Raising his eyes to the horizon, Teal'c scanned the area surrounding the Stargate looking for any telltale signs of change from the night before.

General Hammond had been true to his words. Less than two hours after their conversation, he had been summoned to the General's office and upon arrival had been informed that he would be accompanying SG-3 to the planet to search for SG-1. While General Hammond had been apologetic about the SGC's limited resources, Teal'c understood. As First Prime of Apophis there had been many occasions when Teal'c had had to make decisions about deploying limited resources. Sometimes, you had to manage with the items with which you were provided.

In this case, Teal'c just hoped it was enough.

Shaking his head in an effort to get rid of his dark thoughts, Teal'c spotted Major Peterson and the rest of SG-3 several yards ahead, scouting the area, checking to make sure everything was clear. To Teal'c's eye, there had been no change—even the expectant air of the planet had not altered.

If only that was enough.

Jack coughed agony spreading through his chest and abdomen, the tendrils of the pain sneaking into his extremities. His wheezing was accompanied only by the hitching of his breath as the air lodged itself in his throat, scraping past the soreness that lay within.

The oozing had gotten worse, the drops falling at a steadier rate, trailing down his bare back, the red mixing with the beads of sweat that coated his body.

He only wanted a few simple things.

For the pain to end.

For his team to be safe.

And he prayed that they didn't come looking for him. If they somehow caught whatever he had…

He moaned, partly from the pain, partly from the thoughts running through his head. He knew his team, he knew what they'd do. Sooner or later they'd come for him and no matter when that happened, there was nothing he could do to stop them.

He could only hope and pray that it didn't happen to them.

His breath rattled in his chest, each exhalation becoming shallower, the very air around him getting too thick to breathe.

He was drifting already. Inch by inch his grip on this life was slipping.

And soon he would be gone, another quickly fading memory, another line in a record book.

Time was counting down, ticking away. Every passing moment meant one less they had to find their way home.

But they couldn't leave without their friend, without Jack. If one thing Jack managed to drill into Daniel's head, the "never leave anyone behind" motto was it. And he had every intention of sticking to it.

They'd left the room where they'd been imprisoned at a run, but it was difficult, retracing their steps, finding the right hallways, the right path back to the laboratory. They'd had to slow down to look for landmarks, to look for rooms and signs that they remembered. One wrong turn and they could end up on the wrong side of the facility. And that was the last thing they wanted to happen. There was too much at stake—something they didn't mention out loud but was hard to forget.

Apart from the pounding of their boots on the floor and their panting breaths, the hallways were quiet.

Too quiet.

The silence was eerie.

"Daniel, I think I see it," Sam said, her hushed voice loud, the words thrown over her shoulder as her feet brought her closer to their destination.
It looked just like every other corridor. How could she be so sure?

Daniel craned his neck to get a glimpse of what was up ahead, trying to remember exactly what had caught his attention the first time they'd come this way. The lighting had been unusual; he remembered that.

But now things were different. The gentle light that had hovered overhead, following their every step, had been replaced by an all-encompassing glare, the too-white light permeating every inch of the hallways, making things look shades different than before.

But as they strode forward, things began to look familiar. This was it. Sam was right. They'd found the laboratory.

Turning the final corner they entered the dimly lit room, searching for any sign of their friend. The shackles hung silently at the far end, empty and unmoving. The Tok'ra were still encased in their glass coffins, their faces permanently locked in pain and anguish, even the slumber of death not removing the evidence of the horrible deaths they had experienced.

The metal tables and machinery gleamed wherever the light touched it, giving off an air of cleanliness, of order, of purpose. Daniel knew, however, the truth behind that pretense, the disgusting practices that occurred here.

Threading their way through the maze of furniture and cabinetry, their eyes searched every corner, slowly and thoroughly checking to make sure they didn't miss a single inch.

Just under the shackles, however, there was a small metal table, a single light shining from overhead.

Daniel surged forward, recognizing the remains of the drab green BDUs adorning the unmoving figure, their once pristine appearance marked by darker patches, a color Daniel recognized but did not want to acknowledge.

He slowed as he approached, ever mindful of the force fields the Yalamanchi favored. He had no intention of doing anything that might delay their departure.

He must have cried out when he'd spotted Jack because Sam appeared at his side a few moments later, her strides matching his as they approached the table and their friend.

The closer they got, the more Daniel just wanted to turn and run, puking his guts out in some lonely corner, far away from the sight of his friend. What skin Daniel could see was tinged yellow and streaked with bruises and an angry rash. The trails of drying blood only emphasized the horror Jack had endured.

The abrupt appearance of a force shield however, quickly brought their forward movement to an end, sending them back a few paces to where they stood and stared. Was this why Kyran had laughed at the thought of them going to find Jack? Why he said it was a waste of time? There was no way they were going to get through the shield, but how could they just leave Jack here to die?

As it was, the man was still alive, if you could call it that, the wheezing of his breath the only indication of his continued existence. His knees were drawn up toward his chest and he clutched at his abdomen, the pain he endured radiating off of him in waves and etched into every line of his face.

