Sleepers

 

By Alli Snow

 

- One -

 

"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known."

- Carl Sagan

 

 

"Dobraye Ootra, Colonel. Zgravst vooeetiay?"

 

For almost ten full seconds Jack O'Neill maintained his composure, staring straight ahead with a slightly glazed expression, the same expression he'd worn since the elevator doors had opened.  He'd genuinely hoped that if he pretended they didn't exist, they would return the favor.  But no such courtesy, so such luck.  And now he had to look at them and somehow acknowledge their presence.

 

Captain Yuri Kozlov was still glancing over his shoulder, his mouth stretched in an ungainly smile that didn't reach his eyes, a smile that faded as the seconds passed, the doors closed, and Jack merely glanced in his direction.  Kozlov glanced at Alexei Voronin, a younger man who hardly looked old enough to bear the rank of Lieutenant.  Voronin shrugged and turned his attention to the descending number display on the elevator wall, either understanding Jack's strategy or just choosing not to test the man.  Smart kid, Jack thought, slipping back into the blank forward stare.

 

It wasn't that he had some kind of mindless prejudice against the Russians.  He had squared that away with Hammond years ago, back when they had accepted the unfortunate truth: Russia was and would be involved with the Stargate Program, Russia was and would be an ally - not a hindrance - when it came to U.S. Stargate operations and vice versa...  And so on and so forth.  So said the policy makers in Washington.  Fact was, the staff of the SGC would be expected to work with the Russians occasionally... and you couldn't work effectively with someone if you didn't trust them.

 

And if you didn't trust them, you had damn well have a better reason than what borders they were born behind.

 

For instance, he hadn't trusted Zukhov because he'd sensed that the man was hiding something.  So there you had it.  Perfectly legit.  Nothing personal. 

 

It wasn't personal with Kozlov or Voronin, either, and it certainly wasn't prejudice.  They just... bugged him.  A lot.  In a million different ways, namely the way they spoke Russian in public whenever possible, despite reportedly being fluent in English.  And the fact that they wore their own uniforms – ugly black and green camo - but had co-opted the distinctive arm patches designed by the Air Force for SGC team use.  And the way they complained constantly about the food in the commissary, and waxed lyrical about Mother Russia at every given opportunity - that, ironically enough, was done in English - and, well, their mere presence.

 

There were some things that Jack O'Neill had no opinion on, but the SGC - which roughly comprised his life these days - was emphatically not one of them.  Participation in the Stargate Program was not up for the highest bidder.  It was not a UN venture -- thank God.  It was not a matter of finders keepers, either.  So Russia had retrieved the Gate from the ocean a few years ago.  Swell for them.  So they'd ended up with the DHD from the Germans.  That was nice, too.  But Stargate and DHD - and of course now they didn't have either - did not a functioning program make.  As far as Jack was concerned, Russia had demonstrated its remarkable ineptitude when it came to Stargate technology on its own soil. 

 

Even after taking into account all the things that the SGC wasn't, it still remained that it was a bargaining chip... again, according to the policy makers in Washington -- and Moscow.  And the chips had been passed around the table a few times now.  As disgusted as Teal'c had been to learn his life had been saved by Adrian Conrad's Goa'uld, Jack had been equally unsettled by the fact that the 'good graces' of the Russian military were equally responsible.  Because it hadn't been grace, it had been strategy.

 

Hammond, of course, would never let Jack forget that a Russian team had been his idea, and would also never accept that he hadn't been serious.  But come on... had the General actually believed that Jack would replace Daniel with a Ruskie?

 

Kovloz was speaking quietly to Voronin now.  In Russian.  Which meant the Captain could be remarking on anything from the beauty of the Colorado weather to how much of an asshole the guy behind them was.  Jack clenched his jaw, determined not to betray the steady rise of his blood pressure.  They were trying to get a rise out of him, and he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of letting them know they were succeeding.

 

It was the longest elevator ride in SGC history.

 

The car stopped on 24 and the doors parted to admit a single individual: Major Sam Carter, no doubt also on her way to the briefing.  Kozlov and Voronin stepped aside to let her through, smiling all the way and uttering some more incomprehensible babblespeak.  As she slid between them towards the rear of the elevator she gave a slightly puzzled but nevertheless gracious smile and nod of her head.

 

"Hello," she said politely, glancing first at the Lieutenant and then the Captain.

 

"Privyet," replied Kozlov and tipping his head.  Infuriating.

 

Jack glared at Carter as the doors closed once again, and she frowned back with genuine confusion.  Because he had no special second language to use in times like this, he improvised.  "Ex-nay on the ello-hay," he told her witheringly, assuming that Carter was enough of a geek to recognize Pig Latin when she heard it.  Apparently she understood the message because her expression shifted from puzzlement to exasperation and she tried to cover up a bout of eye-rolling with a studious look at the elevator ceiling.

 

Kozlov and Voronin got off at 25, the former with a slightly perplexed look over his shoulder, but that was the limit of their interaction.  Carter held her tongue until the doors had closed and not a second longer, largely unsuccessful in trying to mask her exasperation.  "Would you rather I have been rude to them, sir?"

 

Jack shook his head, knowing from her tone exactly what she thought of his reprimand.  "Not rude," he explained.  "Just... not friendly."

 

She stared at the ceiling again.  He'd never specifically brought up the topic of the Russian team with her, but then again opportunities for chit-chat of any variety had been scarce lately.  Hammond had received the final roster from Moscow only two days before SG-1 and Fraiser had left for Antarctica, and life since had been anything but normal, even for their standards.  Carter's attitude towards the four Russians since his return from Baal's House of Fun 'N Torture, however, had left him guessing.  She was polite but distant, not rejecting them but not welcoming them with open arms either.  Logically he understood that her way - in this case - was probably the best way, a sort of wait-and-see attitude, the kind he'd successfully adopted with Jonas Quinn... but his dislike and his irritation gnawed at him.

 

"Look, sir," Carter began as the elevator stopped on 27 and they disembarked.  "I don't really like this anymore than you do."  She lowered her voice slightly as they passed a few open doors and a couple attentive airmen.  "I'm not happy with them being here.  But I just don't know what good it does to treat them... well, worse than we treat new recruits."  She spread her hands and added - tentatively - "I mean, I can't see them going to Hammond, demanding to return home because you hurt their feelings when you ignored them."

 

Jack didn't answer. He knew what Carter probably thought: that he had a lot of pent-up anger for the Goa'uld and Tok'ra - and whatever else they were calling themselves these days - as a result of his 'ordeal'.  That was what they were calling it, unofficially.  An 'ordeal', because 'incident' was too subdued and 'nightmare' too emotional.  Anyway, he had all of this rage about his 'ordeal' and he was misplacing it on the nearest target of convenience, the Russians.  Neat, tidy... throw a cigar in there and it would also be very Freudian.   Jack's experience in his own mind, however, had convinced him that it was neither neat, tidy or prone to textbook-Freudian procedure.  He wasn't about to go all repentant on a theory, either, so he gracelessly changed the subject.  "So... what can you tell me about old P..."

 

Carter didn't even pause; he had to give her that.  "P3F-787."

 

"Ah.  Sounds magical.  Desert planet, swamp planet, ice planet...?"

 

From the corner of his eye he saw her lips twitch in a repressed smirk.  "Try none of the above.  The MALP showed blue skies, rolling hills, a valley with a little village..."

 

"Ah.  So it's going to be one of those missions."

 

Confused, she glanced over at him.  "What do you mean?"

 

He stopped, knowing that the explanation would last longer than it would take them to reach the briefing room and not wanting to be overheard by the General, and turned towards Carter.  "It's just... I swear Hammond's got a folder in his desk labeled 'Nice Little Harmless Planets', and every time a team has something... dramatic happen, and he's not quite sure they're up to par, he reaches in and pulls out... well, blue skies, rolling hills.  Something not stressful and... well, boring.  Not that I don't appreciate the consideration, mind you, but I could do with a little variety now and then."  Not to mention a little more confidence in his teams.

 

Jack moved his hands around, infused his voice with plenty of mock irritation, but Carter wasn't deterred.  She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, solemnly.  "Is that what you call it?" she asked, her tone uncharacteristically brittle.  "'Something dramatic'?"

 

Well, at least it was better than 'ordeal', Jack thought, shrugging automatically.  The truth was that he didn't think about it much at all, hence the jokes and nicknames and off-the-cuff remarks that were supposed to minimize what had happened so that everyone else would relax.  When that happened, maybe he could relax, maybe he could start to think about... what had happened.  But not now, not yet.  Thinking about it now would probably drive him as crazy as everybody already thought he was.

 

Taking his shrug as an answer, Carter sighed and shook her head.  "And General Hammond doesn't think you aren't 'up to par', sir.  None of us do.  Doctor Frasier said you're fit for duty, so... you're fit for duty."

 

Jack liked to think that she could be so accepting, so trusting, but he was pretty sure that he had enough self-doubt for the both of them.  Staring momentarily at the tips of his shoes, he gave a brisk "Yeah, sure," and then looked back up.  "Come on, I want to hear about this Nice Little Harmless Planet."

 

- - -

 

"The entire village is at the bottom of a small valley. The Stargate's up on a hill enclosing that valley, and there's what appears to be a stone stairway down the side of the hill to the bottom.  Just about twenty feet.  Since the MALP wouldn't be able to navigate the stairs, we sent a UAV, and..."

 

Jonas, who'd been flipping through the report since the moment he'd received it, was ready and waiting for Sam's expectant pause.  Frowning, he looked up from the sheaf of papers.  "Nothing?"

 

"Well, not exactly nothing," Sam corrected him.  "There is the village I mentioned... about fifty large structures, buildings that look like they could be homes, barns, stores, even a town hall.  There's a main road, two large wells, gardens, fences... but no people."

 

"Maybe they were on a picnic," offered Colonel O'Neill obtusely.

 

Everyone - Sam, Jonas, Teal'c and General Hammond - looked briefly at the Colonel, and then away.  It was an appropriate comment - appropriate to be coming from him, anyway - but Sam couldn't help think that it sounded forced and somewhat flat.  His heart wasn't in it today, she realized, wondering if that had something to do with his perception that they'd been stuck with this mission because the General didn't trust him with a more risky operation.  She had to admit that P3F-787 wouldn't have been her first choice, either; she would have gone for something with more mystery, more action, more... something.  But then again, she wasn't the commander of this base, and there was a very good reason for that.  She resigned herself to trusting General Hammond's judgment.

 

"Is it not possible," wondered Teal'c, "that the inhabitants of the village were hiding inside their homes, where the UAV would not be able to detect them?"

 

Sam shook her head.  "I'm sure the thermal sensors would have detected that."

 

There was something else, something that she wasn't going to bring up because it was completely unscientific, completely unproven, and therefore not only inapplicable but also unlike her.  She'd seen the video from the UAV, studied it before putting together the report and coming to the briefing, and something about the footage had unnerved her.  Nothing specific, nothing that she could point out as an anomaly, just a vague... feeling.  And that was odd, because generally she was so caught up in facts that feelings were kept on the back burner.  Usually.  In this case, however, intuition had raised its ugly head from the moment she'd realized what she was looking at: a ghost town.  Even though the video was fuzzy and imprecise, the village seemed to have an abandoned aura about it, a look of complete desolation.  Sure, they had come across abandoned cities before, the entire gamut of ancient and not-so-ancient ruins... but none of them had ever given her a chill quite as arctic as this one.  And she hadn't even set foot on the planet yet.

 

The sound of shuffling papers brought Sam's attention back to General Hammond.  "We'll stay in radio contact as long as possible," he decided, referring to the 38 minutes that the Stargate would remain open from Earth's end.  "Be sure to check for signs of traffic between the village and the Stargate.  We can't rule out the possibility of an ambush."

 

"Yes, sir," said Colonel O'Neill, sitting forward in his chair somewhat jerkily.  "I'm sure it'll go very, very smoothly."  He glanced at Sam, and the back at Hammond.  "No problems at all."

 

She tried not to wince at the strained quality of his voice, wondering if the forced confidence was genuine or if he was treading the line again, daring Hammond to react so he could call out the General on this supposed conspiracy to coddle him. Even Teal'c was regarding the Colonel with concern now, and Jonas was obviously wondering if this was just another of O'Neill's quirks or something serious.  Hammond looked up from the report and a sudden tension settled over the table, dropping into the room like a dense fog, and Sam could almost hear the General's voice announcing that the mission was off and that SG-1 would return to stand-down until further notice...

 

But either General Hammond didn't hear the phony, almost mocking note of conviction or - more likely - he was choosing to ignore it.  "Glad to hear it," he said curtly, standing and waiting for the rest of them to follow suit.  "SG-1, your mission is on for tomorrow, 0900 hours."

 

Sam nodded and, standing with the others, waited for Hammond to retrieve the report and leave the room.  Only after the door closed behind him did she allow herself to relax... and only then did she realize how tense she had been for the last half hour.  Her shoulders were stiff, her jaw ached dully; she realized for the first time that she'd babbled somewhat during the mission briefing, and that was as unlike her as the earlier flight of fancy while watching the UAV footage.

 

This was to be SG-1's first official mission since Colonel O'Neill had been cleared for duty.  The apparent ease and speed with which that had happened had surprised everybody; Sam had still been trying to come to terms with the idea of O'Neill re-retiring when Janet had announced that the Colonel was ready and eager to resume command.  Sam had been pleased, possibly more so than anybody save Hammond... but it had been unexpected.  Baal had left no physical scars, of course; the sarcophagus had mended them.  Emotional scars were another issue altogether, and she wasn't certain that the Colonel had been entirely truthful about what the Goa'uld had put him through.  He'd mentioned the knives, the acid, the things that were evident from the tears and burns on his tunic.  But the nagging suspicion was always there, gnawing quietly on the corner of her mind, the knowledge that the Colonel could certainly have left something out without them being any the wiser.  And if they didn't know, they couldn't begin to help him, and they certainly couldn't have an accurate picture of his mental health.

 

That aside, it was still natural for them all to be a little tense, Sam reasoned.  They were still adjusting to Jonas.  They'd gotten a lot thrown at them in just the past few months, and now this.  Maybe if General Hammond was sending them on some kind of 'freebie', an easy recon mission with no foreseeable dangers, if Colonel O'Neill was right about that after all... maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.  They needed to spend time together again, needed to feel comfortable in each others' presence again, and what better way to do that than a typical mission?  No need for heroics, no need for risks, no need to worry about how the Colonel might react to... either of those.  And it would give her time to get her head on straight, something she desperately needed to do for the next time risks and heroics were called for.

 

"Major Carter?"

 

For the second time in the past ten minutes - an embarrassing statistic - General Hammond's voice brought her back into the present.  She was still standing in her place at the table, papers held loosely in her hands, but the others had left and Hammond was now leaning out of his office, holding the door open and looking quizzically at her.  When he saw he had her attention, he opened the door a little wider.  "Major... could I have a word with you?"

 

He was being unusually tentative, Sam noted, nodding promptly and circling the table.  Hammond was always polite to them, even respectful, but there was a line between courteous and hesitant and she thought he might be treading on it.  As she approached Hammond withdrew, taking a seat behind his desk and leaving her to close the door.  He might have told her to leave it open, but he didn't.  Sam took a seat opposite the General, put her hands in her lap and sat straight.

 

Hammond sighed.

 

Sam waited, silently and motionlessly trying to force down a rising wave of anxiety.  She couldn't remember the last time he had wanted to speak privately with her... maybe after her father had joined the Tok'ra, or perhaps after their capture at the hands of Hathor.  But certainly not lately.  He'd spoken to all three of them after Daniel's ascension, and naturally he would meet with Colonel O'Neill on a regular basis.  But there was nothing regular about this, and Sam had a sneaking suspicion that Hammond wasn't about to ask how her Dad was doing these days.

 

"This is about Colonel O'Neill, isn't it?"

 

She wasn't aware that she had spoken until she saw the look on Hammond's face and realized, with shock and a little shame, what it was that he was reacting to. She opened her mouth to apologize, but the General's surprise never flared into any form of anger.  He waved one hand at her magnanimously and she pressed her lips back together.

 

"Yes," said the General simply, discomfort still lingering in the room like a bad smell.  He rose from his chair and stood behind it, his hands constantly moving, belying a quantity of nervous energy that was strange for him.  "Yes, it is.  To tell you the truth, Major... I'm finding myself questioning the wisdom of letting him back into the field."

 

A strange relief fluttered through Sam, relief that she hadn't been the only one with doubts, but it was followed quickly by remorse, a hollow pain in her chest that made her sit up straighter still.  Somehow, even though Hammond's worry echoed her own, hearing some else put it to words seemed disrespectful of the Colonel.  "It's not like he hasn't been through something similar before..." she began, but midway through she heard the weakness of her voice and knew that her argument was no stronger.  Torture wasn't some virus that the human body could build up immunity to; it wouldn't be reduced to a minor annoyance after repeated exposure.  Maybe the Colonel had been able to mentally prepare himself, once he'd understood Baal's intentions, but who was to say that was enough?  Sam bit the inside of her cheek, wishing she could bite back the words.

 

Why was he telling her this?  Was he supposed to be telling her this?

 

The General seemed to see and understand, because his reply was far more sympathetic to her naïveté than it should have been.  "He was a younger man then," he said, leaving the rest to hang unspoken.  Yes, the Colonel had been younger, and his life had been a very different one back then.  He'd had a wife, a son, a family to think about, to keep him strong, to give him something to strive for. 

 

Then there was the fact that the Colonel's torture had only been the latest in a string of decidedly unpleasant events over the past few months.  He'd lost a close friend and teammate and had had a hell of a time finding someone to fill the later role.  He'd hurt his knee pretty badly, wounding his morale in the process.  Almost drowned.  Been infected with a deadly disease.  Become a host to a Tok'ra... at his second in command's urging, no less.  And then this.  His run of bad luck had been nothing short of phenomenal, and maybe it was a sign that it was time for him to hang up his combat boots and call it a career for the final time.

 

God knew she wasn't ready for that to happen.

 

But it wasn't about her, was it?

 

"Doctor Fraiser is convinced that Colonel O'Neill is physically fit for duty, and he appears to agree with her.  And I trust both of them."  Hammond sat again, seeming calmer but still far from settled.  "However, tomorrow... I'd like you to keep an eye on him, Major."

