imskysmom

I'm Sick

Thu, 19 May 2005 00:36:51 GMT

I'm sick; I feel like crap, but on the upside I did get to watch the extended version of the Return of the King AND I got three new Farscape DVDs from Netflix. Small consolation for feeling like my lungs are in a vise, but I'll take whatever I can get. I'm doing what is probably unbelievably foolish by going and visiting someone I've never met face to face to go to a scifi convention, but I'm trusting my gut on this one. Tammy is a doll; bighearted, generous, loving and kind and I'm going to take the chance that she's not a knife-murderer *snort*. But if you never see another posting, you'll know I gambled my life and lost PFFFBBTT! of course that won't be until this summer, though I have already managed to save enough for my plane ticket and I've asked for the time off from work. I'm continuing to save money for the trip so we'll see what happens. My muse has dried up and blown away.... I'm hoping something will grab me by the throat and inspire me, but things aren't looking promising. I"m pretty sure I"m in a fairly serious depression, and just kind of managing to hold my own, but what am I supposed to do? There's barely coverage for our medical, letalone any mental health issues I might have.

So THAT Was Interesting...

Mon, 07 Mar 2005 04:10:20 GMT

I'm in the middle of switching from a traditional Western med to a PROVEN alternative herbal remedy, and it's not been pretty. I knew it was going to be bumpy, but this has just been WEIRD. Ask poor Tammy who had to deal with me all day on Friday. I normally type around 80 wpm anyway, and I'm pretty wordy so when I IM, I don't generally abbreviate too much. But, holy moses, on Friday, poor Tammy was dealing with just this gigantic BLOCKS of text. And weird, weird bizarre stuff. She told me it was like I was drunk. Now, when I get drunk, it's more likely I go to sleep than get hyper. And since I'm pretty straitlaced, I've never tried marijuana or speed or any of the other high school variety of pharmaceuticals. But I gotta believe that is what speed would feel like. I couldn't talk or type or MOVE fast enough. Felt very disturbing, or it would have if I wouldn't have felt so much like a passenger in my own body while someone who was much wittier and amusing than I am usually hadn't taken control. I've been waiting for a repeat, but Saturday just crashed and felt crappy and depressed all day, and now today things have been more level so maybe, maybe. Crap, I don't know...

Something to make me smile when all hell is breaking loose

Thu, 03 Mar 2005 20:00:08 GMT

I am what is affectionately referred to as a "whumper". I read it; I write it; I watch it. Either you get it, or you don't...

(twisted from Celine Dion's My Heart Will Go On)

The Whump Will Go On

by dragonflysoul11 and imskysmom (aka yours truly)

Every night in my dreams,
I beat you, I bruise you,
That is how I know the whump will go on...

All throughout our fan fiction
And even music videos
We have come to show that whumping goes on.

Bruise, scar, we can’t go too far
I believe that the whump does go on
Once more I take out the paddles
Cause I need to restart your heart
And I know that the whump will go on and on

A good whump can touch us one time
And last for many lifetimes
If you have a sarcophagus for your love

Love was when I whumped I’m
So sure for your lifetime
In my stories we’ll always go on

Jumpstarted, shot, or dumped in hot tar,
I believe that the whump must go on.
Once more, you survive and are sure
But you're here in my heart
And my heart must whump on and on.

You’re near and angsty with fear
And I know that this whump will go on
You’ll bleed forever this way
You’re not safe in my heart and
The whump will go on and on…

Cast A Long Shadow - after Shades of Grey...

Fri, 25 Feb 2005 23:07:25 GMT

The trigger felt cold and slippery with sweat, but at the same time, hard under Jack’s finger. He watched through the sights as Daniel puttered around his kitchen making a cup of tea, then settled himself in the corner of the sofa, stifling a yawn, teacup steaming softly on the side table.

Distantly he could hear someone swearing. Truly impressive usage, he thought idly as he carefully took aim at Daniel’s chest. He had a clear shot at Daniel’s head, but he’d rather play it safe; the midsection was much more forgiving if your aim was slightly off. The cursing seemed to be growing louder.

Lowering the rifle, Jack frowned and glanced around the empty room. Nothing. Turning back to Daniel he had to grin. The archaeologist had fallen asleep while reading, head slumped back against the cushions, mouth open, book flat against his stomach.

Did Daniel *ever* sleep in his bed! Shaking his head, again he lifted the rifle and carefully sighted on the target. As he squeezed the trigger the cursing he’d heard earlier was back, ferocious, loud and furious. He jerked the shot off and saw it hit Daniel high in the shoulder.

At the same moment Jack became aware the cursing was his own voice, a continuous stream of obscenities forced through a throat so tight he sounded like he was snarling instead of speaking. Putting a shaking hand to his face, he found it wet with tears and sweat. He stared through the window across the street at Daniel’s body, limp and blood-soaked. Daniel’s mouth was still open, head still back against the cushions, but the book had fallen to the floor when he convulsed from the shot.

There was a *thump* as the gun slipped to the floor from his nerveless fingers and he startled, then his clumsy fingers were groping through his pants pocket for the cell phone. The 911 operator answered, her tone brisk and impersonal. He had to clear his throat twice before he could actually speak.

“There’s been a shooting…” As he numbly gave Daniel’s address, and then disconnected before giving his name his eyes never left Daniel’s unmoving form. He stayed long enough to watch the ambulance come and bundle a presumably still live Daniel Jackson into it’s depths before awkwardly finding his way out of the empty house he didn’t recognize and out onto the dark suburban street. His truck was parked in front of the house. Jack got in and headed for the mountain.

Hammond stared through the one way glass at the haggard face of his 2IC. Then he glanced at Major Samantha Carter, who stood beside him looking pale and worn.

“Are you telling me that Colonel O’Neill claims he tried to murder Dr. Jackson?”

Major Carter’s hands clenched to white-knuckles on the back of the chair she was gripping. She didn’t turn to look at the General when she answered.

“The colonel claims that he woke up with a gun in his hand staring at Daniel who had just been shot. He called 911 and came directly here.”

“And Dr. Jackson?”

“Dr. Frasier is having him moved to the SGC infirmary first thing this morning. He’s, well, he should be fine.” She finally turned to look at the general for the first time. “General, if Colonel O’Neill did shoot Daniel, I’m sure he was under some kind of outside compulsion to do so.”

“I agree with you, Major,” said Hammond firmly. “But obviously I’m a little concerned about what else might happen! In light of the situation I’m restricting the rest of SG-1 to the base until we have a better handle on what is going on.” Sam nodded.

“I understand, sir. I’ve sent a message to my father. I’m hoping the Tok’ra can shed a little light on the problem.”

“Good idea. In the meantime, have you talked at all to Colonel O’Neill?”

“Just long enough to confirm what he told the MP’s when he turned himself in.”

They both gazed silently at the hunched figure of Colonel Jack O’Neill, hands folded on the table, eyes on his hands.

“The Colonel would *never* hurt Daniel,” Sam said again fiercely, not looking away from the image.

“The problem, Major,” Hammond said gently, “is that he already did.”

This was a nightmare. This is not actually happening. This could not BE happening, Jack kept chanting. But every time he dared look away from his hands tightly folded on the table, he saw the dull grey walls of the holding cell that told him this was worse than a nightmare. It was reality.

He didn’t know if Daniel was dead or alive and savagely enjoyed the pain that ripped through him at the thought of Daniel dead at his hand. He refused to allow himself the grace of grief, instead choosing to flay his raw nerves with the guilt of yet another death he could hold himself directly accountable for. He wouldn’t even allow himself to ask how Daniel was.

Again he forced into his mind the memory of the rifle jerking in his hands. See that, he said viciously to himself. Why didn’t you wake up sooner, Jack! You’re trained special ops, Colonel O’Neill! You’ve been taught how to fight mind control! You weren’t just a passenger! If Daniel is dead, it’s because *you* let it happen.

Daniel swallowed, or least tried to. An ice chip was slipped in between his dry lips and he sucked at it greedily. The antiseptic smell told him before he opened his eyes that once again he was in the infirmary. He wondered what it was for this time and decided to open his eyes anyway. To his surprise though, it wasn’t Jack wielding the Styrofoam cup of ice; it was Sam sitting there. She smiled reassuringly. Before he could ask, she neatly popped another ice chip in his mouth and called to Janet over her shoulder.

The petite MD was there and the dreaded penlight out and blinding him before he could even protest. Daniel knew better than to try to twist away, not that he could have, since he appeared to have exactly enough strength to open his eyes and even that was starting to tax his energy. He satisfied himself with a grunt of discomfort instead.

“I know, I know,” soothed Frasier in response to the complaint. Apparently well-pleased with whatever his eyes managed to do, she leaned back and looked at him, eyes narrowed. He felt like something peeled off the bottom of Teal’c’s shoe. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, crap, it even hurt to blink.

“We had to cut back on the pain meds to let you wake up, Daniel.”

Something in her voice, and in Sam’s face hovering worriedly over Janet’s shoulder made him tense.

“J’ck?”

‘God, was that his voice? Thank goodness they’d heard him though, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to speak again.’

They exchanged a quick look.

“Jack’s fine, Daniel. Don’t worry,” Sam said, trying to reassure him. He looked from one to the other. There was something they weren’t telling him.

“S’rong?” he managed to wheeze out. Moving to stand beside him, Sam slipped another ice chip between his lips. He tried to blink gratefully.

“You don’t remember what happened? You didn’t see anything?” questioned Janet, her eyes intent on him. Wearily he shook his head and instantly regretted it as the room hazed around him from the pain in his chest and shoulder.

“You were shot while you were at home, Daniel,” he heard her voice going on, as though she had moved very far away. Furiously he fought back the pain. He needed to hear this, damnit!

“Sam, Jack and Teal’c are all perfectly safe.” Cautiously he opened his eyes again. The room appeared to be normally lit again and not daring to try to speak, he gestured minutely towards himself. Thankfully Sam caught it.

“No, we’re still establishing who was trying to kill you.” Daniel wasn’t satisfied with that answer, but pain and shock along with the pain meds Janet had just injected into his iv meant he wasn’t going to have any questions answered right now.

Hammond sat at his desk, methodically working his way though the piles of paperwork that seemed to spawn there whenever he stepped away. He couldn’t honestly say he had any idea what any of the dozen or so reports said that he had theoretically just read and approved, but they were moving slowly from his In box to his Out box, and that was going to have to be good enough under the circumstances. To his immense relief, someone knocked at the door.

“Come in,” called Hammond. He was relieved to see dr. Frasier standing in the doorway. She carefully closed the door behind her, a large white folder in her hand.

“I think I might have the beginning of an explanation for what happened.” She slipped the scan out of the folder and held it up to the light. “This is an MRI taken of Colonel O’Neill’s brainstem. Do you see this area?” and she circled a small area with her finger. “It’s not visible on this scan, but I detected some metal there. When I magnified the scan, I discovered a device with hair-like tendrils extending from the object that are buried in Colonel O’Neill’s brain tissue.” Janet looked at Hammond, who was no one’s fool.

“What is it?” asked the General, his unease showing the brusqueness of his tone.

“Major Carter is investigating right now, but when I ran it by some specialists, the consensus is it’s some kind of micro transmitter.”

“How the hell did it get inside Colonel O’Neill?”

Frasier was already anticipating the question.

