Chapter 8

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Sam slowly opened her eyes, squinting as she took in the familiar sights and sounds, of the SGC. And the smells. She wrinkled her nose and coughed, her throat dryer than she could ever remember it being. Becoming more and more aware, she lifted her head to look around, then laid it back down. No neck ache. Trying again, she pushed herself up on her elbows, surprised at how weak she felt. Yes she was in the infirmary, but it was very quiet. Too quiet. Must be night. That's the only time it's ever this quiet in here, she thought. She coughed again as she fumbled for the controls to lift the bed. She was too weak to sit up on her own, but she needed to be move.

Slowly, with each push of a button, the back support of the bed began to rise and Sam leaned back gratefully. Now if she could only manage to bring the small pitcher resting on the bedside table closer.... As she reached for it she glanced over at the bed beside her and froze.

Jack.

Sam shook her head and frowned, staring across at him. He looked so still, so pale. She could see his right hand, lying tucked along his side, opening and closing slightly, as if he were looking for something. That tiny movement relieved her. He'd looked so still and pale that for a moment... she fought down a shudder. Ignoring the water, Sam instead raised the back of the bed higher, until it was at as much of a ninety-degree angle as possible. She eased her legs over the side, letting them dangle down and realized that with the bed so high she, despite being quite tall, was unable to reach the floor. With a frustrated sigh she muttered to herself and again manipulated the controls, finally bringing her feet into contact with the floor.

It didn't occur to her consider what she was wearing until she'd lifted off the blanket. Damned hospital gowns. She looked lower and cursed softly. Oh crap. I must've been out for a while! To her absolute disgust she was attached to a catheter. She looked over at the Colonel's bed and saw that he, too, was plugged in to one of those disgusting–but oh, so necessary–things. She also saw that he was beginning to stir. Sam grimaced again as she realized just how much he would hate having that thing taken out while awake. She gave in and tapped the call button, moving as quickly as she could to lie back down and disguise the fact that she'd been considering taking a short walk.

"Major?" The medical officer's voice was soft as she peeked around the curtained area. The face matched the voice and Sam was surprised to find an older woman standing there, her uniform crisp and trim, bright green eyes peeking out from under a cap of crisp, grey curls.

"Hi. I'm sorry, I don't think we've met. Do you think you could...ah...unplug me, here?" Sam waved toward the Foley catheter bag hanging off of bed rail.

The woman smiled and nodded. "No problem. Major Anne McGill, I'm the relief doc. Doctor Fraiser said that as soon as you woke you could have it out. I'll be right back."

"Thanks. Oh, and Doctor? You might want to do the same for Colonel O'Neill. Looks like he's going to wake up soon, too. And...you really don't want to have to do that with him awake." Sam smiled wryly.

McGill glanced over to where the Colonel lay, nodding as she saw his increasingly restless movements. "Good idea, Major, and it's 'Anne.'" She gave Sam a bracing nod and then popped back out of the curtained area again.

Sam sighed and leaned back, trying to sort through what she remembered of the last few days. She knew she and Ja– the Colonel had been out of it, but she was really surprised that she had no memory of returning through the stargate. Usually that act alone was enough to wake her, disconcerting–and cold–as their trips through usually were.

McGill returned and pulled the privacy curtain behind her, shielding Sam's bed from O'Neill's. Sam realized that while her bed had a curtain on both sides, as was usual thing for the infirmary, the entire room didn't feel quite...right to her. Too quiet, too...closed in. She felt a flash of panic as she thought of another time when the SGC hadn't been right. Hadn't been real. Instinctively she reached out and touched the strange doctor's hand, trying to feel for the distinctive tingle that accompanied the presence of a Goa'uld. Finding nothing, she looked up to find McGill looking back at her, a puzzled expression on her face.

"Sorry," Sam muttered. "Just trying to get my bearings." They must be tucked into one end of the infirmary, further away from the main area of activity. With one part of her brain working on that, Sam reflected that it was nice to be able to think clearly again, even about the most mundane things.

