Here we go again!

Enjoy!

M.

PS: If anyone is following Family Ties, it's not forgotten just delayed for a bit :P my beta said I went chasing unicorns with the last chapter xD

Chapter 1- What's wrong with me?

It's been already three weeks and a few days since her last mission, yet Samantha Carter feels overwhelmingly tired. It doesn't make sense, Sam believes, to be this tired. Not when all she had done was sleep for eight hours straight once she had gotten home.

Now, four hours later, she sits at her workbench in her lab, her second cup of tea, long gone. She can't help but lean on her hands, sighing. She always hated feeling tired. This seemed as if there was nothing she could do about it. Since noticing her own tiredness, Samantha Carter had been taking extra good care of herself before Colonel O'Neill would make it an order. Hence, for the past two weeks, she had gone up to the commissary for lunch and dinner. She changed coffee for tea and signed out around 2000 under the surprised eyes of the airmen. When arriving home, it was a battle with herself to get showered and drag herself to bed for a full eight hours of sleep.

Sam rubs her face tiredly before she uses the last of her resolve to continue working. As she grabs the tweezers and tries to concentrate on the doohickey in her worktable, her energy seems to have evaporated. Sam feels as if she has not taken a single nap since their return from A9P-63M three weeks earlier when in truth, all of her free time has been spent with her eyes closed. And, to make her feel worse, she doesn't have any energy left to straighten herself when she hears the steps of her CO approaching her lab.

"Christ, Carter! Do I need to order you to get some shuteye?" Jack asks as soon as he enters her lab and notices the dark circles under her eyes and the slumped way she is sitting. Sam lowers the tweezers to the table. She shakes her head as if it will erase the fatigue that haunts her day and night.

"Sir?" she frowns.

"Carter, you need to take better care of yourself," he says in that tone that makes her feel like she is precious to him. "You can't keep pulling out that many hours while risking your health. One day you won't make it back to us because you fell asleep behind the wheel," Jack gulps trying to stop himself from going on down that train of thought, he fears the idea of Carter's car or bike crashing against something out on the road. He shakes his head to try to get rid of the images of a torn and bloody Carter.

"Really, Carter," Jack whispers. "We all worry about you when you get to this kind of sleep deprivation," he can't avoid it. His hands find her face, and the pad of his thumbs caress the dark shadows under her eyes. Noticing what he is doing, Jack lowers his head to find some doohickey he could play with if only to keep his hands to himself; when finding none, he pushes his hands deep inside his pockets and switches his weight from heel to toes and back again.

"Sir," she sighs, "I've been sleeping eight hours a night for the past two weeks."

Jack's head snaps down to look at her, surprised by her words and frowns. If she's been sleeping, why was she so pale and seemed about to fall asleep on her feet?

Sam takes his silence as a sign he doesn't believe her, and can't help the flash of pain from grazing her features. "You can take my word for it or check it with the entry guards, sir," she spits his title, and he looks at her, surprised by it.

"What?" Jack notices the hint of pain in her eyes a second before she blocks it from his view. It dawns on him, what she could have thought. "I believe you, Carter. I was just wondering, what could be wrong with you? For you to look like crap when you've been sleeping that much."

"Oh! Sorry for snapping, sir." Jack smiles as she lowers her head, ashamed for her reaction, a faint blush covering her cheeks.

"Blame it on the tiredness, Carter. Maybe all the extra sleep it's not suiting you?" He offers, he knows if something were wrong, she would find a way to tell him. "Wanna grab some coffee?" Jack asks, and she beams at him. His heart skips a beat. She stands up too quickly, her fast action leaving her feeling a bit lightheaded, and leaning on her table for support before she even realizes it.

"Ow," she lets out, taking a deep breath. "I stood up too quickly."

Jack frowns, fear settles in the pitch of his stomach, he knows something is going on with her. His gut tells him to drag her to the infirmary and get her checked, but she grins up at him. "I'm good. Let's find that coffee, sir," she tells him. Even if her mind is telling her, she will not drink coffee because she believes it wouldn't help with her constant tiredness.

Jack eyes her for a second too long, "you are sure you are all right?" he asks, and she nods before they stroll to the elevators, finding Daniel on their way.

"Sam! You look like…"

"Crap, I know," she rolls her eyes.

"Like you need some sleep or coffee, I was going to say," Daniel grins sheepishly. "But crap will do too." Jack snorts."Hey Jack. So, you guys are headed to the commissary?"

"Yup, we are going to pump some coffee in that body of hers." They call the elevator and stand, waiting for the doors to open.

"I've finished the translation of the artifact we brought from A9P-63M," Daniel beams, proud of his achievement. There's a soft bing! And Jack and Sam enter the cart, Daniel follows.

"Really?" Jack arches his eyebrows, getting himself ready for the chatter that will come.

"Does it says anything interesting?" Sam asks sluggishly. Daniel and Jack exchange a glance at her lack of interest.

"No," Daniel chuckles while he nods to Jack in askance. "It's only the history of Freyja."