“It’s actually small enough to be injected with a needle. If it is as sophisticated as the techs I showed it to seem to think, it could very well have been remotely guided into place to have close proximity to the colonel’s brain for command transmissions.”

“So my second in command is under unknown enemy control?” Hammond said in a surprisingly calm voice. The only giveaway was the flush creeping up from his collar. This had been an extremely difficult situation to begin with; aside from the political and military ramifications, the unpalatable fact that SG-1 was literally tearing itself apart before his eyes was personally painful. He cared deeply for all “his people,” but the four disparate individuals who had become his flagship team held a very special place both in his life and his heart.

“There’s both good news and bad news,” Frasier responded.

“I could really use some good news right about now, Doctor.”

“The only member of SG-1 that appears to have this device implanted is O’Neill.”

“I’m still waiting for the good news, Doctor,” the General said crisply.

“Major Carter is fairly certain the device can be inactivated,” Frasier continued, beginning to grow a little flushed herself.

“I take it removal is not an option?” Dr. Frasier compressed her lips and shook her head.
“I’m still studying it to see if we can even access it, but it is located in a highly sensitive area; we don’t have any idea how far those tendrils coming out of it extend into the Colonel’s nervous system.” Hammond heaved a gusty sigh.

“Thank you, Doctor. Keep me apprised of the situation. And how is Dr. Jackson?”

Frasier brightened. “He’s pretty uncomfortable, but the wound was really just a deep flesh wound. The bullet went straight through and didn’t hit any major organs. A day or two of antibiotics in the infirmary just to be sure but I think he’ll be fine.”

“Anything else I should be aware of, Doctor?”

Janet paused a moment, looking down. Then she met the General’s sharp blue eyes.

“O’Neill believes he regained some measure of control at the last minute. Apparently though, there seemed to be no dichotomy between being Daniel’s friend and commander and trying to kill him. He says he first became aware as the rifle was going off in his hands.”

The general mused for a moment on the horror drenched experience that must have been. He shook his head.

“Does Dr. Jackson know who shot him?”

Frasier sighed. “He never saw Colonel O’Neill, if that’s what you mean, and no one has told him.”

“Right. Do you think we need to bring Dr. McKenzie in on this?” He hoped she’d say no and was relieved when she did.

“Not until we have more data on exactly what happened.”

“Thank you, Doctor. That’ll be all.”

“Yes, sir,” and Janet Frasier excused herself and headed back to her patients. Both of them.

When Daniel woke this time his head was much clearer, and it was Teal’c in charge of the ice chips, the white cup absurdly small in his large capable brown hands.

“DanielJackson, you are awake,” he rumbled in his velvet voice, looking pleased.

Daniel blinked at him blearily for a minute.

“What happened?” He was pleased that this time his voice sounded nearly normal. “Shot, right?”

“That is correct,” Teal’c responded without elaborating. “Are you suffering any discomfort?”
A quick survey of his extremities told him he was injured, but not too badly.

“I’m ok. So now we agree what happened to me, have we decided who?”

Now Teal’c looked uncomfortable.

“That is still being determined.”

“Where is Jack?” Daniel scanned the room behind Teal’c. “I remember Janet saying you were all fine.”

“He is speaking with General Hammond.”

Sam walked up as Teal’c finished speaking, to his evident relief.

“Daniel! Good to see you awake again. How’re you feeling?”

“Well, you know, being shot isn’t my idea of fun but I’ll get over it. Jack is alright, isn’t he?”

Again that hesitation that was really starting to raise Daniel’s worry. He glanced from Sam back to Teal’c and then back to Sam.

“Sam? Tell me what is going on?”

The monitor’s around Daniel’s bed were starting to increase the intensity of their varied beeping and humming.

“It was Colonel O’Neill.” Teal’c finally spoke, sparing Sam from having to actually say the words.

“What do you mean, it was Jack?”

“It was Colonel O’Neill who shot you.” This time Sam managed to speak.

Daniel’s wide blue eyes stared at them incredulously, but he could see they were serious, and the denial died unspoken. He licked his lips and Teal’c started to offer another ice chip but he shook his head.

“Why?” he said finally, very softly.

“We don’t know yet,” said Sam, her own blue eyes intent on his, “but we know he was under some kind of mind control when it happened. Janet found a device in the tissue of his brainstem. Daniel, you know the Colonel would never deliberately hurt you. This was someone using the Colonel to get to you.”

Daniel nodded absently, no longer looking at either of them. After a moment he spoke.

“Think I’ll try and get some more sleep,” he said finally.

“We will be nearby if you need us, DanielJackson,” Teal’c said. Sam didn’t speak again, but took his hand and squeezed, willing Daniel to look at her, but he either couldn’t, or wouldn’t.

“Have you discovered a way to deactivate the device, MajorCarter,” Teal’c asked after they had stepped out into the hallway.

“Well,” Sam sighed, leaning back against the wall tiredly, rubbing her eyes. “It seems similar to Urgo, actually. I’m hoping a concentrated magnetic pulse will cause it to go offline.”

“That method was unsuccessful with Urgo,” Teal’c responded, looking faintly concerned. Sam was nodding before he finished speaking.

“Yes, I know, but this device is larger, and I believe, not as sophisticated. Besides, I have a feeling that solving this problem is not quite as simple as deactivating the device. Daniel and the colonel were just starting to get back to normal…” Sam’s voice trailed off. Too many things had strained the team to the breaking point already the last few months. This might be the last straw.

“I will remain here with DanielJackson. Perhaps you should go see Colonel O’Neill.”

Sam glanced up as Teal’c’s voice broke into her unpleasant thoughts. She nodded.

“I need to tell him what we’ve found out.”

Sam watched as Teal’c took up a post near enough to hear Daniel’s breathing, but still slightly apart. The head on the pillows didn’t move; the blue eyes continued staring blindly at the wall.

Sighing, Sam made her way to where Colonel O’Neill was being held. He didn’t appear to have moved at all since the last time she’d stopped in to check on him. She nodded to the MP standing outside the door and then knocked lightly, giving him some time before she came in. When he looked up, she was shocked at his drawn appearance. Something in his face reminded her suddenly, heartbreakingly, of Daniel, laying in his bed on the other side of the base. Like something in them had been broken and could never be repaired. Sam could only hope that wasn’t so. Taking a deep breath, she forced a bright tone into her voice.

“Colonel O’Neill, good news. I think we might have an answer.”

“Does he know yet?”

The voice was flat and emotionless, but the truth was revealed in the way his hands were clenched, white-knuckled on the edge of the table.

“About you?” Sam cursed inwardly. There was no easy way to do this. “Yes, we told him.”

The colonel’s shoulders tightened as if waiting for a blow, though his voice when he answered was still deceptively calm.

“Did he say anything?”

“He wanted to know why,” Sam answered, trying for equal calm. “I told him we were still working on that part.” The colonel took and let out a long breath. She went on quickly. “But I think I might have figured it out. When you were with Maybourne, were you seen by any medical staff?” The indirect question had surprised him and he furrowed his brow in thought.

“Yeah, just before the mission to the last planet. They wanted to do a complete checkout but Maybourne convinced them to settle for a routine physical.” Sam’s eyes had brightened.

“Any injections?”

“Yes,” answered O’Neill, responding to Sam’s excitement despite himself. “There was some virus or something going around on base and they inoculated me against it.”

“That’s when they did it!”

“Did what? Carter! What have you figured out!?!”

Sam was pacing back and forth now, talking rapidly. “When Janet and I did an complete MRI on you we found a tiny device buried in your brainstem; it looks like some kind of micro technology. It was small enough to be have been injected with a syringe. With all the technology that Maybourne and the NID were stealing, it’s entirely possible that they discovered something that allowed remote access to someone’s nervous system once it was implanted in the victim.”
“And how is the fact that I’ve got some metal bug buried in my brain a good thing, Carter?” barked O’Neill. “A bug, I might add, that forced me to attempt to assassinate one of my team!”

“Sir! This means that all we need to do is contact the Asgard to prove your innocence! And I’m sure we’ll be able to disable the device once we know how it works!” O’Neill was shaking his head slowly.

“It might explain what happened, Carter, but it won’t prove my innocence.”

Carter stared at him for a moment, not understanding.

“Sam, I should have been able to stop myself. I could have, otherwise why could I throw it off at the end? I just didn’t try hard enough, and it almost cost Daniel his life.” The last words were said almost in a whisper.

“Sir,” she said helplessly, “Daniel…, Daniel will understand.”

The dark brown eyes met hers and the pain in them was almost unbearable.

“Will he, Sam? After everything that’s happened the last year?” She looked away, unable to hold his eyes.

“In the meantime, a strong magnetic pulse will disable the transmitter, and Frasier doesn’t think it will do you any damage to leave in there,” she said after a moment of quiet.

“So I don’t need to worry about trying to kill you or Teal’c,” Jack interrupted with brutal sarcasm. She went on without looking up.
“I’m going to go report my findings to Hammond but I wanted to tell you as soon as I could. You should be out of here in an hour or so. I’m sure Daniel would welcome a visitor.”

Without looking at him again she knocked gently on the door and the MP let her out. She walked briskly to the next hallway juncture and turned the corner to a small conference room. After making sure the room was empty, she leaned against the door and hugged herself tightly with shaking hands for a few moments before she could go on and report to General Hammond.

‘”You're a bright guy. You had to sense some of this.”’ The words echoed in Daniel’s brain. ‘God, what am I thinking. Jack didn’t do this on purpose. Sam’s told you that. Teal’c’s told you that.’

He didn’t look, but knew Teal’c was still in the chair at the foot of his bed. Daniel just felt so empty, empty and foolish. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that Jack hadn’t really meant to hurt him, ever since that black ops mission Jack went on, things had felt off between them. And now this. He shifted restlessly, hissing through his teeth as the movement jarred his shoulder.

“Colonel O’Neill is very distressed that he has injured you,” came Teal’c’s solemn voice. “He would be here if he could be, DanielJackson.”

“I think he’s done enough!” Daniel retorted, shifting again and gasping at the pain.

“Do you believe Colonel O’Neill intentionally wounded you?” Teal’c sounded puzzled.

“No, I know he didn’t.” Daniel felt very tired and confused. “I just… I don’t know what to think, Teal’c.”

Teal’c started to respond, but Frasier entered at that moment, lifting the chart from the foot of the bed. She glanced down the page, her expression growing serious, eyebrows drawing together. Setting the chart down, she walked up next to Daniel and placed a hand on his forehead, brushing the sweat tipped hair aside gently.

“Daniel, how are you feeling?” she asked, looking at his face closely. There was a roaring in Daniel’s ears and Janet seemed to be swaying slightly.

“I, uh, not so good, actually,” he said after a moment, raising a shaking hand to rub at his eyes. Teal’c had come to stand beside Janet.

“It’s just an infection, Daniel, nothing to worry about. We’ll bump up the antibiotics in your iv and you’ll be just fine.” Frasier motioned to a nurse, the tightness around her mouth a direct contrast to the calming tone she was using speaking to Daniel. “I’m going to increase your pain meds a little to make you more comfortable.” Daniel was already too foggy to protest, not that Frasier would have been willing to accommodate him this time.

Rapidly a second iv bag joined the one already depositing fluids through an iv in his hand and Frasier hovered around him for a few minutes before gesturing for Teal’c to follow her.

