Author's Notes: This story has an PG-13 rating for intense language and emotional abuse. This is an LD fic; however, BEWARE it is
nothing like the FOY series. Many thanks to Ivonova who put up the plot bunny for adoption on our LD list. Hugs to all my list sibs who
took over the cheerleading for me while I was writing this and encouraged me to find an ending for it when I was sunk in the slough of
despond because it was so hard to write Jack & Daniel separated. And RPonda & Anne - this story would never have reached the finish
line without your encouragement. Thanks for making me see this through.
~~~~~~~~~~
Prologue - 1999
Colonel Jack O'Neill crisped his final salute, in sync with Major Carter, as the last notes of the bugler echoed around
the concrete walls of the Gate room. The shimmering backdrop of blue sparkled momentarily, popped, and vanished
into thin air, leaving only the huge round ring of emptiness mocking the shuffling crowd jammed into the small space.
No one could fail to recognize the simile; Dr. Jackson was gone again, his absence leaving them as empty as the Gate
without an event horizon.
At the top of the ramp, O'Neill turned to his 2IC, "My office, 1500 hours," he snarled. Not waiting for a reply, he turned
on his heel and stalked out of the Gate room, unaware the crowd parted like the Red Sea for Moses, closing in his
wake because there wasn't even elbow room they were packed in so tight.
A hundred feet down the first corridor beyond the blast doors, Jack turned the corner and threw up an arm, slumping
forehead first against the wall. He jerked his tie loose and sucked in air, battling for control of the fury burning through
his veins.
Yes, he was angry with Daniel for yet again touching some stupid thing he should have long ago learned to keep his
hands off, but he was enraged with his remaining teammates for having dragged him back through the Gate at
Daniel's expense. They knew damn well he'd rather have died than left Daniel behind. He'd sworn, if only to himself,
after the Apophis/Klorel debacle, he would never leave a teammate behind again. Not even a dead one and at the
time they hadn't known if Daniel was dead or alive; they'd only known he was missing. As far Jack was concerned, he
was still only missing.
He stood for a moment, eyes closed, dragging air into his clogged lungs, knowing he needed to cool down before
taking on Carter and Teal'c. Which was why he'd given himself two hours before he had to meet them.
Colonel O'Neill headed for the surface and his own private sanctuary. He needed desperately to find some equilibrium.
~~~~~~~~~~
2004
O'Neill ran his fingers over the newly installed name plate on General Hammond's office door.
General Jack O'Neill.
He wondered, for at least the one thousand, eight hundred and thirty-seventh time what Daniel was doing. They'd
been back to the damned planet a dozen times; swept the ruins millimeter by millimeter; activated and reactivated the
particle beam thingy that had zapped Dr. Jackson out of existence, at least a hundred times, with at least as many
variables.
Nothing. Nada. Squat.
Carter's experiments had all yielded negative results. Nothing they'd put in the beam had moved, mutated or otherwise
transformed; just sat smugly in place, jeering at them.
Hammond had finally put his foot down, closing the subject of Dr. Jackson once and for all. At Jack's request, he made
one concession; Carter was allowed to archive the GDO code they'd been using and rig the computer so that if it ever
came up again, the iris would be opened without question.
That had been three years, six months and seven days ago; alternatively, one thousand, two-hundred and ninety-two
days ago.
Yeah, Jack was counting.
Sighing, he shouldered open the door just as the red phone on his new desk began to ring. He stared at it, scratched
his head, glanced over his shoulder and finally - gingerly - picked it up. "O'Neill," he barked, desperately trying to
remember how Hammond had answered this phone.
"Jack O'Neill?" growled a deep, very obviously altered voice on the other end of the line.
Jack pulled the phone away from his ear. He knew of only two people who had this number; okay, three if the
President's secretary made the calls and he was damned certain neither the President nor General Hammond would
be making prank calls on this line.
"Who the hell is this?" he demanded, grabbing a paperweight off the desk and lobbing it at the shatterproof window
between his office and the boardroom. The paperweight bounced harmlessly off the window and Chief Master
Sergeant Walter Davis never once looked up.
"I have information I thought you might be interested in," the mysterious voice intoned. "I thought this would be the
quickest way to get your attention. Don't bother looking up the trace, it will only take you back to Area 51. They're in
the process of dismantling a lab down here. But you better be quick, it won't take them much longer and I have no
idea what's going to happen to the contents of the lab. I don't think the consequences can be good though."
Jack found himself holding a phone blaring a dial tone in his ear. He put it down very gently and bent to grope for the
edge of the chair, not knowing how much longer his knees would hold him up.
He allowed himself one brief moment, burying his hands in his face, before he snatched up the regular phone and
dialed Carter's lab. "Get Teal'c," he ordered, over top of her breathless surname. "Immediately. We're leaving for Area
51 as soon as we can get a chopper in here to get us to Peterson. I'll meet you both at the surface." He slammed the
phone down and turned to the side door. "Wal ..." he shouted, `ter," Jack finished on a sigh. "Get me a helicopter, like
yesterday afternoon. I'll make the arrangements at Peterson. And I want a window I can throw things at that will
shatter. How do I get Paul Davis at the Pentagon?"
"Major Davis is currently at Area 51, Sir. A window that will shatter, Sir?"
"Sweet!" Jack pumped air. "How do I reach him? Yeah, a window that will shatter; preferably before I get back."
"Right. I'll get him on the line for you, Sir, as soon as I've secured the chopper."
"Thanks. I'll be gone for the rest of the day, Sergeant, clear my appointments."
"Yes, Sir," the Gate technician cum personal secretary smirked. "Anything else, Sir?"
"I'll call you if I need anything else," Jack waved his hand dismissively, making shooing motions as he searched the
desk for a list of phone numbers.
"Top right hand drawer, Sir. But if you just pick up the phone and tell the switchboard who you want, they'll get them
on the phone for you."
"Thanks." Jack picked up the phone. "Yeah, get me General Monihan over at Peterson."
Five minutes later the airman at the Armory glanced up at the Mountain's CO. "You're not going offworld, Sir, but
you're signing out weapons? Uhm, I don't think ..."
Jack smiled politely. "Airman, do you see the stars on this jacket?"
"Yes, Sir," the airman nodded vigorously.
"Don't think, do as you're ordered. Two P-90's and Teal'c's staff weapon; without further delay or you'll be mopping
the floor around here."
"Yes, Sir." The reluctant ordnance officer handed over the staff weapon, leaving the P-90s just out of reach until he
had the General's full signature and initials on the sign-out sheet.
Jack made a mental note of the name, pleased that his staff wasn't boot licking now that he'd ascended to a higher
plane of existence. "Thank you, Clenden," he barked, shouldering the guns and picking up Teal'c's staff weapon. "I
should have these back to you before the day is out." He smiled pleasantly in an effort to relieve the young man's
obvious anxiety and jogged off down the corridor.
"Sir?" Carter inquired as he handed over her P-90 outside the Quonset hut employee entrance to both NORAD and
the top secret facility known as Stargate Command. The world was still under the impression they were studying deep
space telemetry down there in the bowels of the Mountain.
"To where are we headed, O'Neill?" Teal'c accepted his weapon without even raising an eyebrow.
"Area 51."
"Just the three of us?" Colonel Samantha Carter tossed the strap of the P-90 over her shoulder and feel in step with
her teammates. "Yuri's not coming?"
Jack did a quick 360, sweeping the parking lot as he shoved a clip into his own P-90 and released the firing
mechanism. "Do you see Krinkov, Colonel?"
"Sir," Carter grabbed him by the shoulder to slow him down. "Teal'c and I need to know what we're headed into."
"I have no idea; I'll tell you as much as I know when we're airborne out of Peterson. Until then, put a lid on it." General
O'Neill shook off her hand and leapt into a sprint as the Blackhawk settled gently to earth on the landing pad at the far
end of the parking lot.
Carter and Teal'c followed, only steps behind.
Part I
"I've found it, Sir. The shut down has temporarily been halted, but I'm having to climb the chain of command as rapidly
as possible and several doors have already been slammed in my face." Major Paul Davis was white as a sheet and
breathing hard.
Jack could literally see the pulse pounding at his temple. His own heart rate tripled. "Was I right?" he demanded.
"Yes, Sir ..." Davis swallowed painfully. "You were."
"We don't need much time, Major. Fuck TPTB. How far? And did you leave behind somebody you trust?"
"No, Sir." Davis indicated a jeep idling nearby. "We could walk, but this will be faster. I don't trust anyone here," he
continued, ushering SG-1 into the desert-camo painted conveyance. "I took pictures." He pulled a small digital camera
from the pocket of his Class A trousers, handing it to Jack. "I'm being stonewalled, even by my own connections," the
major shrugged. "However, I managed to reach the President's secretary. She's working on it, Sir. Which is how I
managed to get the `dismantling' stopped."
In the passenger seat, Jack manipulated the small hand held camera; flipping out the screen, fiddling with the
contrast, anything he could think of to delay actually clicking a picture on the viewer.
"Sir," Carter grabbed the side of the Jeep as they took a corner on two wheels. "If you're withholding intel that's
important to Teal'c and me in this situation ..." she shouted above the whistling wind.
Jack pressed the button to display the pictures and gasped in shock. "What the hell?" He jerked his head toward
Davis. "If this is your idea of a joke, Major, you're about to get busted back to airman."
"It's Daniel, Sir," Davis shouted back. "I've seen the DNA match."
Teal'c was only a blur as his long arm snatched the camera from over O'Neill's shoulder.
Sam smashed into the Jaffa as she reached for a share of the view finder. She and Teal'c tore their gazes from the
small screen to exchange baffled glances, both turning immediately back to the picture.
A small, solemn, tow-headed child stared up at the camera. Teal'c's large finger had trouble with the tiny button that
scrolled the pictures and he handed the camera to Carter, looming over her shoulder now, as one by one, she
displayed the shots. There were perhaps a dozen of the child, followed by pictures of several adults, one or two of
whom she thought looked familiar. Her stomach flipped over nauseatingly as she returned to the blond child.
The jeep ground to a halt, pitching them all forward except Davis who braced himself on the steering wheel. "Sorry,"
he offered, sliding rapidly out of the vehicle.
Jack took a moment to assess the building. One-story, there were very few windows, with the only quick access
appearing to be the double, glass doors at the front of the building. Looking down the long corridor, he could see no
end or exit, only door after door lining both sides of the corridor.
"Major?"
"Two thirds of the way down the corridor, Sir. The room number is thirty-seven. I've only been gone ten minutes, but
they could have had time to collect reinforcements. Alternatively, Sir, they may have just abandoned the whole thing."
He didn't voice what he feared: and taken Daniel.
"Davis," Jack grabbed the man's arm as the major reached to open the plate glass door into the building. "Did you
speak to him?"
"No, Sir, I didn't even try."
"Lock and load, Carter. You armed, Major?"
In response, Davis pulled a Glock from his waistband. "Yes, Sir.'
"T?"
"I am ready, O'Neill."
"I'm going to the left; Teal'c, take the right, Carter, you and Davis come in behind us. Shoot anybody that looks like
they might resist, just try not to kill unless you have too." He jerked a finger across his throat and yanked the door
open, sprinting noiselessly down the seemingly endless hall. He stopped abruptly and motioned to either side. Both
doors were marked #37. Davis pointed to the right.
Instantly, Jack rolled to the left side of the door, Teal'c to the right. Carter and Davis both stepped back when Jack
lifted a hand, three fingers up. As he fisted the third finger, he smashed the door open and sprang through with a
pantherish grace that belied his aging knees and back.
A step behind him, Teal'c primed his staff weapon as he too sprang into the room.
A wordless battle for right of passage warred momentarily in the doorway as both Carter and Davis leapt for it
together; Davis automatically turned sideways, a step behind Teal'c; Sam stayed dead center.
All of them stood for a stunned moment, staring at the only target in the room - the very small, tow-headed boy from
the pictures.
