It was nearly noon by the time General Hammond found time to step away from his desk. Honestly, he knew it wasn’t because he was busy. He was always busy, but this time it was different. He knew what was waiting for him down in Iso room one and he wasn’t ready to face the fact that his best officer—and his friend—might not live.

He’d received Doctor Fraiser’s preliminary report several hours before and he had already been through it twice—not liking what he read. From what he could decipher, Colonel O’Neill had something lodged in his brain—some kind of metallic alien device that was fused directly with his brain tissue. Doctor Fraiser guessed that this was what had caused the Colonel such intense pain when he first awoke in the infirmary.

George could still remember the sound, the scream that ripped through the air sending an intense feeling of dread through his body, nearly stopping his own heart in fear. And all of this came from the man who downplayed every injury and never said boo even if he was in excruciating pain.

The pain must have been unimaginable for O’Neill to react so violently.

George rubbed a hand across his face as if the gesture would help to push away the images in his mind, the sounds, and the words in black-and-white staring at him accusingly from the pages of the report before him.

Doctor Fraiser didn’t have the skill required to extract the object, but she also couldn’t keep him sedated indefinitely. As it was, the drugs were wearing off quickly, much faster than Fraiser was expecting with Colonel O’Neill nearly regaining consciousness early this morning. Twice so far, when O’Neill had woken he’d seized and gone into cardiac arrest. The second time she nearly couldn’t bring him back. Doctor Fraiser didn’t want a repeat performance and George didn’t blame her.

Apparently the only person who could have removed the device was already dead—thanks to some masterful sword work. George was doubtful that she would have helped in the first place.

Fraiser needed another option.

If she—or the rest of the medical staff—were unable to come up with a plan, there was only one option available and that was one that George was not prepared for. None of them were, especially since they had only just got O’Neill back.

The halls around the Isolation rooms were quiet. He approached the window overlooking the room cautiously, not wanting to look, but needing to see what was down there. It was only after several minutes of standing there motionless that he realized he was holding his breath, as if his very exhalation would push his friend over the edge.

Teal’c was sitting next to the bed, while Doctor Jackson, Major Carter, and Doctor Fraiser were nowhere to be seen. Two nurses circled the room, checking and double-checking the monitors, taking notes in the charts they held in their hands, adjusting flow rates as needed.

Jack O’Neill was deathly still.

Granted, the thick leather restraints didn’t permit much movement, but that image, of O’Neill fully restrained, was something George was having problems stomaching. He was grateful that O’Neill was sedated.

Teal’c chose that moment to look up, catching George’s eye. He inclined his head toward the General—a gesture of respect, warrior to warrior—his dark eyes reflecting concern and a deep understanding of what everyone was going through. Teal’c was wise in ways none of them would ever be—except perhaps O’Neill—Teal’c’s youthful appearance belying his years.

A quiet sound—someone clearing his throat—caused George to snap his head around, his gaze locking with Doctor Jackson’s. "Were you looking for me, son?" George asked, his tone fatherly and compassionate.

"Well, General," Daniel started, stepping forward, his hands plunged deep into the pockets of his olive green BDUs, his black shirt oversized and hanging limply over his belt. "We’ve been thinking, ah, that is SG1 and Doctor Fraiser…and Jacob and Egan have been thinking and we might have come up with a solution to save Jack."

George couldn’t help but let the surprise filter onto his face. It was only a handful of hours later and they’d already managed to come up with a solution—working more or less through the night. "Well, let’s hear it Doctor Jackson."

"Well, sir, it’s a little farfetched, but we think it might work," Daniel said, his confidence growing. "There’s Goa’uld technology in Meath, sir and Caedmon, Egan’s brother, might be able to help us. Egan thinks his brother can use some of the devices Morgana created."

Less than twenty minutes later, General Hammond called to order a meeting in the rather crowded briefing room on level 28. Sam wasn’t surprised when Daniel jumped in immediately once silence settled over the room.