“This is more than an infection, is it not,” Teal’c stated. It wasn’t a question. Janet sighed heavily.

“To be honest, I’m not really sure what’s going on. He was coming along fine. I had already started a round of antibiotics to ensure he didn’t develop an infection. The fact that this has come on so suddenly has me worried.”

“I am concerned as well. DanielJackson seems quite troubled over Colonel O’Neill’s involvement in his injury.”

“He’s not the only one, Teal’c,” said Janet grimly.

“Good job, Major!” Hammond said strongly. He strode out of his office out into the gate control room.

“Sergeant Davis, contact the Asgard immediately. Tell them it’s urgent. Let me know as soon as we hear from them.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hammond glanced at Sam. “I assume you’ve already informed the colonel.” Sam flushed and looked down.

“Quite all right, Major. I would have done the same thing. Carry on with what you can do and I’ll notify you as soon as we hear from the Asgard.” The major saluted and headed back down to her lab. For once it didn’t take the Asgard long to respond and confirm the microscopic hitchhiker O’Neill had picked up was in fact part of the technology the NID had stolen from them and Sam found herself back in the conference room, surprised to see Colonel O’Neill there as well as General Hammond.

“I am sorry we did not detect its presence in your body, O’Neill,” Thor said in a holographic projection from his ship. “Major Carter is correct. I have rendered the paern inactive. It will be absorbed by your body within a few of your months.”

“No problem, Thor,” said Jack O’Neill, forcing a hearty tone in his voice. “Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

The little grey alien seemed to be searching O’Neill’s face for signs of sarcasm, but as Sam asked herself, who could tell?

“Once again we extend our thanks to you, O’Neill,” concluded Thor, O’Neill saluting in Thor’s general direction as the image rippled and then disappeared completely. Sam was fairly certain that the gesture the Colonel really wanted to make was quite different.

Hammond turned back to Jack.

“I’m sure you’re eager to see how Dr. Jackson is doing?”

“I’m free to go then, General?” O’Neill asked, his face expressionless.

“I’d like for you to stop off at the infirmary and let Dr. Frasier have one last look at you, but after that, yes, you’re off duty till further notice,” the General answered, sounding faintly concerned.

“Thank you sir.” As he left the room, Hammond gestured for Carter to follow the colonel. As she hurried after him, he completely ignored her existence.

He was moving fast and she almost had to run to keep up. So when he stopped abruptly outside the door to the base infirmary she careened into him, propelling both of them awkwardly into the room. Janet was just stepping away from Daniel’s bedside. When she saw Jack, she smiled wearily.

“Colonel, I’m so glad to see you.”

Jack interrupted brusquely. “The general ordered me to have one last exam before I could leave the base.” Frasier looked questioningly at Carter and the major hastened to explain.

“The device we found was an Asgard medical micro robot. It’s been turned off. Thor says it will be absorbed into Colonel O’Neill’s body. The colonel had absolutely no control over what happened. Thor is going to help us track down the source of the programming. There is a specific frequency…”

Jack cleared his throat. “Can we just do whatever you need to do? I’m tired and I’d like to get home and have a beer.” There was a moment of stunned silence before Janet spoke.

“Of course, Colonel. If you’ll just step over here.”

And without a single glance to the corner of the infirmary where Daniel lay, Jack followed. Teal’c still sat, silently observing. He and Sam exchanged glances, and after some silent communication, Sam took Teal’c’s place by Daniel while Teal’c silently approached the bed where O’Neill sat, having his vitals taken.

“DanielJackson is awake,” he stated unemotionally. Jack’s eyes continued staring straight ahead.

“Glad to hear it,” he responded quietly, but Teal’c could hear the razor edge of pain and warning in his voice.

Teal’c did not pretend to always understand the Tau’ri. But O’Neill was a warrior as well, a comrade-at-arms and they had saved each other’s life more times than he wanted to count.

“He was most disturbed when we revealed you were the one who had shot him.” Jack’s head slewed sideways and his pallor became even more pronounced.

“I’m not exactly turning handsprings about it myself, Teal’c,” he glowered, the muscles of his jaw tensing.

“Then why do you not wish to go and speak to him?” Teal’c continued implacably.

“It’s not that simple,” Jack said, sitting slowly back down onto the hospital bed. Janet began gingerly attempting to take his blood pressure once again, muttering something under her breath. Jack glared at her.

“You have something to add, Doctor?” he asked coldly. Brown eyes snapping, she glared right back at him.

“I said,” and she spoke loudly and clearly, “that it *is* that simple!”

Jack stood abruptly, ripping the blood pressure cuff off. He looked across the room to where Sam sat at Daniel’s bedside, and for the first time since he had shot him, met Daniel’s eyes.

Those piercing blue eyes were fastened on his face like Daniel was drilling for oil. He couldn’t read the expression in them though, and that alone made Jack uneasy. He just stared, not knowing what to say, his guilt scalding his throat like acid.

“Yeah, Jack,” said Daniel in a strangely bright brittle voice. “It’s very simple.” Before Jack could speak, he held up his hand. Jack noticed it was shaking almost as much as Daniel’s voice was. “Actually, allow me. It had something to do with an undercover mission you couldn’t tell us about, right? And yeah, sure, you betcha, you’re awful sorry about it, but it’s over with now, so what’s the big deal?”

The blood had rushed up into Jack’s face as Daniel had spoken, and then washed back out again. Thrusting his hands deeply into his pockets, he swallowed hard, and turned away.

Very carefully and precisely, Jack placed the twelfth empty Guinness bottle on the coffee table, and reaching down into the cooler beside his chair, pulled number thirteen out. The phone was ringing again. He had considered yanking the cord out of the wall, but decided the ringing was another part of the penance he was doing. Penance wasn’t the right word though, because the implied that eventually it would recompense for what he had done. But he could never make this right. This debt he could never repay. But he let it ring anyway. It rang a long time again before it stopped.

“One, two, three,” he counted and then pointed at the cell phone that sat surrounded by beer bottles as it began to ring. After three chimes though, it stopped. Jack glanced up from his study of the beer bottle label, faintly surprised. He smiled a little grimly, and popping the bottle cap off, toasted the phone.

“Cheers, Carter,” he grunted and then took a pull, the dark brown fluid flowing smoothly down, the lines of his throat working.

Maybe he’d get a little peace now, Jack thought with bitter irony, knowing he had forever lost the few meager shreds of peace he’d managed to scrabble together since the team he’d made his family came into his life. Suddenly blind with anger, he cursed, sweeping the detritus of bottles, old newspapers and empty Chinese take-out boxes onto the floor and threw the bottle against the wall with such force it broke, brown liquid seeping slowly down the paint. He stared at it for a moment, breathing hard, then reaching down into the cooler beside his chair, pulled number fourteen out.

Sam watched in disbelief as O’Neill turned away from Daniel and left. But what was even worse, even more aching, was that there was no surprise on Daniel’s face. There wasn’t any expression actually. No surprise, no hurt, no anger. It was as though a mask had settled down over his face. Sam wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him look like that before, and then covering her mouth to hide the pain, she remembered when he had come back from talking to Jack that other time. Without speaking again, or looking at anyone, Daniel slowly turned his face to the wall. His eyes glittered, but not with tears. Through a silence so heavy she thought she would smother, Sam got up and walked out into the hallway, Teal’c and Janet behind her. Jack was already out of sight.

“Teal’c,” Sam said quietly after a moment, “why don’t you go Kel No Reem and relieve me here in a few hours.” Teal’c eyes were intent on her face, and she knew he was evaluating her emotional state. He must have decided she was alright because he inclined his head to her and to Janet in that enormously gracious way he had and excused himself. Sam wasn’t sure she was alright, but someone absolutely had to stay with Daniel, especially after Jack had abandoned him. After discreetly pulling the door closed behind them and checking for any other personnel close enough to overhear, Janet spoke.

“Daniel’s just angry,” Janet said, trying to reassure an obviously shaken Sam. Sam nodded but she also knew why he couldn’t face Daniel. Knew he was convinced Daniel’s injury was his fault, knew he was convinced it could have been Daniel’s life, knew the horror of shooting his best friend was eating away at his soul like battery acid.

“I think the colonel and Daniel are just going to need a little time to adjust to what happened. There could still be effects from the paern device too.” Janet took a deep breath and expelled it in a long heavy sigh, then as Sam’s last words sank in, started to look concerned.

“Did he mention any symptoms to you? Headaches? Problems with his sight?” Sam shook her head.

“Nothing like that, Janet. I just…, I think they just needs a little more time,” she ended lamely.

The expression on Janet’s face changed to relief, and then a kind of pained understanding. She pushed the door open and glanced in at Daniel. He hadn’t moved since they left the room but his eyes were closed.

“I’m going to head down to the commissary and get some coffee. Do you want me to bring you a cup?” Sam smiled gratefully at Janet, and for more than the offer.

“That would be great. I have a feeling this could be a long night.” Slowly she walked back into the infirmary and sat down at Daniel’s side. He wasn’t asleep, but she wasn’t willing yet to intrude on his need for silence, and so just sat, hoping he knew she was there.

Daniel thrashed restlessly and Sam jerked awake. Groaning as protesting muscles complained about the infirmary chairs, she took a look at Daniel and started yelling for Janet. The doctor was at her side, looking as worried as Sam felt. Daniel’s shoulder where the bullet had been removed was so swollen it pressed tightly against the thin cotton of his gown, the red color showing through, and the heat was palpable without even touching the skin.
Sam gently brushed his sweat-plastered hair back from off his forehead. Except for two bright spots of red high on his cheekbones, Daniel’s skin was bleached of all color. Again he moved and cried out wildly, fighting against an enemy only he could see, unseeing eyes wide in pain and terror. Janet felt his forehead and swore quietly to herself.

“Janet, what is happening?” Sam asked urgently.

Janet was busy calling for assistance. She glanced at Sam and shook her head as the room filled suddenly with medical personnel.

“I don’t know, Sam,” she said, frustration clear in her face and her voice. “I don’t know *what* is wrong, but I’m going to find out!”

Jack slumped in his chair, feeling around in the cooler for another beer. All his fingers met was melted water from the ice he’d packed the Guinness in, and even that was warm. He squinted at the clock, trying to focus bleary eyes but all he could see was a floating white blob.

‘Damn,’ he thought wearily, without emotion. ‘That was a waste of good beer.’ The phone rang again. He’d lost count of how many times Carter had tried to call him.

This time he reached for the cord and *did* yank it out of the wall, but the ringing didn’t stop. He looked puzzled at the end of the cord in his hand as the trilling continued. He knew it wasn’t the cell phone because that had been dropped in the toilet around beer number seventeen. The ringing changed to a hammering and it suddenly dawned on Jack someone was at the door. Growling, he stumbled to his feet and staggered to the door.

“Jus’ leave me the’hell ‘lone,” he shouted into Teal’c’s chest, after tripping on the threshold. The big man simply grasped him firmly around his upper arms and lifted him upright. Carefully he guided O’Neill back into his house and closed the door behind them.

He directed O’Neill back into his cluttered living room, and after observing the debris of bottles and garbage already on the floor, simply swept the latest set off the coffee table and settled Jack there, holding him steady with one hand as he flipped open his cell phone.