"Perimeter sweep," Jack croaked, his eyes never leaving the child who was slowly backing up against the far wall.
Sam's P-90 sagged with the weight of her shock. The spiraling nausea from two minutes ago was back full force,
crawling up the back of her throat like spiders fleeing trolls. She forced it down and willed her trembling legs to obey
orders. Finger still on the trigger, P-90 still cocked on her elbow, she made a quick sweep of her half of the room,
signaling all clear to the Colonel who had lowered his own P-90 as he faced the kid.
"There is no one here, O'Neill."
"Collect anything and everything you can carry," Jack instructed, glancing once around the room as he took a step
toward the child.
The blond-haired, blue-eyed pygmy Daniel had backed into the wall. He spread his small hands against the hard
surface on either side of himself and pushed his head back in an effort to retreat as far as possible.
They so didn't have time for coaxing and cajoling, but the kid was obviously frightened. Jack took another slow step
forward, controlling his own nausea by sheer force of will. With each step he took, the eyes widened incrementally until
they could open no further and the small, bone white face was dominated by enormous blue eyes dotted with pencil
marks for pupils.
"Daniel?" Jack whispered, crouching down still two steps away from the boy. Shoving the P-90 over his shoulder he
slowly held out a hand, palm up. "Hey, buddy" he had to swallow a choked sob and his voice was shaking. "It's me,
Jack. Do you remember me?"
Abject terror slid slowly over the pinched, frozen features. The fingertips pressed against the wall went white and the
miniature mouth fell open, but no sound came out.
Jack scooped the kid up as his eyes rolled up in his head and he slid, boneless, down the wall. "Let's go," he
commanded, cradling the small burden to his chest. He swept the lab visually as he strode to the door, memorizing
details he had no time to absorb at the moment.
Later, when they had Daniel safe, he would take somebody apart limb by limb. Just now his objective was getting
airborne again.
Part II
He literally fit in the space of two seats; two spacious, accommodating seats, it was true, but Daniel was small enough
to fit, stretched out, between the arms of the chairs.
Carter had eye-balled the accommodations with disdain when they'd first boarded at Peterson, finally admitting the
plane looked very similar to the one she'd flown on with Colonel Maybourne during the alien incursion at the SGC. The
one she'd shot `Colonel O'Neill' on.
Under any other circumstances, Jack would have been giving her hell about shooting him; as it was, he'd had one
thing and one thing only on his mind.
Something Carter had been giving him hell about for the last fifteen minutes. She was on her knees in front of the two
chairs where he'd laid the small, crumpled, t-shirt and jean clad figure.
Carter was SG-1's field medical officer and Jack had resentfully yielded up his place when she reminded him Daniel
was still unconscious and might be in need of medical assistance.
"His pulse is racing, Sir, and his skin clammy."
Major Davis handed a first aid kit over the back of the seats, followed by a blanket. "Not much to work with, Colonel,
I'm sorry. But at least we're off the ground."
"Hospital?" Jack asked.
"I don't know, Sir."
"We need to decide now, Carter, before we're too far out of here, there's not a hell of a lot between here and home,
unless we want to parachute down."
"Maybe we should try to wake him?" Sam rummaged through the first aid kit and dug out a snap capsule of ammonia.
"What do you think?"
Sighing, Jack snatched the capsule from between her fingers. "Move," he ordered, breaking the capsule as they
traded spaces. He waved it under the miniature nose and was rewarded with a sneeze, blue eyes flying wide, a
well-aimed kick to the chest and a kicking, biting, struggling-like-mad fury that launched itself at him, nearly knocking
them both to the floor.
"Stop it!" Jack returned the favor with a well aimed smack to the fanny, which brought his fury up short; chest heaving,
glaring madly through the wildly mussed hair falling over the wide eyes.
"You're not allowed to touch me," the child ground out between clenched teeth. "Get you filthy hands off me!"
Jack plunked the kid back down in the seat and Daniel scrambled back as far as he possibly could, shrinking down
when he realized Davis was still standing over the back of the chair.
"Who are you people?" he breathed angrily. "I don't belong here. Where's Jack? What have you done with him?"
"The pilot believes we will make good time on the way back, O'Neill. He says we are encountering a stiff tail wind,"
Teal'c announced, an eyebrow going up as he regarded what appeared to be a Mexican standoff between the very
small child and the three looming adults. "Are you unwell, Danieljackson?"
Vile loathing, Jack realized; he was hearing vile loathing in a child's voice. It had taken several moments to place,
especially as it was so wrong coming out of Daniel's mouth in any way, shape, or form. The Daniel Jackson he knew
had no conception of vile loathing; being a linguist he might have been able to give a definition of it if push came to
shove, but experiencing it? Not a chance. Perhaps with the exception of the Goa'uld; but even then, he'd never heard
that tone of voice out of Daniel.
"What have you done with Jack?" The small voice rose shrilly.
"I'm Jack," the General stated calmly. "Jack O'Neill. What's your name?"
Again the blue eyes grew wide, then narrowed. "That's a lie," Daniel spat, small fists clenching, face flushing nearly
beet red. "You're not Jack O'Neill." He swallowed, screwed his eyes shut, and let out an unearthly howl that sent chills
down Jack's spine.
It was his name; in a long, drawn out wail, ending on a sob. Instinct had the General reaching without thought; instinct
also had him yanking his hand back with several long scratches where little hands with sharp fingernails had struck
out blindly in denial.
"Daniel." Ignoring the bloody scratches Jack tried again. If this was really Daniel, and Teal'c had gathered up every bit
of paperwork he'd found in his first circumlocution of the lab, among which were the DNA tests Davis had seen, then
surely Jack would be able to reach him on some level.
"How do you know my name? Who are you? Where's Jack?" Clearly frightened now, he threw back his head and
screeched Jack's name again at the top of his lungs.
The door between the cockpit and the cabin slammed into the bulkhead as the co-pilot, 9mm gripped in both hands,
came through. "What the hell is going on out here? Sounded like somebody was dying."
"Put the gun away," Jack barked. "Daniel, sit down. Carter, Teal'c, Davis; find seats and sit down."
"Sir," Carter began.
"I don't want to hear it. Sit. Daniel, sit down," he ordered again.
"No. You can't make me. You don't have any authority over me and you can't make me do anything I don't want to do!"
Daniel shrieked, flailing fists and feet before Jack was within a foot of him again. "Don't touch me! Don't touch me!"
Turning his head, Jack slid an arm around the tiny waist, effectively trapping the small body against his own. With one
hand he manacled both slender wrists, slid his other arm under the thrashing knees and folded the child in two.
"Listen to me," he said quietly, right in the boy's ear, "I'm going to sit both of us down and if you sit quietly, I'll let you
go. Daniel, I need to talk to you and it's not going to be useful for either of us if you continue to kick and scream until
you wear yourself out."
"I hate you!" Daniel jerked at his loosely gripped wrists. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! Leave me alone! I hate you!"
Jack glanced over his shoulder at Davis, who'd taken one of the seats against the outer wall. "Get back on the phone
and see what you can find out. I want to know how long this has been going on, who's had him, what they've done to
him and most of all, who the hell is posing as me."
"I already have calls out, Sir, on all but the last question. I didn't realize ... " Major Davis trailed off. "This could make
things even more difficult ..."
"Ya think?" Jack eased down in the chair he'd just snatched Daniel from, keeping his continually testing nuisance
tucked up as restrictively as possible.
"Do you wish me to contain Danieljackson, O'Neill?" Teal'c loomed over them.
"No thanks, T. I think maybe I should wait this one out."
"As you wish," Teal'c inclined his head. "If you should require my assistance I am readily available."
Carter perched in the chair across from them, her eyes never leaving Daniel as she said, yet again, "I can't believe
you didn't tell us. How could you not tell us ... Sir?"
"Carter, for the hundredth time, I wasn't sure. I didn't want to get anybody else's hopes up."
They'd had so many false alarms in the five years Daniel had been missing. After a huge fight, Jack had finally agreed
to allow his friend to be registered as MIA; presumed dead. He'd been depressed for weeks after finally giving in; had
seen Daniel on every corner, in the grocery store, at the dry cleaners, and every Starbucks he passed; had heard his
voice walking down the corridors of the SGC, actually turned to look several times before catching himself.
Sam shook her head. "I just don't understand, Sir. How could you keep that from us? You should have told us. We had
a right to know."
Exasperated, Jack glared over at her. "Dammit, Carter, I didn't believe it myself. I'm still not sure I believe it."
"You saw the DNA match, Sir. This is our Daniel; but what happened?"
"I mean this in the kindest possible way, so don't take offense, Carter; but would you just shut up, please! I'm sorry I
didn't tell you." Which was a blatant lie, on top of a blatant lie.
He'd known the minute the voice had mentioned Area 51; he'd just known, as if some part of him had been aware of
the information all along and had never bothered to acknowledge it. Nor was he the least bit sorry he hadn't shared
his thoughts. He'd told them only that he'd received a mysterious call on the red phone, from a caller asking to speak
directly to him, and recommending he check out a lab being dismantled at Area 51. He'd played it off as though the
combination of the red phone and Area 51 was too dangerous to leave uninvestigated. Except he'd blown his cover
when they'd first encountered Davis. That was probably what was sticking in Carter's craw the most; he'd taken the
Pentagon lackey into his confidence and not his team.
Not much choice. Davis had had immediate access to the vicinity and despite O'Neill's inclination, he hadn't wanted to
send the man into a possibly volatile situation blind. So he'd told Davis his suspicions, praying fervently he was right.
In five years, he was the only one who'd never given up hope they'd find their fourth teammate again. He just hadn't
expected to find a tiny Daniel. Jack was still in shock. He loosed his hold experimentally, expecting instant retribution;
and wasn't disappointed. He was, however, surprised at the strength the little bugger displayed.
Daniel struck out blindly the moment he sensed freedom, rearing his head up into Jack's chin, thrusting out his legs at
the same time so he catapulted out of the loosened hold, tumbling onto the floor where he scrambled back on all
fours, straight into Sam's legs. Panicked, he flattened himself on the floor, trying to roll under her seat as she reached
for him.
Teal'c snatched up the blanket lying on the seat and tossed it over the child, plucking him off the floor as though he
weighed no more than a feather. Tucking the blanket loosely around the still wiggling youngster, Teal'c transferred
Daniel to one arm and pushed back the cloth covering his face. "Be still," he crooned softly, "I will not hurt you. Nor will
anyone here allow you to be hurt. You are safe, Danieljackson, be still."
"I want my Jack," Daniel whispered, tears welling for the first time. "Where's Jack?"
"I promise you, little one, we will find your Jack and bring him to you."
"T ... ?" General O'Neill inquired, a wealth of meaning insinuated in the single letter.
"A.S.A.P."
"What's that mean?" Daniel sniffed tearfully.
"As soon as possible."
Part III
Jack thought he might have a ruptured eardrum by the time they finally reached the infirmary with their still blanketed
bundle. It had proved an effective and, they hoped, less traumatic way of coping with the constant lashing out the
moment Daniel sensed any kind of easing of his confines.
However, it hadn't stopped him from screaming himself hoarse or finally, near the end of the trip, crying himself to
sleep. He looked angelic now, still tucked into Teal'c's side, the entire small frame easily supported by elbow and hand.
"Where you were?" An irate Yuri Krinkov turned the corner into the quartet as they strode down the corridor leading to
the infirmary. "Major Davis," he greeted politely. "You leaf without telling me anything," he accused the rest of his team.
"This didn't involve you," Jack snapped, "get over it; I'm not in the mood to put up with any shit from you today." Over
the last four and a half years, he'd put up with more than he'd ever thought himself capable of; because in the end, it
hadn't mattered.
Daniel's replacement on SG-1 had been handpicked by General Hammond. The Russian had come with excellent
credentials, spotless reputation and the highest commendations an officer could receive. He'd also come with an
attitude.
It hadn't mattered because Jack hadn't cared.
