Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

A death glider screamed overhead and Daniel ducked, instinctively covering his head. As soon as it was gone, he looked up, waving people forward. "Okay, come on, come on. Don't panic, we'll have you out of here in a minute," he urged, desperately hoping that he was telling them the truth.

This was incredible, he'd never seen anything like it, and he hoped he never would again. He still didn't understand what was happening. Nasyia was a peaceful planet. The people were friendly but simple, definitely not advanced enough for the goa'uld to care about. This attack didn't make any sense.

Then again, violence rarely made sense.

Jack ran towards him, struggling to carry a young boy in his arms. Teal'c appeared at Daniel's side and Jack handed the boy over. "I gotta go back for Carter," he said, turning on his heel and heading back into the fray. Daniel set the boy down and gave him a push, sending him through the event horizon. "Teal'c?"

"I shall retrieve O'Neill and Captain Carter," Teal'c said. "You will remain here."

Teal'c ran off and Daniel stood there for a second, not seeing the blast that knocked him off his feet. Seeing new victims, he scrambled to his feet, stumbling as he hurried over to the injured man. "Medic!" he yelled. Getting no response and seeing the Jaffa advancing, he grabbed the fallen man, dragging him towards the Stargate.

He fought his way up the stairs and across the event horizon, tripping and falling out the other side. Almost immediately, two medics were at his side, pulling both of them out of the way of the gate.

"I want a full medical quarantine until these people can be examined," Hammond ordered, yelling out his commands to be heard over the chaos of the retreat. "Colonel O'Neill and the rest?"

"Right behind me, and a dozen Jaffa right behind them," Daniel reported, staring at the flickering blue surface. As if in answer to his prayers, Jack, Sam and Teal'c stumbled through, chased by a cloud of gas and dust. Sam was limping heavily and it was obvious that the two men were supporting her.

"Close the iris!" Teal'c yelled. The metal blades snapped shut and silence rushed in.

"Are you ok?" Hammond asked the trio.

"Captain Carter injured her leg," Teal'c reported, helping her down the ramp.

"I just tripped," she said, making a face at the gurney.

"Jack, are you ok?" Daniel asked, frowning at the smear of blood on his shirt.

He shook his head. "I just fell over the guy Carter was trying to help," he dismissed. "Blood's not mine."

"I want all of you down to the infirmary," Hammond ordered. "You too Doctor Jackson. We'll debrief when you're clear."

<><><><><>

Sam sat on the gurney, her left leg propped out in front of her. Janet was carefully taking off her boot and sock. "I don't know what happened," she said.

Janet rolled up her pants leg and examined her. "I don't see any signs of bruising," she said, craning her neck and manipulating Sam's leg. "Has it been giving you any trouble lately?"

Sam shook her head. "It just hurts."

"What do you mean?"

"It…hurts," Sam said. Janet stared at her, silently urging her to elaborate. "Like it aches…a lot. On the planet it just…gave out."

"Why didn't you say anything earlier?" Janet asked.

"I thought all broken bones hurt," Sam said, wincing at how lame the excuse sounded.

Janet smiled. "They do. But it shouldn't hurt this bad, not after four months." She set Sam's leg down. "I want to do an MRI of your leg."

"Do you think something's wrong?" Sam asked. "I thought the frostbite was all healed."

"It is. Even though your leg will always be sensitive to heat or cold. I just want to make sure nothing else is going on."

"What do you think it is?" Sam asked, concerned.

"If I knew that, I wouldn't need the MRI," Janet said, smiling reassuringly. "I'll call over to the Academy Hospital and get you scheduled for this afternoon."

"I have a briefing-"

"And then I'll make your excuses to the general," she continued. "Why don't you go get cleaned up," she suggested looking over her shoulder at the crowded room. "Most of the evacuees are going to be sent to the Academy Hospital and I'm going to follow them. If you can make it back in about half an hour, I'll give you a ride."

"Ok." Sam slid off the gurney, gingerly putting weight on her leg. The stabbing pain that had assailed her on the planet was gone, replaced by the normal dull ache.

She limped out of the infirmary, cursing herself for not speaking up earlier. She hadn't been exaggerating when she said her leg had been hurting for months. But she'd also attributed that pain to the combination of her broken ankle and the healing tissue damage caused by the frost bite. And there had also been several weeks of physical therapy, which often left her with muscle spasms and cramps that only Pete's skilled hands seemed to alleviate.

