FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH SERIES
~A Series of Unfortunate Events~
by iiiieyes
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Author's Notes: Ahhh, someone else has discovered my secret and I now have to share Darcy as my beta, but I knew as soon as other
people found out how great she is at this, they'd be lining up on her doorstep begging her to beta their stuff. A) She only does LD fics and
B) You're gonna have to pay her in real money now if you want her to beta anything for you, because I'v just assumed the role of her
agent and you have to go through me to get her beta services. <BEG> Darcy, you da the one who rocks, girlfriend! And now, besides
endless gratitude to Darcy, I want to add many, many thanks to the Heartsisters, who read this as a WIP and gave faithful and endless
encouragement; Dev, Jo, Babs, Amy, Deb, and Darcy too, love you guys! And Deej . here's to you and the mermaid sisterhood; this fic
came from your question, what would happen if Jack took a desk job .
~~~~~~~~~~
I really hate when a beautiful day gets shot to hell like this. We're five minutes from the Gate and safety when they hit
us; full bore, nothing held back.
"Carter! I thought you said this planet was uninhabited!"
While we may have superior fire power, they outnumber us five to one. It's not impossible odds, but it doesn't looks
like we're going to make it out of here unscathed.
"There were no signs of human habitation, Sir!"
"They look human to me, Carter! Ramsey! Can we talk?"
Jesus, Joseph and Mary! Guess that would be a `no' since he just went down.
Where the hell did they come from? It's like they just ringed down, but they're not Jaffa, and the weaponry I'm hearing
is not up to the usual Goa'uld standards.
"Teal'c!" Ramsey's behind me and I've got to cover Carter in front of me.
Damn! The older I get, the harder it is to run and yell at the same time, especially running forward while looking
backward. Something whistles over me as I jolt to my knees; my head's telling me something's broken, but the
adrenalin pouring into my body overrides pain sensory perception. I'm up and running, changing clips with a hand
that's suddenly bloody, but I don't feel a thing.
I don't know what we've done to tick off the powers that be, but Lemony Snicket has nothing on us. This will be the
third in our series of unfortunate events, starting with Daniel's appendicitis.
"Teal'c!" I'm doing a 360, wondering if I need to go back for Ramsey, I was sure Teal'c was still behind me. "Where
the hell are you?!"
I hear the rapid fire of a staff weapon as Teal'c lurches out of the tree line, still firing backwards into the brushy cover.
I see him do a snatch and grab on Ramsey without slowing down and I turn to cover Carter again.
She's still hugging the east tree line, hoping, I assume, to get to the DHD unnoticed.
Fat chance, but I lay down cover fire anyway.
Shit, shit, shit! This is so turning out to be a bad day.
I'm ejecting another empty clip at a dead run, slapping a new one into the chamber and my P-90 is having a
conversation with Carter's, both of them chattering incessantly.
"Carter!"
Jesus! She staggers and I can see blood from here, but she makes it to the DHD and damned if she doesn't get the
wormhole open as she collapses at the base of the DHD, her jacket blossoming more gruesome stains.
"Colonel, you're bleeding," she croaks as I drag her up, slinging her arm over my shoulder.
"On your feet, Major. We're going home!"
"GDO code, Sir," she chokes out, blood foaming on her lips.
I twist us, grab her wrist, point at the blue puddle, punch in what I think is the code and hope to hell its right because
we're going through.
"Get Daniel out of the Gate room! We're taking heavy fire!" I'm screaming into my radio as I glance back over my
shoulder. "TEAL'C!"
We'll never know what hit us if the iris isn't open, as opposed to dying in a blaze of glory here on the steps of the
Stargate on some totally alien planet.
"Go, O'Neill!"
"Dammit, Teal'c!"
Teal'c stumbles as he's hit, again, and I grab his out flung arm as we fall into the wormhole. I hope to God I have the
strength to drag him far enough in for the matter stream to catch all of us.
And then we're falling out the other side, staggering over each other; Teal'c going to one knee; Ramsey doing a nose
dive as Teal'c lists sideways; Carter slipping from my loose hold.
My lips form the words `close the iris', but I don't think there's any sound. I see Daniel's horrified face, hear the clatter
of his miniature boots as he races up the ramp; I'm conscious just long enough to see the horrified look melt into
surprise as an energy bolt zings through the wormhole, slamming him against the railing, before my world goes black.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Daniel?" I'm not certain I get the name out, but a face appears instantly in my line of sight. "Doc?" I blink hard, trying
to bring her into focus and repeat Daniel's name. Someone's squeezing my hand ... must be Frasier. Hammond's
standing at the foot of the bed.
Oh God, no ... can't handle it.
I slide back into oblivion.
~~~~~~~~~~
I don't want to surface again.
Can't remember why, but for some reason I'm anchored here in the dark just below any kind of sensory perception,
awash in grey ... a persistent swirling mist that refuses to be banished.
And then for a moment, it lifts and I feel ... something. I can't identify what, though a measure of relief floods through
me, and I sink back into the mist, but this time a path appears and I know when I wake again, I can follow it home.
I'm able to drift off almost comfortably, despite all the aches and pains making themselves known with a vengeance,
because ... I don't know ... somehow, it's all right.
~~~~~~~~~~
A heavy warmth on my right side shifts a little as I wind my way up the path.
I recognize the beacon shining brightly up ahead. Yep, that would be Frasier's penlight; her thumb that won't let me
close my eye against the damn thing.
"Colonel?"
The warmth along my right side shifts again and I hear a cough.
"Daniel?"
"Take it easy, Colonel," Janet's voice; I can hear the smile. "He's asleep still, Sir."
The penlight makes inroads on my other eye.
How come rank doesn't matter here in the infirmary? How come I can't tell her to get the hell out of my face? She's
only a major, for cryin' out loud.
"You know the drill, Sir. How many fingers am I holding up?"
I squint blearily at the hand she's waving in front of my face, blink again, reach up to steady it and miss completely.
"Five?" At least it can't be more than that.
"Umm," Frasier acknowledges. "What's your name?"
"O'Neill, Jack, Colonel, serial number ..."
"Thank you, Sir," she interrupts. "How are you feeling?
"Daniel's okay?" I reach with my free hand ... except it's not free, must be tethered to an IV since a new irritant blooms
on the back of that hand.
I just need to touch him. So I try with the other hand. I think that's a small, scrub clad knee I'm curling my fingers
around.
"He'll be fine, Colonel. He has an adult sized headache and he broke an arm when that energy weapon slammed him
into the railing, but he wouldn't rest until we let him lie down with you, Sir. I can probably move him now ..."
"No!" I don't even let her finish the sentence. "Leave him be." The weight on my chest must be his arm - in a cast.
"Carter? Teal'c?" I make an effort to raise my head and look around, but Janet's cool hand on my forehead easily
negates any choice I have in the matter.
"Lie still, Colonel. Teal'c is just across the aisle."
I sigh gratefully.
"Dr. Warner is still working on Sam in the OR."
I hear a heart monitor speed up, though it takes a moment to realize it's the one attached to me.
"She took a couple of nasty hits, but she's going to be fine too. How's your pain level?"
Pain? What pain? Daniel's here in the bed with me, Teal'c's across the aisle and Carter's gonna be okay. "Ramsey?"
Frasier hesitates and I groan, but the heart monitor remains steady. I'm not invested in Ramsey like I am the rest of
my team, though if I loose another civilian I may get busted back to private.
On a sigh Frasier says, "He'll live, Colonel, but there was extensive spinal cord damage. It's going to be a wait and
see game whether he walks again."
Ramsey doesn't have a single ounce of Daniel's grit and determination. If it's up to him whether he walks again or not,
I guarantee it ain't gonna happen.
Of course, we'll rally round and do everything we can, but we can't do it for him.
I shift a little, trying to get a better look at Daniel.
"Sir, I really need you to lie still. If Daniel's weight is bothering you, I'll have to move him. I don't want you tearing open
stitches."
Stitches?
"We had to dig a couple rounds of ammunition out of you too, Sir."
Did I say that out loud?
She fiddles with something just out of my range of vision.
"No, don't ... dammit, Doc, I don't need pain ..."
Meds. A prickly warmth is crawling up the inside of my arm like a caterpillar; the tickle of a thousand tiny feet march
straight up to my brain, chew through a couple of main circuits and the lights start going out one by one.
I can't remember what I wanted to say, though I resist the heavy pull of my eyelids long enough to slide my hand up to
the small of Daniel's back and curve an arm around him; snug that solid, warm weight against me.
Stitches can be replaced. The feel of my kid stretched out against my side as I slide back into oblivion ... can't ...
Can't what?
Remember.
Remember what?
~~~~~~~~~~
When I wake again, for the ... third? No, fourth time, I think, the lights are low and that solid, warm weight is missing.
The infirmary whirls, a kaleidoscope of grey floor and walls and blankets, as I sit up too fast. I have time to register
the lighting is in night mode before the heart monitor kicks into high gear.
On cue, the nurse appears. "Colonel?" She puts a hand on my shoulder in an effort to make me lie down again. Not
likely when I'm in panic mode.
"What happened to Daniel?"
"Doctor Frasier moved him over to the next bed." She steps aside, but I'm so dizzy now, I don't dare turn my head.
"He was getting restless and she was afraid he would disturb you, Sir. He's still sound asleep."
"Just asleep?" I slump back against the pillow, dragging in air in an effort to quell the nausea that's still hanging
around the back of my throat.
"Yes, Sir. How's the head, Colonel?"
"Better when I was asleep." I raise a hand to my pounding head. "Aht!" I grab her hand; she's not the CMO, I can get
away with it with her. "Don't touch that damn thing, I don't want to be out again. Just ... give me a second here ..." I
close my eyes for a moment, then turn gingerly on my side. Daniel's scrunched in a ball, but turned toward me and I
can just make out through the shadowy gloom, the barely healed left ring finger in his mouth. "How's Carter?"
"She's still heavily sedated, Colonel," the nurse says quietly, motioning to the bed beyond Daniel. "But resting
comfortably."
In a minute I'll get up and go see for myself. Or maybe two - head's still pounding like the Keebler elves have taken
up residence inside there. "Teal'c?"
"He's sound asleep too, Sir."
"I am not, O'Neill. Do you require assistance?"
"You mobile, T?"
"I am not," he repeats, in typical Jaffa fashion, "however, I could be with little effort."
"Nah, that's okay. Go back to sleep. What time is it?" I belatedly whisper to the nurse.
"3:37. You should go back to sleep as well, Colonel."
"Yeah, in a few." I debate asking if she'll unhook me so I can go to the bathroom, or waiting `til she's gone back to the
desk and unhooking myself.
If I don't ask, she can't tell me no, and I can make my rounds on the way back from the john.
"I'm good," I lie through my teeth, especially since it takes tremendous effort not to clench my jaw.
No one's going anywhere. It probably won't matter if I lie here for another half hour, but I'm determined to get up
before I go back to sleep.
I need to do my own head count. Touch everybody, just to make sure they're warm and breathing.
I can do stealth. Hey, I directed Covert Ops for years, but this nurse ... what the hell is her name? Moreland.
Lieutenant Moreland. Either Frasier's warned her or she's got ears like a bat. If I so much as rustle the sheets, she
looks over.
But I can do patient too... for a little longer, anyway ...
Just not this long.
The Keebler crew has actually vacated the premises and I think I might be able to walk across the infirmary to the
bathroom ... if I'm cautious. And it's been forty-five minutes. Surely she thinks I've gone back to sleep by now.
Ahh! Diversion! The muted phone rings and I hear Daniel snuffle.
Just about the time my feet find the floor, his eyes drift open.
Janet must have given him something, either for pain or to put him to sleep; even in the gloom of the nighttime
infirmary I can see his pupils are tiny pinpricks in a sea of blue.
I immediately put a finger to my lips. And realize for the first time, my right hand is bandaged. And ouch! Something
doesn't want to take my weight. Oh yeah, ace bandage on the knee; at least it's not a full-fledged brace. I vaguely
remember falling and wrenching it.
Daniel blinks at me lazily before the synapses connect and he's rolling to his hands and knees, sitting up to reach for
me, though he doesn't say a word.
"Colonel!" Nurse Moreland-Wilkes hisses, slamming the phone down. "You're not supposed to be out of bed! Dr.
