AN: I think I'm going to do a Deaths Spawn sequel next. Ideas for it have been plaguing me at work, it's a miracle I've been able to get anything done. And then I realized that it's been like six days now since I've posted. Eeep.

Sam eyed Janet, her eyes narrowing slightly. The return stare from Janet was equally resolved. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Sam gripped the side tightly. She was still weak, and tended to be asleep more often than not, but she was determined not to show how shaky she was in this position. Not that it should matter.

Sam gave a heavy sigh. "Come on, Janet. I'm not asking to run a damn marathon or anything."

"Sam, I don't know..." Janet began softly. There was deep hesitation in her tone, making Sam look down uncomfortably. She had been playing patient for several days now, and in that context she sometimes forgot that she was also friends with this woman. And so far their conversations had not stretched beyond those of doctor and patient.

It made her slow to realize that not all of Janet's hesitation came from a professional perspective. Despite her guilt, Sam didn't relent. She didn't want to have yet another of those conversations. She wanted to get out of that room.

"Janet." Sam was now begging.

The crack in Janet's stare almost made her smile, knowing that she had won. Instead she schooled the expression into something more thankful than victorious.

"For a little while," Janet said softly.

"Thank you," Sam replied.

"And, I'm going with you."

Sam could only nod at the caveat. Really, she expected no less. It was no surprise they wouldn't let her be alone, much less go somewhere alone. After all, what had she done yet to regain their trust?

While getting away from everyone and their concerned expressions and hesitant conversations sounded like a wonderful idea, Sam was willing to take what she could get.

Janet helped her into the wheelchair. The simple action was far more demanding than it should have been. Sam was loathe to admit how winded it left her, and she tried to quell the slight tremble lingering in her limbs. And Janet had noticed it all, Sam knew, when she saw the small furrow in her brow. However, the woman made no comment, and much to Sam's relief did not end the little escapade then and there.

As soon as they exited the building, the bright sun burrowed into Sam's skull. The headaches waxed and waned now, and with this new explosion of light it seemed to decide to wax again. But Sam would accept the discomfort. It wasn't just pride that drove her, but the simple need to be somewhere else. Even if it was just a couple hundred feet away, outside of the heavy concrete walls rather than within.

Janet stopped her by a nearby bench. Her brow shot up as Sam started to push herself up yet again.

"Really?" Janet said in only mild disbelief. But she merely gave a single chuckle of amusement, expecting no less, and helped Sam from the chair onto the bench. When the deed was done she sat down beside Sam, gently rubbing her back as she regained her breath. "Was that really necessary?"

"Yes," Sam said, completely serious. That time, it had been all about pride.

The ensuing silence was comfortable, and Sam relished its presence. Everyone was talking to her. Gauging her. How could she blame them for that, though? She had seen enough of those looks, those pained expressions, when they thought she was still asleep. She had terrified them. When she allowed herself to think on it, she had terrified herself also. It was only reasonable, if annoying, that they wanted to assure themselves that it was all over.

And, even days later, that moment when Olivia had broken down in front of her still replayed in her head. That had terrified Sam too. It was the first time she was able to grasp the enormity of what had happened, to understand the suffering she had put everyone through - however unintentional. She hated to think that she did that to the people she trusted and cared about the most in her life. And she couldn't fathom being put in their situation.

Guilt stung at the back of her eyes, clenched her throat with unbearable tightness.

Janet's arm was draped across her back, and in response to the display she gave Sam's shoulder a soft squeeze. The gesture was too perfect, too fitting. Here she was on the verge of tears, and Janet was still silent. Because that's what Sam wanted. Knowing that the other woman was restraining herself so, solely for Sam's benefit, stole what breath Sam was still able to get. She knew that Janet craved to do something more, words or a firm hug. Janet had read her, and would do none of these things unless invited.

Sam bit her lip and let the tears fall silently. Until they started to dry up and she was no longer sure who the tears were for. The veil of silence still hung, though Sam could feel that it would soon be broken. Just sitting like she was had left Sam shaky, and she had no doubt that Janet was ready to get her back inside. She had to say her piece first though, while they were still sitting as two friends.

"I'm sorry," Sam said slowly.

Janet sighed. "Sam, you have nothing to be sorry for."

They always answered her apologies the same way. Despite that, Sam knew she'd be apologizing for some time to come. However, this time, it was not for the reason Janet thought.

"Not that," Sam said. "I'm sorry for ignoring you. I forgot that you're not just my doctor in all this."

Janet immediately defended her. "You have had a lot on your mind."

"It's no reason to have neglected you," Sam replied with a firm shake of her head. "You're one of my best friends. Don't get me wrong, I'm sick to death of all the questions everyone has been asking me and all the concerned stares, but I haven't even considered that you and I are going to have to have one of those talks at some point."

"Those talks," Janet repeated dubiously. They both laughed.

"Pretty stupid of me," Sam said with a wistful smile.

"You're being way too hard on yourself," Janet said. Sam opened her mouth to counter the statement, but Janet raised her hand. "It's only been a few days now, and Lord knows what you have to sort through. But here you are worrying about everyone else."

Sam looked at her with a wide-eyed expression of confusion. Why was she saying it like it was a bad thing?

Janet sighed when it was obvious that Sam didn't understand. "This is one of those times where it wouldn't hurt you to be a little... selfish."

"Excuse me?"

"Not only is everyone tiptoeing around you, but you're turning around and doing the exact same thing right back. Especially with one person in particular. You haven't had one of those talks with Colonel O'Neill yet, have you?"

She hadn't. Really, the two had talked about very little, practically none of it of substance. It was an uncomfortable atmosphere, and Sam realized that she had seen little of him when she was awake. Questions burned in her head, but Sam wasn't sure that she wanted to hear the answers.

Janet continued. "You still don't remember it, do you?"

Sam slowly shook her head. Everyone, not just Jack, skirted around that one issue. No one wanted to bring it up, to discuss it. Sam knew just enough about it to fear knowing more. All she truly remembered was Jack's scream. The rest she merely pieced together from Daniel's slip-up. She lost count of the number of dreams she had about it, though she knew none of them came close to the actual memory.

"I don't know if I can go there," Sam said. And, she recalled Jack's face for that brief moment when she had awoken. "I don't know if he can."

"Skirting the issue isn't doing either of you any good. You can't ignore it forever."

"Are you sure?" Sam said hopefully. But she already knew the answer.

Janet shook her head slightly, giving Sam a small, sad smile. And then Janet nodded to the wheelchair. "I think I've been more than kind."

"I do appreciate it," Sam replied. And at least she was tired enough now that she could put off that uncomfortable proposition a while longer.