The soft knock at the door interrupted General Hammond's concentration on the mission briefings in front of him. His attention shifted as Teal'c entered, his imposing figure filling the doorway. It wasn't often that the Jaffa sought out the General in this manner, and when he did, it was always for something of significant importance. Concern stirred in Hammond's chest.

"Teal'c," Hammond greeted, gesturing for him to step in. "What can I do for you?"

"I have something important to discuss, General Hammond," Teal'c replied, entering the office and closing the door quietly behind him.

Setting his pen down, Hammond turned his full focus on the Jaffa. "Go ahead. What's on your mind?"

Teal'c stood rigid, his usual stoicism in place, though there was something different in his demeanor today. Hammond could sense it—a subtle weight to his words, something that made him sit up straighter in his chair.

"I have recently been in conversation with Daniel Jackson regarding the ancient gods of the Tau'ri," Teal'c began. "We sought to identify possible Goa'uld who might have posed as these figures."

Hammond nodded slowly, leaning back as he processed the information. It was routine for SG-1 to explore historical myths for ties to the Goa'uld, but something about Teal'c's tone made this feel different—more serious.

"We discussed many myths," Teal'c continued, his voice measured but heavy. "One such was the story of Zeus and Ganymede."

At the name 'Ganymede', Hammond raised his brows. He searched his memories. While he had never been well-versed in ancient mythology, he'd learned a lot in recent years and of course spent far more time thumbing through books on the most common myths and legends of the great pantheons. Unexpectedly, his job had made that a requirement. The tale of Zeus and Ganymede, a young boy taken to Olympus by the god, often carried uncomfortable connotations when viewed through a modern lens. The significance of the myth wasn't lost on him, and he waited for Teal'c to elaborate.

"I have come to learn," Teal'c said slowly, "that on this world, such relationships are not only dishonored but met with punishment. Tau'ri laws prevent those who love others of the same gender from living openly. This troubles me deeply, General Hammond."

Hammond exhaled, feeling the tension build in the room. This was not the kind of conversation he had expected.

"Teal'c, I understand where you're coming from," Hammond began carefully. "But I don't make the laws. The military—well, it follows certain guidelines, and we have to work within them. My hands are tied when it comes to changing anything at that level."

Never had Hammond suspected a simple head tilt could hold so much disdain. The warrior before him stood tall, his hands behind his back and while he did not approach, the intensity around the large man only deepened. "You say your hands are tied, General Hammond, but I do not believe that is so. You have influence." He turned and gestured to the phone on Hammond's desk. "You command this facility. You speak to those who make decisions. You negotiate with other worlds on behalf of the Tau'ri. You are not without power."

The weight of the jaffa's words settled heavily in the room. "Teal'c, the military has rules we have to follow. I don't have the authority to just change laws, especially ones that go as deep as this. We answer to higher levels of government, and those decisions... well, they're made far above my pay grade."

Teal'c's expression darkened slightly, and Hammond could tell his words were falling flat. "The advanced peoples of this galaxy—those who the Tau'ri wish to trade with, to learn from—do not share these beliefs. The Tollan, the Nox—they honor life in all forms. If they were to learn of these Tau'ri practices, I do not believe they would want to associate with you."

Stepping closer, Teal'c's voice grew more forceful. "You wish to present the Tau'ri as leaders, as allies to these more advanced civilizations. But how will they respect a world that denies its own people their rights? How can you expect the Jaffa to look to Earth as a symbol of freedom if you oppress those who are different?"

Hammond exhaled, keeping his face impassive. He couldn't argue with Teal'c's points—personally, he understood the injustices, having seen them firsthand. His brother-in-law followed this lifestyle and he was one of teh most decent people Hammond knew. And he knew some of his comrades fell in that category. Gods, likely some of the people under his command did as well. They should be able to live how they damned-well pleased. But he wasn't a politician and he knew not everyone agreed with his opinion. One he'd only gained after long years and exprience. It had not been the way he'd been raised. But now he couldn't change things with a snap of his fingers.

"Teal'c, it's not that simple. These things take time, and I'm just—"

Before he could finish, Teal'c stood taller, his voice firm. "The next time I encounter the Tollan or the Nox, I will tell them of these Tau'ri laws. I will explain that on this world, those who love differently are treated as lesser, as unworthy of the same rights as others. And if your government believes these laws are just, then they cannot stop me. For if they stand behind them, they must believe they are right."

