• Spoilers: Prisoners
• Janet has to deal with losing friends. Missing scene to "Prisoners"
• PG-13 [Hc] [1st]

Alarms blared, announcing the off-world activation of the Stargate.

Janet Fraiser tensed, poised to grab a med. kit and race to the Embarkation Room. When no order was issued requesting her assistance, she relaxed, at least as much as she was able to these days.

The blue light from her computer screen reflected off the top of her desk, reminding her of what she had been doing at this time the day before. Worried about her friends, she had gone to the control room to witness Hammond's return. She had never seen the General so angry or in so much pain, though it was only obvious to those who knew him. After two days of negotiations he had finally unearthed the information no one was paroled from or escaped Hedante prison. There would be no miraculous return by the indomitable team this time. The Stargate was a one-way street.

Unwilling to be a catalyst for her superior's barely leashed emotions Janet had made herself scarce, managing to keep her own feelings under control until she reached the haven of her office. Work had become her panacea. But, for the first time since her posting, there had been no charts to review, no papers to sign.

When she had first been assigned to the SGC, she made a vow to keep her relationship with the field units purely professional. She hadn't needed a briefing to tell her how dangerous their job was; her own intelligence told her that. To become friends with any of the field personnel would invite heartache. Not only did she break her number one rule, she did it with the team voted most likely to attract trouble. Knowing this day would come didn't lessen the ache of her loss.

Though she considered them all her friends, she felt more than friendship for their leader. From the moment she set eyes on Colonel Jack O'Neill, she'd felt sexually attracted. The emotion took her by surprise. She'd thought her ex-husband had put her off men for life. Apparently, even a long dormant passion couldn't withstand the O'Neill charm. At the time, she had rationalized her response to be a purely physical attraction. A far cry from true friendship, but it was a start.

A sentence of life imprisonment on an alien planet would apparently be the end.

The nose twitching odor of disinfectant wafted under her door. It was a smell she associated with SG-1. Tears blurring her vision, she tried to remember when she first allowed the team to break through her defenses. When she first called them friends. Had it been the day three came home, leaving their conscience behind on a world of fire and water? Their reactions, the depth of pain in their eyes, had been unbearable to see. But it wasn't until she was alone in her office, trying to fill out the reports that she felt the desolation in her own soul. She was shocked at the strength of her feelings. Death wasn't a stranger. In her profession his visits were all too frequent and most often unexpected. But he seemed to have a particular penchant for Daniel Jackson. Until now, the young man had managed to elude the grim reaper's scythe. She could only hope he and the rest of SG-1 were continuing to do so. She wouldn't be there to clean their wounds.

The rose Cassandra had picked for her that morning swam into view. She pulled the vase closer, allowing its fragrance to purge the dark thoughts. A tear escaped from the corner of her eye as a quivering smile curved her lips. It had only been this morning that she had tossed the flowers Daniel had bought for Sam to cheer her up after her experience with Jolinar. The huge bouquet had dwarfed the young man carrying it, making him look sweet and silly at the same time.

Staring blankly at the wavering blue light dancing across her empty desk, Janet brushed the tear away and desperately searched for something to keep her mind and hands occupied. Something other than thoughts of her missing friends. If she couldn't think, maybe she wouldn't feel. Why was it the one time she wanted work to keep her busy, no one was sick, all the reports were updated, and the supplies inventoried? She came close to cursing the efficiency of her staff.

"Doctor Fraiser?"

Her heart aching, she put her hands over her ears, trying to block the unwanted sound. She could've sworn it was Daniel Jackson's voice calling her into the infirmary. But it couldn't be. He was a prisoner on a world halfway across the galaxy.

"Janet?"

Too many occasions of telling friends and family their loved ones were dead or dying provided her with the strength she needed to respond to the knock on her door. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head and gazed into blue eyes she thought she'd never see again.

"Janet, are you all right?" Daniel anxiously inquired.

Shock rendered her momentarily speechless. She stared at the slender figure leaning against the door jamb, uncertain whether he was really there or if her mind was playing a cruel trick. A hand tentatively reached out, anxious to confirm he was real. She pulled it back not yet ready to learn the truth. Tearing her gaze away, she looked past Daniel to where Teal'c stood patiently waiting for her next to one of the examining tables. When Jack O'Neill entered the infirmary followed closely by Sam and an unknown elderly woman, her heart slammed against her chest, letting her know she was in fact awake and not dreaming. A different fear from the one she'd been experiencing, filled her. Even from this distance, she could see the red mark partially circling O'Neill's neck. Burying her personal feelings behind a professional mask, she quickly rose.