 

Sam held back the first thing that came to mind, considered it, tested it for impropriety, and finally said it aloud: "I always do, sir."  Said crispy, unblinkingly, so that he would understand that she understood what she was telling him.

 

As though he didn't already.

 

- - -

 

The first thing that Jack noticed on the other side of the wormhole - before the sights, the sounds, the smells - was the heat.  He was certain, in retrospect, that he had actually felt the warmth of the alien sun before the Stargate had completely put his body back together.  He knew that the heat wasn't dangerous - it was in the high nineties, according to the MALP, probably just a seasonably warm summer day on P3F - but emerging from the Gate was like stepping out of the freezer and into the oven.

 

The stone platform in front of the Stargate was narrow, already crowded by the DHD set off to the immediate left, and he moved quickly down to the next step to avoid a pile up at the event horizon.  Carter was next, then Jonas, then Teal'c, and while they regained their bearings Jack pulled out his sunglasses and slipped them on.

 

He hadn't expected the stairs leading down from the Stargate to be so narrow or so steep, but they were both: gray marble, no more than a foot wide and half as long, trailing down the side of the hill in a straight, neat progression.  There were no rails, no handholds, and while the grass on either side was soft, the angle was severe.  If one missed a step, they wouldn't so much roll to the valley floor as plummet.

 

"I guess these guys never heard of handicap access," Jack commented, taking the next step as the others fell in behind him.

 

Carter had the radio and was keeping an open channel, although she wasn't saying much of anything yet.  Jack's annoyance at the General's sudden need to babysit his premier team hadn't abated, but he told himself that it would... eventually, and the important thing was to watch his mouth until everything got back to normal.  It always did, and Jack didn't want a black mark on his record - or in Hammond's mind - as a legacy from the really crappy mindset he'd been in.

 

Given time, and work, that mindset would go away.  Eventually.

 

It always did.

 

As they made the downward trek in silence, Jack found himself examining the village that lay below.  It was quaint, in a rickety shack kind of way.  The heat didn't bother the local low-growing foliage - it was green and strong-looking - although from this vantage point there didn't seem to be a single tree in the area.  Either the natives had used them all up for construction lumber, or they'd transported timber from another part of the planet.  A hard-packed dirt road cut through the greenery, leading from the base of the stone steps directly into the heart of the village.  It was a kind of main street; most of the buildings were huddled around the footpath with very few outlying structures and it reminded him of something out of a western.  Like John Wayne might come strolling out to meet them any second.

 

Jack knew from Carter's briefing that some larger buildings lay at the terminus of the road, possibly barns or storage sheds judging by the additional presence of fields and gardens.  From his descending vantage point, however, he couldn't actually see the opposite end of the road.

 

Sweat was beginning to accumulate on Jack's neck by the time they reached the ground; down in the valley there was even less of a breeze than there had been in the higher elevation.  As he reached for his radio, Teal'c had already begun scouting the area for tracks.  Not much in-depth investigation was needed; even Jonas was able to see that the grass on either side had been worn away, that the dirt road had been scuffed by many pairs of shoes... and not long ago.  "Jaffa?" Jack asked, looking warily down the avenue, into the heart of the village.  Nothing moved.  Nothing breathed.

 

Teal'c shook his head in consternation.  "I believe so," he said slowly, "but this area has been well traveled.  It is difficult to tell."

 

A plain 'yes' or 'no' would have been nice, but he'd work with what he had.  Glancing briefly at Carter, he lifted the radio to his mouth.  "We're about to move into the village, sir.  So far nothing out of the ordinary.  There's been a lot of traffic through here lately, though, and Teal'c thinks some of the tracks might be Jaffa.  Maybe.  Apparently it's 'difficult to tell'."

 

"Proceed with caution, SG-1" came Hammond's voice, a completely unnecessary warning.  "If there are Jaffa, they might have come and gone, or they might still be there."

 

Well, duh.  What was this, a training exercise?  Jack paused, collected himself, and replied with a "Yes, sir," clipped and stoic enough to make even Teal'c proud.  He told himself - again - that this was just a trial phase, just a short period of doubt, something he could ride out until everyone decided he was still sane and capable and moved on to bigger, better things.  But the General's apparent lack of trust in Jack to choreograph even this simple mission bothered him.  A lot.

 

Aware that they were both out in the open and within staff weapon range of the nearest building, Jack decided that, for the time being, remaining in motion would be the best strategy.  They would do a quick sweep of the main drag, taking note of anything of interest, and come back when they were sure nothing was amiss.

 

But something had to be amiss.

 

"This is weird," Jonas mumbled, taking a few tentative steps down the road.  "Do we know for a fact that the entire population wasn't killed by some... disease, some biological agent?"

 

Carter tensed slightly, almost involuntarily, but her answer was ready.  "That wouldn't account for a complete lack of people.  If it was some kind of fast-acting plague, well, there'd be signs.  Filth in the streets... bodies in the streets.  Signs of looting."

 

But there were no such signs.  As the team drew closer, Jack could see that the streets were almost unnaturally clean - no trash, no errant debris.  Doors were closed.  Glass windows framed by ruffled curtains had been pulled shut.  Something virulent and deadly usually brought a measure of chaotic panic with it, but this place was neat, orderly.

 

"We can't rule out the possibility that the people from this planet were forcibly taken," Carter added, although she sounded doubtful of her own hypothesis.  If Jaffa had been through here, rounding up the locals for use as slaves or hosts, where were those signs?  Again, where was the chaos?  Since when did a Goa'uld raid a planet and then clean up after himself?

 

They started to move down the main road, keeping to the edges, wary of open windows, listening carefully for sounds of life within the buildings.  Jack and Teal'c took one side of the street, Carter and Jonas the other, although occasionally two would cross over so that Jack found himself paired with the Major and then Jonas for a few minutes. Their progress was methodical and nearly silent: they would approach a building, check for obvious signs of habitation, and then open the front door, leaning in for a quick look.  Although the majority of the doors were closed none of the buildings were actually locked or barred against intruders.

 

Jack soon realized that almost all of the buildings at this end of the road were what they appeared to be: homes.  All had similar floor plans; the front door opened onto a sitting room and a kitchen with a small fireplace, both dark and shadowed but somehow cozy.  When Jack and Teal'c took an extra moment to explore the entirety of the fifth house down, they discovered a short, narrow hallway leading to three cramped bedrooms in the back.

 

There were beds, neatly made.

 

There were desks, stacked with neat sheaves of paper covered in unintelligible script.

 

There were closets, and clothes - tunics and pants and skirts in neutral colors - hung in tidy rows from wooden pegs.  Only a few of the pegs were empty.

 

Jack paused in the second bedroom, listening to the house quietly settling, listening to Teal'c's soft footsteps in the front of the house.  He reached into the closet, his fingers closing around a pair of doe-brown pants and pulling them off their peg.  He held them up by the waistband, confirming what he'd suspected: child's clothing.  Maybe a little boy's.  As late as two days ago local time, some little boy had made his bed, cleaned up his desk and checked to make sure his clothes were hanging neatly, and then... then what?  He'd left the room, the house, the village... so why hadn't he come back?

 

- - -

 

Sam had Jonas Quinn stand just inside the doorway while she checked the seventh building.  It wasn't that she didn't trust him to provide backup... just not competent backup.  The Colonel had finally relented and given Jonas a Zat gun for missions, and he had received the mandatory training using both the Zat and conventional firearms, however...

 

Well, if things got nasty, she didn't want him getting hurt.  Or in the way.  Right.

 

This house, however, was just as empty as the last six on her side of the street.  Empty front rooms, empty bedrooms, and empty everything between.  Oh, it was still populated by things, of course: there were clothes in the bedrooms, pots and pans in the kitchen, decorative rugs on the hardwood floors.  But as for the people who had presumably worn those clothes, cooked in those pots, walked on those rugs... not a sign.  No bodies, alive or otherwise.  No blood.  No indications of violence.

 

Sam motioned for Jonas to follow her in.

 

He entered cautiously, although not as much now as during the first few checks.  She watched as his eyes darted over the darkened family area, the kitchen nook and the fireplace with its shadowy hearth.  "Still nothing?" he asked worriedly, as though expecting that she would reveal some grisly, gruesome discovery in the back room.

 

"Nothing," she confirmed.

 

They stepped back into the oppressive sunlight, and moved on to the next building.

 

- - -

 

The sun rose in the sky, and the temperature climbed.  There was a complete lack of a breeze in the valley, and the air felt thick.  Again Jack wondered if the village's abandonment wasn't as sinister as it looked.  Scratch the picnic idea; maybe they'd just taken a field trip to the local watering hole to splash around and soak up the rays.

 

But that felt wrong.  Something had happened here, he just wasn't sure what.

 

Finally he stopped counting the houses, and although his searches were no less thorough, he finally sent Teal'c on ahead to the next building in order to speed up the process.  He motioned to Carter that she should keep Jonas with her, however; 'better safe than sorry' was one of the few cliches that Jack not only tolerated but loved, cherished, lived by.  Jonas was... observant, Jack had to give him that, but exactly what he observed didn't necessarily follow any tenet of military procedure.

 

As Teal'c disappeared into the home next door, Jack peered in through the windows of his building, scanning for signs of movement or anything out of the ordinary from all the prior houses.  Nothing jumped out or stirred in the slightest: there were only shadows and the furniture that cast them.

 

Jack moved to the door and pushed it open.  Waited to see if there was anyone inside who was going to take a shot at him, decided against it, and then stepped over the threshold.

 

Darkness and the now-familiar floor plan greeted him.  Jack blinked, taking a second to let his eyes readjust to the reduced light.  Most of the sunshine in the house came through the front window.  There were others - in the kitchen, sitting room, and in each of the bedrooms - but heavy canvas shades had been pulled over each of them.  In every house so far, the doors to the bedrooms had been left standing open, but even so only a thin trickle of light had managed to find its way into the connecting hallway--

 

Jack leaned down that hallway, and stopped.

 

Three bedrooms, three doors.  Two were open, but the one in the middle had been closed.

 

Probably nothing.  Probably just a coincidence.  Over on Carter's side of the street, maybe most of the bedroom doors had been closed.  It was just a kid's room.  Coincidence.

 

Still...

 

Standing to the side, Jack pushed open the bedroom door as he had opened the first.  He paused in the hallway for a minute, listening, waiting, and then peered inside the small room.  The closet, the bed, the desk... he stepped through the doorway -- and that small act seemed to ignite a flurry of motion.

 

Something had been crouched down beside the desk, hiding in the shadows and every bit as still as one of them, but suddenly it sprang up as though startled, and a second dark shape fell towards Jack.  It was a stout shape - five feet tall and maybe a foot square - that had been propped up against the wall, and either the surprised creature had knocked it over accidentally... or it had pushed the thing at him as a diversion.

 

The beam - because that was what it felt like: rough, solid - was heavy, but it hadn't come at him with enough force to do damage.  Jack was able to catch the thing in his hands and push it aside, letting it continue its fall into a different part of the room, and it hit the ground with a substantial thump.  He ignored it, focusing on the other shape, the one that had moved first, the one he was sure was alive.

 

Although it seemed as though the beam had been used as a diversionary tactic, the creature didn't seem to be in a hurry to get away.  Hunched over in the corner of the room, it flailed and flustered, pressed itself further against the wall, and finally gave a fearful squeak.  "Don't touch me!"

 

Jack, bringing his P90 up to bear, faltered momentarily.

 

The thing was human?

 

He'd attributed some cleverness to it, but certainly his first impression had been that the creature had been just that: a creature, not human.  It certainly hadn't moved as one.  It still wasn't.

 

"Don't touch me!" it said again, louder.  Male.

 

Jack reached across the room and yanked the canvas away from the window, never taking his eyes off the figure in the corner.  Bright, heavy afternoon light immediately filled the room, but the dark shape was not miraculously transformed into a man.

 

It was a man, of course... human, or at least humanoid... about as human as Jonas was, in any case.  Yet Jack's second impression was that he was looking at some bizarre hybrid between a man and a rodent.  The... person was dressed all in brown, varying shades but definitely all in the brown family: tan pants, a dark shirt, and a black-brown overcoat that covered up the majority of his wardrobe.  And the color coordination didn't stop there.  His mangled hair was a mousy brown, his prickly beard a matching shade, and his eyes - wide, terrified, unintelligent - were the color of mud.  A hairy little muskrat dressed in his Sunday best, thought Jack, taking a step back.

 

The Muskrat had been holding his hands out, but now he tucked them in against his chest, under the coat.

 

"Don't touch me!"  It was almost a scream this time, as though Jack were moving closer instead of further away.

 

- - -

 

Stepping back out onto the hot road, Sam heard a voice.  She couldn't make out words, but it was distinctly a voice, and not the Colonel's or Teal'c's.  A strange man's voice, raised in terror, which in turn raised the hair on the back of her neck.  Literally.

 

Jonas, directly behind her, stopped in the doorway.  "Sam..." he began, as though unsure as to what the sound had been.  But she didn't answer; across the street, she'd seen Teal'c dash out of one house and into another, and it was towards that second building she ran.

 

- - -

 

Jack heard heavy footsteps in the front of the house and he tensed, wondering if the Muskrat had called reinforcements, but a quick glance down the hallway showed that it was only Teal'c, looking fierce, and behind him Carter and Jonas.  They looked more worried than fierce, but he would take it.

 

Not that he felt threatened by the man in front of him.  He was short - even standing straight Jack doubted he would clear five-six - and small in stature, and while he had quite a set of lungs on him he didn't see liable to attack.  Fear was standing out clearly in his otherwise bleary eyes, and while fear could make some people do rash and stupid things this person seemed content to cower and shriek.

 

Teal'c abruptly filled the doorway, barely able to fit into the room, and Carter hovered just behind him.  The brown man saw them and backed away, crashing into the desk but not seeming to feel the impact.  "Stay away!" he howled, the pitch of his voice so high that Jack half expected the windowpane to crack and shatter.

 

Deciding that the Muskrat didn't pose any huge threat - and that this had gone on long enough - Jack relaxed his hold on his weapon, bringing up his hands in a universal 'we come in peace' gesture.  "Calm down," he said as nicely as was possible.  "We're not going to hurt you."

 

Still hunched over, the Muskrat glared at him.  "Don't touch me," he said again, although he was no longer shouting.

 

"Believe me, I have no desire to," said Jack truthfully, motioning for Teal'c to step back, hopefully without trampling Carter.  "Now why don't you come out of there and..."

 

"We just want to talk to you," came Jonas' voice from somewhere in the hallway.

 

Fear slowly hardening into suspicion and a little resentment, the man's brown eyes darted around the room with rodent quickness.  "Just talking, no touching," he said sharply.

 

"You have my word," Jack swore, wondering if the Muskrat was self-aware enough to detect the sarcasm.

 

Slowly he backed down the hallway, Teal'c, Carter and Jonas following his lead, spilling out into the sitting room.  The Major immediately began rolling the shades off the windows and pushing the curtains aside in both that room and the kitchen, brightening the area considerably.

 

Still wrapped in his long coat, hands hidden, neck pulled down, the Muskrat slunk down the hall after them, his beady eyes focused primarily on Jack.  He blinked and stalled when he encountered the sunlight, squinted, and then stepped reluctantly into the front of the house.

 

Jonas took that moment to step forward, sending one of those damned hopeful, questioning looks Jack's way.  A part of Jack rebelled against letting Jonas do the 'first contact thing', wary as he was of letting Quinn pick up too much of Daniel's mantle, but... the guy had kind of proved himself, in Antarctica, with the ice woman.  He was an able communicator at the very least, and if he actually wanted to talk to the Muskrat... well, that made exactly one of them.  "Go for it," Jack said with the utmost graciousness, waving a hand towards the brown man.  "Knock yourself out."

 

"Hopefully not," answered Jonas, sounding puzzled.  Ignoring Jack's pained look he stepped forward, startling the Muskrat who took a half-step back towards the hallway.  Jonas immediately held up his hands in a placating gesture, his voice low and soft as though he was indeed trying to talk down a dangerous animal.  "It's okay.  We're not going to hurt you.  We just want to find out more about you: who you are, how you got here."

 

A spark of interest flickered in the brown man's eyes, driving away the paranoid fear for a moment.  "This is my house," he said defensively.

 

"It is?" asked Jonas, and he sounded as surprised as Jack felt.  It didn't seem common - or likely - for a man to be hiding in a back bedroom of his own house.  A vagrant or squatter, or a survivor of some horrible event, yes.  Homeowner, no.  Nevertheless the Muskrat nodded vehemently, and Jonas moved on.  "Well, that's good to know."  He glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the team, perhaps realizing for the first time that he had an attentive audience.  Clearing his throat, he looked back at the man.  "My name's Jonas Quinn.  This is Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, and Teal'c," he added, gesturing to each of them in turn, although the man in brown never looked away from Jack.  "Can you tell us who you are?"

 

The person in question looked sharply at Jonas, indignant.  "Of course I can.  Dagin.  Dagin Lor.  That's my name."

 

That was enough for now.  Jack pulled Jonas back with a brush of his hand, reassuming control of the conversation now that the Muskrat - Dagin - seemed slightly calmer and more intelligible.  "So, Dagin... what can you tell us about what happened here?"

 

Immediately the man seemed to tense, and although his shoulders had still been pulled down, now he hunched even more dramatically as though to ward off an imaginary blow.  The fear resurfaced in his face, and his lips quivered beneath the beard.  "I saw them," he sputtered.  "I saw them being killed... taken away, but so many killed..."

 

Jack felt a twinge in his stomach, and in his mind's eye he saw the mythical little boy with the neat room and the doe-brown pants.  His subconscious had unwillingly conjured up an image of what that boy might look like, and now he saw the kid running, screaming, falling, pursued by...

 

"Who came?" he asked sharply.

 

Dagin blinked.  "What?"

 

"Who did you see?" Jack demanded.  "Were they Jaffa?"  Realizing that might be a foreign word to the man, he added, "Were they wearing lots of chain metal, helmets, carrying staff weapons... did they have symbols on their forehead, like Teal'c?"  He sent an apologetic look in Teal'c's direction.

 

Dagin eyed Teal'c for a long moment, and then nodded.  "A symbol, although not that one," he agreed.  "You say they're called Jaffa?"

 

"That's right.  And you say they killed some of the people here, and took the rest... through the Stargate?"

