Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

Bill sank down on the wooden bench, noticing but not giving a damn about the curious looks he and his companions were drawing. He was tired, too tired to care about much of anything if he was honest.

"You two ok?" Colonel O'Neill asked tersely.

"Jack?" Daniel was unfazed by his friend's mood. A trait Bill wished he shared.

"I gotta go arrange for transport. You two ok waiting here or do you want to come with?"

Daniel turned to him, seeking his input, Bill realized after a few awkward seconds. "Well, we should be safe here, right?" he asked, at a loss. "It's not like the rebels run the town or anything?"

Burke snorted and Daniel looked at O'Neill. "I'll watch over them," Burke said, plopping down on one of the benches. "Wouldn't want to have to go after them again, now would we?"

O'Neill merely rolled his eyes and sighed, not impressed with Burke's words. "Anybody leaves this spot, I WILL shoot you," he threatened before stalking off towards the one permanent building in the tent city. And the only one that Bill knew had electricity and a radio.

"Mister Burke, I see you found your friends," a young man said, hurrying across the grassy clearing to speak to them.

"That we did, Pedro," Burke answered, laying his rifle on the table. "What ya got cooking in that snake pit you call a kitchen?"

The man made a face. "We do not eat snakes," he protested. "We use only the finest beef and-"

"You have anything that's pre-packaged," Daniel interrupted him.

"What?"

"My friend here, he has a…sensitive stomach. Do you have anything that you don't cook? That's already ready to eat?" he clarified, pointing at Bill.

Pedro nodded knowingly. "Aah, yes. We do have something we keep just for such a circumstance."

"Times three," Burke ordered. "And a beer."

"Water," Daniel ordered. "Two bottles each."

"As you wish," Pedro said, turning on his heel and beating a path back into the shanty that served as the kitchen.

"How are we going to get out of the country?" Daniel asked Burke, shifting so that he could prop his injured leg up on the bench.

"Yeah," Bill agreed. "They took our passports and…"

"I don't expect that'll be a problem," Burke said. "If Jack doesn't have it arranged, I've got a few strings I can pull. Anyway, it'd be pretty damn stupid to send Jack all the way down here to bail out your asses if he has to turn around and leave you here." He got up, shoving his rifle towards Daniel. "You know how to use this?"

"Yeah," Daniel replied slowly, staring at the weapon.

"Chill out, Doc," he laughed. "I just gotta go…freshen up. Anyone but Pedro or Jack comes over here…use it," he said, his voice taking on a serious cast. "Be back in five."

Daniel nodded solemnly, pulling the weapon closer to him while Bill nervously looked over his shoulder. "Do you think they'll try something?" he asked, the feeling of confidence and safety sliding away, quickly replaced by one of insecurity and fear.

Daniel shook his head. "Just being paranoid," he reassured. "If they thought there was any real danger, neither of them would have left us." Bill nodded, the man's words doing little to still the shaking of his hands. His fingers found a leaf that had fallen on the table and he picked it up, folding the bit of green between his fingers. Still his hands shook and he dropped the leaf, pulling his hands into his lap, ashamed at the sign of weakness. "Mine are shaking too," Daniel said softly, holding out his hands to prove his words. "It happens. It'll stop in a little bit. Some food will help."

"You make it sound so easy," Bill muttered.

"Hey, Jack's hands still shake. Why do you think he keeps a hold of that gun?" Despite himself, Bill chuckled, the absurdity of the situation finally setting in. He looked around and started to laugh, knowing that it was odd but unable to stop. "Bill?" Daniel said. He kept laughing, waving his hand at the man. "Hey!" Daniel yelled, leaning forward to slap him. Bill's giggles suddenly stopped, his breathing harsh and gasping. "People are starting to look," he said seriously.

"I'm sorry, I don't-"

"It's ok," Daniel said. "Happens to me all the time."

Bill slumped, suddenly tired beyond belief. "You knew, didn't you?"

