• WARNINGS: Chances are I botched up some medical stuff. Sorry.
• SPOILERS: Major for Upgrades
• SUMMARY: What if the Atenik virus didn't just go poof and disappear?
• PG [A] [M]

"You're kidding, right? Two days? We just saved the universe from Apophis *again* and we only get two days off?" Jack groaned in disgust.

"That's right, Colonel. I don't think I need to remind you that your recent actions were against my direct orders, do I?" Hammond questioned, clearly not seeking a response.

Jack folded over and pressed his head down on the conference table. He felt terrible. His muscles quivered nonstop, head throbbed mercilessly and he was dog-tired. Those damn armbands had been more trouble than they were worth. Drug and alcohol detoxification had nothing on his current misery, he was positive. Oh, yeah, he knew all about detox.

"Doctor Fraiser and Anise both agree these symptoms should disappear within forty-eight hours. I expect you all back here on Monday morning. You're dismissed," Hammond said rather abruptly and started leaving the room.

Jack twisted his head and peered out from the cradle of his arms, watching the general make his exit. They'd really crossed the line this time, and Hammond was seriously displeased. Everything from tone of voice to body language spoke of displeasure. Sure, his commanding officer had *said* he understood the adverse effects the Atenik armbands had on him, Carter and Daniel, but he was still disappointed in them. Hell, Jack was disappointed in himself.

He buried his face in the dark again, wretched in both body and spirit. Wishing the events of the past few days could be erased from existence, stricken from any official or non-official record, Jack moaned softly. He could feel three pair of eyes boring holes into the top of his head and he knew he had to face up to his team. Hell, two of them should share in his shame. He couldn't be the only one feeling remorse for his actions. Even if he was, technically speaking, the big macho leader of the pack. He slowly raised his head and straightened in his chair. Daniel sat across from him looking morose, while Carter drooped next to him. Ramrod stiff, Teal'c eyed all of them with his usual raised eyebrow.

"Two days?" he whispered again. He couldn't get over that. He so needed a vacation and two days just wasn't going to cut it. Judging from how his body felt, the weekend was going to be spent in bed. What a waste.

"Yes, Colonel. Two days," Fraiser confirmed his rhetorical question as she breezed into the briefing room. "I just spoke with General Hammond and he's arranging rides for you all. I don't want you driving anywhere. Actually, I don't even want you to leave the base, but the general insisted."

Hammond probably couldn't stand the sight of them right now.

"No driving? Hope he knows I'm going to be putting any cab fares I rack up on my next expense report," Jack joked.

Jack took a quick look at his teammates, trying to further assess their conditions. God, if he looked even half as bad as they looked...Carter's skin was waxy and sallow, enhanced by huge dark circles shadowing her eyes. Her normally healthy glow was absent and she appeared frail and shaky. Daniel looked as though he was suffering from the worst hangover in the world, squinting as if to block out some of the offensive fluorescent lighting. He noted the younger man's hand shaking minutely when he reached for his glass of water.

He sighed in resignation, stood and headed for the door. Jack knew he should be grateful for even being allowed off base. If the doc said two days was all they got, then two days would have to do. The doc and that damn Tok'ra supermodel scientist wannabe had to be right about the effects of the armbands.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, he couldn't let go of the feeling that they weren't.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam stood in her bathroom, gazing at the reflection looking back at her. Nothing or no one had prepared her for the self-loathing she was feeling regarding her actions while under the influence of the Atenik devices. She cringed as she remembered how powerful and invincible she had felt, a feeling she hadn't wanted to give up. Sam craved it even now and that was the true cause for her disgust. She was a member of the Air Force and should never have allowed herself to become dependent on any foreign substances. Just the disillusioned look in General Hammond's eyes had been enough to put red in her cheeks.

And yet, it was there - the desire for power and for the abilities the armbands had accentuated. It was all so far from her reach now. The mirrored image mocked her in complete contrast to the thrill and strength she'd had twenty-four hours earlier. To think just a few short years ago she'd been righteous enough to berate Daniel for becoming addicted to the effects of the sarcophagus. Funny how none of them thought about how similar their behavior was to when Daniel was acting all high and mighty.

She looked horrible no matter how many ways she moved her head around for 'better lighting'. Sam was starting to have doubts about Janet's all-clear in regards to SG-1's health. If anything, she felt worse now than she had yesterday when she first left the base, and she had felt pretty lousy then. Worse than she would have admitted at the time, so happy was she to escape the let down stares from not only the general, but Janet and Teal'c as well. She sighed as she realized her own expression now resembled what she had seen in her friends' eyes yesterday. Only hers was additionally flavored with illness.

She had a sudden impulse to get ahold of the colonel and Daniel, to see how they might be doing. Maybe she was just a wimp and they were fine. Forging a slow and unsteady path back into her bedroom, Sam made for the phone on her nightstand. By the time she reached her bed, she was out of breath and gasping for air. She closed her eyes and tilted herself sideways to lean her cheek on the headboard. God, it felt like she was suffering from some super strain of the flu. Her muscles were weak and uncooperative. She was convinced something was so not right. There was no way she was that big of a pansy.

She fumbled for the phone, thankful to snatch it up on the first attempt. She hit the speed dial set for the colonel and listened while the phone rang again and again and again. It became rather mesmerizing, lulling her into a semi-trance. She was startled out of it when his weak voice finally answered.

"H-hello?"

"Sir?" Sam said. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry."

"No, not sleeping. Did you want something, Carter?" the colonel asked.

"I just wanted to see how you were feeling."

"You want the truth? I feel awful. Haven't been able to get out of bed all day, in fact."

Sam was relieved to hear his answer. At least she wasn't alone in her wretchedness. Janet had warned them they may feel a bit strung out, but she had been concerned at just how bad she felt. To know that the colonel was also suffering was a strange blessing. Even as she was thinking these things, Sam couldn't help but be worried at the colonel's almost frail-sounding voice.

"Sir, are you really all right? I mean, you sound a little worse for wear."

"I could say the same to you, Carter. Let's just say I am remembering what an ass I made of myself and on top of the physical symptoms of coming down off of those armbands, that makes for a heavy burden," he said.

Sam winced. The colonel never opened up to her this much under regular circumstances, but any comfort she might have taken from the sharing was negligible in light of the fact that he *had* to be feeling like he was on death's door to admit half as much as he just had. As much as she would like him to open up more to her, it wasn't his style.

She sighed unhappily, agreeing with him, "Yeah, it does, doesn't it? Have you spoken with Daniel at all?"

"No. You're lucky you got me to answer the phone. I haven't picked it up to make any calls myself," the colonel snapped, irritation sounding through along with the obvious exhaustion in his tone.

"Well, I'm going to call him. I might go over to his place, too. I don't know. I just don't feel like being alone right now." She hoped the colonel would pick up on her hint. She thought they all could use each other's company, to commiserate and all.

"Do that, Carter. If he's up to it, give me a call back, will ya?" Relieved by his reluctant participation, Sam thought she heard concern creeping into his tone. Curiosity, certainly. "I wouldn't mind some company myself."

Oh, boy. That was as close to confession of worry and/or illness she was likely going to get. It was enough. She couldn't help but smile as a less-than-gentle phone slamming down in her ear abruptly severed the connection. My, my the colonel was quite the charmer. She smiled grimly and disconnected her own line, immediately clicking it back on to dial Daniel. There was no doubt in her mind that the archaeologist would welcome the company. Her smile faded as the phone rang and rang. This time there was no voice answering on the other end and no voicemail picking up. No peace of mind for her.

Worry dogged at her that she tried ineffectively to calm. Daniel could just be sleeping really heavily, oblivious to the world around him. He was known to do that all the time. She disconnected and redialed him again. The ritual was repeated several times, constant ringing, no picking up. Damn, it usually only took her twice to break through his sleep barrier. Worry notched up a level and turned into fear. She rang the colonel again.

"Hello," her CO's voice grumbled, not quite as disoriented as before.

"Colonel, Daniel's not answering his phone." Sam was panicking and she knew it, but she couldn't keep herself from being frantic on the inside. And the outside. "I think there's something wrong. He usually picks up after a couple of tries and he didn't this time."

"Carter, calm down. I'll call a cab and swing by your place. We'll go check on him, even though I'm sure he's fine." The colonel sounded as though he was trying to assure himself as well as her. He was gruff and agitated.

"Okay. I'll be waiting," Sam whispered.

An intense cold weaved its way through her veins, shadows chasing away the light. Sweat erupted on her forehead and upper lip, coming from out of nowhere and she was distinctly nauseous. She recognized the signs. Now was not a good time to pass out. Not at all. Gray fuzz seemed to distort her vision. She couldn't see the bed, though she knew it was only a few steps away. She lowered her hand, which was made heavier by the phone, and took a step. Her limbs shook like saplings in a tornado. The phone fell from her fingers. Sam heard it clatter to the ground and then she was following it down.

~~~~~~~~~~

What the hell was that obnoxious noise? It buzzed like a saw, relentlessly invading his throbbing head. Daniel wanted to scream out for it to shut up, as ridiculous as that was. Instead, he shoved a pillow on top of his head to muffle the ruckus. He willed the feather down to block out the irritating sound.

To his surprise, the buzzing ceased as if graciously meeting his needs. Suddenly feeling the air closing in on him, suffocating and heavy, Daniel flipped the pillow from his face. He sucked in air too fast, coughing when the chill hit his lungs. God, he felt terrible. This feeling was far too similar to the withdrawal he had undergone after the sarcophagus addiction. He shuddered at the memory, the pain from that imprinted like a tattoo in his mind. He had hoped never to experience anything like that again, but here he was, weaker than a newborn. Just like then.

No, this *was* different. Then the pain had ripped into him, causing muscles to spasm and contract. The agony was indescribable. Now, though, he just felt sick. Nausea was a constant companion, cold sweats a frequent visitor and loss of motor control were becoming more common as the minutes ticked by. This was definitely different, but just as scary. He'd had people around him then. He wouldn't turn people away now.

Phone...where was the phone? He had a sudden need to call Jack and Sam, though he wasn't sure if it was for companionship or for someone to join his misery party, because everyone knows misery loves company. Huh. Both reasons seemed to really be one and the same. Flipping over onto his back, Daniel looked for his cordless phone again. He'd searched far and wide for it earlier, with no happy result. Obviously or he'd be talking to one of his friends already. He buried his face into his pillow again, muffling the strained laughter as he forced himself to be honest: yeah, he'd looked for it all right.

From his horizontal position on the bed, unable or unwilling to move from its semi-safe haven.

He now remembered taking the handset out of the room yesterday, too exhausted to want to deal with callers. His friends had the tendency to call repeatedly when he didn't answer, knowing that when he was on world he sometimes crashed and was hard to wake. The logical thing for him to have done was simply turn the phone *off* rather than remove it...but he apparently hadn't been thinking clearly.

The buzzing noise came back and it was more insistent than ever. It shot spikes right down Daniel's spine. What the hell was that? Head throbbing, he stumbled off the bed to locate the cause for his wretchedness. He half crawled, half walked to his bedroom door, reaching it barely in time to stop himself from falling. Whoa. Clutching the doorframe, he finally realized what the noise was. His phone. He staggered drunkenly through his living room, stubbing a bare toe on the couch. Cursing, he tried to grab the wounded appendage. Balance not being his forte even while not suffering from muscle spasms and embarrassing weakness, he tumbled to the floor and landed in a graceless heap with his chest heaving.

The cold sweat once again trickled down his back, followed closely by body-wracking shivers. Daniel clenched his jaw tightly to stop his teeth from chattering. God, this was sheer hell. He again thought of Sam and Jack, wondering how they were doing. Call them? They had to be better than he was; he scoffed at his frailty. He had been the last to get his armband, and the first to lose it. How discomforting.

"Wuss, wuss, wuss," the voices chanted in his head. God, even with the armbands he had been weaker than Jack and Sam. Sam, for Pete's sake. He wasn't a chauvinist, but it bothered him that a woman had more lasting strength than he had. Huh. Maybe he *was* a sexist. Whatever the ruling on that, the bitterness now hit him so hard that he knew it was merely a residual effect of the alien device. Self-pity always was the hardest hitter when it came to withdrawal from addictive substances.

He had to stop thinking about his weakness. Maybe that would prevent it from escalating. He had to reach the phone, he reminded himself. The cordless was probably dead and he was thankful his pounding head wasn't being attacked by dual bells. The shrill tone cut off mid-ring, leaving him drowning in the silence of the apartment. Turning onto his stomach, he pushed himself up with trembling arms. He forced them to lock and brought his legs up. He gave up on trying to walk - it was simply too tiring. Crawling he could manage. So, crawling like a baby is what he did. Shaking violently, Daniel wondered how such a short trip could take so long, when his head smacked into the island in the dining area. He clutched at the wood, willing himself off his hands and onto his knees only. Almost there. Just a bit....

He stretched his arms across the counter and felt his fingers connect heavily with the phone, sending it falling to the floor. He heard it chime as it hit and then he was sliding down the length of the cabinet. It no longer mattered that he was supposed to call someone...Jack?...Sam?...the only thing that mattered was sleep.

Darkness beckoned him and he went to it gladly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jack couldn't stem the apprehensive feeling Carter's call had initiated. It *wasn't* like Daniel to not answer his phone and, being as they were all off cars for a while, he knew the archaeologist had to be home. Not even Daniel would dare defy Fraiser's instructions and leave his apartment. Especially not if the younger man felt as crappy as he himself did at the moment. He tentatively lifted and made a half-hearted attempt to replace his phone. It landed a good three inches short of the mark, but he found himself not caring at all. He couldn't remember if he'd hung it up or not. If not, anyone calling him would be out of luck. He wouldn't be here anyway. He *was* going to defy the good doctor. Concern for his team took precedence over covering his own ass, literally as the case might be. Fraiser had a penchant for needles.

He sat up and watched the bedroom spin around him. Or maybe it was him spinning? First one foot, then the other contacted the cold floor. Damnit, he needed the phone back to call a cab. As he tried to stand, his legs demonstrated just how unwilling they were to cooperate by turning to mush. He clutched at his night table, barely able to maintain a kneeling position as his suddenly thick fingers clawed at the phone. Dialing 4-1-1 had never been so difficult, but he managed to get through and had the lucky operator help him track down the nearest cab company. By the time he was put through, he was already spent.

"Yellow Cab, area code and phone number, please," a dispatcher said.

"Yeah, I, uh, need a taxi as soon as possible." Jack could hear his own, slurred voice and randomly hoped the cab company didn't think he was drunk. Not that it mattered. He attempted to infuse some authority into his tone. He didn't think it worked. "Right away."

"I need your area code and phone number, sir."

He rattled off his number and address, then dropped the phone without confirmation. He had bigger things to worry about. Like dressing. A quick perusal of his attire mad him decide he probably should change but was going to just stay in his pajama bottoms and T-shirt anyway. He'd just throw on a sweatshirt or something. What did it matter if all he was going to do was pick up Carter and go to Daniel's? Both of them had seen him in much worse. Besides, he really didn't think he was capable of the effort of undressing and redressing at this point.

He staggered to his dresser and tugged out one of his Minnesota Wild sweatshirts. He wrestled it over his head. It took his all of his flagging strength and he had to creep back toward his bed to sit down. Halfway there, the ring of his doorbell sounded, reverberating through his head. Groaning, he switched direction and made his way to the front door. Everything wavered before his eyes, causing him to stumble over several pieces of furniture. Finally, the big door loomed before him. He weakly pulled it open, wondering if it was possible for inanimate objects to suddenly gain mass. An impatient, overweight cabbie stood at the door, sucking on a cigarette and scowling at him.

"Don't usually come to the door. You're lucky I'm feeling generous."

Jack winced, both from the abrasive tone of the driver and the sunshine bombarding his retinas. He fumbled for his shades and keys, not bothering to give a response. He poked himself in the eye with one of the bows, inducing tears. He cursed under his breath and finally managed to put the sunglasses on. Ignoring the driver, he inched down the sidewalk for the vehicle waiting at the curb.

"You do know you're barefoot, right?" the man scoffed as he passed Jack, heading for the passenger door and holding it open. "Suppose you don't care too much right now, eh, buddy?"

He looked down at his feet and realized the driver was right. He curled his bare toes self-consciously. It was too much work to go back for shoes now. The twenty foot sidewalk might as well have been a mile. Jack returned his gaze to the cabbie, saying with as much dignity as he could muster, "It doesn't matter. Just take me to 1707 Rosewood Lane."

"You got it, bud. Back to home or back to the scene of the crime?"

"Checking on a friend." Jack was never so happy to feel the soft cushion of the back seat of a taxi. He sank into it, eyes closing as he leaned his head back. "Had a rough night."

"Yeah, I can see that. Don't worry, good ol' Stu will get you there. Let me know if you're going to ralph, though. It takes weeks to get the stink out," Stu said, slamming the door and climbing behind the wheel.

His stomach heaved at the mere mention of vomiting and cold sweat returned. He was unable to stifle a weak moan as he tried to swallow his nausea If he had his eyes open, he knew the world would once again be spinning, even sitting down. The signs were telltale – he was going to pass out. Too bad he couldn't do anything about it.

"Hey, you okay back there? Sleeping? Damn drunks. Guess I'll have to wake him when we get there. Shit, I bet he doesn't even have any money. Buddy, you'd better be planning on paying me."

Stu's muttering registered on the edge of consciousness, though he couldn't build enough energy to refute the words. He tried to open his eyes and lift his head, but felt even those functions slipping away. Giving in, Jack slumped down and let the darkness of unconsciousness take full control.

~~~~~~~~~~

Teal'c admitted to himself that a couple of days ago he had felt a slight smugness at being the only member of SG-1 to not receive any reprimand from General Hammond. Having his three friends confined to their homes for the entire weekend granted him much time to reconsider that stance. The corridors of the SGC seemed abnormally quiet without their presence. Even when on stand down, they were renowned for being on base instead of at their homes. He had felt the division from them very intensely while they were undergoing the Tok'ra experiment and rather than the gap lessening now the tests were over, it felt as thought it were growing.

He suddenly felt the need to be close to his friends. Their homes were frequent retreats when the confines of Cheyenne Mountain became too oppressive even for him. One of them would offer their home to him, glad to have him as a guest for one or two nights. Teal'c exited his quarters and made his way to the infirmary, knowing Doctor Fraiser's shift would soon be over. He hoped that perhaps she would be willing to take him off base. O'Neill's home was the largest, he had spent the most time there and the other man would be the least surprised by an impromptu visit; also, it would not appear out of the ordinary for him to appear at O'Neill's doorstep uninvited, thus not revealing his loneliness. Calling ahead would be courteous, but doing so brought the risk of being told not to make the journey. He knew he had been unsubtle in his amused haughtiness with all three of his human friends and they likely would not wish to see him. That was, as O'Neill might say, most unfortunate.

When he walked through the door, he found the infirmary was unusually quiet. All of the beds were unoccupied. He located Doctor Fraiser in her office, her head resting on crossed arms and sprawling across the top of her desk. She had been extremely agitated throughout the course of Anise's experiment, and he believed she had not had the reprieve of a day off in quite some time. Teal'c felt a spark of sympathy for the doctor, turning to leave her to her moment of relaxation.

"What can I do for you, Teal'c?" her muffled voice halted him.

Teal'c pivoted around. Doctor Fraiser was lifting her head to look in his direction. He cocked an eyebrow with concern. She did indeed appear exhausted, uncustomary dark circles beneath her eyes. He glanced at the clock on her wall, noting she had but five minutes remaining on duty.

"I had hoped you would be willing to take me off base. I would like to venture to O'Neill's house to ensure he is well. I may also wish to become his houseguest."

"You miss them too?" Doctor Fraiser asked.

Teal'c shifted his head to one side. It both warmed and disturbed him that she was able to decipher his feelings so readily. He found he was growing more tolerant of the Tau'ri tendency to openly express emotions, even relaxing himself in that regard. His Jaffa training still occasionally balked at the perceived weakness of revealing feelings for the rest of the world to see.

"It is kind of quiet around here, I'll give you that. Doctor Warner should be here any minute; I'd be happy to take you."

"Thank you, Doctor Fraiser."

"You know, I've been reviewing Anise's data regarding the Ateniks and those armbands..." she began. She then trailed off with an indistinct expression flitting across her face.

"Have you found something about which we should be concerned?" he prompted, his own unease stirring at the vague concern he now read in her features. Logic told him that both of them were overreacting, letting their imaginations conjure up worst-case scenarios in the form of unfounded feelings, which seemed, however, very real.

"No, not really." She sighed, reaching around the back of her head to release her hair. With a headshake, it cascaded to frame her face, which was marred by a slight frown. "Just have an off feeling. I'm sure it's nothing."

It had been his past experience that if Doctor Fraiser had an inclination something was amiss, her suspicion was well founded. His primta agreed, flipping around his belly in a most distressing manner. Now more than ever he felt the need to determine if his friends were well. His physical reaction served to increase his uneasy feeling. Fortunately, they did not have to wait long for Doctor Warner to make his appearance. The SGC's secondary medical officer entered the office within minutes.

"Looks pleasantly empty in here."

"It is. In fact, I've got nothing to apprise you of for a change. With only SG-6 and SG-10 on planets even remotely dangerous, I don't expect you'll see much activity either," Doctor Fraiser said. She hung up her white coat and looked at Doctor Warner. "As always, call my cell if there's an emergency."

"Of course. Have a good afternoon and evening."

"You too."

Doctor Fraiser moved from the office quickly. Teal'c did not linger far behind. He was surprised to see she did not appear to be traveling to the locker room to don her civilian clothing. He realized his distraction was greater than he had thought - he himself had forgotten to clothe himself properly for leaving the base. He placed a hand upon her forearm as she raised it to swipe her card for etrieval of the elevator.

"Doctor Fraiser, I require a moment in my quarters. I must find something to wear upon my head before I will be allowed to leave the SGC."

"Oh, right," she murmured, her face flushing a bit. She ran her card through the reader. "I'm sorry. I'm not usually this flighty."

"It is all right. I, too, am feeling strangely apprehensive." That much was manifest - he never would have normally left his quarters with the express purpose of departing the SGC without suitable attire.