"It’s very simple, Sir. We have to take Jack back to Meath," Daniel said, leaning forward on his elbows, his voice passionate, a pencil clasped tightly between his fingers. Sam was nearly positive that with just a little more pressure the pencil would snap in half.

"Doctor Jackson, we’re here to discuss our options—" Hammond started but Daniel didn’t let him continue. Sam winced. Cutting off a General mid-sentence was usually not the best thing to do. While Hammond gave them plenty of leeway, there were times when he had to remind them of who was in charge. This, apparently, was one of those times.

"General, the only other option is to let Jack die and that’s not acceptable."

"Doctor Jackson," Hammond said, his tone mildly reprimanding the archeologist who finally got the hint, leaning back heavily in his chair, a sheepish expression on his face.

"Sorry, sir."

"Doctor, I can understand where you’re coming from, but we need to find the best plan for both Colonel O’Neill and the SGC."

Hammond held up his hand as soon as Daniel opened his mouth to speak again, stopping him before he launched into yet another lecture. "From the report submitted to me by Doctor Fraiser, surgery is not an option."

"No, sir," Janet said from her position at the far end of the briefing room table, sitting beside Jacob and across from Egan. "The device seems to be embedded in the very tissue of Colonel O’Neill’s brain and is somehow linked to his entire brain, including his spinal cord. I’m not sure how it got there in the first place and I don’t see any easy way of getting it out without doing major damage."

"But you think that it can be done?"

"Yes, sir," Janet said, nodding her head. "From what Jacob has been able to explain to me, the device is actually a variation of the memory device that we’ve already encountered. This one seems to have been modified."

Her father was nodding slightly as Janet spoke, waiting for the opportunity to speak. "George, from what I can see, Morgana has somehow changed the device. Instead of sitting on the surface, this one buries itself in the brain, connecting directly. If she didn’t change it completely, there should be another device that is used to control it. If we can get our hands on that device, we might stand a better chance when it comes for its removal. At the very least, we should be able to turn down the sensitivity, perhaps even shutting it down altogether."

"Are you suggesting that we leave it there?" Hammond asked.

"If we can shut it off, wouldn’t that be the safest route?"

"I have no desire to leave some piece of alien technology in my second-in-command’s head," Hammond said, rising to his feet, a bundle of energy fueled by anger, frustration, and pure adrenaline. Ever since they had arrived back on base last night—really this morning—no one had gotten the chance to rest. They were all working on caffeine and determination.

"George, I know how you feel, but for Jack’s sake—"

"Jake, there’s more to it than that and you know it. What if the Goa’uld find out he has this thing in his head and their technology can activate it, what would happen in the field? I can’t in good conscience reactivate him in his current condition even if the device is turned off."

"So General, we can’t do surgery, we can’t shut it off, where does that leave us?" Daniel asked, the only one brave enough to speak up when everyone else refused to make eye-contact, instead choosing to study finger nails and the grain in the briefing room table.

"That’s what we’re trying to decide, Doctor," Hammond snapped, turning back to the table and away from the glass overlooking the gateroom.

"General Hammond, would not it prove more beneficial for us to return to Meath and retrieve the items in question?" Teal’c asked, his hands clasped before him, his back perfectly straight, his gaze level.

"Doctor?" Hammond asked, turning to Janet.

"That sounds like the best way," Janet said, nodding slowly, thinking carefully about what needed to be done. "If Caedmon could come as well, we’d have his expertise."

"Janet, there’s one thing you’re not considering," Daniel said, his voice quiet as he leaned his head into the palm of his hand, his glasses hanging from his fingers. "What if something goes wrong? We’re at least four hours from Meath. What if you need that one thing we forgot to bring?"

"Then we take everything with us," Jacob said.

Sam nodded, looking at Egan. "As long as you were comfortable with us doing so, Egan. It’s probably Colonel O’Neill’s best chance."

"Whatever I can do to help, I am willing to do," Egan said, his head inclining toward Sam in a now familiar gesture.