In the last three hours O'Neill's attitude had undergone a cataclysmic transformation. It did matter now and Jack wasn't
putting up with it for one more nano second. "Find someplace else to be, Krinkov," he ordered, his tone of voice
booking no argument.
The Russian stopped in his tracks as the remainder of SG-1 stormed the infirmary.
"Brightman!" O'Neill glanced around the crowded space for the doctor. "What the hell happened here? At ease!" he
snapped as every capable soldier in the place spontaneously came to attention. SG units four and ten had been out
on a standard recon today; he remembered that much.
Teal'c, Carter, and Davis swerved around Jack as he halted in the middle of the aisle between the beds. Teal'c, the
child in his arms now completely covered with the blanket, led the way into Dr. Brightman's office, where they would at
least have some privacy.
"Sir," SG-4's CO saluted smartly, "we encountered a situation with hostiles on P8X-739er. We were pinned down, Sir,
and couldn't reach the gate, but Gus managed to get it open and we were able to call for back-up, Sir. Some of the
boys - and girls - sorry, Sir, took a little heat. According to the Doc, minor injuries only, Sir."
"Good. Debrief at 0800 tomorrow."
"Sir?" The marine glanced at his watch. It was only 2:30 in the afternoon. Debriefs usually occurred within hours of the
mission, otherwise seemingly unimportant little details were often lost.
"Write your reports before you leave the Mountain, otherwise you're all dismissed `til 0800, as soon as the Doc clears
you," he added as an afterthought. Jack would have liked to clear the Mountain under the circumstances, at least until
he had a handle on the current situation; however, it seemed a little extreme given Area 51 already had all the
pertinent information; it was usually Area 51 the SGC was scrambling to withhold information from. "Where's the doc?"
"ISO Room one, Sir," one of the nurses responded, glancing curiously after the General as he strode to the opposite
end of the infirmary and out through the back door.
"Colonel ... I'm sorry, I mean - General O'Neill; how can you be so sure?" Brightman was saying as Jack ushered her
back into her office. "The probability of Dr. Jackson regressing both physically and mentally to a young child? I just
find that extraordinarily hard to believe."
"How long have you worked here, Doc?"
"I hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of pulling Daniel's medical files, Dr. Brightman," Sam said from behind the
desk. She had the SGC's original DNA tests out of the manila folder comparing them with the copies from Area 51. "No
doubt about it," she looked up, hands spread flat on the desk, posture negatively affirming. "It's Daniel."
Teal'c flipped back the blanket, exposing the child's face.
"Just to be on the safe side, Doc, I need you to rerun the tests. And he needs to be checked for any possible Goa'uldy
kind of time bombs."
"I don't understand, Sir."
"Yeah, I know. But we've been around this block a couple times already. Just look for anything unusual - little added
extras that shouldn't be in there, ya know."
"I'm still not sure I understand, General."
"Oh, you will if you find anything, believe me. I want him in one of the ISO rooms, which one do you want us to use?"
Dr. Brightman stepped to the door to study the large dry-erase board affixed to the wall with patient information. "You
can put him in Room three, I'll send a nurse in as quickly as possible, but if this isn't a life threatening situation, I have
a roomful of injured people to care for, Sir."
"This could very well be a life threatening situation, Doctor," Jack informed her tersely. "Call in extra staff if need be, I
want you working on Daniel immediately. And have Dr. Warner on stand-by just in case. If you need anybody else, you
have authorization to go anywhere and contact anybody you need. And don't worry about security clearance, I want
the best working on this, I'll make whatever arrangements are necessary." He grimaced at the thought of the potential
paperwork.
Not a flicker of emotion passed over the still face, though Jack felt her surprise.
"Take him to ISO three, then. I'll be there shortly. I need to gather up some equipment and supplies."
"I'll take his chart," Sam said, hurriedly gathering up the spread out papers and stuffing them back into the bulging file
folder.
"I'll be there shortly as well," Jack said, his gaze going to Davis who'd quietly placed himself out of the way.
Jack waited `til the office was empty except for the two of them and closed the door. "First of all, I want to thank you for
what you've done here. There's every probability if you hadn't been on site, Daniel would have just disappeared
again."
"Dr. Jackson was my friend, too, General."
Jack gave a Teal'c-like nod of acknowledgement. "Daniel was everybody's friend, Major, but thank you just the same.
You went above and beyond the call of duty and I'm grateful."
"It certainly wasn't out of the realm of my unusual responsibilities, Sir. I hope you believe if I'd had any inkling of this ..."
he trailed off, sighing. "I think it's probably time to go spin my web a little further."
Jack reached into the deep pocket of his BDU pants and pulled out his key card. "Use my office, Major. And use the
red phone if you have to. We have a desperate need to know."
"You understand, Sir, I may not be able to come up with much more?"
"You understand, Paul, I'm not ordering you to do this, only asking as a personal favor?"
Davis smiled. "Yes, Sir, I understand completely."
"Good, then we're on the same page. I'm available for whatever needs to be done."
"Carter and Teal'c too, I assume?"
"Absolutely. We'll take time off if necessary."
"Same page, Sir." Davis returned the Teal'c salute, inclining his head, opened the door and strode out like a man on a
mission.
Outside the office, Jack turned the opposite way, tracing his teammate's path to ISO room three, except out of habit,
he detoured up to the observation deck.
Carter was sitting on the bed, an unwrapped Daniel snuggled in her arms, her chin resting on the top of his head as
she rocked them both to a gentle rhythm. Jack activated the intercom and could here her crooning softly to the
sniffling child. Teal'c had taken up a position at the foot of the bed, wrists clasped behind his back, relaxed, but poised
for any necessary action.
"Daniel?" Sam ran a hand through the fine blond hair. "Sweetie, can you tell me how old you are?" She kissed his
forehead and felt him stiffen. "Sorry, babe. How old are you?" She repeated, going back to rocking since he seemed
to respond best to just being held.
"How come you know my name? Where's Jack?" Daniel stirred restlessly, pushing off Carter's chest. "Where am I?" He
looked around, no spark of curiosity in his eyes, only uncertainty and a lot of fear. The vivid blue gaze traveled up
past the equipment lining the walls, up to the observation window where he realized Jack was standing.
From his vantage point, the General watched the boy retreat, pulling back inside himself like a hermit crab retreating
into his shell. When the thin arms crept up over his chest in that damned self-hug Daniel had finally been growing out
of, Jack's jaw hardened.
Five years! And dammit, the kid below barely looked five-years-old. He was as obsessed with the questions of what
had happened to Daniel and where he'd been as was Carter, merely less inclined to voice it aloud. That didn't stop
the interrogatives flying around inside his head. Jack rubbed at the unfamiliar ache tap tapping away behind his eyes,
wondering if command at this level automatically came with a headache. He remembered seeing Hammond similarly
rubbing his forehead a time or two.
The ISO room door swung inward, admitting Dr. Brightman pushing a rolling cart with a portable EKG machine, while
pulling another along behind. Teal'c immediately turned to assist, moving things as she directed for easy access.
Jack was pleased to see her sit down on the bed with Carter and address Daniel directly.
"Hello, Daniel. You were asleep a few minutes ago when I first saw you. My, I see you have beautiful eyes now that
they're open."
Brightman was new, a temporary replacement for Janet. Jack subconsciously rubbed his chest over his heart. That
was an ache he would never loose. He did not like Brightman, simply because she wasn't, and never could hope to be,
Janet. He'd known from the moment Hammond had brought the subject up he was going to dislike whomever they
chose. He'd deliberately tried to steer the General away from any of the candidates that might have stepped
seamlessly into Janet's shoes. The old fox had seen right through his ploy and, feeling very much the same as his 2IC,
had chosen the least likely aspirant.
While Brightman was an excellent physician, even she knew she was hugely lacking in imagination. She had put in for
a change in post from Antarctica and wound up at the SGC; not an especially happy move as far as she was
concerned, merely trading one bad post for another. Aliens and alien diseases were still the domain of science fiction
in her mind and what's more, she couldn't even share her ill humor with her family because she worked at the top
secret facility all her colleagues had been dying to get into; the SGC - where they studied deep space telemetry and
had atrocious medical costs. In the world of the military where things never added up, those two diametrically opposed
opposites usually added up to new adventures. If she'd known what she'd been getting into, she'd have said thanks,
but no thanks. Not that the military took crap like that from their civil servants, but there were ways of getting around
the system when necessary.
She was trying, Jack had to give her credit for that, though he'd never before had reason to be thankful for it like he
was now. Making progress with this Daniel was like shoveling snow in the middle of a blizzard. He watched her reach
for one of the small hands tucked tight against the child's chest.
Daniel. Daniel's chest. Daniel's hand; tucked against Daniel's chest.
Some part of Jack was still unable to process the incredible miracle ... okay, sort of miracle. He was still reeling over
finding a child Daniel in place of their adult Daniel.
"I'm Doctor Brightman and although I don't know you personally, I have heard about you."
Sam was making furious slashing motions across her throat; Brightman, all her formidable attention - Jack would give
her that at least - the woman could focus to the exclusion of all else - focused on Daniel, saw nothing.
Jack keyed the mic. "Doc, can I talk to you for a moment?" He jerked his head toward the stairs as she looked up,
frowning.
"Yes, Sir. I'll be right back, Daniel."
"Look," Jack began, meeting her at the bottom of the stairs to the observation deck. "We don't know anything about
what's happened to him or why he's in this state. And at the moment Daniel's obviously clueless about what's going
on."
Dr. Brightman crossed her arms over her chest. "And?" she prompted when Jack didn't continue. "General O'Neill, I
appreciate that you feel this situation requires tactful and considerate handling, but this little boy has a right to know
what's happening to him, Sir. I'm not going to start sticking him with needles, poking and prodding the poor child
without some kind of explanation."
Jack scowled. "All right. I see your point, but keep it to a minimum would you. I'd like not to traumatize him anymore
than necessary at this point."
"I understand that General and I will do my best not to incur any more trauma than necessary. You need to
understand to a little guy like this, the tests we'll have to run may be alarming at the very least, Sir, if not downright
scary. Do you have any idea how this happened?"
"None," Jack said flatly. "We're working on finding out."
"It would be helpful to know, Sir."
"I'm sure it would," Jack murmured. "All the way around."
"Are we done, Sir?"
"Yeah." He turned to head back up the stairs.
"General, might you have anything of Daniel's here on base? Anything he might relate too if by chance there are
subliminal memories buried in his subconscious."
Jack stopped in his tracks, one foot suspended over the stair. "You think ..." he began, breath hitching at the
possibility. He sucked in air and tried again. "You think he might actually have all his memories?"
Brightman laughed dryly. "I believe you understand even better than I, Sir, anything's possible in this facility. Not
withstanding what I said before, I never rule out the impossible anymore, until I've tested for it, Sir."
Jack stood for a moment more, chin to chest, just breathing in and out; in and out. If Daniel had his memories ... "Oh,
God, please," he breathed silently. "Please let us figure out how to fix this." He turned abruptly and headed back down
the hall, neither seeing nor hearing the SF that came to attention as he passed.
"Don't worry, Donaldson, he has other things on his mind at the moment," Dr. Brightman reassured the airman as she
pushed open the door to ISO 3 again. "I'm sorry that took me so long. Daniel," she resumed her seat on the bed, "can
you tell me how old you are?"
Daniel thought for a moment. "No," he stated baldly.
"Because you don't know or because you don't want to."
A flicker of anxiety and a flirt of the shoulder were the extent of his answer, before turning his face into Sam's chest.
"You don't know?"
"'Course I know," was the muffled reply.
"So you just don't want to tell me?"
"Why should I tell you? You're not telling me anything."
"What would you like to know?"
Daniel surged up. "Where's Jack?" he asked anxiously.
Misunderstanding, Brightman glanced at Carter with a frown. "He just went back upstairs. I think he's looking for
something."