 

The Muskrat's eyes slid out of focus.  "I saw them," he mumbled.  "The women, children... they all went up the stairs and into the gateway..."

 

Sympathetic silence settled over the group for the moment, and Jack tried to forget about the screaming boy by focusing on the feel of sweat droplets gliding down his back.  It was Carter who first broke the hush, stepping in between Jack and Jonas, her voice sober but strong.  "Why didn't they take you?"

 

Dagin Lor looked up, and again - in a small and desolate voice - asked, "What?"

 

"Why didn't you go with them?"

 

Almost doubling over now, wrapping his arms around himself, the man whimpered, babbled.  "They wouldn't let me.  I wanted to go, I didn't want to stay, but they wouldn't let me.  They made me stay, I had to stay, and it's been so frightening... I keep seeing them, even though they're not here, I keep seeing them, and they wouldn't let me go.  They wouldn't let me go.  They wouldn't let me go!"

 

- - -

 

The unspoken consensus was that the top priority was to get this Dagin Lor back to the SGC.  He not only looked unkempt; upon closer inspection, he appeared unhealthy, as though he hadn't eaten or bathed or even slept in days.  He also seemed emotionally unstable to the extreme; even though he agreed to go home with SG-1, he would still scream out, at intermittent intervals, his desire not to be touched.

 

There was still the rest of the village to be checked, however, and Colonel O'Neill didn't look pleased at letting this now mundane task go uncompleted.  Sam thought she understood; he didn't want to do any less than his absolute best, or give anything less than 110%.  He didn't want to give Hammond any possible reason to see him 'not up to par'.

 

"Teal'c and I can finish up here, sir," she offered as soon as the first sign of indecision flickered across his face.  "You and Jonas get Dagin to the infirmary, and we'll catch up."

 

If he noticed that she was all but giving him orders, he said nothing.  He merely glanced at the man in question, who was sitting on a chair in the kitchen - his kitchen, if he was to be believed - rocking back and forth with his head in his hands.  Teal'c and Jonas were keeping watch/standing guard... although not too close, of course.  "I don't know," said the Colonel after a moment.  "Now we know for sure that there were Jaffa here.  Maybe there still are.  I don't like the idea--"

 

"Sir," she interrupted firmly, well aware that she was treading on increasingly thin ice.  "We'll be fine."

 

The hesitancy - and, Sam realized in hindsight, the vulnerability - abruptly left his face, and he gave her a hard look.  "What did Hammond say to you?"

 

The word "What?" slipped out before Sam realized how much she sounded like Dagin Lor, and she bit down on her tongue.

 

The Colonel rolled his eyes to the ceiling and looked back at her almost reluctantly.  "I was waiting for you," he said, grudgingly, "after the briefing."

 

So he'd seen the General call her into his office, and he'd made the all-too-accurate assumption that their short chat had been about him.  Well there was no reason to tell him otherwise, no reason to lie, as long as she left out a few choice details.  "He wanted me to keep an eye on you.  I said I would.  That's all."  Not a lie, exactly, just a half-truth, and for his own good.

 

"Keep an eye on me?"  He scowled.  "You know, it might not actually say Colonel on my uniform, but that doesn't change the fact that I am.  I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on you guys."

 

"We watch out for each other," Sam retorted, feeling bold.  Or, perhaps, it was the stifling heat.  "It was just a reminder, sir.  An unnecessary one.  The General's just... a little concerned about all of us."

 

The Colonel looked ready to disagree with that, but something else caught his attention.  "Is he still on the radio?"

 

Sam shook her head.  "No sir.  He signed off right before the Gate closed on its own.  Of course, that was right before..."  She indicated Dagin, still wrapped up in his own misery.

 

"So it would have been about the time I was playing Dodge the Musk--"  He broke off, shaking his head, still looking perturbed at having missed the message.  That unfamiliar look of uncertainty fluttered back over his expression, and he sighed.  "Fine, Carter.  You win this one.  But don't expect to make a habit out of it."

 

Trying not to let him see how pleased she was - and failing - Sam nodded.  "It won't take long, sir."

 

"It better not," he murmured, breaking away from their meeting place in the family room and striding towards the others.  "Jonas and I'll check in before we go through," he said more loudly.  "You find anything out of the ordinary, you tell me right away.  And... be careful."

 

Resisting the urge to tell him how much he sounded like General Hammond, Sam merely nodded again.  "Yes sir.  Come on, Teal'c," she added, motioning to him.  "We're going to finish up the sweep."

 

Teal'c said nothing, inclining his head in acknowledgment, and Sam followed him through the open doorway.  The heat outside was worse than ever - maybe it got this warm in Texas or Arizona, but not in the Colorado weather she had acclimated to - but there was a strange relief in getting away from Dagin Lor.

 

- - -

 

Even though they had checked the first four-fifths of the village, Jack didn't feel comfortable simply strolling down the middle of the road back to the Stargate.  Dagin's harried voice - "I saw them being killed... taken away, but so many killed..." - had left him edgy and uncomfortable about the possibility of lingering Jaffa, and so he led Dagin and Jonas down one of the side yards between the houses.  They emerged on the perimeter of the village, where the grassy hill slopped down to form the valley.  It would take a little longer to reach the Stargate this way, but if Jack was honest with himself he knew was stalling, hoping that Carter and Teal'c would finish with their check and eventually meet up with the rest of the team at the Gate.  He just felt uneasy about leaving the two of them on their own on this suddenly not Nice Little Harmless Planet.

 

A few times during the walk Jonas tried to engage Dagin in conversation, but the Muskrat would have none of it.  He seemed preoccupied with Jack, staring at him with eyes that would seem rheumy one moment and eagle-sharp the next.  Jack pretended to ignore the other man's attention as he ignored the Russians on base: determinedly, resolutely, but not completely.  Every once in a while he would give the brown man a quick glance, and every time he found himself surprised anew by the man's appearance.  He'd seen plenty of survivors, before, plenty of refugees, but this person... well, he didn't seem sane.  Not insane in the power-hungry Goa'uld way, or even in the power-hungry Jonas Hanson way... just plain old nuts.

 

Too quickly - although without incident - the three men arrived at the end of the main road, at the foot of the stairs that led up to the Stargate but looked as though they might also continue on to heaven.  Dagin examined the marble steps warily, as though unconvinced that they were structurally sound, but didn't seem overwhelmingly awed by the Stargate itself.  "I saw them," he said again, not speaking to either Jack or Jonas, speaking to himself, his voice a harsh rasp.

 

Despite himself, Jack felt a kernel of emotion emerge, a sensation he'd never felt towards the Russian team.  Sympathy.  Sympathy for this sad, strange little man.

 

Jonas went up first, as the steps were only wide enough for one, and Jack motioned for Dagin to follow him.  Narrowing his eyes, all but snarling, the brown man did so and Jack fell in behind him.  Dagin looked back over his shoulder so many times during the ascent that Jack expected him to trip on his coat or lose his balance and go careening down the hillside, but he didn't.

 

Once more on the topmost platform, the three stood to the side and Jonas dialed the Gate while Jack pulled out his radio.  "Carter, Teal'c, come in," he intoned, his words punctuated by sound of chevrons locking into place.

 

Silence greeted him, as heavy and intolerable as the escalating temperature.

 

Jonas paused before pressing in the center crystal and Jack waved at him impatiently to finish, making sure Dagin hadn't strayed into the vaporizing zone while bringing the radio to his mouth again.  "Teal'c, Carter, report."

 

Nothing.

 

The Stargate engaged, whooshed, puddled.  Another glance at the Muskrat showed that he was still more interested in his own thoughts than the alien technological marvel about three inches away from his nose.

 

Several lights on the MALP began to glow, and Jack knew Hammond was probably monitoring their radio traffic.  His stomach tightened, and peripherally he saw Jonas frown worriedly while punching in the GDO code.  Dagin had noticed the view of his village and was glowering at it.  Jack followed his gaze, wondering how long it would take him to get to the far end of the road where the Major and Teal'c likely were...

 

But at that moment the radio came to life, spitting static briefly before resolving into his second in command's slightly winded voice.  "Sorry, sir, we're here."

 

"What happened?"

 

"Ah..."  Even over the radio she sounded embarrassed.  "I thought I heard somebody in the well, sir, and we were checking it out.  But it was just an animal."

 

"Nothing that's going to be following you home, I hope."

 

He thought he heard her chuckle.  "No sir, it's still down there."

 

Jack nodded, even though she couldn't see him, and that reminded him of the people who were still there to see him.  Closing the channel momentarily, he nodded at the GDO in Jonas' hand.  "You put in the right code?" he asked, purposely trying to sound rude and judgmental.  Jack had agreed with Hammond about giving the guy his own transmitter - it made tactical sense - but it was still his butt on the line if the iris hadn't opened.

 

"Yes, Colonel."  Jonas, as always, was guileless, although Jack had a sneaking - albeit unfounded - suspicion that Jonas was taking offense at times like these and was filing away every affront to be repaid in some ultimate revenge.

 

"Well..."  Jack nodded to Dagin Lor, who was now grimacing at the Stargate and muttering under his breath.  "Take him through, turn him over to Fraiser.  Let Hammond know I'll be following you in a few."

 

To his credit, Jonas was starting to get the hang of the whole 'orders' thing; even though he obviously wanted to respond he didn't, instead gesturing for Dagin to precede him through the wormhole.  The brown man didn't protest; he stepped into the event horizon as though it was the most natural thing in the world.  Jack had more than a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Dagin Lor had not only seen the Gate in action but perhaps had used it before... and even understood how it worked.

 

Which was stupid, because this guy was obviously more than a little loony.

 

Then again, hadn't some said the same thing about Carter?

 

It was worth considering.

 

Reluctantly Jonas followed Dagin, leaving Jack alone on the platform next to the gently rippling Stargate.  It was quiet.  Hot.  Lonely.  He thought he could see Carter and Teal'c moving down the road, and initially he had planned on waiting for them, but suddenly it occurred to him that he was doing the same thing he had been so exasperated about Hammond doing.  He was coddling his teammates when it wasn't necessary, for no good reason, and even though Jack knew he was only doing it because he cared, he also knew the two of them wouldn't see it that way.  They'd see it as, well, coddling.  Him insinuating that they weren't 'up to par'.

 

Either that, or they'd attribute his sudden clinginess to his 'ordeal', and by God if he heard that word one more time, if he even thought it...

 

He raised his radio again, but Carter beat him to the punch.  "Sir, it's going to take us a good ten minutes, why don't you just..."

 

She trailed off, leaving the channel open, letting him 'interrupt' her.

 

"Right," he 'interrupted'.  And because he couldn't think of anything better: "See you later."

 

Hoping again that Jonas was as good at remembering codes as he was at observing obscure and trivial details, Jack stepped into the Stargate and let it whisk him out of the hot sun and back into the cool underground bunker.

 

 

- Two -

 

"It is by no means certain that our individual personality is the single inhabitant

of these our corporeal frames... We all do things both awake and asleep which surprise us.

Perhaps we have co-tenants in this house we live in."

- Oliver Wendell Holmes

 

"Don't touch me don't touch me don't touch me!"

 

Jack sighed, taking in the alarmed expressions of the airmen around him as he approached the infirmary.  He'd heard the high-pitched squeals himself before even stepping out of the elevator, and they only got louder as he approached.  Obviously Dagin had been sent ahead to the infirmary as soon as he and Jonas had come through, but Jack had hoped that Fraiser would have had the crazed little man tied down and drugged into blissful silence by this point.

 

Sharing a commiserating glance with Sergeant Siler - standing stock-still in the middle of the hallway, looking over his shoulder at the infirmary as though expecting some horrific monster to emerge from it - Jack wondered if coming here in the first place had been such a good idea.  Dagin wasn't his responsibility any longer, and it wasn't as though he even liked the guy enough to check in on him.  He supposed he was just killing time; Hammond wouldn't be officially debriefing SG-1 until Carter and Teal'c returned from the planet, which was supposed to happen any moment now.

 

Entering the infirmary, Jack was greeted with a quasi-familiar sight: Dagin, now stripped of his overcoat, was huddled in the far corner near one of the EKG machines, hunched down and scowling furiously at Fraiser and two of her befuddled nurses.  He looked every bit as wild and deranged in the harsh artificial lighting as he had in the diffused sunshine and shadows.

 

"Doc?"  Jack casually sidled up to Fraiser, pushing his hands into his pockets.  "Do we need to get security in here?"

 

"I really don't think that's necessary, sir," Fraiser replied, her eyes on Dagin, her voice calm and controlled.  "He seems to become more agitated whenever somebody enters the room."

 

The hint was hardly subtle, but Jack ignored it.  In response to his silence the doctor finally tore her eyes away from her would-be patient - who was now hissing at the nurses like a threatened cockroach - and looked up at him.  "Jonas said he was like this on the planet."

 

"Yeah," Jack confirmed, realizing that her statement had also been partly a question.  "I guess..."  He lowered his voice slightly, "I guess we should cut him some slack.  From what we can figure his entire village was rounded up by Jaffa, and either killed or taken through the Gate to God Knows Where.  He saw it all, and he's probably the only survivor."

 

Fraiser nodded thoughtfully.  "He hasn't been violent, exactly, just backed himself into that corner.  I'd planned on sedating him, but now I'm wondering if it'd do more harm than good.  He could very easily start seeing us as the bad guys, and if he's having post-traumatic stress symptoms now..."

 

She trailed off and abruptly moved away from Jack, towards the phone on the back wall.  He let her go, vaguely heard her placing a call to the General, but the mention of PTSD made the sterile infirmary feel a little colder than usual.  No one had brought it up yet - to him, about him - but he'd consciously been waiting for that shoe to drop.  He'd even composed a little speech in his head, a litany of non-symptoms: "No, I haven't had nightmares or flashbacks, I've been sleeping fine, no depression, haven't been more irritable than usual, haven't chopped off anybody's head, and when Jake came to visit Carter last week I didn't fly off the handle at him because he's a Tok'ra and therefore reminded me of Kanan."

 

Sometimes he was worried merely by how easily he could rattle off that list.

 

Paranoid.  He was being paranoid.

 

Fraiser returned from the phone.  "I just spoke to General Hammond.  He agreed that it may be best to put Dagin in an isolation room for the time being.  Normally I wouldn't suggest that to someone who's just seen his entire community wiped out, but as worried as he seems to be about people touching him... it'll at least give him some time to calm down."

 

Jack nodded, trying to blink away the likely-glazed expression on his face before the good doctor could notice.  "Well, I'd love to stay and help, but I've got a briefing to get to as soon as Carter and Teal'c make it back.  Sure you don't think some security is a good idea?"

 

Fraiser looked at him wryly.  "I'll call ahead and have the SF's clear the corridors between here and there, just in case, but I have a feeling once we tell him where we're taking him and why... it'll be like chasing a rat through a maze."

 

Jack smiled as he left.  Totalitarian power monger or not, his and Fraiser's thinking could be eerily similar at times.

 

He'd just stepped into the elevator when it happened for the first time.

 

- - -

 

Running.  He was running.

 

He was still in the empty elevator, a very closed, confined space, but still he was running.  He could feel the ground under his feet, feel his legs pumping, his arms close to his sides, could feel a burning pain in his side caused by exertion and lack of oxygen...

 

But at the same time, he could also feel the floor of the elevator beneath his boots.  Solid.  He could even feel the motion of the car as it slowly lowered him further into the bowels of the mountain.

 

When he blinked, all he could see were the elevator walls.  They remained at a constant distance, not drawing closer, as they would have if he'd been moving towards them, much less running towards them.

 

But he was still running.

 

His stomach lurched, and it wasn't just the motion of the car.

 

Neither was it the motion of a man running full-tilt, almost in a panic.

 

It was the motion of both, because he was feeling both, simultaneously.

 

Jack stumbled forward and hit the stop button on the elevator, then fell with a decided lack of grace against the back wall.  Stupid, maybe; maybe he should have aimed for the infirmary instead, maybe he should want those doors to open as soon as possible, but he didn't.  He didn't.  He was out of control, completely, utterly, felt like he was losing his mind, felt like he was going to scream - and he wasn't the screaming kind - and he didn't want anybody to see him like this.  Not Fraiser.  Not nobody.

 

He closed his eyes and tried to breathe.

 

The other him - the running him - tried to breathe too.

 

Something changed, very subtly, but it changed.  Previously he'd been running on an even surface, but not any longer.  Now his legs strained even more, muscles burning along with his lungs.  Stairs.  He was running up stairs.  There was a terrible, critical urgency to his pace, evident not only by how hard he ran but also by tension and anxiety and very real fear, not the fear of insanity from Jack In The Elevator, but a fear leaking through from this other him, this other person, this very real fear of being killed.

 

And then --

 

Oh God.

 

-- Pain blossoming in his back and moving through him like a poison: fast, lethal, and without mercy.  Familiar pain.  Crippling pain.  He stopped running, he fell, the stairs, unseen, rose up to meet him, metal connected with flesh and bone and teeth and it hurt like hell, and that hurt was just enough to shock him out of the initial pain.  He forced himself up, face tilted sightlessly towards whatever was at the top of the stairs, but before he could move towards that goal the pain came again...

 

But then it was gone.

 

Not because it was over.

 

Because he was dead.  The other him had just been killed.

 

He knew.  He knew what dying felt like and he knew it all too well.

 

At some point during all this he had opened his eyes, as though to reassure himself of this reality: a place where no one was after him, a place where he was relatively safe, a place where he was alive.  Now, wildly disoriented, more than a little sick, and scared out of his mind by what he had just seen/felt, Jack closed them again.

 

When he opened them next, he was standing in the briefing room.

 

- - -

 

Alone.  He was blessedly alone.  The room was empty and Hammond wasn't in his office.

 

Jack waited for the sensation of having two bodies to return, but it didn't.  He moved slowly towards the nearest chair and sank into it, leaning over, trying not to throw up.  Of course, considering he had no memory of moving from the elevator to this room he could already have thrown up several times... but judging by the lack of nastiness in his mouth, he somehow doubted it.

 

He wondered who might have seen him.

 

He looked at his watch... and caught his breath when he saw the time.  By his reckoning, almost fifteen minutes had passed since he had first stepped into the elevator.  He remembered a portion of that, of course - wished he didn't, but he did - but most of that time was... gone.  Just... gone.

