"If you're waiting for me to leave, you're gonna be waiting a long time."

He was talking to someone else, clearly, because Sam was certain she hadn't moved a muscle – including her eyes – since she'd woken up again.

"A long time," Colonel O'Neill said behind her. "So I hope you're not thirsty. And IVs always make me have to pee."

Damn. Blinking a few times, she settled her gaze at her feet and murmured, "I'm sorry, sir."

Out of her range of vision, one brow arched.

She wasn't going to cry, she reminded herself. But things had to be said before they parted ways. "I know I've been a royal pain in your ass, but... it's been an honor serving with you, sir. I mean that. Being out there – being a part of SG-1 – was... more than I ever imagined. I'll never forget that."

"Carter."

"And I'm sorry I let you down, sir." The words came out horrifyingly close to a whimper. "I know you expected better. So did I."

"Carter, for cryin' out loud."

The words were irritated – rightfully so – and she clammed up, her eyes still glued to her sheet-covered toes. He didn't say anything else, but he sat there, dammit, and she wished he'd just leave so she could cry in peace. And then get more painkillers for the body that had failed her so completely at the worst possible stage of her life.

The colonel's thumb and forefinger traced his eyebrows, pushing away the irritation before he rested his chin on his hand. "I had a buddy in Iraq," he said finally. "Squint. Damn good spotter. We usually worked in teams of four – two of us headed for a target while one guy covered us with a sniper rifle and Squint called the plays. But I wasn't terrible with a rifle myself, and sometimes we paired up. Squint and I started off for a compound one night, hiked until the sun came up, then bedded down until we could move again. Except that he couldn't," her CO pressed. "He'd done something in his sleep, and he was in so much pain he couldn't even stand. He told me to go on – to finish it alone. And I could have. I thought about it. But I just knew it was the wrong call. I knew I had to get him back to base."

"What happened to him?" Sam asked softly.

The sound he made could only be described as a pained chuckle. "He'd, uh... twisted a nut," her CO told her. "It spun around inside and cut off its own blood supply."

"Oh, God," she managed. That sounded incredibly painful.

"The docs did some surgery, told him he could still have kids, and life moved on. They told me that if I hadn't brought him back, gangrene would have killed him right there in camp. It was a fluke," he pressed. "Some random, one in a million, wacky thing. Sound familiar?"

She nodded.

"It shouldn't, because it's not the same."

Surprised, her eyes flew over only to find his staring intently back at her. "That was an easy call," he pressed. "I understood what he was feeling – physically, mentally. I understood the kind of pain it took to get him to that point – and what could do that. I understood Squint's weak spots, because I'd spent decades in a body a helluva lot like his. And then there's you." Elbows on his knees, he leaned into her, militantly holding her gaze. "I don't even have the pieces and parts that blew up on you yesterday. I have no concept of what that felt like or the kind of pain you were in. All I could do was take you at your word."

Her eyes dropped, and he caught her chin to bring them back. "Tell me," he said, and though the request was quiet, it was firm, "did you know you were in trouble? Did that little voice in your head ever once tell you this was serious?"

She just couldn't hold his gaze as she confessed, "That night. Just for a second."

"Then that's where you went wrong." He let her go but didn't back down. "You're not gonna like what I'm about to say, Captain, but here it is: we're different. Physically different. We have different limitations. I won't judge you for being sick. I won't judge you for not being able to lift something, or reach something, or for asking for help. I get the path you're trying to blaze here, but playing Wonder Woman isn't gonna get you there. It's gonna get you hurt. Or it's gonna get somebody else hurt. And I cannot express to you how pissed off I'm gonna be when that happens. I need you to be honest with me, Captain," he pressed. "That's the only way this can work."

Sucking in a breath, she managed, "I'm still on the team?"

"Squint and I were running ops three weeks later." He pushed to his feet. "So rest up."

"Yes, sir."