A quick eye examination of each of the five individuals revealed the only obvious injury was to O'Neill. Crossing to the older man, she ordered, "On the table, Colonel."

Pointing at Daniel and Teal'c, Jack protested, "They were here first."

"This isn't a fast food restaurant, sir." Frowning at him, Janet accepted a pair of gloves from an aide and pulled them on. "We don't do first come, first served."

A scowl on his face, Jack climbed onto the nearest examination table. "For crying out loud, all I've got is a rope burn. Teal'c was stabbed, and Daniel was almost suffocated."

"What!" Janet knew she shouldn't be surprised by the revelation. When it came to SG-1, nothing was ever what it seemed. Waving a hand in the direction of the other male members of the team, she growled, "Each of you up on a table. Now!"

The two men moved with such alacrity Janet almost apologized. They were obviously interpreting her fear as anger. To hide her annoyance, she turned on the two women. "How about you?"

"We're fine," Carter quickly replied, holding her hands up in surrender. "Not a bruise between us."

Gently probing O'Neill's neck, Janet determined the rope burn was not only the Colonel's most obvious wound, it was also his only wound. Not enough pressure had been placed on the larynx to damage it. A superficial examination of the back of his neck revealed no Goa'uld entry scar.

Pulling off her gloves, she slipped into a fresh pair as she advanced on Daniel. Drawing closer, she could see the bruising on his throat. When she gently probed the damaged area, he winced, supporting her initial diagnosis the contusion was deep seated. Though nothing appeared to be broken, she would order x-rays on both men. When it came to the welfare of her patients, the budget went out the window. Or, in this case, should she say the wormhole?

Another change of gloves brought her to Teal'c's side. He had already removed his coat and shirt in an attempt to assist her. A nod of his head indicated the injury was to his right side.

Gently examining the torn flesh, Janet was happy to find Junior had already healed much of what must have been a shallow cut. There was barely an impression to show where the knife had penetrated. She managed to suppress a sigh of relief. Since her first encounter with the Jaffa, she'd lived in constant fear of Teal'c becoming mortally injured or ill. There had been no classes in medical school to show her how to treat a symbiont or its host. "You appear to be healing nicely, Teal'c."

"Thank you, Doctor Fraiser." Teal'c bowed his head to show his appreciation and pulled his black T-shirt over his head.

"So, can we go?" Jack demanded, jumping off his table.

"Only as far as the lab. I want MRI's on all of you." Janet glanced at the two women, including them in her order. "Then, Colonel, I want you and Daniel to get X-rays."

"There's nothing a throat lozenge won't fix."

"Humor me."

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"With all the X-rays I've been getting, I'm going to glow in the dark by the time I retire."

"The way you're going, Colonel, you won't live long enough to retire." Janet was embarrassed by the note of bitterness creeping into her voice. She was a doctor and in the military. Neither position tolerated open displays of emotion. Building a flimsy facade to temporarily hold back her despair, she scrawled instructions on a chart. "Standard radiology and laboratory protocols all around. For Dr. Jackson, add a stat 12 lead EKG plus stat AST, CK, and LDH. Oh, and do blood gases." She glanced at the archeologist; he seemed all right, however there was a possibility of cardiac damage.

She started to hand the clipboard to the nurse, but pulled it back before the other woman could get a firm grip on it. Her colleagues might accuse her of being overly cautious, but where this particular person was concerned she didn't care. "I want the same tests performed on Colonel O'Neill."

"That prison isn't looking so bad after all," Jack grumbled.

To hide their treachery, Janet slipped her trembling hands into the pockets of her lab coat. "Colonel, I want you, Daniel and Teal'c back here after your debriefing. I should have your test results by then."

As the men filed past, Janet felt Sam touch her arm. She cocked her head to show her appreciation of the understanding gesture, but kept her eyes averted. She didn't want to see the sympathy on her friend's face. Skating on thin ice, she was too fragile. Time would help her adjust to another miraculous return. She would be all right - until the next time they were overdue or failed to come back from a mission. Then it would all start again, the fear, the sense of loss, the sleepless nights.

© The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.