The doctor looked taken aback by his admission, apparently unaware of what he considered to be blatant evidence of his distraction. The elevator door slid open and two SFs exited. He nodded to Doctor Fraiser and guided her through the opening. They rode without speaking, stopping for a short time only at Teal'c's quarters to retrieve the needed headgear and, as an afterthought, he pocketed the key ring O'Neill had given him.

They remained silent as they finally made their way to the surface. He found himself very comfortable with the quietude, as Doctor Fraiser's companionship was such as to not require vocalization under normal circumstances. With the increasing concern eating at both of them, conversation would only have served as a reminder of their agitation. They reached the surface and maneuvered through the checkpoints at last and approached her small car. Teal'c moved to the passenger side.

"Don't forget to adjust the seat before you get in," Doctor Fraiser told him.

He would never forget that particular task, having hit his knees quite hard on the dashboard on several occasions. He much preferred riding in O'Neill's truck, but admitted her car handled much more smoothly. It was comparable to comparing a glider to a cumbersome teltac. Said glider made a rapid exit once both passenger and driver were situated. Doctor Fraiser chose what Teal'c knew to be the fastest route to O'Neill's house. It occurred to him they could easily go to either Major Carter or Daniel Jackson's home as well, though O'Neill's was nearest to the SGC.

"Well, I have to say I'm getting a little carried away with worry. Imagination is a dangerous thing sometimes. Here." Doctor Fraiser threw him her cell phone. "Do me a favor and call the colonel. He'll probably answer and yell at us for disturbing the last few hours of his time off but I'll feel better anyway."

"That would indeed be an unwelcome occurrence," Teal'c agreed, hoping she understood he was not entirely serious.

He dialed the cell phone and lifted it to his ear. It rang and rang, each tone echoing more loudly in his head than the one before it. He knew after the fourth ring that O'Neill was not going to pick up. Frowning, he punched another set of numbers, telling Doctor Fraiser at the same time, "O'Neill does not answer. I will attempt Daniel Jackson. It is possible they sought each other's company."

Daniel Jackson's telephone indicated a busy signal. Teal'c was relieved to know his friend was apparently well and was conversing with someone. On impulse, he decided to also ring Major Carter, frown returning with an accompanying jaw twitch when she did not answer her telephone either. Two of his three teammates were not responding, which did not necessarily predicate that their situations were unfavorable. Perhaps both O'Neill and Major Carter decided to travel to Daniel Jackson's apartment. If that was so, then to whom was the archaeologist speaking on his telephone?

"No one?" Doctor Fraiser's worried voice disturbed his thoughts. Teal'c glanced over and shook his head once. She returned her gaze to the road and clenched the steering wheel more tightly. "Oh."

He noted their speed increased upon his revelation and he approved of that action. Teal'c could not ascertain a logical reason, but he was positive when they arrived at O'Neill's house they would not find good news.

~~~~~~~~~~

Janet chewed on the cuticles of her left fingers, steering the car only with her right. Teal'c's attempted phone calls had heightened her agitation regarding the three human members of SG-1. Call it woman's or physician's intuition, she just had a sick feeling in her entire body about what the lack of response might imply. Might, she reminded herself. Might wasn't proof positive. Her right foot inched down on the accelerator, anyway, and the need to reach Colonel O'Neill's house as soon as possible didn't dissipate. She was sickened to think about what they might find.

She mentally replayed the displeasure she had felt when Anise was conducting her all important experiment on *her* patients...damnit, her friends. She had known then that it hadn't been a good idea but hadn't been able to put a stop to it, and that was what bothered her the most. It stuck in her gut that she'd had to sit by while Sam, Daniel and the colonel's bodies quite frankly turned against them. She knew she shouldn't have caved and let them off base after their return from blowing up Apophis' ship, but had succumbed to irritation with their adolescent behavior. Stupid. If it turned out there was something wrong with them now, she knew she had no one to blame but herself.

"Doctor Fraiser, we approach O'Neill's house. Should we not decelerate?" Teal'c's calm and deep voice called.

Startled, she pulled herself out of her needless self-condemning thoughts. The colonel was going to be home - he was just sleeping and didn't hear the phone ringing. Janet shook her head; she was being placating to her own inner self. As she pulled the car into the empty driveway, she noted all of the lights were off. Dusk was falling all around them, and there should be a light or two on.

"Doesn't look like he's home."

"O'Neill could be asleep."

"God, I hope so," she muttered, putting the car in park and switching it off. Teal'c nearly launched himself out his side. She managed to keep pretty close pace with him as he strode up the long sidewalk. "Teal'c! Wait for me."

The Jaffa slowed his pace, allowing her to take up position next to him. Almost as one, they jaunted up the steps and stood before the big front door. Teal'c rang the doorbell, and they waited for a good while, receiving no answer. Janet hoped her theory of the colonel being in a deep sleep was in fact the truth. The alarm bells in the back of her mind now tolled at full blare, though. Impatiently, she raised her fist and pounded several times.

"Colonel O'Neill? Colonel, are you in there?"

"O'Neill has given me a key, Doctor Fraiser, for safekeeping. Daniel Jackson has on several occasions left the SGC without his and O'Neill thought it best if he, Daniel Jackson and Major Carter each kept a spare with me," Teal'c rumbled, a hand reaching into his pocket.

"Well, what are you standing there for?" Janet said, wincing at the desperation in her tone. She was quickly losing her professional cool. Luckily, if she were going to do that in front of anyone, Teal'c would be her first choice. There was something very comforting about his presence. And his reticence. "Open the door!"

"I believe that to be the proper course of action as well." Janet shifted her weight from right to left foot as Teal'c slid the key into the door, uttering something in Goa'uld under his breath when it jarred open before he unlocked it. Whatever he'd said, she couldn't agree more. The colonel would only leave his door open if he was expecting company, which he wasn't. Teal'c raised a cautionary hand, silently telling her to remain where she was. He eased the door open just enough to let himself into the house, leaving her standing on the small porch area alone. Unconsciously, she raised her left hand to chew on her fingernails again as she waited for what seemed like endless minutes.

She fixed her attention on the crack of darkness the open door created, watching for movement. At last Teal'c returned with an expression on his face even more grim than before. The mere fact she could discern a change in his countenance told her the situation was serious. Images of the colonel injured or even dead sprang up, courtesy of an overactive imagination. At least she hoped it was only her imagination.

"What? Teal'c, what's going on? Is he okay?"

"O'Neill is not here."

"Okay...so maybe he went over to Daniel's? I don't suppose you'd turn down a ride across town to check it out?"

"I would not."

"Do you still have my phone? Maybe you should try Daniel's place again."

"It remains in your car, Doctor Fraiser."

"Well then, let's go."

Janet cast a final look into the dark and empty house before Teal'c shut the door tightly and ensured it was locked. With anyone else, Janet might have succumbed to nervous chatter, but as they rapidly made their way back to the car, they remained silent. Those persistent negative images reasserted themselves in her mind, now broadening to include Sam and Daniel as well as Colonel O'Neill. As they neared the vehicle, Teal'c sped up, racing to the passenger side and throwing the door open. It took her a moment to realize her phone was ringing and he was reaching to pick it up. She had a brief flash of hope that it was one of their wayward friends before she thought it more than likely was Doctor Warner. She cursed the timing, and a second later felt guilty for doing so.

"Doctor Fraiser's cellular telephone," Teal'c said. He paused for a minute, the lines on his forehead deepening. "I see. We are at O'Neill's home at the moment, General Hammond. He is not here. Yes."

Teal'c ceased speaking and mutely handed her the cell phone, a perturbed look darkening his eyes. She blinked at him as she lifted the receiver to her ear, not entirely sure she was ready to learn what the general was calling about.

"General Hammond?"

"Doctor Fraiser. Has Teal'c told you anything?" the general said.

"No." She shook her head as if he'd be able to see her. "But I'm guessing it's nothing good, sir?"

"That would be a correct assumption, Doctor. We've just received a message from the To... our allies. Apparently Anise has uncovered some rather important information regarding the data SG-1 helped them gather a couple of days ago. She wouldn't relay it over the radio, insisting on delivering her message face to face."

"Sir, the colonel's not here. I'm worried about all of SG-1 and this only exacerbates my concern. Before you ask, no, I don't have any medical evidence to back up my - "

Janet chewed on her lower lip, easily reading nothing good at all in the general's cloaked comments. If it merited a Tok'ra return trip to Earth, she figured it was bad news. Never mind the fact General Hammond independently arrived at his worried state; she hadn't told him where she and Teal'c were going and why and she was pretty sure Teal'c hadn't either.

"Doctor, there's no need to explain. I'm having SG-9 go to the homes of Major Carter and Doctor Jackson, since they are not responding to their telephones. Seeing as you're already at Colonel O'Neill's house, I'll have them skip that stop. I can only hope he's with one of the others. I want you and Teal'c back at the SGC immediately. Anise will arrive shortly."

"Yes, sir. We'll be there as soon as we can."

She clicked off the phone and looked bleakly at Teal'c. Instant weariness set upon her body and mind at the likelihood that their horrible suspicions were about to be confirmed. Janet felt anything but benevolent toward the Tok'ra scientist and her methods. The last thing she wanted was to have extensive dealings with Anise. She'd rather trust her own skills to figure out what had happened. Of course, she had no idea if anything at all had actually happened. She was giving herself a headache.

"The general wants us back at the mountain," she told Teal'c, sliding again into the driver's seat.

"Indeed."

Janet had the car in reverse and out of the driveway before Teal'c could even shut his door.

~~~~~~~~~~

General George Hammond stared at the phone, worry eating through his stomach. Worry and guilt. Doctor Fraiser had initially been very uncertain about his decision to send SG-1 home, but he had overridden her by forcing her to admit there was nothing wrong with them. And reminding her of their adolescent behavior, he admitted to himself shamefully. It was a foolish mistake, spawned by his irritation with the behavior of the human members of his top team. The doctor's concern had been very apparent in her tone. If he had learned anything on this command, it was to trust his CMO's instinct. Whatever Anise had to tell them, he didn't hold out hope that it was positive news. With SG-1, it so rarely was. He suspected he was about to find out that Janet had been right about the armbands all along.

He disconnected the phone, redialing the NORAD guard's box at the front gate. Hopefully he could catch SG-9 before they left the facility. He drummed his fingers on the top of his desk, impatiently waiting for someone to pick up. He tried and failed to not dwell on the possible reasons for Anise to have to deliver her information personally. An unconscious shudder shook through him at the prospect. The woman was as personable as a hunk of muenster. Okay, the Tok'ra was not so friendly; Freya might have some redeeming qualities.

"General Hammond, sir? What can I do for you?"

Startled, it took Hammond a moment to remember his line was flagged for all personnel, SGC or NORAD. The voice on the other end of the phone sounded young and timid, so he tried to make his tone as pleasant as possible. "Can you tell me if four of my men have left the base yet? Major Kovachek would have been driving."

"No, sir, I haven't seen anyone from your facility leaving since my shift began."

"Good. They should be arriving at the gate shortly. Please tell them their stop at Colonel O'Neill's house is unnecessary, but they are to proceed as directed to the other two locations," he instructed.

"Yes, sir. Anything else, sir?"

"That'll be all, son. Thank you."

He hung up the phone, letting it crash loudly into the cradle. Anise would be here in half an hour. By then, Janet and Teal'c would be back, and SG-9 would have reported on Major Carter and Doctor Jackson. Until then, Hammond wasn't sure what to do with himself. He'd already had to dissuade the NID's request to 'study' SG-1 in the hopes of learning more about the virus that had given them their super strength. Fortunately, the rapid dissipation of said strength and irritating cockiness had helped. Now he feared they might have another reason to come knocking at his door. They probably wouldn't be able to resist the opportunity to make SG-1 their lab rats – alive or dead. No. He wasn't going to think in the negative.

Hammond abruptly stood up and exited his office. He moved toward the control room with a stiff gait. The technicians scuttled around, appearing startled by his arrival. There was no activity from the Stargate, but he paused for a moment to study the device. No matter how many times he looked upon the alien object - not quite so alien anymore - it always gave him a sharp pang of realization at how big the universe was and how little his role in it.

"I'm going to the surface to greet Doctor Fraiser and Teal'c when they arrive. We should be back before Anise and her contingent arrive, but in case we're not, please have me paged," he ordered Sergeant Davis, who twitched once with a curious look flitting across his face.

"Yes, sir," Davis said, toning his expression to a blank.

Truth be told, Hammond could not care less if he was around when Anise got here. This whole mess could have been avoided had she had more information regarding the Ateniks and their damned armbands. He'd known as soon as SG-1 was unable to remove them that it had been a mistake to agree to the experiment. Of course, by that time it had been far too late and he'd already been able to sense the changes of personality in his people. He hoped he was letting his imagination run away with him and that there was a perfectly logical explanation for their inability to contact SG-1.

His mind supplied images of SG-1 as he had last seen them - pale to the point of being gray, exhaustion lining normally animated faces. Those things should have made a stay in the infirmary mandatory. Hammond stalked through the corridors to the elevators. He shoved the mental pictures away. Sentimentality and self-blame had no place in his position, especially considering he didn't even know if there was truly a problem yet.

The halls became blurred gray and the airmen walking through them featureless as he strode toward the entrance to the mountain. He noted the military men and women snapping to attention as he passed, but didn't respond. He didn't really know why he was making the journey, knowing the doctor and Teal'c would immediately seek him out upon their return. It wasn't like they had any additional information to share. Maybe he needed to see for himself that they truly hadn't found Jack in his home, that he wasn't magically with them and everything was just fine.

The phone was ringing as he made it to the initial checkpoint, the guard on duty reaching to answer. Damnit. He just knew it was the Tok'ra. The guard's face snapped up as he spoke into the phone. He was too far away to hear anything, but, judging from the look on the young man's face, his presumption was correct. Half an hour? Hammond checked his watch, stunned to find that it had indeed been half an hour since his discussion with Anise. Where the hell were Fraiser and Teal'c? He really wanted the doctor there to deal with the Tok'ra.

"Sir, Sergeant Davis asked me to tell you your coffee is ready and will be waiting for you in the conference room," the guard reported, puzzlement decorating his expression. "He also said you were all out of sweetener."

Any hopes that Anise was returning to relay good news took a nosedive. He really shouldn't have harbored them anyway, Hammond told himself. Had she any positive information, she wouldn't have insisted Janet be present. He nodded once at the guard, ignoring the enquiring look and pivoting around to return to level twenty-eight.

"General Hammond!" Doctor Fraiser's voice halted him two steps into his departure.

Again turning, he frowned at the still-uniformed doctor walking briskly toward him. If she left the complex like that, she must be more worried than he'd figured. Fraiser scowled as the on-duty guard actually insisted she stop for identification. He couldn't stop a slight smile at the man's very brave or very foolish dedication to his job. A glance at Teal'c's face told him the typically stoic man was also extremely agitated and Hammond's smile vanished. He ran a hand across his bare head.

"Doctor Fraiser, Teal'c. Your timing is impeccable. We're needed downstairs."

Both of them frowned and picked up their gaits, shooting looks back toward the guard's desk. He wanted to join them, assuming they were searching for signs of Sam, Daniel and Jack's return to the base. Hopefully their *safe* return. Hammond knew he'd receive a phone call from SG-9 before they'd be brought in, so he knew the action was fruitless. Still, he was unable to resist one last look as the elevator pulled to a halt and its doors opened. Nothing, no miracle appearance.

The elevator car was filled with uneasy quiet as they rode down, each of them training their eyes on the ascending numbers. As it pulled to a stop on eleven, he caught his CMO jumping slightly as the doors slid open. She covered it by fumbling for her badge, though her face revealed her disconcertion and displeasure. An automatic smile played at the corners of his mouth as he recalled her adamant protests regarding Anise during her first visit. Janet Fraiser was not one to get ruffled easily and he had taken guilty pleasure in seeing her irritation running rampant. She'd kill him if she ever found out it amused to see her so feisty.

Amusement faded as they filed into the second elevator and he realized this visit from Anise would likely not be any better for Doctor Fraiser, especially if it turned out her reservations had been warranted. He clenched his fists and tapped them against his hips in a fast rhythm, a motion that was not out of frustration but an attempt to reassure and comfort himself. It didn't work now, as it had not worked once in his entire life. He walked quickly toward the briefing room. Sergeant Davis stood in the doorway, stepping out into the corridor as they approached, a flustered red tint coloring his cheeks. Hammond couldn't tell if it was a result of the Tok'ra woman he spotted within the room or Davis' squirrelly nature. His gut instinct said it was something else entirely.

"General Hammond, I have Major Kovachek on the phone for you. He says it's extremely urgent, sir."

Hammond gave up all pretense of control and started running for his office, ignoring the statuesque and open-mouthed Anise.

~~~~~~~~~~

There was something in the manner Anise moved her mouth that Teal'c did not like. It was as if she had to labor to enunciate every word properly, twisting her full lips in an almost comical fashion, as if they were cumbersome to her and over gesticulation with her eyebrows contributed her the clownish appearance. He could not explain or rationalize the feelings. He simply did not care for the Tok'ra woman. The longer he was in her presence, the more aware of his own prejudiced and somewhat juvenile reaction he became and yet, even knowing he was basing his feelings on trivial items, he could not prevent them. Doctor Fraiser appeared to agree with his inclination, her body tense next to his. He had believed it might become necessary to restrain the smaller woman when Anise had refused to tell them anything until General Hammond returned from within his office. It would have been a difficult task.

"Major Kovachek and his team have reached Major Carter's home," the general started speaking, exiting his office to rejoin them. Teal'c did not even have to look at the man to know the telephone conversation had not been good news. "When they did not receive an answer to her doorbell, they broke in and found her unconscious on her bedroom floor. They're bringing her to the base."

Kel ma.

"Sir, what about Daniel and the colonel?"

"I had the major split up his team. He'll bring Major Carter in while the rest of them go to Doctor Jackson's apartment. I don't think it's a rash conclusion to jump to that they may be in trouble as well. I only hope Colonel O'Neill is actually there."

"General Hammond, if I may?" Teal'c clenched his jaw as Anise's dual- toned voice filled the room. "The information I have may serve to aid your physicians."

The general nodded at her shortly, sweeping his arms out in a gesture indicating they should all be seated. Teal'c took a position opposite Anise and regretted it immediately. Doctor Fraiser remained at his side. For several seconds, no one spoke. Finally, the Tok'ra cleared her throat.

"I am not quite sure the best way to state this -"

"You could just spit it out," Doctor Fraiser said, right hand slapping on the table's surface.

"Doctor -"

"No, it is all right, General. The doctor has reason for her anger. We do not begrudge her that," Anise continued, looking down for a moment. When she spoke again, it was only in the voice of her host, Freya. "Doctor Fraiser, I regret that you and Anise have had differences of opinion, but I ask that you attempt to set aside your reservations."

"Fine."

Anise once again spoke, "Upon my return to Vorash, I had the opportunity to decipher additional tablets referring to the Atenik civilization and their extinction. It seems I was mistaken in my theory that the limited effect of the armbands allowed the Goa'uld to decimate them. It was certainly a factor. However, I now believe the root cause was the proliferation of a plague among those who had worn the armbands. The majority of the population was felled by the disease, which I believe to be a direct result of the virus injected into their bodies by the armbands."

"But that doesn't make sense. The virus disappeared within hours of the armbands falling off," Doctor Fraiser said.

"That is true." Anise's cheeks became an unflattering red hue. Teal'c found himself amused by her discomfiture. "What I only just discovered was that it resurged again after several hours, though not with the same strength or result. Instead of increased physical acuity, the Ateniks began suffering only the less fortunate effects of the disease."

"Less fortunate?" General Hammond said and stood. "Less *fortunate*? If you'll recall, that virus was killing my people. Are you saying that's going to happen anyway?"

"I'm sorry, General. That's precisely what Anise is saying," Freya came forward to say. "SG-1 will deteriorate as they did before, only at a slower rate. We are truly sorry."

"Apologies will not repair the damage already done," Teal'c spoke at last. For once he could not attribute the troubling sensation flowing through him to his larval Goa'uld, but to the contents of his own stomach rebelling. His friends were going to die? He could not accept that. "Why was this information only discovered after your experiment was conducted?"

Anise flinched, the tint already smearing her cheeks deepening. She looked down at her hands.

"The tablets upon which the true nature of the virus was recorded were misplaced by my assistant. I believed I had all the necessary information to proceed."

"Well, I'm positive I'm stating the obvious here, but you made a huge mistake!" Doctor Fraiser said, pushing her chair away from the table. "One that may cause the deaths of three fine *humans*, not that you care."

"The Ateniks were able to make some progress in slowing the virus. Perhaps if we applied their treatment to Colonel O'Neill, Doctor Jackson, and Major Carter we could extend their lives long enough to find a cure."

Teal'c's anger increased with every word Anise intoned. She spoke of his friends as if they were mere tools; subjects for her to study. It reminded him all too much of his time serving under Apophis, having to witness thousand upon thousands of humans dying as if their lives were worth nothing. Having to take those lives with his own hands. This attitude was exactly what had finally helped him decide to break free from Apophis.

"Extend their lives..." Doctor Fraiser rose from her chair. "God, you say that like they're cattle or something. I want all of the information you have; and I want it before SG-1 is brought in."

"Of course. You will have our full cooperation on this matter."

I should hope so," the general said, losing the control Teal'c knew he had to have been exercising. He watched General Hammond pace in front of the window, stopping every so often to stare angrily at the Stargate. "If this error results in the deaths of SG-1, the relationship between Earth and the Tok'ra might be a little...strained in the future."

It was as serious an ultimatum as Teal'c had ever heard and one he knew would not be taken lightly by General Hammond's superiors. The general would undoubtedly be reprimanded for making an executive decision without first consulting them. Even should the Tau'ri leaders choose to cite these events as unimportant and continue relations with the Tok'ra, he would ensure their future dealings were as strained as the general implied they would be. He would be able to function without O'Neill, Major Carter and Daniel Jackson. But he would not be happy.

"With your permission, General, I'd like to have Anise join me in the med labs."

"Dismissed, Doctor. You'll keep me informed on your progress."

"Of course, sir."

Teal'c stood as the two women departed and wondered what role he should take. He was tempted to stand guard at the front gate, waiting for the arrival of his ill friends. He hoped the wait would not be lengthy, as he felt the separation from them even more acutely than a few hours ago. He turned to the general to request he take his leave, but before he could speak he heard the telephone within General Hammond's office ring. Both of them froze for a brief moment, then the general briskly walked into his office.

"Hammond!"

Teal'c could hear a faint trace of the voice on the other end of the line, but was unable to fully understand the words. It was unnecessary to do so. He needed only to monitor General Hammond's facial expression change from professional blankness to worry.

"Bring him back to the base. I'll have my aide contact the local hospitals."

He moved to stand at the open doorway, hands clasped behind his back. General Hammond slammed the phone down, looking at him grimly. Teal'c raised an eyebrow in inquiry, knowing instinctively the base commander had information regarding Daniel Jackson and O'Neill. Based upon the final statement, he assumed it was unfavorable.

"Doctor Jackson was found at his apartment in a similar condition to Major Carter. Colonel O'Neill was not there," General Hammond explained. "God only knows where he could be. I hope someone found him and brought him to a hospital."

"I will be available to conduct a search if the need arises, General Hammond."

"You know I can't let you do that, son. I think the only thing we can really do at his point is wait. Perhaps Doctor Fraiser could use your assistance. Sergeant Davis, can you come in here please?"

Teal'c took the general's brusque words as his dismissal, bowed his head slightly and backed away as the small, silver-haired sergeant moved into the office. He felt useless, the only one unable to provide any modicum of assistance in either finding or aiding his teammates. He journeyed toward the infirmary in the hope Doctor Fraiser and Anise would be in need of his help. At the very least he would be present when his friends arrived.