Hammond felt his stomach twist. "Teal'c—"

"And if they do not stand behind these laws, then they must change them," Teal'c said, his voice resonating with a deep sense of conviction. "It is an easy choice for those who truly honor life."

Silence settled over the room. Hammond opened his mouth, intending to respond, but found himself at a loss for words. The boldness of Teal'c's statement hung in the air, a challenge that seemed to demand an answer.

Sensing the conversation had reached its natural end, Teal'c inclined his head respectfully. "I leave this decision to you, General Hammond. But know that I will not stay silent."

Without waiting for a reply, Teal'c turned on his heel and walked out, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

Staring at the phone on his desk, Hammond leaned back in his chair, the weight of the conversation lingering in the silence that followed.

The air on P3X-489 was thick, heavier than Earth's but not unmanageable. A faint metallic tang lingered with each breath, a reminder that even breathable atmospheres weren't exactly home. The distant hum of a generator blended with the occasional chirp of alien fauna, underscored by the rhythmic crunch of boots on dirt. Colonel Jack O'Neill adjusted his P90 and let his gaze sweep the horizon. The prefab structures of the base stood in stark contrast to the surrounding wilderness—orange skies streaked with violet clouds, tree lines that looked almost familiar until you noticed the translucent leaves.

"Nothing yet," he muttered into his radio. "Teal'c, any movement on your end?"

"None, O'Neill," Teal'c's calm voice replied. "All remains quiet."

Jack nodded to himself, his gaze flicking toward the distant tree line. No movement. No surprises. For now.

Turning back toward the center of the small, prefab base, he caught sight of Wallace, who had wandered too far from Daniel for the second time in as many hours. Wallace wasn't quite straying into liability territory, but the man had a knack for pushing limits—professionally, socially, and otherwise. And Jack wasn't sure yet whether he liked or hated the guy for it.

"Wallace," Jack called sharply, his voice carrying over the hum of activity.

A lazy grin spread across Wallace's face as he turned, hands held up in mock surrender. "What? Just stretching my legs, Colonel."

Eyes narrowing, Jack responded, "Your legs should stretch no more than twenty feet from Jackson. You're supposed to check in every half hour, not play Marco Polo. Got it?"

"Got it, got it," Wallace replied breezily. "Relax, sir. It's not like we're in the middle of a firefight here."

The urge to pinch the bridge of his nose almost overwhelmed Jack. "That's the point. We're not in a firefight because we stay alert and follow protocols. Now get back to Daniel."

Wallace saluted, the exaggerated gesture earning a roll of Jack's eyes, before he sauntered off toward Daniel. The archeologist, crouched near a weathered stone slab, muttered to himself, notebook open, brow furrowed in concentration. Even without hearing a word, Jack could tell Daniel wasn't pleased. His body language made it clear enough.

Turning back to resume his patrol, fragments of Wallace's conversation with Daniel drifted on the breeze.

"I'm just saying," Wallace's voice carried, "if you looked at the symbols this way, it might speed things up a bit."

The response was clipped. "Thank you, Major, but I think I'll stick to the methods that have worked for the past several decades of archeology."

"Sure, sure," Wallace said, his tone cheerful. "But, you know, sometimes fresh eyes can help to get there faster."

The pencil froze mid-stroke, the hand holding it pausing as the head slowly turned toward the speaker. Then he slowly turned his head to look at Wallace. "Oh, really?" he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I hadn't considered that. Thank you for enlightening me, Major. I'm sure my degrees and decades of experience pale in comparison to your…fresh eyes."

Wallace raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing. "Whoa, easy there, Doc. Just offering some input. Team effort, right?"

There was a beat of silence. "Touchy," Wallace said finally, chuckling. "No wonder Carter's the brains of your team."

Jaw clenched in frustration, the Colonel turned and headed toward the two, the faint crackle of a radio on the vest filling the moment. As the distance closed, the conversation continued, oblivious to the growing tension.

"I mean, must be nice for you guys, right?" Wallace added with a grin. "All guys on this mission. Must be a nice change of pace to you guys. I mean from what I heard, Dr Carter is great, but must be nice to relax without any feminine sensitivities in the mix."

Jack stopped dead in his tracks, head tilted slightly as if he'd misheard. Then, with the same casual demeanor he used when lining up for a golf swing, he strolled over to the group.