Frasier left strict instructions ..." Kathy Bates doesn't have a thing on this woman, and this one's not acting.
"Colonel?" Carter mumbles, shoulders moving restlessly under the blankets.
"O'Neill, you appear to be in need of assistance."
Uh oh, chaos. I didn't mean to wake everybody up.
"Colonel O'Neill, get back in bed this instant! Teal'c, you're no better off than he is, you get back in bed too. Dr.
Jackson! Lie down!"
Daniel's eyes go wide at her tone of voice, he swivels his head around automatically in response to that voice, and
the arm with the cast starts to sink. "Hey, it's not his fault. He's not firing on all cylinders either, don't yell at him." I
slide across the aisle between our beds. "S'okay, Danny." He leans into the hand I cup around his cheek. "I can't pick
you up, Sport, but scooch over and I'll lie down with you when I come back from the bathroom." I lean over the bed
railing to kiss him on the top of the head. As soon as I straighten he scooches over to the furthest side of the bed,
against the far railing, watching me with wide, glistening eyes. I'm not sure he's really awake. "Lie back down, Sport,
I'll be right back, okay?" He doesn't so much lie down as lean forward until he goes face first into the bed and shoves
his feet out from under him. I give the hems of the miniature scrub pants an experimental tug; it can't be comfortable
lying on all that bunched up fabric. Daniel levers his ass off the bed just enough for me to get a purchase on the slick
material and pull it down so it's not bunched under him anymore. "I'll be right back," I repeat, curling my fingers
around a slender ankle. He blinks at me, but still says nothing, so I give him a wink and shuffle off to Buffalo.
Maybe it only seems as far as Buffalo, but I'm up now, no way she's gonna make me use a urinal after I've gotten my
feet under me. And since she's still busy reattaching the major to an IV line, I make it to the bathroom and lock the
door behind me.
Sanctuary.
Fortunately for me, the toilet in here has a lid. I close it and sink down, stretching out my leg with a frustrated curse. I
so don't have time for this. I have a seven-year-old to manage, missions to accomplish and everyday kind of shit that
needs tending.
It occurs to me, again belatedly, this might not have been such a good idea after all. Especially if I can't manage the
business I came in here for.
The doorknob rattles and Nurse Wilkes informs me, in a sepulchral voice, that I have exactly five seconds to unlock
the door or she's gonna have an SF break it down.
Despite the fact I suspect she means it, I ignore her. It's gonna take her more than five seconds to get an SF in here,
let alone an SF capable of breaking down the door. And I'll be damned if I let her win this round.
Unfortunately, by the time I accomplish my business, I'm about used up and I have to make for the nearest bed
instead of my own.
Getting old really sucks.
And damned if Moreland doesn't top my coup by refusing to let Daniel get up and come to me.
I may have won the battle, but Nurse Wilkes wins the war, especially since Daniel's huddled in a ball, snuffling
because she yelled at him again.
Thankfully, an unexpected ally comes to our rescue.
"What's going in here?" Hammond demands. "I could hear you clear down the hall, Lieutenant. Jack, should you be
out of bed? What's the matter with Dr. Jackson? How come you're all awake at this hour of the night?" He makes
straight for Daniel, plucks him up off the bed and tucks him up against his shoulder. "Did you have a bad dream,
Son?" With his arms full of diminutive archeologist, he turns a full circle in the middle of the aisle. "Why are you all
awake?" he repeats, rubbing soothing circles on Daniel's back.
He's got this grandpa thing down pat.
Daniel's eyes are drooping, so either that sedative is still going strong, or he wasn't very awake to begin with.
Hammond slides my kid down so Daniel's cradled against his chest and starts to walk with him, up and down the aisle.
"Shhhh," he whispers, easily bearing Daniel's weight in one arm as he strokes the hair back off his forehead with the
other hand. "Go back to sleep, little one, it's all right. Everybody's home and you're all safe. Go back to sleep."
Wish I could get the adult Daniel to follow orders with such alacrity.
Hammond looks over at me. "Is there some reason everybody's awake at 3:30 in the morning, Colonel?" He continues
to walk and rock and soothe as if it's second nature to him.
"I believe Majorcarter has once again succumbed to the effects of the medication, Generalhammond."
Hammond inclines his head with the barest twitch of his lips. "My apologies, Teal'c, Colonel. Why are the three of you
awake at this hour?"
"I have been contemplating arising this past quarter hour, for the same purpose as O'Neill."
"Daniel woke up when I got up to go to the bathroom. Or sort of woke up anyway.
"Are you supposed to be out of bed?"
"I'm not dead, yet, Sir."
Now his lips do twitch, seriously, as he tries to hold back an inappropriate smile at my inappropriate sarcasm. He
bends at the waist to kiss Daniel on the forehead, an equally inappropriate gesture for a general, but when it comes
to Daniel around here, protocol has been tossed out the window; and it effectively hides his reluctant grin.
We've known each other for a long time, it's okay to be inappropriate in the infirmary at 3:30 in the morning. Being
the observant individual I am, I notice the General's looking a little worse for wear.
"Sir, why are you up at 3:30 in the morning?"
He looks over at me with a weary shake of his head. "SG-2 arrived back an hour ago. Captain Curtis dropped over
dead on the Gate ramp as he stepped out of the Stargate. His team says he was fine when he stepped into it on the
other side. Dr.'s Warner and Frasier are doing an autopsy now."
"Jesus," I whisper softly, closing my eyes. "He's got a wife and four kids."
"I've already contacted them."
Hammond's the best kind of commanding officer. The responsibility of this job weighs heavily on him; he's personally
invested in every one of his employees, clear down to the night janitors with top secret clearance, who mop the halls
of this clandestine facility. Which is one of the many reasons we're all proud to serve under his command.
No wonder he looks a little frayed.
"Think you can make it back to your own bed now, Colonel? I have a little sleeping archeologist here who I'm sure
would rather wake up beside you then alone in that big bed next door."
"Yes, Sir." I'll make it if I have to crawl. "Just so you're aware, I don't let him do this at home."
"I know you're a great dad, Jack, and I'm glad you know when to make exceptions, Son."
Yep, despite the fact I'm his 2IC and there's less of an age gap between Hammond and I than there is between the
adult Daniel and I, I'm still occasionally, Son, too.
"Teal'c?"
"General?"
"Anything I can do for you, Son, before I go back downstairs?" Hammond glances over at the Jaffa as he waits
patiently until I'm situated before easing Daniel down beside me.
"There is nothing, Generalhammond; my thanks for your consideration."
"All right then, all of you go back to sleep." The General smoothes the blanket over Daniel and pulls up the railing on
that side of the bed. "Just so he doesn't roll out when you do go back to sleep. I'll see you in the morning. I expect
you all to be wide awake too. Lieutenant, if they give you any more trouble, you just give me a call."
"Yes, Sir," Nurse Wilkes responds with exactly the right amount of deference, though I'd bet fifty bucks she's spitting
nails right about now. She'd like to put us all in restraints and throw away the key.
"Goodnight Teal'c, Jack. Rest well."
"Night, Sir."
"Goodnight, General Hammond."
As the General's firm footsteps die away, silence reigns, except for the ticking of the large clock, and the scritch,
scritch of a pen charting the latest round of vitals Nurse Wilkes just recorded off our various machines.
That should be interesting, especially since all of mine are flat. She's making no move to rehook me, so I'm gonna
take advantage of her Stephen King tendencies and lie here thanking my lucky stars that we're all alive and in one
piece.
This one was too close for comfort.
Maybe I need to rethink a desk job until ...
I sigh, run a hand over Daniel's small head as he unconsciously burrows in so he's tucked up right against me and
wonder what happened to him in that other timeline of his that caused him to so flatly reject most human contact.
He's such an unreservedly physical child now, it's obvious something happened to change him; this is definitely not
the child that grew into our adult Daniel.
Tonight, that's an unsolvable mystery. I need to bend my efforts toward figuring out how to tell Daniel he can't wait for
us in the Gate room anymore.
Since I can pretty much guarantee this news isn't going to be well received, I'd best start figuring out a way to bribe
him.
I drift off again, trying to remember how I used to bribe adult Daniel ... can't use coffee, Frasier's strictly forbidden
letting him get started on that habit again, which leaves ...
Uhm ... which leaves ... okay, maybe I should table this line of thought until later ... when I can ... actually ... think ...
~~~~~~~~~~
"Where are you going?" The second I push my chair back from the desk, Daniel's on his feet, anxiously reaching for
my hand.
"I'm just getting up to get a file. Want to get it for me?" I ask, instead of getting up.
"Sure." He lets go of my wrist, bouncing over to the file cabinet with a happy grin. He enjoys doing big people stuff like
looking for files.
Due to our series of unfortunate events, we've regressed clear back to Daniel's initial clingy stage right after the
whole Fountain of Youth thingy. He was just beginning to get past the `I need an adult in touching range' after being
sick, when the second in our series of unfortunate events happened.
I knew being off world for the first time since Daniel's illness was going to be difficult for all of us; I should have
insisted we stick to a standard recon. Instead, we ended up on a diplomatic mission. I totally blew the thing when the
stupid, fussy little monarch insisted we spend an extra, unscheduled day bowing and scraping; thanking them for
allowing us the privilege of mining in their mountain.
I just wanted to get home.
I might have kept it together long enough to get off the damn planet with the smoking treaty in hand, except Carter
nearly had to drop kick the asshole when he laid hands on her.
It really pisses me off when somebody messes with one of my team, and where Carter might have finessed us back
into his good graces, I just decked him.
I rarely let myself get that out of control. I've had years of field experience dealing with jackasses of every size and
shape imaginable; lately -- every species imaginable.
I know damn well Carter can take care of herself, but I'd already had an entire day on simmer and it was the match
that lit my torch.
I was too goddamn angry to even try to spin it for Hammond, which, in hindsight was another error of judgment on my
part. I should have let Carter handle the debriefing when she asked; instead I forged ahead like the proverbial bull in
a china shop. Considering the consequences of my raging bull routine, I got off with a very light slap on the wrist for
my stupidity.
Earth's inhabitants have been barred from P8X-346, a planet rich in trinium deposits, and Daniel chewed his right ring
finger raw over that episode.
He sat, or rather cowered, in my lap through the entire debriefing, absorbing all the anger I was literally vibrating with,
thinking, I found out later, this was all his fault. That he had somehow caused me to turn into this monster he didn't
recognize.
I'd scared him so badly, it took two nights of hideous nightmares to pull that out of him.
"Okay." I swivel my chair around in order to instruct. "You need to look in the personnel drawer." I wait as he peruses
the block letter labels on the front of the files; he gets annoyed if I tell him which drawer to look in; he wants to figure it
out himself.
"Personnel files," he squats, ass to ankles, beside the bottom file drawer as he opens it.
"I need the original file for Ramsey."
"R," Daniel mutters under his breath as he walks his left-hand fingers through the files. Janet has his right arm cast
so he can't use the fingers on that hand, which he finds extremely annoying. "R-a - R-a-m - Ramsey." He pulls the file
out with a flourish, closes the drawer and hops up to bring it over to me. "Is Russell gonna get better?"
"Thank you," I ruffle his hair. "I don't know, Sport. That kind of depends on Russell."
"Why doesn't he want to do the exercises Janet gave him?"
Daniel thinks the exercises are cool, especially the weight lifting ones, and has offered several times in the several
days to do them with Ramsey.
I originally thought Daniel's nagging might be better received than nagging from the rest of us, but I'm rapidly coming
to the conclusion that there's some resentment on Ramsey's part that it's him in that wheelchair and not Daniel.
Funny thing, everybody wants to be assigned to SG-1; they seem to think there's some prestige value in being
assigned to the premier SGC team, although I think we lost some of our cachet when Parker got killed the second
time he was out with us. People seem to think SG-1 has some magical enchantment that keeps us ... not exactly safe,
but at least alive.
What they never seem to understand is that it's a commitment forged among the four of us; if one's in trouble, we're
all in trouble. And while we extend that courtesy to anyone who joins us, there isn't that same level of commitment
back, which is what always lands them in trouble.
Only Quinn has managed to survive us for more than a month and even he was outta here as soon as we got Daniel
back. The only reason he managed was because he was clueless. I think the rest of us were bound and determined
to keep him in one piece if only to make him feel guilty every time we rescued his sorry ass.