~~~~~~~~~~

A number of uncharitable and downright bitchy comments were constantly at the tip of Janet's tongue as she tried to focus on Anise's grating voice. Deep down she knew she was truly angry with herself for having allowed the Tok'ra to conduct an experiment on three of her patients, her *friends*. She was as careless as Anise when it came to fully researching the outcome, although, in her own defense, the Tok'ra scientist had been less than forthcoming regarding a number of key aspects of the Atenik armbands. Had she known a virus was the cause for the superhuman abilities, she never would have authorized it.

"So, three injections of this a day," Janet said, holiding up a vial of fluorescent yellow liquid against the light, "and their decline should be slowed by several days. Do you really think that's enough time?"

"It will have to be, Doctor Fraiser," Anise told her. "We also should remember that the Ateniks were not human. Evidence suggests their physical makeup was very different from that of the human body. This may work to our advantage."

Despite herself, Janet saw a little bit of logic in that particular argument. A very little bit. She scowled at the tube, furrowing her eyebrows in thought.

"I can try to synthesize this, in case we need more than you've brought."

"That will not be necessary. Before I arrived, I took the liberty of doing just that. Because I arrived alone, however, I left most of it back on Vorash. I will return there immediately to retrieve the rest, as well as to inquire about Selmac's location. Should we not be successful, his host may wish to be here."

"You think?"

This wasn't good. SG-1 hadn't even been brought into the infirmary, and already her emotions were zigzagging. Janet just couldn't shake the feeling that she was going to be forced to sit around and do nothing, counting on Anise's magic antidote to work miracles and counting on SG-1 to get themselves out of trouble. As a physician, that was horrible. As a friend, it was far worse. She needed to find a way to occupy her mind and her body while they waited. Sam would be here soon and then she could obtain a better assessment of what they were dealing with. She sighed. She shouldn't take her frustrations on the person most likely to help.

"Sorry, sorry. I know General Carter would want to be here – thank you for thinking of that," she muttered before transferring her attention. "Lieutenant Wells, would you be so kind as to escort Anise to the embarkation room?"

"Yes, ma'am. Right away."

Janet tracked the figures as they left the lab, then averted her eyes to stare at the phone. Willing it to ring wouldn't really work, she knew, yet she couldn't seem to stop herself. Again, her imagination got away from her and she pondered all sorts of scenarios to explain why it was taking Major Kovachek so long to bring Sam in. That alone was enough to keep her busy and prevented her mind from wandering to the conditions of Daniel and the colonel. It was a six of one or half dozen of the other as far as she was concerned.

"Doctor Fraiser, is there anything I can do to be of assistance?"

Janet jumped at the deep voice intruding into the quiet. She shifted until she was facing the door, where she saw Teal'c towering. She knew he must feel somewhat adrift in the sudden chaos of nothingness. He always was one to do rather than wait and goodness knew if *she* felt frustrated at her helplessness, then he would feel it in quadruple. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could think of to help him keep his body and mind occupied.

"I don't think so, Teal'c, I'm sorry." She looked around the small infirmary, still searching for something. She had a moment of inspiration. "Wait, I take that back. It would be really great if you could coordinate the effort up at the NORAD entrance - I'll send some of the orderlies with you. The teams bringing Major Carter and Doctor Jackson in are doing so in a non-traditional manner. In other words, no ambulances. We'll need those gurneys up there."

Before she'd even completed her suggestion, Teal'c was moving. Janet watched him closely for several minutes, alarmed to note a slight slump to his shoulders. Suddenly feeling the need for a stiff drink, she moved to give him a hand in gathering materials. It wasn't as soothing to her as she would have liked, but anything was preferable to standing around chewing her fingernails. A pang of sympathy shot through her as she realized this must be how General Hammond felt every time a team was late to arrive home from a mission.

Too soon, Teal'c and her entourage of orderlies were on their way out the door and she was left alone. She chewed on her lower lip again, an idiosyncrasy she thought she had left behind long ago. At the rate she was going, she'd break skin soon. Janet moved to each of the three stations she'd already prepared and triple-checked that she had everything she might need. She eyed the near-glowing ampoules of Anise's potion with distaste. Part of her was still skeptical regarding anything the Tok'ra scientist said...she might actually do them more harm by following Anise's plan, given the already disastrous track record. She didn't have any other choice. Scowling, she absently rubbed a small bottle with her thumb as if it were a worry stone.

Nervous voices flitted into her subconscious, pulling her away from her glum reverie. Janet snapped to attention, depositing the ampoule onto the tray and turning to watch the door. Within moments, two white-clad men fairly flew through it, gurney sandwiched between them.

"Over this way, please, gentlemen."

Janet saw Sam's unmoving form, her friend's face as white as the sheets, and braced herself for the worst. She scooted out of the way, scanning Sam's body and impatiently pressed close before flickering her gaze back up to the face.

"Janet?"

Janet reeled back slightly. Heartened by Sam's conscious state, she leaned over and brushed a hand across the other woman's forehead. "Sam. It's going to be okay. Can you tell me what happened?"

Well, that was certainly a stupid question. One, she already knew what had happened and two, Sam had been unconscious for who knew how long. Still, Sam could clarify the symptoms for her, give her hope that Anise's assessment was incorrect. Janet kept her hand on a warm forehead as the major shifted around weakly, eyes closing again. Frowning, Janet resisted the urge to violently shake her friend in a foolish attempt to bring her back to health. Now there was science at its best. She moved her hand to a wrist and felt a pulse beating too rapidly for her own comfort.

"Janet?" Sam whispered, eyes opening to stare straight at her.

Through her. Leaning closer, Janet gasped when she realized Sam didn't register the movement. Because she couldn't see.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam couldn't figure out how Janet had got in her house or, more importantly, what her friend was doing in her bedroom. Her whole body ached, so it was just as well. A doctor seemed an appropriate uninvited guest. What was wrong with her? She had never felt so bad in her entire life. Pervasive weakness in her muscles was apparent without even attempting to move them, and she was abnormally hot. Like someone was lighting matches, blowing them out and flicking them at her. Her skin prickled and seared.

"...okay. Can you tell me what happened?"

What happened? Wasn't Janet supposed to tell her that? She furrowed her eyebrows once, scrunching her closed eyelids tightly before opening them to peer up at her friend. Confusion railed through her as she saw nothing but indistinct shapes blurred in a deep graywash, her bedroom walls completely unrecognizable to her. She might as well be in a sterile room. Blinking rapidly, she squinted in the hopes of clearing the film from her pupils. Sleep usually didn't take this long to dissipate.

"Janet?" she asked again, hoping on some level that she was wrong. That she was still sleeping and this was some strange dream.

The dark shape moved and she could just distinguish an arm reaching for her face before a cool hand enveloped her forehead. Sighing, Sam thankfully leaned into the cool caress and closed her eyes again. Not a dream. Janet would tell her what was going on and ease the panic forming in the back of her mind just as she always did. It was okay. It would be. Flu? She was so hot, her mouth arid. A cool cloth replaced the cool hand, making her shiver in appreciation that quickly turned to chill. It was so cold. She swore she had turned the thermostat up when she had got home last...when had she come home again? An image of General Hammond's face scowled at her and she flinched back as if he were her father issuing a reprimand.

"Yeah, it's me, Sam," Janet whispered, and even through her confusion Sam could hear an odd note in her friend's voice. "I'm going to have a look into your eyes, okay?"

Frowning, she tried to nod in understanding but succeeded only in flopping her head uselessly. Janet called something to someone, then there was a sudden and welcome influx of warmth. Muscles she hadn't been aware were tense with distress relaxed, by will of whatever was flowing into her veins. Wait. More than Janet was here? Tinny beeping noises suddenly cut through her confusion and she realized she wasn't at home. Infirmary. Despite the warning, Sam jerked when someone gently lifted her right eyelid. Oh, God, she hadn't even seen it coming.

She squirmed, panic breaking through the flow of drugs to dampen common sense. Holding her more firmly, Janet murmured something she supposed was meant to calm her down. Pain accompanied the panic, a far more effective deterrent to motion than any words could be. It felt as if someone had opened her up, poked at all her organs and then done a bad job of sewing her back up. She moaned, her fright increasing at how weak she sounded - like an hour old kitten separated from its mother. Not herself. The drugs reasserted themselves in counterpoint to her panic, easing her body if not her mind.

Racing, her mind struggled to remember what had happened to make her so sick. She recalled looking at her pathetic reflection in her bathroom mirror. Calling the colonel, then Daniel...who hadn't answered. Fear, worry. Were they sick too? Lifting her head off the pillow and opening her eyes wider as if doing so would make them see, she searched the haze for signs of either teammate. What about Teal'c? No, Teal'c was fine because of his symbiote; because he couldn't participate in Anise's experiment. The armbands, of course! It never should have taken her so long to figure it out. Gasping, she remembered her dizziness and tumble to the floor. Then nothing. The colonel must have come over and found her. That meant he was all right.

"Colonel O'Neill? Daniel?" Sam asked, forgetting about her sightlessness for the moment. There was a long pause and she strained to see Janet through the fog. Squinting yielded very little result, though she thought she could make out an outline of her friend's form. "Janet? What?"

"Teal'c and I went to the colonel's house earlier today and he wasn't there, nor had you or Daniel responded to phone calls. SG-9 found you and are on their way to Daniel's apartment. Hopefully, he and Colonel O'Neill are there, but we're also calling all the local hospitals and mor...the hospitals."

"The armbands."

"Yes," Janet confirmed, taking up her hand.

How long had she been unconscious? Trying to focus was becoming increasingly difficult but she felt as though there were something she needed to tell Janet. She blinked slowly, then decided just to keep her eyes closed. Thoughts skulked around in her head or, more accurately, ghosts of memories and Janet's words. The colonel sounding so tired on the phone, yet worried; her relief that he took her concern for Daniel seriously and was on his way over to set her at ease...but he hadn't shown up. No, Janet had said he wasn't here, that they were looking at hospitals and somewhere else. Somewhere that had made her friend choke on the word. Dead...they thought the colonel could be dead?

"That bad?" Please, no.

"Yes," Janet said.

Sam was grateful for the honesty even though it sickened her heart. The colonel, Daniel...dead. Or *dying*. Janet clearly wasn't sure she could work a miracle like she always did and that scared her more than her own symptoms, more than anything had in quite some time. Sam opened her eyes. She could still discern a slight shift in her vision as her eyes jostled with tiredness and drugs. Deeper gray teased and she didn't know if it was caused by approaching unconsciousness or blindness.

"It's okay, Sam. Just rest now. Everything will be okay."

Janet was lying and doing a poor job of it at that. Sam tipped her head in the direction she believed her friend was situated, hoping her expression of disbelieving reproach wasn't actually as blank as her eyesight. Tightening of fingers on her cool hand told her that the message had been received as she succumbed to complete darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~

Davis seemed to eye him even more nervously than usual upon entering his office. The sergeant's expression bordered somewhere between fear and distress. He was a picture of abject woe and Hammond could probably blame some of that on his own foul mood. He sometimes forgot to curb his own reactions to those innocently around him...which was certainly the case here. The thought of SG-1 succumbing to an experiment he had questioned from the very instant it had been suggested not only worried him, but rankled him as well. He never should have allowed the Tok'ra use his people.

"Sergeant, have there been any phone calls from any of the local hospitals?" Hammond asked, waving his hand at his chair in an unspoken gesture for the other man to sit.

"No, sir," Davis said, knitting his eyebrows for a fraction of a second before smoothing his features to remain neutral.

Of course there hadn't been. Sergeant Davis was one of his most competent staff members and he would have immediately brought news of Jack to his attention. Hammond rubbed his palms across his desk and shot Davis an apologetic look.

"I'll make the calls, sir."

"Thank you."

Davis shut the office door and left him in solitude. It only lasted thirty seconds. His phone rang and filled the dread-heavy air. He answered the phone sharply and waited for a response.

"General Hammond, Major Carter has arrived and is being taken to the infirmary," Teal'c's voice reported.

"Is she..."

"She remains unconscious. She does not appear well."

That was a given, though Teal'c's interruption was uncharacteristic and spoke of how severe the Jaffa believed her condition to be. He wished he could race down to the infirmary to see for himself anyway, perhaps even see something to contradict the assertion. Anything. Until all of SG-1 were safely in the mountain his place was in his office, guarding over the rest of the base as he always did. It certainly wasn't fair, but then nothing in a command position seemed to be. More often than not, the disadvantages beat out the perks and he sometimes longed for the early days of his Air Force career, the optimism and enthusiasm of being a wet behind the ears lieutenant.

"Keep me informed, Teal'c," he commanded, hanging up the phone and resigning himself to his duty and his thoughts.

Turning back time wasn't an option for his outlook, no more than it was an option to go back and make it so he had put his foot resoundingly down to the Tok'ra in this instance. His gut had screamed alarm but he'd let the constant pressure to prove the viability of the SGC through obtaining advanced technology get to him. He should have known from their experiences with the Eurondans that most good things came with huge bad strings attached. This time it was his people who might suffer death, though, and he felt hypocritical for admitting what a difference that made. He should have listened to the looks Janet had given him. She had known as well as he that this hadn't been likely to turn out well.

No. With a snap, he pulled himself out of that downward spiral. Sitting around moping certainly wasn't going to help SG-1 and neither was hiding away in his office, hiding behind the façade of duty. His duty was to his people and right now some of his people were in trouble. The injured or sick always got top priority. This situation was no different. Decision made, Hammond rose and headed for the door, greeted by the sound of a knock before he'd even left the vicinity of his desk.

"Come!"

The door opened a crack and the ingratiating, overly sympathetic face of Freya peeked in. He bit the inside of his cheek in frustration, seriously beginning to take a personal disliking to the woman and her pet snake. He figured she had more bad news to impart and then would be on her merry way to do her Tok'ra things. Great...he was channeling Jack again, sarcastic thoughts more over the top than he usually indulged in.

"General Hammond, Anise and I will be returning to Vorash in the hopes of contacting Jacob Carter. Doctor Fraiser agreed it would be good for him to be here," Freya said, and he heard the sympathy there. He almost believed it to be sincere. "I wished to apologize again for this entire affair."

And again, too little, too late. Mentally dismissing the apology, Hammond found himself stuck on the fact she and Janet believed it necessary to bring Jake back to Earth, especially because he was likely on an operation of some sort or another. That could only mean time was short and hope was scant.

"Very well," was all he could think to say, knowing it really didn't correspond with any information she had shared. "I'll see you off."

Freya deferred to him and silently followed him through the briefing room to the control room staircase. He smiled as he saw the Stargate swirling to life without his instruction to dial Vorash, Davis' subtle way of telling the woman not to let the wormhole hit her on the way out. Despite the humor to be taken at Freya's expense, Hammond did think she was bearing too much of the brunt for their worry and dissatisfaction with the Tok'ra alliance and had to feel somewhat bad for it. He tamped down his petty thoughts, issuing her a tentative smile as he ushered her toward the embarkation room.

"Please do your best to locate Jacob. I know he'll want to be here."

"I will General Hammond, be assured of that," Freya said, then bowed her head to allow Anise control. Expecting it, he was able to withhold his wince at the grating, deep tone of Tok'ra. "And I will continue my research in the hopes of discovering a means to prevent the deaths of SG-1."

Hearing those words spoken out loud was harsh and terrible, unwelcome in his ears. He clenched both his jaw and his fists but nodded his head in acknowledgment, waving a fisted hand toward the open 'gate.

Without further comment, Freya and Anise walked up the ramp and, for the first time, Hammond hoped to see the Tok'ra return sooner rather than later. Not because he believed Anise would truly come up with something but because he knew Jake would really want to be here. Jake needed to be here. He watched the wormhole reshape itself after making way for the woman, turning away as it promptly shut down.

As he climbed the stairs back to the control room, he decided that rather than be in the way up in the infirmary he would traverse to the mountain's entrance to await Daniel's arrival and, God willing, Jack's. He entered the room, eyes immediately locking on a tense, pale Sergeant Davis, who shook his head in sad negative. Hammond envisioned the worst - that the hospital searches had resulted in news he was not prepared to hear and Jack was already dead.

"Sir?"

"Yes, airman," he said, opening his eyes again.

"Colonel O'Neill is at Memorial Hospital, sir. He was brought in almost a day ago by a taxi cab driver..." Hammond held his breath. A day ago. He couldn't figure out why the hospital hadn't been in touch with them as Jack's papers would have clearly labeled him an Air Force officer. "They apologized for not having the chance to contact us sooner. I asked about his condition, sir, and they wouldn't release that information."

Of course they wouldn't, but it didn't matter. Hammond knew what Jack's condition was.

"Very well, I'll contact them. Did they tell you where he was?"

"Intensive Care, sir."

Goddamnit. Chances were good the civilian hospital would be disinclined to move a critical patient and resistance could be expected. Hammond tossed about several ideas for the best course of action, finally deciding a phone call wouldn't be effective.

"I'm going to the infirmary to see if Doctor Warner is available to accompany me to the hospital. With any luck, we'll transition and transport Colonel O'Neill to our facility," he announced, spinning around and heading back down the stairs.

At last he had something to do and while it wasn't an enviable task, it was still something. He reached the elevator, pushed the up button and waited an incredibly long time for the door to open. Impatience cropped up, and he decided not to wait and to take the stairs. He huffed and puffed up six flights of stairs. By the time he reached the seventh, he vowed he'd start exercising more. He dragged the door open, glad the infirmary was only a few steps away. He leaned on the wall for a second, trying to gather his breath. As he reached the infirmary, he heard the mechanical slide of elevator doors opening.

He instinctively got out of the entryway and drew away from the personnel rushing through the door. Through the white-clad arms and torsos, Hammond caught a glimpse of Daniel lying terribly still and pallid on the gurney. He had to look away, gaze skittering around the room and landing on Sam's equally inert form. The multitude of machines already hooked up to the young woman told him nothing except the direness of her condition. Confident he would no longer be an obstacle, he inched a little closer. Both SGC doctors were talking rapidly but quietly to the rest of the staff, both looked grim.

He had no time for this. He had to go get Jack.

He watched Daniel being hooked up to monitors and his stomach became heavy with helplessness. Hammond cleared his throat and focused his attention on the archaeologist's immobile hands before movement on his left distracted him. He turned to find Teal'c at his side, looking at him with deceptive disassociation blanketing his features. They didn't speak over the background of murmurs and beeps, sharing a moment of understanding sadness.

"Doctor Jackson?"

The hesitant voice of Doctor Warner captured his interest, pulling him back to the activity surrounding Daniel. Hope sparked when he witnessed the young man's hand move on its own, not as a residual effect from the people still poking and prodding at him. Moving closer, Hammond was not surprised by Teal'c matching his strides. As he drew up to the bed, he saw blue eyes barely open a crack, clearly unfocused and confused.

"Daniel?" Janet coaxed from the other side of the bed, leaning over as she gently clasped the ill man's arm and rubbed it. There was no reaction other than a long blink. She glanced over to him and Teal'c. "Before you arrived, Major Carter was awake and aware for a couple of minutes, sir. I'm hoping for the same with Daniel."

"But?" Hammond asked, feeling as though she was leaving something unsaid. He wondered why she was addressing him instead of continuing to talk to Daniel.

"But...nothing." She turned to the man on the bed. "Daniel?"

"Where..." Daniel rasped, startling Hammond even though he had anticipated a response.

"In the infirmary." Janet moved her hand up to Daniel's damp forehead and brushed aside the clinging tendrils of hair plastered to it. "Can you tell me how you feel?"

Hammond glared at her with irritation. In his estimation, the question was rather beating a dead horse. Confusion was predominant on the young man's features, but running a close second was pain. Anyone could see that. Janet shook her head slightly, and he relaxed as he understood from her wordless warning that she had good cause to inquire.

"Not, um, not...well?"

"I know, we've given you something to help with that. Other than the physical pain, is there anything else you can tell me? Anything at all?"