McGill did her work quickly, releasing the tiny air bag that held the catheter in place. As the doctor did her thing, Sam once again turned her attention to her surroundings. With the additional drapes drawn, they were in a slightly smaller, more private space. Sam realized as she looked around that the hangings were longer than the ones she was familiar with, that in fact the entire ceiling was higher than that of the infirmary. She couldn't quite figure it all out and decided to just ask questions, starting with her illness.

"Bacterial meningitis." McGill's voice was matter-of-fact as she finished with Sam's medical needs. "You, Major Carter, have been one very sick woman." She lifted a shoulder in the direction of the Colonel's bed. "Him too."

Sam couldn't have been more surprised if the doctor had told her she had chicken pox. "Meningitis? How the heck did I get that?"

"Fraiser says that one of the kids in her daughter's class came down with it about two weeks before you left for P7C-726." McGill paused, one eyebrow raised speculatively, her eyes sparkling at Sam. "Doctor Fraiser wasn't sure how you both got infected though. It's kind of unusual for it to spread the way it did." She waited and then, realizing she'd get no response from Sam, added wryly, "This version is usually spread by close contact. With the nose or mouth."

"Oh." Sam shrugged and closed her eyes. "Beats me." Oh, here we go. She realized that McGill hadn't moved and opened her eyes to find the older woman still standing there, a gentle, almost knowing smile on her face. Sam studied her for a moment, wondering what it was she had seen while she cared for them. Whatever she thinks she saw, or heard, it doesn't matter. I was sick. Ja– the Colonel was sick. Besides, we've never done anything. Despite her own mental reassurances, Sam was suddenly uncertain. If they hadn't done anything, how had she gotten O'Neill sick?She gave the doctor a weak smile and closed her eyes again, hoping the older woman would take the hint.

McGill was economical in her movements and she chatted casually while she worked, carefully discarding the used equipment. Not only did she remove the catheter, but she also disconnected Sam's IV, efficiently covering the small hole with a Band-Aid. Sam, to her own surprise, was relaxed by the doctor's calm, even tone, her gentle conversation as she went about the business of cleaning Sam up; especially considering that McGill was a virtual stranger. The doctor startled her with a gentle pat on her arm, drawing Sam's attention back. "There, all done. You're free of this if you promise to drink fluids as directed. Give me a minute or two with the Colonel and then you can visit."

"Hmm?" Sam turned her head, eyeing the nurse in surprise.

"I figured you'd have been over there by now if you hadn't discovered your Foley." McGill leaned close, making sure to hold Sam's gaze. "I'm probably way out of line here, Major, but...." The doctor shrugged. "What the hell. You and Colonel O'Neill have been in my care for the last fourteen days. It's pretty clear–"

"Fourteen days!" Sam interrupted, her jaw dropping open in surprise. She had no idea they'd been sick so long.

"Yes, Major. Fourteen days." Again she gave Sam a gentle, knowing smile. "We had you in separate Iso rooms for the first two days, then realized that neither of you were getting any real rest. It wasn't until we moved you into here that you both began to steadily improve."

"Here?" Sam tried not to consider the implications of the doctors other words.

McGill nodded. "Yep, 'here.'" She reached over and opened the curtain on the other side of Sam's bed. Instead of the familiar walls of the infirmary, Sam found that she was staring at the slate-grey walls of one of the isolation-slash-observation rooms. The curtain the doctor had pushed aside served to block the view from the angled windows above. And, she noted absently, the ever-present security cameras. Sam had sat many times in that small upper room, watching the goings-on below. Now she was the subject, and she didn't like that idea at all. Had Teal'c and Daniel sat watching them? Hammond? Everyone? Sam shuddered at the thought. Forcing herself to focus, she asked, "Are we still...?"

McGill twitched the curtain back into place, effectively eliminating any chance of observation from the room above. "No, you've been on a solid course of antibiotics for all of that time and are no longer in any danger of infecting anyone else. However," She paused then continued. "It seemed more...prudent...to keep the two of you in here. Together." McGill's green eyes stayed on Sam's, everything about her encouraging Sam to trust the woman. "You're listed as the Colonel's next of kin, so I can share this with you, too. We had him on a course of anti-seizure meds as well, as his fever kicked up high enough to cause some concern."