The Gate room drama was the third in our series of unfortunate events.
Carter's still on crutches. Teal'c, as usual, is mostly healed; that tretonin stuff works almost as well as Junior. My knee
is giving me fits again, but any new scars from the latest bout with projectile weapons are already merging into the old
ones. Daniel's headache lasted long enough to worry even Janet, but he's fine now, physically at least.
Whatever it was he got hit with, the bolt was only set to stun. He wasn't even burned, just tossed awkwardly against
the railing. He must have put his hand out because both bones snapped just above his wrist. He's going to be in that
cast for awhile.
Since all of SG-1 is convalescing, we're on stand down. And I'm mulling over an idea I need to run past Carter and
Teal'c.
I pull out the paper work I need and hand the file back to Daniel. "You can file him under former employees now," I tell
him as I begin signing the triplicate forms that will release Russell Jones Ramsey the III from employment at the top
secret government project known to a select few as Stargate Command.
I always wonder, as I fill out this kind of paperwork, what these poor, deluded folks are going to do with the rest of
their lives.
Ramsey's afraid of his own shadow. Every time he sees something unusual in the night sky he's going to think we're
being attacked by aliens.
Since he's civilian, the Air Force is transporting him to a rehab facility nearer to his parents home and I can wash my
hands of that responsibility. Thankfully.
Daniel comes back to stand beside me, watching as I sign the final copy of the release forms.
"What's gonna happen to him now?"
I should really correct his speech; our adult Daniel never used words like gonna.
What happens if he grows up talking like me? And since Carter says he already speaks sixteen languages fluently,
there's really no doubt that he's going to be a linguist if he does have to do this growing up thing all over again.
Better yet, O'Neill, maybe you could set an example by speaking proper English.
Nah, that's too hard. I'm just as preprogrammed as Carter; only I'm preprogrammed to speak Upper Midwest English.
Now see, doesn't that have a nice ring to it?
Yeah, Daniel can tell his colleagues-to-be that he grew up in a household where we spoke Upper Midwest English.
"I don't know, Daniel. I guess Russell will have to decide what's important to him now."
"He told me he was disappointed he never got to play in my sandbox with me and now he never will."
"You mean to tell me he actually said `now I never will'?"
Daniel nods, eyes big with sympathy. "Does that mean he won't be able to be an archeologist anymore either?"
I slide back from the desk and pull my Littlest Ancient up on my lap. "Russell still has the choice to be whatever he
wants to be, Daniel. Doc said there's nothing irreparably damaged; that time and hard work will fix anything else that
comes up. But Russell's hurt here now," I pat over Daniel's heart. "And here," I tap his temple. "I don't know if he'll be
able to work through those hurts in order to overcome the physical hurts. Does that make any sense to you?"
Daniel mulls it over for a minute. "I guess he can be well if he wants to, huh?"
"That's a really good way of putting it. Russell will have to decide if he wants to be well or not."
"Why wouldn't he want to be well?" Daniel persists.
"Ahh, Sport, not many people are as strong as you."
"Am I strong?" He lifts his left arm, makes a fist, and checks out his bulging bicep, drawing a chuckle from me. He
grins and pats my cheek. "I love you, Jack."
Whoa!
What?
He's never initiated this game before, though he waits expectantly for it every night.
"I love you too, Sport."
"I love you better," he grins, ducking his head shyly, peeking at me out of the corner of his eye.
"Ahhhh, but I love you best."
The small, shaggy blond head shakes solemnly from side to side. "No, I love you bestest of all." The game usually
ends on this note, with tickles and giggles, but he slides up to his knees and throws his arms around my neck,
squeezing for all he's worth. "I was glad when that energy thing hit me," he says fiercely, "I didn't want to live if you
and Sam and Teal'c were dead."
As often happens, he's left me speechless, and not just because I got clunked in the carotid artery with his cast.
I squeeze back, but it takes a minute before I can answer. "Ahhhh, Sport, I know just how you feel. When I woke up
the first time and you weren't with me? I didn't want to wake up again either."
In his seven-year-old mind he's only known us a little over six months; do children attach to a new caregiver that
quickly? Surely he's tapping into adult Daniel's feelings and memories for it to be this intense.
And why do I feel the need to analyze this?
He's made it clear it's how he feels, it doesn't matter whether it's forty-year-old Daniel, or seven-year-old Daniel.
Flashing neon sign here - DESK JOB, DESK JOB - and after our series of unfortunate events, I'm almost ready to ask
Hammond to replace me on SG-1.
Almost.
Not quite there yet. I need to talk about this with Carter and Teal'c; Daniel too for that matter.
Time to pack up the `kids' and head for Minnesota. Daniel will like it there, even if there aren't any fish in the lake.
We need to look at our options with Plan B and make some decisions.
~~~~~~~~~~
"You're sure this is safe, Carter? No complex life signs hanging around?"
Carter gives me the `look'. "No complex life signs," adding a muttered, "As you well know ... Sir."
"O'Neill, SG-7 has scouted the location in its entirety, do you not trust them?"
I shrug as I toss Daniel's backpack up on the M.A.L.P. "I'd rather have done it myself." Even beyond the fact I'm
feeling like a puppet dancing at the end of somebody else's strings, I don't like it, especially not after our last
disastrous mission.
"I don't want to go," Daniel announces.
He's standing at the end of the Gate ramp, his left ring finger getting a thorough chew as he stares up at the
fluctuating pond. Janet's put his right arm in a sling, one complicated enough he can't get out of it without help, so
he'll stop using that hand. She says it's not healing properly because, despite casting it clear to the first knuckles on
his fingers, he's still using it as if it were a perfectly normal hand.
"What?"
The Gate's open, Carter already has the M.A.L.P. on its way up the ramp and Daniel suddenly decides he doesn't
want to do this?
I've been dragging my feet on this for three weeks, so we've been talking about this at least that long.
Yesterday he couldn't wait until tomorrow.
This morning he was so excited he didn't want to eat breakfast. Heck, he was so excited he didn't want me to eat
breakfast.
"I don't want to go," he says, setting his chin.
Oh, I so know this look.
Now the question becomes how to deal with it.
"In this, you have no choice in the matter, Danieljackson."
Seems none of us do. If I didn't know better, I'd be thinking Urgo was back.
Two seconds more and Daniel's wide, frightened eyes are staring at me over Teal'c's shoulder. He's too startled to
do more than grab T's jacket and hang on as Teal'c strides around the M.A.L.P., straight into the event horizon.
Well, that's certainly one way to deal with it.
Probably not the one I would have chosen, but I occasionally get hints Teal'c thinks I'm not strict enough with Daniel.
This time he took the decision right outta my hands.
Note to self; thank the Jaffa profusely. Especially since I don't want to go either.
I adjust my cap, tip a salute to Hammond above in the control room, flash a cheesy grin, and follow Carter and her
remote control toy into the big blue puddle.
I don't want to be impressed, but I can't help mimicking Daniel's slack jawed look as I step out of the wormhole on the
other side. I saw the video feed; I heard Carter's report on the damn planet. I knew what to expect, but it's so much ...
more.
Daniel is still ensconced on Teal'c's arm, though the stubborn tilt of his chin's come down and the look of dire terror
has melted into that look of wonder I also recognize. He's doing the bobble head doll thing as he tries to take in
everything at once.
This is a bright kid, Carter's explained to him that the wormhole folds time and space in order to deposit us on the
other side of the galaxy in approximately ten nano seconds, depending, of course, on where you're going. Sometimes
is takes a whole sixty nano seconds.
He's been spewing the stuff back at me all week long, so I know darn well he took it in, even if he didn't quite register
what it really meant - until now.
"Nine galaxies, Teal'c, we're nine galaxies away from our own!" Daniel informs the Jaffa, who'd already been traveling
the Gate system for probably seventy-five years or more, before he met and hooked up with us. Nine galaxies is
nothing to Teal'c, but he always listens attentively whenever Daniel chatters, big and little.
The Stargate here sits on its usual pedestal; the unusual part of this scenario is the pedestal is sitting in six inches of
crystal clear, turquoise green water. If you're lucky, and arrive at low tide, you can walk from the Gate to the island on
the sand bar that forms. In order to get here at low tide, we would have had to leave the mountain at 2:00 in the
morning.
I figured we could wade.
Dry land is a rocky outcropping of semi-arid terrain, Carter says probably volcanic in origin, about ten miles long and
five miles wide at its widest points. In aerial shots it looks sort of like a bow tie, with wide ends and a squinch in the
middle.
"How are we going to get there?" Daniel asks, squirming to be put down.
In answer, Teal'c strips his boots off his feet, then his socks, and puts him down on the dais. "Roll up your pants," he
says.
The M.A.L.P. lumbers through, followed by Carter, and the gate blinks out. From one of the side compartments of the
M.A.L.P., Teal'c liberates a small stool.
"What's that for?" Daniel already has his pants rolled up to his knees.
Teal'c motions for him to follow and they both slosh over to the DHD. "O'Neill has instructed me to teach you how to
dial home." He sets the stool in front of the DHD and Daniel, without needing to be told, climbs right up.
In case of an emergency, I want to know Daniel can get himself home. Hey, once a Boy Scout, always a Boy Scout;
I'm always prepared and I expect the same from anybody who goes out with me, which is why we all agreed Daniel
needs to know how to dial the Gate.
This place has been reconnoitered, explored, investigated and scrutinized as if the President of the United States
were making a state visit here. I don't care how compelled I feel to do this, I wasn't bringing him out here without
absolute proof this place is deserted. And yeah, it's just Daniel, but frankly, he's more important to the next world
order than any president could ever hope to be.
I look over as I hear the heavy clunk of the first chevron locking and see Daniel look up at the Stargate as he smacks
his left hand down on the next chevron.
I feel my lips turning up in the first genuine smile I've experienced in days. You'd think, after all these years in the
military, I'd be used to doing things I don't want to do.
Not.
Something has drawn us to this planet; all of us, even Daniel has expressed a `feeling' of needing to come here,
though I don't think he's really aware of the nature of the compulsion we're under.
Nothing happens.
"Press harder," Teal'c coaches patiently.
They're not like computer keys, they don't go down without some effort.
The second chevron locks and the Gate lumbers back the other way in its spin cycle.
"Carter and I are going on with the stuff, make sure he's got it memorized, T, before you guys catch up with us."
"He already knows the address for home, O'Neill. I had only to point out the first symbol and he showed me the rest. I
wish to be sure he can dial it on his own."
"Sweet. Don't be too long; I'll worry." I catch up to Carter who's slowed by the laborious gait of the M.A.L.P. splashing
through the shallow water. Neither of us bothered to take our boots off. We've waded through a lot worse.
"Carter, we did check for sea monsters, right?"
She slants a look at me. "Colonel, SG-7's been over this place backwards and forwards, inside and out. If your
trouble antenna is zinging, Sir, let's turn around right now and go home."
"My trouble antenna has been zinging non-stop since we happened on this little paradise, Major."
Both of us jerk around at the sound of a loud splash and spluttering behind us; turning in time to see Teal'c calmly
reach down and snag a handful of Daniel's BDU's, lift him out of the water and set him back on his feet.
Streaming and splashing, Daniel heads toward us at a loping gallop, laughing like a hyena.
For a minute, I just stand watching.
This must be what pure, unadulterated joy looks like. I don't think I've ever seen him so uninhibited, even during this
time he's been small.
"Daniel seems to think you picked the right place, Sir."
"Ya think?" I don't even bother to sigh over the Sir. Curiously, and totally uncharacteristically, I feel myself beginning
to relax. Yeah, the antenna's been zinging, but I swear, the instant my feet touched solid ground on this side of the
Gate, it quit.
We watch Daniel stop and bend over `til his face is almost in the water, peering at something in the vicinity of his feet.
He swoops his left hand into the water and comes up with a giant starfish, except it's too big and wiggly for his small
hand and he drops it. Instead of fishing for it again, like I expect, he just laughs and resumes his loping run toward us.
"Did you see me fall in?" he wants to know. "I turned too fast and couldn't get my balance because of my arm. Jack,
can I have this off now?" He stops in front of me and twirls around so I'm soaked to the knees. "Please?" He doesn't
even look back, though his left hand comes up to fidget with the `got to be irritating' wet strap across the back of his
neck.
"Want me to do it, Sir?"