Daniel opened his eyes wider, fear evident in them. Fear but almost no recognition. Hammond's own apprehension escalated, though he couldn't say with certainty why.

~~~~~~~~~~

Darkness slowly gave way to light and Daniel could feel himself floating. Buzzing of voices or bees or something carried on above and all around him and was punctuated by tenseness that was tangible even in his fuzzy state. He felt himself being forcibly moved from a semi-reclined position to flat on his back. Pain. There was so much. It came from every part of his body, and he was both cold and hot. He wanted to slide out of the grip held on him but he couldn't move a muscle. He thought the evasive maneuver wouldn't be very fruitful anyway.

Beyond the physical pain, he felt...wrong. He had a vague sensation coursing through him that he couldn't quite pinpoint. Thick. Congested, maybe? He couldn't remember if there was a specific reason for the strange feeling. He should remember something, right? He concentrated on the finding that information in his memory for a while. After several minutes, Daniel decided it was...what was the...useless. It was useless. He focused instead on making his eyes open to let whomever was above him know that he was aware. Sort of. Someone must have taken a bottle of crazy glue to his eyelids, because they wouldn't do what he wanted. More poking and prodding came. There was a sharp stabbing on the top of his left hand followed by pressure and warmth. Almost immediately after this, his head seemed to clot even further and his body was jostled. He finally opened his eyes a crack.

"Doctor Jackson?"

Okay, he was somewhere where people knew him. That narrowed it down to...the SGC. With that realization, he started to hear faint, familiar sounds beyond the rumbling voices. Beeps from the infirmary stuff. Right, that made sense. Daniel knew Doctor Warner's voice and tried to respond. He blinked slowly and his vision started to clear somewhat. He saw both Doctors Warner and Fraiser leaning over him. He made his left hand to move. His head started to hurt.

"Daniel?" Doctor Fraiser said, rubbing her hand along his right arm. She glanced away as he blinked again, to someone else in the room, apparently. "Before you arrived, Major Carter was awake and aware for a couple of minutes, sir. I'm hoping for the same."

Fraiser called Sam, Sam, unless to...

"But?" General Hammond's voice called out.

"But...nothing," she said, looking back to him. "Daniel?"

"Where?" Daniel asked, surprised at the question as well as how softly it came out. He knew where he was.

"The infirmary." The what? Doctor Fraiser sounded worried as she took her hand from his arm and placed it on his forehead. "Can you tell me how you feel?"

"Not, um, not...well?" he muttered. He couldn't find the words. He was so...something. Not right. Fraiser stared at him. A crinkle formed between her eyebrows. He suspected that wasn't what she wanted to know.

"I know, we've given you something to help with that. Other than the physical pain, is there anything else you can tell me? Anything at all?"

It felt as if there were something much bigger at stake than his feeling terrible. He fought to put the pervasive pain aside. Daniel couldn't think about anything. Nothing came to mind except niggling worry about why she had asked the question. She had asked him something, right? Fraiser stared at him. He remembered what she...what else? He thought she wasn't asking just because of him. Oh, God. The reason for her concern became clear to him. It was a driving force so cold and dark he couldn't help but panic.

"Jack? Sam?" Daniel said. He watched Doctor Fraiser's face as closely as she watched his.

"Sam's here," she said. She looked uncomfortable.

For several seconds, the only sounds he heard were the beeps of machines and then Doctor Fraiser began speaking again. Words tumbled from her lips, but it was as though a barrier had been thrown up in his brain. Daniel didn't understand anything. He could hear the worry and sadness in her tone, see it on her expressive face, but the meaning of the actual message was lost to him. Panicking, he jerked his head off the pillow, mind scrambling to catch up or catch anything. Nothing, there was nothing but emptiness, a void of scary incomprehension. Breathing harshly as he was pushed back to a reclining position, he opened his mouth to tell the doctor to slow down, in case that might help him understand.

Language abandoned him, the world turning into a mixed-up, slow-motioned place. Why could he think what he wanted to say but not communicate it? Why could he not understand anyone else but know he didn't understand? He spoke gibberish, frightened by the frightened looks he received in return. Warmth of drugs gained a foothold in his body and he felt himself fading into the darkness they offered. He heard his name called more than once. His name was the only word he recognized amid the animated but senseless conversation playing out around him. Daniel closed his eyes and was afraid that he wouldn't wake up again. Or, if he did, that he wouldn't be himself but a shell. The sick thought that he wouldn't even be aware if that ended up being his fate accompanied him into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~

He had thought the presence of his friends at the SGC would have provided him a certain level of comfort. How wrong he had been, the erroneousness of his belief evidenced by Daniel Jackson's insensible mutters echoing throughout the room. Doctor Fraiser opened her mouth, shock clearly imprinted on her face and for long seconds no one spoke. Stepping closer, Teal'c watched Daniel's eyes losing the slight focus they had possessed for such a short time.

"Daniel, I don't understand. Can you repeat that? Daniel?"

There was no response, only a lengthy blink. Teal'c did not see any comprehension within Daniel's expression and did not understand the childlike murmur that was emitted. He had not heard such speech in many years. It had been since Ry'ac was but a small boy learning to say his first words. The comparison of Daniel with Teal'c's own infant son chilled him. Language was one of his friend's greatest strengths and to hear him reduced to such was indeed frightening. He did not understand what could be the cause of such a reduction in ability. Doctor Fraiser looked as disturbed as he felt, her face paling as she looked away from the archaeologist to General Hammond and himself.

"Doctor Fraiser, what was that? What did he say?" the general said, stocky frame stiff with tension. "One of his other languages?"

Teal'c almost laughed at the suggestion but did not blame General Hammond for his hopefulness. If it were that simple, then the intense feeling of dread surely would not exist within his own person. He looked upon Daniel's now unconscious form for a moment, then tore his eyes away to glance at Doctor Fraiser again and allowing hope to rise.

"No, sir. I think...I think...." Doctor Fraiser stammered, features set in a mask of horrified comprehension.

She moved her hand from Daniel's forehead, waving it over the still man first and then flicking it toward Major Carter. Teal'c suspected he did not want to hear Doctor Fraiser's reasoning, foolishly believing that her refraining from giving voice to it would negate the possibility. Because Doctor Fraiser was usually correct in such matters.

"I have an idea of what might be happening."

"And that would be?"

The doctor studied the monitors attached to Daniel Jackson, reaching over to toy with the intravenous line attached to his left hand. She, too, was apparently wishing to avoid the declaration. Clearing her throat, she abandoned her nervous mannerism and said, "Sir, when Major Carter was awake, there was something wrong besides the organ failure."

All of them, himself very much included, cringed as Doctor Fraiser stumbled over those damning words. Organ failure. She straightened her shoulders as if to bolster herself but her face betrayed the effectiveness of the motion. Her visage was pale and stricken. He doubted that the news she had to share could be any worse than that which they already knew, and his impatience grew. General Hammond brought himself alongside Doctor Warner and the motion prompted the Doctor Fraiser to continue.

"She couldn't see. I attributed it as another effect of the Atenik virus, which of course it is, but logic dictates that Doctor Jackson would be suffering the same degradation of sight. It was clear to me that he could see us, sir, so that theory is disqualified. However, and this is only a guess..."

She trailed off, but Teal'c already surmised the direction of her line of thinking. He said it before she could, "The skills that the Atenik armbands strengthened most greatly in Major Carter and Daniel Jackson are now those which are most impacted by their decline in health."

"Yes. It's really difficult to know if that's true at this point, though. All we have is Daniel seeming...slower and we haven't tested Major Carter's eyes, and with both of them unconscious we may never have the chance."

"Does this really make any difference?" General Hammond asked.

"I'm not sure, sir, but it very well could. I'll know more after I figure out how far the virus has overtaken them and how the serum Anise provided works. We haven't even had time to determine if the variance between Atenik and human physiology is significant enough to change the ultimate outcome of the bug." Doctor Fraiser looked over her shoulder at Major Carter for a moment, turned back to Daniel Jackson, and then focused on General Hammond. "Any news on Colonel O'Neill?"

"Actually, that's why I came down, Doctor. He was apparently admitted to Memorial Hospital over twenty-four hours ago."

"Do you have any information about his condition?"

"They wouldn't release anything to me, but I don't expect he's any better than Major Carter or Doctor Jackson. He's in the Intensive Care Unit. I was on my way to bring him back here and thought either you or Doctor Warner might accompany me."

"That's a good idea, sir. And, actually, if he's been under medical supervision for that length of time, he might be in better shape," Doctor Fraiser commented, chewing on her bottom lip. Teal'c frowned. He had not witnessed the doctor exhibit that habit prior to now. "Doctor Warner, could you take some of the serum and administer it to Colonel O'Neill?"

"Of course." Doctor Warner nodded and moved away from them.

Teal'c was gladdened O'Neill's location had been discovered. With the news, the tension in his muscles relaxed but only ever so slightly. His friends were still in grave danger, their lives depending on a potential cure he did not fully trust and factors beyond the control of medicine. If the virus was indeed attacking his teammates' heightened strengths, did that mean death was not the ending for them? If not, would the loss of sight, knowledge, and, in O'Neill's case, physical prowess be any better? He was not certain and, selfishly, believed they would still be as lost to him.

"Perhaps I should accompany you as well," Teal'c said, though glancing at his still friends made him hesitate in his decision. The need for activity that he had wished for only minutes earlier dissipated slightly with their arrival.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Teal'c," General Hammond said. "It might be best if you stay here with Doctor Jackson and Major Carter to wait for Anise's return."

He tipped his head to the side in agreement as the general straightened his shoulders and began walking toward the approaching Doctor Warner. The two men left without another word, intent on their new mission. Mentally wishing them speed, Teal'c looked around the still bustling infirmary for a chair. "Do you believe there to be a way to increase the effectiveness of the Atenik serum?" he said. He was not entirely sure if he was speaking to Doctor Fraiser or merely giving voice to his concern.

"I'm just not sure, Teal'c," Doctor Fraiser said. "At this point, I'm really counting on there to be a big enough difference in symptoms that Anise's prediction of death is overzealous."

"Indeed. I will sit with Daniel Jackson and Major Carter while we wait for O'Neill to arrive. Perhaps if you have time, you will join me?"

"Thank you, Teal'c. I don't know if I can take you up on that, but I'll keep it in mind."

Teal'c gave Doctor Fraiser a smile and then maneuvered a rolling chair in between Major Carter and Daniel Jackson's beds. The nurses had finally left the vicinity, indication the tests were complete and confirmation that there was nothing to be done unless Doctors Fraiser and Warner were able to devise a means to save his friends. He had more faith in them solving the terrible issue than Anise, whom he would not be saddened never to see again.

From a closer proximity, Teal'c could see with more detail how ill his friends were. Even in good health, Major Carter's features were light and fragile. Since he had joined the SGC, she had seemed to become thinner and thinner, her striking cheekbones becoming more prominent, her eyes more luminous. He had always considered her a beautiful woman, but now those features seemed to him too delicate and breakable. She looked like finely crafted porcelain, something to admire but not touch. He struggled to remain stoic. He wished for her to open her eyes and be able to see him when she did.

Teal'c transferred his attention to Daniel. Instantly, he knew he would fare no better in trying to find some comfort through closeness. The creases customarily lining the archaeologist's face, lines that had made him appear harder, older and wiser, were gone, making Daniel appear as delicate and young as Major Carter. Never had he considered his friend so much younger than he, though the number of years separating them was great. No, Daniel possessed knowledge and heartache that belied his numerical age. Seeing him now, unshielded, was crippling and painful.

"How are they doing, Teal'c?"

Startled, he turned to find Jacob Carter standing at his left side with a pensive, troubled look on his face. Teal'c frowned. He had not even heard the announcement of an incoming wormhole. He observed the Tok'ra's dirty clothing and wondered what sort of mission he had been on. It seemed apparent to him that it was something very important. He felt a brief flicker of appreciation for Anise's input on that matter. Very brief.

"Jacob Carter, it is good that you are here."

"Yes." Jacob Carter sighed heavily, head bobbing around in search of something. "Anise explained what's going on but I know she didn't try the healing device. Selmac and I'd like to give it a shot but we didn't have time to retrieve our own."

"There is additional information you require before such an attempt is made. Doctor Fraiser believes in the possibility that the virus is not affecting SG-1 in the same manner it would the Ateniks."

"How so?"

"Daniel Jackson and Major Carter have both exhibited signs that particular body functions were being attacked more virulently. These functions correspond with the attributes accentuated in each of them by the armband devices. Upon moments awareness, Major Carter's eyesight was faulty and Daniel Jackson could not seem to understand when attempts were made to communicate with him," Teal'c quickly imparted, displeased at having to repeat the unsavory information. "Perhaps it would be wise to refrain until that is confirmed."

"That would have an impact on the healing process," Jacob Carter said. "But can we afford to wait? What about Jack?"

"O'Neill was taken to a civilian facility. General Hammond is on his way there now."

For several seconds, Jacob Carter did not speak. There was much information to process. Teal'c waited, empathetic to the other man's likely overwhelmed state.

"I'd like you to at least go get the healing device, Teal'c. Just in case."

He knew this was Jacob speaking, not General Jacob Carter. Not Selmac. Teal'c immediately moved to comply with the request, but was halted by the thought such an action would simply cause their relative impotence in the situation to be highlighted. Rising, Teal'c ushered the other man into his vacated chair, then walked to another, which he wheeled back to the bedsides for himself.

"Teal'c?" The tone was indignant, tired and heartrending all at once, and Teal'c inwardly winced at the depth of feeling conveyed.

"I am certain Doctor Fraiser will complete her tests soon. Until then, perhaps we should attempt to speak with Major Carter and Daniel Jackson, in the hopes they are cognizant of our presence."

Belief that comatose patients could hear what went on around them was a prevalent one to the Tau'ri, and one Teal'c had heard with some fascination. He was not certain he believed it valid, yet somehow believed this technique might help his friends, Jacob Carter, and himself. He reached out and laid a hand on Major Carter's delicate fingers.

"Maybe you're right."

They sat in silence, then Jacob Carter cleared his throat.

"It is more difficult a task than I anticipated," Teal'c admitted, speaking for both of them. He brushed his fingers atop of the major's, then dropped both his hands into his lap. Even this simple task was overcoming him.

"Maybe we should just talk to each other at first. Kind of ease into it."

"What should we discuss?"

"Oh, I don't know. I could tell you some great stories about Sam as a kid. Don't worry, Sam, I won't tell him anything embarrassing. Even I'm not that bold." Jacob Carter laughed easily, though Teal'c could still see the tension lining his eyes. The general picked up Major Carter's limp hand, cupping it between both of his. "I pity anyone who gets on my daughter's bad side."

"Indeed."

"And you can tell me more about Daniel. Stuff my kid hasn't shared."

Teal'c found himself relaxing, uplifted by Jacob Carter's company. He would not delude himself into thinking his chosen task would prove vital to the recovery of his friends, but he did believe in its importance. He smiled, lulled by the stories the other man relayed. Envisioning a carefree but disciplined Major Carter was indeed preferable to seeing the unmoving shape before him, and he gladly did so.

"One of Sam's favorite things to do was to put together model cars. We bought the first one for her brother, who completely abandoned the thing after about twenty minutes. But Sam picked it up and wouldn't stop until she had the whole thing done. She couldn't have been more than four, but her eye for detail was astonishing. I knew then that she was something special. She went through model after model, each one more intricate and difficult than the last. She still works on cars, or trucks, or motorcycles. Anything with an engine to rebuild. Did you know that? She's a regular grease monkey."

"Grease monkey? That is not a term with which I am familiar."

"Mechanic," Jacob Carter clarified. "But enough about Sam for the moment. What about Daniel? Does he have any dirty secrets?"

"He does not, though it may surprise you to know Daniel Jackson has a somewhat eccentric taste in entertainment," Teal'c revealed, suddenly feeling guilty and uncomfortable sharing this particular piece of information. He doubted his friend would appreciate either of the Carters knowing it.

"Eccentric? Hmmm, sounds interesting. Details."

At that moment, Teal'c became aware of how similar Jacob Carter was to O'Neill. Both men held a sharp wit and a devilish nature quite unusual for members of the military. The reminder sobered him. He found himself unable to continue.

"I should not. I will choose another subject on which to speak," he said, turning to fully look at the archaeologist.

Nothing came to mind, only an intense sorrow that he may never again be witness to the sharp intellect of Daniel Jackson or to the joy of discovery lighting Major Carter's eyes brilliant blue. His mind unwillingly traveled to thoughts of O'Neill and he found no comfort there.

~~~~~~~~~~

The heavy fog covering him could only mean one thing - he'd been given massive doses of drugs. It made thinking difficult but not impossible and it took Jack only a minute to realize he was in the infirmary. Three seconds beyond that, he remembered why. Cursing Anise, her mother and her mother's mother - did snakes *really* have mothers? - he attempted to peel his eyelids open, unsurprised by their unwillingness to work for him. Being unconscious for long periods of time had a tendency to do that to a person. Apparently. Fighting the drugs, he managed to crack one eye open.

Not the infirmary. Whiter, bigger. Hospital. Sick...sick. Crap, Carter and Daniel.

The haze started to disappear as his team members' last appearances solidified in his mind's eye, along with the memory of fierce pain. Not 'shot in the shoulder' pain, more 'all night at a kegger' pain, followed by a long day blistering in the sun, and then finally soaking sensitized skin in icy *salt* water. He knew without question that his friends had been suffering as much as he. What he didn't know was if he ever made it to Carter's house - or if either her or Daniel had passed out like he had but were lying in their homes, unaided. Still hurting, where he had the blessing of medication for whatever it was that ailed his body. Those damned armbands, what had the doc said about their effects? Killing them while making them strong. He was damned sure they were just killing now. A rush of panic for his friends had him moving. No, not moving. Why couldn't he move? Heart pounding, he groaned in earnest, which brought a scampering of feet and a frowning face floated above his.

"Mister O'Neill!" a pint-sized nurse exclaimed, apparently surprised by his awakening. He wondered if it was a prerequisite that a person had to be tiny to work in the medical field. Then Shorty the Giant Male Nurse appeared behind Lil' Missy and shot that theory to hell. Whoa, his head was scattery. "Get the doctor, Tim."

You tell 'im, he thought. Wait, Tim...as in Tiny? Jack would have chuckled if not for the terrible non-sensation from the neck down dogging all the worry cells his brain could spare from the concern for Daniel and Carter. He didn't need the doctor to tell him there was something seriously wrong but he *wouldn't* mind someone telling him his friends were okay.

"Danh..."

Well, that was sure to get his question answered. He blinked in frustration and he turned his head slightly to the side as Lil' Missy disappeared from his field of vision. He tried to grab at her arm to halt her progression, groaning when the impulse gave absolutely nothing in the way of movement. But she did stop, popping back to his bedside with a look that was filled with poorly hidden, compassionate pity. He wanted to pound his fist into the mattress, was startled when he thought he felt the rustle of cotton beneath his fingers. The nurse apparently didn't notice anything, bending away again and returning with a plastic cup and straw. She lifted it to his lips and she brushed the thin tube from the nasal cannulae aside he hadn't even known he had. It was really bad, then.

He took a couple quick swallows, then ejected the straw and opened his mouth to try talking again. "I have to -"

"Just rest. Doctor Sicora will be here momentarily," the nurse interrupted. "You've been unconscious for over twenty-four hours."

"No, you don't understand," Jack said, voice coming out a weak whisper. He raised his head a fraction of an inch off the pillow. He had to flop back down when his neck muscles quivered as if he was a baby. He blew out a breath. "Others, like me...need help. You need to call Cheyenne Mountain."

"Actually, we've been in contact with them." A male voice approached and Jack moved his head a little to look at the man he assumed was Doctor Sicora. "They're aware you're here."

He relaxed slightly at the news, taking it as a sign General Hammond knew about the...problem he was experiencing. With any luck, the base commander had already checked in with Carter and Daniel and they were okay. Not like him. They were probably all on their way to whichever hospital he had been taken. Any minute, they'd come racing into the room, as fit as ever. He was deluding himself and he knew it.

"Are you feeling any pain?" Sicora picked up a clipboard from the end of the bed and scanning it with a detached, professional expression.

Because the question was asked, Jack supposed he was expected to feel something other than numbness. He clutched at the possibility they had medicated him so thoroughly that the paralysis was a result of that, not the armbands. He almost shook his head 'no' but stopped when he became aware of a niggling, nondescript sensation. A full body ache, breaking through the deadness of his limbs. Not-quite- deadness, he corrected, concentrating on moving his hand.

"Colonel O'Neill? Any pain?" the doctor repeated, professionalism notching into concern.

"None that I can't handle," he said, too devoted to his task to pay much attention to the doctor.

"What does that mean?"

His hand moved! The monitor hooked up to his heart beeped faster at his excitement translated into a physiological response. It also brought an upsurge of intensity to the dull ache, escalating it to a coiling sharpness, and he grunted in discomfort.

"I'm feeling something but it's not too bad yet."

"Yet is the key word. I'm going to go ahead and give you something for the discomfort, as you seem in a bit of distress. Rachel?"

He didn't argue as Lil' Missy stepped up, syringe at the ready. He watched her insert it into his IV line and depress the plunger, while the pain escalated to another level of intensity. For the first time in his life, being strapped down to a bed and drugged to the gills didn't seem that bad an option. In fact, Jack wished the analgesic would kick in faster but the fog he'd felt upon waking up crawled back in slowly. He drifted toward it, closing his eyes.

"How long do you think he has?" Nurse Rachel said, her voice barely breaking through to his ears.

"I honestly can't say. I've never seen anything like this before - the rate of failure is astonishing. And terrifying. Even on life support, I think he'll be maxed out at a week. Poor bastard."

The words were damning and Jack wanted to protest, kick and scream that he wasn't dying. If he was dying then probably so were two other members of his team. Family. He tried to open his eyes but the darkness pulled at him, vicious and strong.

"Doctor, an Air Force general just showed up at the desk, demanding to see you about this Jack O'Neill guy."

The voice was muffled by distance but still rang clear in Jack's ears. He opened his eyes. He waited for vital additional information - that accompanying said Air Force general were an Air Force major, a guy in geek's clothing and a linebacker who spoke funny.