She'd finally been cleared to return to active duty just a month ago, barely in time to travel with her team on their renegade mission to stop Apophis' attack on Earth. She was still catching hell from Pete on that one. He may not be military, but he sure as hell had his opinions on following orders. Of course, she also thought shuttle envy had a little to do with it.

Finding the locker room empty, she entered, flipping the sign over to female and setting the deadlock on the door. Unlocking her locker, she pulled out a clean set of clothes and her toiletries and made her way into the shower area. It took her twenty minutes to shower and get dressed and she limped back out into the hall, her hair still damp.

She should be in time to catch Janet before she drove to the hospital. If she was lucky, Sam figured she'd be home in time for dinner.

<><><><><>

"Charlie, we're going to be late," Sara said, glancing back at her son and Cassie as they trailed behind her.

He and Cassie were dawdling behind, chatting with each other. Sara sighed and stopped, waiting for the pair to catch up. She swore, if you didn't know that they weren't blood siblings, you wouldn't know. They'd really grown close in the past six months and, despite her earlier misgivings, the girl had settled into the family.

Things weren't perfect, not by a long stretch. Cassie often had bad nightmares, sometimes waking the whole house. Last week, both of the kids were grounded for fighting. But, all things considered, it could have been worse.

Sara just hoped that they'd be able to get Cassie up to speed on her reading so that she could go to a normal school next year. Right now, she was being tutored by a teacher from the academy. This was why Cassie was accompanying them to Charlie's doctor's appointment.

Sara had no doubt that the girl would catch up on the academics, but the cultural stuff was just going to take time.

"Coming," Charlie said, catching up with her. "What is Cassie going to do while I'm with Doctor Rogers?"

"She's just going to have to wait," Sara said, frustration creeping into her voice. Going from a single child to near twin household hadn't exactly been easy, although they were managing.

"I brought my book," Cassie said, holding up the small bag.

"Yes, you did," Sara said. "And, as soon as Charlie's done, we're going to get some lunch," she promised, looking at her watch. Damnit, Jack, where are you, she asked herself. He'd promised her that he'd be here.

Because of his injuries, Charlie had quarterly appointments with his neurologist, appointments that Jack never missed.

"Where's dad?" Charlie asked.

"I'm sure he'll be here," Sara said. "He probably got caught up at work."

She led the children into the hospital, making her way to Doctor Roger's office. If Jack didn't show up she'd…..oh he'd be spending more time on the couch that was for sure.

"Mrs. O'Neill."

"Sam!"

Sara looked, surprised to see Captain Carter standing beside the elevators. "Captain, hi." The woman knelt down, allowing Cassie to give her a hug.

"Cass, are you ok?" Carter asked, frowning.

"She's fine. I have to go see the doctor," Charlie said.

"You do?" Carter asked.

"Just a normal appointment," Sara reassured. "Is everything ok with you?"

Carter smiled. "Yeah, I'm just having a test done," she said. "They tried to do it last night but the MRI was acting up."

Sara nodded. "I don't suppose you've seen Jack lately?"

Carter frowned. "Umm, not since last night, sorry. Is he supposed to be here?"

"Yeah," Sara said. "Maybe he's upstairs." Sara pushed the button to summon the elevator. The car arrived and the four of them got in.

"I brought my book to read while I wait," Cassie said.

"Good for you," Carter cheered her on.

The elevator opened and Sara stepped towards the door. "Here we are," she said.

"Can I wait with Sam?" Cassie asked.

"What?"

"I want to wait with Sam," she said, her voice edging towards a whine.

Carter looked a bit uncomfortable as she met Sara's gaze. "Cassie, I'm sure Mrs. O'Neill would rather you stay with her," she said.

"But-"

"And you're just going to be sitting in a waiting room while the run their test," she said.

Sara looked at Cassie, noticing the fallen expression. "You know what? One waiting room isn't much different than another," Sara said. "Cassandra, if you want to go wait with Captain Carter, that's fine," she agreed.

"Are you sure, ma'am?" Carter asked.

Sara nodded. "Our appointment should take about an hour. We can meet you in the cafeteria. You can even join us for lunch," she invited impulsively.