 

Jack sat up, sat back in the chair, and told himself that he should be used to weird time anomalies and subspace stuff by now, not because he actually understood it - because he really didn't care to; that was what Carter was for - but because junk like that was painfully close to commonplace these days.  Reality, his reality, was not now what it had been six years ago.  Time and space, even if he didn't understand how or why, were immeasurably different now... for him, for everyone who had seen what he had seen.  'Normal' had been stretched past its limits.  'Strange' was just another way of saying 'different' now.

 

Oh, this was different.

 

And the hard truth was that... he was pretty sure this didn't have anything to do with weird time anomalies and subspace stuff.  He was pretty sure it had a lot more to do with The Misadventures of Kanan the Tok'ra and his Lowly Host, Jack.

 

He didn't want to think about it.  He nearly refused to think about it.  But it had to be done.  He'd been in the infirmary, listening to Fraiser prattle on about post-traumatic stress disorder as it pertained to Dagin Lor's behavior.  And Jack had freaked, a little.  Mild freakage, but maybe it had been enough.

 

Then he'd gone into the elevator.  A little box, all by himself.  Walls surrounding him.  No immediate escape.  That sounded... familiar.  He hadn't thought about it before this, hadn't even pondered the prospect of claustrophobia because it seemed so childish and, well, trivial, but maybe being in that enclosed space had been enough to trigger memories... flashbacks... of Baal's planet.

 

Capture.  Torture.  Running.  And yes, there had been stairs in the Goa'uld's fortress, and he had run up some of them.

 

And he had died on that planet.  Repeatedly.

 

He'd jinxed himself just by thinking about it.  Psyched himself into a mental condition.  Jesus, and Hammond had actually trusted him to lead a mission offworld, to have Carter and Teal'c and Jonas relying on him in a completely unpredictable situation where anything could have happened, and what if this... seizure had come over him then?  They would all have gotten killed, that was what, and it would have been because of him.

 

Unless he was wrong.  Unless there was something else at work here.  If reality wasn't really reality where Stargate travel was concerned, why immediately jump to the most obvious and mundane of all possible conclusions?  Anything could be going on here, up to and including him having a mental breakdown, but there was no reason he shouldn't explore the other options... for his own good.  Slowly he pushed himself out of the chair, still anticipating the next attack, and slowly he stepped towards the window, trying to look beyond the walls, give himself a sense of space.

 

The Stargate looked back at him, meanly.

 

The Stargate.  P3F... whatever it was.  There'd been stairs there, a whole lot of them.  He hadn't exactly bounded up them, but...

 

Jack felt his brain spasm, actually spasm, like a wormhole doing the jumping thing from one Gate to another.

 

Carter and Teal'c.  They were still on the planet.  What if what had happened to him in the elevator... what if that had been some kind of premonition - not that he believed in ESP or second sight, exactly, but if he believed in aliens and space ships and time loops why not that, too - some kind of vision of something that was going to happen to Teal'c and the Major.  Or something that was happening now.

 

He turned away from the window abruptly, seized by the need to tell someone even if he came out looking like an ass, but then he found himself staring at his watch again.  Fifteen minutes had passed, he reminded himself, and there was no way that Carter and Teal'c could have taken that long to get back to the Gate... even if they had stopped to smell the proverbial roses, which they wouldn't do.  They knew that everyone expected them back within minutes of Jack and Jonas, and if they found something worthy of further exploration they would have dialed up the Stargate and notified Hammond before doing anything.  Jack knew had trained them that well, at least.

 

He also knew, with a feeling like a lead balloon inflating inside his stomach, that if the two missing members of his team were still on that planet, they were dead.

 

He didn't bother going straight to the control room for the answer; he pounced on the first airman he saw outside the briefing room door, a young man named Rios with dark hair and close-growing eyebrows.  "Is SG-1 back yet?" he heard himself bark.

 

Rios started and snapped to attention, obviously confused by the question, and Jack's mind caught up with his mouth a second later.  "Are Carter and Teal'c back?" he restated.

 

"I don't know, sir... I don't think so," Rios blurted.

 

The lead balloon popped into a flurry of shrapnel.

 

He was moving again, not in a dream or a vision this time but for real, clattering down the stairs into the control room, trying to compose himself, trying to prepare himself for seeing the two remaining members of the team, his team, dead, trying to make it all go away but knowing it never would unless he did it himself, like he had almost done...

 

Through drastically tunneled vision he saw Hammond, and dashed in his direction... coming within an inch of colliding solidly with someone standing in the way.

 

"Colonel?" asked the person, and the blackness receded from the fringes of his eyes.

 

Carter.

 

And standing next to her, Teal'c.

 

And looking confused by Jack's breathless appearance, Hammond.

 

Rios was just an idiot.  They were back.  They were okay.  Thank God.

 

- - -

 

Sitting across the table from the Colonel, Sam did what she could to scrutinize him without letting him - or anyone else for that matter - become aware that she was giving him any more attention than usual.  For the most part that meant casual sweeping glances that encompassed everyone, short millisecond peeks out of the corner of her eye, and being extra mindful of him when he spoke.

 

There didn't seem to be anything unusual going on; he didn't seem more preoccupied then usual, he didn't snap at anyone, and outwardly he appeared to be in better spirits now than he'd been during the pre-mission briefing.  His observations about Dagin Lor were full of familiar wry wit, he painted a perfectly accurate picture of P3F-787 itself, and he didn't purposely fill his speech with comments he knew would go over Jonas' head.

 

Despite this, or maybe because of it, Sam wasn't fooled.

 

She'd been the first to notice him pounding down the stairs into the control room, and although his face had been all but expressionless at the time his eyes had been - of this she was nearly certain - filled with fear.  Fear of what, from what, she had no idea... but it had dissipated shortly thereafter.

 

Dissipated.  Not vanished entirely.  It was still in there, somewhere, beneath the professional report interspersed with offhanded jokes.

 

Janet arrived midway through the briefing to give the latest on Dagin.  "He's calmed down substantially since we put him in isolation.  I spoke to him through the door, clarified who we were and that we didn't have anything to do with the people who attacked his village.  I also explained to him the function of latex gloves," she added, smiling vaguely and then sobering.  "He said... 'That's good, but it's probably not good enough.  Wait until tomorrow'."

 

Sam frowned.  "Wait until tomorrow for what?  A medical exam?"

 

The doctor nodded.  "Which I know is something no one's exactly thrilled about," she said, turning her attention to Hammond.

 

Teal'c added, his tone grave and his eyes suspicious, ""If Dagin Lor has been exposed to the Goa'uld, then he remains a potential threat.  It is very possible that the Goa'uld might have put him to use as a zay'tarc or as a delivery system for a weapon or mass destruction."  He was tactful enough not to mention Cassandra's ordeal in front of Janet, and Sam suspected he didn't want to bring Ryac into the conversation either.

 

"He could be some kind of... Goa'uld operative," contributed Jonas, his voice slightly questioning.  "Technically he could even be a Goa'uld himself, right?" he added, looking at Sam.  She nodded and inwardly cringed; the knowledge that she wasn't infallible as a 'Goa'uld detector' wasn't something that sat well with her.  After Oregon, however, it was something she had to take into account, although she couldn't think of any possible reason why the Goa'uld would want to engineer symbiotes without naqueda.  The naqueda was, after all, the source of many of their 'powers', their God-like abilities.  It seemed far-fetched, but not enough to discount altogether.

 

Hammond, unusually quiet this afternoon, appeared pensive.  "Doctor, do what you can in the isolation room and with minimal physical contact.  It could be that this man is advising us against touching him for our own good."

 

- - -

 

By lunchtime Jack had convinced himself that his seizure in the elevator had simply been some kind of... episode.  One there would be no repeats of.

 

Obviously it hadn't been a premonition, because Carter and Teal'c had made it home without incident a good ten minutes before he'd gone looking for them.  He was also becoming increasingly less convinced that it had anything to do with post-traumatic stress, no matter how strange the coincidences, because so far not a single related symptom had surfaced.  Besides... he wasn't the type.  He had lived through it, gotten over it, and now he was moving on.  It was much easier to believe that it was just some kind of panic attack, maybe brought on by the heat on the planet or the slightly nauseating antiseptic smell of the infirmary.  Or maybe it came from being around Dagin; perhaps mental illness was contagious after all.

 

It had just been so strange, so completely out of nowhere and with no physical evidence that it had actually transpired.  Why couldn't it simply have been all in his mind?

 

To prove his sanity, he'd actually sought out Rios - he'd been in the infirmary, chatting with a nurse named Denise - gave the airman a hearty slap on the back, and apologized for his temper earlier.  The last thing he needed was Rios complaining to his superior about Colonel O'Neill going off on him; eventually it could make its way back to Hammond, by that time having snowballed into a rumor of 'he cornered me in the hallway and tried to kill me' proportions.  Then, just to prove what a fine and upstanding member of the military community he was, he'd voluntarily submitted to a battery of horrific tests and procedures from one of Fraiser's nurses, a man who was twice the Doctor's size and half as intimidating.

 

For almost an hour afterwards he sat alone in the commissary, taste-testing some of the new desserts and trying to jot down some thoughts to use in his report later, but his mind kept returning to the briefing.

 

If Dagin had seen his people slaughtered and kidnapped by the Goa'uld, why hadn't he even given Teal'c a second glance?  They'd come across communities before that hadn't set eye on an actual Jaffa in generations, yet they still seemed to recognize Teal'c for what he was - or had been - immediately.  It was completely likely that the Jaffa who had raided Dagin's home had been the servants of another Jaffa - maybe Anubis himself, maybe Osiris, maybe even that bastard Baal.  But wasn't the tattoo on the forehead thing a little obvious?  Shouldn't it have made him just a little more suspicious of SG-1's intentions?

 

And that went back to one of the first questions posed, even before they'd set foot on the planet.  If the Jaffa really had raided the village, where were the signs of a raid?  Even if they had retrieved the bodies for some ungodly purpose, Jack had a hard time picturing a platoon of Jaffa in maid's outfits coming along behind the foot soldiers to tidy up the place.

 

A Jaffa attack was still possible, of course, maybe even probable.  But there were things that just didn't fit, and the longer he stared at his notes the more unforgivably odd they seemed.  All in all it led to a sense of misgiving that all the cake in the world couldn't shake off.

 

"Colonel O'Neill?"

 

Jack looked up from his papers and found a redheaded Sergeant standing at the other side of his table, her hands loosely clasped behind her back.  "Yeah?"

 

"Doctor Fraiser sent me to find you.  She said the patient in Isolation Room One has been asking for you."

 

Jack lowered the notepaper.  "Dagin?"  He couldn't think of anybody they might have in one of the holding pens, but why in the world would the crazed little man actually be asking for him when two hours ago, on the planet, he'd been screaming for Jack to stay away along with everybody else.

 

"I believe that's his name, yes sir."

 

Interesting.  Maybe... he glanced at his notes... maybe he would actually have a chance to ask some of these questions, if the Muskrat was in a sharing mood.

 

He'd just stepped into the hallway when it happened for the second time.

 

- - -

 

He was running again.

 

Not balls-out this time.  Slowly, stealthily, moving against an invisible wall.

 

Jack stopped abruptly, watching as the Sergeant receded down the corridor without looking to see if he was following.  He was glad.

 

Gingerly, fighting the vertigo once again and half expecting the floor to drop out from beneath him, Jack moved until he was clear of the door and leaning against the wall.  He could feel this wall clearly, flat and cool against his back, but he could also feel some other wall brushing against his shoulder as the other him jogged towards a destination unknown and unseen.  Jack In The Here And Now tried to ignore the sensations, raising a page of notepaper to his face as though he was reading it, casually loitering in the hall and reading something, when in fact he was just using it to hide behind.  While the elevator had been empty, this was unfortunately a high traffic area, and someone was bound to notice if he gave into the compulsion to freak out.

 

That was assuming he had a choice in the matter.

 

Ignoring wasn't working.  He still felt the motions of this other body as though they were his own, just as he had felt the first time as though he were the one who'd been sprinting, who'd been shot, who'd died...

 

But he had died.

 

But that wasn't why this was happening.  It wasn't.

 

Jack felt his head move, as though he was looking around a corner or from side to side, but of course his head didn't move.  He was still motionless, and that seemed to be easing the disorientation somewhat.  It was slightly easier, at least, to separate what he was doing and what the other him was doing, and this time there wasn't the added motion of the elevator.  The sensation itself, unfortunately, was plenty disconcerting on its own; he felt like a marionette with strings attached at all strategically located positions, and someone was above him tugging on those strings, and although he couldn't see himself moving he knew that he was.

 

The other him suddenly pulled his head back and retreated a few steps.  He moved backwards, even though Jack's own back was still firmly against the wall.

 

And then it happened again.  The pain, erupting.  Blossoming.  There really was no good way to say it -- it hurt like hell.  This time, however, it started in his chest and spread inwards, outwards, paralyzing... but not so much that he didn't feel the other pains, the agony from the injuries that killed him.

 

Killed him.

 

He was dead, again.

 

And it wasn't over.  He'd barely recovered enough to walk, had only just stumbled to the nearest supply cabinet and pulled himself inside, when the sensations resumed.  Not exactly the same, but the same circumstances, the same premise, the same pain.  He was talking with somebody, talking rapidly.  He couldn't hear what he was saying, or the other person's answered, but he could feel his lips moving.  He was... afraid.  He was... planning something.  But then there was the sense of commotion, and something slammed into him, and then the pain swallowed him up like a tornado might devour a helpless bird.  And, as though once this time hadn't been enough, he died.

 

Oh, he was still breathing, maybe a little too fast.  In the SGC, he was still standing.  In this body, he was still alive.  But in the other body he was dead, and a black wave rushed over him like the tide pulling itself over an even blacker shore, and the roar of the surf gave way to a deafening silence of the grave all too quickly.

 

- - -

 

This time, he woke up in a deserted corridor on Level 26.

 

Dagin - and Fraiser - would have to wait.

 

- - -

 

On the table in front of Sam was enough reading material to last her the rest of her lifetime... and the basis for several more lifetimes of study, analysis, examination.  Not to mention the building blocks for generations upon generations of practical use.  The information that was still being garnered about the Naquadria mineral was exciting, absorbing, engrossing.

 

So why had she just reread the same paragraph for the third time?

 

Sam sighed and pushed the papers away, creating even more of a mess on her lab's work space.  She always liked to have a little project or some light reading like this waiting in the wings; it was perfect for these inevitable downtimes.  At the moment, she knew, Hammond and Fraiser would be deciding exactly what to do with Dagin Lor, and if SG-1 was to have any further role in the matter.  If not, they'd soon be assigned another mission.  Otherwise, the schedule of events was completely unpredictable.

 

Speaking of unpredictable...

 

"Major?"

 

"General!"  Sam jumped-slid out of her chair, suddenly embarrassed by the clutter she'd been so casually maintaining for the past half-hour.

 

Oh, this was bad, she decided as General Hammond entered the lab.  She thought it had been hard dealing with him in the office, on his turf, but now it seemed somehow worse to have him come looking for her, because in reality wherever he was on this base was his turf.  Her anxiety was childish, she knew; she wasn't in any way afraid of Hammond, but for the moment she did fear what he represented... and what she knew he had come to ask.

 

"How did it go today?" asked the General lightly, as though he were just making conversation.  He wasn't.

 

Sam tensed.  "Fine, sir," she answered, attempting to sound as nonchalant as Hammond but falling far short.  "Everything went by the book.  No problems.  And..."  Her façade trembled and, as she seized up her self-confidence, dropped away.  "...sir, permission to speak freely?"

 

The only time Hammond was ever an 'easy read', in Sam's estimation, was when he was angry.  When the man was upset, you knew, and you didn't like that you knew.  Everything else - apprehension, pride, sympathy - seemed bestowed instead of merely generated.  It wasn't that Hammond was in any way an unfeeling man; he wasn't.  He was in fact one of the kindest, wisest, most caring, most flexible officers she'd ever had the pleasure of working under, and it was no stretch of the imagination to picture him at home, spoiling his granddaughters rotten.  But when it came down to work, Hammond always had those grandfatherly tendencies under viciously tight rein.

 

Not now.  Not so much.  The day before he had seemed a little hesitant, his emotions floating a little closer to the surface, as though a little of his professional shine had been scuffed off.  The fact that SG-1 had made it through their first mission back without incident hadn't changed that, Sam guessed, or he wouldn't even be here.  Frowning slightly.  Nodding almost instantaneously at her question.  "Go ahead."

 

Sam took a steadying breath, then began.  "Sir, I hope you know...  I know you know that if I had any reservations about the Colonel's ability to lead the team, if I saw anything that made me suspect he wasn't fit for command, I would tell you.  Immediately."

 

Hammond put a hand on the counter corner and let it rest there.  "I don't doubt you for a second, Major."

 

"With all due respect, sir..."  She wavered.  "It feels that way a little right now.  To the Colonel, as well as myself."

 

That bothered him.  Sam could see the consternation in his eyes, a dark flicker, before he pulled the mantle of his station up around him and straightened, nodding once.  She didn't know if he was agreeing with what she had told him or merely acknowledging that she'd said her piece.  "I'll talk to Colonel O'Neill about this tomorrow," he said, as though Sam was supposed to know what 'this' was.  "I'd get it over with today, but Doctor Fraiser's sent him home for the night."

 

Irrational apprehension prickled at the back of her neck.  "Is he alright?"

 

"Apparently the heat on the planet gave him a headache."  He noticed her incredulity - the man had spent how much of his career in burning hot deserts? - and shrugged.  "Not the most inspired excuse, but you all passed your post-mission checkups and if he wants a little time by himself... I'm inclined to look the other way."

 

"Yes sir," Sam answered softly, although she wasn't sure solitude could ever be anyone's cure for the blues.

 

Hammond eyed her keenly for a moment, and finally decreed, "I want you to do the same, Major."

 

"Sir?"

 

"Go home.  Take the night off.  Be back here by 1200 hours tomorrow."  He nodded at the piles of paper and stacks of binders.  "This'll still be here waiting for you."

 

Wondering almost frantically if this was a case of 'what's good for the goose is good for the gander' - or would it be the other way around? - Sam tried to protest without really protesting.  "Teal'c and Jonas--"

 

"--Will no doubt find some way to entertain themselves without you."  Hammond smiled only slightly.  "I think it'll be good for you, Major."