"Not that man," Daniel said scornfully, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "I don't care what he says, that man's not Jack
O'Neill."
Baffled, Dr. Brightman tried again. "Of course that's General O'Neill. Daniel?" she added, when the small face
crumpled and he sagged back against Carter. "What's wrong?"
"General O'Neill?" the child mumbled. "Two? Are there two? Could there be two?" He pulled back to look up at Sam
who understood perfectly what he was mumbling about.
"Well that's a possibility," she assured him. "Jack's a relatively common name. For that matter, so's O'Neill in the Irish
community."
"Are we in Ireland?"
"No, Daniel, we're in the United States."
"Is this still Nevada?"
"No, we're in Colorado."
"Hey," Dr. Brightman interrupted. "Colonel Carter's answered several of your questions; now, how `bout you
reciprocate?"
Daniel ignored her, generating the first genuine smile of the afternoon out of Sam at the so Daniel behavior. "Where
in Colorado?"
"He has clearance," Sam muttered out the side of her mouth. "Should we tell him?"
Brightman shrugged. "You're in a top secret facility in Colorado Springs that's run by the United States government."
Instead of frightening him, as she'd half expected it might do, Daniel leaned back against Carter again, much more at
ease. "Oh," he said curiously. "What do you do here?"
Carter's mouth dropped open.
"We seek alliances with other worlds against our common enemy, the Goa'uld," Teal'c spoke up for the first time, from
his position at the foot of the bed.
"I've heard of them," Daniel perked up again, excitement shining in those big blue eyes.
"You have?" Carter jostled him playfully. "Where?"
"Where I work."
Teal'c cocked his head. "Where is it you work, Danieljackson?"
"At the place you took me from in Nevada. Why did everybody leave me? And why did you kidnap me? Are you going
to make me work for you now?"
Sam wrapped the small, relaxed body in a quick, tight hug. "We're not ..." she stopped, then started again. "We'd
never ..."
"We will not make you work for us," Teal'c intoned, subtly emphasizing `make'. "We are not your enemy."
"Well, you're not my friends either," Daniel pointed out, with perfect logic.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Teal'c quoted. "Are you not the enemy of the Goa'uld too, Danieljackson?"
"Of course, but ..." Daniel began, then reconsidered. "Oh," he said thoughtfully. "So if you're ... enemies of the
Goa'uld ... too ... than you're saying ... we must be friends?" he worked out the logic slowly but precisely.
Teal'c inclined his head. "You are correct. We are both enemies of the Goa'uld, therefore we must be friends."
"Oh," Daniel said again. "But ..." Instinctively he knew there was a piece of logic missing in that statement, but couldn't
quite grasp the concept. Abandoning the search, he dropped his head against Sam again. "When can I go home?" he
asked, on a deep sigh. "And where's my Jack?"
"Perhaps if you were to tell us some of the names of your other colleagues, we could locate `your Jack' that much
sooner, Danieljackson."
"Names? Uhm ... One was Starsky, I don't think I ever got his first name. We worked on ... " again the shoulder flirt and
the flicker of anxiety. "I'm not supposed to talk about that. Is that why you kidnapped me? To make me tell what I
know? Well I won't. There's nothing you can do to make me talk."
"We were just talking about names now, Danieljackson."
"Oh. Okay."
"Who else did you work with?" Carter prompted.
"There was a lady named Scarlet and another one named ... I forget her name. Oh! Jodie, and there were two Ben's.
One guy was named Denzel, I thought that was a funny kind of name."
"Why?" Carter asked just to keep him going. "It sounds a little bit like Daniel to me."
Daniel shrugged.
"Who else?" she asked, already aware the list of names was going to be useless.
"Uhmm ..." he thought for a few more seconds. "Wesley and Keanu and I still can't remember that other lady's name."
"That's it? So there were eight people you worked with, besides Jack?"
"I don't work with Jack, I live with Jack."
"Oh. Well, where are your parents?"
"They're dead. They'd been dead for years when I was born."
Sam did a double take, mouth gaping again. "What, uhm ... what do you mean by that?" she enquired, as offhandedly
as she could possibly make it.
He smiled shyly. "That's a secret," he nodded. "Only me and Jack know that secret. I can't tell you or it wouldn't be a
secret anymore."
"Oh," Sam nodded solemnly. "One of those kind of secrets. The kind only really important people can know, huh?"
Daniel tilted his head to look up at her face, gauging her seriousness. Apparently she passed muster because he
nodded seriously in return. "Yes, and that makes me a very important person."
"Yes," Sam agreed wholeheartedly. "You are a very important person, Daniel." She squeezed him again. "Hey bud, Dr.
Brightman needs to run some tests, since you work over at Area 51, you've probably already had all of these tests
done before, so it won't be anything new."
"I don't much like those kind of tests. And if you're not gonna make me work here, why do I have to have tests? I want
to go home. I don't want to have tests."
"One of the rules here, Daniel, is that anyone who comes into this facility has to have these tests."
"I didn't come here because I wanted too, why should I have to have the tests?"
"Tell you what, would you like Sam to stay with you?"
"Who's Sam?"
"Colonel Carter?" Dr. Brightman nodded to the amused Colonel.
Daniel tilted his head up again. "Sam? That's a boy's name."
"Yep, but sometimes it's a girl's name too. My whole name is Samantha; my friends have shortened it to Sam. Isn't that
much easier?"
"I guess," Daniel frowned. "I still don't want to have the stupid tests, whether she stays or not. What time is it?" he
asked, totally out of the blue.
Sam glanced at her watch. "It's a little after 3:00. Why?"
"Jack will be coming to get me soon. He's not gonna be happy when I'm not there. He might come looking here you
know, and then you're gonna be in deep shit," he rolled the last word around on his tongue with deep satisfaction.
"I sure hope he does come here looking for you," Sam said pleasantly, thinking `so I can rip his beating heart out of
his chest!' "Daniel, was there anyone else who came around your project, maybe not very often, but you know, just to
check up on everyone once in awhile?"
"There was a man who came around sometimes, but I haven't seen him in a long time now."
"You remember his name?"
"I think his name was Harold, or maybe ... I'm not sure. I think it was Harold."
"It wouldn't by any chance have been Harry, would it?"
"Yeah, that's it, Harry," Daniel nodded. "Do you know him?"
"Teal'c, get the General. A.S.A.P."
Part IV
Teal'c paused on the threshold of Danieljackson's old office, clearing his throat softly.
Without turning, General O'Neill acknowledged the warning with a shift of his shoulder, though he didn't need it. He'd
recognized the sound of the massive alien's tread in the corridor. Very gently he replaced the artifact he'd been
staring at for the last five minutes, a primitive wooden bowl; he and Daniel had had more than one conversation
around that bowl. Though it would undoubtedly evoke powerful memories, if such a thing were possible, they were not
the kind of memories Jack wanted to stir up.
"Did Brightman convince him to tell her how old he is?"
"Dr. Brightman is currently in negotiations with Danieljackson regarding his clothing; however, he has disclosed the
name of an individual who occasionally visited Area 51 while he was working there. As no last names apparently were
ever exchanged ..."
"Except O'Neill," the General muttered, reaching with extra care to balance the savagery coursing again through his
veins. While it wasn't an artifact per se, it was exactly what he'd been looking for. He turned, the sand sculpture
pyramid cradled in both hands, though it would have fit easily in just his palm. "Who?"
"We believe Harrymaybourne may be involved."
Reflexively his fingers curled protectively around the fragile objet d'art. "That slimy rat bastard," he breathed, making
an effort to ease his grip as sand began sifting through his clenched fingers. "He is so dead when I get my hands on
him again."
"Colonel Carter ..."
"Tell her I'm on my way. I need to stop by my office, but I'll be there shortly. Why the hell is Brightman negotiating
about clothes?"
"Danieljackson did not want to change into the gown she desires he wear for the exam."
"Don't blame him," Jack muttered again. "Tell Carter I'll be there shortly," he repeated, parting from the alien at the
first junction in the hallway.
"You don't have any more information I want or need." Danieljackson had both small fists firmly clamped in the
waistband of his jeans as Teal'c reentered ISO 3.
"How old did you say you were again?" Colonel Carter inquired, carefully folding the small, bright red t-shirt she had
managed to acquire.
"I didn't."
"O'Neill will be here shortly. Danieljackson, do you require assistance changing into the gown Dr. Brightman has asked
you to attire yourself in?"
"I don't require any assistance," the child spat, "because I'm not changing. And no one can make me."
Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Do you wish to issue a challenge?"
Daniel scooted back on his butt until the wall at the head of the bed stopped him. "No. But I'm not changing."
"Fine, you may keep your pants on, young man," Dr. Brightman agreed, the unspoken `for now' reverberating with
every adult in the room.
Apparently the `young man' understood it as well; the hands stayed clenched in the jeans.
"I need an arm, please," the doctor announced, holding out an alcohol prep and syringe for inspection.
For several long moments, Daniel just glared at her, then with a side long glance at Teal'c, reluctantly unclenched his
right hand and stretched out his arm, jaw rigid as he turned his head away and closed his eyes. It was very apparent
the kid was familiar with this procedure.
Still holding his t-shirt, Sam saw him bite his lip and reached to lay a hand on his back.
He jerked at the touch. Simultaneously the blue eyes flew open, tears welled and his mouth dropped open in surprise.
Dr. Brightman yanked the needle back and grabbed a towel. Her other hand flashed to the intercom into the main
infirmary. "I need cold compresses and an ice pack in ISO 3 stat! Bring several." She wrapped the towel tightly around
the profusely bleeding needle puncture and applied pressure. "I'm sorry, Daniel. You jerked just as I inserted the
needle. It blew the vein."
"Holy Hannah, Daniel!" Carter reached for him again but he jerked back even further, straining to pull away from Dr.
Brightman too. "I'm so sorry, sweetie, I'm sorry." Sam touched his chin, needing to make contact. "Owww!" she
exclaimed, snatching back her bitten hand.
"If you bite another person, Danieljackson, I assure you, you will regret it."
"Jack told me I could defend myself however I needed too. And you're all a lot bigger than me" There were tears
dripping off his chin, but he scowled fiercely. "You hurt me!" Daniel accused.
The cold compresses and General O'Neill arrived together.
"Colonel Carter did not hurt you; neither did Dr. Brightman hurt you on purpose."
"What the hell happened?" Dead silence met this question as three pairs of eyes turned toward the General. "Daniel?"
"They hurt me!" The drenched blue eyes widened in confusion as he realized who he was talking to. "Go away."
"Somebody coherent want to give me an explanation?"
"I missed and blew the vein when Daniel jerked as I was trying to draw blood." Brightman tossed the bloody towel on
the floor and very gently wrapped one of the cold towels around the slender arm. "It would help, Daniel, if you would lie
down and let me raise your arm above your heart."
"No," he said tersely, clenching his jaw determinedly.
Jack crossed his arms over his chest. "That's it; no more Mister Nice Guy. I want some answers and I want them now.
Daniel, how old are you?"
Daniel scowled. "I'm ten."
"Teal'c will snap you in two if you lie to me again. How old are you?"
"So much for not traumatizing him," the doc muttered under her breath.
Jack ignored her. "How old are you?" he repeated.
"I don't have to tell you anything."
"You are mistaken. I will provide a means of persuasion if you don't reconsider," the General twisted his wrist and
made a show of looking at his watch, "in exactly fifteen seconds ... ten ... five ..." Jack found himself wracking his brain
for a means of persuasion since it looked like the kid was going to call his bluff.
"I'm almost six," Daniel muttered mutinously.
"How long have you been at Area 51?"
"What is area fifty-one?"
"How long have you been working ... where you've been working?"
Daniel shrugged. "I don't know."
"Do better," Jack told him ruthlessly.
"Since I remember."
"Oh for cryin' out loud, you're only five. How long have you been working, Daniel?"
"I told you, as long as I can remember," he repeated, voice losing all inflection.
"For how long can you remember?" Jack was implacable.