"Oh, no I couldn't-"

"Sure you can," Sara said, feeling the need to reach out to the woman. There was a part of her that felt jealous of the captain. After all, she got to share a part of Jack's life that Sara would never have access to. They had experiences and adventures together, and then Sara got to discuss which wall paper she wanted to use and whether or not to get the yard landscaped.

But she also felt the need to get to know the woman because she knew that, for all their adventures, Captain Carter also had the unenviable task of watching Jack's back. According to Jack, if it hadn't have been for the woman's efforts down in the Antarctic, the SGC never would have found them. She owed the captain her husband's life, and a lunch or two seemed to be the least she could do.

"Meet you down there in about an hour?" Sara asked.

Carter nodded. "Ok. Thank you," she said as Sara and Charlie stepped off the elevator.

An hour and a half later, Sara led Charlie into the cafeteria, scanning the room for the young captain. She saw them sitting in the corner, half full glasses of soft drinks in front of them. Sara waved and led Charlie over to them. "Sorry we're late," she apologized.

"That's ok," Carter said her mood subdued.

"I finished my book," Cassie said, holding the book up triumphantly. She was learning fast, already up to a third or fourth grade reading level.

"That's great," Sara enthused.

"Mom, can I get a drink?" Charlie asked.

"Charlie, we're going to be eating lunch in a little bit-"

"But Cassie has one."

"Cassie's been waiting longer."

"Only because she went with Sam," he bickered.

Sara took a deep breath, ready to lose her temper with her son. He knew the rules. "You'll ruin your appetite," she said evenly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Carter apologized.

"That's ok," Sara dismissed. "Happens all the time. And if I want to be honest, Jack is the worst offender." She lowered her voice. "He is a junk food junkie. He'll snack all day then eat a full meal. I swear if it wasn't for his metabolism, he'd weigh a ton."

The woman smiled slightly, the expression confined only to her lips. Impulsively, Sara pulled a couple of bills out of her wallet and handed them to Cassie. "Cassandra, why don't you go show Charlie where you got your drink," she said, trying to secure privacy with Carter.

"Really?"

"Yeah, go on." Sara waited until they were out of ear shot and looked to Carter. "Are you ok?" she asked, reaching out to touch the woman's arm.

"What?" She looked up, like she was startled.

Sara shrugged. "You look like whatever that test was, it wasn't good."

"It's aah-"

"Hey, there you are." Colonel O'Neill leaned over his wife's shoulder and pecked her on the cheek. "I'm sorry I'm late," he apologized. As Sara watched, Carter looked down, clearly changing her mind on confiding in her. "Hammond greeted me at the door this morning with a stack of mission reports that just HAD to be done."

"That's ok," Sara said slowly, frowning at her husband's tone of voice. He didn't sound remorseful, but almost boisterous, like he was trying too hard to be cheerful. "Doctor Rogers didn't have anything new to say."

"He didn't?"

"No. Just that Charlie was progressing like he'd expected and that he was responding well to the physical therapy," Sara reported. Their son went to therapy twice a week now, which was a far cry from his daily sessions in the weeks after his accident. Sara knew that he'd probably always have a limp and some weakness in his left side, but the hope was that Charlie could be as normal as possible.

"I aah, need to get back to work," Carter said, getting up from the table.

"You were going to join us for lunch," Sara reminded.

Carter shook her head. "Thank you, but I have a funny feeling some of those reports General Hammond wants are mine. Sir, Mrs. O'Neill."

She hurried away and Sara turned, frowning as the woman nearly fled the cafeteria. "So, where are we going for lunch?" Jack asked, quickly sliding into the woman's abandoned seat.

"Did that seem strange to you?" Sara asked,

"What?"

"Captain Carter. How she just zoomed out of here. It was strange."

Jack shook his head. "She was born strange," he dismissed.

"Jack," Sara protested as the kids joined them.

"Dad. You came." Charlie slid into the chair next to him. Cassie was behind him. She walked towards Jack then slowed, the smile fading from her face.

"Cassie?" The girl slowly edged towards her, sliding to stand at Sara's back. Sara turned in the chair and stretched out her arms, wrapping them around Cassie's waist. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" Cassie didn't answer but edged further behind Sara, like she was trying to hide. "Cassie?" Sara turned to Jack. "What's wrong with her?"