Hammond looked around the table and after several beats of silence made his decision. "Well, then, it looks like we’re settled. Major Carter, I want you to prepare SG1 to return to Meath to retrieve whatever technology is necessary."

"Ah, no, sir," Daniel said, holding up his pointer finger.

"General there is one thing that we can’t transport: the sarcophagus."

"What?"

"Daniel? When did you see one of those?" Sam asked, her eyes wide. He’d never mentioned anything about a sarcophagus.

Daniel glanced over at Egan, clearly waiting for him to speak. "I showed him, Major Carter. One of these devices Morgana modified, the other she left the way she had found it."

"So how does this change things, Doctor Jackson? We can just bring the sarcophagus back to the SGC." Hammond stood with his arms crossed waiting for the answer.

"General, the sarcophagus is not easy to transport on a good day when it’s easily accessible. That device has probably been down in the foundations of the castle for hundreds of years. It’s not going to be easy and I don’t think Jack has enough time. Janet can do the extraction there."

"Daniel, I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing anything of the sort on an alien planet without all my equipment," Janet protested.

"Then we bring what you need. The sarcophagus can be our back-up." Daniel’s tone was even, his logic sound. Sam couldn’t argue with him. Besides, if something did go terribly wrong—although Janet could work miracles, the sarcophagus could bring the Colonel back to life.

"General, I’m going to have to agree with Daniel. It’s probably our best chance."

Hammond held her gaze for several minutes before glancing around the table, meeting everyone’s eyes, trying to see if there was anyone opposed to the decision.

"SG1, you’ll leave as soon as Doctor Fraiser’s ready. Take anyone you need. Dismissed."

It was two hours before Janet Fraiser was fully prepared to leave the SGC—although from the looks of things, she wasn’t happy about it. She kept sending evil looks his way. Daniel planned to avoid the infirmary for a very long time after this mission. While the Goa’uld were horrible, there was something about the petite doctor that frightened him in a much more personal way than any System Lord could.

Maybe Jack was right. Maybe it was because it involved large needles.

Daniel shrugged to himself, trying to focus on the mission at hand. Janet was bringing four people with her, Nurse Matthews and three orderlies—large men who Daniel figured would end up carrying Jack’s stretcher to Meath.

It wasn’t going to be an easy trip, but Daniel would go through the heart of a volcano if it would help.

The doors to the embarkation room slid open and Jack’s stretcher was wheeled in with him strapped securely to it. Janet had chosen one of the search and rescue stretchers figuring it would be easier to carry and it was designed for transporting injured people with places for IV bags and the like.

Sam, Jacob, and Egan walked in seconds later followed by Teal’c carrying his staff weapon.

General Hammond’s voice echoed throughout the room as the inner track of the Stargate began to spin. "Good luck and God speed, people."

"Thank you, General," Sam called out, turning to look at Jack before facing the Stargate. Daniel could see the lines of strain in her face. They desperately needed to rest, but until Jack was back in one piece, sleep would not come easily to any of them. They’d left him behind. It was now up to them to fix him.

The ka-whoosh of the wormhole startled Daniel, bringing him back to the present and away from his deeper, darker thoughts and doubts.

The cold of the wormhole didn’t seem so bad this time, Daniel thought. This time they’d bring Jack home.

Daniel was grateful for small favors—it only started to snow when they were entering Meath. The hike had been tough enough through the snow and ice the last time. The last thing they needed was more of the same.

Caedmon was waiting for them as they trudged the last few steps to the door. Someone had apparently seen them coming and had told him. Clasping his brother in a warm embrace, Caedmon pulled his brother into the castle allowing the orderlies to bring the stretcher into the warmth inside with everyone else following close behind.

Daniel sighed deeply as soon as he felt the heat from the huge fireplace hit his face when he walked into the main hall. They had placed Jack close to the fire, allowing Janet the chance to fuss over him some more. Even though Janet had prepared Jack with warm blankets and extra layers, she had been concerned the entire hike to the village—making them stop several times to check on him. Her expression was grim and even though she didn’t say anything, her actions were loud enough—they had to get that device out of Jack fast.