The archeologist waits for some kind of answer from Sam as she always would, but none comes. By then, the frown in Daniel and Jack's faces has grown deeper, and it appears it won't leave them anytime soon. "Our mythology places Freyja as the sister of Freyr, who is a goddess associated with war, death, love, sex, beauty, fertility, gold, and seior… that would be magic," Daniel provides as they ride their way to the commissary.

"Daniel," Jack looks at him pointedly. He hasn't heard or noticed the elevator's door opening behind his back.

"Jack."

"Daniel."

"Jack?"

"Are we getting that coffee?" Sam stops them from their one-word battle.

"Oh, right!" Daniel grins sheepishly, noticing he was blocking the exit. He walks backward as if he was merely continuing his explanation while, in reality, he is utterly worried about her. "It seems that A9P-63M was old Freyja stomping grounds."

"I thought you said it wasn't interesting," Jack jabs as they get into the line. The men exchange yet another glance at the lack of snort coming from Carter.

"Well, it's not interesting in the type of interest you'd like," he shrugs. They reach the coffee machine, and as Jack pours the first cup, Sam pales as she remembers the other reason she hadn't had coffee after their return.

"Oh, God!" she manages to get out. 'What's wrong with me?' she thinks as she covers her mouth and rushes to the bathroom.

Her friends follow her surprising retreat with high-raised eyebrows. She runs as if Goa'ulds were chasing her. So they exchange yet another worried glance.

"I guess no coffee," Jack says as he shoves the half-filled mug to Daniel.

Jack picks up a lime soda and some saltine crackers for Sam along with an orange juice for himself before he goes to wait for his Carter in front of the bathroom doors.

Coffee in hand, Daniel follows. Jack glares at him and his coffee before Daniel gulps it down in one swig. He searches his pockets, finding a stick of mint gum with an excited "aha!" and offers it to Jack.

"No, thanks. Those will rot your teeth," Jack says to annoy his friend.

"But it will also get rid of the coffee breath," Daniel points with a grin as the door of the bathroom finally opens.

"Sorry, sir, Doctor Jackson," Airman Chase says, coming from the room and finding them blocking the way out. Noticing their worried glances, she assumes it's Major Carter, the one emptying the contents of her stomach inside. "She is still at it," she says.

"Thanks, Airman," Jack nods.

"Is it empty?" Daniel asks at the same time, Chase nods, and they rush inside.

Airman Chase looks at them and was going to complain about male personnel in one of the few female bathrooms, but then she remembers who they are and shakes her head. So she remains guarding the door until they come out.

Inside, they find Sam heaving in one stall, kneeling in front of the toilet. Jack looks around the bathroom and spots a paper towel dispenser. Pushing his previous purchase into Daniel's hand, he hurries to it, grabbing a handful of paper towels. He places them under the freshwater before he stalks back to Sam. Jack rubs her neck with the wet and sticky papers, leaving a trail of white as he does, but he can't care about it. She is sick, and he happens to know that cooling her neck should help a bit.

"I'm sorry," Sam says as she finally stops gagging. "Thanks, guys," she adds, her eyes fill with tears for the concern she sees in their eyes, especially in the Colonel's eyes.

Unable to hold her gaze for longer without giving away feelings he shouldn't be feeling after all this time, Jack grabs the cold lime beverage from Daniel's hands and pushes right under her nose.

"Drink," he orders, and she smiles gratefully at him, looking up so he can see her smile clearly. - It is the one she saves for him, Jack notices. - They seem to remember the third party standing next to Jack soon enough. It's then when Sam takes a swig. She grimaces at the bitter taste of her stomach contents mixed up with the sweet drink.

"I think I'm coming down with the flu," Sam says, mostly to see if that erases some of the worries she sees in their eyes. It doesn't.

So, she tries to stand up to show them she is all right but fails miserably. The world tilts, and she closes her eyes to try to grasp the fact that the ground isn't moving. Even if she knows that Earth is rotating around its axis as it wanders around the sun in an elliptical movement, along with a lot of astrophysical explanations that her mind provides her to tell her she is wrong.

Sam takes a deep breath and opens her eyes after what feels like hours. Jack offers her his hand, and as she takes it, he pulls her up. Unable to do much to stop it, Sam sways in place and closes her eyes again. Everything around her is moving, except the warm body of Jack O'Neill that is cocooning her as if he was a rock, her rock.

The umpteenth worried look is exchanged between Jack and Daniel.

"I think I need to get myself to the infirmary," she whispers.

She has let out the scariest request any member of SG-1 could possibly utter, the only phrase that can actually tell them for sure how bad things are. Then Sam collapses in Jack's arms.

Weeks earlier

Orilla

"Freyja."

"Loki."

"Freyja, you must help me."

"Loki. No one can help you, the council has spoken, and you will be kept here until the last of your days. You are in luck that they decided not to upload your consciousness for good."

"Yes, I understand it," Loki said. "However, that's not it." Freyja blinked, confusion showing in her eyes.

"Freyja, I need you to carry one of my experiments to the end." Loki pleaded.

"The experiments you can't access are related to the Tau'ri. You are forbidden to get near them, Loki. You are not a Vanir."

"I know that! What if I found it? What if I can save us?" Freyja blinked again.

"Explain…"