* * *
She was dying. She knew that with a certainty that put all thoughts of panicking out of her mind. What would be the point?
The pain wasn't so bad, actually. She'd lost a lot of blood, and felt like she was gently floating, like a stick that had fallen in a quiet pond. She was cold, though. Getting colder.
Her hand touched something that moved. Curious to the end, she made the difficult effort to turn her head a fraction and see what it was.
The Colonel came into her field of vision. He was sprawled on the cold stone floor of this building on planet PX-whatever, like her. She remembered that he'd been shot as well, and knew that he was dying along with her. His eyes were open, and she realized with a start that her hand was now clasped in his.
"Sir," she whispered, afraid to ask the question to which she already knew the answer, simply by seeing the look in his dark eyes.
"Carter." He smiled, with a sadness to it which almost broke her heart. "I couldn't...I'm sorry."
She let out a breath. She wondered how many she had left. "Not your fault, sir. No one's fault."
"Right." He didn't believe her, but they weren't going to argue. Not here, not now, not ever again.
With effort, she spoke again. "I'm glad..."
"What?" he asked, the words almost more of a breath.
"Glad...you're here. With me."
The world was going dark, and so cold that she could hardly feel anything. Black had never looked so endless. She heard him draw another laboured breath, and miraculously, managed to still feel his hand in hers. The last time.
"Always."