"Feminine sensitivities?" Jack asked, his voice light but laced with a sharp undertone. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, fixing Wallace with an unreadable expression. "What exactly do you mean by that, Major?"

Wallace's grin faltered for just a second before he recovered, his casual swagger intact. "Oh, you know, sir. Just… uh… you know, women have certain, uh… things. Emotions and all that. Not in a bad way!" He raised his hands again in mock defense. "I'm just saying it's probably different for you guys. No offense meant."

Arms folded, Daniel leaned back, watching the exchange with open interest. Teal'c, silent as ever, raised an eyebrow and fixed his gaze on Wallace.

Jack squinted at Wallace, leaning in slightly as if trying to decipher a complicated map. "Huh. Emotions. Right. So Carter—who, let's recap, has out-thought alien supercomputers, built MacGyver-esque devices out of literal junk, and saved our butts more times than I can count—is, what, a little too emotional for you?"

"No, no, that's not what I—" Wallace began, looking a bit less sure of himself now. His grin was still there, but it wavered as he shifted on his feet. Wallace laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that, Colonel. Carter's obviously brilliant—I mean, she's a legend. Just, uh, you know, group dynamics and all that. Guys tend to… mesh differently when it's just guys, you know?"

Jack's gaze hardened slightly, though he kept his voice light. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

Hesitating, Wallace glanced at Daniel for backup. He got none. Daniel had crossed his arms and was staring at Wallace with a distinctly unimpressed look. "Well, sir, I just thought—"

"Oh! I get it!" Jack interrupted, snapping his fingers theatrically. "You're talking about the time Carter burst into tears because Teal'c wouldn't share his energy bar. Oh, wait…" He glanced at Teal'c, who quirked an eyebrow in return. "Nope. That never happened."

The major scratched the back of his neck. "Look, I just meant—"

"Or maybe you mean the time she got us through a firefight by crying about… wait, nope, didn't happen either," Jack continued, now pacing slightly. "So, enlighten me, Major, because I'm just not seeing it."

The grin finally vanished from Wallace's face, and he dropped his shoulders, looking sheepish. "I didn't mean it like that, Colonel," he said, his tone quieter now. "It was just… a bad joke, I guess."

Stopping his pacing, Jack turned back. "Yeah, bad jokes happen. But here's the thing: Carter's not here because of a drunk idiot with a car, not because of some made-up 'feminine sensitivities.' She's as much a soldier as the rest of us. More, sometimes."

Wallace nodded, chastened. "Understood, sir. I'll watch it."

"Good," Jack said, his tone lightening. "Now, let's get back to the whole 'team effort' thing, shall we?" He clapped Wallace on the shoulder with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You're new here, Major. You'll catch up." Jack stared him down for a beat longer, then smiled abruptly, his usual easygoing demeanor sliding back into place like a well-worn jacket. "Good. Now let's get back to the mission. No more sociological deep dives into 'group dynamics,' huh? Leave that to Daniel."

A soft snort escaped Daniel, his arms still crossed. Wallace's sheepish smile faltered but held, clearly relieved when Jack turned and walked away. As he retreated, Daniel cast Wallace a pointed look before quietly refocusing on his notes. Teal'c, watching in silence as always, gave Wallace a single, deliberate nod. Whether it was agreement or mere acknowledgment remained unclear, but the effect was the same—Wallace shifted uncomfortably.

With a sigh, Wallace muttered under his breath, "Great start, Wallace. Great start."

The rest of the day passed without much incident, though the air was palpably more subdued. Wallace, now quieter and more careful with his words, stuck close to Daniel, keeping his suggestions to a minimum. Jack made a mental note of the Major's restraint—it was an improvement, but the guy still had a long way to go. Daniel, for his part, had cooled off, burying himself in his work with a kind of pointed focus that kept Wallace at arm's length.

Jack and Teal'c continued their patrol of the perimeter, the rhythmic crunch of their boots a comforting constant. The alien wilderness stretched out around them, its strange beauty both alien and familiar. The translucent leaves of the trees shimmered faintly as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long, golden shadows. A faint breeze carried the sharp tang of metallic minerals and the distant, melodic chirping of alien fauna.

"Anything interesting on your side, T?" Jack asked casually, breaking the silence as they completed another loop.

"Nothing, O'Neill," Teal'c replied, his voice calm and steady. "The area remains secure."

"Figured as much." Jack adjusted his P90, glancing toward the ruins where Daniel and Wallace were still working. "At least it's peaceful. That's nice."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed, though his dark eyes scanned the tree line with unbroken vigilance.