Jack shrugged, getting to his feet. "I don't know. So, Charlie, where do you want to go for lunch?"

Sara stared, watching as Jack led Charlie out of the cafeteria. She looked back to Cassie, frowning at the fear and puzzlement on the girl's face. "Hon, are you ok?" Cassie stared at her and slowly nodded. "Do you want to go get something to eat?" She shook her head. "Ok. How about we let the boys go out and we'll go get a sandwich on our own," she suggested. "How does that sound?"

"Ok," Cassie finally said her voice small and hesitant.

"Then let's go," Sara said, trying to sound enthusiastic. She reached out and took Cassie's hand. Together they left the cafeteria, catching sight of Jack and Charlie waiting down the hall. "We just need to go ditch the boys before we go have some fun."

<><><><><>

George Hammond leaned back in his chair, watching as three members of SG-1 briefed him on their mission to Nasyia. Normally when a team returned under fire, George preferred to brief as soon as possible, however Captain Carter's medical issue delayed things. Then Colonel O'Neill had a family issue. George's first inclination had been to delay the briefing even longer, however with a couple hundred refugees to deal with; he really needed to have a handle on the situation.

"There hadn't been any Goa'uld interference on this planet for over three centuries. The Nasyians are... are... were a peaceful people. They were eager to form an alliance and aid us in setting up a research outpost," Jackson reported. "There was no warning this attack was coming. We hadn't even spotted the mother ship by the time the Gliders assaulted the village."

"It's not normal for the Goa'ulds to suddenly just show up and wipe out peaceful people for no apparent reason, is it?" George asked.

Jackson nodded. "In the past there was usually some reason, most often they seem to attack civilizations that are advancing to a point where their technology could be a threat, but that
wasn't the case here."

"Maybe they found out we were there," Carter suggested.

"Well how could they know?" Jackson asked. "Or more importantly, why did this particular Goa'uld care?"

"It is possible that they have a renewed interest in response to our recent interaction with Apophis," Teal'c said.

Jackson shrugged. "Well, the truth is we still understand very little about their society."

"I have seen the Goa'uld wipe out entire civilizations - no reason, simply because it gave them pleasure," Teal'c said.

"So what, Nasyia was just next on the list? Part of me wishes it was that simple, but I don't want to underestimate them," Carter said.

"We may never know why they attacked," Hammond said. "What's the status of the Nasyian survivors?"

"Well, we managed to rescue 237 people. The critically burned and some of the overflow our infirmary couldn't handle were transferred to the Air Force Academy hospital. The rest are awaiting relocation," Jackson said.

He leaned forward. "Sir, I think it's important to try and find the reason why Nasyia became a Goa'uld target."

"Agreed! But relocation is the first priority. I'm assigning the three new SG teams 10 through 12 to coordinate with you. I want these people relocated as soon as possible. Dismissed." He got to his feet and the others did the same.

"Sir?" Carter said. George turned to face her. "Can I have a moment?"

Hammond nodded and waved her towards his office. He sat down and motioned for them to take a seat. "What can I do for you, Captain?"

"Sir, I don't think I'm going to be much help with the relocation."

"Why is that?"

"I know Doctor Fraiser will be down to tell you, but she's taking me off active duty for a time," she said slowly.

"Captain? What's wrong?" George asked, immediately concerned.

"She found out what happened on the planet. Apparently, the fracture didn't heal quite right and the bone is infected. At least that's what she thinks it is. They're going to do a biopsy tomorrow to make sure. It's going to take a bit to get it taken care of," she said, her voice calm. But George could see beyond the façade and read the fear in her eyes. He wasn't a medical doctor, but he did know a thing or two about injuries. And enough to know that infections in the bone are one of the worst kinds to have. "I can still work here, sir. But given what happened on the planet, Doctor Fraiser feels that it'd be best for me to be off active duty and out of the off world rotation."

"That seems reasonable," George agreed. "Have you told Colonel O'Neill yet?"

"No, sir. I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet."

George nodded. "Ok. Inform Colonel O'Neill and I'll assign a replacement when SG-1 scouts for new homes for the Nasyians."

"Thank you, sir." She got to her feet and turned to leave the room.

"Captain?"

"Sir?" She turned back.

"Take care," he said sincerely.