"No, go on. I've got experience at this now." The first time I had to undo this thing, it took me twenty minutes to figure
out how to get him out of it, even after lessons.
Carter starts up the M.A.L.P. as I start in on the buckles and Velcro on this little torture contraption.
"Hey, you, stay outta the water until we can get Carter's sleeve over that cast, okay? Janet would murder me if she
knew I let you get it wet."
"You didn't let me," Daniel chortles, twirling in the water again, as soon as he's free. "I fell in!" He thoughtfully turns
away from me to kick his feet.
Sparkling drops of rainbow crystal sprinkle the top of the turquoise water, spreading, almost like bubbles, for a
suspended moment on top of the water.
"Did you see that?" he shouts, kicking again so a waterfall of crystal colored drops froth on the surface. "Can this be
another one of our adventures, Jack?"
"Sure, sounds good to me. Is there a reason you're yelling?"
"It feels good," Daniel returns, still at maximum decibels.
I watch, my curiosity growing, as the water churns and froths around Daniel's feet, even when he's not kicking, almost
as if it's inviting him to play some more.
He laughs again, totally uninhibited, and splashes through the shallow water to catch up with Carter. "Sam, can I run
the M.A.L.P.?"
"Sure," she says, handing over the remote to one of the most expensive pieces of equipment Stargate command
owns; without the slightest hesitation. "This works a little differently than your remote control toys at home, so let me
show you how to do it, okay?"
In front of us, Teal'c's already reached the beach. I pass Carter, Daniel and the ungainly M.A.L.P. just in time to get
sprayed as it chug-a-lugs back up to speed.
"It appears SG-7 believed us incapable of finding the way on our own," Teal'c says, pointing to a florescent pink
plastic flag tied to an outstretched limb of something that looks sorta like a mangrove tree.
The vegetation is lush and tropical, and it's at least ten degrees cooler as Teal'c and I enter at the head of the sandy
path. The path is probably fifteen feet wide, the broad leafed, overarching branches of the trees only a foot or two
above Teal'c's head. On the left, the trees appear to be growing out of the sides, tops and middles of huge boulders.
Their smoothness speaks of eons of wearing by wind and rain and sand. On the right, the trees are wound together
from the roots, sometimes leaning away from each other, sometimes with the trunks literally twined together as
though they're age old lovers.
Carter and Daniel have found the path too. There's something particularly engaging about watching Daniel in this
mode; I can't put my finger on why, but both Teal'c and I turn around. He's given the remote back to Carter and we
hear his excited chatter as he darts from tree to tree, examining each burl and knot within his reach, fingers busily
investigating the texture and feel, while his brain catalogs everything out loud.
"Oh wow, these are so old. Look at this one, doesn't it look like a funny old man? And this must be his wife over here
in this tree; I wonder what happened to them? Do you think they were ever alive?" He turns to look for me. "Do you
remember the faeries in the cemetery, Jack?
"Sure." The thought doesn't make me particularly comfortable. "Why?"
"Doesn't it feel the same here?"
Oh yeah, trust our Littlest Ancient to tap into that immediately. "You're right, it does."
Maybe Carter's right, maybe we should dial back out right now, despite the fact I'm feeling more and more secure by
the minute.
"Oh! They were! Feel this one! It's still alive!" Along with his hands, Daniel presses his ear to the twisted, gnarled
bole of a tree only half again his height. "I can hear its heartbeat," he whispers, awestruck. "What do you suppose it
would take to wake it up?"
Carter and I exchange `oh my God' glances.
"I believe Danieljackson's flights of fantasy have overcome him, O'Neill."
"That's flights of fancy, Teal'c, just so you know." And I sure hope it is flights of fancy. "Come on, Daniel, I don't need
you waking up the trees, Sport."
Carter gives him back the remote and we head on down the path, following the pink plastic flags SG-7 left behind.
Teal'c takes off through the trees.
A few more twists and turns, it feels sort of like wandering the halls at the SGC, and we break into the open. It's a little
oasis of sorts, in a rough semi-circle, closed on one side by another jumble of huge old boulders that gradually
incline to the top of what looks like it might be a manmade wall of gigantic proportions. The pile of boulders extends
into the trees in both directions, with a number of trees growing, as we saw on the path earlier, from around, on top
of, and between boulders.
The ground is neither sand, nor soil, but rather something of both and supports a low growing grass that seems to
have thrived in the clearing. We've only walked for about fifteen minutes and for perhaps ten of that, we've been
walking on a parallel path to the beach, so if we could cut straight through the trees, we're only about five minutes
from the water. I can still hear the low splash of the waves breaking on the sand.
Teal'c is already here, collapsible shovel out, digging a fire pit in the middle of our clearing. There is a large pile of
sizable stones sitting to one side; he'll ring the pit with them once he's done. "There is fresh water, O'Neill," he says,
not bothering to look up from his present occupation.
"Yeah? Where?" We hauled in water, SG-7 said nothing about a fresh water supply.
"Approximately twenty paces to the west of this clearing. You will wish to view it, as will Majorcarter and Danieljackson.
It appears to have been used as a bathing area."
Daniel parks the M.A.L.P., stretches up on tiptoe to set the remote on top of one of the wheel covers and steps back,
tipping his head to look up at the sky.
For just a second, superimposed over little Daniel, I see adult Daniel; hand clapped to his boonie, squinching his
nose to get his glasses back in place as he stares up at some alien sky, chattering a mile a minute - just like our little
guy still is.
"It's the wrong color of blue. Almost turquoise instead of a true blue," he analyzes. "Is there a reason for that, Sam?"
But he doesn't wait for an answer. "Oh look!" The miniature finger comes up too, pointing at the sun. "I know what
that is," he exclaims, "you told me before. It's a sun dog!"
It is. A very distinct halo of light rings the sun, glinting and glistening with the colors of a rainbow.
And I did tell him that ... but not since he's been little.
"Well, Major, I think we've just proved your theory correct," I tell her in an undertone, "Teal'c says he knew the
Stargate address for home, and now this; this Daniel is definitely accessing adult Daniel's memories."
"What do you mean, Sir?" Carter's staring at the naturally recurring phenomenon too, shading her eyes as she
stares up at it.
"We haven't seen any of those since Daniel got downsized by the magic box."
"Uhm, we were studying them in one of his science books the other day."
"Oh." Damn.
On one hand, I should probably be relieved; on the other, I'd really like to know.
"How `bout when you two are done blinding yourselves, you help pitch camp?"
Carter immediately shakes off the enchantment; it takes a little longer with Daniel, but he eventually joins in,
cheerfully hammering tent pegs with his cast, until I catch him at it and make him use a hammer.
Camping for us is like second nature, and in very short order we have a tidy campsite. Teal'c has a fire going, over
which Daniel is squatted, poking a stick into it, and Carter's gone off to decide where the ladies room is going to be.
It occurs to me Daniel + fire + stick is a recipe for the beginnings of another unfortunate event, which none of us need
right now.
Since Teal'c has an eye on him, I don't feel compelled to drag him away from it by the scruff of his neck.
Teal'c manages this overprotective business much better than I do; maybe it's because he knows he can snatch
Daniel back in a heartbeat if something happens, whereas I no longer have the reflexes of a
hundred-and-five-year-old Jaffa, never mind the fifty-year-old Jaffa reflexes Teal'c still possesses.
I wander over to join them, taking a seat on a conveniently upturned log that's just about the right height for my long
legs.
Yeah, Teal'c looks out for old colonels too.
"Should you not begin producing the evening meal, O'Neill?"
"Why? You hungry? It's only 4:00 o'clock, T. I thought maybe we'd all take a stroll down to the beach when Carter
gets back. See what the rest of this place looks like."
Daniel ditches his stick and gets up to explore some more.
"Find everything okay?" I inquire, as Carter wanders back into the campsite.
"Oh my goodness," she enthuses, "Teal'c's bath is gorgeous. We brought plenty of water, let's use it for bathing."
Teal'c inclines his head with that little bow of his. "I had supposed you would find it extremely engaging, Majorcarter. It
is an attractive setting for a bathing, is it not?"
"It's stunning. Sir, it's really an entire facility, with running water and everything. You won't believe it. It's primitive, but
actually quite ingenious."
"I want to see," Daniel pipes up. He's been wandering around the clearing touching all of the trees.
"We'll go past on our way to the beach. Daniel, leave the trees alone. I'm serious, I don't need you waking up
anything around here."
"But ..."
"I mean it, and if you won't promise, we may as well go straight back to the Stargate, because we're not staying."
He looks over at me, trying to gage how serious I am, and I'm dead serious. I feel it too; there's something about this
place that's not quite right. It's an odd feeling, not quite wrong either, just out of sorts. I'm not comfortable with it, but
my antennae aren't just wigging out, so I'll stay, as long as Daniel doesn't go fooling around with the precariously
fragile balance I sense.
"Okay," he says eventually, though it's a hard won battle; he's itching to see if he really can wake something up. "I
promise."
"Daniel ..."
He spreads his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I promise," he repeats, sincerely, "I won't try to wake anything up."
"Don't do it accidentally either."
He snorts, a sound so typical I'm again seeing adult Daniel; on the Gadmeer ship this time, yanking back his hand
after I just told him not to touch anything and the drawer just happens to open in front of him.
Yeah right. "Accidentally, either," I repeat, in the voice he knows he better obey, or else.
Thankfully, I haven't had to follow through on the `or else' yet. He really is a good kid. If I make sure I engage his
attention before telling him something, he always obeys. It's the times I've told him something and I don't realize that
although he may be looking me directly in the eye, his mind's busily engaged elsewhere, that we have issues. I've
learned to touch his face if I'm not sure, that always brings him back. He's very mischievous and still a
pain-in-the-neck to keep track of, but he's never been willfully disobedient. He understands the need for rules and
doesn't even mind them, so long as they make sense to him ... fortunately for me, a downsized Daniel isn't required to
obey the military's rules.
Teal'c throws a couple more good sized logs on the fire; SG-7 left us firewood, I don't want to think about what they
cut down. "I too believe you should leave things alone here, Danieljackson." He rises effortlessly. "You are correct,
this is a primordial world, very old. You could unleash more than you bargain for, even accidentally. You will need to
be extremely cautious."
I got rolled eyes; Teal'c gets a look of awe.
"I promise I'll be careful," Daniel replies solemnly.
Carter has theorized that the planet's three moons have seriously affected the weather patterns over the last several
thousand years; endless rain and rising tides likely drove whatever human habitation there was off the planet eons
ago.
"I found recent signs of a large animal, as well, O'Neill."
"Large animal?" I swivel my head around toward my full grown scientist. "Carter? No complex life signs?"
"You know that means no sentient beings, Sir." She shrugs and raises her eyebrows. "How large, Teal'c? Are we
talking the size of a raccoon, or a mountain lion?"
"Approximately the size of a large dog, Majorcarter." The disdain in his voice has dog shit written all over it.
"Dog?" Daniel's hands drop from the tree he's been `studying'. He's been bugging me about a dog for the last two
months. Ever since Cassie opened her big mouth and told him it's a rule; every Earth kid has to have a dog. "I
thought you said this was an island, Jack," he says, looking around as if Teal'c's `dog' is going to come loping into
camp any second.
As this is the only land for minimally hundreds of miles in any direction, basically the limit of a long-range UAV, I have
serious doubts the bionetwork here could support even a pack of dogs.
"Don't go wandering around unarmed then, and Daniel, no wandering off on your own; you stay within sight of an
adult at all times. Just like the trees, I mean it. Got that?"
He eyes me, his brain working furtively.
"This requires only a yes or no answer; and if you tell me no, then we'll go over it again," I pause briefly, "and again ...
and again, until you're clear on this. You do not go wandering off on your own no matter what's calling your name. Do
you understand?"
"Yes," he mumbles, with a mutinous sniff, which is about as close as he ever comes to talking back.
Where along the line did he lose all respect for authority? Or should I be asking where, along what timeline, did he
lose all respect for authority?
"Good. Let's go. Carter, Teal'c? Lead the way, since you two know where we're going."
Teal'c takes point, Carter follows, I take our six with Daniel in front of me; pretty reminiscent of our standard recon
formation. Daniel, as our lone civilian, always goes the middle, despite the fact he'd become as good a solider as any
of us even before he ascended.