As they thawed out, removing jackets and various layers, Egan and Caedmon stood to the side speaking in intensely quiet tones. Daniel tried to edge closer without being obvious, but Sam caught his eye and nodded, flashing him a look that clearly told him to stay out of it. If Caedmon was not willing to help, they had already decided that they’d just have to figure it out themselves. Between Jacob and Sam, Daniel was convinced that they’d be able to figure out something.

Since he couldn’t get any closer to Egan, Daniel decided to use his time wisely. Sooner or later he was going to have to bite the bullet, better now than later. He knelt down next to Janet as she ran her various checks over Jack. "How’s he doing?" he asked quietly, trying to keep his voice low so as not to disturb anyone.

"He could be better," Janet said, her voice haggard. She aimed a particularly caustic glance his way. "I’d feel better if this was happening in my infirmary."

Daniel winced slightly. "Janet, I wouldn’t have recommended this if I thought it would cause more problems."

Janet sighed, turning again to face him. "I know, Daniel. It’s just that…this is bad. I’m just worried."

"I know. We all are," Daniel said smiling sympathetically just as a hand touched his shoulder. Looking up, Egan met his gaze.

"We should bring O’Neill downstairs. Caedmon will help us, but he has warned me that it will not be easy. No one has had the device in as long as O’Neill."

"Just lead the way," Janet said, rising to her feet.

Egan bowed slightly and signaled for two men to come forward. "Donat and Cavan will bring O’Neill. Hywel can escort some of you to quarters upstairs if you care to rest. I would recommend only a few attend the removal."

Janet nodded, understanding clearly shining in her eyes. They all knew that this could go badly. Even with the sarcophagus nearby, Colonel O’Neill would not want an audience. "Anne, take Mario, Quentin, and Stefan and go with Hywel. I need you to set up a recovery room for Colonel O’Neill."

"Yes, Doctor," Anne Matthews said, shouldering one of the large bags containing some of the portable medical equipment Janet has insisted on bringing.

"Hywel," Egan said, gesturing for the man to come forward. "I want you to give our quests connecting quarters in the East wing. Whatever they need, see that it is done."

"Yes, my Lord," Hywel said, bowing before he turned to Anne and offered a smile. "My Lady, would you follow me?"

As they walked out of the door, Anne sent an amazed glance over one of her shoulders to Janet that Daniel caught. He had to smile. Her first time off world and Anne was already making friends.

Daniel dragged himself back to the present, watching as the two large Meath guards gently lifted the stretcher bearing Jack and started out the door, forcing the rest of them to follow meekly behind. Daniel knew where they were going this time—the one place he had hoped he never had to see again, to be reminded…

Daniel shook his head, trying to clear it as Sam placed a hand on his arm. "Daniel?"

"I’m okay. Just thinking."

"I can see that," Sam said, her voice holding a note of amusement. "Do you always talk to yourself when you’re nervous?"

Daniel glanced over quickly, surprise clearly on his face. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you’ve been playing with your glasses non-stop since we got here. You’re hands keep moving, and now you’re talking to yourself. I’ve never seen you this anxious." While Sam’s voice held a certain amount of humor, Daniel could see the concern and compassion hovering just beneath the surface. She was worried too, he knew. It was at these moments that he missed Jack’s sense of humor the most. His comments—while usually inappropriate and sarcastic—generally helped to break the tension of the moment. As long as Jack could joke about a situation, then it wasn’t that bad. It was when he got all serious that you knew that there was trouble—big trouble.

The hallway was just as dark and narrow as Daniel remembered; the stale smell of the air tickling his nose. As they walked past the cells Sam paused outside one of them and Daniel instinctively knew which one it was. Teal’c, noting Sam’s movement into the room, stepped back several paces, standing in the doorway beside Daniel.