“MajorCarter,” he said mellifluously. “He is here and we will be returning in an hour after he has,” and he glanced down at Jack before going on, “cleaned up. I know time is short, but it is unavoidable.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” muttered Jack belligerently. Teal’c gazed down at him with a serene, but implacable face.

“O’Neill, DanielJackson is very sick. Very sick,” he repeated. He paused until Jack found himself forced to meet his eyes. “And he is calling for you.”

The voice was almost unrecognizable as eager, rapid-fire means of communication for Daniel Jackson. Hoarse from wrenching cries, Sam listened as Daniel seemed to be relieving all his worst nightmares, or memories, the two seemed to be indistinguishable.

Dr. Frasier was doing everything she could think of, and had consulted with anyone that might have something that could help, but nothing seemed to work. Sam sat at his bedside, holding his hand through the web of monitor lines and cables that filled the room. He hadn’t been aware of anyone or anything around him for hours now. They had to restrain him early on, but for the last little while it hadn’t been necessary; he simply didn’t have enough strength to do anything but call. Sam bit back the tears as he continued.

“Jack, Jack, where are you, Jack?”

Janet had tried sedating him, but as weak as he was, she didn’t want to risk depressing his vitals in any way.

There was a sound at the door, choked off. Colonel O’Neill stood there swaying, eyes dark and staring out of a pale face smudged with whiskers. Teal’c stood behind him, a look of deep sorrow etching lines around his eyes and mouth. Sam shot to her feet and rushed over to him.

“Thank God you’re here, Colonel.”

O’Neill gave no sign he heard her, just moved, almost unwillingly until he stood besides Daniel’s bed, looking down at him, the alcohol burning out of his system in a flood of guilt and pain.

“Oh God, Danny,” the Colonel rasped out. “Did I do this to you?” At the sound of his voice, Daniel stopped. The eyes turned toward him, shaking white hands reached out and were caught by the restraints. The colonel swore viciously and turning, dragged the chair, pulled it next to Daniel and reaching in, took the cold thin hands in his own strong brown ones.

“J’ck,” whispered Daniel, the words a breath in the hushed room. “Where?”

The colonel cleared his throat.

“I’m here now, Daniel.” The hands gripped his tightly and the disoriented blue eyes tried to focus on his face.

“J’ck, don’ go. Don’ leave.” The pain in Jack’s eyes at Daniel’s words looked like an old friend he was welcoming back. He shook his head.

“Not going anywhere, Danny. Staying right here.” Daniel’s fevered eyes searched Jack’s face for the truth and seemed to find what he needed, because although his grasp never loosened on Jack’s hands, he gave a little nod, and his eyelids drooped shut. Panicked, Jack looked around wildly for Janet but she was beside them, her hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“It’s all right, he’s just sleeping,” she said assuring him. Jack turned back to look at Daniel, and took a long deep breath. “But we’ve got to figure out what is causing this. Daniel is running out of time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It was the bullet,” Janet announced triumphantly as she moved into the room at high speed an hour later, startling Jack out of the light doze he’d fallen into, Daniel’s hands still clasping his.

“Well that would seem fairly obvious,” said Jack in a soft but irritated voice, glancing at Daniel to see if he’d been disturbed. Janet paused a moment to give him a gimlet glare.

“When I say it was the bullet,” she continued, her voice a little quieter, “I mean that the bullet itself was treated with something to make it particularly deadly.”

“Like a poisoned arrow,” Sam interjected quickly.

Janet nodded.

“Exactly like that. I should have thought about it as soon as it was determined the Colonel’s ‘hitchhiker’ was an Asgard device, but it didn’t occur to me until a few minutes ago. Sure enough, when I ran tests, it’s right there. The bullet was coated with some kind of toxin that once inside the body, became active. The bullet looks perfectly normal because it *is*, it just has a passenger that’s deadly.”

“There seems to be a lot of that going around,” snapped Jack. “Can you fix it or stop it or …” and he waved a hand irritably.

“Yes,” Janet said, a relieved smile on her face. “Once I identified the substance, it was fairly easy to synthesize an antidote. It should be ready in a few minutes.”

“How long until we’re sure it works?” asked Sam. Janet nodded vigorously.

“That’s the nice part; there should be some results almost immediately. Of course Daniel’s body has been pretty thoroughly stressed and exhausted, so it will take him some time to recover, but we should see an improvement in his condition right away.”

True to her word, five minutes later Janet was injecting a syringe into Daniel’s IV. Daniel didn’t rouse, but his breathing evened out, and some of the monitor displays seemed to please Janet. Gently she brushed the hair off Daniel’s forehead and his eyes fluttered open.

“How are you feeling, Daniel?” she asked softly. He blinked at her, trying to orient himself. Drawing a deep breath, he smiled a little.

“Better,” then he glanced past Janet and saw Jack, saw his hands gripping Jack’s, and very deliberately loosened his grasp. The moment Jack saw his expression change, he was pushing himself to his feet.

“Wait a minute,” interrupted Sam urgently. Jumping to her feet, she pointed at the Colonel. “This means you didn’t override the programming at all!”

Jack stiffened and was poised to head for the door until Teal’c clamped a big hand over his shoulder and pushed him back down beside Daniel firmly.

“I believe it is important for you both to hear what MajorCarter has to say, O’Neill,” and he looked at Daniel pointedly. Daniel glared at Teal’c and then turned his head away to stare again at the wall. Jack’s face went blank and his eyes went black, which Sam knew meant he was livid but he didn’t try to move again.

“Colonel, you said that at the end you thought you threw off the programming, isn’t that right? And that’s why you feel accountable for what happened to Daniel?”

The look on his face told Sam that he would never forgive her for this. She hoped desperately he would hear her out. He answered through his teeth.

“Yes, Major Carter,” he answered, grinding the words out. Sam glanced down, seeing Daniel still facing the wall.

“But Colonel, it was never the purpose for you to *kill* Daniel. I mean, at least, not with the initial shot. This must have been an experiment on more than one level. First of all to see if they could control you sufficiently that they could override all your normal emotions, and then to see if this toxin would remain undetected long enough to kill. Don’t you see, Colonel?” Inwardly Sam implored both of them to listen, to think about what she was saying, to not be so damned stubborn for once! “It was enough for you to shoot him, you didn’t have to kill him. You *might* have been becoming more conscious towards the end, but the last thing they would have wanted was for you to kill him with the shot.” When Sam stopped talking, she found she was shaking, and groped behind her for one of the chairs, landing in it awkwardly, her eyes still fixed on the Colonel’s face.

Sam still hadn’t looked away from the Colonel as he worked through what she had said. She knew it would be difficult for him to give up the responsibility for what had happened, but he *had* to see he was as much a victim as Daniel. He lifted his eyes slowly from his hands clenched in fists on his knees to look at Daniel’s stricken face.

“Jack.” It was never your fault.

“Daniel.” I don’t blame you for not believing me; for being angry.

“I,uhhh…” There isn’t anything I can say to make this better.

“Yeah…” It’s over. We’re both still here.

Jack tentatively reached over and grasped Daniel’s uninjured shoulder, squeezing and gesturing awkwardly and Daniel grinned, holding Jack’s eyes with his own. His face slowly clearing, Jack nodded to Carter. She took a deep breath.

“When we find out who did this to us, Daniel,” the Colonel said, his voice carrying a full load of menace.

Daniel finished hoarsely, “They are going to be sorry sons of bitches.” He took a long deep breath, and hand still in Jack’s, closed his eyes and went to sleep again. Teal’c gently squeezed O’Neill’s shoulder and moved to stand beside Carter.

“How long will it take for DanielJackson to recover?” he asked Janet.

“The wound itself wasn’t that serious. Now that the toxin has been neutralized I’d say we should start having to deal with an antsy archaeologist in, ohhh, about two days.”

“Sounds good to me, Doc,” Jack muttered and then turned to glare at Carter, though there was a sparkle in his eyes that had been missing before. “And did you send Teal’c out to shanghai me?”

“Well,” Sam answered, her own blue eyes glowing, “the mountain couldn’t come to Mohammad!”

Mea Culpa - an SG-1 story

Fri, 25 Feb 2005 15:23:31 GMT

Daniel pushed his glasses out of the way, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and tried again to focus on the notes he was recording in his journal. All he really wanted to do was chase after the locals that had taken Jack, but he knew he'd end up getting himself caught and then Sam and Teal'c would really have no clue as to what had happened. He would just have to wait until they came back from checking out that naquadah signature.

They'd known the radio contact on this world would be sketchy, but since the MALP hadn't shown any sign of intelligent life, let alone hostiles, it hadn't seemed a big issue. Jack hadn't been pleased, but then again, Jack wasn't pleased anytime anything went wrong, no matter how minor it seemed to Daniel.

The thought of Jack forced the image of him, as Daniel had last seen him, head streaming blood from a cut above his temple being dragged off by the natives of P7J 244, dangling limply from the hard grasp of his captors. From what Daniel could make out, hidden in the dense foliage where Jack had shoved him seconds before the attack, the inhabitants didn't appear to be very technologically advanced, probably comparable to Earth's Bronze Age if their weapons were any clue. It had all happened so fast.

They’d been scouting around, half-heartedly looking for some caves the MALP had shown as possible archaeological digs, mostly just killing time waiting for Sam and Teal’c to come back. It was supposed to be a quiet world. They couldn’t tell if was even inhabited.

Daniel hadn't heard anything, but Jack's dark eyes had narrowed, and he'd shoved Daniel into some heavy ground cover, giving him the look that said, "Be quiet and don't do anything stupid." He'd followed that with the hand gesture for radio silence, or at least that was what Daniel thought that one meant. The Colonel hadn't waited for Daniel's acknowledgement; he just moved away quickly and silently through the dense undergrowth.

Seconds later he was slumping against a tree, sliding to the ground, a bright blossom of blood trickling down through the grey brown hair and along his jaw line. Daniel had started to leap to his feet, scrabbling for the Beretta securely strapped into its holster on his leg when several shapes had materialized out of the forest. They had ignored Jack's gun, but the razor edged survival knife he wore had nearly started a fight between two of the men. Fighting back the instinct to race towards his friend, he cursed the mineral readings that had split the team and sent Sam and Teal'c away and left Jack with him.

He knew the SOP on this one, and hard as it had been to watch them drag Jack away, the best thing to do was to wait for Sam and Teal'c and hope Teal'c could follow the trail. His radio spoke scratchily.

"Colonel?" Grabbing for it he spoke, stuttering in his anxiety, trying not to shout. Who knew if Jack's radio was still broadcasting? "S-s-s-sam, I’ve been waiting for you to check in. – he, he, he's been taken by the locals. They didn't see me but they dragged Jack off." There was an almost imperceptible pause and then the captain responded. "We're about one klick off, Daniel, double-timing to your location."

Moments later, Daniel peered cautiously out from the shrubs to see Teal'c and Sam jog into the small clearing. Must have done more than double-time, thought Daniel, impressed despite his anxiety for Jack. As he extracted himself from the middle of the large plant where he’d been hiding, he could see Sam was barely containing her impatience.

"What happened," she asked in a low voice.

"We were just looking around, Jack heard something I guess, because he pushed me into that bush and the next thing I saw, he was falling. He was unconscious and bleeding pretty heavily from the head."

"Was it the inhabitants of P7J 244 who attacked you, DanielJackson?” questioned Teal’c.

Daniel nodded.

“Without warning?" Teal'c asked.

