Okay – just because you're all such amazing reviewers (and you begged so nicely!) – here's a quick update.

The two intertwined bodies disappeared in a flash of light.

"Oh thank God, Thor's got Jack. I hope he can save him." Daniel leaned back against the consol, exhausted with everything that had happened. He knew too that part of the tiredness was caused by grief, although Sam's death hadn't truly sunk in yet.

He didn't know how Jack was going to handle her loss. He worried that this would destroy his friend - and a small part of him hoped that Jack could go and be with Sam, wherever she was.

A much larger part, however, hoped and prayed that his friend would be okay. He couldn't imagine a world without Jack O'Neill.

He looked over at Teal'c and could tell his friend was feeling just as 'shell-shocked' as he was. They were going to have to be there for each other as both of them were facing a long, painful road ahead.

"Tea- " without warning Daniel rematerialized in another room, Teal'c standing beside him. "What?" he looked around, confused.

"Hello Dr. Jackson." He realized that Thor had beamed them to another part of the ship.

"Where are Molly and Chris?" he asked, concerned for the two who had so innocently gotten involved in this terrible adventure.

"I have sent them back to Molly's house. Colonel Davis is there and will look after them. I did not think it wise to let young Christopher see O'Neill or Colonel Carter at this time."

Daniel and Teal'c both nodded, relieved that the young boy was out of it for now. Suddenly, off in one corner Daniel could see a pod – a larger one than he was used to. He assumed Jack was inside. He wondered about Sam – whether she was still with him or whether Thor had separated them.

He turned to the pod. "How is Jack?"

"I am afraid I do not know as yet. The chamber does not seem to be working as usual, but I will give it more time."

Teal'c turned and spoke. "What have you done with Colonel Carter?"

"She is still with O'Neill. I can not separate them."

"No, his grip is very strong."

"No, I mean that as long as the pendant glows I cannot – or perhaps it is more accurate to say – I should not separate them."

"Why not?" both Daniel and Teal'c looked confused.

"The pendant is connected somehow to both Colonel Carter and General O'Neill. It would be dangerous to separate them as long as the pendant glows."

"Dangerous? You mean for Jack?"

"Yes, and for Colonel Carter as well."

"But she's dead. How could it be dangerous for her."

"Surely Dr. Jackson you know that death isn't always final. There is always hope."

"Oh my God! Do you mean to tell me you can bring her back?" he asked hopefully.

"No, the Asgard do not have the ability to restore life as do the Nox – or even the Goa'uld with their sarcophagus. No, it shall be O'Neill who brings her back."

"How can he do that?"

"With the power of the Ancient ones."

"But he doesn't have any power. You removed all the knowledge from his mind. He can't do that stuff anymore."

"He does have power; how much we do not know. It appears that Angrboda reactivated the Ancient knowledge in his mind some time ago. It has been developing slowly over a number of months."

"The headaches!"

"What Dr. Jackson?" Thor turned and looked at him, slowly blinking.

"They said that Jack has been dealing with terrible headaches. He told us it was something like migraines but I bet it was the Ancient 'download'."

"Yes, that is probable. It was most likely his mind and brain trying to adapt to the influx of new knowledge and abilities. What you call this 'download' was much slower than the previous times he received the Ancient knowledge, so it appears not to have been as harmful, but it was still painful."

"When are you going to take it out?" Daniel glanced toward the pod where this time he could see the outline of two bodies.

"Take it out? To what do you refer Doctor?"

"Uh, when are you going to remove the Ancient knowledge like you did before."

Thor looked a little shamefaced. "I am sorry, I cannot. The process has gone on much too long and the knowledge has now intertwined with his most basic brain functions. To attempt to remove the knowledge would simply destroy the rest of his brain. On behalf of the Asgard people I do apologize for what has been done to O'Neill."

"But, but what does that mean? Is he going to have to go through terrible pain for the rest of his life? I mean, will he start speaking Ancient again. It'll be like we've lost him all over again."

"I cannot say at this time what the effects will be. I would think that, as his brain and body get used to the changes, the pain would diminish but I am not sure. Right now it does not matter. We do not know whether he will even survive. The wounds left by Angrboda were very serious and he is not responding as normal to our treatment."

They all turned and looked to where Jack, together with Sam, was enclosed in the small medical chamber. They could do nothing but wait.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Jack gently placed his lips against hers. Closing his eyes he took in this last moment, allowing himself to touch and smell and taste – knowing that he would have to hold these memories for a long, long time. He lips could taste the salt of tears – but from whom they came he did not know.

He began to feel the tightness in his throat, the anguish that consumed him. He could not do this, he could not leave her. But she had been right. He had no choice really. He could never leave a small child simply because of his personal desires. He had more to do back on earth – but he couldn't help but wonder why his life always seemed to revolve around terrible sacrifice?