By the time they circled back toward the camp, the sky had deepened to a dusky orange, streaked with ribbons of violet. Jack checked his watch, the numbers glowing faintly in the dim light. Even though the sun was just beginning to set on this planet, it was already nearing 3:30 a.m. back on Earth. He did some quick mental math, calculating the time it would take to wrap things up here, get through the post-mission checkups, and finally make it home for a shower and some sleep.

Jack sighed softly, not entirely unhappy but feeling the weariness settle in. This had been Wallace's first mission with SG-1, and while the guy had potential, he was undeniably green. For a Major, Wallace seemed surprisingly inexperienced, lacking the natural cohesion and unspoken understanding that had defined their team with Carter.

Still, Jack couldn't bring himself to dislike the guy. Wallace had his moments—he was funny in his own way, and he clearly wanted to prove himself. But wanting to fit in and actually fitting in were two very different things. It was going to take time, effort, and maybe a few more hard lessons to whip him into shape.

As they reached the camp, Jack made a decision. They were close enough to the gate, and the ruins weren't going anywhere. "Alright," he said, his voice cutting through the quiet. "Let's call it. We'll pick this up back at the SGC tomorrow."

Their resident jaffa inclined his head in agreement, and Jack keyed his radio. "Daniel, Wallace, pack it up. We're heading back."

A crackle of static was followed by Daniel's voice, tinged with relief. "Alright. I think I need some more references to figure all this out anyways."

Wallace chimed in, his tone much more subdued than earlier. "On it, Colonel."

A smirk tugged at Jack's lips as he watched the two men begin gathering their the small group began making their way back toward the gate, Jack let his thoughts wander. This day, with Wallace tagging along for the first time, had been a strange one. It was going to take some getting used to—a new dynamic, a new rhythm. But as they trudged through the alien wilderness, Jack allowed himself a small, hopeful smile.

SG-1 had faced tougher challenges than breaking in a new teammate. And if Wallace could learn to keep up—or, more importantly, learn when to speak up—then maybe, just maybe, they'd be alright.

"I'm heading out," Wallace called to them, closing his locker.

Jack O'Neill just hummed and started getting dressed. His hair still dripped on his shoulders and he rubbed his towel over it, barely hearing Teal'c and Daniel offer polite good-byes to the other man who'd apparently had some urgent business to take care of at this ungodly hour in the morning. They had just finished the post-mission check up with Dr Fraiser who'd taken the night-shift and thier mission debrief. Despite being physically tired, his mind reeled.

When they had left the planet, it had been a good day, albeit exhausting. He'd felt fine—tired but in a good mood. The mission had gone smoothly enough, despite the newcomer Major Wallace's missteps. He'd even found himself joking with Daniel and Teal'c about the planet's bizarre foliage. Everything had seemed fine, even if Wallace was still a bit of a wildcard.

But then, as they'd walked back through the SGC's hallways, Jack had passed by Carter's room. Just a brief glimpse, but it had hit him like a sucker punch. The thought of her, absent, not part of the team, stirred something in him.

It had been like a switch had flipped. All at once, his thoughts were consumed with memories—of her leadership, her quiet strength, the way she'd always known what to say at the right moment.

And damn it, it felt wrong.

The locker room went quiet again, save for the sounds of rustling gear and the occasional metallic clang of a locker door. Jack O'Neill stood at his locker, his brow furrowed as he tried to shove a bag into place. The latch wasn't catching right, and no matter how he adjusted it, the damn thing wouldn't stay closed.

He grunted, gave it a harder shove, and when it still didn't work, slammed it with a fist. The door bounced open again.

"Come on!" he snapped, his voice louder than he intended.

At the far end of the room, Daniel Jackson paused, his jacket half-off, and looked over. "Uh, Jack?" he asked, cautious. "You good?"

Jack didn't answer immediately. He shoved the bag back in, harder this time, and the door still refused to stay closed. "No, Daniel," he said sharply, his voice rising. "I am not good!"

He stepped back, glared at the locker like it had personally offended him, and then, as if realizing how ridiculous he looked, let out a bitter laugh. "Stupid piece of junk…" he muttered. His laugh faded, and he turned, his expression dark. He sat heavily on the bench, rubbing his face with both hands.

For a moment, Daniel lingered, uncertain. Then, he stepped closer, keeping his voice low. "What's going on?"