"Yes, but we might be trespassing on burial ground or holy grounds. They didn't kill Jack; just knocked him out." Sam knew he was trying to reassure himself that they had just stumbled into some misunderstanding and that if just got the chance to explain, to apologize, then everything would be fine. Sam didn't bother to answer, just turned to Teal'c.

"Can you track the colonel?"

"Easily," he rumbled.

"Then let's go," she said.

"Umm, slight problem with that idea," Daniel said, pushing up his glasses self-consciously. Turning back to Daniel, Sam looked concerned.

"Are you injured, Daniel? I thought they didn't see you."

"Well, they didn't see me, but, um." He could feel Teal'c's eyebrow rising without even looking at him. "I twisted my ankle and I'm not moving really fast. I’m pretty sure it’s sprained. Otherwise I would have tried to follow them."

Sam started to speak, closed her mouth, and then changed her mind.

"Just as well. If they got the colonel I'm pretty sure they'd have heard you following them. How bad is your ankle? Can you get yourself back to the gate?"

He nodded vigorously. The last thing he was going to do was use up Teal'c or Sam's valuable time babysitting him back to the Stargate. Sam looked relieved

"Ok, you get back to the 'gate, tell Hammond what happened, and send backup. We'll go after Colonel O'Neill."

"Now," he said, trying to act casual, "the 'gate is that direction, right?" and taking his best guess he pointed back the direction the two had come. Sam and Teal'c exchanged glances and Teal'c pushed his arm until it pointed roughly 90 degrees from his original guess. "Right," he said, forcing cheerfulness into his voice. "Now you guys go after Jack and I'll have Hammond send out the cavalry."

When they still hesitated, Daniel frowned.

"Listen, he was bleeding pretty badly and I don't need you to hold my hand on the way back to the 'gate while he's being dragged through the forest by the local villagers!" he finished scowling.

“We also don’t need you getting lost in the woods with a sprained ankle and locals who appear to be hostile,” Sam snapped back.

"If O'Neill was badly injured, there is no time to lose," Teal'c said gravely to Sam. She sighed, biting her lip and looking at Daniel.

"You're sure you can make it back on your own, Daniel?" Sam asked, still looking doubtful.

"Yes, Captain Carter, sir, ma’am," said Daniel in an acerbic voice. The captain’s blue eyes narrowed.

"We'll be in radio range if you need us," she said briefly, and with scarcely a leaf quivering to show their passing, she and Teal'c disappeared into the forest. Daniel sighed. He was going to pay for that last smart-ass remark, he knew, but at least they were going after Jack now instead of dithering about him.

It was starting on towards dusk; if he was going to get back to the ‘gate before full dark he’d better get a move on. Shoving his hair back out of his face and yanking the boonie down, he started limping as quickly as he could toward the ‘gate, wishing again he had noticed that tree root. He was the first to admit he was the least athletic of the team, but spraining an ankle by tripping in the forest? Without even being chased by bad guys? Jack had already been having quite a lot of fun at his expense before the natives had happened along.

*Focus on your ankle, Daniel,* he told himself as sharp pains shot up his shin. *Don’t think about Jack.* Don’t think about the way his head had lolled on his shoulders bonelessly. The way his boots had scuffed twin tracks in the pine needles, boot toes digging in as he dangled between the two native’s impassive grips. His mind went on without a pause. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to shake off the worry. *Why am I worried? Jack has a head like a steel post,* he told himself grimacing.

*Quite a nice world,* he thought, *even if it doesn’t have any ruins.* He was moving at as brisk a gait as his ankle would allow, inhaling deep gulps of the cool fresh air, when the skin on the back of his neck prickled. Ducking under the huge overhanging fronds of what looked like a giant fern, Daniel held himself as still as he could. He hoped his heart was only pounding loudly in his own ears and wasn’t audible to whomever it was following him. *One of the natives?* He didn’t think so. Jack would scoff, or then again, maybe he wouldn’t, but this felt different. It wasn’t something he’d heard, as much as an itching down his spine. Feeling only slightly ridiculous, he reached down and flipped the snap of the Beretta’s holster.

Daniel strained his ears and eyes, but if something had been out there, it was gone now. He waited until the prickling had gone from his scalp and noticed his ankle was really starting to hurt. With a sigh, he sat down and started rummaging through his pack. With a grunt of relief he yanked the ace bandage out of the basic first aid kit Janet had insisted they all start carrying. Carefully he unlaced his boot and eased it off his foot, hissing at the sharp jabbing pains. Gently he pulled the sock down and off his foot. The flesh above where the sock had been bulged around the marks the elastic band had left and was already starting to discolor. Wrapping the bandage deftly around his ankle, he pulled the sock carefully back over his foot and with the boot unlaced, gingerly slipped his foot back in. Once he was upright again, he slowly applied weight to his foot, and satisfied it would bear his weight, if not very comfortably, stepped as quietly as he could back out onto the faint path, moving once again towards the Stargate. But he left the holster unsnapped.

Finally he started recognizing he was getting close to the Stargate. He could even see the top of it flashing in and out between the trees. Somehow though, he had followed a different trail back and he found himself standing at the top of the small defile that lay between him and the ‘gate. Going around it would mean fighting his way through a dense growth of small trees and something that behaved remarkably like wild blackberry vines, thorns and all. He decided he could make it down and back up the other side if he took it slowly. *As if I have a choice,* he said sarcastically to himself. Though it was small, both sides were very steep, and as Daniel started cautiously down the hillside, his boots sank into the soft, heavy forest detritus. Deciding to forget dignity, he took of his pack and had just started lowering himself onto his bottom to scoot down when something made him look around.

Nothing.

Hastily digging in his pack for the mag-light, Daniel shone it around through the deepening gloom of the forest. He thought he saw what looked like movement.

“Hello?” he called out uncertainly. “Someone there?” No one answered. There was no sound. His blood was roaring in his ears. “Just great,” he muttered under his breath. Jerkily he shoved the flashlight back into the pack. As nice as it would be to have, he would need both hands to get safely down the ravine and up again the other side. His hands shook a little and he cursed in ancient Babylonian under his breath. *If that is Sam getting even for that snide remark…,* he thought to himself a trifle grimly. But he knew it wasn’t. Sam was klicks away by now, saving Jack’s butt, or he hoped to God she was. Carefully sliding on his butt, pushing his pack in front of him, Daniel made his way down to the bottom of the ravine, straining his ears over the sound of his own exertions and heard a soft squish as his feet found the small streamlet that ran through the gully.

“Ok, now for the hard part,” he told himself aloud, and tossing his pack halfway up the steep hillside he started to climb, digging his good foot deeply into the soft forest debris. Slipping, sliding and cursing in an almost continuous monotone, he reached his pack, giving his bad ankle a few sharp twists on the way. He stood for a moment, brushing the dirt and twigs from his hands and butt. It was almost completely dark now, and though his eyes had adjusted, it was getting difficult to see.

He had to hurry. Daniel knew Sam and Teal’c would do their best, but right now he’d be grateful to see even the jarheads of SG3!

Grabbing the pack, he heaved it up the slope. It landed just at the lip of the ravine, teetered there for a moment, and then slowly at first but gaining speed, started tumbling back towards him. Without thinking, Daniel lunged for it. His ankle held just long enough for the heavy field pack to reach him but under the momentum of the pack it gave way with an ominous grinding sensation. He felt himself cart wheeling gracelessly down the ravine, bushes and branches ripping through his hands as he tried desperately to stop, but nothing slowed his progress until his head met an old blow down at the bottom of the defile and his glasses, which amazingly had remained on his face through the first part of the fall were launched like a rocket.

Fighting against the black, he lay there. And when the face appeared though, floating blurrily above his own, it was too much, and with a groan, he closed his eyes and surrendered.

Rough hands, white blinding pain, *so cold*, fleeting impressions intruded into Jack’s barely conscious mind. Band wrapped around his chest, sharp jerk, and he was dangling. *Breathe, hard to breathe, band too tight…ah, better.* Dragged over and laid down, head pounding. *Going to be sick, hate throwing up, damnitall,* stomach roiling, lurching over to spew. The violence of the motion sent him plunging back gratefully into the dark.

Teal’c studied the ground carefully. To Sam, there was absolutely nothing different about that particular piece of forest dirt, but Teal’c had positively glowed. *Well, for Teal’c anyway,* Sam amended silently.

“We are not far behind them,” he said in a low voice. “But I would recommend that we find shelter for the night. It will soon grow too dark for me to follow their trail.” The captain groaned inwardly. She had desperately hoped they would be able to recover the Colonel and get back through the ‘gate tonight. She hadn’t been comfortable leaving Daniel to make his own way back, and never would have if he hadn’t needled her into it. For all the progress the civilian had made since they first started traveling through the wormholes, he was still an expert at finding trouble. Besides, Sam was pretty sure his ankle was hurt more badly than he was letting on. She never should have allowed him to get to her like that! Come to think of it, Sam pondered, why had she? Probably because she knew he was just as anxious to get the Colonel back as she was. She looked up to see Teal’c watching her.

“I do not believe DanielJackson will have a problem returning. He has become more capable than I would have initially believed,” the big Jaffa rumbled, his face impassive. Sam hated it when he read her mind like that.

“Yeah, well,” she sighed, “it’s not like I had a lot of choices anyway. Besides, Daniel is probably already back swilling down coffee.” Sam looked around. “Any place in particular look good to you for bivouac?”

“There is a large predator that hunts these woods nocturnally. It appears there is a shelter placed high in one of the trees that would be suitable,” he responded.

“A predator? How big?” she asked, a little nervously.

“It is not always the size that dictates the level of danger. We should retire to the shelter immediately.” Though it didn’t show on her face, Teal’c words were unnerving to Sam. Coming from the perpetually stoic Jaffa, the concern sounded almost anxious. He pointed out small hand and footholds that had been etched into the wood and boosted her up to reach the first one. Climbing up a tree with a full pack wasn’t easy, especially after the long day they’d already had and her muscles were beginning to shake when she finally pulled herself up onto the small platform. She scooted as far over as she could to give Teal’c room to climb up. It looked like they were in for a cozy night. There was just enough room for their sleeping rolls with the packs tied and dangling over the edge.

Sam was sitting cross-legged eating a protein bar when some movement out in the darkness below them caught her eye. She touched Teal’c’s arm and he nodded, already aware of the motion. Reaching into her pack, Sam pulled out her mag-lite but after thinking, put it back. Teal’c nodded his agreement. Better to not let whomever, or whatever was down there know they were aware of it.

A faint smell drifted up and Sam wrinkled her nose at the pungent aroma. This must be whatever it was that had made Teal’c so uneasy. She tried to imagine what could be dangerous enough to unsettle the big warrior and she took a deep breath, grateful to whoever had taken the time to build this bolt hole.

“We are safe here,” Teal’c said. “Obviously the creatures are unable to climb, thus this society has become arboreal dwelling.”

“Probably another reason the Goa’uld aren’t too interested in this place.”

“Agreed. Without substantial mineral deposits or technology to justify the expense, there would be little reason for the system lords to invest resources in this world, given how dangerous these predators appear.”

Sam mulled that over for a moment. “Well, it’ll be up to General Hammond. I’m sure we can handle the wildlife, but whether there’s anything here worth the trouble remains to be seen.”