"I don't know."
This brick wall had a name and a face behind it. Jack wanted just five minutes alone with whomever it was and if it
turned out to be Maybourne, so much the better.
Brightman pressed the intercom again. "Bring me some liquid Tylenol and I need a cup and pitcher of water in here.
Sir, may I speak to you outside?"
"When we're done."
"Now, Sir. This is my infirmary." Brightman stalked to the door.
"I want a better answer than `I don't remember' when I get back in here," Jack advised, trailing Brightman through the
door.
"He's just a little boy, General. You cannot harass him like this; he is not a prisoner-of-war."
Jack wiped a hand over his face. "I know exactly who he is, Dr. Brightman, and you don't have a clue as to our history.
Daniel and I worked together for three years; we knew each other pretty damn well. I don't know what, but if that is our
Daniel in there and so far everything we've seen says he is, something drastic happened. It's imperative we know what
it was."
"General O'Neill, whatever it was, it happened five years ago. If you're imagining there's some way to reverse what's
happened to Daniel, it's just that - imagining, Sir. The best thing we can do for Dr. Jackson now is remove him from
this nightmare he's been living for the last five years and place him in a stable environment where he will receive the
care he needs."
"And exactly what kind of care do you believe he needs, Doctor?"
"You and I both know, Sir, he'll require a great deal of psychiatric help in order to ..."
Jack slashed a hand between them. "We're not there yet and don't go jumping the gun without my express permission
or I'll bust you back to private so fast it'll make your head swim." Man, not even eight hours on the job yet and he
already threatened three people with demotion.
"Permission to speak freely, Sir."
"Denied." Jack smacked a hand on the door when Brightman would have yanked it open. "Right now I just need you to
do your job and let me do mine. When we're done, you can have all the permission in the world to speak freely, Major.
For now, we're doing this my way."
"Yes, Sir," she ground out between clenched teeth.
Clenching his own teeth, Jack kicked the door open and slouched back into the room. "Well?"
"I don't remember," was the even more sullen reply.
Brightman checked the still sluggishly bleeding puncture and the spreading bruise. Half the thin little arm was going to
be black and blue by morning, and it was going to be difficult and uncomfortable to use. She refrained from patting
him on the head, since he was still glowering.
Daniel pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his left arm around his ankles and laid his head down. "And you can't
make me remember."
"Oh, but I can provide some incentive to remember."
"I hate you. I don't want to talk to you. Why are you here anyway?"
"I'm here because I run this Base. It's my job to figure out what's going on and how to minimize any damage or fallout
from what's happened. Five years ago, you, Carter, Teal'c and I were on a mission when you disappeared ..."
"I'm not allowed to go on missions," Daniel interrupted. "Jack said I'm not big enough."
"You were five years ago. You were thirty-five years old and a grown man."
For a split second the blue eyes narrowed calculatingly, then widened with well feigned surprise.
Jack stepped forward to the foot of the bed, looming over it menacingly. "What aren't you telling us?"
Daniel only closed his eyes, though the small jaw clenched tight. "You don't scare me," he said, hunching a shoulder
in direct contrast to his softly spoken challenge.
Jack huffed a sigh. "Teal'c, put the fear of God into him, would you?"
"Aside from the fact Danieljackson was never easily frightened, O'Neill, I will not."
"I could just hand you over to the Goa'uld," the General said, considering. "There's still a price on your head."
"Go ahead."
`That's it, everybody out."
"I am not finished with him yet, General O'Neill."
"Yes you are, put a Band-Aid on his arm and be done with it. If he wants an ice pack, he's going to have give
information for it."
"Sir, I won't ..."
"Dr. Brightman," Jack intoned. "go test; Carter, Teal'c - out." He turned back to Daniel as Brightman calmly finished
bandaging the small arm. "This door locks from the outside, plus there will be a guard on the door and a guard posted
on the observation deck. When you're ready to chat, you can use the intercom to tell the guard up there," O'Neill
pointed at the already posted guard just inside the door of the narrow surveillance area. "He or she will get me
immediately. In the meantime, you think about how long you want to stay in here alone." Always a good tactician, he
left the remainder of his threat hanging. Let Daniel sweat a little about how far he'd take it. There was a twist in his gut
he ruthlessly suppressed. How the hell did you get information from a stubborn, obviously brain-washed, five-year-old
without turning into something worse than the Grinch?
"Crook your elbow," Dr. Brightman instructed gently, "there you go; keep pressure on it and it should stop bleeding
shortly. I'm very sorry, Daniel, this is going to hurt for awhile. It may be several days before you can use it normally
again."
"I want my shirt back."
Dr. Brightman turned back at the door. Jack didn't even bother to look around, though he did wait until he heard the
door close behind her.
"What would you like to give me in exchange for it?"
The small face lifted briefly, anger flashing like lightening from eyes the size of dinner plates. "Go to hell," Daniel
growled, "but you'll be sorry if you make me get sick from being cold."
"Yep, you're probably right, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Didn't I already order the two of you out of
the room?"
"Sir, if ..." Carter was smoothing the tiny t-shirt over and over.
"Out, Carter. Give me five minutes; I'll meet both of you in my office." Jack crossed the room and swept the door open,
ushering out his two team members with a wave of his hand. He stood for a moment, staring at the door before turning
to amble back across to the bed, holding out on his palm, the sand sculpture pyramid he'd pulled from his pocket. "Do
you recognize this?"
Daniel turned his head on his knees to watch the General approach. "No."
"Come on, you don't know what it is?"
"You didn't ask me if I knew what it was, you asked me if I recognized it. You're trying to trick me."
"Actually, no, I wasn't. So you do know it's a pyramid?"
"Of course I do."
"This is a piece of art that belongs to you."
"That's not art," Daniel scoffed. "That's not even an artifact."
"Ahh, but you used to treasure it. Do you have anything you value a great deal now?"
"No," the child said flatly. "And if I did, I wouldn't tell you."
Jack sat down on the foot of the bed. "I had a very good friend a few years ago, whose friendship I treasured greatly.
He's been lost to me for over five years now, but I never stopped looking for him. I never gave up, even though
everyone else did. I believed he was still alive. I believed someday I would find him again."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Okay," Jack said, setting the sand sculpture on the bed between them. "I'll leave you alone to consider your options."
"Don't bother coming back `til I'm a skeleton. I'm not telling you anything."
Jack nodded. "Okay," he said again, patting the innocuous pyramid. He looked up and brown eyes met blue. "I missed
you, Daniel. I want to do whatever I can to help, but I can't do anything unless you're willing to trust me again."
The intercom overhead crackled to life and they both looked up.
"General O'Neill, your presence is requested A.S.A.P in the Board Room, Sir. You have a visitor."
**Part V**Severe Language Warnings
"What the hell are you doing here?" Jack demanded, the moment he stepped into the boardroom. "Teal'c, who let him
in here?"
"I am unable to enlighten you on that topic, O'Neill."
Senator Kinsey took his time turning from his perusal of the Stargate below. "General O'Neill," he said, mouth pursed
as though he'd been sucking lemons.
"You have two choices here; you can walk out, or you can be carried out by my SF's. What's it going to be?"
"As Chair of the Senate Appropriations Committee, I am here on official business. Your presence during a formal base
inspection is mandated by order of the President of the United States. As we have previously discussed, General, I am
a very busy man, my time is valuable. I would like to begin at once."
Jack crossed his arms over his chest. "Wal ...." He barely refrained from rolling his eyes as the file folder was thrust
into his hands, "ter. I really wish you'd quit doing that. How long has this been on my desk?"
"Twenty minutes, Sir. It is legitimate."
Jack skimmed the paperwork quickly. "What the hell is this about, Kinsey?"
"I believe it is self-explanatory, General; your budget is up for review." The Senator glanced at his watch. "I've
scheduled an hour for this process; shall we begin?" He brought his male aide-de-camp to his side with a flick of his
wrist.
"Carter," Jack greeted his 2IC genially as Carter appeared at the top of the stairs. "Glad you could join us. We're just
about to begin a base inspection with the good Senator here. You do recall he's chairman of the Appropriations
Committee?"
"Major," Kinsey acknowledged.
"It's Colonel now, Senator. Having been regretfully incapable of serving it's understandable you wouldn't recognize the
subtle difference in uniform." Sam's smile showed all her teeth. "Yes, Sir," she replied to Jack. "I doubt I'll ever forget
Senator Kinsey."
"Yeah; go make sure level nineteen is swept up. Wouldn't want the good Senator appalled by our cobwebby corridors.
And take T with you. We'll catch up. Top down, Senator? Or bottom up?"
"Cobwebs don't deter me; accompanying Colonel Carter and the Jaffa will be fine."
O'Neill shrugged. "You're in charge."
"So long as we're both clear on that, General." Kinsey swept out a hand as if he owned the place. "After you, Colonel
Carter."
"Walter - dammit. Would you at least let me get your name out?" Jack sighed. "I need a radio. We're headed to
nineteen; send an SF up with one."
Jack, bringing up the rear as the procession headed for the elevators, signed to Carter to lag behind and visit the
armory. A couple of precautionary zats would go a long way toward controlling any excursionary side trips the good
Senator might decide were necessary.
Kinsey strode off the elevator murmuring to his aide, who scurried along scribbling frantically on a yellow legal pad.
"You have a complete inventory, I assume, of the ordnance kept on base?" he glanced over his shoulder at the
General.
"I'll check with Chief Master Sergeant Harrriman," Jack shrugged. "First day on the job. I'm not really up to speed on
where we keep those memos."
"That will do. What else is on this floor?"
"Research labs, storage facilities; anything else?" Jack glanced at his teammates, both of whom were much more
familiar with the in and outs of the base than he was.
"Besides the armory - just labs, Sir."
"There you go, just labs."
"Let us proceed to the next level."
"Up or down?"
Kinsey consulted the list his aide held out. "Down."
"Down it is."
"It appears twenty is a conglomeration of more research labs and manufacturing venues. I see no reason to waste
time there," Kinsey tapped the button for twenty-one.
"Twenty-one is the main infirmary level. We've got a couple of quarantined sites you can't go into without risking
exposure, Senator. If I were you, I think I'd skip twenty-one all together. Wouldn't want to catch any of our alien
viruses."
"I hardly think a five-minute trip through the premises will affect me negatively, General," Kinsey pronounced
acerbically.
"By your command," Jack mumbled under his breath.
"General?"
"Senator?" Jack returned innocently. "We'll ask the Doctor to provide you with a mask; we wouldn't want to take any
foolish risks with your health, Sir."
"I doubt that will be necessary. I don't expect to be here long, General."
"Dr. Brightman." Jack pushed through the double doors into the main infirmary, catching Brightman returning to her
office. "I don't believe you've had the pleasure of meeting Senator Kinsey. He's here on a tour of the base, ostensibly
inspecting our facility in preparation for the upcoming appropriations hearings."
"I'd love the opportunity to speak to any of your patients, Dr. Brightman," the Senator smiled his oily, baby-kissing
smile. "Express my personal thanks for their service to their country; that kind of thing, you know ..." he trailed off,
actually winking at the prudish physician.
Behind him Sam barely refrained from poking her finger down her throat and making vomiting noises.
"I'm sorry, Senator ..." Brightman looked to Jack inquiringly.
"Kinsey," O'Neill supplied.
"Kinsey," Brightman continued as though she'd never stopped, "as you can see we don't have any patients currently.
General O'Neill runs such a tight ship, Sir, we hardly ever see patients in here anymore."
Jack's eyes widened in amused surprise; a sense of humor was the last thing he'd expected from the base CMO,
especially under the circumstances.
"Congratulations, General. An impressive record; for your first day on the job," Kinsey intoned. "Surely, Doctor, you
have one or two patients hidden away that I could speak with?"
"I do not, Senator," Brightman tried for a matching oily smile, though on her it came out just plain slimy. "I'm so sorry
we're unable to accommodate you."