"Knew what?"

"You knew someone would come."

Daniel nodded. "Yeah, eventually."

"I wasn't so sure. I mean…we're just two people. You…you they'd care about but me…" Bill trailed off, depression sweeping to replace the elation of just a few seconds ago.

"Nobody gets left behind," Daniel said. "It's not just words." He shrugged. "I didn't quite expect Jack to come and shoot everyone…but someone was going to come for us. The SGC takes care of its own."

The SGC takes care of its own.

"General Hammond, there was no reason for us to stay," Bill said, refusing to back down, despite the portly general standing close to him in a move deliberately meant to impose.

"There was one very GOOD reason," he said. "Major Carter was in command of that mission. Which means that she tells you when you leave the planet, not when you simply decide to."

He narrowed his eyes; his indignation at the man's words a near palpable force. Who the hell did he think he was? Some two bit general who probably couldn't even balance his checkbook. What right did he have to lecture him?

"There was no reason to stay there. Wherever Colonel O'Neill and Mister Maybourne went, it's not on that planet," he insisted.

"So your report says," the general replied.

"General, if you want me to take a team back, I will. But I can tell you now that it will be a waste of time and resources. Resources that could be better spent exploring other planets, ones where we might actually get results and something we can use to further the fight against the goa'uld-something that could save this planet, rather than searching for two people."

The general stared at him for a few seconds, then sighed, turning and retaking his seat behind his desk. "Maybe someone, doctor," he said. "But it won't be you. As of now you are removed from any off-world rotation."

"What?" Bill demanded.

"You may be a civilian, doctor," he spat the title. "But you are bound by the same rules as any officer under my command. And anyone that exhibits the level of insubordination you did on that planet will NEVER go through that gate," he said, his blue eyes steely gray. "Now get the hell out of my office before I decide that your skills would be better served elsewhere."

Recognizing the resolute tone of the man's voice, Bill quietly got to his feet and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He walked down the halls, his anger growing with every step.

It wasn't fair. Why was he being punished? He hadn't done anything wrong. In fact, he was just doing his job as a project manager, weighing the risks and costs, deciding when to cut his losses and save his funding for things that could work rather than waste them on useless endeavors.

That was obviously something Major Carter didn't understand. But what did he expect? She'd spent the past decade or more living off the government dole, no doubt sweet talking her way into more and more funding. Calling in favors to keep her pet projects alive. Totally ignoring the fact that they were a waste of time and money.

Which is exactly what she was doing down on that planet. She may be willing to spend weeks of her life pottering around uselessly, looking for a chance to suck up to the boss, but he wasn't.

Reaching his office, he sat down, turning on his computer. As he sat there, the general's words washed over him, his indignation and humiliation growing with each remembered syllable. She told him. She had to have told him. So that's how she operated. Calling in favors and pulling rank.

Well, two could play at that game, he thought, opening up his report on the planet. Riding his anger, he began to type, not caring if his report was laced with more innuendo than fact.

"Hey." Daniel's hand on his arm pulled him out of his memories. "You ok?"

Bill shook his head, clearing his memories. "Yeah," he replied, forcing a small smile on his face.

"You sorta zoned out a bit," he said slowly.

"I'm fine," Bill said, sighing. "Tired." He turned his head, watching as O'Neill stepped out of the building, walking towards them.

He'd been right a year ago. The answer hadn't been on the planet after all. Neither had the two men. But he'd been wrong in one very big way. Colonel O'Neill and Harry Maybourne hadn't been dead, just missing. He would have given up on them. He did give up on them. And if Hammond and Carter had listened to him, he'd be dead right now. And O'Neill would still be marooned on that moon. By working to save two people, how many lives had Major Carter saved by extension?

"Chopper's gonna be here in an hour," the man said, sitting beside Daniel. "Where the hell's Burke?"

"Pit stop," Daniel said, nodding towards the man who was returning from his trip to the bushes, joined by Pedro, his arms burdened with a loaded tray.