“I suggest you sleep, CaptainCarter,” Teal’c said in his abrupt way. “I will take the first watch. I would also suggest you tie yourself to the platform in case you roll off while sleeping.” The idea, while practical, did nothing to help Sam relax.

She spent the entire time until her watch drowsing and then awakening with a start from a dream of falling. When Teal’c touched her arm she was already awake. Pulling out a bottle of water while Teal’c composed himself to perform Kel No Reem, she allowed herself to worry about the Colonel for the first time since Daniel had told them what happened. While following the trail of bloodspots and scuffmarks, she had focused exclusively on making plans to retrieve him, but Daniel had said he was unconscious, and though he didn’t say, the urgency in Daniel’s voice and the frown etched into his forehead told her how concerned he was.

This should be a fairly straightforward operation. After all, these guys weren’t even using iron yet. She wrapped the blanket more tightly around her shoulders and squirmed to lean unobtrusively against Teal’c’s broad, heat-radiating back. God, what she’d give for some coffee right now.

There was a strange ‘thwick’ sound, and Teal’c slumped lifelessly against her, his heavy body nearly knocking her over. Before she had time to react she felt the dart strike her own shoulder, and then she too, was lost in the darkness.

*Sam! Teal’c! Daniel! Where the hell are you guys!* Was he making any noise? Jack couldn’t even hear his own voice. There was an incredible pain in his head; he hoped he’d had fun getting this headache! He realized he was laying down. It was so dark; was he blind? Jack blinked, trying to clear his vision.

Footsteps approached and he forced himself to sit up. Oh shit, big mistake. The nausea rose up and broke over him like a wave, and retching seized him again. He felt cool fingers on his forehead and the back of his neck, holding him the way his mother had when he’d been sick as a little boy. A soft rag wiped the bitterness from his lips and raised a cup to his mouth while a voice gently urged him to drink. Unthinkingly he swallowed a mouthful before lashing out with a wild arm, spilling the liquid all over himself and the body belonging to the voice. The voice tsked with amused exasperation, and mopped him up, then pushed him without effort back down onto his back. He could see just the faintest outline and caught a glimpse of platinum blonde hair in braids and wide unseeing white eyes, then whatever was in the mouthful he’d swallowed drew him gently down into sleep again.

Daniel frantically tried to think anything that might help him survive an encounter with the most alien and frightening predator he’d seen on any of the worlds they’d visited. To begin with, there was the size. The male, or so he assumed, currently inspecting him was roughly the size of a pony, but that was probably the only thing that made it even remotely comparable to an earth creature. It circled around him, padding softly on strange, soft feet, rather like the mastedges from Abydos, the strange vaguely humanoid face turned toward him, four short bi-jointed arms ending in claws dangled from the short torso.

Catching only snatches of images from the quick glances he dared take, there was one thing Daniel couldn’t help but notice. The thing, being, whatever it was, had no visible mouth. It made the slightly human cast of the face seem almost unbearably disturbing. It was nearly full dark now, though no moon or stars were out yet. He became aware of a low whine, so soft and steady it was almost inaudible, slowly growing in intensity, but somehow, not volume.

He closed his eyes.

OK, this definitely ranked as one of the less favorable situations he’d gotten into lately. Jack’s voice berated him for his carelessness and he irritably told it to shut up and let him think.

It was coming closer. He could feel its footfalls near his shoulder, though he still hadn’t heard anything. *I would probably be a lot more frightened if my ankle didn’t hurt so much*, he thought dizzily. There was a tug and then a hard yank on his shoulder.

Daniel let out a startled yelp and struggled wildly, trying frantically to pull himself loose. The whine grew in intensity, buzzing in his ears and shaking his skull. Daniel forced himself to go limp, and once he stopped fighting he realized the hold the creature had on his shoulder was uncomfortable because the fabric was being drawn so tightly, not because its claws were buried in Daniel’s flesh. Daniel found himself referring to the creature as BB (for Big Bad…) While being pulled out of the small streamlet he’d been half lying in, Daniel tried to hold his ankle up as he was awkwardly dragged along but it still received several hard knocks that made him curse, and the jerking motion as he was yanked along made his head swim. The size of the creature kept his entire upper body lifted off the ground, but his lower half was battered, scratched and bruised even more than it had been during his tumble down the ravine.

It was so dark now Daniel couldn’t really see anything. He fought back an overwhelming urge to try and get free when the claws slipped on the fabric of his heavy military issue jacket, tearing long grazes in his shoulder and dropping him back down onto the forest mast. The strange whining noise rose in intensity. Daniel took the warning for what it was and stayed still. BB took a firmer grip on the collar of his fatigues, continuing to drag him on. Even through his instinctive terror, Daniel couldn’t help but notice with the very small still calm portion of his scientist’s brain that so far, it had actually only helped him. He could still be lying in the middle of the stream at the bottom of the slope. The voice of Jack drawled in his ear, *All the better to eat you with, my dear!” *Yeah, well, with no mouth it wouldn’t be eating me, Jack,* he snapped back to his inner tormenter, but Daniel couldn’t help but wonder where was it going with him, anyway? Was he destined to be some kind of Alien Chow for this thing’s spawn? He tried to ignore images of being absorbed through this thing’s skin, shuddering.

After a few more tugs, Daniel found himself at rest against a huge fallen tree that was partially decomposed, the interior hollowed out but part of the tree wall remaining, forming a small den. When BB released him and backed away, Daniel scrambled quickly crab-fashion until he felt the tree trunk hard and solid at his back, still keeping his eyes down. When there was no further activity, he risked a quick glance up. BB was regarding him closely, and Daniel got the distinct impression he should stay where he was. It stayed still for another moment before moving off, a vague outline in the darkness.

When Daniel next glanced up, it was gone. With the adrenaline producing source gone too, Daniel felt the onset of what he knew to be shock setting in. His ankle throbbed in time to his heartbeat, with his head setting up an unwelcome accompanying backbeat. He reached up to feel the goose egg on the side of his head where he had struck the tree at the end of his plunge down the ravine. At least he wasn’t bleeding, if you didn’t count the myriad of small cuts, grazes and scratches he’d acquired both before and after meeting his Tsoh’eht. He knew he should be trying to get away, trying to get help for Jack, but the cold and the pain from his head and ankle were making rational thought a struggle at best.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he woke with a jerk as something jostled him. He cowered back against the tree as it dropped a large object and then backed up. Hesitantly, Daniel reached for what he discovered was his pack. With equal amounts of relief and disbelief, he pulled the pack to him and reaching in, pulled out a bottle of water and the first aid kit.

“Uh…thanks,” he said a little nervously as he popped open the Tylenol bottle and quickly downed two with a long draft from the water bottle. After a cautious look at his keeper, he dug a little deeper down into the pack and found one of the chocolate bars he’d stashed in there. Hands shaking, he tore off the wrapper and crammed most of it into his mouth. Chocolate was always good, but this was beyond words. He considered offering some to the being, but chocolate and equines? Is that even close to what these were? Not horses, that eerie humanoid face staring at him with blank white eyes made that clear. Giving it up, he stuffed the rest in, and found a clean dry pair of socks.

It seemed surreal to be calmly changing into dry socks with his own personal monster a few feet away watching him, but he couldn’t honestly think what else to do. By the time he’d managed to work his wet boots and socks off and pull the dry ones on, he looked up to see the alien being still watching him. Despite the cold and the pain, he found that somehow he wasn’t as frightened as he had been. There was a definite intelligence at work in the being, though exactly *how* intelligent he wasn’t sure. He knew he needed to try and find some way to communicate, but the meds were starting to take the razor edge off his ankle and head, allowing him to feel just how tired he was.

It had been a long, strange frightening day.

He reached one more time into the pack and this time pulled out the survival blanket. Leaning his head back against the tree trunk, he pulled it up over his shoulders and closed his eyes. He wondered where Jack was at that moment; if Sam and Teal’c had found him yet. Daniel knew he was safe here though, that Gnaeus would protect him from the others. As Daniel slid into sleep, distantly he wondered where that thought had come from and how he knew BB’s real name.

Sam swam upwards toward consciousness, the spinning of her head making her groan.

“CaptainCarter, are you well?”

It was Teal’c. Sam swallowed, opened her eyes, and with an effort focused on his face. He was looming over her, looking as worried as she’d ever seen him look. She tried to speak, but nothing came out.

Coughing, Sam tried again.

“We were drugged? Something on the darts?” Her voice was croaky but at her obviously rational response, Teal’c’s face resumed its usual impassivity.

“Indeed. The fact that my symbiote struggled to neutralize the drug explains why the Goa’uld do not frequent this world.”

“Not worth the hassle,” she agreed, sitting up with some difficulty. Teal’c reached out to steady her. “How long have we been out?”

“I have been awake approximately two hours,” he replied. “I am uncertain how long I was unconscious prior to that.”

Sam looked around. They were sitting on another platform similar to the one they had been camped on. This one, though, was part of a huge network that stretched through several massive trees and had multiple levels connected with simple rope walkways. They were alone on their platform, and the walkway connecting it to the others had been swung away and tied off out of reach. They were effectively marooned on a small island aerie.

“Do you think these are the same people that took the Colonel?”

“It seems likely, but I have not seen Colonel O’Neill.”

She could see their packs and other equipment piled on the same platform their rope pathway was moored to. *No help there*, she thought, trying to consider what other options they had.

“Looks like we’re stuck until someone decides they want to talk to us.” It occurred to Sam that although it was very late, or very early depending on which day you were referring to, she could see her surroundings fairly clearly in the light from the two moons high overhead. *Must make the tides interesting,* she thought absently, rubbing the lump on her shoulder where the dart had struck her.

“Does your shoulder trouble you, CaptainCarter?” Teal’c asked, noticing.

“I’m fine, Teal’c. Nothing Janet will need to worry about. What about you? Any problems?”

“My symbiote has already flushed the toxin from me; I am fully recovered.” Sam always thought he looked smug whenever he referred to Junior’s healing capabilities, though she knew she must be imagining it.

When she saw him looking past her, his eyes fixed on something behind her, Sam whirled around, instinctively reaching for the sidearm that was no longer there.

A tall woman, her long wild hair like a halo around her head stood on the platform by their gear. Even from the ten meters that separated them Sam could see the scars that wound across her across her face. Hazel eyes watched them thoughtfully. As they waited, a dark man with silver hoop earrings came up behind her and began releasing the rope that held the bridge. When it was free, he stepped back and picked up a short bow, training an arrow on them with casual but unmistakable meaning. The woman easily swung the bridge over to them, looked at them and then nodded at the man with the bow, her message clear. *Come across, but don’t try anything stupid.*

Sam held up her hands and nodded to show she understood, then stepped lightly onto the tightly woven bridge, moving quickly across to the other side. Teal’c waited until she had stepped off, then followed, his greater weight causing the bridge to sway and dip with every step. When they both were standing before her, the woman spoke.

“My name is Mairken. I am of the Davaan Tribe. Ordinarily we would have simply killed you, but I had some questions and I think you have the answers I need. You are not from one of the other tribes, are you?”

“Ah, no. I’m Captain Samantha Carter, this is Teal’c. We’re looking for a friend who was taken. I don’t know what we did to offend your people, but that was not our intention. As soon as we get our friend back we’ll leave your land.”

“The Tribes hold no lands,” Mairken said dismissively. “We leave that for the Tsoh’eht.” Sam glanced at Teal’c to see if this was a term he recognized. He shook his head slightly.

