1530

The curtains were back up by the time Jack returned to the infirmary, and he headed straight for Carter's section. She was clearly – and unfortunately – asleep; Teal'c seemed to be meditating in a chair next to her, and Mitchell was eating. Mitchell always seemed to be eating. "Sir."

Daniel glanced up from the ancient book he held. "Hey. Everything okay?"

Carter was still critical and he'd had his ass handed to him by his superiors for staying in Colorado, so... "Yeah," he lied.

His friend saw right through that and made a face. "They're pissed, aren't they?"

He shrugged. "They're always more pissed when I threaten to resign. Can't live with me; can't live without me, I guess. Was she feeling better?"

"Yeah. The nausea patch kicked in pretty quickly, and she fell asleep not long after that. Doctor Lam says it's the anemia. Hey, have you eaten?"

"No. Have you?"

Daniel shook his head.

There was a sudden, distinct lack of motion to Jack's right, and they both turned to see Cameron Mitchell, his fork frozen halfway to his mouth. "Go ahead; I'll stay," he offered.

"No," the general said simply. He'd already been gone for hours, Carter was still on the edge, and his time with her was ticking down. He claimed a chair.

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Cam got to his feet. "Why don't I go get you two something? It's, uh, meatloaf... mashed potatoes..."

"Thanks, Cam."

Jack nodded, too, and SG-1's new leader promptly skedaddled.

"We should be nicer to him," Daniel mused.

"I think I've hit the limit of people I can be nice to," Jack groused back.

An alarm shrieked behind his head, sending him immediately to his feet, and it took a second to realize it was a little further back than Carter's monitors. His stomach flipped anxiously as he tossed back the curtain to where Siler lay.

"Sorry, sir," a technician apologized from the floor, silencing the alarm just in time for half a dozen of the medical staff to rush in. "Sorry. I was disconnecting the remote setup, and I pulled the wrong wire."

"Everything's fine," Doctor Lam announced loudly enough to calm the rest of her patients. "Technical difficulties, here."

Jack stared down at the man, his lips pressed shut, well aware that the next words out of his mouth would be unnecessarily vile, even for him. And the airman seemed to know it, too; he cowered a little. So did the nurses.

Teal'c got gracefully to his feet, took the edge of the divider between his thumb and first finger, and slid it closed just inches in front of his friend's face. Crisis averted, he went back to his meditation.