"You are very lucky," the young guide said, setting the tray down. "I almost could not find these."

"Oh for crying…Daniel whose idea is this?" O'Neill asked, picking up the contents of the tray, a disgusted look on his face.

"I just asked him for something safe to eat," Daniel said, gingerly holding an MRE in his hand.

"These suckers were surplused at least two presidents ago," Burke said, reading the plastic packet.

"I'll wait," Colonel O'Neill said, tossing his MRE onto the table and reaching for the bottle of water while Daniel dug into his, expertly tearing open the wrapper.

His stomach growling, Bill did the same, not even caring that the food was unheated and of a consistency that he'd normally find disgusting.

We don't leave anyone behind, Daniel had said, his confidence absolute. He hadn't understood that before. Had no idea what it felt like to be lost, alone, in danger. Hadn't understood the importance of hope, of belief and trust. Of the confidence that comes from knowing that someone had your back.

And the despair that one feels when they've broken that trust, no matter how inadvertently. The desperation to fix it, to set things straight, to bring your friends home, no matter the cost.

He knew what it felt like now. Knew the guilt that comes from having someone willing to die for you, willing to sacrifice their life so that you might stand a chance to survive.

Lost in his thoughts, he continued to eat, letting the other three men carry the conversation, feeling for the first time included in their group, a friend, not just an outsider looking in.

<><><><><>

Sam sat on the infirmary bed, bending her head so that Janet could untie the knot on the makeshift sling. "It's just sore. Dad healed it," she said, supporting her right arm with her left hand as the material came free.

"I'm sure he did," the doctor said, stepping back and laying the sling on the bed. She pushed Sam's jacket aside, gently exploring her shoulder. Despite herself, Sam stiffened a bit when her fingers found a particularly sore spot. Janet quirked her eyebrows at her friend.

"I said it was sore," Sam said defensively.

"I still want an x-ray," Janet said. "Just to make sure that Selmac remembers how to heal humans that don't have symbiotes to finish the work."

"Ok," Sam said, giving in gracefully, mainly because she knew refusing the woman was a battle she couldn't win.

"I'll be right back." Janet walked away and Sam scooted back on the bed, laying down. She hadn't been lying when she said she was sore. And she hurt in more places than she planned to tell Janet. They were just bruises, that much she knew, just as she knew the doctor could do nothing for them and that there was no real cure beyond time and maybe a nice hot bath.

She closed her eyes, ready to catch a doze before she was send down to x-ray. She heard footsteps coming towards her and she sat back up with a groan, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "That was fast."

"Excuse me?"

Hearing a masculine voice instead of the one she was expecting, Sam raised her head, surprised to see Doctor Lee standing there. "Doctor," she said cautiously, looking the man over. She knew he'd been with Daniel in South America but she'd heard that they both were ok if a little banged up around the edges.

"They aah, they said you were back," he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his lab coat.

"They were right," she said dryly, not in the mood to give him any sort of opening, still remembering the last time they'd talked back on the planet where the colonel had vanished.

"Yeah," he muttered, picking up on her mood. "Anyway, I aah, I just wanted to say that…well that I understand and I'm sorry," he said quickly before turning on his heel and nearly running from the room.

"What was that all about?" Janet asked, stepping out of her office.

"I have no idea," Sam replied, staring at the empty door, the sudden change in the man's attitude catching her off-guard. "I haven't seen that quick of an attitude adjustment since….He doesn't have a goa'uld does he?" Sam asked, half serious.

Janet shook her head. "No. Besides, goa'ulds tend to make people ruder, not apologize."

"True," Sam agreed.

"Come on," Janet said. "You can figure it out later. Right now you have an x-ray to catch."

Sam slid off the bed and followed her friend out into the hall. She needed to have a little talk with Daniel, find out exactly what happened while they were in the jungle. If Doctor Lee's sudden change of heart was any indication, it must be one hell of a story.

~Fin~

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