 

There was a subtle edge to the way he addressed her, and Sam knew protesting would do no good.  Meekly she nodded, straightening up most of the mess on the counter while Hammond watched, wondering at the General's motives.  "See you tomorrow, sir," she said eventually, pointedly, stepping out of the room and turning...

 

And nearly colliding with Vasilii Nikolaev.

 

She stepped back immediately, started by the sudden presence of the Russian commander.  It wasn't that she was intimidated by his broad face, barrel chest, or dark, quick eyes - at least not much - but she hadn't heard any voices or footsteps approaching the door of the lab.  To be sure, Nikolaev was alone, and he wasn't the type to chatter away to himself, but he was also a very large, solid man and it seemed improbable he could have been so quiet.

 

"Colonel," she greeted him, recovering after only a moment, but the common courtesy that had worked so well with Captain Kozlov and Lieutenant Voronin hadn't impressed Nikolaev previously, and it didn't now.  The commander of the Russian team stood where he was for a minute, as though unwilling to give her any ground, and for a strange moment Sam was certain that he was going to block her passage.

 

Finally, however, he gave a grudging nod and sat back on his heels.  "Major," he responded roughly, not giving her a chance to reply, stepping around her and continuing down the hallway.  His booted feet slapped heavily, noisily, against the concrete floor.

 

Continuing on her way, Sam shook her head, discomforted by the brief encounter.  There was no doubt: out of the entire Russian team, she liked Nikolaev the least.

 

General Hammond had arranged an informal meeting between SG-1 and SG-19 before the Russians had officially 'moved in', and Sam still winced at the memory.  It had been terribly awkward for everyone except for Jonas, and the fact that he'd been all smiles and handshakes had only served to make things more awkward.  Apparently everything he'd read in Daniel's journals and the official mission reports hadn't quite prepared him properly, and Colonel O'Neill - who hadn't yet been cleared for duty at that point - had been decidedly chilly towards the younger man for the next week.

 

The three younger members of SG-19 - which Colonel O'Neill preferred to refer to as 'SG-Nyet' - had at least responded to Jonas' obliviously-offered friendship, and from there Sam and Teal'c had learned to tread the thin line between being polite and upsetting their CO.  But Colonel Nikolaev... he'd been standoffish then, and that hadn't changed in the intervening weeks.  She supposed if she didn't blame O'Neill for his attitude she shouldn't be any harsher towards Nikolaev, but something about him didn't sit right with her.  She had the nagging suspicion that he wasn't just unhappy to be at the SGC, but that for some reason he actively disliked her.

 

That didn't make any sense.  She'd never done anything to him.  It was possible it was just some damned sexist quirk of his... but that wasn't exactly something she could comfortably ask the other Russians.  At least not now.  And it wasn't worth bringing up to Hammond, either, because the General couldn't exactly send Nikolaev packing because he'd given her the evil eye on a few occasions.  Some personalities just... clashed.  She wasn't working under the man, and in fact she was face to face with him rarely, so she could deal.

 

By the time she reached the locker room, she had put the incident out of her mind.

 

- - -

 

Jack got into his truck feeling, quite absurdly, like a hunted man.  Like any minute now the MPs would be on him, ordering him back down to NORAD's subbasement.  He supposed he just had a guilty conscience; after all, he had lied to Doc.

 

But he had his reasons.  He just couldn't deal with all of this... down there.  He needed to clear his mind.  Maybe the seizures, the running and hiding that seemed constant throughout them, was some kind of sign.  He needed to run and hide for a while.

 

- - -

 

Sam had hoped that she would be able to get to the elevator and off the base without running into another member of SG-19 and potentially repeating the awkward moment with Nikoleav.  Her wish was only half granted, for as she stepped out of the locker room and into the hallway, she found herself face to face with Yuri Kozlov.  He stopped short when he saw her.

 

"Major."

 

"Captain."

 

Neither of them moved.  Sam was expecting the same coldness she'd gotten from the Russian Colonel, but if anything Kozlov seemed nervous.  As though he was trying to say something.  "Can I help you?" she asked finally.

 

The man shook his head but still seemed conflicted, finally mumbling, "I... I heard that Colonel O'Neill is not feeling well."

 

"He had a headache," Sam replied promptly.  "Once you've been around here long enough, you'll probably experience a few of your own."

 

He actually seemed to realize that she was making a joke, even if it was a joke rooted in truth.  "I am... sure," he answered, his accent thick.  For a second it seemed like he might continue walking past her, but again he faltered.  "How is... your father?"

 

Sam blinked, surprised.  "My dad?"

 

"Ah, yes.  I have heard many things about them," Kozlov was quick to explain, adding, "Good things.  He seems very interesting.  As do the Tok'ra."

 

"You're lucky Colonel O'Neill isn't around to hear that," commented Sam, another bit of humor seeped in reality.  "I'm sure he'll find a reason to come visit sooner or later," she said, thinking that it might well be later, depending on how this whole Kanan thing resolved itself.  "I'll make sure to introduce you two."

 

He smiled briefly, finally regaining control of his legs.  "That would be nice," he said over his shoulder.  "Good-bye, Major Carter."

 

- - -

 

Jack half-expected another seizure to hit him the entire drive home.  He drove slower than usual, keeping to the right as often as possible so he could pull over quickly if need be.  His palms sometimes slipped on the wheel, his mouth was as dry as his hands were moist, and he hated all of it.  Hated feeling like this.  Hated running away.  Hated being afraid of something that couldn't hurt him... not really.

 

He made it home without incident, and told himself it was a sign.  He was going to be fine, he just needed to relax.  Get a beer, watch some TV, and forget about work for a few hours.  It was, granted, an unlikely strategy for him; typically he solved his problems by jumping, feet-first, into a new mission as soon as humanly possible.  It distracted him from his problems and got his mind on track.  Their little rescue of Thor was a perfect example.  A real, attainable goal was exactly what he, Carter and Teal'c had needed to get out of the funk they'd been in after Daniel's death... ascension... thing.

 

But this was different.  He couldn't explain how; it just was.

 

He did a little menial labor.  Threw some laundry in the wash, knowing full well he'd forget to put it in the dryer and would have to wash it all over again.  Washed the dishes he'd dirtied the last time he'd been home.  Dusted and reorganized the pictures and medals on his mantle with a kind of reluctant pride.  Finally, feeling accomplished, he sat down in front of the television with a beer or three and zoned for a few hours.

 

The night's programming varied between light and inane: a sports show with lots of chubby guys and women in bikinis. The episode of The Simpsons featuring The Who.  A half hour of CSPAN-2, which Jack spent trying to figure out if the old guy at the back of the aisle was Kinsey or not.  Finally he glanced outside, noticed that it was dark – and had been for some time – and called for a pizza from his usual place.  With every passing hour, every nuance of normalcy, he felt a little calmer, a little more rational, and a little more certain that a few hours to himself was all he really needed to shake off this damn thing. 

 

When the doorbell rang twenty minutes later, around ten-o-clock, Jack didn't look out the window to double-check that there was a delivery car parked on the street.  For a split second after opening the door, he realized that that had been a very stupid thing to do, as a giant - his face all in shadows - was standing on his porch like some sort of avenging devil.

 

Then the devil moved, the glow from the porch light fell over his features, and Jack saw who it was.  Vasilii Nikolaev.

 

Somehow, he didn't feel any better.

 

Standing behind and to the left of Nikolaev was the fourth member of SG-Nyet, Lieutenant Natalia Tolinev.  Compared to her commanding officer, Tolinev always looked small and strangely fragile, but despite that Jack found her to be the most... well, if not the most admirable, at least the most agreeable.  He supposed he had a kind of grudging respect for that fact that, after her near-death experience in that Babylonian pyramid thing - zigger-something - she'd had the gumption to come back.  He also supposed the reason the Russians had put her on SG-19 was as a guilt trip for him personally.  After all, the rest of Tolinev's team had died on that mission - squished, crushed and blown up, respectively - and the Ruskies had done what they could to place the blame for that on him.  But she'd never acted like she had any kind of grudge, and he'd... appreciated that, although he'd never admit it.

 

"Colonel," said Nikolaev gruffly, drawing Jack's attention away from the lieutenant.  "If we could come inside, I'd like to have a word with you."

 

Jack felt his eyebrows reach towards his hairline.  The man hadn't said two voluntary words to him since coming to the SGC, and now this?  What was wrong with these people that they couldn't figure out a simple I Ignore You, You Ignore Me policy of cohabitation?  "Hammond send you?" he asked shortly, figuring that there was a one in a million chance that Kozlov or Voronin had made some complaint that had led to this.

 

But Nikolaev shook his big, square head, squinting into the relative brightness of Jack's home.  Both he and the lieutenant, Jack noted, were wearing black windbreakers that made them hard to see against the deepening darkness.  "He did not."

 

"Hmm."  Jack tightened his grip on the door.  "Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

 

Now Tolinev stepped forward.  "Colonel, please..."

 

Oh, no.  He wasn't falling for the 'please' thing.  Taking a step back, Jack told them both firmly and with more than a little bite, "Listen, I have the night off.  I'm sure whatever it is that's bothering you, it can wait until tomorrow."

 

"You'd do well not to dismiss us so easily," said Nikolaev quickly, glowering.

 

Tolinev closed her eyes, stepped back, opened them.

 

Jack had the distinct feeling that there was something else going on here besides a couple nosy 'neighbors'... and that the Russian colonel had just said something he shouldn't have.  Still holding his front door half-closed and standing in the opening, effectively blocking their passage and hopefully sending a truckload of body language to surpass any possible English-Russian difficulties, he eyed them both carefully.  "See ya tomorrow," he said slowly, and he began to shut the door.

 

Nikolaev abruptly reached out and grabbed the door's edge.  Jack felt his eyebrows raise another inch off his face - what was the colonel going to do... break into his house? - but moved with determination, grabbing Nikolaev's wrist and forcibly removing it.  The other man seemed a little shocked himself, either amazed by his own actions or by Jack's, and let go easily. 

 

"Tomorrow," Jack repeated, his voice sharp and nasty in his own ears, and he shut the door quickly before Nikolaev could get any more bright ideas.

 

After a second of thought, he threw the deadbolt.

 

When the doorbell rang again, five minutes later, Jack remembered to double-check the delivery car on the street.

 

He'd just finished his fourth slice - and his third beer - when it happened again.

 

- - -

 

In the stillness of the night, in the darkness of her house, Sam opened her eyes and frowned.

 

She wasn't sure what had woken her, but it had been something.  The night was cool but still, and the trees outside her open window were motionless.  It hadn't been the phone, because she would have awoken before the end of the first ring.  It could have been the sound of an object hitting the floor somewhere in her house, but things didn't just fall over of their own accord in the middle of the night.

 

There.

 

She pushed herself up in bed.

 

There it was again. The faint silvery sound of... keys.

 

Sleep receding into wariness, her frown deepening, Sam threw the sheet back and got out of bed, her bare feet almost silent against the carpet.  A glance at her clock radio told her she hadn't been asleep long; it was only a little after 11:00pm.  Still, who would be coming to her house - with keys - this late at night without calling first?

 

Stupid question, she amended.  These days, the only person with a set of keys to her house was Colonel O'Neill, just as she had a copy of his.  It seemed more intimate that it really was; if Teal'c or Jonas had lived off-base she was sure they would have swapped keys as well.  Since she and the Colonel were the only ones on the team with houses these days, it just made sense.  If something happened to one of them, or if there was some other kind of unforeseen emergency...

 

But if it was the Colonel, and there was some emergency... still, why hadn't he called first?  He had a cell phone, he knew her number.  And continuing on that train of thought, why wasn't he pounding on her door or calling her name as he fumbled with the keys, trying to get her up and at 'em as soon as possible?  Maybe she was crazy, perhaps she was paranoid, but the jangling sounds she was hearing seemed somehow... stealthy.  Suspicious.

 

So maybe it wasn't Colonel O'Neill at all.  Maybe someone had stolen his keys and somehow figured out what house the extra set belonged to.  Or could it be that someone had gotten the keys through even more illegitimate means?  How hard would it be for the NID to make a copy, slip inside, grab her and run?  No one would suspect a kidnapping because there would be no sign of a break in.  She'd just be gone, with no one to vouch for her whereabouts after she'd left the SGC, not even a witness in a parking lot this time...

 

Okay, maybe she wasn't completely awake yet.  Nevertheless...

 

The small handgun was only a few feet away, tucked into one of her drawers.  Sam pulled back a yellow sweater and grabbed the weapon just as she heard her front door open, and she held her breath, still waiting for a familiar voice to call out her name and the reason for his visit.

 

Nothing.  Just the soft, sneaky sound of the door closing again.

 

Sam's chest tightened, and she felt foolish but nevertheless afraid.  Ever since her kidnapping she'd been nervous, more jumpy in places she'd previously felt completely safe.  She had been suddenly made aware that, because of the ties she had made and broken through the years, the SGC was not the only place where her life was in danger, and maniacal beings from other planets were not the only creatures who might want to see her dead.  There were people out there - humans, from Earth - with their own sick, twisted reasons for wanting to get at her, for wanting to get their claws into her... and while the physical scars inflicted by Adrian Conrad's gooneys had long since healed, the emotional ones still felt painfully fresh.  Especially now, when her sanctity had been violated in the most wrenching, obvious way.

 

There was an intruder in her house.

 

She checked to make sure the safety was off.

 

Sam could have called the police from the bedside phone, but they would never get here in time to prevent the person in her house from taking whatever possessions he wanted... or finding her.  And considering who she was, what she was, what she'd been through the past few years, she'd be damned before she holed up in her bedroom with the phone in one hand and her gun in the other, waiting for him to come find her or take what he wanted and leave.  This was her home and she had a right to defend it.

 

Angry, self-righteous, yet feeling terribly vulnerable in her tank top and pajama pants, Sam eased the bedroom door open and slipped into the darkened hallway.  Hugging the wall, breathing shallowly, she slunk closer to the entryway of the living room, trying to give her eyes time to adjust to the darkness.

 

She could hear heavy breathing in the next room - male breathing - although not much movement.  As though he was just standing there, thinking, catching his breath.  He'd never be more off-guard than this, Sam decided, and she eased one hand around the corner of the wall, feeling for the light switch she knew was there, encountering it, and flipping it up before she could rethink her course of action.

 

The main light in her living room seemed to ignite.  In reality it wasn't very intense - only about 60 watts - but in contrast to the cool darkness it was dazzlingly bright and hopefully disorienting to the prowler.  "Stay where you are!" she shouted, making no move to actually look around the corner.  "I'm armed!"

 

Again, no sounds of movement, just breathing.  Sam had expected the intruder to make a mad dash to the door, but if this was the NID they might have been trained to hold their ground.  But then, would an NID agent here to spirit her away under the cover of darkness really be standing in the middle of the room, huffing and puffing like he'd run a mile?

 

She suddenly had a sickly certain feeling of who was in her house.

 

Slowly she peered around the corner... and sighed.  Even from the back - for he was facing away from her, his head slightly bowed - she could easily tell who her caller was.  The single burning lamp was next to him, and shadows painted opposite side of the room with larger versions of his form. 

 

Relaxing, although still feeling uneasy about her state of undress, Sam stepped into the living room.  Her mind raced - what was he doing?  Was he sick?  Drunk? - she did her damnedest to project a façade of calm.  "Colonel?" she queried, approaching him.

 

At the sound of her voice he whirled, not so much in recognition as in anger, like an enraged bull turning on an advancing toreador.  His arm caught the table lamp and it toppled onto the ground, the sturdy porcelain base surviving the trip but the glass bulb shattering, bursting, and the room was plunged back into darkness now pockmarked by sunspots in Sam's eyes.  There was still enough illumination from the windows, moonlight leaking in through curtains and under blinds, for Sam to see that the hand that had knocked over the lamp was not empty.

 

She wasn't the only one who was armed.

 

Colonel O'Neill aimed his gun at her and, like a computer program settling over her brain, her training set in.  For the moment he wasn't Colonel O'Neill, wasn't a friend, he was just a target with a weapon who wanted to harm her, and without thinking she brought her gun up as well and steadied it with her left hand.  Then, because training didn't amount to a hill of beans in a situation like this, her own mind kicked back in, stuttering with shock.

 

He didn't shoot her.  In the dim light she could see his eyes were wild and angry, his arm pointed towards her like an arrow, his grip on the gun strong, his other arm dangling at his side, but he didn't shoot her.  Maybe because she hadn't run, or maybe because she was fully prepared to shoot back.  Only she wasn't, of course, but maybe he didn't know that.  Something was wrong, very wrong, and while it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out, this theoretical astrophysicist was at a loss to explain the how or why.  What in God's name had possessed him to show up here and stand there, pointing a gun at her?

 

Possessed...

 

Oh Lord.

 

But that couldn't be it.  He couldn't be a Goa'uld.  There were so many reasons.  He'd been checked out by Janet after the mission; she'd seen it herself.  And even if Janet had missed something, Sam knew she would have sensed it earlier... or she would be sensing it now.  And a Goa'uld wouldn't waste time with her anyway, he'd be doing whatever he felt he had to do to gain power and security on this planet, or he'd be trying to get off Earth to wherever his allies were based.  This wasn't the action of a Goa'uld, it was the action of... of a very disturbed man.

 

All of this, from the time the light was extinguished until the moment the truth dawned on Sam, in three seconds.  Four, tops.

 

Baal.  This had something to do with Baal, or Kanan.  He was having a flashback; he thought he was back in that fortress and she was the enemy.  "Sir, it's me," she said hastily, in her firmest voice, trying to break through whatever delusions might be surrounding him.

 

They weren't very insulating delusions; he reacted immediately - and vehemently - to the sound of her voice.  "Shut up!" he shouted, his voice strange and rough and unnatural, his eyes glittering darkly in the diffused moonlight.

 

Obviously he didn't want to hear this, didn't want her to reach him, but she had to, she had to make him listen, make him see.  She set her jaw and tried again.  "Colonel--"

 

He yelled over her, his raised arm shaking.  "Shut up, you bitch!"

 

Mentally, Sam took a step back.

 

A small stab of pain pierced her stomach, not a cold metal bullet but the next best thing, almost as wounding, as shocking.  He'd never talked to her like that... never talked to anyone like that, that she could remember.  Not that his language was always clean, but he was usually fairly inventive when it came to curses and insults.  It shouldn't have hurt, not when something was already so obviously wrong, but it did.