"I will, sir." She smiled and left the room. George sighed, not looking forward to finding a replacement for the woman. Then again, that was all part of command. He just hoped the replacement he found was to be temporary, not permanent.

<><><><><>

Sam walked into her lab, not bothering to hide her limp once she was out of the hallway. She sat down in her chair and pulled her left leg up, resting her ankle on her knee. She rubbed her calf, knowing that it wouldn't alleviate the bone deep ache, but feeling the need to do something.
Doctor's Frasier's words echoed in her memories as she sat there. Osetomyletis. Biopsy. Antibiotic therapy. Amputation.

She was scared. More scared than she'd ever been on any mission. More scared than she'd been at any time during her relationship with Jonas.

Lose her leg. It was such a bland term. Lose it. Yeah, like she was just going to leave it lying somewhere. Or maybe it'd be like a sock in the dryer, it'd just vanish. She'd just wake up in the morning and it'd be gone. Maybe she could run a lost and found ad.

The absurdity of her thoughts hit her and she choked slightly, bringing her hand up to her mouth. Lose her leg. She couldn't lose her leg. They'd discharge her. That much was certain. There wasn't much room in the military for cripples.

The phone rang and she gasped, fumbling for the receiver. "Carter," she said, hoping that her voice sounded normal.

"Captain Carter, this is Sara O'Neill."

"Mrs. O'Neill, is something wrong?"

"It's Cassie-"

"Is she ok?"

"Yeah, no, actually. Captain, could you come over here please?" she asked.

"Ma'am?"

"Cassie's locked herself in her room and she won't come out," Mrs. O'Neill said.

"Ma'am, I haven't seen Colonel O'Neill all day and-"

"I don't want Jack to come home," she interrupted. "Cassie is asking for you, and only you," she said. Sam could hear the panic and hopelessness in the woman's voice. "Captain, I know I'm asking a lot, but I don't know what else to do. She's locked herself in her room, she's in a total panic, and she won't come out and says the only person she trusts is you."

"I'll be right here," Sam said, making her decision in an instant. She hung up the phone and pulled open her desk drawer, retrieving her purse. Not even bothering to change, she hurried out of the mountain.

<><><><><>

Sara paced back and forth, hurrying to the front window every time she heard a car drive by. "It takes dad at least half an hour to get home," Charlie said from his place on the sofa. "It'll probably take Sam longer."

Sara shot him a look and glanced at the stairs, hoping she could see Cassie standing there. She had no idea what had gotten into the girl. She'd been fine earlier in the day after they'd left the hospital. After eating Sara had returned to the house to find Jack and Charlie already waiting, the two of them settling for a quick hamburger instead of the restaurant meal Sara and Cassie had eaten.

Noting that she needed groceries, Jack had volunteered to keep the kids at home for an hour so Sara could go shopping without them tagging along. She'd come home and Jack had left. It'd taken her a couple of hours to realize that Cassie was in her room and several minutes after that to discover that the girl was barricaded in.

A car door slammed and Sara hurried to the window, sighing when she recognized the woman limping up her front path. "She's here," she said needlessly to Charlie as she walked past him and made a bee line to the door. She pulled it open just as Carter stepped onto the porch. "I am so glad you're here," she said.

"What's wrong with her?" Carter asked.

"She's locked in the room and won't come out," Charlie said.

"It took me an hour just to get her to talk to me. I was on the verge of calling the police, and then she said she'd only come out for you," Sara said.

"Why me?" Carter asked.

"She likes you," Charlie said, not realizing how those words affected Sara. Yes, Cassie did like the captain. Even Jack knew that they had a special bond that he or Sara would never be able to break. That was one reason Sara had been rather unsure about the woman, until she realized that Carter was going out of her way to not interfere and actually seemed to be trying to help Sara and Jack foster a strong relationship with the girl, despite the fact that Sara now knew the captain had wanted to keep Cassie for herself.

"She's up in her room," Sara said. Carter nodded and started up the stairs. "Stay down here," Sara ordered her son.

"Mom-"

"Charlie," she warned.

"Ok," he moaned, plopping back down on the sofa. Sara crept up the stairs, trying to get close enough to hear while keeping her distance, not wanting to spook the girl.

"Cassie, it's me," she heard Carter say. "Can I come in?" Sara moved just a few feet away, close enough to hear but still out of sight. Carter glanced over at her and shrugged. "Cassie? Can I come in?" she repeated.