Standing the middle of the small room, Sam’s shoulders slumped as she crossed her arms in front of her body, hugging them close to her as if she had gotten a chill. Daniel stepped a few paces forward before Sam’s voice stopped him.

"How long was he here?"

"I don’t know exactly, Sam," Daniel said, quietly, his voice somehow carrying across the empty space. His hands were deep in his pockets and he couldn’t help but wonder at what Sam was thinking at this very minute.

She turned around a minute later, with tears in her eyes, looking at him in pure anguish. "We left him here, Daniel. We left him here to die."

Daniel stepped forward, grabbing her in a warm embrace. Teal’c’s voice pulled them back. "We cannot change what has occurred here. Instead, we much choose to press on. We have but a short time and it is what we do with the time that we have that defines us." He stepped closer, resting a hand on Sam and Daniel’s shoulders. "Even in the midst of darkness, there is always hope."

They were silent for several moments, before Daniel was able to find his voice. "Teal’c, I never took you for a philosopher."

Teal’c merely raised his eyebrow, a glint of understanding and brotherhood shining from the depths of his darkened eyes. "Come, let us finish the journey as we started, together."

Daniel nodded, feeling Sam straighten next to him. They walked out of the room, their heads erect, without looking back.

When they entered the room at the end of the hallway, Sam nearly stopped dead in her tracks. Daniel hadn’t been kidding when he said the Goa’uld had been here, she thought, taking in the gaudy gold furnishings, the various cabinets and shelves built into the walls, the hieroglyphs covering every space surface. Colonel O’Neill had been placed on a table in the center of the room, the thin medical scrubs providing little protection against the chill in the room.

Daniel immediately stepped close to Egan, his voice rising in anger as he pointed at the metal table. "You’re going to put him back on that table?"

"Doctor Jackson, where else would you have us put him?" Egan asked calmly, his voice level, his hands clasped lightly before him. "It is for his benefit. The table will offer life support if there are complications."

"Complications? What do you mean?" Janet asked, looking up sharply at the two men from where she was going through one of her medical bags.

"Although Caedmon does not expect any complications, he believes it would be best to be cautious, that is all."

"Daniel," Sam asked, stepping forward. "Are you okay with this?"

His eyes looked troubled, but he absently nodded his head, his gaze never leaving the Colonel’s pale face.

Caedmon chose that moment to step forward, a palm-sized device in his hand. He glanced around the room, looking at everyone, holding their gaze for the space of a moment before moving onto the next person. The silence was absolute.

"I will not fool you. This procedure will be painful for O’Neill and all those present. Do you wish me to continue?"

It was Daniel who finally answered, echoing the answer that was in everyone’s heart and mind. "Please, continue. It can’t get much worse than it already has been."

"Very well," Caedmon said. "I will need to activate the table’s restraint system. Any movement could cause severe consequences."

Daniel nodded silently, his eyes wide. Sam stepped close, their shoulders brushing, giving each of them a measure of comfort and support.

Caedmon reached under the edge of the table, pressing several buttons and the surface of the table came to life, surging upward, covering the Colonel in a shimmering coating of metal. Janet pushed forward, about to protest, when Teal’c gently restrained her. "Caedmon will not harm him. Trust him."

A few seconds later, the metal retracted, leaving the Colonel securely bound to the table. Sam was amazed at the technology. A cap of sorts had also formed, effectively encasing the Colonel’s head and melding into the restraint at his neck, holding his head secure and still. Glancing over, she noticed that Janet and Daniel looked a little panicked, but they were all drawing support from each other. Her father was looking on in amazement, Selmac probably providing him a measure of detachment.

"I am first going to turn the device off before I remove it," Caedmon said, turning several of the small dials on the hand-held device and pressing it to the Colonel’s temple. After a few seconds, Caedmon glanced up, catching her eye. "That part is done. The next will be painful. I would suggest that someone prepare the sarcophagus in the adjoining room. I do not think it will be necessary, but would rather be prepared," he said, as her father moved confidently to the door at the back of the room, switching on the light as he entered. Caedmon turned to Janet. "Doctor Fraiser, please prepare bandages to dress his wound."