 

There was no fear in his voice, only fury.  His breath came in rasping gasps, and with the back of his free hand he swiped at his eyes.

 

He was disoriented, not because of anything in the external environment but because of something inside.  If she shot him now, in the leg or the shoulder, he probably wouldn't be able to return fire.  He'd go down, be in a lot of pain, lose some blood, but at least neither of them would die and they'd be able to get this sorted out... somehow.  If she waited, if she let him end this stalemate, he might very well lose it completely and blow her head off.

 

Sam didn't want to get her head blown off.  But she also really didn't want to shoot him.  What if she missed... nicked an artery?  A thousand things could happen, could go awry, and besides that there was just something fundamentally wrong about opening fire on Colonel O'Neill.  Even if it was in self-defense.

 

But he wasn't himself, Sam thought sternly.

 

Yet he was.

 

Indecision and fear gnawed at her from both sides, and in her mind a clock ticked greedily away at the seconds.

 

Finally, he made the decision for her.

 

The Colonel put his hand to his eyes again, only this time he moved differently: slower, with less haste and less anger behind the motions.  The gun hand slowly dropped, drifted away until it was pointed at a bookshelf instead.  His other hand moved down from his face and he blinked, breathed, and it was the Colonel this time, in body and mind.

 

It was as though he was waking from a dream.

 

He saw the weapon in his hand first, and frowned at it.  Then he seemed to notice his unusual surroundings and then, as his awareness expanded out like a bubble, he saw her.  Still holding the gun on him, just in case.

 

"Carter..." he said slowly, warily, more of a warning than a question as to her identity, and the honest confusion in his voice clenched it.  She stood down at once, placing her gun on the nearest flat surface and walking quickly to him, pulling his weapon easily from his hand and putting it with hers, out of his reach.

 

He didn't move to sit, simply stood where he'd been when she'd first seen him, his expression bewildered and terribly vulnerable.  "It's okay, sir," said Sam, touching him awkwardly on the arm, feeling ridiculous, knowing she couldn't possibly understand what he was going through and knowing that, no matter what, it was certainly not okay for him.  Maybe later, but not now.  Perhaps she wasn't encouraging him at all... perhaps the assurance was for herself.

 

The Colonel looked up at her, his tanned skin paler than could be explained by the dim lighting in the room.  "Carter," he said again, more willfully this time, "how the hell did I get here?"

 

 

- Three -

 

"Only solitary men know the full joys of friendship.

Others have their family; but to a solitary and an exile,

 his friends are everything."

- Willa Cather

 

 

Sitting on the edge of an infirmary bed, alternately wallowing in self-pity and stewing in self-recrimination, Jack decided that this was one of those moments where being beamed up unexpectedly by Thor wouldn't have been such a bad thing.  Unfortunately, last he knew, Thor was without a body, so shanghaiing unsuspecting Earthlings was pretty much out of the question.  Jack probably had a better chance of the ground opening up beneath him, swallowing him, and letting out a fiery, molten-magma belch.

 

General Hammond was standing in front of him, Doc Fraiser kept darting to and fro - poking and stabbing at his body, spiriting away his bodily fluids to parts unknown, prodding into orifices better left undisturbed - and Carter was almost always in sight.  Jack wasn't sure who of the three he most wished to avoid: the commanding officer he had, by omission, lied to, the pint-sized medical terrorist, or the person he had... almost... could have...

 

Then the exam was complete, Teal'c and Jonas Quinn arrived with their faces full of confusion and concern, and the Inquisition began.

 

Jack, feeling more contrite than he had in some time, of course told them everything.  He could have asked to speak to Hammond alone, he could have requested a confidential meeting between himself and his doctor, but it didn't matter; they'd all know eventually anyway.  The facts, as he knew them, flooded out.  The first seizure in the elevator.  The second in the hallway.  The third in his own home.  He did his best to describe the symptoms, indescribable as they were: the sensation of having two bodies in two different places doing completely different things at the exact same time.  The overwhelming disorientation and accompanying nausea.  As he spoke, Teal'c's left eyebrow climbed higher, Jonas' jaw dropped lower, and Hammond and Carter's frowns deepened until Jack was compelled to tell a joke, make some kind of stupid comment, something.  Even if he couldn't get them to laugh, a simple rolling of the eyes would be a welcome change from the astonished solemnity encircling him now.

 

But nothing came to mind.

 

When he'd used every relevant adjective - some of them twice - he gave what he hoped was a pathetic shrug and faced the General.  "I know I should have told someone about this the first time, sir, I--"

 

"We'll discuss that later," interrupted Hammond sternly.  "For the time being I suggest we focus on finding out why this is happening, and figuring out how to stop it.  Doctor?"

 

Fraiser looked at the General thoughtfully, and Jack could almost see the thoughts firing away behind those slightly preoccupied eyes of hers.  "I'd prefer to examine the Colonel's blood work before I rush to judgement, sir," she said, abnormally edgy.  Typically she had no problem firing off theory upon supposition, presenting possibilities if only to stimulate her mind and those around her.  Now, however, she was decidedly reluctant, and Jack - piqued but mostly resigned to the idea - thought he knew why. 

 

"Do you really think you're going to find some physical cause for this?"

 

"Anything's possible," she said diplomatically.  "Right now I think it's best to keep an open mind," she added, the words slightly more pointed and intended all for him.

 

Hammond opened his mouth, presumably to ask another question, but Fraiser was spared the need to dodge and weave again; klaxons abruptly intruded on the Inquisition, and soon they were following by Walter Davis' voice: "Unauthorized Gate activation... General Hammond to the control room!"

 

The General was off without another word - although he spared a second for a mean 'I'll be back' look that would put Arnold Schwarzenegger to shame - and, at a nod from Jack, Teal'c followed.  Jonas, who had a tendency to become Teal'c's shadow when things got tense, hesitated, looked from one group to the other, waited for some kind of direction, got none, and evidently decided whatever possible danger or disaster could be in the Gate room was a safer environment than the infirmary.

 

So now it was just the medical terrorist... and Carter.  The former excused herself and moved into the next room, probably to make sure she was prepared in case this current bout of Gate travel - like so many before - ended in medical emergency.  The latter - still wearing the black jeans and white shirt she had hastily thrown on - perched on the bed next to Jack's, looking uncomfortable.

 

Wondering when he'd go off next?

 

"I'll, um, replace the lamp," he said awkwardly, wanting to apologize but not knowing how, watching out of the corner of his eye as she turned her attention to him.

 

Her reply was soft and somewhat halting.  "You... it didn't break."

 

"Oh.  Good."  He sat a little further forward on the bed, balancing a little more precariously.  Rubbed his hands slowly together.  Swallowed.  "I... uh..."

 

She saw her shift on the bed, probably looking for Frasier.  "Sir?"

 

Jack knew that this shouldn't be so hard.  Just like admitting his wrong-doing to Hammond, he should have been able to swallow this pill and move on.  But it wasn't the same thing.  Hammond had been owed an apology because Jack - angry and suspicious and full of his own invincibility - hadn't been straight with him.  Jack had resented Hammond for taking measures that, in retrospect, seemed perfectly reasonable.  If nothing else, the General was owed an acknowledgement that not coming forward about the attacks and begging off on a headache was not acceptable. 

 

But Carter... he could have killed her.  He wouldn't have done it on purpose, he wouldn't even have remembered it, but he could have done it.  He could probably still do it.  And that... that went so far past a simple apology that just saying the words seemed like that much more of an affront.

 

They slipped out anyway, stinging like lemon juice in the protracted silence that followed.  "I, um... I'm sorry."

 

He could still hear Fraiser moving around in the other room, talking to one of the nurses.

 

Carter was quiet for so long that he began having suspicions she was going to snub him outright... but then, just as he was starting to really worry, she answered in that same quiet tone: "You don't have anything to apologize for."

 

He still didn't look at her, afraid that her expression would be as unconvincing as her tone.  "Really?  You get a lot of guys breaking and entering and pointing guns at you?"

 

She sighed.  "You didn't break in.  And what happened... it wasn't you, sir."

 

"Really," he repeated.

 

"Really," she insisted.

 

Jack rubbed his hands together again, staring down at them, trying to understand how they could have been doing things without him around to direct them.  "If I had any idea..." he started, then stopped, shook his head, and tried again.  "I didn't have any idea that I was going to get... violent.  The other two times... well, no one ever said anything, so I figured I was just... running around like the proverbial headless chicken."

 

"I know, sir."

 

"If I had any idea, I would have said something to Fraiser."

 

"I know you would have, sir."

 

"I don't remember getting my gun.  I don't remember deciding to go to your house.  I don't remember going there."  Yet he had; he couldn't recall any of it, but the fact that his truck had been parked in front of her house had been a pretty good indication.  He'd gotten his gun out of its drawer, he'd grabbed his keys, climbed behind the wheel and driven to Carter's house.  He'd let himself in, and when she had come to investigate the noise he'd pulled the gun on her.  None of which he could remember, all of which had happened.

 

The facts of it hadn't completely sunk in, in part because he was in a way so disconnected from them and in part because it was something close to a living nightmare.  Jack couldn't imagine many things more horrible than being deemed a threat to his friends.  God, as far as adult human companionship went, Carter and Teal'c were all he had anymore... and with Teal'c, it wasn't even really human.  Jonas was a decent guy, but he wasn't really a friend; not now, maybe not ever.  He liked Hammond and Fraiser immensely, adored Cassie, but in so many ways Carter and Teal'c were all he had left.  His teammates were literally the most important things in the world to him, because by losing them he stood to lose so much more, and now this...

 

"I know you'd never intentionally hurt me, sir," Carter responded in the same flat tone, and finally he turned his head to look at her.  Her eyes were surprisingly shadowed, but she did seem genuine.

 

"If I hadn't snapped out of it--"

 

"You weren't yourself."

 

"You should have shot me."

 

The side of Carter's mouth suddenly quirked, as though she was trying not to smile.  "Probably," she allowed, drawing the serious shade back down, but Jack was still left with the impression that he had somehow amused her.  Well... fine.  Whatever worked.

 

"You know," he said in a mock conversational tone, leaning back now.  "Fraiser doesn't really think she's going to come up with anything from those tests."

 

Carter's expression was sympathetic, yet knowing.  No matter how Fraiser had evaded the question, the answer had still been obvious to her, to Jack, and probably Hammond.  "What do you think, sir?"

 

He raised his eyebrows.  "You mean, do I think I'm nuts?"

 

"Not nuts," she corrected him, frowning an exasperated frown.  "But don't you think it's at least a little possible that this is related to your..."

 

"Ah!" he stopped her sharply.  "Whatever you do, don't say 'ordeal'.  And no.  I don't think it's possible.  I am not doing this to myself."  He ticked the familiar symptoms off on his fingers.  "I've been sleeping fine, no nightmares, no insomnia, no flashbacks..."

 

"But you're still afraid Doctor Fraiser isn't going to find anything in her tests," observed Carter.

 

Jack paused mid-finger.  Did that what it came down to?  Being afraid?  In all honesty he knew he blood work was going to come back clean, certainly knew he wasn't carrying a snake around in his cranium, and he'd dismissed another handful of possibilities; all the usual suspects.

 

He knew - and he'd known since the second he'd been grasped by that third seizure - that there was something else in play here, some other contributing factor, and now he realized how eager he was to jump on that possibility.  Bizarrely odd, in fact.  He was, in his mind, choosing between two hypotheses, trying to determine which one felt right.  In one corner, he had a well-known, well-documented, and curable - if traumatic - condition: post-traumatic stress disorder, brought on by his sickness-snaking-capture-torture.  In the other corner... a virtually limitless list of Maybes and What Ifs, spanning everything from alien possession to inoperable brain tumor.

 

And, for some reason, he was impossibly enthusiastic about the second option in any of its myriad forms.  That right there had to be a sure sign of mental illness.  Or maybe it was just him, his MO: prepared to dash headlong into the unknown instead of facing up to the known.

 

If - when - the tests came back clean, Fraiser would find the nerve to say it: PTSD.  They'd take him off the team and send him to a shrink; if not MacKenzie, then one of his ilk.  They'd want him to talk about his 'ordeal', about the seizures, about his childhood, his failed marriage.  They'd want him to write down his feelings, look at inkblots, and take the pills they subscribed for him.  He'd be cut off from his lifeline, set adrift, and they'd be made to go on without him.

 

At first he thought that the mere notion was triggering an honest to God panic attack, but then the familiar dizziness hit him.  He groaned, both in dismay and in preparation of the pain he knew was coming.  Slowly he eased himself back on the thin mattress, trying to focus on the press of it against his back and the all-too familiar ceiling above, but the feelings of the other body just wouldn't be denied.  They came.

 

Dimly he heard a metallic creak, the slap of shoes against the floor, and Carter's voice.  "Janet!  It's happening again!"

 

- - -

 

"I'm sorry, guys.  I don't know what else to tell you."

 

Jonas glanced at Teal'c, but Teal'c's gaze remained steadily focused on Sam.  The two of them had cornered her in the commissary when she'd come for coffee; apparently Janet had turned them away more then once during the past half-hour, they were starved for news of the Colonel and determined to pump it out of her.

 

Unfortunately, after she'd convinced them both to sit with her at a corner table, her meager knowledge had been drained away in mere minutes.  "After you left with Hammond, the Colonel and I... talked for a few minutes, and then... he went white as a sheet.  Almost fell back on the bed."

 

He'd started shaking, gasping as he tried to speak to her and Janet, to depict what was happening in his mind.  For lack of a better explanation, she'd told Teal'c and Jonas, it had been as though he'd been inhabiting two bodies at the same time.  One, his actual physical body, had been laying on the infirmary bed.  The other, the one they couldn't see, the one in his mind... well, he'd said he'd been running again.  Someone was chasing him, he'd sworn through chattering teeth.  And then the Colonel had stiffened, sucked in a deep breath, and jerked as though Janet had had him hooked up to the defibrillator.  He'd mumbled, "Oh God," and Sam had felt her heart being yanked loose from its moorings, and he'd whispered, "He's got a knife, he... my neck... oh God, he just slit my throat, there's blood, I can't see it but I can feel it, it's going down my front, it's in my mouth" his voice high and hoarse as though his vocal cords had actually been brutally severed. At some point in that she'd grabbed his hand, and he'd squeezed back - tightly, but the pain didn't register - and somehow... he rode it out.  Became quiet.  Closed his eyes.  For a second, he'd been too quiet, too still, but just as Janet had reached out for her stethoscope he'd opened his eyes.

 

"Died again," he had said, sounding exhausted.

 

She'd sat with him for a while longer, and then Janet had sent her for coffee.  Upon reflection Sam doubted she'd be able to get back into the infirmary with any ease, so she took the moment to explain to Teal'c and Jonas - in brief - what had happened... and to massage her sore right hand.  "The only unusual thing," she continued, "was that he didn't have any missing time this time around.  He came right out of the hallucination.  He says the three previous times he's blacked out afterwards and woke up in a completely different place.  I'm having Davis check the tapes for the first two incidents, and the third one... well, I'm willing to take his word on that."

 

Jonas appeared equal parts enthralled and sickened; he kept glancing at the food on the other side of the room and on other people's plates and swallowing thickly, as though nauseated.  "And Doctor Fraiser still thinks that this is just stress?"

 

"No just stress," Sam insisted, but she wasn't sure how to continue.  "When... when the body - including the brain - is put through something traumatic, there are bound to be consequences.  How they manifest themselves... well, this isn't normal, but what the Colonel went through wasn't a textbook case either."

 

Teal'c seemed inclined to disagree.  "O'Neill has suffered before," he stubbornly remarked.  "This has never happened to him on any previous occasion."

 

Sam pursed her lips.  "No, but on previous occasions, he hadn't been tortured to death.  Repeatedly."  Not to mention everything that had led up to that abuse, she thought morosely.  The Colonel had been put through a lot lately; she wasn't even sure why she was surprised that something like this was happening.

 

Grimacing, Jonas shook his head.  "But you're all assuming that this has something to do with... you know.  Kanan.  Baal.  What if that's not the case?"

 

"It's the most likely cause," Sam sighed, aware that they all wanted to look for answers elsewhere, all wanted a simple problem with a quick fix.  Unfortunately no such thing existed here, acting as though it did would only encourage the Colonel to do the same, and that could only hinder his recovery.  And there would be a recovery.  There had to be, damn it.

 

Tapping his fingers on the tabletop, Jonas still seemed unsettled with the explanation.  "Do you mind if I explore any... unlikely causes?" he asked edgily.

 

Sam smiled, aware of how half-hearted the expression must look and even more aware of how tired she felt. She needed that coffee.  She'd gotten a few hours of sleep, but not nearly enough, certainly not enough to muster the energy to talk Jonas down. "Explore away," she told him, nodding to Teal'c as well.  "I need to get back to the infirmary."

 

As she stood to leave, so did they.  "Keep us informed, Major Carter," said Teal'c, and it wasn't a request.

 

She poured two mugs of coffee and returned to the infirmary, but as expected the guard at the door refused to let her pass.  "I'm sorry, Major," he said, either genuinely apologetic or worried that she'd give him a scalding java shower in retribution.  "Doctor Fraiser said you should come back in about an hour."

 

Knowing that no amount of scolding, pleading or pulling rank could change the mind of an enlisted man who'd had the fear of Fraiser put into him, Sam gave in quickly.  She consumed both cups of coffee in short order, and then checked in with Hammond, discovering that the unscheduled offworld activation had only been SG-4, returning early because the plateau they meant to explore had been rendered inaccessible by a flash flood.  Fifty minutes later - as close to an hour as she could stand, revved up on caffeine as she now was, she returned to the infirmary and the guard let her through.  However, that might have been because the General had accompanied her.

 

Janet was standing at the far side of the room, writing on a clipboard, and she looked us as they entered.  Glancing around, Sam couldn't see the Colonel on any of the beds, and Janet noticed her confusion immediately.  "I moved him to Isolation Room Two."

 

Janet's tone was soft, the kind of voice she typically reserved for imparting bad news.  The back of Sam's neck prickled, turning cool with dread.  "It happened again, didn't it?"