The kiss finally ended, although both of them stood, without moving, not wanting to lose their final connection. It was Sam who eventually stepped back; away from the man she loved with all her being. She knew that right now she was the one who had to be strong. She knew that it would take but a word and he would never leave her side.

"Go now", she whispered. She couldn't take anymore.

"Sam", he cried, tears streaming from his eyes.

She reached up and gently covered his mouth with her fingers. "Please Jack, go. I can't take anymore." She stepped back, away from him. "I'll always love you."

"Oh God", he sobbed. He took a step forward, to try and follow her, but then stopped. A picture of Chris's innocent face suddenly came to focus in his mind, overlaying that of another child – one whom he had failed. Closing his eyes against the pain he nodded.

"You know I'll be back." He could barely speak to get the words out.

"I'm counting on it. I'll be here, waiting for you."

With one final, tiny nod he turned away. He didn't know where he was going, or how to get back, all he knew was that the place he had to go was away from her. He slowly took a step forward, and then another, all the while feeling her eyes on his back. He forced the cries back down, not wanting her to hear his suffering. He continued to walk forward, his body heading back towards life; his heart he left behind with the woman he loved – shattered beyond repair.

She watched him go; the hardest thing she had ever had to do in her life. She desperately wanted to call out to him, to tell him to stop, to stay – but she refused to let the words leave her mouth. It took more courage than she had ever thought possible but she watched him walk away and leave her, the only thing he could do.

He was just about out of sight when she saw him pause, then stop. What was wrong? Why was he not continuing? Had something happened? For a second she felt a small bit of hope – maybe he had died – maybe he could stay? She then felt guilty. That was wrong, he had to live.

He was turning back towards her, and she could see a puzzled look on his face. As she continued to look at him she began to see that look of O'Neill determination appear in his eyes. He finally looked up and caught her eye. She saw him grin – that lopsided grin that meant Jack O'Neill was up to something. Again, hope leapt into her heart. What was happening?

As Jack had stepped away from 'Carter' – the person who was his life, he had been despairing but accepting. He had known there was only one choice, the choice to leave her and continue to live. But the farther he got from her the clearer his mind had become. Why was he so accepting of this? When had he ever just lain down and given up? That was not his way, that was not the bull-headed, stubborn SOB that had made it all these years despite the odds. Why in hell was he giving up now?

It dawned on him, at that last moment, that SG1 never let anything, not even death, stop them and he sure as hell wasn't about to let it stop him now.

He looked at Sam and could see the small bit of hope forming in her eyes. That was all he needed. He turned fully and strode back to her, as quickly as his legs would carry him. He reached out and grabbed her arms fiercely.

"NO! I will not leave you."

"But Jack", she sobbed, not wanting to deal with this again. "We agreed, you have no choice, you have to go. Please, I can't take this, just go."

"I am going."

"But, I don't understand, why did you come back?"

"Because you're coming with me." He said it as if it was a foregone conclusion. He sounded just like the old 'Colonel O'Neill', simply giving her a direct command she couldn't ignore.

"I can't Jack. You know that, you know I'm dead."

"So. When did we ever let that stop us before?" he asked confidently. "You've been dead and came back. Think how many times Daniel's been gone – heck he was gone for a whole year and came back."

"Well, technically he wasn't dead – he'd ascended."

"Hey potato, potahto! Okay then, look at me. I've been dead more times than all of you put together after my little holiday at Chez Ba'al – and here I am."

"Yes, and where exactly are you Jack?" she asked, looking around - although she was starting to feel excited.

"Hell, I don't know. But I do know you're coming back with me."

"How? How can you take me back if I'm dead? You can't raise the dead to life."

"Look, I don't know. I just know that I refuse to leave you." He reached down and grasped one of her hands and pulled her beside him. "Hang on tight – as if your life depended on it", he looked down and grinned. Leave it to Jack to joke at a time like this. "Come on, let's go."

"Okay, but I think you're crazy." She looked skeptically at the path – or lack of path – ahead, but began to walk alongside him, their hands holding on tightly to each other.

"Hey, you know I'm crazy. That's why you love me so much."

"Sadly, there's some truth to that", she muttered softly to herself.

They continued to walk forward, silently, carefully, neither of them sure what they'd find, or what would happen. A couple of times she slid, or tripped and once almost lost her grip on Jack. After that he switched his hands and put one around her back while holding her hand with the other one. After that she seemed steadier.

She didn't know how long they'd been walking when she began to notice some soreness in her chest. She rubbed it a few times, thinking that maybe it was because of the exertion of walking, although that seemed strange considering how fit she was. After the third or fourth time rubbing the sore spot she glanced down at her hand and came to a sudden stop.

"What is it?" Jack looked at her in surprise. She didn't say anything, simply held up her hand, which was now covered in blood. He gasped in shock and then looked at her chest.

"Oh God", he cried. She looked down and could see the wound beginning to grow. Blood was sluggishly seeping out and running down her bare stomach. She looked at Jack in fear, which grew even more as she looked at him.