None came. His head spun with the painkiller's effects and the worst-case scenarios every commander had nightmares about. He faded, uncertain whether or not he still had a team.

~~~~~~~~~~

The error was inexcusable, the consequential delay unacceptable. Hammond really didn't know what had possessed him to believe his rank in the Air Force would expedite Jack's transfer, or Doctor Warner's for that matter. It wasn't significant who he was, or who Jack was for that matter. To these doctors and nurses, the only thing of importance was the care of a critically ill patient, including concern for his welfare while under the roof of this hospital. Hell, they wanted the same thing as he. He commended their tenacity and ethics, and he'd let them know that someday. But today he was pissed as all get out.

"What do you mean you won't authorize the move?"

"Pretty much what it sounds like, sir. Colonel O'Neill's condition is far too serious to even entertain the idea," Doctor Raymond Sicora said. "Doctor Warner, I'm sure you concur with me?"

"I understand your concern. However, Memorial does not have access to the necessary equipment for the best care possible. I agree Colonel O'Neill's condition is dire. I believe we should be allowed to take him to where he'd receive the top treatment," Doctor Warner said. "I can have my chief medical officer contact you if you need further confirmation."

"So, because you, the general here and this mysterious Doctor Fraiser have wings on your shoulders or whatever, I'm supposed to roll over and let a critically ill patient be moved unnecessarily?"

Hammond bristled, unaccustomed to hearing anyone other than Jack O'Neill speak so flippantly in his presence. He gritted his teeth and struggled to maintain composure at the rapidly deteriorating conversation. This all was ridiculous. Point blank - he needed to get Jack to the SGC as quickly as humanly possible and his patience at this roadblock had just expired. At least Warner had been allowed into the ICU and had been able to administer the serum, for what it was worth. He hadn't been able to read anything useful from the doctor's face upon his return.

"You're exactly right, Doctor. But wings or not, moving Jack is not an unnecessary maneuver. I assure you, we have only his health in mind. As Doctor Warner indicated, we have equipment at our facilities that can best help him. Every second we stand here haggling is another second off his life. Correct me if I'm wrong but the idea is to help patients, is it not?"

Sicora looked at him suspiciously, obviously weighing the validity of his words. Hammond called up as much iron will as he could, which was not a difficult task given the situation and his frustration. He made sure his gray eyes hardened to reflect his inner resolve. At this point, he was even considering using force. Anything to get this one simple task done. He itched to see Jack, verify to himself the colonel was still alive and would stay that way. Doctor Warner's expressionless mask was cracking, revealing grimness he assumed was brought on by worry for Jack. And Sam and Daniel. With a deep sigh, the civilian doctor finally conceded.

"Very well. I'll begin the paperwork."

"Actually, I'd recommend you forego that and arrange the ambulance instead," Doctor Warner asserted. Hammond was very glad he had the support. "I assure you, the red tape will be taken care of in due time."

"But -"

"Time is of the essence, is it not, Doctor?" Hammond stated. He felt lighter in body and spirit now that *action* was being taken. It would not be in vain. "Let's make this as quick as possible. For Colonel O'Neill's sake."

A scowl and reluctant nod were his only answers as the civilian doctor began moving away, Doctor Warner in his wake. Breathing a sigh of relief, he watched them rapidly stride toward the colonel's room and fought the urge to join them. He'd only be in the way and as much as he needed visual verification that his man was alive, he could not allow anything he did to interfere. Stiffly pacing the hall, he clenched and unclenched his fists in his customary self-therapeutic way.

His wife had always blessed his strong fingers and the massages he was able to perform with them. She would have positively cooed at his ministrations now, such a great number of workouts his hands had endured while he served this command. Unfortunately, that had been the only true benefit of his nervous habit and now it was as useless as the habit itself. He banged his clenched fist into his hip, staring down at the floor. He glanced up when his feet took him to the nurse's station, catching the charge nurse eyeing him with a slight frown. She motioned for him to join her, and he abandoned his path.

"Sir? I took the liberty of drawing up the paperwork while you were...discussing the patient's release with Doctor Sicora. I must apologize for him. He's a bit overbearing and stubborn at times," she said quietly. "I think under these circumstances your signature should be acquired, as well as your doctor's. If you could just - "

He took the pen she offered, scrawling his name next to a big red X. Impressed with her prudence, Hammond smiled at her tightly. "Thank you, Ms....?"

"My name is Laura."

"Thank you, Laura. There's no need to apologize for Doctor Sicora. He takes his job seriously, and his concerns are legitimate."

"Yes, sir," Laura nodded, glancing down the hallway.

Hammond followed her gaze. He saw an entourage led by Doctors Warner and Sicora approaching. He couldn't see Jack yet, and was suddenly struck by a reversal of his earlier urge for the chance to see his man. He stomped down on his own cowardice and moved away from the nurse's desk, directly in the path of the traveling hospital bed. He felt horror build within again. The man on the bed looked so unlike Colonel O'Neill that at first Hammond wondered if they'd made an error in identification. Colorless, gaunt cheeks were bad enough, but what struck him was the immobility. As with Major Carter and Doctor Jackson, the lifeless appearance was further reaching than simple physical signs. It seemed to dive within the entire essence of the man, to the point he questioned whether the colonel was indeed still alive. Just like the others. He shivered, moving out of the way as the group made its way to the service elevator.

Wait. He started as he realized Jack's eyes were open, his gaze unfocused. He stepped up to the side of the bed as it continued to move, searching Jack's face for indications of sight and wondered if Janet had been wrong in her assessment. If Jack was blind like Sam, then maybe the virus truly was still attacking all organs without discretion and that this was all an exercise in futility.

"Sir...Daniel? Carter?" Hammond blinked, both relieved at Jack's consciousness and sickened that he had no good news to relay. Bending slightly at the waist, he leaned in closer and shook his head once. Jack closed his eyes with a hissed, "God."

"They were found in their homes not more than an hour ago. Doctor Fraiser hadn't been able to complete her tests before I came here, but she's working on the problem, Jack. Anise informed us about the armbands' effects. I'm sure..." he trailed off, unable to stretch the truth to meet all their needs. He *wasn't* sure, they still didn't know anything, and there was no way to disguise either of those things.

Jack didn't open his eyes again. Hammond reached down to clasp Jack's forearm. He clenched his jaw in dismay when the touch garnered no reaction. He looked at the new slackness of Jack's features, hoping it was the cause of the absent reaction rather than the loss of feeling in his limbs as they had suspected might happen. His eyes and ears were reserved for the colonel, the friend, lying so motionless, as if watching and listening would somehow help Jack hold onto life. The unusual frailty he saw tore at him and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the vocal evidence of his anger inside

Concentrating so deeply, he didn't even realize they'd successfully navigated Jack into the waiting ambulance and he'd scrambled into it alongside his downed officer. Doctor Warner's voice was muffled in his ears, giving instructions to the paramedics as the doors slammed shut, and then they were off. Without medical knowledge, Hammond couldn't tell precisely what was going on in the whirlwind of activity around him. He didn't need it to know it was bad – that something had changed with Jack's condition, and it had happened suddenly. His mind started to drift to the SGC infirmary, to Sam and Daniel, projecting negatives and letting his imagination get away from him.

"Cell phone? Sir, do you have a cell phone?"

The tone was impatient, and he snapped his gaze from Jack's face at Doctor Warner's now harsh voice, apparently directed at him. "What? Oh, yes. What do you need?"

"Get Fraiser on the phone."

Without thought, he dialed and maneuvered through the NORAD and SGC switchboard personnel. When done, he handed his phone to the terse doctor and returned his attention to Jack. Hammond knew he should listen to the conversation to be apprised but couldn't make himself. He reached out a tentative hand and placed it on Jack's forearm once more. He squeezed gently. The skin beneath his fingers was cool, lifeless. He rubbed his free hand across his hairless crown and bowed his head in a brief moment of exhaustion and fear.

"Just hold on a little longer, Jack. We're almost there," he whispered. He turned to Warner. "What's happening?"

"I'm not sure, sir. His heart rate is suddenly all over the place and we can't seem to get it under control."

No sooner had the message been imparted than the ambulance was screeching to a halt, the paramedics and Warner leaping into action again. He numbly watched them pull Jack away, saw the white-clad orderlies ready and waiting, and then he was running behind them. To the infirmary. To Doctor Fraiser. Everything was going to be fine. It was. Jack was going to be okay and so was the rest of his team. Anything else was unthinkable. Making himself as small as possible, Hammond ducked into the corner of the elevator.

"Damnit, I think he's crashing!" Doctor Warner hissed as the doors slid open.

Crashing?

Hammond didn't have time to process anything else, just kept on in the wake of the grim procession. Saw Doctor Fraiser's worried face upon entrance into the infirmary, syringe of glowing yellow in her hand. He scrunched up his forehead in confused consternation as she dropped it back onto the tray. He wondered why she had done so. He stood at the door, unable to make his feet carry him all the way into the room as a dizzying amount of activity surrounded Jack. This was all happening too fast.

"I lost the heartbeat. Shit, he's not breathing! Get him hooked up, now!"

God. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the limp, unresponsive body. It was an image that would haunt him for years, he was certain. A cool hand on his bare elbow pulled him away from the grim scene, away from the sight of Colonel O'Neill dying before his eyes. Hammond turned his head and was greeted by a wall of solid muscle. Teal'c. The Jaffa appeared calm but he saw the characteristic jaw twitch and the unusual paleness of the big man's skin. He nodded, then turned his attention back to the struggle to keep Jack alive, stomach curling in fear. This couldn't happen. It couldn't.

It *was* happening and he was powerless.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nowhere.

She was getting absolutely nowhere. It had only been half an hour since General Hammond had gone for Colonel O'Neill, Janet reasoned. That wasn't a great length of time under usual circumstances. These, however, were not usual circumstances. There was something to the idea of the virus attacking specific regions of the body, she knew it, the unverified knowledge eating at her like acid. She stared at the inconclusive test results for Sam and Daniel and just couldn't figure it out. There was no distinguishable, physical proof to back up what she believed she had witnessed during their brief periods of wakefulness. She had only detected a slight variation in the depreciation factor. It was possible, of course, that she was completely incorrect in her earlier assumptions, an idea which only increased her anxiety because it meant her friends' bodies would fail entirely. And soon. Time and uncertainty were combining together into a formidable, cruel enemy.

"Damnit. There has to be something," she muttered under her breath. "I have to be able to do something!"

Her heart couldn't agree. Both Sam and Daniel had received two injections of the Atenik serum, and while the degradation in their tissue had slowed, it hadn't stopped. Each hour she spent futilely trying to solve this problem was another hour of their lives slipping away and it would soon be past the point of no return. Stomach lurching, Janet once again thought of Colonel O'Neill and wished she had been able to leave the SGC to get him herself. At least she would have been able to see for herself if he was...if he was... God, she couldn't imagine the colonel reduced to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Or Sam sightless. Or Daniel losing all the knowledge he'd worked so hard to obtain.

Lost in thought, Janet didn't realize someone was in the room with her until there was a light touch on her left arm. She jumped, turning and discovering Anise at her side. Freya, rather, her big eyes doeing with an overabundance of sympathy. She glared at the woman.

"Back to do more damage?"

To Janet's somewhat inappropriate pleasure, Freya stepped back with an audible gasp. "I wished only to lend assistance."

"Oh, you're not just an archaeologist? You can tell me what I can do to stop this thing you put into my people from killing them now? Or, barring that, something that won't have them lose important traits like sight, or intellect, or muscle function?"

"I had planned on reviewing my notes regarding the Ateniks, in case I had missed something upon the first several reviews. I will do so elsewhere."

"A good idea!"

She watched Freya beat a fast path from her lab, heaving a regretful sigh at her harshness. It really was unfair of her to release pent up anger and frustration on the Tok'ra scientist, but the Anise/Freya combo was such an easy scapegoat. Janet rubbed her forehead with a latex wrapped hand and picked up the sample of Sam's blood once again. One thing she knew was true: no matter where the blame or what she suspected as an outcome she could not stop trying. Not until, God help them all, she had no more patients to treat. It was time to start accentuating the positive, eliminating the negative, as the song said.

"Doctor Fraiser, come quickly," a deep voice suddenly intruded on her newly optimistic thoughts. She looked up to find Jacob Carter in the door, looking ruffled and distraught. The general continued, "It's Daniel, he's awake."

Yes! She deposited the vial of blood safely back into its holder and whipped off her gloves. She pulled out a fresh pair and followed the general back into the infirmary. As she rounded the corner of the doorway, the sound of Teal'c's deep, rumbling voice greeted her, though he was speaking so softly she couldn't distinguish the actual message. His meaning was clear to her, etched subtly across his face; anyone who didn't know him would fail to see the true depth of his concern. Despite knowing what she would find based on that expression, she darted her gaze to Daniel and uselessly prayed for any indication of intelligible response.

There was no movement at all, and the only sound Daniel gave was a whimper that was far too frail for her liking. Imagining the amount of pain that would come with multiple organ failure was not difficult to do, and she wondered if it was already time to increase the analgesic dosage. Time was going too fast. This was all happening at a rate that would ultimately be SG-1's undoing - she hadn't even determined if there were components of the serum that could be tweaked to compensate for their physiology. She could really use Sam's help...

Automatically looking at Sam, Janet cringed at the continued stillness she saw in her friend's features. Her mind journeyed to Colonel O'Neill despite her attempts to steer away both from the general's excursion to find him and speculating about how advanced his condition might be. No! Damnit, what had she just told herself? This fluctuation between hope and despair wasn't helping anyone. She couldn't let despair reign. Noticing Teal'c had Daniel's right hand between both of his, Janet gave him a quick smile and then focused her attention on bedridden man. To her relief, she saw recognition in his slightly open, hooded eyes. At least a glimmer.

"Hey, welcome back, Daniel," she whispered, checking his monitors for giveaways of distress. His heart rate was slightly accelerated but she couldn't say that was more than from simply waking up disoriented. "Just relax; can you do that for me?"

He did the opposite, feebly swishing around and raising his head off the pillow. Confused fear replaced recognition as his eyes widened blearily. Breathing squeakily, Daniel tugged his shoulders even further off the bed. Janet easily pressed him back into a prone position, whispering words in a soothing tone and hoping he could interpret at least that. He seemed to settle down, gusts of his shaky breath tickling the hair around her right ear as she leaned in closely to steal a semi-hug. For her own reassurance as much as his. She could feel his heartbeat reverberate into her, and to her horror it seemed to bounce erratically. God, what more could go wrong?

Pulling away, she verified her suspicions on his monitor, its beeping suddenly registering in her ears. She looked quickly to Daniel's face, finding it once again lax with unconsciousness. Damn, internally he was not calm at all. For a second, Janet just stood there like an idiot and watched the numbers unevenly rise and fall. Skip. Falter. Goddamnit. She swung her gaze to Sam, apprehensive she'd find the same signs. General Carter hovered over his daughter but she didn't appear distressed.

"Doctor Fraiser, what is happening?" Teal'c asked, yet more proof of his troubled state. He was usually the strong, silent, stay out of the way sort.

She wished she had an answer for him. What she would give to have an answer for him! Biting her lip, Janet merely shook her head and beckoned for the on duty staff. That heart rate needed to be stabilized, but with the Atenik serum, painkillers and sedative already in his bloodstream she was wary of adding yet another chemical to the mix. Choiceless. She opened her mouth to spit out her order when Daniel took it upon himself to even out...

Into a frighteningly flat line.

"Come on, Daniel!" She began flattening his slightly elevated bed in preparation for the resuscitation effort. "Get a crash cart over here!"

As the cart was being wheeled over, Janet pressed her hands on Daniel's chest, thrusting as if the mere action would be enough to coerce his heart to beat again. This shouldn't be happening. Nothing, *nothing* in his or Sam's tests had shown their bodies to be this close to breakdown. No, Daniel, no, she thought, you will *not* do this. She mentally repeated the words in time with her frustrated compressions, her movements becoming more and more frenetic. It couldn't have been more than five seconds, the defibrillator already whining in near readiness. She slammed Daniel once with her right fist, harder than she'd truly intended but sometimes a big jolt was enough to prevent the use of electric shock.

"Come on, come on!" she repeated her earlier order to the unresponsive man.

She was painfully aware of the irony of the situation - if it took her too long to revive him, Daniel could suffer brain damage, which was an all too similar fate to that he might experience anyway. Rock. Hard place. Lose either of those ways or, worse, lose completely. Goddamnit, she was doing it again! Heaving back, Janet let one last thump land in the middle of Daniel's chest.

Nothing.

"Paddles!" She tore Daniel's hospital gown down to reveal his motionless chest. "Come on, Daniel. Don't do this to me! Damnit, I said *paddles*!"

The faint whine of the defibrillator peaked, and she was handed the paddles as Daniel's bare chest was prepared. Knuckles white around the handles, Janet clenched her jaw tightly. This was not going to happen. It didn't make sense. He was fine he was fine he was fine. Lifting her hands up in preparation, she was dismayed to see how shaky they looked. Now was not the time to think about her friend. This was just a patient, she was just doing her job. He was faceless, nameless. Not Daniel. She couldn't think about him. She couldn't think about any of them.

"Clear!" she shouted, and placed the charged devices on Dan...her patient.

Janet thumbed the switches. She began pressing them to unleash the brutal and necessary jolt of electricity into the unresponsive form, when suddenly a new sound greeted her ears. Was that, could it be? Please... Yes, struggling, but there! Janet nearly slumped on top of the prone man lying on the bed before her, relief jelling her muscles. She lifted the paddles away from him, replacing them on the portable resuscitator.

"Good job, Doctor Jackson," she muttered. "We've got a steady rhythm, people."

For now.

She leaned heavily against the bed's rails and took a much-needed minute to breathe before quickly examining her patie...Daniel. He could be Daniel again now. Everything was back to the way it was before, which was still far from good, but at least stable. Amazed, she turned at last to Teal'c and Jacob, who looked highly worse for wear. They bore identical expressions of pain and fear, their gazes flowing from Daniel to Sam, obviously drawing the same conclusion she was trying not to dwell on.

"What was that?" General Carter asked, breaking the silence after a minute. He ran a hand across his bald head in a manner so similar to General Hammond Janet had to do a double take. "Is that going to happen to Sam?"

"Right now, you know as much as I do, sir," Janet admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. "I don't know why that happened. It shouldn't have, and there's no definitive way to say if we can expect the same with Sam."

"Screw this 'if' business. Teal'c, will you take me to the healing device now? I will not stand around and watch my daughter and her friend...friends fade away when the answer could be right under our noses!"

Healing device! She hadn't even thought...

"Indeed," Teal'c said, startling her so with the fervor of his tone that she nearly started giggling inappropriately.

God, she was tired. A couple of hours ago, she might have objected to use Goa'uld technology on a disease spawned by anti-Goa'uld technology, but now? Now she didn't think it could possibly do any more damage.

"Do it," she said. "The serum is obviously not helping much and it can't -"

"Doctor Fraiser! I have Doctor Warner for you," Lieutenant Wells called suddenly, holding the infirmary phone in the air.

Janet dashed toward her, swiping the phone and lifting it to her ear. Good news. It had to be good news. "This is Fraiser."

"Janet, we'll be arriving momentarily with Colonel O'Neill. I advise you have a dose of the serum ready for immediate injection. The first was administered successfully but I don't like the numbers he's throwing," Warner snapped, disconnecting before she had the chance to reply.

Stunned for a few moments at the uncharacteristic panic she'd heard in her colleague's voice, she stood and stared straight ahead. Not good, not good. She took meager comfort in the fact the missing colonel was on his way, and still alive. She let her eyes gravitate toward the empty space next to Daniel's bed, already prepared for the last member of SG-1. Nonetheless, she went over and made sure the Atenik fluid was on the tray. She knew she should expect the worst. She squared her shoulders and watched the door as if that would affect how quickly Colonel O'Neill made it down there.

"Doctor Fraiser, is there any way I may - " Teal'c started.

"Just watch them, Teal'c. Let us handle the colonel," she cut him off with harsh tones and a sympathetic face.

He simply tipped his head to the side in mute understanding, and she gave him a grim smile of apology. Her stomach roiled in sick anticipation of what she felt sure would be disaster rolling through the door and she had to swallow down sharp bile. What seemed like hours later, Doctor Warner came barreling into the infirmary, the gurney holding Colonel O'Neill rolling alongside him. With a frown, Janet looked at the wall clock and had the inane thought that her shift just officially started. And she had no idea when it was going to end.

That was up to her friends - whether they lived or died.

~~~~~~~~~~

Teal'c fought against instinct to run to O'Neill's side and join the resuscitation effort. As when Daniel Jackson was...dying, reason asserted itself. He must do as Doctor Fraiser suggested and remain by his other two teammates' sides to watch them for additional signs of suffering. He could not curtail the fear he felt for Major Carter, as the pattern did indeed seem to be holding. Beside him, he could sense Jacob Carter's tension as together they watched the tableau unfurl before them. He did not question that O'Neill would be revived because to do so would be the ultimate betrayal. His faith was the only thing he could provide his friends, as intangible as it was.

He caught sight of General Hammond lingering at the doorway with an expression of deep pain darkening his features. Never before had he seen the commander of the SGC in such a state, and to see it now was terrible. Decisively, Teal'c moved toward the other man and grasped his elbow. Uncertain of how the general would react to such an action, he waited for reprisal but received only a slight glance and a nod. Powerlessness was not a feeling with which he was accustomed, nor was it something with which he wished to become familiar. He sensed the same was true for his companion, and for Jacob Carter.

Unable to watch the disturbing scene any longer, Teal'c abruptly spun on his heel. He vacated the infirmary and its damning cacophony of alarms. He stalked through the halls with no clear destination in mind, until he realized there was something he could do. Instantly changing his path, he briskly made his way to the safe which housed the Goa'uld hand and healing devices. Like Jacob Carter, he found it intolerable to watch another friend succumb to the misfortune experienced by Daniel and now O'Neill. Misfortune. He scoffed at his own understatement, and the reminder was enough to expedite his task in order to return to the infirmary. Torture though it may be, he should be at his friends' sides.

He encountered no resistance in his retrieval effort, quickly gathering up the possible key to SG-1's survival and jogging back to the infirmary. Finding the room in an eerie silence, a complete opposite state from when he had left only minutes ago, Teal'c clenched his fist in dread. His eyes lit upon first O'Neill, then the medical personnel attaching leads to his body. He relaxed at the proof of sustained life.

"Teal'c," General Hammond greeted. "He's okay."

The vocalization was not only for him. Every person in the room seemed to require it. It did not thwart the unspoken sentiment that O'Neill would not continue to be okay. Teal'c stepped closer to his friends, proffering the item he had retrieved to Jacob Carter, who clasped Major Carter's hand with grim determination and worry. Teal'c felt great sorrow for the other man, knowing that if he himself was torn up inside at the fate of his friends, Jacob Carter must feel much more so regarding his daughter.

"We must believe she will survive, General Carter," he said, deliberately excluding Daniel and O'Neill for the other man's benefit. "That is the only acceptable outcome."