He adjusted several more dials before pressing it once again to the Colonel’s temple. This time, O’Neill groaned, the sound coming from deep within his body. Daniel stepped forward immediately, his hand resting on the Colonel’s arm trying to offer support and comfort although Sam doubted O’Neill was conscious of anything except the pain. Unbeknownst to her, she had also stepped forward, as had Teal’c, placing their hands on the Colonel, holding his hand or arm, as the case may be.

As the seconds passed, O’Neill’s moans increased in volume, his eyes starting to twitch, his hands beginning to clench.

"How much more?" Daniel asked, voicing the question that was running through her mind.

"When it is done," came Caedmon’s cryptic reply.

Daniel rolled his eyes and leaned down, speaking quietly and calmly in the Colonel’s ear. "Jack, I don’t know if you can hear me or if you understand, but we’re here with you. We’re trying to make you better. I know it hurts now and you’ve been in so much pain, but trust me, this is the end. You just have to fight for a little while longer and then you can rest. Jack, we’re here with you. Hang in there."

Daniel’s repeated the words over and over again, trying to soothe his friend as O’Neill’s moans finally turned into a blood-curdling scream that was cut off midway.

"What happened?" Janet asked, her voice frantic as she tried to push her way closer to the table.

"It is done," Caedmon said simply, holding a blood-covered metal disk in his hand.

"Then release him and let me treat him," Janet said, pushing forward, a gauze pad already pressed against the Colonel’s temple trying to staunch the flow of blood.

Egan stepped forward, pressing several buttons as the restraints melted away into the table surface as if they had never existed. Janet got to work quickly, cleaning and bandaging the wound that was not as large as Sam expected. She was also surprised that the Colonel had remained unconscious for the procedure. She didn’t think that was possible—although the table itself could have enhanced the sedatives already running through his system.

Several minutes later, Janet looked up, her eyes meeting Teal’c’s. "Can you bring him upstairs? It’ll be faster than carrying up a loaded stretcher."

"As you wish Doctor Fraiser," Teal’c said, reaching down to grasp O’Neill’s limp body, the Colonel appearing small in the Jaffa’s arms.

Once they were upstairs, the Colonel was placed in one of the large beds where Anne Matthews had set up complete with an IV drip and a portable heart monitor. Janet settled him in the bed quickly before shooing everyone off to bed.

"He won’t wake up for some time yet and I want all of you to get some rest. Anne can keep an eye on the Colonel."

"I will also remain," Teal’c said, standing immovably inside the door.

"Teal’c, you need to kel’no’reem as much as the rest of us need to sleep," Janet said adamantly.

"I can meditate here effectively, Doctor Fraiser."

"Teal’c…" Janet started, but caught Teal’c’s impassive gaze and finally relented. "Fine, as long as you promise to get some rest you can stay. But the rest of you," Janet said turning back to the rest of the group. "Off to bed. Egan, where did you put us?"

"I believe Hywel has left this entire suite of rooms for you. There are four bedrooms in addition to the one O’Neill is occupying. There is also an adjoining suite through the doors where the rest of your party is resting. Please make yourself comfortable. There is some food and drink on the sideboard. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask any one of the house servants."

Sam gave Egan a grateful smile. "Thank you, Egan for your hospitality and all of your help. We really appreciate it."

"It is I who am grateful, my Lady. It was because of O’Neill that we are able to move forward with friends such as you. I bid you good night."

Where was he?

Jack awoke slowly, the muted sounds of voices coming from a distance and the insistent beeping of a solitary monitor close by. The smells, though, were wrong. Instead of the antiseptic smells of the infirmary that he was used to, instead there was something else—a smell he couldn’t place but was comfortably familiar.

His eyes were heavy, too heavy for him to even think of opening. He wasn’t ready to face whatever was around him. His memories were jumbled, images flashing and running together, melding into one confusing symphony of noise and images.

