0600

As Walter had suggested, General Landry found Jack alone in the gym, gloves on his hands and the heavy bag taking a beating. "Have you been here all night?"

"Mostly."

Landry hadn't gotten much sleep himself, but it was better than nothing. After two nights without it, the other man was surely suffering. "Sit down, Jack."

If anything, the next tirade was harder. "I've done nothing but sit," he growled, punctuating it with the blows. "Almost two days now, and I've just sat here. I'm not a sitting type of guy, Hank."

"I know." He also knew Jack was likely picturing his own face on the punching bag – after all, Landry was the one who'd kept him on Earth, and the one who'd effectively cut him out of managing the situation. And while he still thought it was the right call, he could see how difficult it had been for the man in front of him to step aside. "Jim Rathbone died in surgery."

The gloves caught the bag and stilled it abruptly. "Yeah. I figured."

"Carolyn said his veins wouldn't hold the stitches. Wherever they tried to repair, it just got worse."

"I'm sure she did her best." Turning his back, he yanked the gloves off and began unwrapping the athletic tape from his hands. "Two months."

Landry left him the privacy his position afforded and asked, "What?"

"Two months tomorrow," he said again. "Eight weeks. Fifty-five days. After all the crap we had to go through, the letters, the hearings... it took so long. So the first time I kissed her was just two months ago. And now..." Now, he was days – maybe hours – from losing her forever. "We wasted so much damn time."

He'd never known Jack to be a man to be coddled, so Hank gave him the hard truth instead. "You still are."

The other man spun on him in surprise as the words hit home. Isolating himself in the gym was only cheating them out of the little time they might have left. With a nod, he set the gloves down and headed for the door.

"Jack," Hank called after him. "Do her a favor. Shower first."

~/~

Someone had chosen to close the dividers by the time Jack made it back to the infirmary. He couldn't decide if that was wise or foolish: when the next man goes down, it said, we don't want you to see what's going to happen to you.

It was depressing. But it was apt.

He tucked a corner back just far enough to slip through Carter's area and found her propped to sitting, a book in her lap, noticeably paler than the night before. Still, she smiled at him. "Hey."

"Hey." His own smile didn't quite get there. "I, uh... I wanted to apologize for last night. I should've-"

"You did the right thing," she interrupted. "I... needed a minute, myself. And if you'd come over here, I don't... I don't know what would've happened." And neither of them could afford to lose their composure with so many subordinates relying on them.

"I still feel like an ass about it." Which was why he stood awkwardly at the foot of her bed rather than slumped in his usual chair. "Did Landry at least say something profound and inspiring after I left?"

"Oh, yes. So profound that I immediately forgot it all. But maybe I'm just jaded – I've lived through a lot of those speeches."

"Yes, you have. Remember that. Did you get any sleep?"

She nodded. "A couple of hours. Have they located SG-13?"

"No word yet."

"And Daniel?"

"Still combing the village, trying to figure out what makes those people so special. By the time he's done sending samples, we'll have enough food here to throw a party," he joked.

"Well, it could be anything. Something in their diet, or the water. The materials they use to build their houses, even."

So he'd been told, but that only meant it would take longer. And time was something they no longer had in excess.

One pale, battered hand patted the mattress beside her, and he perched there. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." Slowly, carefully, she began to leverage herself away from the pillows to sit on her own.

"Whoa, hey, I don't think you should do that." Especially after what had just happened to Rathbone. "Lay down."

"In a minute."

"No, you need to-"

"Jack." Her head landed ever so gently on his shoulder. The embrace was awkward, limited by her fatigue and the central line sticking out from her right collarbone, and it terrified him to know that one wrong move could leave her seriously injured – or worse. Still, he attempted to return the gesture, letting his fingers land weightlessly on the back of her white shirt.

She appreciated the effort more than she could possibly put into words. Determined to hang on to the moment, her senses documented everything about him: his scent, his broad shoulders, his stubble from yesterday's shave. He was warm and strong, the antithesis to her condition, and she would need to hold on to that. Because she wouldn't be able to hold on to him much longer. With her platelet levels quickly approaching critical, contact became riskier by the minute, and this would likely be their last. Maybe ever. Tilting her lips the tiniest bit toward his ear, she murmured, "I've been really happy with you, Jack."

The muscles in his jaw clenched hard against her cheek. And again, and again as he struggled for composure. The single word he managed was desperate. "Don't."

"Okay." Content to have gotten a few minutes close to him, she didn't need to push for goodbye yet. She hoped.

"Unscheduled offworld activation!"

To Jack's credit, he didn't startle enough to jar her. "Teal'c," he said, and waited patiently for her to detangle herself and slip back onto the pillows.

"Keep me in the loop," she answered, and watched him go.