was right, so long as there was that strong bond between them, the complications of their working environment and distance could've been worked out. It's just a shame they were too afraid to confess their feelings, so many things could have been different. But now was not the time to dwell. He moved over slightly to offer her a seat on the bed.

"When the Tok'ra come, they'll want you to go back with them."

"I must leave you?" Sam nodded her head, eyes fixed upon the floor unable to look into his. "Do you want me to leave you?"

"No."

"Then I will not."

"I don't think there's really a choice in the matter."

"Samantha, there is always a choice."

"You remembered my name?"

"What?"

"My name, I never told you my name, but you remembered it." She smiled as she leaned in to kiss him. The feelings that flooded her were overwhelming. No longer was she depressed and alone, she had them back now and nothing was going to take them away from her ever again.