"Oh, God," Sam said, her voice trailing off, her hand moving to cover her mouth.

Daniel couldn't agree more.

"He's still alive, Sam," Daniel said. "We have to do something."

She turned toward him, her blue eyes wide and filled with pain. "What can we do? I don't even know where to start." She gestured widely, the wave of her hand taking in the entire room and all of its equipment.

"But what choice do we have? We can't just leave. We have to try something, anything. We owe him that much at least."

Sam sighed, turning to glance around the room, her eyes searching for a place to start. One of these panels had to operate the shield, but which one?

It could take hours to find the right one. Hours they didn't have.

Daniel, though, found it hard to look anywhere else except at his friend who was lying on the other side of the force field.

Daniel didn't want to look but he couldn't turn away.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sam move off, taking a closer look at some of the equipment and the panels, obviously trying to figure them out, trying to find something that could help them.

They needed a miracle.

Jack roused slightly, the pain running though his abdomen suddenly stabbing in its intensity.

He couldn't still be alive, could he?

But even as he rode out the agony, he knew there was something else that had caught his attention. A sound, or something.

No. It had been a voice. Two voices, talking quietly, but speaking in familiar tones.

When realization dawned, Jack's heart sank. Carter and Daniel were here—unless his mind had started playing tricks on him. It was possible.
Cranking open an eyelid barely a slit, the room swam into focus. His eye teared as the dim light hit, but he forced it to remain open. He had to know, he had to see.

He didn't like what he saw.

For the briefest of moments, Daniel swore that Jack was looking at him, the chocolate brown eyes gazing out across the distance.

Leaning forward, his body skimmed the edge of the force field, a tingling sensation racing along his skin.

He stepped back a few paces, shock flowing through his senses. Jack was conscious.

"Oh, God, Sam, Jack's…" Daniel trailed off as he tried to move in closer, the field rebuffing his attempts. "Jack, we're trying to get you out of there. We'll get you home and have Janet fix you up. You'll be as good as new."

Sam's sharp inhalation beside him was his only indication that the Captain had joined him. Even as she tried to school her face into an unfeeling mask, much in the same way that Jack would have, shock and pity alternated with disgust and empathy.

"Sir, we're working on trying to get the shield down. Then we'll get you right out."

"No…"

Jack's quiet words, filled with pain, barely reached their ears. Daniel turned to his friend, feeling his eyes widen. "What do you mean, no? We have to get you home. We just can't leave you here."

"No…go…"

A cough prevented Jack from continuing, his face screwing up in obvious agony.

"But Jack—" Daniel protested once Jack quieted down. In the back of his mind though, Daniel knew there was a distinct possibility that Jack would never go home again. Jack's next words just sealed his fate.

"Disease…virus…something contagious."

Daniel turned away, knowing the anger and pain was running across his own face. He listened as Sam's quiet words floated through the air.

"Are you sure, Sir?"

"Yes…last stage."

"Sir, I'm sure Janet can figure something out. We can take you home. We can make sure you're isolated. Decontaminate the corridors."

"Don't want to risk it…appreciate the gesture…go."

"Sir, we're willing to risk it. You'd do the same for us."

"No, Carter. Go."

"We can't just leave you here."

Daniel whirled around, anger in his voice. "You can't just give up, Jack."

A soft, pain-filled chuckle reached Daniel's ears, cooling whatever heat had arisen. "Not giving up. Just a realist. Go."

Even without the power normally behind that last word, Daniel knew an order when he heard it—even though he generally didn't listen.

But how could you argue with a dying man's last wish?

Glancing at Daniel standing beside her, anguish written in his face, tension permeating his body, Sam did the hardest thing possible: pulling her teammate away from a friend.

"Daniel, we have to go. We don't have much time."

He shrugged her off, moving a step closer, the force field sparking where his body made contact.

She closed her eyes, trying to dig up her conviction, her confidence. Most of it, however, was lying about ten feet away.

The Colonel's eyes met hers for an instant, a silent message passing between them along with a simple order, a simple request. Get the team home.

With that one glance, the Colonel passed the responsibility onto her, the weight settling heavily on her shoulders. She reached out once again, her hand snagging Daniel's arm. "We really have to go."

The archeologist nodded slowly, allowing himself to be pulled away, their downtrodden footfalls the only sound in the cavernous room as they slowly moved back to the entrance; ever cognizant of the friend they were leaving behind.

Sam wanted to vomit, just to get rid of the sickening feeling racking her body. She was supposed to fix things, find solutions. This was not how it was supposed to end.

In a daze, Daniel let Sam lead him toward the door and freedom. They had less than three hours to find an exit, less than three hours before they committed their friend to certain death.

Stopping in his tracks, Sam tried to tug him forward, but he refused to move, his feet steadfast.

"Daniel—" Sam said, turning around to try and urge him forward once again, but he shook his head.

"No, I'm not leaving."