Sam bit back a gasp and McGill moved quickly to reassure her. "Relax, Major. He's going to be fine. Just as you are." Again she patted Sam's arm in a gesture reminiscent of Sam's mother and that simple action calmed Sam more than any words could have. She reached up and stopped the doctor from leaving.

"I'm sorry, I interrupted you earlier. What were you going to say?"

Another gentle smile crossed McGill's face as she studied Sam. "It's not important, Major." Giving Sam's hand a final squeeze, she stepped back. "Let me get your Colonel situated and then we can get you over there for a visit. I think it'll do you both some good."

Doctor McGill slipped around the curtain to work on O'Neill and Sam slowly inched her way to the edge of the bed. By the time she had her feet back on the floor, McGill was back. "Oh, I forgot, Major. Your team member, the big fella? He had these things washed for you. Thought you might be more comfortable in these instead of the standard-issue gowns." She dropped a small pile of folded clothing on the edge of the bed near Sam. "Do you need help with this at all?"

Sam reached out and fingered the overly large t-shirt and the printed boxers lying underneath. She thought of turning the woman down and then remembered Teal'c's oft-repeated words. There is no shame in asking for help. "Gold tattoo on his forehead? That's Teal'c. And...I could probably use a hand, I guess. I'm still really shaky." She offered the doctor a smile of her own. "And, if you don't mind, call me Sam."

The doctor efficiently and quickly helped Sam change. Once she got a good look at the boxers, McGill let loose a warm chuckle, a sound Sam couldn't help but echo. She didn't know where Teal'c had found them, but the shorts were perfect. The dark blue material was littered with the colorful figure of Bart Simpson in various poses, but it was the lettering that made both officers smile. "'I AM SO SMRT'" was stamped here and there in large bold print.

Sam needed a short rest after completing even that simple act of getting dressed, so she leaned against the edge of the bed, absently tracing the words with her finger, a small smile playing across her lips. She had a flicker of a memory, of being in the tent and of using the last of her strength to pull those shorts up her still-damp legs. Just as quickly as it came, it was gone, followed quickly by another. That second memory brought with it a third, and she wondered suddenly where her own wet underwear had ended up.

The doctor's gentle cough brought Sam's attention back, and she looked up to find a surprisingly indulgent smile on the woman's face. "Ready?"

"Mhm hm." McGill provided a steady arm upon which she could lean as they crossed the short distance to O'Neill's bedside. She slid a padded chair close and gently pushed Sam down into it, then nudged it closer still to the bed. Without a word she dropped the bedside rail, then lifted Sam's hand and rested it on O'Neill's. At Sam's look of surprise McGill leaned close. "When you feel up to it, Major, I'll tell you how I met my Benjamin. But for now...." She stood and gestured to the surrounding curtains. "It's just the two of you. I'm right outside, in a desk by the door," she said, giving Sam a friendly smile. "I'm close enough to hear if you need me, but not too close. Okay?"

With one last gentle pat to Sam's shoulder the doctor left, her steps so soft that Sam didn't hear her move. Sam leaned forward and wrapped her other hand around O'Neill's, rubbing a thumb across the back of his knuckles. She bit back a yawn, fighting her need for sleep. Scooting the chair as close as she was able, she laid her right arm atop the bed, nestled comfortably along Jack's leg and hip, her fingers still woven through his. As she laid her head down to rest against her shoulder her thoughts spun in lazy circles. How had they gotten meningitis? How had Jack gotten it from her? She assumed she gave it to him, since she had gotten sick first. Sam's thoughts became more scattered as she slipped into sleep. Doctor McGill's face drifted through her thoughts, and she wondered about the story the doctor wanted to share. How could it relate? Had they said something while feverish? She remembered snatches of conversations with him, feelings really, but nothing definite. Maybe she'd remember more later, for now...with a final sigh, Sam drifted back to sleep.

She felt like she'd just closed her eyes when she felt warm fingers slide gently through her hair, then trace delicately along her eyebrows and down her cheek to her lips. Sam opened her eyes to find Jack's gaze warm on hers, a small smile hovering on his lips. She blinked sleepily and lifted her head, feeling an answering grin steal across her own.

"Hi," She whispered.

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