"I wish I had your confidence. After what happened to Daniel...and now Jack? Third time's the charm. What if the same happens to Sam and they can't get her back?" Jacob Carter asked, doubt making him sound aged.

"What about Daniel?" a third voice sounded from behind.

Pivoting, Teal'c saw General Hammond shakily walking toward them. He ushered the general to the chair he had formerly occupied, worried when the stout man fell weakly into it. Raising an eyebrow, he surveyed both generals, noting their peaked appearances. They could not endure much more tension without the aid of sleep, he was certain. Unfortunately, he did not believe anyone or anything could prompt them to leave now. Nor could he himself be removed from the infirmary. Not again. Not while his friends clung so tenuously to life.

"Before Colonel O'Neill arrived, Daniel also crashed, sir," Doctor Fraiser said tiredly, joining the trio. "Both of them were extremely fortunate to come back on their own, and relatively quickly."

"What is going on with them, Doctor?" General Hammond asked. "Has the virus spread in spite of the Atenik serum?"

A brief flicker of harassed irritation lit upon Doctor Fraiser's face for a millisecond and Teal'c could not fault her. There had been no time between the incidents for her to make an assessment, though of this fact General Hammond could not have been aware.

"That has not been determined, General Hammond," Teal'c answered for the doctor. "It had been agreed upon that we allow Jacob Carter an attempt to use the healing device only a few moments prior to O'Neill's arrival."

"Oh."

"And nothing personal to you or Selmac, General Carter, but I think we should hold off on...treatment for Daniel and Colonel O'Neill. I'd like them stable for at least half an hour."

"What about Sam?"

"Well, given how closely the other two defibs coincided, I have to believe she might not follow the same pattern. I think she should have already crashed. It's possible the existence of the Tok'ra marker in her system has helped her as much as the serum." Doctor Fraiser stopped, rapping her knuckles at the foot of Daniel Jackson's bed. "Knock on wood."

"Is that a medically certified term, Doc?" Jacob Carter retorted. He turned the healing tool over in one complete revolution, an expression Teal'c thought to be disgust flowing across his face. "I'd rather not wait any longer, if that's all right with you."

"Just let me get set up in case this doesn't work." Doctor Fraiser walked over and toyed with the crash cart. Jacob Carter stiffened his shoulders, making the doctor quickly recant. "Not that I don't think it will."

As Doctor Fraiser quickly gathered the defibrillator and a new array of syringes, Teal'c walked to stand in between his other two friends' beds. He wished to be close but did not want to be in the way. General Hammond took up position on the far side of O'Neill and caught his eye. They shared another understanding look. So much depended upon Jacob Carter's success that the weight of it burdened the room. It struck him as anomalous that such trepidation was bestowed on a regularly beneficial course of action, and yet he could not alleviate the feeling. He should be inured to that particular disposition, as it had plagued him since going to O'Neill's house so many hours ago. In reality, too few hours ago.

With a deep breath, Jacob Carter lifted his hands and placed them over his daughter's forehead for a brief moment, then moved them down until they hovered above her chest. Teal'c nearly flinched at the orange glow radiating over Major Carter's face, the tint giving her pale features a grotesque appearance. His unease grew. He shifted his gaze to the man holding the instrument to find a face grimaced in either discomfort or uncertainty, forehead deeply creased. Beneath the ministrations, Major Carter began to stir, muscles tautening. He clenched his jaw tightly, glancing up at the clock. When he turned back, Jacob Carter discontinued his ministration and slumped his shoulders.

"Jake?" General Hammond asked, apparently sensing the same unusual feeling throughout and now after the process.

"There's so much damage, George."

It was not difficult for his mind to leap to the conclusion that Jacob Carter had not been wholly successful. Teal'c refuted the thought before it could fully take shape in his mind and left his position. He walked around to stand at the foot of Major Carter's bed. She looked no different than she did prior to the healing device's use, skin gaunt and china white. The thought resurged, taking mighty control in both his mind and stomach, which swished unpleasantly.

"Too much?" Doctor Fraiser said.

"No, not too much," Jacob Carter assured, and Teal'c relaxed infinitesimally. "But it was still more difficult and draining to do than it should have been. It was as if something in her was highly resistant, but I couldn't get a feel for what exactly. Something about her eyes."

"Were you able to completely heal Major Carter?" Teal'c said.

"I think so. We'll know in time - I know she doesn't look it right now. I managed to heal the internal damage, but not the subsequent effects of it. She's going to be weak for a while."

"What about the rest of SG-1?"

Jacob Carter shifted on his feet, resting a hip on Major Carter's bed. For the first time, Teal'c noticed the other man appeared abnormally peaked from his efforts. "I can't do the same for them yet, I need a little rest. Selmac does, too. I may be able to help a little right away, buy some time."

"I'd really like to verify Sam's condition first anyway, sirs. By then, the colonel and Daniel will have had time to prove their stability," Doctor Fraiser said, optimism back in her tone contradicted her cautionary words. "There are too many variables to assume General Carter and Selmac were successful without some sort of check."

"No harm has befallen Major Carter as of yet." Teal'c could not see the purpose of delay when time was so crucial. "Would it not be wise to allow aid for O'Neill and Daniel Jackson while you determine her health, Doctor Fraiser?"

Uncertainty flared on Doctor Fraiser's face, an unusual expression. She blinked slowly, watching Doctor Warner collect another blood sample from Major Carter. Watching her features change as she contemplated his suggestion, Teal'c clenched his jaw.

"You might be right, Teal'c. Maybe we should."

"I agree, Doctor Fraiser," Doctor Warner stated.

Teal'c was grateful for the support. He relaxed his tense muscles.

"Good," General Hammond said.

"Very well." The deep timbre of Selmac sounded in place of Jacob Carter's normal tones as he moved to stand next to Daniel. His eyes lingered on Major Carter before turning to his new task. "I will begin."

As with Major Carter, the healing device was placed above Daniel's forehead before moving down to settle above his heart. The orange glow now promised the return of his team, and Teal'c clung unashamedly to the hope. He realized he had felt estranged from them since the Atenik armbands had first affected them like a narcotic and vowed he would not allow his own selfishly bad feelings hamper his relationships upon their recovery. It was ridiculous and...human of him to have succumbed to ill will. He was uncertain whether to be pleased or disturbed by that.

A sudden loud gasp emitted from Jacob Carter, whose hands jerked away from Daniel as though he was experiencing great pain.

"Selmac, you must not stop!"

Teal'c turned to find Anise standing in the doorway with her mouth agape, clutching a tattered journal in one hand and stretching the other out. He was barely aware of Doctor Fraiser and several nurses lunging toward Daniel's bed. All of these things seemed to happen at once, but none of them were of nearly as much consequence as the wailing monitors suddenly sirening through the infirmary. They were more than enough to prove to him something was seriously wrong with Daniel.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Selmac, you must not stop!"

An intense dissonance of sound marauded her ears, clogging her confused brain. Gasping, Sam struggled to open her eyes to see what was going on around her. The name Selmac finally registered its importance but it only seemed to increase her befuddlement. What was her father doing here?

"Damnit, everyone back! Clear the area now." Janet sounded determined. And afraid. What was going on?

Wait, she felt different. Mildly better.

"Not again! Have it ready and charged, people!"

Again? Charged? Her questions were answered by a high-pitched, helter-skelter beeping that she instantly recognized. But she felt fine, so it couldn't be coming from...oh, God! Anise was here. Daniel or Colonel O'Neill? Spurred by fear, Sam opened her eyes to confounding grayness. No, not all gray - she could see the outline of a light above her head. Wasn't important now, she had to know if it was either of her teammates who were in trouble. Or both of them. The flurry of activity surrounding the adjacent bed was easily discernable but she couldn't make out the unmoving form lying on it.

"Jake, what happened?"

"It was like with Sam, only stronger. I'm sorry, George, Selmac couldn't hold on."

"We must!"

"Anise?"

"Give me the healer."

The conversation was as scary as the heart rate tripping loudly in her cottony ears though, unlike the pulse, it was steady in its rapid flow. Sam didn't understand either.

"Doctor Fraiser?"

She finally pinpointed another voice - General Hammond. She located his shape based on sound, saw a big brown and green blur standing next to him. Teal'c. The small form leaning over whoever was in the bed was likely Janet. Massing around her was a sea of white and the earth-toned figures of Anise and her father. Bursting orange invaded the hazy picture, throwing her off.

"D-dad?" Sam asked at last, needing someone to tell her. Some, any, everything.

"Major Carter," Teal'c rumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear above the shrieking machines.

As one, three lumps moved away from the bedlam toward her. She squinted at them, barely making out tense features as she isolated her father's shape and kept her vision there. Foggy vision notwithstanding, Sam could see how tired he looked and, considering how much better she felt, she quickly grasped that he had healed her failing organs. But that didn't tell her what she needed to know. Mustering up enough energy to lift her heavy head about half an inch off the pillow, she tried to look through her bank of guardian angels at the distressed person.

"Who?"

"Hey, Sam," her dad said, patently ignoring her question in favor of brushing a warm hand across her forehead. "How are you doing, kiddo?"

How was she doing? Did he really think he could distract her from...his face was suddenly really close to hers, eyes deep with his own need for distraction. And, she thought, guilt. She blinked and let her head drop back down, exhausted by the simple movement. Something about her pervasive weakness was wrong. Didn't the healing devices usually heal as good as new? Maybe that was what was wrong with...

"Who?" she repeated with more force.

"It is too late," Anise's resigned voice came from behind.

Too late? Oh, God. Roaring in her ears subverted her ability to hear the wailing machines but she knew what the sounds meant even without clear resolution. Slowly, the pieces came together to create an image she didn't like. Selmac and her dad had expended so much energy on her that they now couldn't heal the colonel and Daniel. And Anise apparently couldn't either. She couldn't be right.

"Then get out of my way so I can do my job!" Janet snapped.

"It does not matter what -"

"I don't want to hear that."

Nauseated by the frantic inflection in Janet's voice, Sam rolled to her side to get a better view. A solid wall of Tok'ra taupe field wear and several pairs of hands met her move. She had very little energy but will that wouldn't end, and she sent as much of it over to her friend as she could in the pathetic hope that just this once the intangible act would work. Please. Please. Please. She repeated the word in the steady pattern she wanted to hear from those machines, adding a physical touch to the intangible as if that would increase the chances of success.

To her surprise, it did seem to work. The urgency of the monitors' beeping and resonating seemed to wane. Of course, she knew it had little to do with her and she had to be sure it wasn't hazy misperception on her part. Clumsily untangling her arm from the restraining hands, she pressed against her father's side in supplication for him to move. He did but it was of no use, Sam still couldn't see clearly enough to determine who was next to her.

"He's stabilizing. Pulse is weak but steady."

There was an audible expulsion of air from those around her bed, including Teal'c. Perturbed, she squinted up at her dad and readied herself to ask the question one last time.

"Anise, want to tell us what the hell is going on?" Ooh, that was the voice no one ever wanted to hear from Janet.

"When I took leave of the laboratory earlier, Doctor Fraiser, I brought along my notes regarding the Atenik civilization's demise. I thought perhaps to review it, in search of any item I missed or might possibly have misinterpreted," Anise explained, moving with Janet to stand above Sam's bed. Sam thought she heard Teal'c growl as the Tok'ra scientist paused to look at each of them. "I am ashamed to tell you that I did miss a passage that now seems quite vital."

"Vital?" General Hammond repeated when Anise paused.

Vital...God. What did that mean?

"It was at the end of the written history I found. The writing is nearly illegible. I had only been able to translate a few small portions of the passages, and the words did not appear to make sense. I forgot about it altogether."

"What did it say?" Janet prompted, sounding as though she had her teeth clenched.

"The words I deciphered were 'starve', 'death is life', and 'restore'. You can see that the words, when not applied to any context and scattered throughout several pages of text, are of little meaning. But when you consider what has just happened to Colonel O'Neill and Doctor Jackson they begin to become logical."

Sam didn't want to understand where Anise was going with exposition. Oh, no, she didn't. Closing her eyes, she let out pent up air, surprised when it came out as a mew. Her father instantly started combing his fingers through her hair, like he did when she was a little girl and sick. Janet appeared at her side, nervously checking her vitals and giving her tentative smiles.

"Hey, Sam. How are you feeling?"

Not now, Janet, Sam thought. *She* didn't matter, not in light of what Anise just said. She was fine. Right? Weakly, she flapped her hand in what she hoped was a good enough gesture to get the attention off her.

"Your vitals look good and your blood's being tested as we speak," Janet continued, apparently needing to feel some modicum of control.

Sam shook her head and knitted her eyebrows. "Janet, I'm okay. What's going on?"

"I don't think we know, Major Carter," General Hammond said. "What are you saying, Anise?" .

"Sir, I think she's saying we have to kill the virus before it kills him," Janet whispered and stopped fussing over her, leaning on her bed near her pillow, making Sam's head dip.

Oh, God.

"And how do we do that?"

"Sir, I..."

"There are references to Goa'uld technology, including the healing devices," Anise said. "It appears the Ateniks were able to capture a lesser Goa'uld and subsequently force him to heal some of their warriors. However, only those fully healed in one sitting recovered. Those partially healed, for whatever reason, were not so fortunate. The virus resurged with more strength than it initially had, attacking the newly healthy portions of the body. Death was not long in coming. There is one...no. I believe before any action is taken based on my interpretation, I must attempt to translate more of the document."

Too late. She'd said it was too late! And why, damnit, hadn't all this been discovered before they'd agreed to the experiment? Too late. Sam hadn't even been privy to the goings-on but she knew. She knew.

"What does that mean?" General Hammond said. He knew as well, Sam thought, though he might not want to admit it. "It was less than a minute from Selmac's attempt to yours!"

"It means that there is still hope for Colonel O'Neill," Anise said.

Oh.