The lavatory facilities are pretty incredible; all the more so for likely being thousands of years old. There's even a
primitive toilet, with running water, and a small waterfall nearby that flows into a basin that could certainly be a sink.
It's the bath, though, that engages all our attention.
It's a sunken tub, lined with rocks speckled with something that glints as the sun slants through the foliage.
Occasional blinding shafts of light unexpectedly shoot out of the water like fireworks.
Daniel reaches his hand to try to catch one. "Oooo," he says, drawing his hand back quickly, though the sound he
makes is more surprise than hurt. "It tingles," he puts his hand back out.
Experimentally, I poke the end of my P-90 in the pool.
Nothing. So I bend down and stick my hand in.
The water's warm and when I pull my hand out there is a pleasant tingling sensation, as though I've just had my hand
massaged by an expert masseuse. "Whatta' ya think, T? Ever run across anything like this in your travels?"
"I have encountered springs like this one on several different planets, O'Neill, they are not harmful, if that is what you
are asking."
"It was. And you're sure?"
"My symbiote took considerable pleasure in places such as this. I believe it is comparable to the beneficial effects of
the hot springs on your world. In response to your query, I am certain."
"Yeah? If Junior liked it, you're certain it's okay for humans?"
"I am."
"Good enough for me. Carter, since you're the lone female of the party, you get first shot at it. Just don't take forever."
"I'm not turning that offer down," she grins, turning in a circle to take in the `ceiling' and `fixtures' of our lavatory.
"Just watch out for the snakes." I turn to head back for the path.
"I haven't seen signs of any wildlife, Sir. Besides Teal'c's dog," she says, guiding Daniel in front of her as she follows.
Teal'c takes our six this time.
"I meant `in paradise', Major. For some reason, all this seems a little too good to be true." We hit the clearing again
and I look back for Teal'c. "Think we can go directly through the trees out to the ocean, or do we need to take the
path."
"I would counsel we follow the path, O'Neill, until we have further reconnoitered on our own."
"Excellent observation. Daniel, stay within sight, keep your hands off the trees, and STAY OUT OF THE WATER!" I
holler as he whips around us and scampers down the path full speed ahead. Even I know that's far too many
instructions for a seven-year-old. I pick up the pace so he doesn't get too far ahead of us.
The beach extends for several miles to the east of us; to the west, another tumble of smooth boulders marks the end
of our side of the island. The boulders are huge and extend well into the water, forming a causeway of sorts that
bisects the sandbar leading to the Stargate. Carter says in another few hundred years, the Stargate will be
underwater as well.
Daniel heads straight for the rocks and I know damn well he's going to end up in the water again. Or worse yet, falling
and cracking open that cast.
"Hey, Sport, let's try this way this afternoon. We already know what's down that way. Let's see what might be down
this way."
It works, amazingly enough. He obediently turns and trots back toward us.
Carter pulls a bottle of suntan lotion out of one of her multiple pockets. "Hey you, come here and let me put some
suntan lotion on you."
Daniel stands still, until she gets to his face and finger combs the hair back off his forehead. "Yuck," he says, spitting.
She's very thorough, even using the tips of her fingers to rub it on his ears and into the part on top of his head.
"The sun is closer here than at home, it's very strong."
"Maybe it doesn't have the same kind of UV rays we have at home."
"Yes, Mr. Smarty Pants, you may very well be right, but we're not taking any chances. A bad sunburn could ruin our
whole vacation."
"It tastes bad."
"You're not supposed to eat it, Daniel." Carter pulls his t-shirt up and wipes his lips, then pulls chapstick out of
another pocket and hands it to him. "Put some of this on."
"Mmmmm," he grins, "this tastes good." He hands back the chapstick. "What kind is it?"
"Tropical Fruit Punch."
"Are you sure?" He's still grinning `cause he knows he gets kisses and hugs from Carter with this game.
"I don't know, let me check." She swoops him up, tickles him `til he's leaning so far back I think he's gonna do a back
flip right out of her arms; then in a motion almost too quick for the eye to follow she swings him up, cradles him in her
arm, and plants a smacking kiss on his lips, declaring, "Yep, its Tropical Fruit Punch. Geez, Daniel, are you finally
putting on weight, or does that cast weigh an extra ten pounds?"
Carter matches her chapstick to our missions like other women match their purses to their shoes. And this is one of
her games with Daniel. We all have some little ritual around hugs and kisses that's unique to each of us. Teal'c whirls
him around by the ankles; yeah, I'm still not watching that game, then throws him up and catches him, ending with
hugs and kisses. This is just one of half a dozen Carter plays with him. I'll often see her catch up with him in the
corridors at the SGC and just scoop him up from behind and snuggle him for a minute before putting him down again.
Daniel thrives on it, and if we happen to miss our cue, he stops whatever he's doing and waits - until we catch on.
He's gonna outgrow this, and we're gonna be the ones missing it.
Carter drops a still giggling Daniel lightly to the sand. "Hey, has your cast dried out yet. Hold still, wiggle worm, and let
me see." She catches his hand and turns it palm up, wiggling the tips of her own fingers inside over top of his.
"Is it?" he asks, tilting his head as if trying to see what her fingers are doing inside the plaster.
"It's getting there. Tell you what, when we get back to camp, I'll sprinkle some baby powder inside that will help wick
the last of the moisture. But I'm afraid you're going to have to stay out of the water for the rest of the day."
"If I stay in the shallow can I look for shells?"
"Sure, but pay attention." We resume walking as this conversation takes place. "If you get it wet again, it will take that
much longer to dry and you can't go back in the water until the cast is completely dry and we can put the sleeve on to
keep it that way."
Carter found a place that does custom stuff for scuba divers and they made her a little sleeved mitten to waterproof
both the cast and Daniel's arm so he's not getting water down inside the cast. You slide it on, zip it up, tuck the top
inside the elbow end of the cast and voila', he can be in the water. Not much fun being off world on a deserted island
surrounded by beaches and not be able to be in the water.
"Can I run back to camp and get something to carry the shells in?" Daniel asks, hopefully.
"You may not go back alone, Danieljackson; however, I will carry them for you if it is your wish."
"We don't even know if we're going to find any shells here, Daniel." Carter's plopped down in the sand and is taking
off her boots, rolling up her pants legs too. Don't know why it didn't occur to any of us to change. She lines up her
boots, stuffs her socks inside and leaves them sitting on the beach.
"It's not like anybody's going to steal them," she says with a shrug, taking the hand Daniel holds out and running with
him to the edge of the water. For a few minutes they play like they're being chased by the waves, running up the
beach as the surf foams around their ankles, then running back down chasing the waves back into the water.
When Teal'c strips off his boots and joins them, I scope out a nearby palm and slouch over to take a load off.
"Come on, Jack," Daniel calls, looking over his shoulder. "It's fun!"
"I'm sure it is. My knee's not up to jumping waves today." It's an excuse, but he'll let me get away with it since he has
Carter and Teal'c to entertain him.
I'd rather watch. In the time it takes them to wear him out, I snap several more little Daniel pictures, downloading them
to my mental photo album; Daniel holding on to Teal'c's hand as he jumps the incoming waves - Teal'c effortlessly
lifting him high above the possibility of getting wet again; Carter and Teal'c, with Daniel between them, picking him up
by the elbows to jump the waves; Carter and Daniel, the two blond heads nearly blending in with the sand, poking at
some interesting specimen.
And then my family's trooping back to settle around me in various stages of relaxation here under the shade of the
swooping palm.
Yes, we are a family; an odd one, with neither genetic or blood ties, but family in a way few hereditary families ever
achieve. With Daniel's downsizing, it's been reaffirmed in a whole new way.
Which is why we're here; we need to reevaluate, make some decisions about where we're headed and what we're
going to do if Daniel isn't resized to normal. Which, you know, six months down the road here, with no discernable
change, is beginning to look more and more like a permanent thing.
We started with school two months ago and he's already half way through the 9th grade work, so I know there's
nothing wrong with his brain. And Janet swears he's growing even if she can only measure it in micrometers, so I'm
less worried that the effects of the damned Fountain of Youth thingy are irreparably permanent.
That last trip through the Gate, though, I guess it really sunk in that none of us are immortal. And one of us has got to
be around for Daniel; there's no way I'm going to leave him at risk for being shuffled off to who knows where ever
again and that includes letting the NID get their hands on him. I know Hammond and Frasier would kill for him as well,
but Hammond and Frasier are extended family, they're not SG-1.
"Want to walk a little further or are you ready to go back and make supper, Daniel?"
No MRE's this trip out, we brought real food we can cook over a fire. Teal'c's been watching Julia Child reruns and
wants to try his hand at wood-smoked chicken linguini. Carter rigged one of the compartments on the M.A.L.P. so we
have a little refrigerator, and Daniel and I bought all the ingredients on T's list ... if nothing else, it will be interesting.
"Let's walk!" He bounds up, flinging sand in every direction, reenergized and ready to go. Oh to be young again and
have energy like that.
Or maybe not. I'm not sure I'd want to be seven again for anything.
We end up walking another couple of miles down the beach. Daniel darting every which way probably adds twice
again the number of miles we walk, so by the time we're ready to head back, he's beat.
Teal'c notices before I do and without a word, swings him up on his shoulders, brushing off the small sandy feet
before clasping him by the ankles to hold him in place. Like the big Daniel, our little space monkey can sleep
anywhere, and he's out, slumped over Teal'c's bald head like a really bad wig.
I file away another Mastercard moment.
The walk back to camp is mostly silent, not necessarily in deference to our sleeping kid, but partly. I think partly too,
because we're all lost in our own thoughts.
"Penny for them, Major?"
Carter slants a look at me. "Just wondering again, why we're here, sss ... " she lets it fade away and I'm grateful
enough to shoot her a grin.
"Yeah, me too. Teal'c?"
"I also would be interested to know why we are here, O'Neill. However, I have observed, since coming through the
Gate, there is a tranquility about all of us that has been elusive these past weeks as we have wrestled against this
binding."
"Binding?" Carter pipes up. "As in spell, Teal'c?"
Teal'c only raises an eyebrow.
"Come on," she pursues, "do you really believe in that kind of stuff?"
"There is an element to the universe, Majorcarter, scientists such as yourself cannot explain away, even with
theories. I believe Danieljackson is correct, the trees on this island are alive, or were at some time, if they are no
longer. How do you explain that with your scientific theories?" He doesn't wait for an answer, merely goes on, his
deep voice a counterpoint to the soft swishing of the waves still washing in around our feet. "The Nox were correct in
identifying the Tau'ri as young. You have traveled out here for years, now, yes? But you still do not comprehend the
ancientness of the universe. Much like Danieljackson could speak anticipatorily about traveling nine galaxies away
from his own, you speak the words, but you have no comprehension of what it means for the universe to be hundreds
of thousands of years old. In a place like this," he lets loose of one of Daniel's ankles, making a single economic
gesture with his hand, "you may begin to feel and comprehend the spirit of ancientness that pervades certain places."
It's Carter's turn to raise an eyebrow. She's not convinced, but she's not going to argue. Teal'c's point is well taken;
this place does feel primeval, there's no arguing that.
We pause briefly on the beach in front of the path back to the campsite, to watch this world's sun slide down over the
horizon.
"Oh!" Carter and I echo at the same moment as the infamously elusive green flash lights the horizon. It's almost
florescent in its brilliance and lasts only moments before disappearing, as if sucked into a vortex in the sea.
I don't know about Carter, but I've watched a lot of sunsets on Earth, from a lot of different beaches, and I've never
once caught that flash. They say it only happens in tropical climates and requires an utterly cloudless day. I've
encountered both, but never the flash.
"Have neither of you see that before?" Teal'c inquires.
"You have?" I can't help asking. Somehow the Jaffa warrior and beaches just don't seem to go together.
"I have indeed had the pleasure several times." A very rare smile steals across the usually stoic features. "The last
was with Ishta."
I wisely keep my mouth shut.
Pretty cool; sun dogs and the green flash - sounds like comic book characters. Though they're naturally recurring
phenomenon, we hardly ever see them on our home world. I wonder briefly if these things are being manipulated for
our benefit.
But why? And by whom? For what purpose? I have no intention of letting my guard down, no matter how relaxed I
`feel', until I know all of the above.