Dropping his hands, Jack gave Daniel a flat look. "I don't know, okay? I don't know what the hell's wrong with me." His voice was quieter now, but the frustration still simmered underneath. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

From his place in the corner where his own locker had already been closed, Teal'c spoke for the first time. "You appear troubled, O'Neill."

Jack barked a short laugh. "Yeah, well, you're not wrong there, big guy."

Silence settled between them, heavy and awkward. Daniel opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but before he could, Jack cut him off.

"It's Carter," he blurted, his voice sharp again. He exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. "I can't stop thinking about her. About what happened."

Daniel exchanged a glance with Teal'c but said nothing. He let Jack talk, sensing that pushing wouldn't help.

Rubbing at his face didn't help make Jack feel better. Instead, he started talking again, his voice quieter now, almost a mutter. "She nearly got killed by a damned car. A hit-and-run. Not some Goa'uld or death glider—just a regular, stupid Earth car. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it."

He sat back, staring at the ceiling like he could find answers there. "She's stuck in that hospital, broken to hell, and doped up on so many drugs she's barely making sense half the time."

He hesitated, his jaw working as he struggled with the words. When he finally spoke again, his tone was more subdued. "She kept asking for her left shoe. Apparently, that's the kind of thing you worry about when you're high as a kite. A left shoe, and a missing spoon—something about it being next to the centrifuge. And then she started going on about Daniel getting the wrong chilis or… or something."

Daniel frowned, confused, but Jack wasn't really looking for clarification.

"It was all nonsense," Jack continued, his voice growing rough. It had been almost a week ago. After Carter had woken up for the first time and he'd had the time to stop by for a visit. She'd been making no sense whatsoever and he had not been certain whether Carter had lost it entirely or if it was the drugs. "But then… then she said something else."

Expression unreadable, Teal'c tilted his head while Daniel stayed silent, watching Jack closely.

"She said…" Jack's voice faltered, and he cleared his throat like he was trying to shake off the memory. "She said she was all alone in the dark. That she knew she was dying. And then she said…" He stopped again, staring at the floor.

Finally, he looked up, his expression unreadable but his voice trembling slightly. "She said the stars were laughing at her."

The room went completely still. Even Daniel, who usually had something to say about everything, was silent.

Jack rubbed a hand over his face again, his frustration shifting into something heavier. "I can't get it out of my head," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "The way she said it. Like she was… like she'd already given up. And I wasn't there. None of us were. She was alone."

"She's not alone now," Daniel said after a long pause, his tone quiet but measured. "You know that, right?"

Jack huffed out a breath, not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh. "Yeah, sure. But that doesn't stop it from… sticking. That image. Her saying that." He shook his head, his fingers tapping restlessly against his knee. "It's just… it's messed up."

Calm as ever, Teal'c took a step closer, hands clasped behind his back. "It is understandable, O'Neill, to feel unease when a comrade suffers."

Jack gave him a sideways glance. "Yeah, well, it sucks, T."

The jaffa inclined his head slightly but said no more.

A sigh sounded in the room and Daniel crossed his arms, chewing his lip. "You're not the only one dealing with this, you know."

That had Jack sharply turn to the man. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, I've been having nightmares too," Daniel admitted, his voice steady but matter-of-fact. "About what happened. About her." He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, but his expression betrayed a hint of weariness. "You're not exactly unique in this, Jack."

Again, Jack snorted, though there wasn't much humor in it. "Yeah, well, I'm not exactly thrilled to be part of that club."

"Neither am I," Daniel shot back, his tone dry. "But here we are."

With a heavy exhale, the Colonel leaned back against his locker. "Guess we're all a little screwed up, huh?"

Daniel didn't answer right away. Instead, he glanced at Teal'c, who gave a small nod, and then back at Jack. "Yeah. I guess we are."

The silence returned, but it wasn't as heavy this time. It was a shared silence, the kind that didn't need to be filled. Jack stared at the ceiling again, his thoughts still tangled, but the tension in his shoulders eased just a little.

"Anyway," he muttered after a while, his tone lighter, though still edged with fatigue. "It's just… I don't know. It's a lot."

His team listened. While there was compassion on their faces, it wasn't the one born in pity, in a act of understanding. Teal'c raised his hand and brushed goddamn tears from his face with no attempt of hiding the action. They understood, really truly did. And Carter would too once they got her back in the team.