Sarcasm too, O'Neill thought appreciatively. He glanced pretentiously at his watch. "You only have three quarters of
an hour left."
"According to the list, there are several pieces of equipment in the infirmary of questionable use. I would like to see
them."
"What list?" Carter asked.
"What equipment?" Doctor Brightman frowned.
"What the hell?" Jack tilted the list in the aide's hand, looking over his shoulder. "What the hell?" he repeated,
snatching the clipboard out the unsuspecting hands. In the instant it took his brain to process his suddenly aroused
suspicions, his insides turned to ice. Clipped to the clipboard were grainy security photos of a miniature Daniel in too
large safety glasses, kneeling on a stool beside a counter in what clearly was a lab.
"Sir?" Brightman reached towards him.
All color drained from Jack's face as Kinsey recognized his moment and smiled complacently.
"You mother-fucking, son-of-a-bitch," General O'Neill enunciated each syllable with precision. "It was you!"
Carter was staring at him like he'd lost his mind. Teal'c, however, was on the same page. He whipped the zat out of the
back of his belt and fired, except O'Neill knocked his arm up, discharging it harmlessly into the concrete ceiling. "Why
do you stop me, O'Neill?'
"After I'm done with him, you can shoot him. But first, I think we need to witness the effecting little scene he's got
planned for us when Daniel is reunited with the man he thinks is Jack O'Neill."
"What?!" Carter exclaimed. "Sir, not even Kinsey would sink that low."
"Oh, Colonel; you wound me. Sink? Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. I would sink to the very depths of hell itself to
do the Lord's work."
"And you promised retribution when Daniel found a way out for the Tollans. You didn't just take advantage of an
opportunity, you did this to him!" Jack sucked in air with difficulty, grinding his teeth in an effort to control the white hot
fury melting the ice in his veins. His face went from bone white to purple in the blink of an eye. The long fingers of both
hands stretched as though in anticipation of replacing the silk tie gracing the neck of the politician still standing smiling
beneficently on the stunned group.
"I warned you, Colonel."
"You fucked the wrong man, Kinsey," O'Neill said quietly. "I will take you to hell myself, even room with you if I have to,
but I'll take you down before I die. And it's General now, Senator. But let's just finish this little dnouement you've got
planned. Let me take you to Daniel; he's been expecting you."
"The Sheriff, along with several of his deputies, is waiting in the NORAD parking lot for me, General. Quit with the
posturing, give me my ward and I won't press charges for kidnapping."
"Let's just be clear here, you are talking about Daniel Jackson, correct?"
"Naturally," the Senator replied smugly. "And I assure you, he will want to go with me."
Carter was catching up. "You made Daniel believe you were ... "
"Carter!" O'Neill grabbed her by the collar as she flew at the Senator. "Not yet. You'll get your shot at him, but we don't
want to damage his face beyond recognition just yet."
"Sir?" A thin trickle of sweat was making its way down the aide's temple. He turned a panicked look on his boss.
Jack put a friendly hand on his shoulder. "Oh, if we kill you, we'll make it quick. You'll never know what hit you - well, it
does hurt a lot the first time you're hit with the zat, but after the second shot - you don't feel a thing. Third shot - not
even a body to worry about."
"Sir?" The aide stumbled and bounced off the wall into Kinsey, who shoved him away.
"They're employed by the United States government; they can hardly kill us, Gregory."
"What do you think, T?" Jack asked the Jaffa conversationally. "An alien incursion; we can hand over the body suitably
mauled? Or should I ... take a little longer over him and maybe in a few hours call the President and inform him that
the good Senator contracted some weird alien disease when he stopped by to visit the SGC this afternoon?"
"There are witnesses ..." Kinsey repeated, though his bravado was wearing thin in spots as he jerked a glance over
his shoulder, obviously expecting back-up.
Jack wondered if the omniscient Walter had taken care of that little problem.
"Your first mistake was taking Daniel. Your second mistake was keeping him. But that's not what's going to get you
killed, Senator. That would be your arrogance."
To his credit, the Senator's expression never changed, though Jack could see the wheels turning behind the shrewd
countenance.
"Give me my ward and I'll be on my way."
Jack slid his card through the reader to open the door to ISO 3. "Dead man walking," he chanted softly as he opened
the door and ushered Kinsey through. Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he sent Carter and Teal'c scurrying for the
observation deck, drew Brightman through with him and closed the door in the aide's face. "Dr. Jackson, I've brought
someone to see your skeletal remains."
"Go to hell."
"Ahhh, you're repeating yourself." Jack swished the toe of his boot through a pile of glittering sand that bore the
vague outline of a pyramid. "I see we forgot to take your shoes off."
"Go ahead. Try."
"What's wrong with him?" Kinsey demanded, standing well back from the huddled form under the sheets.
"Jack!" A blur of small shoulders, white bandage, and blue jeans shot from beneath the covers to launch at the
Senator. "Jack!" The small blur bounced off the impervious Kinsey and landed jarringly on his ass. "I knew you'd come
get me." Daniel scrambled up and latched on to one of the Senator's well-manicured hands. "I didn't tell them
anything. I swear."
Like rubber, O'Neill thought, unamused. "There is one way, and one way only you're getting off my base alive today -
Robert."
Kinsey turned his head to look at O'Neill. "Well then - Jack; we have the exact same agenda, as I was already planning
on telling him."
Daniel narrowed his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder at Jack. "That man said he was Jack O'Neill. But someone
said he's a General. I don't understand."
"Of course you don't." Kinsey freed himself from Daniel's grasp and stepped back, folding his arms over his chest.
"They don't know anything. I didn't tell them a thing," Daniel repeated, gripping his own small arms over his bare chest
as he gazed up at Kinsey in bewilderment. "What did I do wrong?"
The silver head cocked appraisingly. "What did you do wrong? Where would you like me to start with your list of sins,
Dr. Jackson?"
"What sins? I don't understand," the small blond head began to shake from side to side. "Why are you mad at me?"
Daniel swung on Jack. "Tell him. You tell him I didn't tell you anything. And I want my shirt back."
General O'Neill shoved his hands in the pockets of his BDU's. "He didn't tell us a thing, Senator. Wouldn't even tell us
how old he was until I threatened to have Teal'c break him in two if he lied to me again. Carter - get his shirt."
Daniel turned expectantly back toward Kinsey, actually took a step toward him again, except Kinsey shoved out a
hand as if to ward him off. "I cannot begin to tell you how I loathe the sight of you; how it makes my skin crawl to touch
you, even just to be around you."
Daniel hitched a breath, disbelief written large across his face. "But ... you said ... you told me ... I ..." He took another
step toward the Senator as the door opened behind Jack and Carter handed in the shirt. "I didn't ..." he began again,
only to be stopped by a jeering Kinsey.
"And you believed every word of it; that's what makes this revenge so sweet, Dr. Jackson. You believed every word of
it. For five years you've believed I was Jack O'Neill; the great protector, the almighty provider, the defender of truth,
justice and the American way. Well, I am all those things, Dr. Jackson; I'm just not Jack O'Neill. As for Captain Carter
and the Jaffa, Teal'c? They didn't abandon you on P3X-781 - they couldn't have, because you weren't on P3X-781."
"You said ..." The eyes dominated the small, pale face.
"In the interests of national security, I said a lot of things; just as I was told me a lot of things when I was trying my best
to secure this nation against the unfriendly Gould knocking at our door by investing a little time and effort in our new
allies, the Tollan."
"The Tollan?" Daniel repeated, confused. "But you said ... If you're not Jack O'Neill, who are you?"
Kinsey snorted. "I am a United States Senator and my name is Robert Kinsey. I am the Chairman of the Senate
Appropriations Committee and seven years ago, Dr. Jackson, you risked the lives of every person on this Earthy by
defying my command to detain the Tollans in this facility until such time as arrangements could be made for their
comfort and security off base while we negotiated with them for technology."
"As I recall, Senator, the Tollans repeatedly and vocally refused all your invitations, delivered via Maybourne, to
negotiate and you were planning to hold them hostage until they caved and gave up their technology willingly or not,"
Jack put in.
"You are mistaken, O'Neill."
"You've called him that lots of times already. Is he really Jack O'Neill?" Daniel demanded, pointing a finger at Jack.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, he is Jack O'Neill, the real perpetrator of this little scenario playing out. I swore I would right
the wrong done here; I would conquer the injustice perpetrated on the American people; I would ..."
"Exactly how does kidnapping someone and turning them into a child conquer evil and injustice, Kinsey?" Jack
interrupted coldly. "Tell him what you did."
Kinsey eyed the General a bit warily. "I didn't do anything. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time to ...
shall we say, influence, certain parties to work toward a different end than originally intended. I probably saved his life,
O'Neill."
"I can't even think of anything slimy enough to call you," Jack snapped. "Come here and let me help you put your shirt
on, Daniel."
"You said ... you told me ... " Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, but didn't move from where he stood. "I still don't
understand ..." He was quivering like a trapped wild thing.
Jack went to him.
"Don't touch me!" Daniel whispered hoarsely, yanking his hand away as Jack grasped it to put it through the shirt
sleeve. He stumbled back, away from both Jack and Kinsey, `til his feet tangled and tripped him into the bed frame.
A simultaneous clang and a yelp had Brightman and Jack leaping for him as Daniel smacked down hard on hands and
knees.
"Leave me alone! I hate you! I hate all of you! Just leave me alone!" Daniel jerked away from Jack, kicking savagely as
he dropped on his ass and fell back against Brightman. "Leave me alone!"
"You're bleeding." Dr. Brightman ignored the kicking, flaying limbs and grabbed his chin. "Stop, Daniel, let me look at
your forehead."
"Don't touch me," the child shrieked, smacking his head on the bed frame again as he wrenched away from
Brightman. "Leave me alone, just leave me alone." Daniel dragged his knees up to his chest and wrapped both arms
around them, burying his face.
"I believe I've accomplished what I came for, General. I'll be on my way now."
Daniel rebounded to his feet as Kinsey reached the just opening door. "Don't leave me. I don't care if you lied. Don't
leave me here!" He threw himself at the Senator, who again put out a hand to ward him off. A hand Kinsey pulled back
covered with blood.
"My business here is done," he said calmly, drawing a handkerchief from his pocket. He serenely wiped his hand
clean, smiled at a disbelieving Daniel, deposited the now bloody rag on top of the portable EKG and closed the door
behind himself.
"Jack!" Daniel howled, body slamming the door. "Don't leave me here! Please!" He grabbed the handle with both small
hands, yanking desperately. Panicked, he glanced over his shoulder, and the real Jack got a glimpse of bone white
features garishly painted with blood red streaks before Daniel turned back, plastering himself to the door, slamming
his fists repeatedly against the steel surface.
Brightman started toward him only to be stopped by a curt, "No," from her superior officer.
"Sir," she whispered plaintively. "I ..."
"No," Jack said again, clenching his jaw as he crossed his own arms over his chest to keep from reaching out to his
small friend. His knuckles were white by the time Daniel slid down the door in a boneless heap fifteen minutes later.
"No," he snapped, when Brightman again started forward. He did not dare look up, knowing if Carter had not followed
Teal'c and was watching this, she'd likely zat him herself the moment he stepped out of this room.
It was another tense fifteen minutes before Daniel finally stirred. He said nothing, only shoved himself up on hands
and knees, swayed slightly, then pushed up `til he was kneeling, keeping himself upright with a hand on the door.
Jack watched his gaze sweep the room `til he caught sight of his shirt on the bed. Rather than getting up though,
Daniel dropped back down on his hands and knees and crawled across the room, dragging himself up by the bed
frame long enough to grab his shirt before sinking back down on the floor. Instead of putting it on, he used it to wipe
the blood out of his eyes. "What do you want with me?" he ground out, dabbing at a split lip as well.
"Nothing."
When Jack said nothing more, the small face lifted to glare at him. "Yeah right. I've been around enough to know
everybody has an agenda."