The lock on the door clicked and Sara sighed in relief as the white painted door slowly opened. Carter pushed it the rest of the way and slowly slipped into the room. "Hey. Your mom says you're a little upset about something." Cassie was sitting on the floor, her back pushed into a corner of the room. Sara stepped into view and the girl's head shot up, but she didn't respond, her gaze going quickly back to Captain Carter. "What happened?"

"He's going to kill me," Cassie said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Who? Who's going to kill you?" Carter asked, frowning furiously.

Cassie glanced at Sara, her face full of fear. "Dad," she whispered.

"Oh, no Cassie. Your dad won't do that," Carter said.

"Yes he will," she insisted.

Carter glanced over her shoulder then turned her attention back to Cassie. "I'm sure, even if he said something, he didn't mean it. Sometimes grown ups say things that they don't mean."

"He meant it," she said sincerely.

"Cassie, your dad loves you. He'd never do anything to hurt you," Carter insisted.

"He would now."

"Why?"

"He's a goa'uld."

"What?" Sara demanded.

"Cassie, what are you talking about?" Carter asked.

"You don't believe me."

"I do," Carter insisted. "Just tell me how you know that your dad is a goa'uld," she requested.

"I could feel something strange at the hospital any time that I got close to him. And then, when you were at the store, I saw him."

"You saw what?" Sara asked.

"He knew that I could feel something and he came over to me and he picked me up and his voice got all funny and his eyes glowed and he told me if I ever told anyone he'd kill me," she said, the words spilling out in a rush. As she talked, tears welled up in her eyes and her voice started to quiver.

"Oh sweetie, it's gonna be ok," Carter said, wrapping her arms around the girl.

"Captain?" Sara asked, trying to reconcile the fact that her daughter had just accused her husband of being an alien.

"I don't know," she said, her hand soothing the girl's back as Cassie clung to her. "But I've got to call General Hammond."

"This could all be…" Sara broke off, not wanting to call Cassie a liar to her face. "A misunderstanding," she edited.

"It could be, but we can't take the risk," Carter said. "If she's right, he has to be contained."

<><><><><>

Jolinar of Malkshur walked down the odd gray corridor, striving to keep a look of confidence and calm upon her host's face. Close. She was so close. She could feel the chaappai just a few levels away, the naqahdah setting her blood to humming. It took all of her control not to push her way into that control room and leave this accursed planet.

Patience, she told herself, patience. She knew from plumbing her host's memories that he was due to go on a mission in the near future. That was when she would leave. It would be very simple. All she needed to do was to get past earth's initial defenses and onto another planet.

Most planets, she knew, did not guard their chaappai as the Tau'ri did. There would be no need to 'hack' into a computer or risk capture or injury. She and her host would be able to leave, unscathed and unnoticed, for a short time, at least. The other members of his team would surely note his abandonment of them. However, it did not matter if they noticed, just that they did nothing to prevent her leaving until it was too late.

Her host fought her and she slowed, devoting more of her efforts into controlling him. He was strong. Very strong. He did not fear her, not in the normal way a host feared a symbiote. He knew what she was, even if it was at the most basic knowledge of her species. He called her goa'uld, and ignored her when she tried to correct him.

She was not a goa'uld, not an abuser. She had tried to explain that to him, but he had ignored her, stubbornly sticking to his opinion that she was a bastard goa'uld. He was spirited. Normally she would admire his spirit and strength. But now she found it bothersome. The more he fought her, the more of her energy she had to devote to controlling him. She didn't like to control, it was not her way. However, she had no choice. She knew from digging into his memories that, if she was discovered, she would be imprisoned. And that could not happen. The knowledge she bore was too vital to lose it while she spent days or weeks trying to free herself.

No. It was best if they never knew that she was here.

A few more hours. That was all she needed. A few more hours. Then SG-1 would be assigned its mission and she could leave this world. She could go home, insure that her knowledge was relayed to her fellow Tok'ra and the search could begin for a host to replace this one. Presuming, of course, that he did not make peace with their blending and wish to maintain it.

