General Hammond looked at the somber members of SG-1 gathered around the briefing room table. His eyes avoided the empty seat where Daniel Jackson usually sat with his ever present cup of coffee. With a heavy sigh, he concluded, "...and I know you want to get back to Dr. Jackson so I won't keep you." He dismissed them. As Sam and Teal'c filed out, he called out to O'Neill. "Colonel? Could I speak with you?"

Jack turned back, his face gaunt and approached his commanding officer.

Hammond shuffled several files on the table top. "Colonel, it appears the survey was more than sufficient for what SG-10 needed."

Jack frowned in puzzlement, then remembered the reason for being on P3X-111. "That's good to know sir." It would be small consolation if Daniel died. To think the man's life would have only been worth another needless survey. O'Neill drew his thoughts back. Daniel wasn't going to die! "If that's all sir, I'd like..."

"There's more Colonel." He looked up into the soldier's haggard face, seeing and understanding the guilt he saw in the dark haunted eyes. "I read your report." Jack nodded without speaking. "It was rather vague in regards to how Dr. Jackson was injured." He hesitated, before asking gently. "Is there anything you'd like to add...off the record?"

Jack drew in a deep breath as he clutched the back of Daniel's empty chair. "It was my fault sir," he admitted quietly. "I was upset at Daniel and I came through the gate without waiting for him." His handsome face twisted with guilt. "It was a stupid, stupid thing to do!" He pounded the chair back with his clenched fist. "He's a civilian, for cryin' out loud! It's my job to protect him! If I'd made sure he was safely through..." He broke off, shaking his head.

Hammond gained his feet and looked at the officer with somber eyes. "I know what you're feeling son, but regret doesn't change a thing." Jack stared at him with bleak eyes as the general slowly continued. "It was the sixties and I was flying a mission in 'Nam. My squad got caught up in a fire fight. It was my job to protect my wing man but in the heat of battle I made a stupid decision and broke off to chase a MIG. It was strafing our ground troops and I saved their lives, but I lost him. I lost my wing man." O'Neill frowned at the confession as Hammond softly went on. "My wing man was my wife's brother, Jack." He laid his hand on O'Neill shoulder and gave him a haunted smile. "You see, son, I know all about regret and how it can eat you up alive." He nodded toward the door. "Go on. Go be with Daniel."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir." With a small nod he left the general to his own painful memories.

The room was dark, the only light coming from the monitors and small night light over the bed. Its faint glow illuminated the still face of the man on the bed.

Jack sat in a chair next to the bed, studying that face. An unused blanket and pillow rested on the chair arm where he sat hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees, absently turning an object over and over in his hands.

Janet had been in and out in the eternity he had been sitting there, checking and rechecking on the scientist. Her latest visit, she had actually smiled as she softly told him Daniel's fever was coming down. Not a lot, but a little and every little bit helped.

Carter and Teal'c had sat with him, until knowing they had to be exhausted, he had ordered them to leave and get some rest. They had obeyed, albeit reluctantly.

Now, he sat alone in the semi-darkness, staring at Daniel. He glanced down, frowning at the object in his hands and a small smile came to his lips as he softly spoke. "So what number is this now? Ten? Fourteen? Twenty? I think they've started keeping a log. I mean, ya gotta admit, you lose them in some pretty strange places." Jack stared at the wire rimmed glasses. "They don't even have to look up your prescription anymore. They know it by heart." His voice quavered as he carefully placed the spectacles on the bedside table. "You'll be needin these." His breath hitched and Jack gulped deeply.

"Ya gotta need 'em Danny." A pleading tone crept into his voice. "How ya gonna read the DHD or some ancient ol' artifact when we find it? Ya gotta need 'em Danny." Blindly he reached out, clutching the pillow to his chest. "I need ya..." his voice broke with the admission. "Ya can't leave Danny! You can't go, not like this..." Jack's hold tightened on the pillow. "I can't lose ya. I've lost too many.." Faces flashed in his mind's eye: Charlie, John Michaels, Sara, Kawalsky...He hugged the pillow to his chest but it didn't stop the pain. "I've failed at so many things. At being a father and a husband. Don't let me fail at being a friend..." Tears welled up in his eyes as Jack buried his face in the pillow to muffle his ragged heart wrenching sobs.

Janet Fraiser paused in the doorway. It was time to check on Daniel, but she hesitated at the sound of the anguished words and muffled sobs coming from the room. His own eyes filled with tears as she stepped back and quietly turned from the door, leaving the colonel alone with Daniel and his guilt.