He drifted lightly, surfing through his memories, trying to piece things together, to place the memories in some kind of context, to help him figure out where he was. The only thing that really stood out was Morgana. She had to be here somewhere, although, he couldn’t smell her.

Whenever she was around, you knew she was there. There was electricity in the air when she was in the room and her smell just enveloped you.

It was gone now.

The voices were familiar, but somehow out of reach. The muted voices, rising and falling in conversation. The accents familiar, the tones a constant companion.

He was alive. That much he figured because the afterlife shouldn’t hurt so much. Jack wasn’t sure if it was the memories, the images, or something else that was causing the most pain.

He smelled snow.

It was a distinctive smell. It wrapped around you, holding you close until you just had to breath deeply, taking in the air, the crisp, cold air, just before the snow started falling.

It didn’t snow on Lel this time of year—at least that’s what Paebel had said.

A rising surge of panic started to come from the depths of his body. Memories were starting to come together. He could remember the pain, the blood, the gore, the clanging of swords, the muffled thump as sword met flesh, the cries of anguish, the full-bodied howl of hatred, the last exhale of a dying man. But most of all, he could remember the rage, his rage.

Morgana was dead.

Killed.

Struck dead by Egan.

He remembered it now. The rebels had entered the city, crashing into the room brandishing swords and weapons, wreaking havoc and killing innocent men—good men, young men. Leaving them to lie on the floor in their quickly cooling pools of blood.

The red blood staining the pure white carpets.

Daniel.

Daniel had been there.

He remembered that now. He remembered Teal’c. They weren’t rebels. But, they’d fought against him. They killed Morgana.

He didn’t understand.

He didn’t understand why he could remember Daniel.

He didn’t understand why the pain hadn’t returned as it once had.

There must be something wrong. He was always punished for bad thoughts, for remembering.

He smelled snow.

He struggled to open his eyes. He had to see where he was. He couldn’t stand another day in the dungeons. He’d died a thousand times already. He couldn’t fight anymore.

He was tired.

He’d apologized. He’d apologized for everything he’d done. That should have been enough. Why couldn’t it have been enough? Why was it never enough?

Daniel stretched and yawned, finally feeling like himself as he hoisted himself out of bed. Grabbing his glasses off the nightstand, he peered at his watch, trying to remember if he’d changed it to local time. He could never remember what time it was anymore.

They’d been here two days already and Jack wouldn’t wake up.

It was starting to get frustrating. Stepping out into the main chamber, Daniel saw that food was set up—something a cross between breakfast and lunch. Apparently, he’d missed breakfast again. He just hoped there would be some Erskine around. He’d gotten quite a taste for it.

Teal’c and Sam should have gone back to the SGC to report in to General Hammond. Jacob had left yesterday claiming that he needed to report back to the Tok’ra. He was apparently overdue.

Janet and Nurse Matthews were still here, quietly conversing by the fireplace, just outside Jack’s open door. Peering in, Daniel could see that Jack was still sleeping, his body shifted slightly from how he’d been lying the last time. Daniel expected Janet and Anne were trying to keep Jack comfortable. There was no reason for Jack to suffer from bed sores or the like just because he was on another planet.

Walking to the sideboard, Daniel spotted a pot of Erskine and poured himself a mug-full before turning to the two women. "Morning," he said sheepishly, taking a quick sip from the mug and flashing a smile.

"Morning, Daniel," Janet said, her eyes light. "It’s about time you were up."

"How’s Jack?" Daniel asked, moving to perch on the arm of a nearby chair, allowing him to watch Jack while he talked.

"As far as I can tell, better. His pressure’s come up and it seems that he’s healing quickly—the usual Jack O’Neill," Janet smiled, briefly before her face turned dark. "Although, I am a little concerned. He’s not responding as well as he should. His reflexes are delayed and he should have showed some sign of waking already."

"Why didn’t you say something before?" Daniel stood and the liquid in his mug spilling on his hand.