"Will you let Doctor Brightman clean you up and see if you need stitches?"
"No."
"Okay. Doc, I'm sure you're got better things to do than hang around here waiting for the half-pint to make up his mind
what he's going to do." Jack ambled over and sat down on the bed, pulling a knee up and clasping his hands around it
as he leaned back against the concrete wall. "Go on, Doc. Carter, find Teal'c and tell him he has to zat that piece a
shit at least three times so we don't have to worry about the body. But not until he's beat the crap out of the
sonuvabitch."
"Sir ..." the intercom squawked.
"Stand down, Colonel," Jack said mildly, turning his head to stare fiercely at his 2IC. "Oh, and before you let him go,
tell him his ass is grass if he ever steps foot inside the Mountain again. All bets are off." No way was Kinsey ever
getting his hands on Daniel again; not if Jack had to take the kid and move off world. There were any number of
places they could find sanctuary, though the galaxy was no longer the vast, unexplored, uncharted territory it had
been five years ago when Daniel had disappeared. He looked back at the boy, sitting cross-legged on the floor with
his head in his hands, then back up at Carter, who had pressed her hand flat to the window, her gaze focused on the
bent blond head. "Now, Carter."
He saw her mouth the words yes, Sir, before turning on her heel and stomping down the stairs. It was only his
imagination that had the angry, booted footsteps stopping briefly outside the door, then purposefully moving on again.
He imagined she'd stopped and spread her hand on the door too, channeling all the love and affection she could
possibly divert to Daniel through that imprint on the door. Jack closed his eyes. He was determined to wait out the
miniature archeologist if took until he retired again.
The entire staff of the Mountain had paraded through the observation room before the stubborn little shit gave in.
"I have to go to the bathroom."
"Okay, I'll show you where it is." Jack got to his feet, knees loudly protesting their long disuse.
"What's that?" Daniel clambered to his feet as well, fisting a hand in the blanket as he swayed again.
"Just my knees. You okay?"
"I'm fine," though the answer came through gritted teeth.
Jack said nothing more, merely led the way to the door, rapped his knuckles and pulled the door open when it clicked.
"Left," he said, and pointed down the hall. "You'll recognize the universal sign, I'm sure."
Daniel was back well within the five minute time frame Jack had allotted when he'd let him go alone. He'd washed the
blood from his face and had a wet paper towel pressed to his split lip. He'd also put on his gory, blood encrusted shirt.
But the gash above his right eye had closed over and looked more like a welting bruise than a cut. Jack inspected it
as Daniel passed him and decided against pressing the issue. It didn't look like it needed stitches.
"Hungry?" Jack inquired, letting go of the door as Daniel scuttled past him, rather like a crab trying to avoid capture.
"No."
"Tired?"
Daniel shot a look of loathing over his shoulder as he climbed up on the bed. "No. Why don't you go do something
important?"
"I am doing something important."
"What? Trying to wear me down?"
"Is it working?"
"I'm not telling you anything."
"I don't need you to tell me anything anymore. I've got most of the story; there are only one or two details missing and
it doesn't take a rocket scientist to fill them in."
"Then what are you doing here still?"
"Just keeping you company."
"I don't need company."
"You never did need company, but occasionally you let me keep you company anyway."
"I don't want company either."
"Well now, see, that's gonna be a problem, `cause I can pretty much guarantee you're gonna have a shadow, waking
or sleeping, for the foreseeable future."
"I want to go home."
"This is your home, Daniel."
"I don't remember this place at all," he said, irrefutably.
"Yeah, I got that message loud and clear. That's one of the fuzzy details; how the hell did Kinsey manage to brainwash
you so completely."
"He didn't," Daniel replied mutinously.
In response, Jack raised an eyebrow. "Feel like taking a walk?"
"No."
"Gonna' spend the rest of your life here in this ISO room?"
"Maybe. You left me alone in here before. What's the big deal now?"
"That was before I realized Kinsey had a hand in this," Jack made a concerted effort not to snarl.
"Why ..." Daniel trailed off. Picking up the pillow, he hugged it to his impossibly small chest.
Jack closed his eyes briefly; the pillow was practically bigger than Daniel. "Why what?"
"Why would he lie to me like that? I don't ... understand." Daniel put his head down on the pillow, sighing wearily. "Who
are the Toll-ans?"
Jack rapped his knuckles on the door again. "Bring down one of the chairs from the observation deck, please." He
waited at the door as the SF went to collect a chair. "Thanks." He rolled it into the room and sat down back to front,
crossing his arms over the back. "We accidentally ran across the Tollans when we gated to a planet in the middle of a
volcanic event. We found them half buried in ash around the Gate and hauled them back here, only to discover, much
like you, they were very ungrateful to be rescued."
"I didn't need rescuing."
"Yes, well, Omoc didn't seem to think the Tollans needed rescuing either. Carter says Narim believed differently, but
that's neither here nor there. The Tollans were one of the more advanced races we've encountered, despite the fact
they've since gotten themselves wiped off the face of the galaxy."
"Why would he want ..." Daniel slid further down on the bed so he was lying down, curled around the pillow, his back to
Jack. "Why would he want me to think ... he was you?"
"That's complicated, Daniel."
"I'm not stupid," the kid snapped.
"No, no one could ever accuse you of being stupid."
"I've already worked out that I did something he didn't like ... before ..." the shoulder flirted again. "Before this
happened to me."
"You remember before?"
"No."
Jack put his chin down on his arms. "If you're so smart, why haven't you figured out I'm <i>not</i> the bad guy here?"
"You're sadly mistaken if you think you're the good guy." The childish voice was a distinct contrast to the scathing tone
and adult words. "You may think you rescued me," Daniel rolled over, abandoning the pillow, "from my perspective you
just ripped me from the only home and people I've ever known. And then acted like I was the one on trial."
"Uhm," Jack grunted. "Looks bad from that perspective."
"Ya think?"
"Oh for cryin' out loud, he even taught you my idioms?"
"Go away. I just want to be left alone."
Jack sighed. "Then we just have to dance this dance tomorrow. Why not get it over with today?"
"Because I won't be here tomorrow and I'm not telling you anything."
"Planning on leaving us in the middle of the night?"
"If I'm lucky it won't even take that long." Daniel flipped back over, curling around the pillow again.
Something odd in the tone of voice set off Jack's internal alarms. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked sharply.
"Nothing," Daniel mumbled.
Threats had never worked with Daniel, they'd only made him dig his heels in deeper, a trait that had obviously
regressed right along with his stature. O'Neill sighed again. "What would it take for you to believe we are who we say
we are and you are who we say you are?"
"You're missing the point," Daniel replied lethargically. "I don't care."
"Okay, what's it gonna take to make you care?"
"Not in your power," Daniel said cryptically.
Jack ground his teeth. The adrenalin in his system was dissipating rapidly, leaving behind the usual vague headache
and sluggish processing time. How the heck had he ever gotten around the adult archeologist?
If Kinsey and Maybourne both had been in on the project, then there had to be more documentation. Maybe
something in the reams and reams of paper they'd brought back? Jack scooted his chair over to the phone on the far
wall. "Walter. Unless Carter is still working over Kinsey, I need her back down here ASAP."
Part VI
Good morning, Senator Kinsey. You are looking at picture of SG-1, the premiere team of an organization based out of
Cheyenne Mountain, under NORAD, in Colorado Springs, Colorado. This team travels regularly to other planets and
has met some of the fiercest enemies Earth will ever know. The man second from the left is a civilian scientist, Doctor
Daniel Jackson. Your mission, Senator, should you decide to accept it, is to acquire and hide this man for the next five
years, erasing all traces of his existence from the face of the Earth. Further, in agreeing to under take this mission,
you will develop a method with which to brainwash this brilliant scientist and substitute his memories of the people in
his life with impersonations. Having accomplished this mission, you will then seek opportunities to reveal this
information not only to the principal party involved, but to his former colleagues as well. As always, should you or any
of your NID forces be caught or killed, we will disavow all knowledge of these proceedings. This tape will self-destruct
in five seconds. Good luck, Senator.
Jack caught himself staring blankly at the concrete wall. He'd lost his place. He shook his head, cutting off the
remnants of the Mission Impossible theme still repeating over and over in his mind, and moved his gaze back up to the
top block on the left hand side of the room. One, two, three ...
How had Kinsey managed to coerce an entire team of people into participating in his diabolical scheme? Too many of
the employee's at Area 51 knew Daniel, or at least knew of him. It just didn't add up.
Dammit; he'd lost track again.
What was it Kinsey had said - he hadn't done it purposely, merely been in the right place at the right time; maybe even
saved Daniel's life; that NID had been the perpetrator?
Okay. So if you're going to lie, mix in just enough truth to make it sound credible. So then the NID probably had been
involved - at Kinsey's instigation. And the NID had had access to Asgard beaming technology.
Yeah, the Asgards kept pretty close track of their technology - still, it had come to the SGC's attention that even the
Asgards had rogue independents traveling the galaxy without the knowledge of their leaders.
It was a possibility, but that still didn't speak to the downsizing of Daniel Jackson.
A poorly backwards engineered beam? A purposely re-engineered beam? But why make him smaller? Why not just
kidnap Daniel, alter his memories and ... because a thirty-five-year-old Daniel Jackson would never have been
compliant. A child, on the other hand, was a much more malleable tool; easier to manipulate, less difficult to control.
Especially over the life of a plan that took five years to come to fruition.
Surely they hadn't developed this technology just to use on Daniel. What other applications could it be it used for?
Jack shook his head again; this was so not his territory. He needed Carter. Abandoning his count of the blocks in the
concrete wall, he scooted over to the phone just as a tap on the door alerted them both.
Daniel curled tighter around the pillow.
Jack turned expectantly toward the door.
"Sir?" Instead of Carter, Paul Davis stood on the threshold. "I've found something you're going to want to look at. Do
you want to step out in the hall?"
"We're not withholding information from Daniel, Major. What have you found?"
"Just this, Sir." Davis handed over several sheets of paper covered on both sides with what appeared to be equations,
except the equations were alphabetical rather than numeric.
"Do you really expect me to know what I'm looking at?" Jack barely lifted his head, though his eyes sought the Major's
skeptically.
"Sir, I think this may have something to do with how they downsized Daniel and perhaps - how they're keeping him
small."
"You're joking." Jack snatched back the papers he'd almost handed over. "DNA strands," he remarked, turning the
paper sideways, reframing the puzzle.
"Yes, Sir. And some of them are a perfect match to Daniel's. I think it may be some kind of genetic code. It's just a
hunch, General; Dr. Brightman or Colonel Carter should be able to confirm this, but if it's what I think it is and we can
figure out the patterns, we may be able to reverse whatever it is they've done to him. It might just be a matter of
breaking the code, Sir."
"Do you imagine they haven't been trying to figure this out for the last five years?" Daniel's light, high voice was
muffled, though the scorn came through loud and clear.
Jack closed his eyes momentarily. "For five years ..." he began, then paused, looking helplessly at Davis.
"I know, Sir," the man mouthed silently. "He's not making this any easier is he?"
Jack snorted. "You got that right, Major." On a sigh, he added, "For five years, Daniel, someone manipulated your
mind to the point that you believed Robert Kinsey was Jack O'Neill. I get that something's still wrong. But if you won't
tell us what it is, how can we possibly help you."
Daniel flung himself over, eyes brimming, anger simmering behind the tears. "I don't want to live. Are you really that
stupid or are you just trying to play with my mind too?"
Jack spread his hands, palms out. "What have we done to make you think we're messing with your mind? And why
wouldn't you want to live?"
For several long seconds Daniel just stared at him. A single tear escaped, tricking down his nose; he wiped it away
with the back of his hand. "That blonde lady - earlier - she said her name was Sam."
"Yeah?" Jack prompted. "Samantha Carter. What about her?" Surely nothing Carter had said or done could be
misconstrued as messing with his mind.
"I know her."