"Jack!" He looked at her worriedly. "You, your wounds are coming back too." He looked down at his bare chest and could see the gruesome scars begin to reappear. Something dripped down from his face and he quickly realized that it was his blood. He put his hand up to his head; when he brought it away it too was covered in the red liquid.

"What does this mean?" she asked.

"I think it means we're getting closer, that we're going the right way."

"They're getting worse as we continue." She pointed to their individual wounds.

"I know. We'll just have to keep going. Come on, we've both done this before. What's a little pain and blood when we have so much to look forward to?"

She looked at him, appreciating what he was trying to do, but knowing this all might prove futile.

"Jack, I died from my wounds and you were close to it. What if we make it back just to go through this all again?"

"Hey, the beach wasn't so bad was it?" he tried to sound casual but knew his voice gave him away. He was terrified as well.

"Jack!"

"Okay, look, we'll have to trust. We'll have to trust that the guys and Thor will be there for us. Maybe our buddy Thor can save us if he gets to us quickly. You didn't die instantly – so there might be time."

"You didn't die at all. You realize that they might be able to save you but not me?"

"Nope. Not gonna happen."

"Why -"

"Cause I'm not gonna let it", he interrupted her. I refuse to let you die Samantha Carter. The world is not ready for that – I'm not ready for that. You'll just have to listen to me, Colonel. This is an order okay – a direct order from your superior. YOU WILL NOT DIE!" He grabbed her hand again and began to walk forward, although it was becoming increasingly difficult as he grew weaker. What was really irritating was he could see the damn cast beginning to reappear. He should have had them take the thing off days ago.

"Sir, yes, Sir!" she answered, although her voice was frighteningly weak. "Permission to ask one favor Sir?" she asked breathlessly.

"Sure Carter, anything", he answered gently.

"Could you please think me up some BDU's or something? I really don't want to show up in this bikini, especially with a hole in the middle of my chest!"

He laughed, although he barely had breath in his lungs. Yes, this was his Carter – brave as they come.

With each step their pain and weakness grew; so did the amount of blood that was shed on the ground. They were headed towards life – but there was the possibility that there would not be enough in either of them to sustain that life when they arrived.

Even as Jack struggled he knew it was worse for Sam. The wound grew larger until he could no longer stand to look at it. They had nothing with which to bind the wound although he tried ripping his pant legs and used the material to wrap around her, to try and slow the bleeding. The material was quickly saturated, but at least he no longer had to look at the horrifying hole in her chest.

He didn't even want to think about his own wounds. He was positive he was bleeding internally and his mind was beginning to play tricks on him. He knew he had some kind of brain damage from the machine, he just hoped it wasn't anything that would affect him too dramatically.

He heard a sound from beside him and Sam suddenly fell, dragging him down with her. Her eyes were almost closed, her face was paper white and her lips were blue. She didn't have much time.

"I'm sorry … Sir", she gasped quietly. "- can't … go on. Permission … to rest?"

He sat beside her, wanting to cry. Looking at her he knew there was no way she could continue. He was amazed she was even conscious – the pain must have been overwhelming. He didn't even want to think how much blood she'd lost, or what the damage to her organs was. Still, he'd promised he was going to get her back – and he refused to renege on that promise. Crawling to his knees (difficult with one leg in a cast), he reached under her and pulled her to him.

"No Jack." she pleaded. "Just go – leave me."

"Not gonna …. happen, Carter." he answered breathlessly. He struggled to get his one good leg underneath him and pull Sam up at the same time. He could hear her whimpers as the pain the movement caused threatened to overwhelm her. He felt terrible for what he was doing, for the pain he was causing, but he knew he had to ignore her cries and continue.

It took time, time they didn't have, but eventually he was able to get to his feet, holding the dying woman.

As he stumbled forward, her now unconscious body held close, his mind started to wander. He started to wonder if she could be dying since she was already dead. He started to carry on a rather intellectual conversation with himself. At least it kept what little mind he had left off of her condition – and his.

He wished Daniel were here to talk to. He'd have an idea of what this all meant. There was probably some ancient myth that existed in 832 different cultures about this journey he and Sam were on – and Daniel would want to tell him about every single one of them. God, he missed Daniel.

And then there was Teal'c – boy could he use his friend's strength and calmness right about now. He could hear the 'former' Jaffa's voice reminding him that 'you are strong, O'Neill – you will make it through this." The voices of his friends – existing only in his mind – or so he thought - were soon all he could hear as he took each step closer back to their world.

Finally, however, it grew to be too much. He knew he could continue no further. His body would no longer do what he told it to do. The pain and the weakness were victorious. With a silent cry – he had no energy left to even make a sound – he fell to the ground, Sam held closely against his heart.

"I tried, Sam, I tried. At least we're still together." As he faded into unconsciousness, or maybe it was death, he didn't see the one thing that might have given hope. He didn't see the pendant begin to glow with a vibrant light.

So, I hope everyone is a little bit happier …..!