"But the Colonel—"

"I know, Sam, but…but how can you just leave him like that?"

"You heard him, Daniel. Would you rather get a contagious, terminal disease on the oft-chance that we might be able to find a cure before he dies?" Her words, although harsh, held a ring of truth that Daniel couldn't deny. But, he couldn't do it. He couldn't leave.

"You go. I'm staying."

Sam sighed. "Daniel, you're probably writing your own death sentence and I should be dragging you out of the door instead of arguing with you."

"Why aren't you?" Daniel asked, his eyes narrowing at the Captain. When he wouldn't meet his gaze he knew. "You can't do it either can you?"

She walked a few steps away, her shoulders slumped, indecision in ever movement.

Daniel let her go, silently scanning the room around them, his eyes searching for anything that might help them.

The door sliding closed in front of them, however, wasn't part of their plan.

"Uh, Sam..." he said, pulling her attention back toward him. The Captain turned and he gestured to the now closed door, her widening eyes her only response. "It looks like the decision was made for us."

"But they said we'd have five hours. We still have time," Sam said, glancing at her watch, checking their countdown clock.

"You do indeed," came a voice from behind, spinning Daniel around, his eyes meeting the pale eyes of the female alien they'd spoken to before. The same one who'd healed them.

"I've turned off the monitoring devices in this room. I believe I can be of some assistance to you."

"Why are you helping us?" Sam asked, stepping forward, her hands on her hips, uncertainty and defiance in her stance.

"Because it is the right thing to do. Events should not have progressed as they have," the woman answered simply as she turned to walk toward the back of the room, to where their friend lay dying.

After several beats of silence Daniel turned, following the alien, Sam matching his strides as they walked abreast of each other, retracing their steps.

The force field sparked gently as the woman glided through it before settling back to its normal transparent state. She paced around the table, her eyes never leaving Jack's still form. She paused at the head of the table, her fingers brushing a few errant strands of hair from his forehead. As he stirred from his half-unconscious state, beginning to protest about her presence beside him, she leaned down close to his ear, whispering quiet words that stilled Jack's movements instantly.

She moved once again standing behind him, her hands slowly rolling Jack onto his back under a hail of muttered curses and hisses of pain. Daniel cringed as all of Jack came into view. The damage to his friend's body was worse than Daniel originally thought, not one inch of it untouched in one form or another.

Her touch on Jack's body held him down, even as he tried to curl back into the fetal position he'd been lying in, as if that position would contain the pain that he evidently was experiencing.

Taking a deep breath the woman stretched out her hands, moving one to the center of Jack's chest, the other she placed on his forehead, her fingers grazing against his skin before settling down. Closing her eyes, she bent her head and was silent.

The waiting was the worst.

Was it working? Would she heal him, could she?

Daniel found himself holding his breath, praying that it would be the miracle Jack needed. Narrowing his eyes, though, he realized that something had changed. The woman looked different. She'd turned a yellowish hue.

"Sam?" Daniel whispered, tearing his eyes away from the struggle going on before them. "Is she?"

Sam nodded, her own eyes wide. "Look at the Colonel. It's working."

Turning back, Daniel looked closer, realizing that they weren't imagining things. The tone of Jack's skin, while still bruised and covered in an angry rash, had shifted. But even as he watched, the dark spots began fading before their very eyes, Jack's skin slowly returning to a more normal—if somewhat pale—shade.

The woman, on the other hand, had changed dramatically. Where nearly transparent skin existed before, it was now covered with bruises and welts, a bright-red rash disappearing beneath her flowing white robes. But as quickly as it appeared, it too began to fade until it was gone once again.

Breathing deeper and with an audible swallow, she ducked her head again, intense concentration on her face.

As they watched, step-by-step Jack was healed, some injuries more evident than others. How long it took, Daniel did not know, nor did he care. When the alien finally stepped back, exhaustion lining every feature, she opened her eyes, her gaze resting briefly on both Sam and Daniel. Her eyes held a note of apology, sending a knife deep into Daniel's heart.

It had been too much. She wasn't able to complete the process.

A cry of despair welled up from within, but he held it back, refusing to believe. She had to have healed Jack. She'd healed everyone else, why not him?

The alien's trembling fingers fumbled at the device on her wrist before finally finding their goal, the force shield dropping with a silent flash.
Daniel nearly missed catching her as she crumpled.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered as her eyes drifted closed. Daniel glanced up toward Sam as he cradled the feather-light alien in his arms.

"How's Jack?" Daniel asked urgently as Sam took stock of their friend's vitals.

"Unconscious," she replied, her hands hovering over Jack's half-naked body as if unsure where to check and what to do. A few beats later, however, her fingers found their way, resting against Jack's carotid artery, the Colonel stirring slightly under her touch. "His pulse seems good and strong," she reported, the military-minded Captain finally finding the detachment she needed. "It looks like she did a good job in healing him, but wasn't able to complete it."

"Jack was dying, Sam. She brought him back."

"I know, Daniel. But was it enough?"