A/N: Here is the final chapter for Children of the Stars. The next story, Among the Stars, will pick up with the rest of the series. I hope you enjoyed the set up of this familiar but different 'verse. Thanks for reading, and for all the lovely review. This chapter is dedicated to all of you!

Jack sat at Sam's bedside, his fingers interlaced with hers. Occasionally, her fingers tightened, or twitched. It was her only movement save for the faint rise and fall of her chest. Otherwise, she was dead to the world, and it unnerved Jack more than he would ever admit. The doctor assured him she was fine, just exhausted. On a practical level, he believed that. Sam had nodded off as soon as she was directed to an examination room. But it was hard to accept that she was uninjured when a hole the size of a softball had been burned out of the gown she'd been wearing. The hole had been just below her sternum, but there'd been nothing but healthy, unblemished skin beneath.

It was the recognizable proof of a mortal injury. That she was absolutely fine could mean only one thing: someone had put her in a sarcophagus. But why? To use her against her own people, as Ra had done to Daniel? And why kill her in the first place? Jack swallowed painfully, a lump hardening in his throat. She had died! She'd died and he hadn't been there for her.

The sound of the sheets rustling stirred him from his darkening thoughts. Jack looked up to see her moving, finally, her legs stretching as she rose to consciousness. Her fingers tightened their grip one last time, and held as her eyes blinked open. They focused on him, and slowly the sleep cleared. She smiled. "Hey," she whispered hoarsely.

He grinned lightly, shifting to the edge of his seat. "Hey," he said back. "How're you feeling?"

She didn't answer for a long while. Instead her eyes searched his, until they brimmed with tears and her hand slowly tightened in a death grip on his fingers. Alarm flooded his senses. "Hey, hey…" he said softly. "It's okay. You're home. You're safe."

Her hand tugged him closer, as he hopped from his chair to the edge of her bed, she levered herself up to meet him. Her arms surrounded him, hugging him tightly. Jack placed a hand on the back of her neck, gently stroking her hair as hot tears splashed against the edge of his collar. She trembled, but she was warm and solid—present. She was really okay.

"I didn't know if I would ever see you again," she whispered.

Jack pulled back, but refused to release her. He leaned back just enough to look into her eyes, his forehead pressing to hers. "I wouldn't have stopped looking for you," he vowed.

She shook her head, sniffling. "But it wouldn't have mattered. You could have searched for decades and still never… And if you hadn't come—"

Jack tightened his hold, silencing the rapid thoughts of pessimist possibility. He knew where she was coming from; he'd been doing the same thing since the minute she fell asleep. Somehow, they'd both managed to stay calm in the field, but now that the adrenaline-fueled focus had eased, horrific what-ifs flooded the void.

"I'm here," he told her. "You're here. That's all that matters." He brushed her tears away with his thumb, then cupped her cheek before she could look away. Looking up at him through tear-dampened lashes, he saw her accept his words as truth, and some of her fear faded. She nodded. "Everything is going to be okay. I promise."

From the doorway, Charlie blinked his headache away. He couldn't hear what his two friends were saying over the pounding in his ears, but he was acutely aware of the arrival of another party. He straightened from his lean against the door jamb, ready to discourage the newcomer, but relaxed marginally when it turned out not to be a hapless Airman, but rather Daniel Jackson.

"Any change?" the archaeologist asked in a gravelly voice. His eyes and nose were red from a recent crying jag, but Charlie didn't say anything. He liked to tease the archaeologist, but there was nothing funny about what had happened on the alien planet.

"She just woke up," Charlie responded. "She'll be okay."

Daniel poked his head around the edge of the door, and froze abruptly when he saw Jack and Sam. His eyes widened behind his glasses, his gaze glued to the intimate embrace between Charlie's two friends. At first, his cheeks flushed, then paled a second later. Jesus. Charlie remembered the kiss the archaeologist had shared with his wife back in the Abydos temple, and recalled how he'd likened the two of them to Jack and Sam. Sha'uri had only had eyes for Jackson, and the passion between the unlikely lovers had rolled off of them in waves.

And just like Jack had looked away from the open display of affection then, reminded of his own lost love, Daniel tore his gaze away from the tender tableau and retreated to the safety of the corridor. "I, uh…" His voice caught violently, which Daniel covered with a rough cough. Ripping his glasses from his nose, he set about cleaning them with a corner of his shirt, avoiding Charlie's gaze. "The General said, ah… he wanted to know as soon as Doctor Carter woke up. He, uhm… wants that debrief, so... Could you—?"

Charlie nodded his understanding, relieving the archaeologist of his mission. "I'll let 'em know. Thanks."

Daniel murmured his own thanks, then bolted. Charlie watched until the kid turned the corner out of sight before returning his gaze to the pair on the hospital bed. Charlie understood where Daniel was coming from. Eventually, he too would feel sick to his stomach about Skaara and Sha'uri. But right now, he felt nothing but relief. Sam was safe, and that was all that mattered.

He glanced into the infirmary, and seeing his friends still speaking softly to each other, he decided to see a doctor about some aspirin for his headache. Then, when he got back, he'd tell them about Hammond. They deserved just a few more minutes to themselves. They'd earned it.