1900

Sergeant Harriman glanced up from his Gate reports at the footsteps on the spiral staircase, and apparently failed to school his expression when he realized who it was. "You can say it," General O'Neill growled. "I look like crap. Then again, so do you."

He hadn't left the base since Friday night; that was probably true. "Have you gotten any sleep, sir?" he asked.

"Not a lot. Got some of the meds, though. What's the update?"

"Two teams headed out with the requested mining gear twenty minutes ago, sir. At that time, the medical team was in sight of the village. They should be setting up now."

"How long to the mountain?"

"With the equipment, sir, we estimated five hours." When the other man checked his watch, he added, "But they said they'd try to beat that. How is she, sir?"

"Sleeping, last I checked," he said. "She's been napping on and off all day. Losing Rathbone really got to her, I think."

"And Sergeant Siler?"

"Good-natured as always. Did you know he had a girlfriend?"

"No."

"He was talking to somebody on the phone. Hell, maybe it was his mother. I don't know." Walter almost chuckled, but stopped when the general pinched the bridge of his nose. "I just don't know."

They weren't talking about Sergeant Siler anymore, and Walter just nodded in sympathy. "Has she had dinner yet, sir? Maybe she'd like some Jell-O."

"Yeah, maybe. Maybe. I'll give it a shot."

"We'll keep you updated, sir."

The sergeant couldn't help but think, as the CO stuffed his hands in his pockets and wandered away, that he'd never seen him look quite so lost.

~/~

The medical staff was bustling, packing up linens and drapes for removal in preparation for the radiation treatment. Jack stepped out of the way as a hamper rolled by, trailed by two empty stretchers. Curtains were still up around the patients, though, and he ducked quietly into Carter's area.

She was awake, surrounded by the rest of SG-1. If her appearance was anything to go by, Doctor Lam had been one hundred percent correct about the fate of SG-16. The anemia occurred later and maybe wasn't lethal, but its effects were faster and far clearer. She'd lost most of her color in the few hours he'd been gone, leaving the deep purple speckles and patches framed in stark white. She didn't even attempt to lift her head from the pillow anymore.

Still, when she saw him and the parfait glass in his hand, she smiled. "My favorite."

"They had lemon today. I got him to make a special batch."

"Good. Lemon..." She shook her head a little. "Bad memories."

The words were soft, and SG-1 shifted to hear her better as Daniel made room for Jack. "Bad memories of Jell-O?" the younger man asked.

"Yeah. They used to make Jell-O salads for everything, you know." Carefully, she wrapped both hands around the glass Jack offered.

"Got it?" he asked, but she didn't. It dipped as he tried to give her the weight of it, leading to a short, awkward battle with gravity that only ended when Daniel rolled over a table and Jack set the dessert on it.

She stared at it, then the useless purple-spotted hands in her lap. So did the general.

"I have never seen a salad of Jell-O," Teal'c spoke up. "Are salads not made of vegetables?"

"Well, there's fruit salad," the newest member of SG-1 suggested. "Pasta salad."

Daniel took the hint – distraction – and chimed in. "Tuna salad."

"Gross," Cam said.

"Chicken salad," the archaeologist tried again. "Egg salad."

"You had me for a second, and then you lost me again."

"Bread salads. Fattoush in Lebanon or panzanella in Italy."

"Taco salad," Jack put in. "Mmm, tacos."

"Tabbouleh. It's mostly a grain," Daniel offered.

"There's a French one, isn't there?" Cam put in. "Starts with an n."

"Niçoise," Sam spoke up finally. "Lettuce with olives and anchovies."

He made a face. "I'm sorry I mentioned it."

But Teal'c shifted his head. "I believe I would enjoy that."

"Ambrosia salad," she offered softly. "Waldorf. Watergate, with pistachios and whipped cream."

Cam grinned. "Those I can get behind."

"But the Jell-O... For awhile, they seemed to think you could pair anything with Jell-O."

"Aspic," Jack put in. "Ham and gelatin. I think that was the last time we ate at my great aunt's house."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "You know I've eaten a lot of weird foods for culture, but even I might draw the line at that."

Sam nodded. "It wasn't that bad, but my grandmother would bring a dish of lemon Jell-O with pineapple tidbits-"

"That sounds okay," Cam said with a shrug.

"And shredded carrots."

"I take it back."

She nodded. "When she got really fancy, she'd do diced apple and celery."

Glancing up, she found four men staring at her in varying degrees of horror.

"Like I said. I don't like lemon Jell-O." But the dish sitting in front of her was precious, as far as she was concerned. And she probably needed the calories. Grabbing the spoon in shaky hands, she started to eat.