No, that was wrong: Carter never left the team. She might be lying about and healing but he'd make damn sure their team would not break apart because of this. Wallace was only temporary. They'd integrate him, sure, but that didn't mean they had to boot Carter. She still had all the clearances and it would be good for her to be up-to-date. Damn it, wasn't her promotion set for sometime this week? He'd have to check in with Hammond. She sure deserved it, regardless whether she could pull on her dress blues or not. It shouldn't be postponed because of a her accident.

One more time, Jack rubbed his face, then stood, giving the locker a half-hearted shove. "Stupid thing," he muttered under his breath. It finally latched, and he gave it a small, satisfied grunt.

He slapped the side of his locker for good measure, the door finally latching after what felt like an eternity of frustration. Plasting a smile back on his face, he turned to face Daniel and Teal'c. "Well," he said, clapping his hands together as if dusting them off, "since we're all clearly drowning in the joys of downtime, what do you say we hit the road? Grab some fishing poles, a cooler, and head up to my cabin for a little R&R. No fish involved, of course."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Jack, you've been inviting us to that cabin since… I don't know, forever? And no one's ever actually gone."

"It's tradition," Jack replied, grinning. "You say no, I keep asking. Builds camaraderie."

Daniel rolled his eyes but then, to Jack's surprise, muttered, "Fine. Sure. Why not?"

Mid-grin, Jack froze. "Wait… what?"

"I said fine," Daniel repeated, sounding more resigned than enthusiastic. "I could use the break. And Teal'c probably has no idea how to handle a fishing pole. It'll be a learning experience."

Teal'c inclined his head. "Indeed. I will accompany you, O'Neill."

For a moment, Jack just stared at them, trying to process the fact that they'd actually agreed. Then his grin widened into something real, something bordering on incredulous. "Well, I'll be damned. You're both coming. This is amazing."

"Don't get used to it," Daniel quipped, already moving toward the exit.

Jack chuckled but then sobered slightly, glancing back at Teal'c and Daniel. "One thing first," he said. "I wanna check on Carter before we head out. Shouldn't take long."

Neither of them protested. They followed Jack through the maze of hallways, their civilian clothes drawing a few curious looks as they passed other personnel. It was a rare sight to see SG-1 out of uniform and not in the field.

When they reached the infirmary, Janet Fraiser was at Carter's bedside, her head bent over a chart as she meticulously reviewed her patient's medication schedule. Sam was out cold, her breathing steady and her face pale but peaceful. The beeping of the heart monitor filled the room, a steady rhythm that contrasted with the unease Jack always felt when he saw her like this.

Fraiser glanced up as they entered, arching a brow at the sight of them. "Colonel," she greeted, her tone half-curious, half-warning. "Something I can help you with?"

"Nah," Jack said, stepping closer, "just checking in on Carter before we head out for some manly bonding time at the lake."

Fraiser's expression softened slightly. "She's stable, Colonel. Deep asleep, and that's exactly where she needs to stay for now."

Carter was so still, so different from the bright-eyed woman he was used to. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels before clearing his throat.

"Hey, Carter," he said quietly. "Just wanted to let you know, we're heading out for a little fishing trip. Don't worry, though—we'll be back by tomorrow morning. So, uh… you just keep being good for Doc Fraiser here. Don't go hemorrhaging or anything."

Almost frantic, Fraiser's head snapped up at that, alarm flashing across her face. "If she starts hemorrhaging, we've got much bigger problems, Colonel."

Jack winced. "Okay, poor choice of words. Just… you know, stay stable, Carter."

Carter, of course, didn't respond. She was far too deep in the drug-induced sleep Fraiser had assured them was necessary for her recovery. Running his tongue over his teeth, Jack stayed a moment longer before it started becoming weird. So he straightened, giving her one last look before turning back to Fraiser.

"You've got this, Doc?" he asked, his tone more serious.

Fraiser nodded firmly. "I do. Go. Get some rest yourselves. I'll call if there's any change."

It did reassure him. The doc must be reaping in overtime hours by the dozens but she'd been at base nearly non-stop since the accident. Cassie had been staying at a friend's place and luckily school kept the young teenager distracted. "Alright. Thanks, Doc."

With that, he left and Teal'c and Daniel followed him with their own quiet words of good-bye to the unconscious woman. It was time for some R&R. They all needed it, apparently.

Please review!

What's your impression on Wallace's first mission?