Oh, Daniel.

~~~~~~~~~~

Anise had made mistake after mistake with these armbands. This had to be another. She couldn't possibly be right. Shakily, Hammond reached out a hand, leaning heavily on Sam's bed He looked at the ill major, and where he should feel relief at her apparent recovery he could only mirror the horrified perplexity on her waxen face. Beside him, Teal'c growled again, emotions dangerously close to the surface.

"What Anise meant to say is that Colonel O'Neill can still have the virus eradicated by means of a healing device. That option no longer exists for Doctor Jackson." Hammond blinked at Freya's appearance. Her tone was softer than Anise's but no more welcome in her message. "The journal indicates the Atenik scientists discovered another method but it only worked seventy percent of the time. And those it did work on were wiped out by the Goa'uld anyway."

Not the greatest odds but certainly not the worst. Impatience rose, as neither Anise nor Freya seemed ready to reveal the important information - specifically what could be done for Daniel. He didn't hold out much hope that he would like it, given the catchwords she had chosen to highlight earlier. Death is life. Death is life.

"You seem to know an awful lot without translating more of your document. Perhaps you'd do us the favor of sharing that with us," he said, tired of the hesitancy. Anything she could reveal would not be as bad as the outcome for Daniel if they did nothing. He felt like a broken record as he continued, "If what you're saying is true, time is even more critical."

Freya examined the floor. If he didn't know any better, he would say her motion was one of remorse. It was, of course, merely her way of prefacing the appearance of Anise and he supposed he should be grateful for the courtesy. He wasn't. He glanced over to Daniel, still surrounded by medical personnel, wanting to disguise his displeasure and disgust with the entire situation. All it did was make the pang in his chest increase as he realized that only two of the ill members of SG-1 might survive this ordeal. Unacceptable. Anise had goddamn better well fix this. Snorting under his breath at his juvenile thoughts, he tore his eyes away from the archaeologist and looked at Jack instead. Still not out of the woods, but he would be. Small comfort.

"Very well, General Hammond," Anise said, and, as he suspected, started to reveal much more than she had led them to believe she knew. "Thus far, I would say the only way to kill the virus is to eliminate it from Doctor Jackson's system."

"What. Are. You. Saying?" he said irritably. He had an idea what she meant, but he didn't want to be anywhere near correct. He was tempted to retract his question. Plug his ears and close his eyes.

"She's saying we have to let him die, sir," Janet murmured, shattering his bubble before he'd even had the chance to shelter himself within it.

Let him die, death is life. God, he so did not want to actually hear that. Playing obtuse was a tactic that never worked, and he was an idiot for even attempting it. Sam let out a weak cry and Janet placed a hand on the other woman's shoulder, squeezing. He seemed to feel the action, too, but it was not calming. It was constricting, his lungs impacted with sick sympathetic pain instead of his shoulder.

"The text I have translated tells of several instances where Atenik warriors survived the illness despite the captured Goa'uld's failure to completely heal them. However, it was only after their hearts had arrested for a considerable length of time - the virus apparently only affects the living body. Once the warriors were clinically dead, it disappeared."

Convenient.

"This discovery was completely accidental, as most things in science are. Upon successful revival, the warriors made a steady recovery. Unfortunately for the Ateniks, this was a rare occurrence. In their weakened states, many could not be revived."

The explanation did little to help him recover from the abrupt announcement. Nothing. He still couldn't catch a breath to save his life. What an inappropriate turn of phrase.

"It wasn't more specific on how long a person has to be asystole before the virus is starved out of the body?" Janet asked, a frown creasing her forehead. "There is a possibility the virus has attacked specific portions of SG-1's bodies, in Daniel's case, his brain. His PET scan revealed a significant lack of activity and in the few moments he's been awake, he's been anything but aware. In fact, I'd say he comprehended very little of what was happening."

"It was not a great length of time. According to the notations, the warriors each were in arrest for approximately five minutes," Anise said. "You are certain of the virus' symptoms? There was nothing in the Atenik documents to suggest it was more severe on specific regions of the body."

"No, I'm not certain. It's just an educated guess, and like you pointed out - Atenik physiology differs from human. I hope I *am* wrong."

"You're not," Sam whispered, and Hammond jumped at her voice. "I don't think you are. Oh, God, Daniel."

He'd forgotten she was awake. How could he have done that? Startled both by the reminder of her presence and his own callous forgetfulness, he looked at her closely for the first time since she had woken. Her eyes were open, aimed at Daniel but there was a floating quality to her gaze, as if she couldn't quite focus.

"Sam? Can you look at me, please?" Janet queried. The major complied, albeit slowly, blinking and shaking her head as if dismissing her own physical ailment as unimportant. "Can you see me?"

"Y-yes, just a little unclear. I think it's getting better. I'm okay."

"You are not, Major Carter," Teal'c said gently. "However, I agree that in comparison to Daniel Jackson and Colonel O'Neill, you are in better condition. Would it not be wise to proceed in healing O'Neill at this time?"

Trust Teal'c to get them all back on track. The Jaffa circled to Sam's side, resting a hand on her shoulder and Hammond had to swallow a lump as she closed her eyes in exhaustion. A part of him wanted her to sleep, to avoid witnessing what he suspected was going to be unpleasant all around. He looked to the immobile colonel, who appeared paler than should be humanly possible. The terrible thought that Anise or Selmac would have as rough a time with Jack as they had with Daniel swamped him, and he selfishly hoped not. Handling the task of standing by while they let the archaeologist die was going to be difficult enough. He didn't want to do it twice.

"You're right, Teal'c," he said. "Jake, are you and Selmac up for it?"

"Ah, judging from what happened with Daniel, I'd have to say no. Anise?"

"I believe I have sufficient strength."

"You'd better more than believe it," Hammond snapped.

"General, would you rather I not try?"

Hammond ground his teeth together, choosing not to answer. Of all the times for the Tok'ra woman to cop an attitude....

"Sir, there's something else I've been thinking about. Daniel's condition is deteriorating so quickly. I'm afraid that if we wait until he crashes on his own, then I think it likely he won't respond to resuscitation efforts," Janet uneasily announced. "Whether Anise can heal Colonel O'Neill or not, the longer we delay, the worse it will be for Daniel. For all of them. For us."

Damn. If she was saying what he thought she was saying...

"Are you suggesting we somehow force him into cardiac arrest?" Jacob whispered, voice high with agitation as he voiced Hammond's own thought. "Outright kill him?"

Sam choked. Apparently she hadn't fallen asleep. Teal'c moved his hand from her shoulder to clasp onto her right hand. Hammond could hear nothing but static, could see nothing but that bond, which was two hands short of being complete.

"I wouldn't put it quite that way. I think if we wait, it'll only do harm. In a controlled setting, there's greater chance of success."

Acid seemed to burn a hole into the lining of his stomach and he fought to keep from purging it. Janet's suggestion was bordering on unethical, undeniably nearing that fine line. Hammond studied her ashen face. He saw that she understood the possible ramifications and was sticking by her assessment. That was more than enough for him to know it was this or nothing.

"Do it," he ordered, though he knew this ultimately under Janet's jurisdiction. She had already made her decision.

"Doctor Warner, if you could stand by at the colonel's bed in case medical attention is required, I'll p-prep for Daniel."

Only the slight stutter gave any indication of Janet's frame of mind, her wall of professionalism up high as ever. He thought it a necessity for herself but he unashamedly reaped the benefits from it as well, using it as a basis to bolster his own will. Maudlin was the best way to describe how he felt, and he didn't think it a good idea to project that particular image even in the worst of times, or at least more than he already had. The curse of being a general in the US Air Force.

"You know how you're going to...?"

Just this once, though, Hammond didn't want to be informed. Couldn't even finish the sentence. It spoke volumes that Janet was foregoing the overseeing of Jack's procedure.

"I think the easiest method would be to inject a heavy narcotic into Daniel's IV. It'll be quick, sir." She couldn't have looked sicker than if she had just said that she planned on covering Daniel's face with a pillow. He could use some type antacid. Hi stomach continued to rebel with extreme prejudice. "Then, to help with the...resuscitation efforts, he could be given an injection of a drug called Narcan to combat the effects."

He was right. He didn't want to know all that, or the terrible thought that Janet sounded too practiced in the delivery of the atrocious thing she was about to do. Numbly, he nodded and joined Teal'c on the far side of Sam's bed as both Jake and Anise converged on Jack's. Watching wasn't optional - he couldn't look away as Anise held the healing device over the unconscious colonel and the expected orange glow began to encompass him.

Hammond held his breath.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Do you need me to take over?"

"No."

Awareness came to him gradually, the voices floating above and to the right sounding vaguely familiar, one of them strained. He remembered waking to numbness before and was glad to find the sensation was gone. In the back of his mind, he knew that meant he should be feeling big bunches of pain but all he was experiencing was gentle warmth. Like sleeping in on the rare day off, buried under mountains of blankets.

"Doc, where would he have been most impacted?"

"His greatest acuity with the armbands was his physical strength. He hasn't been awake since arriving at the SGC, so I can't confirm that."

That was Janet. He'd never been so relieved to hear her voice, or to know he was at the SGC. Now Jack only needed one thing - confirmation that what ailed him had not happened to Carter and Daniel. His body tensed under the heat, and he felt the muscles in his arms and legs stiffen. It wasn't painful but uncomfortable and he moved in an attempt to alleviate it. He moved!

"George, he's waking up," one of the familiar voices called out. Only Jacob called Hammond that, which meant Carter was here. Where? "Anise, you okay?"

"I am finished," the Tok'ra quack that had got him into this mess said as the cozy feeling faded, leaving Jack in the cold. His muscles continued to spasm.

"I almost wish he wouldn't wake up right now. The mere suggestion of what we're about to do had Major Carter considerably distressed. At least she's sleeping again. I don't want him the same so soon after his own trauma. The last thing he needs is emotional strain," Fraiser said.

Oh, crap. Carter was here and not just as a visitor. He let out a small grunt that ended up sounding more like a wheeze. Cracking one uncooperative eye open gained him a fantastic view of white. Lab coat. He experimentally tried to move his left hand to snag at the obstructing white wall. Was pretty sure his finger twitched, a small victory he was happy to take, but that was all that happened. Jack closed his eye, rested for a millisecond, and then opened both of them. The lab coat was gone in favor of the round face of Doctor Warner, making him start in involuntary reaction.

"Colonel O'Neill?"

He groaned at the ridiculousness of that inquiry, never able to understand why people always insisted on asking him to respond to his own name. Next thing the doctor would ask was how he was feeling. Somehow, he knew neither really mattered.

"Lieutenant Green, can you please take the samples from Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter to the lab for analysis? Give him five cc's."

Rustling fabric and muffled footsteps sounded from his left side, and Doctor Warner eased back a ways, replaced by Fraiser. He blinked at the dark circles under her eyes, the disarray of her hair. Bad. Bad. Why no mention of Daniel? New artificial warmth started to fill him. Drugs.

"Carter? Daniel?" Jack slurred past a thick tongue.

Fraiser's face almost imperceptibly splintered before she could catch herself.

"They're right next to you, sir. You need to rest."

What he *needed* was to know how his team members were. Teal'c would be straight with him, where was he? Traitorously, his eyes closed again and he couldn't reopen them. Movement around him continued, sound fading disconcertingly in and out as his head seemed to leave his body.

"I think he's sleeping. Are you...healed..."

"Yes," Anise said.

"Jake...take her...VIP rooms to rest?"

"I'd...stay, for Sam..."

"She'll be fine, sir. And frankly, the less...lingering around...less difficult. Doctor Warner, I've...ready...Daniel. I'm...to need...ready in case this doesn't work."

What? Even only catching snippets, Jack was alarmed at the mention of Daniel's name in the context of something not working. Something medical not working equaled bad news. Struggling to stay semi-aware, he latched onto the rhythmic beeping of his own monitor before his mind worked out the discordantly slow ones coming from his right. What the hell was going on? He wasn't altogether certain he wanted to know, but his eyes opened anyway. Tipping his head toward the sounds, he saw Fraiser and Warner huddled around the adjacent bed. There was a gaggle of nurses waiting in the wings.

"Maybe we should stay," Jacob said, off in the distance.

"No, it's okay," Fraiser contradicted. "And Anise? Thank you."

Shit. It was *that*bad. Fraiser being nice to Anise in any way, shape or form was comparable to the apocalypse approaching as far as Jack was concerned. And they were probably right. It probably was best if he didn't witness whatever was going down with Daniel. But he couldn't not. He blinked and hoped no one would notice he was awake and prevent him from seeing what he didn't want to see.

"Ready?"

Jack peeled his heavy eyelids back up as if the question had been asked of him. He blearily watched Fraiser insert a syringe into what he presumed was Daniel's IV line. She forced the contents out, looking as though it was the most hideous thing she had ever done, her back in stiff posture he could see even from his horizontal vantage point. Stepping back, she thrust the empty hypodermic away, looking back over her shoulder at someone standing in his vicinity. Catching him awake, she widened her eyes, which looked inexplicably damp. It was yet another shock to his system. But not nearly as shocking as seeing Daniel lying next to him, pale and wrong.

Or the monitors hooked up to his friend scream to life as Daniel succumbed to death, while Fraiser and Warner placidly stood by, doing nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~

Being a woman in the Air Force? Piece of cake.

Surviving marriage to Jim 'I'm-the-man-I-wear-the-pants' Kohloff sane? A walk in the park.

Battling countless alien diseases and organisms? Not a worry.

This, though. This was another story altogether, and she wasn't quite sure she was up to it. No, she was quite sure she *wasn't* up to it. How could anyone be?

No, she told herself. She *had* to do this. Janet refused to look at the general and Teal'c for fear their appearance would crumble her resolve. She maneuvered around Daniel's bed toward the potassium. Quick cardiac arrest in a bottle. In all her years of practicing medicine, she had never imagined herself in this position. With a frown, she took up an empty syringe and inserted it into the vial. She took a deep breath and allowed herself one more moment to steady extremely but not surprisingly, tense nerves.

"Ready?" Janet asked Doctor Warner, though in actuality it was more for herself. She checked the clock.

When she received a nod of affirmation, Janet inserted the needle into the IV and depressed the plunger quickly. She slid the hypodermic back out and dropped it on the tray. She stood in silent shock. Knowing what was happening was a necessary evil did not eliminate the horror even a little, her fear that Daniel's respiration would be depressed long enough to cause severe damage stabbing into her as sharply as any knife. She looked to General Hammond and Teal'c at last, but then her gaze locked on a very conscious Colonel O'Neill, his features warped by confused alarm. Oh, no. Why hadn't they taken the time to move Daniel to a more secluded area to do this? She wanted to tell the colonel to close his eyes, not to watch. He stared at her and then flicked his attention to Daniel, wincing.

She was frozen by the horror she could see in him, and that spawning within herself. Behind her, Daniel's monitors gave a series of fitful, erratic beeps, and then descended to a gruesome flat tone. Damning her for killing one of her friends, screeching horrible accusations that she would hear forever. As Daniel fell to death, the colonel sprang to life, squirming on his bed in extreme agitation. She should be glad to see him moving but she wasn't.

"Wh...what are you doing? Help him!"

The voice was weak. Barely audible, in fact, but it tore right into her. She wanted to tell him they *were* helping Daniel, but she didn't know if she believed that herself. Instead, she closed her eyes as Teal'c dived at the colonel to gently pin the flailing limbs down and hold him still.

"Daniel! Help him! Goddamnit..." the colonel called again, more fragile this time as the sedatives finally did what they should have done long ago.

"Time?" she asked, tuning out the low assurances she heard both Teal'c and General Hammond give the colonel. She couldn't think about that now.

"Two minutes."

Dear God, only two minutes? Time really did slow down during ugly situations. So much time to think about the potential consequences of her actions. Those consequences played out in her head, adding another macabre facet to the proceedings and upped the torture. Being unable resuscitate Daniel was a terrible thing to think about. Being able to resuscitate Daniel, only to find out this 'cure' resulted in brain damage was worse. Five minutes was too long for the human brain to go without oxygen and not suffer any kind of debilitating effects, especially considering his already reduced brain activity. All this for nothing. She heard another plea from Colonel O'Neill, muffled by the roaring in her ears. God. Her stomach churned.

"Three minutes," Doctor Warner breathed. "Let's go."

She flew, grabbing the Narcan and inserting it in the IV as her colleague began CPR. No change on the monitors, no life. There shouldn't have been any surprise at the lack of immediate response, given their luck thus far, but Janet still felt a paroxysm of panicked disappointment. What if, oh God, what if they'd waited too long to begin resuscitation? Doubt festered as she watched Doctor Warner apply compressions, numbly taking her place with the hand ventilator. Cursing, she nearly lost grip on the bag as her hands shook terribly. She had to get a hold of herself and lose the first year resident behavior! Time slowed again, as all she was aware of were the flat tonal sirens and the jolts of Daniel's body from the compression. Forever. Too long.

"Damn, we need the epi!" she gritted out.

It was in her hand before she finished the order. She juggled with the ventilator and finally administered the epi. She was relieved when it gratifyingly jumpstarted Daniel's stubbornly still heart. The beats were anything but regular, flying across the monitor in distress. She didn't have to call for the atrophine and lidocaine. Lieutenant Green, thankfully more stable and together than she, passed the drugs to Doctor Warner. She sneaked a glance at the clock, stunned to find nearly another three minutes had passed. Six full minutes down. They couldn't take too much longer and she suddenly became irrationally angry with her patient. Damnit, Daniel, stop messing with me and live, she swore to herself.

As if he had heard her, Daniel finally cooperated, giving them a regular, albeit slow, rhythm. Panting harshly, Janet belatedly realized she hadn't been breathing much herself and was now as winded as she was after climbing a couple of flights of stairs. She closed her eyes briefly in thankfulness, turning toward the general, Teal'c and Colonel O'Neill with a small smile. The finally unconscious colonel's two bedside guardians relaxed and she heard an expulsion of air from at least one of them. But a tiny step out of the woods did not guarantee Daniel would make it out unharmed, a sad reality that soon crept into her. She lost her elation after too short a time.

"As soon as he's stable enough, we'll need another PET scan," she announced, wincing at being the one responsible for the downcast looks marring her friends' faces as the implications of her words sunk in. Janet was so glad the colonel and Sam weren't awake.

"How soon before we know this worked?" the general asked.

Oh.

In the necessary rush, she had not even thought to ask Anise that very important question. She felt like an idiot, as all she could do was stare at General Hammond with what she was certain was a befuddled look on her face. Some doctor she was turning out to be - not only had she been unable to do a thing to help two of her friends, a third's life still hung in a very tentative balance in which any and all information should have been obtained long ago. Head suddenly pounding, Janet thought back to her initial gut feeling that SG-1 would have to rely on themselves for recovery and realized that in the case of Daniel, that may still prove accurate. If there had been any kind of damage...

She didn't have time to fumble through an answer. General Carter saved her by returning to the infirmary, tense gaze directed to Daniel. Loosening up when he saw the young man was still alive, he then transferred his attention to Sam. Relief for his daughter was evident, and he managed a weary smile before walking to General Hammond's side.

"Anise is all situated. On the way to the VIP room, she mentioned the Atenik journal was vague - the only language it gave regarding timelines was to say it was 'rapid recovery'. That's good news, right?" General Carter answered, apparently having heard the inquiry.

Janet bit back a reactionary snide remark about the Tok'ra archaeologist. She still had to be grudgingly grateful to the other woman for the quasi-helpful information despite her dislike. It was better than any stuttering she would have managed. Tiredly brushing a stray hair from her forehead, she started moving to assist Doctor Warner and Lieutenant Green in gathering the samples needed from all three members of SG-1 for the tests that would hopefully give them all reasonably clean bills of health. Reasonably. The thought that the team might not come through this intact would plague her until the proof was in her hands that each of them was well on their way to complete recovery. God, please.

"Better than we've had, Jake. Better than we've had," General Hammond replied, sounding...old.

She glanced back to the huddle the men had formed. Janet took in the gray, sagging complexion of the base commander's face and frowned. This hadn't just hit her hard, something of which she'd been aware on the periphery but hadn't allowed herself to fully consider. If the general didn't rest soon she was going to have to force the issue. With Teal'c, too. She was quite sure he hadn't done kel no'reem in well over twenty-four hours, which would account for his drawn face. And, if she were honest, both she and Doctor Warner were pushing the envelope in the number of straight hours worked. Having had the luxury of ten hour shifts for so long, her body was unused to the treatment she was punishing it with now. Her neglected stomach growled in agreement, though there was no way she could eat. Or sleep, for that matter.

And so she knew any attempt to strong-arm the general or Teal'c into leaving would fail, medical authority or not. That fact was the only known in a huge chasm of unknowns at this point, and there was a certain amount of strange comfort to be gained from it.

"It will take several hours to run the full gamut of tests on all of them. Major Carter's continued vision problems are a source of concern and I'd like to ensure the colonel has mobility of his limbs," she said, surprised she managed to sound so crisp and confident when inside she was still predominantly mush on the inside.

She didn't, however, think herself capable to note that they'd know much sooner for Daniel. His body had been ravaged one too many times in the past...God, day and a half. Was that all?...that if the 'starving out' of the virus didn't work it would be apparent. His internal decay *hadn't* been healed...wait.

"General Carter, how soon do you think you'd be able to try the healing device again?"

He stepped away from Colonel O'Neill's bed, moving to Sam's side. He picked up her right hand, he stroked it thoughtfully before answering, "No more than half an hour, though Selmac highly recommends we ensure the Atenik virus is no longer in Daniel's system. She doesn't think it wise for him or us to even try if it is there."

Damn. He'd followed her thought process but didn't give her the easy answer she had wanted. With horror, Janet realized how soft she'd become if she'd settle for Goa'uld based technology to do a quick cure in favor of human medicine. A millisecond after that dawned on her, she realized the rock and hard place situation Dan...they all were in. If there were still traces of the virus in Daniel's system, he was already dead. But if it was and they let him deteriorate while they sorted the facts, he may cross the threshold of the healing device's limited capabilities. She remembered Sam's attempt to heal Cronus - it was a partial job. The rest was done by the symbiote's natural regenerative ability, a luxury Daniel didn't have.

"She also said, uh, she said she would rather give you as much time as possible with him before..." General Carter trailed off, unhappily clutching Sam's hand even more tightly.

General Hammond gave a soft but guttural bark at the inference, and Janet heard the metallic jangle of one of her office chairs being sat upon heavily. She couldn't look, didn't want to see that anxious hope turning once again to misery on his face.

"So, we'll rush his tests," she said, having to believe that if they hadn't successfully eliminated the alien bug that Daniel would already be losing his stability.

Janet surreptitiously checked the machines surrounding her friend as a double check. She was reassured to see both that he was holding steady and that Doctor Warner had already vacated the infirmary for the lab. She finally looked to General Hammond, finding him studying her.

"With both myself and Doctor Warner working on them, we should know soon enough."

She wavered a smile, then left him, Teal'c and General Carter to find out for sure if SG-1 would survive yet another battle.

~~~~~~~~~~

Teal'c chose to interpret Doctor Fraiser's continued concern regarding the residual effects of the Atenik virus on O'Neill and Major Carter as overly cautious. He felt his own sense of heavy trepidation fade somewhat. It would not wholly dissipate until their health was proven, of course, as the possibility his friends would never truly be the same again refused to relinquish its hold. The feeling was aided by the disturbing stillness that remained in the man lying before him on the bed. Irrationally, he wanted to see O'Neill move, or at least exhibit signs that he was capable of more than feeble twisting.

The weakness in O'Neill's muscles had been alarmingly obvious as Teal'c restrained him earlier, a feeling that would not soon depart his memory. Nor would his own sense of helplessness and horror at the tableaux causing SG-1's team leader such anguish dissipate. There was still much fear in him for Daniel- and for the rest of the team. Any victory concerning O'Neill and Major Carter's return to health would be tainted if the result was not the same for Daniel. The trepidation regained a foothold, negative thoughts weighing down on him. He knew he was well past the time for kel no'reem but doubted he would be able to achieve the proper level of concentration, as emotion was now overpowering the principles of Jaffa training.

He did not like waiting. He did not like powerlessness. He did not like sitting between two friends in a purgatory of ignorance. Unlike before, Teal'c could find no comfort in relating tales of his friends' exploits and apparently his comrades in waiting could not either. They sat in dismal silence. Jacob Carter held Major Carter's hand in a warm embrace. Teal'c wanted to do the same with Daniel. Instead, he placed his tightly fisted hands in his lap, looking up to the clock.

"They will be well," he said.

The strange affirmation, driven from so deep within himself he did not know where it had come from, did nothing to alleviate his concern. His voice resonated through the formerly silent room and lingered for several minutes. It seemed to echo and mock him. General Hammond jerked slightly in delayed reaction. Teal'c looked over to apologize for the outburst, found the general darting him a curious, wishful expression to convey, he believed, concurrence. He relaxed.

"That is the only acceptable outcome," Jacob Carter whispered, reiterating Teal'c's own earlier assertion.

Teal'c purposefully unfolded his hands and placed his left one on top of Daniel's. He was careful not to jar the lines attached to it. Barely any skin protruded out from under the wires, but it was enough for him to feel disheartening coolness, as if his friend's body was too busy fighting to tend to body temperature. His thumb began a slow massage, rhythmically in time with the slow beeping of his friend's heartbeat and he began to feel better.

"Indeed."

He looked at the clock once more, ruing the act even as he did so. It had been merely five minutes since Doctor Fraiser's staff had wheeled Daniel Jackson back to the infirmary, faces not proffering any indication on the results of the PET scan. The lack of emotion might have been to conceal bad news but his friend's continued stability spoke otherwise and made his faith grow once again. He was aware of his fluctuating moods and that his delay in kel no'reem would soon begin to impact him physically as well as mentally.

The room fell into silence once more, thought now it no longer seemed quite so oppressive. He still longed for his friends to awaken. He missed their companionship fiercely and there was much to do to regain their former closeness. Though it had only been two weeks since Anise had initially come to the SGC and the voluntary experiment on his friends had begun, he had felt the detachment from them almost immediately and with such intensity that short span of time seemed of great length. Perhaps it was because he had come so close to losing them that the intensity seemed so great now. Yes, he wanted them all to open their eyes and be the same as they had been. Healthy. Together. He believed they would soon do as he desired, at least Major Carter and O'Neill. Daniel, though...no. Teal'c banished the doubts, the worries, and continued his slow rub on his friend's limp hand.

His mind eased with each passing stroke of his thumb and with it, his awareness. He had no estimation of how long it actually took him to realize the tempo to which he synchronized his massage was slowing by infinitesimal degrees. Alarmed, he straightened his shoulders, letting go of his friend and rising. He leaned closer to Daniel, though he was not certain why he thought the action to be beneficial. Daniel's appearance had not changed; he still had the look of someone too close to death, morbidly cold and tranquil.

"Teal'c?" General Hammond asked, leaving his station to stand at the foot of Daniel's bed. "What's wrong?"

He continued to stare at the archaeologist, willing Daniel to prove his returned anxiety unfounded, that it was a figment of fatigued mind and body. Teal'c held his breath. He could not help but to do so. He averted his gaze from Daniel Jackson's face to the monitor that was culpable for his alarm.

"Did he move? Should I get Doctor Fraiser?"

The monitor's readings did nothing to prove his instinct was correct. Teal'c was convinced he had been mistaken. He found no cause to alarm General Hammond.

"That will not be necessary. I had believed there was a change in his condition but that is proving to be untrue."

"Are you sure, Teal'c?" Jacob Carter asked.

"Yes. He is fine."

He had no authority to make such a claim.

"He is in a coma," Freya pronounced as she walked into the infirmary. "I have just come from Doctors Fraiser and Warner."

Coma. If he were honest, Teal'c would admit that in the back of his mind he already suspected as much. It was not the diagnosis he had hoped for, but it was not as bad as it could have been.

"Understandably, his brain function is affected and they are working now to determine if that condition is related only to the coma or if it is more permanent."

"What of the Atenik virus?" Teal'c said. "Is it still present in his system?"

He knew the answer. In conjunction with Daniel's continued stability, the fact Doctor Fraiser felt it necessary to determine his brain functionality told Teal'c the virus had been successfully purged. Knowing this did not prevent his inexplicable need to hear the words spoken aloud. Freya walked closer to them, veering to stand at O'Neill's bedside, placing her hand on the bedcovers. She spared him, General Hammond and Jacob Carter a slight glance but her attention was primarily on the unconscious colonel's frame. Teal'c stared at her as her large gray eyes softened upon looking at O'Neill.

"No," she said at last.

Though he wasn't looking, he could *feel* General Hammond smile at the news. The gloom of the coma implication seemed not quite as grave in light of the knowledge that Daniel Jackson would not die.

"However," Freya continued. "Doctor Jackson did not have the benefit of the healing device. They are running tests, also, to determine the level of decay to his vital organs. On a more positive note, it appears Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter will make complete recoveries, though it will take some time."

Teal'c was not convinced by her attempt to downplay the first portion of her information. Once again, Freya's features were that of a person feeling guilty of something and he began to suspect she had been told more than she had thus far related. He sat back down, returning his hand to its place over Daniel's. His friend's skin felt even cooler and he instinctively honed in on the cause of his earlier concern. The weak heartbeat gave him more than enough evidence that considerable damage had been done to his young friend.

Then it struck him that Freya had not looked any of them in the eye and had paused significantly before assuring them Daniel was free of the Atenik virus. The nagging sense that something was not right bloomed with ripeness, making him nauseous. He could not fathom a valid reason for Freya to withhold anything from them but it seemed likely that she had done precisely that.

"Why don't we just use it on him now?" Jacob Carter suggested.

Freya moved her hand, placing it directly on O'Neill's shin. The man stirred at the touch, beginning to rouse when Teal'c thought that it might not be a good idea. The irony of it was overwhelming. Teal'c turned toward Major Carter's bed. He hoped he would not find her breaking through her own sedative-induced slumber. He did not wish his friends to endure more stress and, selfishly, did not want to witness additional anguish. He was a coward.

"Doctor Fraiser had concerns regarding the virus. The initial testing she conducted apparently were inconclusive, the next revealed it was gone. Doctor Warner will be here shortly to retrieve another blood sample for retesting."

"So..."

"So you have no choice but to wait until the doctors are positive, Jake," General Hammond said.

"But that doesn't make sense. If the virus was still in him, wouldn't it be attacking him pretty damn violently right now?" Jacob Carter argued, and again Teal'c was reminded of the similarities between him and O'Neill.