 

Acknowledging Hammond with a small nod, Janet set the clipboard down on a nearby tray.  "About twenty minutes after the one you saw," she confirmed, absentmindedly smoothing down her white lab coat.  "Roughly the same symptoms, although this time the specifics of the hallucination were different.  And he said something about... being smaller."

 

"Smaller?" queried Hammond, and Sam noticed the General's hands fisted tightly at his sides.

 

Janet shrugged.  "I'm not sure, sir.  He wasn't exactly coherent at the time."

 

"Did he become violent?" Hammond asked, saving Sam from having to broach the question herself.

 

"No..." said Janet slowly. "Although he did try to walk out of here after the hallucination appeared to have stopped.  Didn't hurt anybody, didn't even touch anyone.  Airman Hamilton blocked the doorway, and the Colonel just... stood there for about half a minute, and then he seemed to wake on his own.  However..."

 

"However?" Sam prodded, unwilling to wait for the General to do the same.

 

Janet regarded her warily.  "To put it mildly, he was more concerned with base security then his own health.  I think he might have concerns that, in his fugue state, he was coming to find you.  He was fairly agitated.  Agreeing to put him in isolation was the only way I could calm him down."

 

The cold, prickling feeling intensified until it felt like a dozen stilettos of steel-hard ice digging into her flesh.

 

"There's a camera in the room, of course, so I can monitor him from here," Janet continued.  "There's also a guard outside, and I have a team on standby in case... well, in case anything unexpected happens."

 

Hammond was silent, so Sam filled the void.  "They're getting worse, aren't they?  These seizures."

 

Janet reached for the clipboard again, but didn't look at it, merely holding it close to her chest as though she were a child groping for her security blanket.  The image didn't fit perfectly - Janet Fraiser was hardly insecure - but the motion had enough of the earmarks of a nervous twitch to make Sam anxious.  "Not worse, exactly, but they seem to be more frequent.  And..."  She sighed, gripping the clipboard tighter, "the Colonel's preliminary blood work is back.  Nothing's jumping out as an anomaly.  I also was able to monitor him during the last attack.  His heart rate and blood pressure jumped, as you'd expect, but nothing else seemed to be wrong."

 

"Something's wrong, Doctor," Hammond reminded her.

 

Janet deflated but nodded her agreement.  "Yes, sir.  I'm just not sure it's something I can fix."

 

A nurse in another part of the infirmary called Janet's name, and the doctor excused herself.  Sam was left looking at General Hammond, seeing the concern in his eyes and knowing it was present tenfold in her own.  The painful prickling had metamorphosed into a neck ache and a queasy stomach.  "Sir, permission to check in on the Colonel," she said quietly.

 

He didn't seem at all surprised by the request.  "Doctor Fraiser and her staff are perfectly competent, Major," he replied, which seemed to be an unnecessarily cryptic response.

 

"I know they are, sir," Sam responded, and the sentiment was heartfelt.  "I just think it's important..."  Important to let him know she didn't fear him.  Important to let him know that she didn't consider him a danger to her safety and never would.  God, he'd demanded that Janet close himself up in there, all alone, away from immediate medical care and the people who cared about him, because he'd been afraid of what he might do to her, to any of them.  She knew that wasn't her fault, wasn't even under her control, but nevertheless she felt the weight of blame on her shoulders.  "Important to make sure he knows we're not giving up on him," she finished.

 

Now Hammond did seem taken aback.  "I think he knows that, Major."

 

"Sometimes I wonder, sir," she retorted, and then rushed on.  "You said you wanted me to keep an eye on the Colonel.  To look after him.  I'm just asking for permission to do that, General."

 

- - -

 

At first, Jack thought he was dreaming.

 

A dream would have been a pleasant change, and it wasn't completely wishful thinking; the last two seizures, the first hitting only an hour ago and the second coming so quickly on its heels, had worn him out.  As soon as he'd been securely locked in the isolation room, he'd fallen on the bed and thought he remembered dozing off... after doing some serious thinking.

 

The first time in the infirmary, with Carter there, had simultaneously been the worst and the least bad of all the seizures.  The actual hallucination - as Fraiser was calling them - had actually been pretty horrible.  The first two attacks had been bad enough: the pain, the dying, the fear bleeding at the corners.  But in both those instances, at least it had been over relatively quickly.  A few quick stabs of agony and then merciful - albeit smothering, suffocating - darkness had engulfed him.  The third seizure he barely remembered.

 

This time, however, the pain and the terror had both been protracted, and the death... well, he didn't think he'd ever forget the feel of cool steel slicing savagely through his neck, the hot gush of blood as it poured down his shirt, over his pinned arms and hands, down his throat and into his stomach and lungs, the energy leaving him at the same swift rate.  And it had been all the more terrifying because not only could be not stop what was happening, he couldn't even see it, or hear, smell or taste, only feel.

 

But... Carter had been there.  And as awkward and uncomfortable as it had been to have her see him like that, raving like a maniac about things she couldn't see, her presence had also been a surprisingly steadying force.  She'd anchored him more firmly to this reality, this body, than he'd been during any previous attack, and he'd recovered from it much more quickly.  And he hadn't tried to run off in a blind panic.  All of that had appeared to bode well... even if he was a little embarrassed that simply holding Carter's hand had had such a profound effect on him.  For a while, a few minutes at least, he had dared to hope.

 

And then, not twenty minutes later, it had happened again.  And it had been different, again.  He'd been hiding, and there had been someone else there; Jack had the vague impression that he'd been trying to protect that person, or they him.  But they - the bad guys, the ones who were hopscotching through these attacks of his, killing him repeatedly in his mind - had nevertheless found him.  Pain had shot through his body like a spider web of acid, pain had pinned him to the ground like a metal lance, death had consumed, throwing a heavy, dark shroud over his face... and then he had woken up, standing near the infirmary door.  The entire staff had been staring at him, and a nervous young MP had been staring at him nervously from the threshold.

 

He didn't know why he'd been trying to leave the infirmary... yet he did.  The sick truth seemed inevitable given the events of earlier that night: lost in what Fraiser had referred to as a 'fugue state', his subconscious mind commanding his motor functions from some secret room in his head, he'd been going after Carter again.

 

It seemed clear now, or as clear as anything could be at this moment.  Every time he blacked out following a seizure, finding Carter had been on the top of his subconscious' list of priorities.  The first time he had gone to the briefing room, where she should have been, where she would have been only minutes later.  Waking after the second seizure, he might well have been on his way to Carter's lab.  The third time brooked no question, absolutely none.  And as far as he was concerned, it was only a miracle or a quirk of fate that had prevented him from slipping into the fugue-thing again the fourth time, when Carter had been right there, within striking distance.

 

Jack had come to understand this shortly after the fifth fugue, and he hadn't given Fraiser another moment's peace until she had agreed to put him somewhere where he couldn't hurt anybody.  And as soon as that worry had been off his mind, he'd found it surprisingly easy to sleep.

 

To dream...

 

Or not.  At he was sure it was a dream because of how vivid it was, how intense the sensations were.  However, they weren't the intense, vivid sensations he was becoming increasingly familiar with: there was no sense of motion, no feeling of fear, of being prey stalked by predator.  But he was most certainly sitting, a cool glass in his hands, resting on his lap, the almost indistinguishable impression that he was speaking.  Speaking slowly, calmly.

 

The dream-him leaned forward and set the glass down on a hard, flat surface, and for a while there was no disorientation at all.  The other him was just... sitting there, occasionally speaking.  Nevertheless, Jack was tense.  He'd come completely out of his half-asleep state now, and he'd had the first epiphany:

This wasn't a dream, this was another seizure.

 

So no matter how quiet, how calm it was now, it was going to get bad.  The other him was speaking to someone else, and it was only a matter of time before that person attacked.  Struck out with lethal force.  Jack clenched his hands into fists, focusing on the dull pain of his fingernails digging into his palm in an effort to minimize the agony he knew would follow.

 

Then, there it was -- a touch.  But a soft touch.  He'd slipped both of his hands into someone else's, and for a moment there was nothing but the feel of a soft surface underneath him and that innocent flesh-on-flesh contact.

 

Any moment now, he knew, the blow would come, the pain would begin, and the darkness would follow.

 

And then someone - presumably that same someone - kissed him.  And he kissed back.

 

The other Jack - unseen, unheard - responded, while in reality, prone on a thin military-issue mattress, the real one sucked in a sharp breath.  It was exceedingly disturbing - maybe even more so than the violence he was becoming accustomed to - to feel yourself kissing someone when there was no one standing in front of you, no one by your side, no one within sight.  Violence, after all, was so often impersonal, even when carried out face to face: your enemy was your enemy, and thinking of him or her as a human being with hopes and dreams and loved ones only weakened you.  But displays of affection, of love, could only be faked by a deranged mind.

 

The kiss he was experiencing was not passionate at first, but within moments it had escalated: softening, deepening, and gaining momentum.  Jack could almost feel the hormones rushing through him, the heady combination of tenderness and arousal, but he was too tense to fully appreciate any of it. Soon enough, he knew, pain would replace pleasure.  Five out of five demented hallucinations agreed.

 

But it never happened.

 

The two bodies - his and the other - grew closer, and his suspicion started to wane.  Maybe this... derivation from the norm was exactly what he needed to renounce his hold on sanity.  Maybe it was a sign he had completely lost it.  Or maybe, just maybe, it was a sign of something else.

 

Now the kiss grew harder, and Jack felt two thrills of anticipation in two different bodies simultaneously.  Hands were no longer holding hands.  Hands were reaching out, caressing, holding, squeezing, exploring.  And somewhere within that very thorough exploration, the second epiphany hit.  And if anything could have jolted him completely free of the seizure by sheer shock alone, it would have been this.  It didn't, but it might have, because it was something he had never even considered.

 

He'd explained it to Carter and Doc by saying it was as though he was inhabiting two bodies at the same time, and suddenly, with a little exploration, he realized that...

 

He was inhabiting a woman's body.

 

The sudden awareness was almost the physical blow that he'd been waiting for, abnormal and erotic and embarrassing and enlightening all at once.  Now he understood the comment he'd made to Doc - shortly before slipping into the fugue - about being smaller.  This form was lighter, more slender, and more graceful then what he had... grown up in and into.

 

But it hadn't been that way the entire time, he was sure of it.  The first two hallucinations, at least, he had been a man -- and Jesus, that sounded weird.  He would have noticed earlier if he had been a woman all this time -- and hell, that sounded even weirder.

 

However, it was the cause of the third epiphany.

 

An epiphany he was able to ignore for the time being.  The frankly astonishing revelation had shocked him right out of his paranoid anticipation of pain and suffering and inevitable death, and now he found that he was able to enjoy the 'hallucination'.  Maybe it was perverse, maybe it was voyeuristic, maybe he was one step away from being a bona fide dirty old man.  But it was about damned time this condition gave him something that wasn't disturbing and agonizing, and if this was it... well, he'd take it.  If this was the only time in the foreseeable future that he would be able to feel wanted and needed in that way, well, then he'd take that too.  He always had.

 

Unfortunately, like a PG-13-rated movie, it all faded away before things could get really interesting.  The old kiss-and-cigarette, only he wouldn't even get to experience the cigarette part.  The impressions, physical and mental, lingered in his mind even after the sensations had left him.

 

Jack opened his eyes, looked around the empty room, and closed them again.  No visions of death.  No black tide, no dark cloth, no demons grinning wickedly from the corners of his mind.  Just a vague something - a warmth, a light, and then... the unmistakable feeling that time had passed.

 

He opened his eyes again.  The ceiling looked no different, but then again why would it?  Nevertheless he knew that time had passed, that he had drifted into another fugue, but this time he hadn't moved from where he'd lain.  Maybe, he reasoned, his subconscious was starting to understand that it couldn't win, couldn't get out, couldn't hurt Carter, and should just give up. 

 

Well, that was wishful thinking.

 

"Sir?"

 

Strangely, Jack wasn't startled by the sound of her voice.  He'd known that she wouldn't be able to stay away, and part of him was glad she hadn't.  The other part was just... scared for her.  Very scared.

 

- - -

 

When Sam had first entered the room, the Colonel had been asleep, prone on the narrow bed, still dressed and booted.  For one short moment she had envied him... and then that small bit of jealousy berated itself and became relief.  He'd been able to get some rest, and rest was invaluable.

 

She'd taken a seat in the room's single chair, leaving the small desk lamp on because it was the only illumination in the room and hadn't seemed to have bothered Colonel O'Neill thus far.  For a while she sat and watched him do nothing but sleep, and that led to her observing him sleep, which was very different.

 

This was, she realized, the same room she'd been put in when she'd been suspected of being a zay'tarc, and didn't that just bring the happy memories flooding back.  But was this really so different?

 

The hallucinations were a problem in themselves: they were obviously deeply disturbing, very frightening, and incapacitating.  But the fugues that followed seemed to be another mystery altogether.  Was it just his brain trying to reset itself after the violence and irrationality of the seizure, or was there something else at work here?   Like a sleepwalker trying to sort out his subconscious problems while the unconscious mind was suppressed?

 

That had disturbing implications.

 

It meant that deep down, the Colonel still connected her, associated her with the double-whammy of implantation and torture.  It meant that he must have a great deal of anger towards her, anger he wasn't admitting to or accepting but that was still there, roiling under the surface, taking control when his waking mind shut down.  It meant... he blamed her.  Hated her.


Sam shook her head.  That just didn't make sense.  She hadn't forced him to accept the Tok'ra's offer.  She hadn't gone ahead and okayed it without consulting him first.  She'd asked him, hard as it had been; she'd presented him with the option and allowed him to decide for himself.  Of course, she'd wanted him to accept very badly, and maybe that had showed, maybe that had influenced him at that penultimate moment of weakness and he regretted it now... but regret was a far cry from rage that manifested itself in a desire to kill her.

 

The Colonel's eyes opened.

 

He stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds, not seeming to realize that he wasn't alone, but when she announced her presence with a hesitant "Sir?", he turned his head to look at her as though he'd been aware of the company all along.

 

"You shouldn't be here," he said hoarsely.

 

Sam didn't answer, and the Colonel pushed himself into a sitting position.  "Did you hear me?" he asked, and there was a thin line of fear beneath the tone of command.

 

"Yes sir," she responded calmly, trying in every way - tone of voice, body language, and spoken words - to let him know she wasn't afraid.  That was what he needed, she was sure: confidence, trust, someone believing in him.  "But there's a camera in this room -" she nodded at the corner in which it was mounted "-and a guard outside.  And it doesn't matter.  You're not going to try to hurt me."

 

This time the silence was the Colonel's.  He pulled his knees up and leaned against the pillows, looking ahead unhappily.

 

Sam leaned forward almost unconsciously, trying to read his expression.  "It happened again, didn't it?"

 

He sighed and glanced at her without moving his head.  "Just came out of it," he said morosely.

 

So he hadn't exactly been sleeping, Sam thought, but he also hadn't been trying to hunt her down.  "That bad?" she asked, because judging by his intensively solemn demeanor it must have been extremely painful, extremely distressing.

 

The Colonel merely shrugged, neither confirming nor denying, and Sam was struck by the strange feeling that this was the kind of non-conversation he would have been having with Daniel right now, if Daniel had been here.  She wished he was here.  Then she could have been off with Teal'c and Davis, going over the tapes from the previous day, brainstorming with Janet on possible causes and cures, safe in the knowledge that Daniel wouldn't allow the Colonel to spiral too far into depression.

 

It wasn't that she disliked spending time with Colonel O'Neill, even in this kind of situation; after all, she had been the one to ask Hammond for permission to come here... no one had twisted her arm.  But she had felt obligated.  Daniel wasn't here, that was the truth of the matter, and someone had to step up and... take his place.  Jonas was doing what he could in the technical aspects of that role, but acting as a friend... that duty fell to Sam and Teal'c.  And in this case she was the more deeply involved of the two.

 

No, it wasn't that she disliked being here.  But she wished that she didn't have to be the bearer of bad news on top of everything else.  "Doctor Fraiser's still working on it," she said, trying to spin what she'd been told into a more positive light.  "She's been able to rule some things out from looking at blood work and tests, and the sooner we know what this is, the sooner we can--"

 

"Carter," he interrupted, finally turning to face her, swinging his legs over the side of the bed in an explosion of restless energy.  "If you're not going to leave, will you at least be quiet and listen for a minute?"

 

She nearly smiled, glad to see the spark return to his eyes and voice.  "Of course, sir."

 

He tried to look annoyed but was obviously too preoccupied with other things to keep up the act for long.  He stalled, sighed, looked up at her hesitantly, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing, about who would have been sitting in her chair if this had happened six months ago.

 

Finally, he began.  "This last time... the body I was in... it was a woman."

 

Sam's brow furrowed slightly.  "A woman?"

 

The Colonel scratched at his forehead absently and sighed again.  "Yeah... it's hard to explain, it just, um... felt different."

 

"I suppose I can understand that," said Sam, not really understanding at all.  But... hadn't he mentioned something to Janet the last time about feeling smaller?  Smaller in stature, maybe?  "You're saying these hallucinations--"

 

"I'm saying they're not hallucinations," he corrected her.  "Whatever's going on here...  I thought they might be memories.  Past missions, bad stuff that happened before the SGC, and I was... making up the death part."  He shrugged, obviously not thrilled with the explanation.  "But this..." - he began to speak with his hands - "this was different.  And I think for the last couple of times, I've been experiencing these things in some woman's body."  Sam shifted in her seat, breaking eye contact.  What, exactly, was she supposed to say to that?  Thankfully, however, he seemed willing to continue on his own.  "And as far as Frasier's tests are concerned... I don't care what she did or didn't find.  These 'hallucinations' of mine... I don't know how or why, but they're coming from somewhere else.  Not me."

 

Sam almost told him about Jonas Quinn's skepticism but held back, aware that he might find Jonas a less than flattering ally.  "What about the fugues?" she asked instead, ready - if not completely eager - to hear this theory on those, hoping it would blow her own out of the water.

 

But the Colonel's face crumpled somewhat, and this time he was the one to look away.  "I dunno," he mumbled.  "And until we figure it out... I don't want you trying to spring me.  I want to be here."

 

"Fine," was the easy reply, threaded with defiance.  "But if you recall, sir, General Hammond specifically asked me to keep an eye on you, and I intend to follow his orders to the fullest."