Back in camp, I unroll Daniel's sleeping bag outside the tent and Teal'c settles him on top of it, spreading one of our
thin space blankets over him. Daniel immediately turns on his side and tucks up in his usual isopod imitation. I bet if
he'd stay asleep we could actually roll him around like a roly poly.
I suspect he's down for the night. It's been more than a month, but this is the most active he's been since the
appendicitis attack. I haven't been able to motivate him to do anything particularly physical since then. I'm guessing
because he's not quite ready to believe it won't happen again. It was a very traumatic experience; nothing unusual in
the life of Daniel Jackson, unfortunately, but it's branded a new scar into his psyche, right over the barely healed scar
of loosing his parents.
Carter's borrowed Teal'c's kel'no'reem candles and is off in the bath while Teal'c and I are exchanging campaign
stories by the campfire when Daniel suddenly sits straight up, eyes wide open, mouth open in a silent scream more
unnerving than any sound I've ever heard.
In two strides I snatch him up and the night is rent by an unearthly wail. Not from Daniel, but he wakes with a shudder
that travels the length on the small body pressed against me. The arms clasp immediately around my neck, his cast
nearly cutting off my circulation; the legs wrap around my waist with a strength born of incalculable fear.
"Teal'c?" But he's gone already, into the forest, his staff weapon missing from the ordnance on top of the M.A.L.P.
Before I can get my hands on my P-90, Carter's in the clearing; barefoot, still shoving an arm into her tank top.
"What the hell?" she breaths, snatching up both guns and shoving mine at me, racing to circle the perimeter as I kill
the low lights she's rigged around the camp. She circles once and moves silently to stand by us. "Daniel?" she asks
softly. "Do you know what it is?"
"I think it's a tree," he whispers, his voice shaking. "I think one of the trees woke up. I didn't do it, Jack." He's trembling
now, as if from ague, and he presses his cheek tight to mine.
"It's okay, Sport." I whisper. "Can you give me just a little breathing space? Thanks," I suck in air as quietly as
possible when he loosens his hold and press my cheek back against his. I've only got him on one arm and can't hold
him as tightly as he wants to be held, the other hand has my P-90; Carter handed it to me live and in firing position.
Her shoulder's pressed to mine, on the side Daniel's on; she's slanted slightly away from us and we're standing with
our backs to the pile of rocks. It's the most defensible position we have.
An interminable wait follows, my internal time clock tells me it's a good twenty minutes before Teal'c steps back into
the clearing. I don't hear him, only sense him as he moves toward us as silently as a shadow. "There is nothing out
there, O'Neill. However, I recommend we return at once through the Stargate. I believe one of the trees may have
woken. If that is the case, merely our presence here could be the catalyst."
I hear what he's not saying. Daniel's presence could be the catalyst.
"Let's go. We'll send SG-7 back for anything that's irreplaceable."
"I'll get a flashlight," Carter starts for the M.A.L.P.
"No, there's enough light to make it out of here and once we're at the water it will reflect enough to dial the Gate. Let's
go," I repeat. I don't want anything artificial attracting attention to us. I just want out of here, and I don't give a damn
whether we've been drawn here or not.
We're not staying.
The tide's on the way out, there's only a trickle of water running over the sandbar leading to the Stargate. We're not
at a dead run, but we're certainly not strolling leisurely either, so it takes us considerably less time to get back to the
Gate. Teal'c pulls ahead of us and starts the dialing sequence, pressing his palm over the red hub in the center as
we pass him.
We're nearly to the dais when I turn back.
No kawoosh.
"What?"
Teal'c says nothing, and I see him press each chevron with deliberation, spread his palm once more over the hub,
and look up.
Nothing.
"The dialing device is locked, O'Neill. We cannot dial out."
Oh for cryin' out loud! Enough already!
I'm not doing another unfortunate event. And I'm seriously pissed now.
Abruptly, Daniel sits up, shoving back off my shoulder so I have to adjust quickly or drop him. "Carter!"
She snatches my P-90 out of the air because I don't have time to do more than warn her as I grab Daniel.
"I have to go back," he says urgently. "Put me down, Jack, I have to go back."
"No, and no." I tighten my hold when he squirms.
"Yes. I have to go back. I can help it!" He grabs my face in both small hands. "Let me go, Jack. If I don't, it will die. Let
me go," he begs, sounding so much like big Daniel I want to shake him `til his teeth rattle.
"No." I'm not going to argue.
"Please, I have to go. I have too!" His eyes roll back in his head and he goes limp, sliding through my arms like a wet
mackerel. And the little shit is off and running the moment his feet hit the sand.
I'm so stunned I just stand there staring after him. Teal'c, however, snatches him by the back of his shirt, except
somehow he manages to twist away even from the Jaffa.
We're after him in a heartbeat, but he's fleeter than a deer. And we're at a serious disadvantage; it appears he knows
where he's going and we're having to follow a little sprite dressed in camo in the frickin' dark!
I'm gonna kill him! Just as soon as I make sure he's safe.
"Daniel!" So much for stealth. "Carter, get back and light the camp. If we loose him, I want him to be able to find his
way back!"
Daniel, still at least a hundred feet ahead of us, crashes into the woods only about thirty feet beyond the path. Carter
veers off toward camp.
The forest slows him, but it slows us too and he's always just out of arms length, flitting through the trees, both hands
out; reaching, feeling, stretching to find the tree that's in pain. We can hear it groaning now; a low, rumbling sound I
think I may actually be feeling more than I'm hearing. The ground under our feet is rippling slightly, as though a
non-rector scale registering earthquake is shaking the island.
And then there's silence and the earth stills and I know he's found the tree and he's so dead! I'm gonna handcuff him
to me for the remainder of his natural life!
He's plastered to the damn thing, arms around it, face pressed against the tree as tightly as he had his cheek
pressed to mine just a few minutes ago. I can't tell if it's agony, or ecstasy on his face, or some of both.
Teal'c slams to his knees behind him, reaching to lay a broad hand on his back. Daniel takes no notice. He's pouring
himself into the tree and I want to rip him off like a piece of bark, but I don't know what will happen to him if I try. It's
the only thing holding me back and he is SO dead when we're done with this!
The sagging branches of the tree slowly begin to stretch out; with a little hitch, the trunk his small arms nearly
encompass, straightens and stands taller; even in the starlit dark I can see the leaves unfurling from their death curl.
Daniel's arms sag; for an instant he looks like he's going to sag right down with them, then he steps back, away from
Teal'c's hand, keeping a hand of his own on the tree, and looks at me over his shoulder.
Out on the beach, with the water reflecting the moon and starlight, it was nearly as light as day. We're in deep
shadow here under the dense canopy created by the trees. I can only see movement, no details.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes."
"Is the tree all right?"
"It is now."
"Are you done?"
"Yes."
"Let's go."
Neither Daniel, nor Teal'c move.
"Are you mad at me?"
"Let's go," I repeat, in my not-to-be-messed with Colonel voice. Even Teal'c responds to it.
"I can walk," Daniel says, when Teal'c picks him up.
The camp is ablaze with lights. Carter's pacing, P-90 in one hand; uncharacteristically chewing the fingernails on her
other hand. She stops dead as we enter the clearing, I see her eyes close briefly, and then she's rushing to Teal'c
and Daniel.
"Are you all right?" She's running her hands all over him, checking for injuries, assuring herself he's still in one piece.
"Daniel, you scared the shit out of us!" She pulls him out of Teal'c's arms and hugs him hard enough to make his
eyes bulge. "Are you all right?" she repeats, leaning back to check him visually too.
"I'm tired, Sam. Can I go back to bed?"
"No, you may not, but you can put him down on his sleeping bag, Carter. And then I would appreciate it if the two of
you would give us a few minutes."
"O'Neill ..."
"Please go back to the DHD and see if there's anything we can do to get it working." When neither complies, I raise
an eyebrow. "Do I need to make it an order?"
"Colonel, maybe ..." Carter frowns, but backs down with a sharp sigh when I just look at her. "Yes, Sir," she snaps,
which is as close as she ever comes to insubordination.
"Sit up, Daniel." Maybe Teal'c's right, maybe I have been too lenient.
He pulled his knees up to his chest the minute Carter put him down and slumped over on his side. The finger's in his
mouth and he looks cherubic - now. Ten minutes ago he looked like the devil's spawn.
"Did you hear the words can you, or will you, come out of my mouth?"
"Jack ..." He does sit up and his arms come out to be picked up; there are tears trembling on those `women would kill
for them' lashes and his lower lip is quivering.
I will not be diverted by puppy dog eyes, or crystalline tears. His hands sink to his lap, the chin goes down and I see
the tears plop on the plaster cast.
"You made a promise."
"But ..." he starts ... stops; then starts again. "I ..." and stops again.
"You made a promise and then you deliberately made me think you were sick, or hurt, in order to break that promise."
"That's not true," he says quietly. "I promised I wouldn't try to wake them up. I didn't wake it up," he sniffs, "the tree
woke up by itself. I only wanted to help."
A distinction worthy of the linguist he once was and will be again. A very fine distinction, but true none the less. I told
him to leave them alone: I never made him promise anything other than he wouldn't try to wake them; even
accidentally.
"I'm not going to argue semantics with you, Daniel. What you did was wrong and you know it."
"You wouldn't have let me go."
"Damn straight I wouldn't have let you go. I had no idea what would happen to you if you went to that tree."
He looks up, tears still streaking his face. "You couldn't have stopped me, no matter what you did."
On a sigh, I drop down on my heels in front of him. "That doesn't make what you did right."
"I know." The lip biting thing starts. "I'm sorry." And there are more tears.
"A couple of weeks ago you told me you were glad when that energy bolt hit you because you thought Carter, Teal'c
and I were dead. How do you think I would have felt if something had happened to you tonight? Not to mention Sam
and Teal'c? "
Yes, I know I'm playing dirty, but I'm desperate. We're locked out of the dialing device on an island that could have
thousands of trees `waking' up. What if he decides he has to help every goddamn tree on the island?
"I'm sorry," he sobs, the arms coming up again as he scoots towards me on his ass. "I'm sorry, Jack. Please don't be
mad at me."
Get a grip, O'Neill, this is not adult Daniel you're dealing with. Logic and reasoning are not going to get you
anywhere; he's seven for chrissakes! For that matter logic and reasoning never got me anywhere with adult Daniel
either, but adult Daniel never held out his arms to be comforted.
Oh, he knew how to wrench my heart, all right, but not like this.
On a sigh, I pick him up, push off the ground with one hand and stand with him. His arms go immediately around my
neck; he's careful this time not to choke me with his cast, but the face goes in the neck and he's sobbing
uncontrollably. "I didn't mean to scare you; I didn't. I'm sorry," he hiccups. "I couldn't stop myself."
I swear there's an audible click in my brain at those words.
He's under just as much compulsion as we are here, he may not have had any control over his actions, in which case
I really am going to have to handcuff him to me for the duration of our stay ... which, judging by the locked DHD, could
be indefinite.
And I owe him an apology.
We're here on this island because I couldn't resist the coercion, and I'm expecting Daniel - notorious aide of the
underdog, Daniel - to resist helping a thing in pain?
Yeah right, Jack.
I swallow hard. "Jesus, kid, you're gonna be the death of me yet."
"No! I promise I'll be good. I promise, Jack, I promise. Don't you leave me too!"
"Shhhh, shhhh, shhhhh," I soothe, rubbing his back. He's wrapped around me like a clinging vine with suckers; I
couldn't pull him off if I tried. "Daniel, it's just a figure of speech. I promise, I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry I yelled at
you, Sport. I didn't understand."
"I'm ... sorry ... I'm ... sorry!" Each word is punctuated with a heaving sob. "Please don't leave me ... I promise I'll be
good." He's edging toward hysteria.
Every word is like an ice pick stabbing repeatedly through my heart. "Shhhhh," I try massaging the back of his neck.
"Shhhhhh. It's my fault, not yours. Shhhhh, Daniel, don't do this. You're working yourself up over nothing and you're
breaking my heart here."
The arm with the cast slides down, probably too heavy to hold up anymore. I tuck it between us and try Hammond's
trick, cuddling and rocking and walking, until the sobbing turns into heaving gulps for air. "I'm sorry," he whimpers
again, "I'm sss ... ssorry."
