Janet paused for a moment outside the drawn curtain, took a deep breath and put her doctor face back on. For almost six years now, she'd been watching her friends - her family -- stride out into the Universe and for almost six years now, she'd watched the Universe spit them back in pieces. On the calendar over her desk, she circled the days she didn't end up with familiar blood on her hands. If there were more than a dozen at the end of the month, she took her entire staff out for drinks - her way, their way, of spitting back at the Universe.
Her fingers closed around the edge of curtain. No blood today. Waiting for the tests to come back from the lab, she'd stared at her calendar, picked up a black marker and blotted the day out completely. Then the month. Then she'd thrown the marker hard enough to crack the glass in her office door. She wanted to hurt the people who had done this. Wanted to hurt them in ways that blew right past oaths and discipline and...
Another deep breath. Doctor thoughts to go with the doctor face. Doctor emotions.
"Janet?"
Squaring her shoulders, she opened the curtains, and smiled down at the woman on the bed. "Good news, Sam. All the tests came back clean."
"Good." The one eye not swollen shut closed briefly, opened again, and locked on Janet's face. "Because, really, all I needed was to have caught something. Icing on the cake time."
"No icing. Just cracked ribs, two broken fingers, a rather remarkable set of bruises, and a best shiner that's come through here in months."
Sam's tongue touched the swelling that had puffed one side out her mouth out to twice its normal size. "You forgot the fat lip."
"Sorry." And just for a second, in the middle of that word, she lost control of her voice. As Sam's shoulders tensed - ready to meet anything she saw as pity with all guns blazing -- Janet managed to find it again. "And a fat lip. But no icing. No cake either."
"No cake?" The sigh was dramatic. "Too bad, I could really go for some cake."
"Yeah. Me too." Cake and ice cream and sugar and fat and all the things women turned to when life sucked. She saw Sam recognize the thought, saw what was almost a real smile, and pulled the ubiquitous orange plastic chair closer to the bed. "So." It took her a moment to get settled and when she was, she linked her fingers carefully through Sam's. "How are you feeling?"
Sam glanced down at their linked hands. Looked at them for a long moment. Then she sighed and relaxed back against the pillow. "Like the other shoe has dropped."
"I don't..."
"Did you know that when women started flying combat missions, we were taken aside and told what we could expect, as women, if we went down behind enemy lines?"
Janet nodded. "I know."
"Well, we've been flying combat missions through that wormhole for over five years now. We've been captured..." She rolled her one usable eye. "God, Janet, I've lost track of how many times and by who. In a way, this was... I don't know, inevitable. Ow."
Loosening her grip on Sam's hand meant closing her other hand around the edge of the chair until the plastic creaked. "Sorry."
"It's okay. Not inevitable then, but not unexpected either. I've been hurt worse."
"I know." Too much blood. Too many times.
"And in spite of the rhetoric, it's not a fate worse than death. Not that I've been dead..." She frowned. "Well, not for long enough to count anyway. And I know it had less than nothing to do with me, personally. Just a specific kind of beating when you get right down to it." A short pause. And a shallow sigh, bound by the cracked rib. "I guess I'm just kind of glad it's over. Been there, done that. Picked myself up and moved on."
Janet concentrated on breathing, concentrated so hard that Sam lifted her head from the pillow and stared.
"Jan?"
"Save the right words for Dr. Mackensie, Sam. How do you feel?"
Sam's turn to concentrate on breathing. Enough time passed that Janet was wondering if she'd even answer, wondering what she'd do if there was no answer. "Embarrassed," Sam said at last, her voice too low to carry much beyond the bed. "Ashamed. Not so much that it happened - I really did get my head around that years ago, played it over and over and over until I desensitized myself to the possibility - but that they saw. That it happened in front of... of... That they're never going to look at me again without thinking of it."
"Do you think they'll think less of you?"
"Yes. No. I don't know. All I know is that when I look at them... I'll remember that they saw."
