It’s been an ordinary mission. Textbook, really. If there were textbooks about the stuff we do. Typically, Daniel chatters away with the chief while Carter picks at tasty treats on her plate, praying that none of them are crawling. Teal’c’s doing his thing keeping a wary eye on the kids. And I’m entertaining myself and the chief’s kid with a little slight of hand. Now you see the snail on Carter’s plate; now it’s crawling out of Teal’c’s ear. Oh yeah, Carter, you so owe me for that one. God, I love to hear a kid’s laughter. It’s the same on any planet. Pure and honest.

Dinner’s over and everyone gets up to watch tonight’s entertainment. That’s when I see it and suddenly that damn snail and all his kin have taken up lodging in my gut. Ugly, rough-hewn braces, harsh against the pale skin of withered legs. Dammit!

He looks at me and I try to feign nonchalance, like it freakin’ doesn’t matter. The kid gifts me with an understanding smile. I know I’m busted. He grabs his crutches and hobbles towards me. God bless this kid’s unquenchable mettle. He doesn’t want my pity. He doesn’t need it. He wants my friendship. He wants to be treated like every other kid. I can do that. "Grab another snail," I whisper. "We’ll let it crawl down Daniel’s pants." He grins in conspiratorial delight and suddenly my world is a little brighter. It’s the color of a child’s courage.

<fin>