Rocky ground here. "Okay. You certainly used to know her. Do you mean you remember her?"
"I do. I remember her because she smelled ..."
"Probably like dirty gym socks after the day we've had," Jack inserted when it appeared Daniel was stalled again.
"Familiar," the kid decided after another moment. "She smelled familiar."
Scent, Jack was well aware, could be a powerful memory enhancer. He'd experienced his own potent scent de'ja'vu
the moment he'd picked Daniel up in that lab; the smell of child pheromones had awakened a layer of memories
deeply buried in his psyche. The warm, fresh smell of just bathed child as he bent to kiss his own son goodnight a
thousand years ago; the mingled smell of sweat and baby shampoo as he pulled Charlie into his arms after an hour of
pitching and hitting in the big, sunny backyard of the home he'd shared with Sara and their son.
"Okay," Jack repeated, "so how was that messing with your mind?"
"She left me on that planet. She and that big black man that was in here with her. I don't remember his name, but they
left me behind on that planet and no one is supposed to get left behind. Yet she's in here trying to be all cuddly with
me and make me think she's missed me."
Jack turned and handed the sheaf of papers back over to Davis. "See if Dr. Lee is in the Mountain. If he's not, have
Walter get him back in here immediately. Get Brightman and I'll send Carter as soon as I've spoken to her. Once
you've handed that off, as long as the Pentagon hasn't recalled you, have Walter pull together a team to help you go
through all that shit we hauled back here."
"Yes, Sir. And, I'm here for the duration, Sir."
"Good. Dismissed, Major." Without waiting for a response, the General turned back to his half-pint archeologist. "I'm
sorry, Daniel, there is no way to be kind about this. What you remember and what actually happened are obviously
two very different things."
"I remember that clearly," Daniel shot back hotly.
"And you clearly remember that Robert Kinsey is Jack O'Neill," Jack stated flatly.
Daniel pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning back on his hands. "There are some things I remember that
aren't lies."
"What?"
Taken back, he hesitated, then said softly. "I remember that I'm a lot older than five."
Both Jack's eyebrows rose. "Is that one of the things Kinsey told you not to tell anyone?"
"What if it is?"
"Why didn't he want you to tell?"
"Because it was a secret," Daniel snapped.
"Why was it a secret? You worked at a top secret facility; anybody you worked with would have had the security
clearance to have access to that information."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I'm very familiar with the work that goes on at Area 51. Most of the things we've collected on our missions go
to Area 51."
"Like what?"
"Doohickey's and thingamabobs," Jack replied promptly.
Daniel rolled his eyes and slumped back against the pillow. "How'd you ever get to be a general."
"Accident of birth?" O'Neill suggested wryly. "We've kind of gotten off topic here. Let's get back to Carter. You said
you remembered her. What do you remember?"
Daniel draped his bandaged arm over his eyes. "I remember that she left me behind on P3X 781."
"What else?"
"Why?"
"That's an old trick, Daniel."
"What do you mean?" Daniel moved his arm just enough to peer at the General.
"You always used to ask me why when you didn't have an answer."
"I did?" He rolled over, away from O'Neill. "No, I didn't."
"Did too."
"Did not."
"Did too. You used to do this to me all the time too. What else do you remember about Carter?"
Daniel turned back over. Shoving his hands under his cheek, he eyed Jack for several long moments. "I would like
some time to ... process this ... turn of events," he said slowly, sounding very much like his grown-up self.
O'Neill tilted his head thoughtfully. "Okay, that's a reasonable request. How long do you think you're gonna need?"
Daniel shrugged almost imperceptibly. "Maybe ... `til morning?"
"Hmmm," Jack gave it due consideration. "Now see, if I didn't think you were still holding back something vital, I'd
probably agree to that. But bearing in mind the hints you've been dropping, I'm thinking that wouldn't be a very wise
decision on my part. On the other hand," he continued, holding up a finger when Daniel would have interrupted, "if
you'd like to tell me what it is you're holding back, I'll consider it."
"You just told me nothing I remember is true, so if I was holding something back, it obviously can't be important."
Trumped, Jack thought, shaking his head mentally. Externally all he did was prop his chin in his hand. "Well, if that's
the way you want to play it - okay."
"Why do you even care?" Daniel sighed impatiently.
"Umm, think we've been over this ground before, but maybe a five-year-old doesn't remember as well as a
forty-year-old. You're my best friend, Daniel; you don't just jump ship on your best friend because he doesn't
remember you." Jack leaned forward and unable to stop himself, reached out to brush the matted, blood soaked hair
from Daniel's forehead. "We were on a recon mission on P3X 781, poking around in some old ruins when one minute
you were standing beside me and the next you weren't. There was a whine, a flash of light and a hail of arrows and
you weren't there anymore."
An initial abortive move to rid himself of Jack's hand failed and Daniel stilled, eyes widening as the hand slid down to
curve around the back of his neck. "I don't want you to touch me," he whispered, frowning, though instinctively he
turned his head to rub his cheek against the fingers. "I don't remember arrows, but I remember the rest."
Very gently, and without asking permission, Jack slid an arm under the jean-clad knees, scooped the kid off the bed
onto his lap and cradled Daniel against his chest. "What do you remember?"
"I don't want this," Daniel repeated, small hands fisting in Jack's tee-shirt.
Jack loosed his hold enough Daniel could easily slide out of his arms and began to rock; again - very gently. "Tell me
what you remember," he said quietly.
"I ..." The fingers clenched spasmodically, digging into tender flesh beneath the shirt.
Jack didn't even flinch.
"I ... remember the light," Daniel said guardedly, "and the sound. I remember someone screaming - we have to go, we
have to go. I think it was that blonde lady. My head hurt ... a lot. I think maybe ... maybe I lost consciousness then."
"What else?" Jack asked quietly.
" Jack ... at least that man who said he was ... Jack ... was there when I woke up."
"Where? On P3X-781?"
"I don't know. My head still hurt ... real bad."
"Did you go through the Stargate again?"
"I don't think so. But maybe I was too sick to know. Maybe we did. When I woke up again ... it was like this."
"You mean the first time you woke up, you were still an adult?"
"I don't know; I don't know. I think so, but maybe not."
"Shhhhh," Jack soothed, running a hand up and down the fragile spine. "It's okay, buddy."
"I don't understand ..." Daniel sighed, burrowing like a little mole into the safety of Jack's arms. "Why would he ... why
would he do this to me? He had medicine; he said if I didn't take it every day I would die. He left without giving it to me.
Does he ... hate me ... that much?"
Finally, they'd come to the root of his fear; this had to be what he'd been holding back. But how could this child
comprehend hate like that when their adult Daniel would have had a hard time grasping the full extent of Kinsey's
treachery? All the dark places in Daniel's soul were of another's making; evil might touch him, but it could not taint him.
Which was not to say he didn't understand it; it just never stopped him. Not even the death of his wife at the hands of
the man who had chosen her to be a host had slowed their quixotic teammate for long.
Jack tightened his hold, resting his cheek against the grimy hair. "I don't know what to tell you about that, Daniel. The
truth is yes, he does hate us that much. We thwarted his grand scheme and because you were the only civilian of the
bunch of us, you couldn't be court-martialed. You helped the Tollans contact the Nox. You were the one who faced
down the guns and refused to move when Maybourne ordered the Marines to open fire. You just stood and looked at
him when he threatened to have you removed from the Stargate program. You made him look like the ass he is -
which was probably the most grievous of your crimes as far as he's concerned. But more than that, the man is a petty,
small-minded bureaucrat with just enough power to make him a menace. Obviously we under-estimated him; and
you've just paid for our stupidity with five years of your life."
"Do you think he was lying?"
`Probably not,' Jack thought angrily, but kept his face bland. "It very well could be, but even if it is true, we'll figure
something out. We're not going to let you die tonight, or tomorrow night, or the night after, or the night after, or the
night after, or ...."
Daniel giggled so softly Jack felt rather than heard it. "Jaaaaack."
Moving one hand to tickle lightly, Jack added, "After that we'll have to see, it depends on how good you are."
"Jaaaackkk!" Daniel squirmed against the tickling fingers, desperately trying to repress the giggles frothing inside him.
"Oh yeah, you're definitely our Daniel," Jack pronounced, "I could always get you to confess your latest machinations
just by tickling you."
"That's not true."
"How do you know?" Jack stopped tickling and cuddled the small body close again.
"I don't remember you ever tickling me." Daniel snuggled down as well, sighing once more, but this time it was with a
touch of satisfaction.
"That's the other Jack you're thinking of. I used to tickle you all the time."
"Uhn uh."
"Uh huh."
"No you didn't."
"Carter too, and Teal'c."
"Now I know you're lying."
"Yeah? Isn't that interesting ... you've retained the ability to figure out when you're being lied to, even after five years
of being forced to live a lie."
That bought a moment of full, complete silence; then the small head tilted up. "You don't think it was my fault this
happened to me?"
"No," Jack stated emphatically, "I do not think what happened to you was your fault. Why would you think that?"
Instead of answering, Daniel responded with a question of his own. "Did you used to yell at me a lot for touching things
I shouldn't?"
"Uhm ... would you believe me if I said no? If I said I never, ever yelled at you?"
"No."
"Smart kid. Want to go for three out of three?"
"I told you some things I remember aren't a lie." There was more than a touch of satisfaction in the voice this time,
though it was tempered with a nestling shift of weight as Daniel made himself more comfortable.
"Yes, you did," Jack admitted. "Now, about that memory of Carter ..."
"Even though I was thinking bad things about her while she was holding me, I didn't mind that she was holding me.
Maybe," the small busy fingers were twisting a button on Jack's jacket now, as the obviously thirty-nine-year-old brain
worked at the contradiction. "Maybe some part of me knew that memory wasn't right?" Daniel looked up again, hope
now spelled out clearly on the elfin features.
"Probably," Jack affirmed without any difficulty. "I'm guessing that all your real memories are still in there somewhere."
"Really?" Daniel sat up eagerly. "All of them?"
"If they are, we have access to a memory device that can help you get them back, if you want."
"Then can you make me big again too?"
"That might be a little more of a challenge. But we're already working on it. The Tok'ra already have memory recall
devices - but I have to warn you, it hurts a little to begin with."
"I don't care if it hurts a lot. When can we do it? I want to remember everything; all of it. And maybe if I remember
everything, there will be something to help make me big again, right?" Daniel bounced excitedly. "Do you think that's
possible ... Jack?" Though his name came out tentatively, there was nothing tentative about the arms that clasped
tightly around his neck, nor the urgency of the small body pressed snugly to his chest. "Can we do it right now,
please?"
"We'll try to do it tonight, that's all I can promise. We have to contact the Tok'ra and see if Jacob is available. Plus
there are some other things we need to do before I'll even think about letting them attach one of those things to your
head; starting with having Dr. Brightman make sure there's nothing else wrong with you. Okay?"
"I don't like her. Where's that other lady? The short one with pretty eyes?" Daniel looked up speculatively. "She had
eyes like yours. Were you related to her?"
It was so out of the blue, Jack felt like he'd been sucker punched. "No," he replied, softening the curt answer with a
quick squeeze. "And she's not here anymore. Do you remember Dr. Warner?"
Daniel shook his head. "I don't think so."
"Well, Dr. Brightman's here and we can get this over and done with quickly. So let's call Dr. Brightman right now."
"I don't want to."
Jack, in the act of reaching for the phone, lowered his arm. "Okay," he agreed, keeping his tone carefully neutral as
he snugged both arms back around the child. "We can put this off as long as you want, but I can't contact the Tok'ra
until Dr. Brightman or Dr. Warner has checked you out."
"Can't - or won't?"
"Ahhh," Jack tched, "you got me. I won't. Because I won't let them subject you to any more alien technology until I'm
sure you're physically able to handle it. I've been looking for you for five years, Daniel. I'm not going to let anything
happen to you now that I can prevent. I know you don't like the exams; none of us do, but it's a small price to pay for
security a