Her voice low to match Sam's. "The way Daniel remembered after he was addicted to the sarcophagus and nearly got you all killed.. And the way Teal'c remembered after Apophis brainwashed him again and he attacked his dearest friends. And the way Colonel O'Neill remembered after he convinced you all that he'd betrayed your trust. I'm not saying it's going to be easy, Sam, but eventually, you'll look at them and you'll see Daniel and Teal'c and the colonel and not a reflection of what they saw."
"And when they look at me, Janet, what will they see?"
"Someone they love who was hurt."
"They'll see a woman!" The last word spat out, like admitting a weakness.
"Honey, they're not blind. They've always known you were a woman and they've always been able to see that's not all that you are. That won't have changed. Granted, they're going to be obnoxiously over-protective for a while and sooner or later you'll have to smack them down but they certainly won't blame you or your biology for what happened."
The soft shush, shush of Sam's other hand rubbing against the blanket was the only sound for a long moment. Then: "They're not the only people in this mountain."
"No, they aren't." Matter of fact now, because that was what was needed. "And frankly, I'm kind of hoping that some asshole will shoot off his mouth because the sooner your three can beat the Neanderthal out of someone, the sooner they'll stop badgering the general to nuke P7D 448 to radioactive rubble."
"They haven't..."
"Given that the general's more than half inclined to go along with the idea, he finally had to station a couple of SF's outside his door to discourage their visits."
"Do we even have a nuke?"
"The colonel seems to know where he can get one."
Smiling pulled at the damage to her lip. Sam winced and snorted. "I knew they were going to make a big deal out of this. They're waiting in the hall, aren't they?"
"Yes. But I can keep them out there indefinitely; so if you're not ready..."
"I'm not but we... SG-1... we always gather round the bed of the fallen. Best we get back to what passes for normal around here."
"You're sure?"
"Don't give me time to change my mind, Janet."
"Right." She tightened her grip for a moment, stood, bent, and kissed Sam on the forehead before she released her hand.
"It's a dangerous job, Janet. But someone's got to do it."
"Opening the infirmary door?"
Another smile. Another wince. "Yeah. That too."
"I'll go get them."
No pausing between Sam's bed and the hall. If she stopped now...
They rushed toward her as she came out of the infirmary; Teal'c and Daniel flanking Colonel O'Neill, shoulders all but touching. She stopped Teal'c and Daniel with a light touch and the colonel with her best 'don't fuck with me' gaze.
They looked like hell. Daniel had one arm in a sling, Colonel O'Neill was limping, and even Teal'c's symbiote hadn't been able to replace the fingernails the Jaffa had ripped off trying to dig his way out of the cage.
She wanted to tell them that it wasn't about them. Except that it was. It hadn't been their bodies and it hadn't been the same blow to the soul but their souls were not undamaged. She wanted to tell them that they hadn't failed Sam but only Sam could tell them that. She wanted to scream at them, to demand to know why the hell they hadn't stopped the three men from dragging her friend, her best friend, the sister of her heart, out into the centre of the circle of cages...
She needed to blame someone.
Two pairs of shadowed brown eyes and one pair of wounded blue ached to be blamed.
Not their fault.
Eventually, she'd even believe it.
"You've got a half an hour, no more, and then I want the three of you out of my infirmary and getting some rest. Understand."
Two heads nodded. The colonel's eyes narrowed. "Doc..."
She shook her head and stepped out of their way.
Followed them inside. Watched them disappear behind the curtain. Heard Teal'c's, "MajorCarter." Daniel's soft, "Hey Sam." And the colonel's, "Oh for crying out loud, there's only one chair." Knew they all meant the same thing.
Then she went to her office, carefully closed the door, picked up her black magic marker, sat down in her chair, and ignored the tears.
Tears for Sam.
Tears for the three men who loved her and blamed themselves.
Tears for the word inevitable...
--end--