"No, this is my fault. I never should have brought you here in the first place." I palm his head, slide my fingers into his
hair and press my cheek against his again. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm sorry I didn't understand you had no control
over your actions. And I'm sorry I let my being scared carry over into being mad at you. That wasn't fair."
The punctuation changes to gulps and sniffs. "I - love - you - Jack," followed by a deep sigh, "please don't leave me,"
and several more sniffs.
Ice pick again. "I love you too, Sport. I'm right here, feel my cheek against yours? I'm not going anywhere, Daniel."
Instead of using my shirt, a habit I've been trying to break, he wipes his nose with the back of his arm and heaves
another deep sigh before laying his head back down on my shoulder. "Are you still mad?" He's so congested it's
difficult to breath period, much less normally.
"I shouldn't have been mad in the first place and I'm very sorry I was."
Several more sniffs and then, "You still love me? Even though I didn't obey?"
Oh my God. "Hey, sit up and look at me, okay?" He doesn't want to and resists my efforts to get him to sit up. "Come
on, just for a minute, please?" I unwrap his arm from around my neck and lean back; like a magnet he leans too.
"Daniel! Just for a minute." Both shoulders come up around his ears and I have to raise his chin so he's reluctantly
looking me in the eye. "I love you and nothing you could do or say will ever change that. Even when I'm mad at you, it
doesn't change the fact that I still love you. I might not like some choices you make and I might even be angry at you
again, but I will always love you, even if I'm mad. Okay? We square on this issue?"
He eyes me for a moment before leaning into me again. I tuck him back under my chin as another round of tears soak
into the shirt. "Will you still love me if I get big again? `Cause I don't want to be big if you won't love me anymore."
I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I want to do both, though I do neither, only squeeze him tight again and whisper
in his ear, "I love you no matter what; big or little, even in between, if we have to go through those teenage years. I
will love you for the rest of our lives. And here's an added bonus, Sam and Teal'c love you just as much and will
continue to love you just as much if you get big again."
"You're sure?"
"Positive, Sport."
On another sigh, the finger goes in his mouth. "I'm very tired" he sniffs. "Is it okay if I sleep now?"
"Bet you are. You want to lie back down?"
"No," he says, and I wonder if there are more tears in need of shedding, given the amount of sniffling still going on. "I
want you to hold me."
"I can do that." I pat his back. "You go to sleep. I'm gonna go find Carter and Teal'c. Daniel?"
"What?"
"Are the tears all gone?"
"Noooooo." Sure enough, there are lots more. "I'm ... sorry."
"For crying?"
"Yes ... nooooooo ... I don't know," he's sobbing uncontrollably again. "I ... don't like it ... when you're ... mad at me."
I squeeze my eyes shut on a long sigh. "It's no fun for me either. And I have to tell you, most of the time I have no
business being mad at you to begin with. It's usually happens when you scare the bejeezus out of me."
"Oh," he says, on another sniffling sigh. "I'm sorry. I'll try not to do it again."
"This would be a good thing, but don't worry, I won't hold you to it."
"Jack?"
"Yes, Daniel?"
"What if other trees start waking up?"
"Maybe tomorrow the DHD will be back in service and we can go home, let's not borrow trouble tonight."
I can always hope.
"'kay." He wiggles `til he's squinched down with his ear against my heart. "Should I tell Sam and Teal'c sorry too?" he
asks sleepily, around the finger in his mouth.
"You don't have anything to be sorry for, Daniel, and I think they both already know that. It was just me who was too
stupid to get a clue."
"You're not stooopid." He draws out the word as only he can do. Once or twice, as an adult, he's shared his candid
opinion regarding some of my actions; when he's been totally exasperated with me.
"Just slow."
"Ummm," he says on a yawn, burrowing back into my neck. "I love you, Jack."
"I love you too, Sport."
"I love you better," he murmurs.
"Ahhhh, but I love you best."
"No, I love you bestest ... " the arm around my neck relaxes, though it remains curved loosely in place.
"I think you're right," I whisper to my sleeping kid. "You've always loved us bestest." I brush the hair back and kiss his
hot, sweaty forehead. "Sweet dreams, Sport."
My 2IC and comrade-in-arms are not too far down the beach. I find them sitting on the trunk of a palm tree grown
sideways out of the sandy soil.
"I owe both of you an apology," I say, without preamble. "I'm sorry I ever let us get coerced into coming here and I'm
sorry I didn't listen to either of you back there. Is there anything we can do to get home?"
"We could try hooking up the M.A.L.P.s power source to the Gate and dialing manually," Carter offers, "but I don't
think there's enough power. I doubt it would make a difference anyway. If the DHD is locked, the Gate's probably
locked too."
"Teal'c?"
"Majorcarter is correct, as usual." There's a hint of censure in his voice. "You understand, O'Neill, it is unlikely
Danieljackson had any control over his actions?"
"Yeah, he did finally get through to me on that."
`Sir, under the circumstances ..."
"It's my job to assess risk and minimize the danger. If I'd listened to him in the first place and taken him to the damn
tree, none of this would have happened."
For a few minutes the only sounds are the swish of the surf as it froths on the sand and the sigh of the breeze in the
palm fronds over our heads.
"Do you want me to try the M.A.L.P. power source, Sir?" Carter ventures finally, rubbing out whatever she was
drawing in the sand with her bare toe.
"No. At this point I think we should just head back to camp. There is no feeling of malevolence about this." I sigh. "If I
had stopped to think instead of just reacting to Daniel ..." I trail off, shake my head. `I don't know what it is about a
pint-sized archeologist, but it seems like I can't keep any frame of reference anymore when it comes to him. There's
no ... " I trail off again, frustrated.
I'm a United States Air Force Colonel, with decades of combat and command experience; I never make decisions
based on feelings. This is me we're talking about, the guy who needs to ask the Wizard for a heart. And yet, with this
downsized Daniel, it seems I have no ...
"Detachment?" Carter supplies.
"Yeah, that would be the word."
"To paraphrase Daniel, why should you?"
"Daniel?"
"Years ago, when we found Cassie and realized what the Goa'uld had done to her."
Teal'c stands and gives Carter a pull up from their unconventional bench. "I do not believe the presence here is
malevolent either, however, we would be wise to ensure Danieljackson cannot be forced to do anything against his
will."
"I'm tempted to handcuff him to me," I respond dryly, turning back toward camp.
"By the same token, O'Neill, we do not know if it would have harmed him had we managed to keep him from
responding. I believe our best course of action is to do as you suggested; let him be the guide. There appears to be
no injurious effect from his previous interaction.
"Right," I can't keep the sarcasm out of my voice, though I know with certainty Teal'c is right. "Let's let Daniel call the
shots and see where it lands us. Usually in trouble if memory serves me right. And that's not exactly what I said."
"Is it not?"
"No, I said if I'd listened to him in the first place and taken him to the tree, none of this would have happened."
"Never bandy words with the Colonel, Teal'c. He's far better with them than he lets on and he's got a memory like a
steel trap."
"Why thank you, Carter."
"That wasn't necessarily a compliment, Sir."
"It wasn't necessarily an insult either, Major."
"We'll call it draw then?"
I have no comeback for that, at least none I'm going to share tonight, and Daniel's arm tightens around my neck as I
lean over to put him down on his sleeping bag. He wakes enough to do his clinging vine act again. This time I'm
receptive to the message and take him to the fire with us where he gets plied with hot chocolate by Carter and a long,
rambling story from Teal'c. Daniel listens attentively for all of three minutes before drifting off again. I tune out too.
Surprisingly, despite the evening's hoopla, a hard to resist tranquility is creeping over me.
Conversation around the fire is desultory, until an hour later when Carter breaks a long silence with the observation,
"You know, for just having come down from an adrenalin rush, I feel pretty good. I'm not tired; I don't have the usual
headache that accompanies a rush like that; is it just me?"
"And I'm not pissed as hell that we're locked out of the DHD. No, Carter, I don't think it's just you."
"Strangely enough," Teal'c rumbles, "I am experiencing similar sensations to when my symbiote previously derived
great pleasure from something."
"Is that good, or bad, T?"
Across the fire, Teal'c raises the ubiquitous eyebrow. "It is not an unpleasant sensation, O'Neill, though it is rather
disquieting to be experiencing the effect of a symbiote I no longer possess."
None of us are anxious to go to bed, despite, or maybe because of the near euphoric effects we're all feeling. Carter
gets up to use the facilities and comes back announcing since the moon is up and lighting the bath so beautifully,
she's going back to her interrupted soak.
I have no arguments. For some strange, unjustifiable reason I'm certain we're done with the drama for tonight. I have
no idea why I'm certain, I just am. In and of itself, the feeling is disconcerting, but I'm feeling so mellow I don't even
bother to analyze it, just go with the flow.
We bank the fire and when Carter comes back, dripping, but quietly composed and serene this time, both she and
Teal'c turn in, tucking Daniel into his sleeping bag between them.
When Carter's alarm announces change of watch, I trade her sleeping bag for mine and settle down within touching
distance of Daniel. For awhile I lay looking up at the stars.
We're nine galaxies from home, yet some of the constellations look vaguely familiar. There's one very close to the
archer, Sagittarius; another that looks like Pisces, the fish, but those two don't belong in the sky at the same time, at
least not at home. If I fill in a couple of blank spots, I can just make out Canis Major, the Great Dog. I fall asleep
thinking of Teal'c's dog and even dream of it.
Except it's no dream.
Daylight is filtering through my eyelids. I don't want to wake up, let alone get up. Last night's euphoria has dissipated;
instead I'm feeling old and used up, and distinctly cranky. Especially when I roll over and find myself nose to snout
with a huge, silver white wolf wrapped around Daniel as if he was her pup. The enormous head is down on its paws.
One blue eye studies me lazily, the tail thumps once, and the eye closes again.
I'm reaching for my P-90 when Teal'c rumbles, "Do not, O'Neill."
"Give me one good reason."
"She is guarding Danieljackson."
Well, that's a good reason, but not a satisfactory one. "From what?" My fingers curl around the solid coolness of the
automatic weapon.
"Mmmm, Teal'c? I think your dog found us," Carter says, rolling over on the other side of Daniel and reaching out a
hand to pet the ... dog? The tail thumps again as Carter plunges her fingers into the thick fur and rubs
enthusiastically.
"Anybody else concerned that we have a wild animal in our camp, who thinks she's guarding our kid? Don't get me
wrong here, but isn't that our job? Aren't we supposed to be guarding him against things like, oh you know, wild
dogs?" I sit up slowly, sliding the P-90 onto my lap and get the equivalent of a doggy grin from She-Ra. "Carter?"
Carter's still has her fingers in the dog's fur. "I think she likes it."
"And I think you'll function better as my 2IC with all your fingers in tact, Major."
"The wolf has been in camp for several hours, O'Neill."
"And you didn't shoot it because, Teal'c?"
"She meant no harm."
"How the hell do you know that?" I, on the other hand, have every intention of inflicting harm. In one fluid motion I roll
out of my sleeping bag and onto my feet; I haven't gotten up that easily in countless years, and just a few minutes
ago I was feeling old and used up.
This place is confusing the hell outta me.
"I believe you would call it gut instinct."
It's a damn good thing she picked Teal'c's watch to wander into the camp, I'd have shot it on sight. I look down, trying
to decide whether I should wake Daniel or just let him be and the damn dog is grinning at me again. She's still got her
head down on her paws, but if that's not a shit-eating doggy grin, I don't know what is.
"Listen up, She-Ra, I'm lead dog in this camp and that's my kid you're curled around. You hurt him and your hide will
be so nailed to a board, drying in the sun." It's the best I can do, considering it's a dog. "So why don't you beat it while
you still can?"
"I do not believe you will find it easy to be rid of her, O'Neill. Perhaps her role is to shield Danieljackson from further
harm."
""From us?" I inquire with my usual wit and charm, slinging the P-90 over my shoulder as I head for the eons old
latrine.
"The island is waking up."
"Are you sure, Teal'c?" Carter says, sitting up as I do an about face.
"How do you know?"
"I have completed a circuit of this portion of the island already. I believe several more trees have awakened."
"Wait," I throw up a hand. "You didn't bother to wake either of us? And I repeat, how do you know?"
"The wolf does not guard just Danieljackson. And I do not `know' this to be true, O'Neill, it is merely a suspicion."