"We do not know that. It seems likely the virus has varied significantly in the human body as compared to the Atenik records. The initial tests have confirmed as much. It is a risk we cannot take again," Freya said. "You know this is true. It will not help any of them, your daughter included, Jacob, to make the attempt and fail. As long as he is stable, we should wait."

It was an effective argument, though he could not lose the idea that the Tok'ra scientist was endeavoring to convince more than Jacob Carter. Freya gazed down upon O'Neill, whose movements were becoming larger and more coordinated. He wondered where Doctor Warner was, wanting the tests to be completed and Daniel's fate to at least be known before his friends awoke. He wanted that fate to be life.

"Fine."

Major Carter's father returned to her side, touching her hand softly and brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. He understood the other man's frustration at being unable to do anything, and in some ways agreed with Jacob Carter's viewpoint as much as Freya's. Both had the potential to cause great harm to Daniel Jackson. Both had potential to cause great good. The question was - which one was the correct path? Doubt that they were doing the right thing by not having Selmac heal his friend seared him. The hand beneath his was an icy contrast. Silently, they waited. Teal'c kept his ears open for approaching footsteps so that he might remove himself so the doctors could access the ill man efficiently.

Every few seconds, Jacob Carter cleared his throat and shifted. Every few seconds, O'Neill and Major Carter demonstrated signs of rousing. Every few seconds, Daniel Jackson remained motionless. Every few seconds, the beeping representative of his heart rate seemed to change. Alter. Slow. Fear struck again, and this time he as not alone.

"Nurse!" General Hammond shouted with alarm, still standing at the end of the bed. "We need Doctor Fraiser down here. Now!"

Teal'c wondered why there were no alarms. He stood up at the precise moment those alarms began to sound and Daniel's heartbeat stopped registering on the monitors. Motion around him was so rapid it was slow, as nurses and aids rushed to his friend. He watched and at last thought about the foolishness of leaving a critical patient without medical supervision. Misplaced anger, he knew, because the laboratory was merely in the next room. Why was it taking so long for Doctor Fraiser to arrive? So long. Ten seconds. The machines screeched.

"No!" Anise cried out, making her first appearance since healing O'Neill. "We cannot allow this to happen."

She sounded so fiercely emotional, the opposite of her customary demeanor, that Teal'c nearly did a double take at the change. No one moved to stop her as she gathered up the healing device and rushed to Daniel's side. It occurred to him that her behavior went strictly against what Freya had warned about and he started moving forward, one hand outstretched. He was too late, the orange glow already flowing across his friend's body.

There was nothing he could do, only watch as Daniel arched slightly off the bed and listen to the bells of the medical equipment roar in his ears.

~~~~~~~~~~

This couldn't happen. It couldn't.

It *was* happening and he was powerless. Teal'c stepped forward as Anise brought the healing device over Daniel's forehead, looking as though he wanted to stop the Tok'ra. It was too late. The tool flared to life. Hammond didn't know if he was glad Teal'c hadn't succeeded or not, watching the young man's body convulse slightly, belying the telltale flat line pummeling the room and giving the appearance of life.

"What's going on? Damnit!" Janet said as she ran into the infirmary.

What had taken her so long? Hammond cursed under his breath when he realized only seconds had passed since Daniel had begun to code. He stood back as his CMO elbowed her way past him without even a sideways glance. No, her attention was solely on Anise and Daniel. He returned his there as well, praying to all deities that had ever existed that the Atenik virus had indeed been gotten rid of and that this was the correct action to take. He looked at Anise, finding a grimace of total concentration. He wondered what the repercussions of beginning to heal someone already in arrest were to the symbiote.

"Anise moved too quickly for us to prevent her, Doctor Fraiser," Teal'c said. "Now we can but wait."

Hammond knew from that tone how deeply concerned the Jaffa was. He drew up to Teal'c's side and took his eyes away from the struggle to provide some sort of commiserating expression of his own.

"I know," Janet said.

He wanted to ask for validation from the doctor of the unspoken hope that the virus was gone. Some kind of proof from her tests. He said nothing, swallowing heavily as Anise gasped, her arms shaking.

"Come on, Daniel," someone said. A big hand on his forearm offered comfort. It also told him that he himself had spoken the words. He repeated them. "Come on."

He heard Janet's breath strangle and turned to catch her gaze. Their eyes locked and he ushered her over with a slight wave. As she walked toward him and Teal'c, he read the helpless anger in her entire countenance. It jabbed a cold rod of fear into his spine, making him shiver at the speculation she knew Anise would fail. When she got close enough, he extended his left hand, taking hers and linking her to the connection Teal'c had created with him.

"Come on, Daniel," Janet whispered as she pivoted slightly, picking up the mantra. Relief soared as she squeezed his hand.

The three of them stood clustered together, tense with shared torment and the unreality of the situation. Hammond shook his head slightly, trying to make himself believe Anise wasn't struggling nearly as much as she appeared to be. Off to his left, Jake moved from Sam and toward Anise. As his old friend reached her side, the healing device suddenly shut off. He flicked his gaze toward the heart monitor and breathed a huge sigh as he saw the blips on its screen. Faster than before, steadier, as if a switch had been thrown. Never had he been so glad for something to be anti-climactic.

He took a step forward. Teal'c and Janet both followed. They converged on the bed like a tidal wave. Janet broke the link first, scooting over to Anise as the Tok'ra woman sagged leadenly onto the bed with a soft gasp. Teal'c kept his hand on Hammond's arm for several additional seconds, then also let go. He felt oddly bereft at the loss, attempting to reclaim the feeling by placing his hand on one of Daniel's feet.

"Did you get it all?" Janet asked.

Get it all? Oh, God. Startled, he jerked his attention to the ashy Anise, who was being supported by Jake. She had to have been successful. Oh, please. He pressed his fingers into a fist around the blanket-encased toes.

"Anise?" Jake reiterated.

It was Freya that replied, "There was a great deal of damage, as you all know. Anise managed to mend it all. I'm sorry, I really..."

Her voice faded as she collapsed completely, limply falling back into Jake's arms. Blinking, Hammond gaped at the unexpected faint; he hadn't thought it possible a Tok'ra could succumb to fatigue.

"I'll take her back to the VIP room and make sure she's okay," Jake said, already heading for the door with the tall woman in his arms. As the duo departed, Hammond heard the deep tone of Selmac chastising, "Foolish girl, what were you..."

The rest disappeared in the growing space between them. Foolish or not, and whatever the motivations behind Anise's action, Hammond felt indebted to her and felt for the first time a spark of fondness. She may have been the one who got SG-1 into trouble in the first place, but she had also been the one to get two of them out of it. That was worth something, if not quite total trust. He allowed a tiny smile to form on his face as he looked down at Daniel and the slight color already returning to pale cheeks. He frowned as Janet and one of her nurses obtained yet another blood sample from Daniel, and was suddenly compelled to know if Anise had merely healed the internal damage or had fought the virus.

"Doctor Fraiser, had the virus been destroyed during the..." he trailed off, suddenly horrorstruck by the morbidity of the question and the reminder of watching Daniel's life purposely being snuffed out. If it hadn't, if that had been for naught, he was no longer sure he wanted to know.

A slight flinch and increased paleness Janet's face were the only indicators he needed to know to answer his faltered question, and the only he was going to receive. The debt they all owed Anise increased all the more, as he was sure it would have killed Janet if Daniel hadn't survived. At the very least, Hammond suspected she would have had a difficult time continuing to practice medicine. He didn't know why the second attempt at ridding the young man of the virus had worked, when the first time Daniel had...died hadn't produced the same result. Truth be told, he didn't even care about the specifics. All he cared about was that his team was going to be okay. All of them. Maybe not today, maybe not next week. They had to be. He wouldn't consider anything else, wouldn't allow the skulking thought that the handicaps the To'ra healing device hadn't been able to completely put right were permanent.

As if on cue, Jack emitted a raspy cough and stirred. Instantly, Teal'c repositioned himself between Jack and Daniel, his attention divided between watching the two men and directing glances over to Sam. Hammond started mimicking the same maneuver, though it made his weary head ache ever so slightly. Something akin to excitement filled him, ridiculous butterflies in his stomach at the promise of return to health. Heartened, he beamed a smile at Janet, who strove to return it with as much intensity. She didn't come close and handed blood samples to her nurse, murmuring quick instructions. Janet gave a lengthy inspection to Daniel and the machinery hooked up around him, relaxing noticeably at last, as if only now starting to believe the ordeal was, for the most part, over.

Jack coughed again and then groaned. Janet moved to him, traversing around both him and Teal'c and standing where she would indubitably be the first person the colonel saw. Hammond knew how the often contrary man would likely react. He backed up just far enough so he could see around her, yet not lose his hold on Daniel. Like that would somehow keep the younger man here, and stable.

There were no theatrics, no moans about Janet's ego getting the better of her. And Hammond knew that it had been too much to hope for, given the last sight Jack had seen before yielding to the pull of sedation. No, brown eyes merely cracked open a tiny slit, closing again while Jack's mouth opened.

"Daniel?"

"He's still with us, Colonel," Janet assured him, stepping down the bed slightly and reaching for Jack's chart.

Sluggishly, Jack's hand shifted and raised up to catch hers before it made it to its destination. Hammond jumped right along with Janet, his heart soaring at the miniscule movement. Eyes riveted on the tense fingers wrapped, albeit weakly, around Janet's hand, he smiled.

So broadly it made his face hurt.

~~~~~~~~~~

Despite the fact Anise had effectively healed Daniel, Janet couldn't let that end result be exoneration for her failure, for the pain of the others and even herself that she had wrought with her own hands. There had been no choice, she knew, but that also did nothing to relieve her inner burden. She sensed General Hammond's studious gaze on her as she carefully tended to Daniel.

The tests done on Colonel O'Neill and Sam had already shown the Tok'ra had worked at least two miracles, though she had doubts concerning the functions most harshly hit by the virus. Until they awoke again, there was little she could do to determine if she was right or wrong - the tests she had been able to run were unsurprisingly questionable. It was up to them to show her, and now it was up to Daniel, too. Tiredness ate at her body and her soul, causing an ache that wouldn't abate. She wanted to crawl into a dark corner somewhere and hide until her friends bucked the fear for her.

She was a coward, plain and simple. Janet brushed a hand across her forehead and took up a vial. She set about collecting what she hoped was the last blood sample from Daniel. Another PET scan should be done in light of his new, improved state of health but something in her said a delay wouldn't do irreparable harm. A tiny sprout of hope trying to poke through, perhaps? As if answering her unspoken question, Colonel O'Neill wheezed a cough that spoke of near consciousness. Looking up, she got stuck in the smile General Hammond tossed toward her and knew he expected a return. She made the attempt, seeing she hadn't done very well in his slight faltering. Instead of thinking about it, she finished taking blood and handed the sample over to the attentive nurse at her side.

"Take this to Doctor Warner, please," she said.

Gazing down at Daniel, she was pleased to see color in his complexion at last. No thanks to her. Swallowing, she censured herself for being such a twit. Why couldn't she let it go and accept that 'all's well that end's well'? Daniel was going to be fine, all of SG-1 were, and *that* was what mattered here. And none of them would fault her for doing what had had to be done. Even if she had failed miserably. Mentally slapping her own cheek, Janet let her shoulders slump slightly as she allowed herself to take Daniel's good readings at face value. Self-flagellation was a pointless exercise, one the man lying before her was good at himself but would never encourage her to do. The colonel twisted around on his bed and coughed again.

Watching him roll slightly to the right, to Daniel, she deliberately stepped up to block his view. Not with the express purpose of denying him what he wanted, but rather to prevent him from getting excited too soon after waking. Like before. Daniel was better; he just didn't quite look it yet. She quickly checked his monitors, pleased everything still looked good, no leftover Atenik surprises popping up. She looked back to Jack and found his eyes open. He was very much aware, though only a sliver of brown showed. His eyes closed again, strumming a distressing chord through her for a fraction of a second. Then he asked what she knew he would.

"Daniel?"

Janet honestly wasn't sure what to tell him, though part of her wanted to give him an enormous hug and tell him everything was going to be all right. As if saying that to him would make her truly believe it. She was so tired. So tired.

"He's still with us, Colonel."

She knew her words were terribly inadequate. Janet stepped away from him at last to allow him direct sight of his friend as his eyelids twitched open again. She covered the move by reaching for his chart in a masquerade of diligent duty, startling when heavy coldness enveloped her hand. Stopping at the silent request, she spun back and prepared to elaborate. One look at the colonel's face was enough to make her realize her vagueness had been interpreted as falling on the negative side of the line, his expression blanched with worry.

"You just...stood there."

God. She really hoped General Hammond wouldn't make her explain what she'd done. Not ready for that, not by a long shot.

"No, I shouldn't have said it like that. He's fine, sir," she said, rambling and not caring how big a fool she was making of herself. All she could think about was the horrified voice the colonel had spoken with after she'd...no, she couldn't go down that path again. She repeated herself, for her own benefit as well as Colonel O'Neill's. "He's going to be just fine."

Tears of exhaustion and gladness welled in her eyes and she had to avert her face, not wanting to appear a blubbering ninny to anyone, let alone Colonel Jack O'Neill. The thorn in her side, the salt in her wound on most occasions. She was so damn happy for the pressure he was applying with his fingers, constricting tightly around hers in a grip a few hours ago she wouldn't have thought possible. She wrested her hand free and twisted it so it was palm up, making a true embrace of it. She cleared her eyes of their foolish moisture, finally ready to face him. She met his stare, gasping when she saw damp cheeks.

"Carter?"

"Her, too. All of you." As she said it, Janet felt the guilt lift a little. "All of you."

She tried to take back her hand. She really did have things she needed to do and didn't think she'd ever get to them if she stuck around too much longer. Emotions were pinned blatantly on her sleeve due to sleep deprivation and the sudden release of all the pent up worry. Her stomach growled and she added hunger to the list of contributing factors coloring her normally stalwart bedside manner. Feeling the way she did, if Sam chose to make her reappearance anytime in the next five minutes, she might be distributing that big hug.

"Indeed," Teal'c rumbled, speaking for the first time in so long that she let out a peep of startlement.

His words were a beacon, and she instantly felt his presence at her back. Where he had always been. Janet looked around to Teal'c. Despite the obvious fatigue lining his face he looked...softer, somehow. Reassured and nearly whole. She hadn't even realized the drastic effect the events of the last twenty odd hours had had on his appearance. He looked much better this way. She then turned to General Hammond. He still had a huge grin on his face, uncharacteristic but wholly beautiful. Janet smiled back, and this time she meant every watt of it. Though they weren't touching, she could feel the link they had formed as if it were a tangible thing. She had no idea how long they stood there grinning like idiots, but that was the way General Carter found them when he walked back into the infirmary. After his initial, completely understandable visual examination of Sam, he gave them all a quizzical look and then his eyes landed on Colonel O'Neill. Confusion faded, and he joined them in their Smile-a-Thon, walking to his daughter's bed.

"Hey, Jack," he murmured in greeting.

The colonel coughed again, spurring her into action at long last. Easily extracting her hand from his increasingly weak grasp, she reached for the pitcher of water on the bedstand and filled the waiting glass about half full. For crying out loud, what had she been thinking? His mouth probably felt like something had crawled inside and died there. She ignored his scowl as he lifted his head off the pillow, keeping the glass herself and tipping it to his lips for him to drink. His eyes stayed pinned on Daniel, uncertainty darkening them almost black.

"He really is okay, sir. I'll be honest, it was touch and go for a while there but he's going to be fine," she said, too quietly for anyone else to hear. Except maybe Teal'c. She felt a big hand coming to rest on the small of her back.

"Paralyzed, like me?" the colonel asked, letting his head fall.

"No, not exactly."

She *really* didn't want to go into detail with him, remembering nothing was official yet as far as Daniel was concerned. Not a superstitious person, Janet still felt inclined to knock on wood, cross her fingers and find a shooting star to wish on that Daniel wouldn't have any more complications. The way his luck was going, it wouldn't surprise her to find out he'd somehow picked up Sam and the colonel's deficiencies along with his own.

"Not exactly?"

"Um, Doctor Fraiser?" General Carter said. Saved by the bell. "I think Sam's waking."

"Carter?"

She gave the colonel one last once over, then pivoted around to make her way to Sam's bed. The tiredness that had been pulling her down seemed to be fading as SG-1 slowly returned to normal. Well, returned to consciousness anyway. Potato, potahto. Janet didn't care, really, she simply relished the one hundred eighty degree turnaround in her mood. She wouldn't allow herself total jubilation quite yet, but this was enough to buoy her spirits and her step. Trust her friends to bombard her with good news the way they had with bad, her head feeling vaguely overwhelmed in a highly acceptable way. She nearly chuckled as she walked by General Hammond, his befuddled expression so indicative of her own state of mind.

Sam's eyes were teary and clearly still not capable of focusing completely but they were held on her father's face, puzzlement definite. It only took fifteen seconds for realization to light across her features, dismay contorting her pretty face into a gruesome mask. Seconds after that, it returned to confusion as General Carter smiled warmly down at her. As terrible as it was to see Sam riding the same roller coaster of emotions as she herself had experienced, Janet was pleased to see the other woman react to her father's changing expression. If her friend could see that, she had real hope the blindness was fading. Jacob gently cupped Sam's cheek.

"Sam, it's Janet," she called, interrupting the father/daughter moment. "Can you look at me?"

"No."

No?

"Daniel?" Sam asked, lifting her head and shoulders off the bed and twisting to the left. "Please tell me he's okay."

"He's fine, kiddo," General Carter answered in her stead. Janet just smiled in affirmation, watching Sam relax back onto her bed.

"Thanks for asking about me, Carter," Colonel O'Neill's voice drifted over. "Glad for your concern."

Had she really missed the snarkiness and banter?

You bet she had.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you happy now, or are you going to make me walk across the room on my hands?" O'Neill growled at Doctor Fraiser, jaw set hard.

"That won't be necessary, Colonel, though a couple cartwheels wouldn't go amiss."

"Carter? Daniel? A word on my behalf, maybe?"

"I'm not touching this one, Colonel. And you can't order me to, because technically Janet's still in command of us," Major Carter said.

"No way, Jack."

"For crying out loud, I get no respect. If you guys were the ones to undergo grueling physical therapy for the past two weeks instead of playing with word games and reading bland eye charts your perspective might change a bit."

"You didn't, um, didn't..." Daniel stopped talking, appearing very confused.

Teal'c had been enjoying the rapid-fire discussion from his position at the infirmary doorway but his mood soured at Daniel's difficulty in finding the appropriate word. The past two weeks had been filled with tremendous highs and several dark swills of frustration, such as now. He held his tongue, witnessed O'Neill and Major Carter do the same. Daniel's temper tended to turn fiery when attempts to assist were offered. It seemed his friend wished to work through his trouble on his own. While he did not enjoy watching a friend struggle, he valued the determination Daniel embodied.

"Complain!" Daniel shouted after nearly a minute of intense concentration. "You didn't complain when the armbands made you, uhm, strong."

"No, I didn't, did I?" O'Neill concurred softly. Teal'c believed O'Neill would cease complaining now as well.

As heartening as it was to observe the strides his friends had made, every time Daniel could not remember a simple word, Major Carter could not determine the letters on an eye chart or O'Neill stumbled on weak limbs had made his own spirit waver. The pain he felt for them was as real as any he had ever experienced firsthand and he had done his best to provide support when he could. When it was allowed.

"If he knows what's good for him, he'll knock off the whining now, too," Doctor Fraiser said, voicing his thoughts. Teal'c tipped his toward her as he saw that she was looking at him instead of her patients. She gave a bare nod of her head before returning her attention to O'Neill. "This is the last set you need to do, Colonel. Manage to do this and I don't see why I can't upgrade your status to active duty. Come on, now. Give me ten."

With an exasperated sigh, O'Neill raised his arms in the air, brought his hands down to his shoulders first, hips next and finally stooped all the way over to brush fingertips across the floor. He repeated the same in reverse until his arms were once again in the air. A titter of amusement filled the air, sounding suspiciously like it had stemmed from Major Carter. Teal'c could not disagree that the sight before him was a source of amusement. His lips curled up at the corners of his mouth.

"I really don't see how *this* is going to prove I'm physically fit," O'Neill said, teetering on the edge of complaining as he waggled his raised fingers.

In answer, Doctor Fraiser reached up and tickled an exposed underarm. If he did not know better, Teal'c would think O'Neill had donned another Atenik armband as he jetted across the infirmary to escape. The titter turned into belly laughs from both Major Carter and Daniel Jackson, while the doctor merely crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. He mirrored her, shifting his position to stand next to her.

"Laugh it up, guys. Just know that whatever Fraiser does to me, she's about to inflict on you next," O'Neill carped without any real derision.

"N-no she isn't, Jack," Daniel Jackson said between laughs. Teal'c did not mind the stutter in this case. "She l-likes us!"

O'Neill scowled at Doctor Fraiser, who blinked innocently and said, "All in the name of medicine, sir. I *did* find out your level of physical prowess."

Teal'c let his eyebrow relax, turning his attention to Major Carter and Daniel. He was pleased at their healthy color, and the sharpness of both sight and mind they exhibited as they leaned on one another. The laughter subsided, leaving behind an aura of camaraderie of which he once again felt a part. It seemed to him there was only one thing missing.

"I take it this means things are going well?" General Hammond's gruff voice filled in when the laughter dropped off completely. The base commander walked into the room, glancing at his teammates first and then to him and Doctor Fraiser. Now there was nothing missing.

"Yes, sir," the doctor reported. "I've just cleared Colonel O'Neill and was about to get started on Major Carter and Doctor Jackson."

She moved off to do just that and Teal'c suddenly experienced an intense recollection. He remembered standing in a dungeon on Chulak, weighing his fate and the fate of his people on three unthreatening-looking humans. As he had turned to fire upon his fellow warriors, he had believed with his entire soul how the mighty would fall. He had been wrong. The mighty that had fallen that day were as false as the god they served. The truly mighty were here in front of him today.

And how the mighty would grow.

Author's Notes: Originally published in Through The Liquid Eye. Please note it was written long ago. I was, uhm, very melodramatic back then. :)

© July 2004 Not mine, which is good because I'd likely keep them locked up and tell all y'all that they're for *my* enjoyment, and get your own.