“The Tsoh’eht?” questioned Sam. Mairken raised an eyebrow and turned to the man beside her.

“Another who hasn’t heard of the Tsoh’eht, Byrne.” He was average height with cropped dark hair and dark brown eyes. On his forearms he wore heavy leather cuffs, nicked and battered from hard use. His mouth quirked a little at Mairken’s words, and with a considering look on his face, lowered the bow.

“Where are you from?” he asked in a gravelly but pleasant voice.

“We came through the stone circle in the big meadow,” explained Sam. Byrne and Mairken’s eyes widened.

“The chapa’ai?” asked Mairken, looking shocked. “When?”

“At daybreak,” answered Sam, growing frustrated with the cross-examination. “Look, we really need to find our friend. He was injured and if you don’t know where he is, you need to let us go so we can find him,” she ended urgently.

“You are luckier than you know,” Mairken said, exasperated with their naïveté. “To dare the grassland is foolhardy indeed.”

“Because of the ‘Tsoh’eht,?’” Teal’c enunciated the word carefully.

“If they came through the Eye, they may not know of the Tsoh’eht, Mairken,” the man Byrne said, his dark eyes evaluating Teal’c’s easy stance but alert eyes, Sam’s sharp intelligence, the obvious bond between the big dark man and the blonde woman. “They do not appear to be foolish to me.”

“They are a terrible plague upon my people. They feed upon our minds like we feed upon beasts. Be that as it may,” Mairken went on, “you are lucky in another respect as well. The friend you seek is here. A group of my hunters mistook him for another tribe that has been raiding our hunting grounds. We have brought him here, but I fear he will not long survive.”

It was the noise that finally roused him, though once he began to wake from the strangely vivid dreams, the pain in his ankle was like cold water down his back. It was the whine again, that low furious thrum like angry bees that set his tender skull vibrating. Somehow this felt differently than it had before. The first time had been a warning, threatening, but not promising immediate attack as this did. While Daniel had slept, two moons had risen high, one crescent and the other full, flooding the night with moonlight. In the light that poured down, Daniel saw a being pacing back and forth, about twenty feet away. This one though, shimmered silver grey in the moonlight, not dark grey black like the one that had dragged him out of the stream and to a sort of shelter.

And the sound was growing steadily louder.

He wanted to move but was paralyzed, a flood of fear welling through him. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this afraid; even breathing seemed to threaten drawing dangerous amounts of attention to him. So helplessly he watched as the being sprang, only to be slammed into mid-leap by Gnaeus. The fear, the inability to think or move was gone as if someone had snapped a cord around his chest and he remembered his gun for the first time.

Wrestling it out of the holster, he pointed it at the two writhing forms merging and splitting, rearing and striking, those bizarre faces incongruously calm during such a furious battle. He could hear Jack hollering, *Damn it, Daniel, stop thinking and just fire the gun!* He couldn’t though, and watched helplessly as the two, silver and grey, kicked and slammed each other soundlessly, the gun dropping to rest on the ground at his side.

Finally the silver one broke away, and with a last emotionless glance aimed at Daniel disappeared into the woods. Gnaeus stood there a moment longer, head down, flanks heaving for breath. Then he looked at Daniel, who drew a long shaky breath.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice trembling a little despite his best efforts and dropped his eyes. Immediately he found himself thinking of the Stargate. Startled he looked up again at Gnaeus. And again he saw the Stargate. Daniel’s blue eyes widened, his jaw sagging a little as he stared at the alien being in disbelief. Deliberately he pictured the Stargate activating and he was instantly overwhelmed with a driving need to go there and open the ‘gate. He could see Gnaeus leaping into the blue vortex as it formed.

“No!” In his agitation he tried to scramble to his feet. Gnaeus backed up and Daniel felt the waves of terror flooding over him again. Hastily he dropped back down and looked away, biting back a cry of pain as he landed awkwardly on his injured ankle, but he thought urgently at the being, *It will mean death, cold, endings, nothingness.* This time in return he received no image, just a feeling of weariness and for the first time when Daniel looked at the great being, he saw the silver hairs among the dark grey on the hide, smooth except where ragged scars, old and new wound through. A sense then, of great dignity seeped through Daniel from Gnaeus, washing his mind in tones of pearl and silver and grey.

Tears sprang to Daniel’s eyes as regret, sorrow, and finally understanding all passed through him, but he nodded his willingness. Maybe he’d think of something else before they got back to the ‘gate. Besides, he had to get back and alert Hammond that Jack needed help. This might be the only way he could get there.

He reached for his boots, but before putting them on, took off the sock on his injured ankle and unwrapped the now grimy and battered bandage. It was limp and damp, and underneath it his ankle was black and blue, puffy with swelling, and extremely painful. Hissing through his teeth at the pain, Daniel re-wrapped it as tightly as he could stand, hoping to give it a little support. He had to sit for a moment afterward, his head swimming. It seemed to take forever to shove his swollen ankle back into a sock and then convince his boot it would fit over the unwieldy mess.

Finally stuffing everything back into his pack, he started trying to lever himself up. But the pain in his head was nearly blinding and once on his feet, he found himself swaying, arms wind milling for balance. Under one outstretched arm a narrow back insinuated itself steadying him. Without thinking Daniel locked his fingers into its suede-like pelt and leaned heavily against the being, thankful for the help.

The first streaks of ruddy dawn were gilding the tips of the trees high overhead as they made their halting way towards the meadow where the Stargate was. With Gnaeus’ guidance, the trail Daniel followed zigzagged up the ravine and up finally onto the large grassy plateau.

Readjusting his pack, Daniel took a fresh grip on Gnaeus’ coat, the pungent, almost metallic smell rising up and tickling his nose. The pain from his head when he sneezed nearly made him blackout, and his hold on the alien was the only thing that kept him on his feet. Gnaeus held still, waiting until Daniel signaled he was ready to go on. The knock on his head had made his vision worse than it normally was and he didn’t have the strength anymore to force his eyes to focus. He just followed where the alien led, concentrating on keeping moving, no longer paying attention to where they were going.

When Gnaeus finally stopped, Daniel dropped to the ground. It was several minutes before he was able to dig water out of his pack and down it along with a couple more Tylenol. Gnaeus circled him uneasily on those curious soft but tough feet, padding back and forth, its discomfort at being abroad in the half-dawn light discordant in the back of Daniel’s mind. Daniel looked around and realized they had stopped by the DHD. He tried to pull himself up onto it to dial, but the long, cold night, the pain from his head and ankle and the exhaustion had all taken its toll and he couldn’t quite lift himself up.

“You’re going to have to help,” he said to the alien, and whether it understood the words or recognized the problem, Gnaeus carefully knelt at Daniel’s side, waited until Daniel had a good hold, and then pulled the exhausted man to his feet, bearing his weight until Daniel leaned onto the DHD and began to dial.

Then there were shouts, and the staccato of gunfire as arrows whistled past and buried themselves in the ground between the DHD and the Stargate. Daniel instinctively ducked and snapped around to see Teal’c charging towards him, staff weapon fully charged and aimed directly at Gnaeus.

Sam dropped to her knees beside the Colonel. His head had been bound with a rough cloth and there was an ointment that had been smeared on the cloth and applied liberally to the cut. His eyes were open, but unseeing and he spoke unrecognizable snatches of phrases and babble.

“Colonel O’Neill? Colonel, can you hear me?” There was no sign from him and Sam looked up at Mairken and Byrne. “What happened to him?”

“He was struck with a rock from a sling.” Mairken spoke simply with no apologies, but it was obvious she was not pleased. “I have had our healer tending him, and it seemed initially to be a fairly simple injury, but he has not woken up completely.”

Sam was worried. Colonel O’Neill’s color was not good, and the fact that he was semi-conscious after nearly twelve hours was a very bad sign.

“We need to get him back to our healer. She’ll be able to give him medicine that will help him, but we need to go *now,* Sam said firmly. “If we don’t, you’re right, he *won’t* survive.”

Mairken glanced at Byrne.

“That may be difficult to arrange,” Byrne said, looking frustrated. “Krane will be reluctant to allow you to leave without an opportunity to question you.”

“Krane?” asked Sam distractedly. It was all she could do not order Teal’c to scoop the Colonel up and head back to the gate and screw the natives! Mairken looked disgusted.

“He is the new leader of the Davaan, and he is intent on making certain all recognize his authority.” At her words Sam glanced up.

“I thought you were the leader?” she said, puzzled.

Mairken’s lips thinned. “It is not so at this time.”

Sam could feel herself beginning to despair. Their freedom wasn’t in Mairken’s hands as she had thought.

They *had* to get Colonel O’Neill back to SGC.

“But that does not mean I am not without power,” said Mairken with a smug look on her face and Byrne glanced up with a grin.

One of Teal’c’s eyebrows shot up.

“Does that mean you will assist us?” he asked seriously. Mairken and Byrne assumed sober expressions.

“Since helping you will mean ridding the Tribe of ones contaminated by the Tsoh’eht, yes, that is what we mean,” said Byrne after a nod from Mairken.

“Contaminated by the Tsoh’eht?” repeated Sam dubiously.

“You have crossed the grasslands and are unknown by another tribe. This means you could have been *influenced* by the Tsoh’eht. They can *change* those they come in contact with. I have had to prove myself through a special trial to be not possessed by the Tsoh’eht. Believe me, it is not a pleasant experience.” His face twisted with remembered pain.

“What’s the alternative?” Sam asked with some apprehension.

“You will be turned out and left for the Tsoh’eht,” Mairken said promptly.

“Wait a minute,” Sam interrupted. “This sounds like a lose lose to me!” But Byrne was shaking his head.

“Mairken and I will take you to the clearing where the chapa’ai is and you can return to your home.”

“Why would you endanger yourselves this way for us?” Teal’c asked, his brown eyes suspicious.

“It has been long and long since anyone has come through the chapa’ai. There is a legend that those who come through the stone eye are gods, but I do not believe this. Still,” and Mairken shrugged, spreading her hands wide, “we have little reason to help Krane. He is a cruel man, small-minded and petty who enjoys inflicting pain.”

It was becoming very clear to Sam, that this Krane was not Mairken’s choice for a leader; still she wasn’t ready defy him openly just yet. This way, she could claim she was both protecting her tribe, covering her bets with the divine, and still please herself. Sam found herself grinning. This was a woman after her own heart. Mairken grinned back, several of her front teeth missing.

“I’ll send word to Krane that we have questioned you and determined you are Possessed. By the time he comes searching, we’ll be to the meadow. And none too soon, I think for your friend,” she said, as Colonel O’Neill spoke out in his sleep and moved restlessly.

While Sam and Teal’c waited, Mairken and Byrne brought their packs and a stretcher for the Colonel. This was the part Sam was dreading, but Byrne efficiently roped the Colonel to the stretcher and with help from Teal’c, gently lowered him down to where Mairken and Sam stood waiting. A ginger haired man with a wide grin saluted them from the platform, and waited to see them well on their way before turning, Sam supposed, to report to Krane.

Byrne and Teal’c handled the stretcher with the semiconscious but now nearly silent Colonel and Mairken and Sam flanked either side, watching for any signs of trouble. It was the dark pearl grey just before dawn comes, and mist hung heavily over the trees. It felt so good to have her pack and equipment back and to know they were on their way back; that Jack would be soon in Janet’s capable hands being clucked and tsked over for his carelessness in getting injured.