I open my mouth to reply, find I have nothing to say and close it abruptly. This is my worst nightmare come to life in
vibrant, living color. I have absolutely no control over the situation and there's a goddamned wolf guarding my kid. Oh
yeah, worst nightmare.
Here's hoping she'll be better at the job than I am.
The wolf yawns, showing a muzzle full of pearly white, long, sharp teeth. There's not even a hint of aggression, but
again the message is imprinted clearly on my mind. There's not a goddamn thing I can do about her, short of
shooting her, and somehow I don't think it matters that I'm the Colonel in this camp; my companions would shoot me
before they allowed me to shoot the dog.
Daniel's just waking as I come back into camp after performing my morning ablutions. Teal'c has the fire going again
and is making pancakes on the grill. Carter's already eating. I smell bacon and eggs too, and coffee. Teal'c doesn't
drink it, but when he has last watch, he never fails to have a pot on for Daniel when we get up. Even though it's just
Carter and me now, he's kept up the habit.
Before Daniel opens his eyes, he calls my name.
I snatch a cup of coffee and wind my way over to the wolf, smiling pleasantly at her as I drop to one knee beside her
and my kid. "Morning, Sport. Sleep well?"
"Mmmmm," he nuzzles his face in the soft fur. "Nice pillow."
Many of adult Daniel's habits have regressed with this incarnation; this is just one of them. Although it's much easier
to get him to sleep now; on the morning end, nothing's changed. Getting him up is still like pulling teeth; up and
showered and dressed takes a minimum of an hour, which is why we've reverted to a nighttime bath in our household.
That way it only takes half an hour to get him up and dressed in the morning; which is still ten minutes longer than it
took me to roll out of bed, shower, grab a cup of coffee, and be on my way to work, BD ... Before Downsizing.
I wait, curious to see what his reaction will be when he finally wakes and realizes he's acquired a new friend during the
night.
I think we're all a little startled, even the wolf, when he sits up abruptly, eyes wide and demands, "What happened?"
"Which time?" I inquire, sipping my very hot coffee.
He turns his unblinking gaze on me. "Last night. Is the tree ... the tree? I left the tree."
The dog raises her head and nuzzles him gently so he plops back down inside the circle of her tail and snout. Almost
like a parent testing for fever, she licks his cheek. Satisfied, the great head returns to its paws and she gives me a
wink.
"What happened to the tree?"
"You told me the tree was fine."
"I did? The tree's okay? I want to go see it."
"Right now? Or can it wait `til we've eaten breakfast and we can all go together?" I suppose I can at least try to follow
his lead.
Daniel glances from my face over to Teal'c at the fire, and I think, wakes up. He sniffs hungrily. "I'm starved, let's go
after breakfast." There's not one word about the dog, though he pats her absentmindedly on the head as he rises
again and steps over her tail.
Since he fell asleep on the walk back to camp late yesterday afternoon and didn't wake to eat, I'm not surprised he's
starved. As he wanders off to the facilities, the dog extends her hind legs, rising slowly as she stretches to her full
length, yawns, and trots after Daniel.
Yes, I know damn well I'm attributing human behavior to a dog for cryin' out loud. But like the trees, there's more to
this dog than meets the eye. Don't ask ... `cause I really don't want to delve too deeply into how I know. This is so not
my thing.
Teal'c hands me a plate and I take a seat next to Carter, on my own personal log. He silently hands a plate to Daniel
too, as Daniel meanders back into camp, followed by the dog.
"Who's your shadow, Daniel?" I inquire, thinking maybe that will get some kind of reaction.
"Huh?" He looks over at me, not quite covering a yawn. "Oh, she says you call her She-Ra. Why did you call her
that?" He makes a face. "Sam, can I have hot chocolate?"
"Sure. I brought the box."
"Daniel?" I inquire. "She says?"
"Uh huh. Can I make it myself?"
"Sure," Carter responds, getting up to get him the box of packages of hot chocolate. Ghirardelli, he's just switched his
snooty coffee genes for snooty hot chocolate genes. I suspect Carter's trying hard not to grin at my ineffectual
interrogation.
Teal'c sets pancakes, on a plate no less, on the ground for the dog, who eats them daintily, one bite at a time, then
trots back over to our bathtub for a long drink to wash everything down.
We hear her lapping away and Daniel pipes up, "Did you know that dogs have the cleanest mouth of any living animal
there is, including humans?"
"I'm still not bathing in the dog's water bowl," I mumble.
"They do," Daniel asserts, shooting me a look. The only thing with keener hearing than a little Daniel is a bat. "They
have bacteria in their saliva ..."
"Daniel, we're still eating." He opens his mouth to continue his pedantic lecture and I stuff a forkful of pancakes in.
"To be continued, after we're done eating, please. Dog saliva and breakfast are mutually exclusive topics."
"Breakfast isn't a topic, Jack."
"You're so right. Tell me about the dog, Daniel." I'm not easily sidetracked either. "Where'd she come from? What's
she doing here?" When is she going home? But I don't ask that one out loud.
"She says she'll go home when we go home."
Let's not even take into consideration that Daniel's answering questions I never asked because the dog told him the
answer, nor the fact Carter and Teal'c are acting like Daniel translating for a dog is a normal every day occurrence -
okay, maybe there is some truth to that, he can translate just about anything - but really, Dog? Is that like ... Budge?
"How is the dog talking to you?"
"The same way you talk to me," Daniel replies, looking at me as if it's a strange question and I've lost my marbles for
even asking it.
"We don't ... " I clear my throat, "talk like that, Daniel."
"We used to, when I was big," he says, without hesitation.
I blink at him. "Do you remember that?"
He looks away for the first time. "No, not really." Then back. "But sometimes you still talk to me that way; I just don't
know how to answer anymore."
I have to clear my throat again. "What's the dog's name?"
"She said you call her She-Ra," he repeats. "Why do you call her that, Jack?" He looks at the dog, now lying beside
him. "Oh, another cartoon character; like the Simpsons?"
"Uhm, not exactly." For some reason She-Ra, Princess of Power, just popped into my head when I saw the dog. It's a
cartoon Charlie used to watch years ago, some kind of take off on Wonder Woman, I think. "What would the dog like
us to call her?"
"She says She-Ra, Princess of Power will be fine; for now, anyway."
I hold back a sigh; just barely. "Daniel, do you know the dog?"
"Sure."
"Then what's her real name?"
"I don't know that, Jack. Animals never give their real name until they're sure they can trust you. And since she knows
I tell you everything," he says candidly, "she's not ready to tell me, `cause she's not sure she trusts you."
Right. I've been put in my place by a dog; a very large, very beautiful dog, but a dog, nonetheless. It's grinning at me
again and I could swear it's rolling its eyes.
"So," I get up to wash off my plate in the makeshift sink Teal'c's set up. "What's on the agenda for today?"
"After we go see the tree," Daniel states emphatically.
"After we go see the tree," I agree amicably. I find it extraordinary that I'm taking this in stride. Screaming trees,
talking dogs, even if it is sub vocal ... under any other circumstances ... Either we're on the island of the damned, or
we've all ascended to a higher ... plane of existence ... I turn around and look at the dog, who smiles at me and wags
her tail.
Damn dog.
Wolf, the dog responds prissily. In my mind the ghost of the words, `and don't you forget it,' linger long after I look
away.
Damn dog.
There's nothing this time, for which I'm grateful.
"Can I go in the water today?" Daniel wants to know.
"I don't see why not, your cast should be totally dry by now," Carter says, waving him over to check. "So, after we visit
the tree, do you want to go to the beach?"
"Can we, Jack?"
"This is vacation. We can do whatever we want."
"Yay! Let's go to the beach. Did you bring your bathing suit, Sam? Teal'c?"
"Yep," Carter says, rinsing her own dishes in the sink. "Here, give me your cup and plate, I don't want you getting
your cast wet again." She takes Daniel's dishes too, washes, rinses and sets everything to air dry. "Race ya to
change into your bathing suit," she offers Daniel.
"Okay!" Laughing, Daniel ducks inside the tent, emerging thirty seconds later in just his bathing suit. I'm relatively
certain he already had it on under his clothes.
"You little brat," Carter exclaims when she emerges twenty seconds later. "How'd you manage that? Come here and
let me put some more suntan lotion on you."
"Why? I never washed off the stuff you put on yesterday."
"Sorry, bud, doesn't work that way. Besides, yesterday you were wearing a shirt and pants."
"Oh. I don't want it on my face again, it doesn't taste good."
"Too bad. If you're going in the water, it's going on your face. The water reflects the sun and you can get a worse
burn in the water than out. Close your eyes."
"I don't ..."
"And your mouth," Carter warns.
Daniel grunts his displeasure.
Teal'c and I get special dispensations to change and we're off on our quest to find Daniel's tree. Which is much less
hassle than I expect as he leads us right to it.
The dog won't let him near it until she's sniffed the perimeter thoroughly, and watered the roots for good measure.
She goes up a notch or two in my estimation.
Daniel inspects the tree as thoroughly as the dog inspected the perimeter, pronounces it fine and trots off after the
dog, disdaining the path to cut back through the forest to the beach.
The pile of shells he gathered yesterday, and deposited on the sand well up from the high tide line, looks like it's
been raided. Or some of his acquisitions grew legs and dragged themselves back down to the water. There are
several zigzagging lines leading down to the water's edge and the pile has dwindled considerably. He scampers along
the zigzags, stopping every now and then to lean down and poke his finger between the lines. "Escapees!" he
chortles. "Teal'c, did you know they had animals inside?" he asks, scooping up a shell and running to the Jaffa.
"Does this one?" He holds up a cross between a corkscrew and a conch shell.
Teal'c has proven quite the naturalist, a talent we had no idea he possessed until he took on the job of home
schooling Daniel. He takes the shell now and examines it closely. "There is no longer an animal inside this shell,
Danieljackson."
"Did you know there were animals in the others?" Daniel repeats, sticking his left index finger as far into the opening
of the shell as he can. It's shaped like a corkscrew shell, long and narrow, except it's about ten times larger than the
little inch long things we find on beaches at home and the outside of the shell is the swirled, glossy pink and white of
the inside of a conch shell. Beautiful, but very alien.
Instead of putting the pile in a bucket and bringing them all to Teal'c, or taking Teal'c to the pile, Daniel reverently
brings them one at a time. Many of them Teal'c can name and they have names like cochita; no, they look nothing
like our tiny coquina shells; and burmuse and zelips; and they look as strange as they sound.
Daniel's happy hunting them no matter how strange they look, or what they're called. But there's only so much space
in his office for more `stuff' and this is the kind of thing that will have to stay on base.
I can see we're going to have to have a discussion before long about how much of this can go home with us.
With the dog entertaining Daniel, Carter, Teal'c and I manage to snatch a few moments of uninterrupted time to talk
about how we're going to manage this transition.
"I've discussed this theoretically with Hammond and I think he'll give you the command, Major, and let us pick SG-1's
successors." I look over at her. She's stretched out on her stomach on a blanket, face in an elbow, slick with suntan
oil; browning up nicely, like onions in a frying pan.
Teal'c and I are sitting in the shade, on another blanket, while Daniel and She-Ra are splashing in the surf.
There's a lot of barking and laughing going on down there. They're playing with a small wooden surf board with a
detachable rope handle. Daniel sits on the board, the dog grabs the rope in her mouth and tows him at a rapid trot
through the shallow water until he falls off, at which point the dog barks, jumping and splashing in the surf, Daniel
cackles with glee, and they turn around and do it all over again. They've been at this for over an hour now and
neither of them appears to be tiring. I'm exhausted just watching.
"I don't think so, remember we've been through this once already, Colonel."
"Believe me, I haven't forgotten. However, the circumstances are entirely different. It's not a sting operation, we don't
have any suspects and we're light years beyond where we were back then, Major."
"What?" Carter shoves up on her elbows, half rising. "You suspected Colonel Makepeace? You never told us that!"
"I didn't?"
"You suspected him and you let General Hammond put him in charge of SG-1 without warning us?"
I wince.
Dammit. How have I managed to keep my mouth shut all these years, only to blow it now? "Carter, it worked out fine,
in the end."
"It did not work out fine, Sir. Daniel still has scars from that episode."
"He never ..."
"Did I ever tell you he got in Hammond's face when the General didn't give me the command?"
"No, but Ha