 

It seemed the Colonel would have liked to get angry, at least a little irate, but it was equally obvious that he just didn't have the energy right now.  "You know... I'm doing this for your own good."

 

Six years ago, the idea that he thought he had to protect her from anything - up to and including himself - would have made her bristle.  It wouldn't have mattered if it was the truth or not; all she would have seen was him not trusting her to be capable, to take care of herself.  She would have ragged and huffed and blown him off in the least-unprofessional manner possible.

 

But that was six years ago, and she had mellowed, and she thought she had gotten to know Colonel Jack O'Neill very well.  He was by and large a man of action; he liked to be doing things, doing something, keeping busy even if it was only to expel nervous energy.  Maybe there was another side of him, a side that liked sitting on the dock all day flanked by a cooler of beer and a tackle box, but she'd yet to see that for herself.  She knew he liked taking part in finding solutions to things, if not by being an active participant in the brainstorming process, than by acting as a sounding board.  Sam didn't know how many times - flitting between her lab and Daniel's and the infirmary, wherever the calamity was focused - his off the cuff remarks had been a godsend.  Even if he couldn't come up with the solution himself, he never just sat back and waited for it to be found.

 

Concurrently she knew that, probably because of the losses in his life, he took his responsibility as protector very seriously.  To save someone's life, to keep someone he cared about safe, he'd always been willing to risk a lot and he respected other people who did the same.  It was the reason, Sam was sure, that he hadn't been as distant towards Jonas as he might have been.

 

All this boiled down to one thing: if he was worried enough for her safety to sit on the sidelines, to be cooped up in here and virtually unable to assist in his own salvation, he must be very worried indeed.

 

She nodded, knowing that - for now, at least - it was best to leave.

 

- - -

 

Carter was halfway to the door when it occurred to him: something else had happened that he'd neglected to report, not maliciously but because it had seemed insignificant when compared to certain other events.  But he remembered now that it was indeed significant... or at least important enough to mention.  "Nikolaev showed up at my house last night."

 

Either the total non-sequitur or the actual nature of the information stopped Carter in her tracks at the end of the bed, and she looked at him oddly.  "Colonel Nikolaev?"

 

"You know any others?  Tolinev was there too... and yes, that would be Lieutenant Tolinev."

 

Carter frowned.  "What did they want?"

 

Jack shrugged and leaned back against the wall again, boots on the bed.  "Don't know.  He said he needed to talk to me about something and I wasn't exactly in the mood for chitchat, so I told him to take a hike."

 

Her frown deepened.  "What do you think he wanted to talk about?"

 

"Maybe his officers want to pack up and go home because I ignored them," he said pointedly, then shook his head in confusion.  "I didn't really give him a chance to be more specific, but... I get the strangest feeling that the guy just doesn't like me much."

 

That warranted at least one sarcastic barb from the Major, but she continued to look concerned.  "Really?" she asked, crossing her arms.  "And here I thought it was just me."

 

Now Jack was fairly certain his expression matched hers.  "Nikolaev's been giving you a hard time?"  Well, there was a reason for him to kick some serious Russian ass, metaphorical or otherwise.  They could come here, they could traipse around his base, they could go through his Stargate, but they could not harass his people and get away with it... possible international incidents and Second Cold War be damned.

 

Carter's answer was studiously noncommittal.  "It's not that.  He just... doesn't seem to be a fan."  She smiled thinly.  "For all we know, Rodney McKay's spreading horrible rumors about us all over Moscow."

 

Oh yeah.  From what he'd heard, he could only imagine what kind of gossip McKay would be dishing about Carter.  Probably not the kind she was thinking of.  "Well, not only did he give me attitude about 'dismissing' him, he physically tried to keep me from closing the door in his face."

 

"Are you going to tell Hammond?" Carter asked, surprised... by Nikolaev's actions or by Jack's, he wasn't sure. 

 

They both knew that claiming the Russian had used physical force - no matter how small - would put the General in an awkward position, but that was why they gave him the stars on his shoulder, and Jack said as much.  "Who knows, maybe he had a little too much vodka trying to kill the bug up his as... butt and 'wasn't himself'.  But I mean it, Carter... if he hassles you, you let me know.  I think right now I could do just about anything and blame it on mental illness."

 

Wow.  Was it his imagination, or had she just blushed ever so slightly?  Because he certainly hadn't meant it like that... although now that the notion was in his mind he couldn't think of anything else.  "Does the same go for Teal'c and Jonas?" Carter asked, trying to mend the awkward silence.

 

Privately, Jack didn't think so.  After all, Teal'c was more than a match for Nikolaev, not to mention the whole silent intimidation thing he had going for him.  The last person affiliated with the SGC who'd picked on Teal'c had been a virus-infected Marine who'd been taken care of easily enough.  And Jonas... pragmatically he knew that he would come to the defense of the newest team member, but it didn't do to dwell on it.  "Sure," he said anyway, because to subject Carter to any special treatment would be putting his head into the lion's mouth.

 

"I'll be back," she promised, and she knocked for the MP stationed outside to let her out.  Watching her go, Jack felt a bipolar mix of relief and disappointment rose up and imprinted themselves like a stubborn stain on his psyche.

 

It was nerve-wracking being in the same room with her, never knowing when the next seizure would strike... but it was also nice knowing that someone was looking out for him, not from a television on another level but in the flesh, face to face.

 

His friends were all he had left, and he'd always been willing to take what he could get.

 

 

- Four -

 

There is a destiny that makes us brothers,

No one goes his way alone;

All that we send into the lives of others,

Comes back into our own.

- Edwin Markham

 

 

Halfway through a game of memory with a deck of cards Airman Lee had passed him half an hour ago, the same young man opened the door a few inches and peered inside.  "Colonel O'Neill?"

 

Ruefully Jack admitted that this wasn't exactly standard guard-prisoner interaction, but he wasn't exactly a prisoner and Patrick Lee was a gregarious kind of guy anyway.  "Yeah?"

 

"The patient across the hall's been asking for you for the last hour, sir.  Airman Wallis told him where to... that is, he explained that you were unavailable, but he's very adamant, sir."

 

Crap.  "Dagin?"

 

"Yes sir.  I'm sorry to bother your, uh, game, but..."

 

Jack shook his head and pushed the cards into a sloppy pile on his bed.  Maybe he'd get to talk with the little man after all, if he was ready to talk and didn't merely want to screech at him some more.  And even that would, at least, give him something to do.  Briefly he debated having Lee and Wallis escort the Muskrat over, but decided against it.  Jack was here on a far more voluntary basis than was Dagin, and if he had another seizure he would have plenty of time to dash across the hall before the fugue hit.  He hoped.

 

- - -

 

Sam already knew that it was going to be one of those days, and it was only two in the morning.

 

Teal'c had come up empty-handed, which was to say his information merely confirmed what they had already known from the Colonel's account.  He had wound up helping Davis go back through the tapes of the day before, standard surveillance video taken from cameras around the base, most specifically ones that had captured Colonel O'Neill's attacks on film.  The second was the most useful, even if they had missed something when he'd stepped into the supply closet between hallucinations.

 

"The Colonel doesn't think they're hallucinations," Sam informed her teammates, repressing her skepticism for the time being.  They were in her lab, a safe place to talk, to think and figure out what they should tell the General.  It wasn't a matter of lying to Hammond, of course, but they couldn't throw every wacky theory at him... and judging by the gleam in Jonas' eyes, wacky theories would not be in short supply this night.  "It happened again, and this time... he says it was a woman's body."  And God only knew how he'd figured that out.

 

Jonas, perched on a stool with his chin cradled thoughtfully in one hand, straightened suddenly and looked at Teal'c.  "What did I tell you?" he demanded excitedly, and Teal'c came within microns of rolling his eyes.

 

On the other side of the table, a hot mug of coffee in her hands, Sam looked at the two of them with suspicion.  "What do you mean?"

 

Jonas looked at her, not dissuaded by Teal'c's lack of enthusiasm.  "I it's just a theory, but it's based on some very interesting reading material that Teal'c gave me."

 

Oh no.  "Ah... really?"

 

"Well first I started thinking... you're all assuming that this has something to do with, you know... post-traumatic stress, because it didn't start happening until after Colonel O'Neill escaped from Baal.  But what I think we've overlooked is the fact that it also didn't start happening until after we came back from P3F-787.  Not even an hour had gone by before the first seizure."

 

"That's true," Sam acknowledged.  "But nothing out of the ordinary happened on 787.  It was creepy, sure, but not dangerous."

 

"On the contrary," said Teal'c thoughtfully, standing near the closed door with his hands clasped behind him.  "Dagin Lor was most strange."

 

She smiled.  "Okay, I admit that.  But--"

 

"Dagin wasn't the only thing," Jonas protested.  "How often do you come across a civilization where the entire population has just been slaughtered?  Or," he amended, "kidnapped?  In either case, completely vanished?"

 

"It... happens," answered Sam, aware of how callous she sounded.  "It's not as unusual as you might think.  It's what the Jaffa do.  These were just a little more discrete than normal.  Listen, Jonas... I'm open to ideas, but if you have a point, feel free to come to it."

 

Jonas obliged: "We just returned from a planet where maybe hundreds of people were killed, and all of a sudden Colonel O'Neill starts having these... visions of people being killed."  He eyed her knowingly.  "Don't tell me that you don't see the connection."

 

A tension headache was starting to set in behind Sam's eyes.  She took a quick swig of coffee, and the hot liquid burned her tongue.  "You're trying to say," she said slowly, her desire not to offend warring with her exhaustion and her incredulity, "you think the Colonel is being haunted.  By the ghosts of 787."

 

Jonas shrugged and Sam set her coffee down with more force than intended.  "Teal'c, exactly what kind of 'interesting reading material' have you been giving him?"

 

"I'm not making this up," Jonas interjected.  "Plenty of highly-decorated journalists have documented evidence of individuals receiving psychic visions while standing in places where large numbers of people have died."

 

Resisting the urge to comment on such 'journalists', Sam shook her head.  "Colonel O'Neill isn't exactly psychic.  And these aren't visions, they're... tactile sensations."

 

"The people I read about were just ordinary citizens," Jonas countered.  "And if he is being... contacted by somebody - or somebodies - who's to say that they'd only use sight and sound as a way to communicate?"

 

Was she actually having this conversation?  Was she really?  "Fine.  Say you're right.  What are they trying to communicate?  All that the Colonel's been experiencing is how they died.  What good does that do them?"

 

"It motivates him to find out what happened to them, and avenge their deaths," Jonas answered, not missing a beat.  He knew that Sam wasn't buying it, she could see that in his eyes, but he was too wrapped up in his theory to really care.  "And what he told you fits.  He's not just experiencing the same death over and over.  He's not even remembering or reliving his own... uh... deaths.  He's jumping from person to person; each time it's someone else.  Men, women, children."

 

Either there was something about his energy that was... persuasive, Sam acknowledged, rubbing under her eyes, or sleep had left her dangerously open to suggestion.  Whichever it was, she couldn't totally dismiss or completely accept what he was saying.  Ghosts.  Tortured, restless sprits.  The Colonel.  Psychic impressions.  It was just so incredibly... without scientific backing.   Why hadn't they all been affected, if this was the case?  How were the fugues connected?  And, damn it, if it was true... what could they do now besides call for a priest?

 

"I'll run it by the Colonel," she said reluctantly, thinking that he might then decide that PTSD didn't sound so bad after all.

 

The impromptu meeting broke up several minutes later, although Sam caught Teal'c's attention before he followed Jonas out the door.  "Listen, Teal'c, I'm really glad the two of you have hit it off.  But please, whatever you do... don't get him started on X-Files repeats."

 

"I do not understand your aversion to such an educational program," he commented, although it might have been a joke, followed by an observation: "You were not convinced by Jonas Quinn's arguments."

 

She sighed.  "At this point, I think I'd be willing to believe just about anything.  But... it's out there."  She scrutinized his face, thought she saw a quiver of disagreement.  "You're convinced?"

 

"Not convinced," he disagreed.  "However... I have been thinking of O'Neill's descriptions."

 

"Of the attacks?"

 

Teal'c nodded.  "In both cases... a brief but paralyzing pain, followed shortly thereafter by death."

 

Something clicked in Sam's brain, the soft but distinct sound of a puzzle piece snapping into place.  She was both excited by the discovery and embarrassed that she hadn't thought of it earlier.

 

"Zats.  That's why there weren't any bodies.  They were killed by Zats."

 

- - -

 

Dagin Lor was on the bed when Jack entered, sitting with his back against the wall in much the same way as Jack himself had been earlier.  His knees were pulled up and he was using the tops of his thighs as an easel; in his lap was a steno pad and in his hand a pencil, and the lead made soft scratching sounds against the yellow paper.  He didn't seem to notice he had a visitor.

 

Several changes had occurred in the man's appearance since he'd been brought in.  He was still wearing the same tan pants and dark shirt, but they appeared to have been laundered.  His overcoat was folded over the back of the chair. Although his beard was still a bristly mess, his hair had been combed and probably washed.

 

Airman Wallis nodded to Jack and closed the door, remaining outside.

 

Dagin heard the sound of the lock engaging - his head tilted slightly and he seemed to prick his ears - but his brown eyes didn't leave the paper's surface.  "Persistence pays off," he said casually, creating long curving lines with the lead of his pencil.  Standing near the door, his hands in his pockets, Jack was struck by how calm the man sounded; it was hard to believe the degree and volume of shrieking that had come from that same individual only yesterday.

 

"What're you drawing?" Jack asked, finding Dagin's preoccupation with the paper even stranger than his request for a meeting.  The other man finally looked up, his eyes tired but infused with an intelligence that Jack hadn't expected.

 

"My wife," he said softly, angling his knees so that Jack could see from where he stood.  "Nani.  She's... dead.  But I enjoy this.  Don't want to... forget.  What she looked like.  Want her picture somewhere.  More... than my mind."

 

Despite the calm quality of his voice, Dagin's words were still disjointed, his sentences halting.  Jack wondered if he was still experiencing shock, or if he'd always been like this.  Maybe the Jaffa had left him behind because he wasn't all there mentally?  "I'm sorry about your wife."

 

Dagin nodded and continued to draw.  "We had sons.  Two.  Ninan and Lev.  They were taken away.  Will... draw them next."

 

"Away?" Jack asked, and then he cringed.  Away.  Of course.  Taken by the Jaffa, probably to a stockade similar to the one where they'd met Teal'c.  "Right," he said quickly, relieving the other man of needing to explain.

 

"I hope they're happy," said Dagin wistfully.  "Until I'm with them."

 

Biting his tongue, almost envying the man for the dreamworld he lived in, Jack took a step closer.  Dagin looked up quickly, his expression warning, and Jack stopped.  "You wanted to talk to me about something?" he asked, trying not to sound too harsh.  Normally he wouldn't give a fig, but the knowledge that this guy was a widower and a bereaved parent on top of being a sole survivor... well, he wasn't immune to that.

 

Dagin didn't seem disturbed by the change in topic, and now he only gave his artwork half of his attention, directing the rest at Jack.  "Have they locked you away... as well?"

 

Jack automatically glanced over his shoulder, aware that Wallis and Lee must have been gossiping loud enough for folks to hear the news in the next section.  He sighed and corrected, "Nobody locked me up.  I asked to be put in isolation."

 

The pencil scritched and scratched.  Dagin nodded in approval.  "Sometimes it is good.  Being alone," he said, and he smiled slightly as though there was some hidden joke.

 

"Sometimes," Jack agreed.

 

"I hate being alone."

 

Jack shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  "Okay..."

 

"But sometimes..."  Dagin looked affectionately at the sketch of his wife.  "Sometimes it is needed.  If you're alone.  You're fine."

 

Oh yeah, this guy sounded like damaged goods all right.  "You know, we still need to give you a medical exam, make sure you don't have any poison in your teeth or bombs in your heart.  I think they've forgotten about you for the time being, but you better believe Fraiser's going to be back tomorrow ready and eager to swab you dry."

 

Dagin looked up again, perplexed either by the long sentences or the mentions of bombs and poison.  "Later should be okay," he said after a moment.

 

Jack's eyes narrowed slightly.  Not that he didn't still feel bad for the guy, but what was the sense in letting him dictate what they could and couldn't do to ensure their own safety?  When else had they let refugees set the timetable?  "Should it now?"

 

Impervious - or oblivious - to sarcasm, Dagin nodded absentmindedly.  "Yes.  For me."

 

Well this conversation was just getting more fascinating by the moment.  "I'm just warning you," he said acidly, edging back towards the door.  "And do me a favor.  The next time you get bored, don't bother me... have Wallis get you a TV."

 

"I'm not bored," Dagin disagreed, missing the point.  "It's lovely here.  Nice and clean.  I like it."

 

The pencil scritched and scratched against the paper.

 

- - -

 

One of the perks of command was delegation.  Sam sent Teal'c to see Hammond while she took on the responsibility of informing the Colonel.  It was a dubious perk, but Sam thought that, of the two of them, the Colonel would be more willing to accept a somewhat outlandish theory.  The General would take some convincing, and it would help if they already had O'Neill on their side.

 

He went right out of the lab, Sam went left, but she hadn't gotten far - in fact, she'd just rounded the first corner - when she ran into Jonas.  He was standing in the hallway, obviously waiting for her.  Impatient as Sam was to get this over with, she didn't feel comfortable completely brushing Jonas off, either, not when this was his idea to begin with.

 

Of course, he didn't know that that was anything to be proud of.  His expression was hesitant, but he began to talk before Sam was able.  "I'm sorry about that.  I was probably a little... rude, wasn't I?  And this sure doesn't do anything to help my case," he added ruefully.

 

"Your case?"

 

"That I'm not 'weird'."  He shook his head.  "I didn't even realize how all that sounded when I was saying it.  I guess just reading about all of SG-1's missions, and what I've been living the past few months... it doesn't seem all that different from make-believe.  Fantasy.  I just got carried away."

 

Sam found herself smiling at his self-effacement, wondering how much of it he actually believed and how much he felt obligated to say.  "It's okay," she assured him.  "And I'm starting to think you're on to something."

 

"Really?"  He brightened.

 

"Most of the deaths that the Colonel has been experiencing... I didn't think of it before, but it could be that those people were killed by Zat fire.  Actually..."  She paused for a second, thinking.  "There was one that didn't fit the pattern, someone who's throat was slit.  Probably by a knife.  But those are both weapons