But a small but very vocal part of Sam was starting to wonder why none of the other SG teams had shown up yet. It hadn’t even been a mile back to the ‘gate from where they left Daniel. Even with a sprained ankle it shouldn’t have taken him too long to get back, but then again, there was no reason for the General to have not sent back up. Sam filed it under her, ‘Can’t Do Anything About It Right Now’ file and focused on keeping a sharp eye out for Tsoh’ehtiles. It was entirely possible that Mairken and Byrne were double-crossing them, or that Krane was smarter than Mairken seemed to think and had outmaneuvered them.

But it was a fairly uneventful journey back to the Stargate. Uneventful, that is, until they reached the meadow, and saw Daniel being attacked by what looked like a centaur crossed with a zombie. Instinctively she let off a burst of gunfire over its head, and Teal’c and Byrne sat the stretcher down, grabbing at their weapons. Mairken began firing arrows and Sam grasped her arm.

“You could hit Daniel,” she shouted at Mairken who glared back coolly.

“Better one should die than we all do,” she snapped back, but she stopped shooting arrows. Teal’c headed for Daniel and the being at a dead run, charging his staff weapon as he moved. Daniel whipped around, ducking, and then, impossibly, threw his arms up in front of the centaur being which was apparently NOT harming Daniel.

Not surprisingly, Daniel looked like he’d had a terrible night. His glasses were gone, mud besmirched his forehead, cheek and most of his clothes. Where there was no mud on his face, he had multiple grazes and abrasions. His camo jacket was ripped and bloody, and as he threw himself in front of the being, his injured ankle gave out, tumbling him to the ground.

Teal’c was stopped about forty feet away, looking almost as confused as Sam felt..

“Are you all right, DanielJackson?” he asked.

Daniel’s mouth quirked in that self-deprecating grin he had.

“I’ve been better, Teal’c,” he said, ducking his head and struggling to his feet. The being thrust itself under Daniel’s arm, supporting his rise to his feet.

“Is there a reason you do not wish us to kill the creature that is threatening you?” Teal’c continued calmly. Daniel just barely managed to control the hysterical little giggle that rose into his throat at Teal’c’s question.

“It’s an intelligent, sentient being, Teal’c. He’s just reacting because he thinks YOU are threatening ME,” Daniel explained. “If you could just back off, maybe turn off the weapon, I think he’d calm down.”

Teal’c nodded slowly and began to move backward, lowering the staff weapon and engaging the safety mechanism. Sam began following Teal’c’s example but Mairken and Byrne looked at her like she’d gone crazy.

“It will kill us all or worse if we do not kill it first!” Mairken said emphatically, once again putting arrow to bow and aiming.

“Give him a chance! Daniel can communicate with almost anything, I’ve seen him. Believe me, Teal’c’s and my weapon can destroy it much more efficiently and quickly if it comes to that,” said Sam persuasively. Mairken looked dubious, and lowered the bow, but still kept the arrow in hand.

Daniel turned back to Gnaeus. The suddenness of the attack had given Daniel a rush of adrenaline that was now starting to ebb.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Daniel asked Gnaeus. Again the picture of the wormhole formed in his mind and he saw the alien leaping into the vortex. He bowed his head and turned back to the DHD. The hair on the back of his neck stood up again and out of the corner of his eye, he saw shapes coming up onto the plateau and waiting at the edge. Other beings, of the Tsoh’eht, coming to bid Gnaeus farewell. There were hundreds of them all around the meadow.

Daniel stared in disbelief, and then blinked moisture back.

The silent homage somehow reminded him of that day on Abydos when he had lost Sha’re, when his people had gathered around him for that last farewell. Grimly he began punching symbols on the DHD. He dialed the Earth address, since it didn’t matter. Nothing would be going through and he could explain once they got back what had happened.

He kept his hand on Gnaeus’ back and as the wormhole formed, he felt the muscles bunch and stretch for that last powerful leap, felt too the joy and pride Gnaeus felt in performing this last act for his people. Daniel watched, eyes burning. The others watched too, and once the wormhole was stable, a great keen went up from among them, then they just seemed to melt away as the sun cleared the top of the Stargate.

Daniel let himself slump to the ground. He had seen the stretcher. They had Jack. He could only hope he wasn’t too badly hurt. *So much for sending the cavalry* he thought bitterly. He watched them approach and within moments Teal’c and Sam were at his side. He dragged himself over to the pallet Jack lay on.

“Jack,” he said softly. “Don’t tell me you’re going to let a little knock on the head slow you down.”

Jack’s eyes opened, roamed unseeing for a moment, and then seemed to almost snag on Daniel’s face. His lips moved but no sound came out but Daniel could read his lips. *Pony Boy,* and Daniel had to laugh.

A few days later at the debriefing, Jack stared at Daniel in complete and total disbelief.

“Are you completely off your rocker?” he roared at the unassuming archaeologist. Daniel looked discomfited but didn’t back down.

“We need to let Mairken’s people know the Tsoh’eht is intelligent, that they can be communicated with. Their whole culture is based on a war with what they think is a Tsoh’ehtile predator. Did you understand the part of my report that said that Gnaeus was telepathically communicating with me? Who knows how this would change their interaction?”

“Do you understand we both nearly DIED there?” Jack retorted acerbically.

Daniel looked down. “Well, yes, Jack, I was there for it,” he replied dryly. “But do you know what an enormous impact this could have on their culture? Both cultures? Ours too! Finding out how the Tsoh’eht communicates could prove or disprove human telepathy!”

Jack sighed dramatically. “Okay, Daniel, whatever, but I’m not going back there.”

“Actually, Dr. Jackson, Colonel O’Neill,” interrupted General Hammond, his face only slightly pink, “neither one of you is going back there. At least not any time soon.” Both men wheeled in their seats to face him.

“Why not?” blurted Daniel.

“We aren’t?” asked Jack, eyebrows shooting up.

The General sighed.

“There’s very little reason too,” he began, holding up a hand to forestall Daniel’s inevitable argument. “The Colonel is right this time, Dr. Jackson. I almost lost two very valuable team members on a world with nothing technological and very little resource wise to recommend it. That’s a chance I’m not willing to take again. We will revisit this topic again, I assure you, Dr. Jackson, but not any time soon and that is final.”

Daniel was ready to argue, but at the General’s last words, he closed his mouth, looking mutinous.

“Dr. Jackson,” the General continued more gently, “you are too valuable to this program to risk. We will re-evaluate this world in six months, all right?”

Daniel looked a little more pacified and shrugged.

The General glanced around the table. “If there’s nothing else, you are dismissed.”

Hammond stood up and headed for his office while Teal’c and Sam went downstairs towards the Gate room. Daniel stayed, shuffling papers, with Jack watching him.

“What happened with you and that, whatever it was, alien horse thing,” he asked after a moment of quiet. Daniel glanced up.

“It was in my report, …right,” he replied, furrowing his brow. “He was inside my head, Jack. The only reason he didn’t kill me was because he knew I could open the ‘gate for him. They’re as desperate to survive as Mairken’s people. They don’t really understand why humans attack them. They only began influencing the tribes after they’d been driven out of their homelands when the Goa’uld first brought humans to their world. Gnaeus and his people believed that by sacrificing to the chapa’ai, it would change the balance of power..” Daniel swallowed and looked down at his hands. “His people are dying, Jack, and Gnaeus has been watching it happen. He was very, very old and he’d been the dominant male of his line for a very long time. That was ending. He’d been challenged and he’d been beaten. He was a cast out. He didn’t want to linger on the fringes. I don’t know how to explain this, but, it was a good omen for his line, for the Tsoh’eht, that he would sacrifice himself this way for them. It gave honor to his family.”

“That why they did that group howl?” asked Jack a little skeptically, one eyebrow lifted.

Daniel nodded a little jerkily. “They were paying tribute to what he’d done.”

“And he found you in the woods?” Jack asked, incredulously. If Daniel would have been paying attention, he would have noticed the smirk creeping over Jack’s mouth.

“Yeah,” said Daniel, remembering, “I, uh, I had umm, fallen and knocked myself out.” He said this last in a rush, waiting for the razzing.

“Well, you know what that means,” Jack said, obviously savoring the moment as he sauntered towards the door, hands jammed deep into his pockets. Daniel looked bemused and shook his head.

“You’re all set up for Halloween this year,” Jack said with relish over his shoulder and winked as he slipped out the door, …you can dress up as Woody from Toy Story.”

Daniel stared blankly at the empty doorway, and then sighing, he grinned.

Atlantis...

Fri, 25 Feb 2005 03:19:56 GMT

So I have been overcome by a new compulsion in my life... Actually, I guess it's just an offshoot of a current compulsion (some might say obsession) but for some reason, I am completely and unabashedly in love with Stargate Atlantis. I know, I know, I didn't expect it either! Who would have thought! I mean, I still love Jack and Daniel and Teal'c and Sam, but there is something about the new team... The relationships still new and tentative, all the things to figure out about how they'll relate to each other, and all that delicious, delightful snarkiness that is just so alive and kicking. It just dawned on me that it's not really this new team I'm in love with; it's that they're (TPTB) are letting them do all the things we loved in the old team. Dear gods, I hope this DOESN'T mean that eventually Sheppard and McKay will be distant and vague with each other the way Jack and Daniel became. It's better now, but knowing that RDA wants to leave just seeps into every scene I see him play, making it bittersweet. But on the other hand, I look at Sheppard and McKay, Ford and Teyla and Weir and Carson, and they're just at the beginning of their journey. I can safely bestow my silly fannish heart without having to worry at all for AGES about them leaving or changing. If I had my choice, in all fairness, I would still pick Daniel and Jack and SG-1 over the Atlantis team, but only if we could have them the way they're supposed to be. At the risk of sounding like a Barbra Streisand album, the way they were. And since that's not going to happen, then by God I'm going to rejoice that I've got something, if not quite the same, at least as much fun!

Big Bad Meanies

Sun, 20 Feb 2005 19:08:30 GMT

Why do people have to be mean? I've seen the bumper sticker, mean people suck, but really, what are people getting out of it? On one of my favorite lists, one of the regular posters took deliberate offense at a really happy good-natured post and put up just the nastiest message! Why would you deliberate make someone else feel rotten? I genuinely don't understand it... And now, I'm upset about it and instead of being able to just enjoy the show the posting was about, all I remember is colored by the snottiness of that person. Partly I know it's because they're very upset about a change that is coming to the show, and I understand that makes them want to lash out, but the part of me that is angry for my friend who was sniped at just wants to slam them, and that part is really hard to squash. I like to rant and rave. Mean people really do suck though...

First Post

Sun, 20 Feb 2005 04:19:56 GMT

I hate subject lines! I never know what to put. They're like document titles, only worse! I started this journal to have a place to put my Stargate fanfic or anything else I decide to write, but mostly just to have place to put my thoughts that is private. Yeah, I know, that sounds utterly ridiculous considering it's open to anyone who surfs in, but really, since I don't know any of you, who cares? Well, that's not entirely true. I do know some of you, and some of you will even know who I am, because I'll invite you to this place, to look at what I write and what I think. But mostly this will just be a place for me to think out loud, or vent, or cheer, or whatever. It will be interesting to see what happens...