A part of her hoped that this would happen. Her host was an honorable man, strong and brave. He would make a fantastic Tok'ra and she knew that his tactical knowledge would assist them greatly. However, his gender would be a bit of an issue. Many of the Tok'ra hosts were acceptable to same gender relationship, but this host was not. She knew that he would find the idea of being intimate with Lantash and Martouf to be abhorrent. Which meant that she would likely be leaving him, either in favor of a female host, or a male host who possessed no gender bias.

"Jack!" Jolinar turned identifying the person walking towards her.

"Daniel," she greeted, planning to do everything she could to keep this conversation short. She had already had one close call this day, surprisingly discovering that the young alien girl, and the naqahdah in her blood, had given her the ability to sense the presence of a symbiote.

This was not something that Jolinar had expected. All symbiotes could sense the presence of another, yet it had never been determined what gave them that ability. Because of that, she'd felt no need to keep herself from the girl's presence. Fortunately, she'd been able to silence the child, for the time being anyway. She had no doubt that Cassandra would eventually share her knowledge. Jolinar just hoped that it would take a few more hours before her secret was known.

"I'm aah, I'm surprised that you're here," Daniel said, catching up with him.

"Where else would I be? Seeing as we ship out to find the Nasyians a new home in a couple of hours?" Jolinar asked, trying to keep her host's voice casual.

"I'm just…with Cassie and all, I thought you'd be home," Daniel said.

"What's wrong with Cassie?"

"Well, what I've heard is that she's locked in her room. Sam went to go and see if she could talk her out," Daniel explained.

"Carter has no business leaving. Not without telling me and not considering that we need to go off world in a little bit," Jolinar said, drawing on her host's sudden burst of anger and concern.

"I thought she told you."

"Told me what?"

"Sam's not going off world," Daniel said. "She has a doctor's appointment this afternoon for her biopsy."

"What's wrong with her?" Jolinar suddenly regretted ignoring her host's suggestions to read the information that had been waiting for them when they'd arrived at the facility this morning. Jolinar knew that it was part of his normal routine to assimilate such information, but she'd thought his urgings were just a way to fight her and distract her.

"Her leg's infected. She's going to have some heavy duty treatment to see if they can save it," Daniel said.

"Really? That's too bad," Jolinar said, schooling her host's face into one of concern. While she experienced her host's worry for the captain, her attention was diverted by the man's other words. Carter was talking to Cassandra. That was not good. If the girl would confide in anyone, it would be the captain. They would know.

Suddenly realizing that she was out of time, she spun on her heel, suddenly seeing the narrow gray halls not as a refuge but as a prison. She would never make it through the chaappai, not now. If the Tau'ri did not know of her presence, they would soon.

Out. She had to get out. Find somewhere to hide. Find another way to get off this planet and go back home.

"Jack!" Daniel called after him. "Where are you going? Jack!"

Jolinar ignored him, her sole focus now getting free. She needed to get out of here and find somewhere safe.

<><><><><>

"What precisely happened here?" Hammond demanded, studying the quartet of people gathered around the briefing room table, Doctor Fraiser joining the three remaining members of SG-1.

"We don't have all the details, sir, but I think it's a safe bet that there was a goa'uld presence on Nasyia," Sam said, feeling the need to state the obvious.

"You said there wasn't."

"Initially, sir, we didn't see any signs," she said. "Usually if there's a goa'uld, there's a palace or mine or something like that. What we saw was a peaceful village." She shrugged. "Appearances were obviously deceiving."

"Or maybe we just saw what we wanted to see," Daniel said.

"Daniel?"

"Well, think about it. Kawalsky walked around this base for days and we never knew that he had a goa'uld. When we analyzed the MALP readings, we just assumed that if there was a goa'uld presence, it would be obvious."

"But everyone that we talked to said that it had been generations since the goa'uld had been there," she reminded.

"Major Kawalsky's goa'uld was immature," Janet said. "It was unable to exert full control over the host."

"True," Daniel conceded. "But you examined Jack yesterday and until Doctor Warner did a MRI on Kawalsky, we didn't know. The goa'uld obviously has some way of entering the host other than through the back of the neck. A way that doesn't leave a mark."

Janet shrugged. "The parasite's goal is to attach itself to the brain stem. The soft tissue at the back of the throat could work. It's also possible that it can enter the body another way, maybe in the abdomen and work its way up to the neck," she theorized.

"Oh, my god," Sam muttered. "On the planet, I…my leg hurt and I tripped. The colonel came back for me but he fell over this body. There was some blood but he just said he bit his tongue and that it was no big deal."