Janet raised her voice a little, trying to keep her voice calm. "Because that was just the reaction I was hoping to avoid."

"Oh," Daniel said, looking away briefly. "If you don’t mind, I’m going to sit with Jack."

"Go ahead, Daniel," Janet said softly with a knowing smile. "I’m sure he knows you’re there."

"Thanks, Janet," he said, pausing at the door to Jack’s room before he moved quietly to sit at the bedside. Although Jack was lying peacefully, every now and then Daniel would notice one of Jack’s eyelids twitching, a finger moving, a slight shifting of his weight.

Jack was waking.

"Jack," Daniel said, swiftly pulling his cup down and ignoring the splashing liquid on his fingers. Daniel leaned forward, taking Jack’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. "Jack, you’re safe. I’m here with you. You don’t have to worry. You’re getting better. Can you open your eyes? Jack, can you understand me?" When he got a weak pressure on his hand, Daniel turned to the open door, raising his voice to carry into the room. "Janet, Jack’s waking."

A soft flutter of movement beside him heralded the arrival of Anne and Janet, checking the monitors and their patient. Janet reached under the covers to grab Jack’s other hand, careful not to disturb the IV drip running into the back of it. "Colonel O’Neill, it’s time for you to wake up. Can you open your eyes for me, sir?"

Daniel looked inquiringly at her and she quickly shook her head. Nothing.

"Jack, we’re here. You’re safe. We’d really like you to wake up because you’re starting to worry us." When Janet shot him a look of annoyance, Daniel shrugged. It was the best they could come up with, but apparently, it was enough. Jack’s eyes twitched again several times before they slowly opened, trying to focus on the faces before him.

"Doc?" Jack asked, his forehead creasing in pain and concentration.

"Welcome back, Colonel," Janet said, the relief clearly evident in her voice. "Good to see you again. How are you feeling?"

"Confused…thirsty," Jack answered several beats later.

"We’ll we can take care of the latter one easily enough," Janet said, gesturing for Anne to grab some water. There were no ice chips around—as long as you didn’t count the snow. "Here you go, Colonel." Janet said, helping lift Jack a little to take a sip from the straw.

"Daniel…" Jack said a moment later as Janet started running some quick tests, checking his current level of awareness. It was something members of SG1 were intimately familiar with due, primarily, to their many trips to the infirmary.

"I’m here, Jack," Daniel said, squeezing Jack’s hand. Jack’s head turned slightly, his brown eyes finally resting on Daniel’s face.

"You…were…there…"

"Where Jack?"

"…Morgana…"

Daniel closed his eyes before he answered. Although Jack’s eyes were still a little cloudy, they were still hard to face. Daniel chose the easy way out for now, although knowing Jack that wouldn’t last for long. "Yes, Jack. I was there and I’m here with you now. Rest Jack. You’re safe."

Jack nodded slightly, his eyes closing again as he drifted off to sleep. Daniel looked across Jack’s sleeping form at Janet, a question forming on his lips. She nodded vigorously and indicated that he should follow her out of the room back into the main chamber.

"How is he, Janet? Be honest," Daniel said quietly once they’d walked far enough away. Anne was still in the room fussing over Jack.

"He’s not as alert as I’d like to see. I hope that the device didn’t do any permanent damage. We’ll know more as time goes on," Janet said, her eyes taking on a faraway look.

"Janet?" Daniel asked, prompting her to continue.

She looked up sharply, seemingly surprised by the sound of Daniel’s voice. "Give him time, Daniel. He’s been through the wringer. Give him time." Janet patted Daniel’s arm lightly before walking away, her expression pensive.

Daniel glanced back toward his friend, sighing deeply before moving quietly back into the room. Jack never did things halfway, that was for sure. He just wished it didn’t always involve some type of bodily harm.

Daniel sank down in the bedside chair, thankful it wasn’t the hard plastic he was used to in the infirmary. At least, he’d be comfortable. Daniel reached down to grab one of his books, turning to the spot he’d left off, and settled in for an afternoon of reading.