"You think it's possible that's when it happened?" Hammond asked.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I just…things were confusing with the attack and all but I think that's really the only time we were separated. And Doctor Fraiser mentioned the blood."

"If Colonel O'Neill really bit his own tongue hard enough to make it bleed, I would have seen some sign of it," Fraiser said.

"This still doesn't explain why there were no signs of a goa'uld presence on the planet," Hammond said

"What if, that's because the goa'uld didn't want there to be," Daniel suggested.

"Doctor Jackson?"

"What if the goa'uld wasn't there to conquer the planet, he was there to hide?"

"It is possible," Teal'c said. "However a goa'uld's natural need to rule and dominate makes such a tactic unlikely."

"Not if they were on the run and afraid for their lives," Daniel insisted. "As far as we know, goa'uld live for centuries-millennia maybe. Hiding for twenty to thirty years would be like going away for the weekend."

"So, presuming Cassandra is right and there is a goa'uld in Colonel O'Neill, it could simply vanish for a couple of decades?" Hammond asked.

"I don't think so, sir," Sam spoke up.

"Captain?"

"Sir, there's a difference between Earth and other planets, and that's accessibility to the Stargate. It's possible that the goa'uld didn't mean to come here, it just got caught up in the evacuation."

"If that is true, it will not wish to remain here," Teal'c said.

"Right. I mean, if I was in the same situation, the first thing I'd want to do would be to get off this planet and go home," Sam said.

"What do you mean, Captain?"

"General, the goa'uld has access to Colonel O'Neill's knowledge and memories. It knows that it'll never be allowed to build a kingdom. And it also knows that the Stargate is its only way off this planet. At least for the time being, I think it'll stay close to here, maybe even try to gain access to the gate," she explained.

"So what? Post a few more guards?" Daniel suggested.

"I believe the opposite would be more effective," Teal'c said.

"A trap," Janet said.

"Indeed."

Daniel shook his head. "I don't think Jack will fall for that. He'll know that's what we'll do."

"We can't second guess ourselves," Hammond said. "I will instruct the perimeter teams to allow O'Neill go gain access to this facility, however he will NOT be permitted to leave this planet, even if we have to use deadly force."

"General," Janet protested.

"Doctor, Colonel O'Neill's knowledge is far too valuable to allow it to fall into enemy hands," he said.

"If Captain Carter is incorrect and O'Neill's possession was not happenstance but a deliberate act, we must consider that he may have planted a device of destruction on this base," Teal'c said.

Hammond nodded. "If there's any tampering here, I want it found. Teal'c, I'd like you to help. You know better than anyone what to look for." Teal'c nodded. "I do think that we need to keep looking for Colonel O'Neill."

"General, Pete might be able to help us out," Sam volunteered.

"Captain?"

"We don't have any jurisdiction outside this mountain, even looking for one of our own. Pete might be able to…smooth the way with the local police."

"That may be to our benefit," he agreed. "Captain, I need to know how to contact Detective Shanahan. Teal'c, presuming he agrees, and once you have cleared this facility, you will be working with Shanahan to apprehend O'Neill. Doctor Jackson, I would like you to coordinate with Doctor Fraiser. I want every Nasyian examined to make sure that the goa'uld in Colonel O'Neill is the only one."

"General?" Sam asked, waiting for her assignment.

"Captain, you have other matters to attend to," he said, earning him a grateful look from Fraiser.

"Sir," she protested.

"That is an order. I've already lost one officer; I don't need to lose another." He got to his feet, signaling the end of the briefing. "Dismissed."

<><><><><>

The door to the VIP room opened and Sara looked up, motioning for Captain Carter to come in. "How is she?" she whispered. Cassie was asleep on the bed and Charlie was seated in a chair in the corner of the room, playing on his muted game boy.

"Doctor Fraiser says she's fine," Sara said, ushering Captain Carter back towards the door. The two women stepped into the hall so that they could talk without waking Cassie. "He just scared her."

"That's good," Carter said. "Umm, I don't mean that, I mean-"

"I know what you mean," Sara interrupted. "And thank you."

"If you want, I can help you get some stuff," Carter offered.

Sara shook her head. "What stuff?"

Carter frowned. "Well, don't they need some clothes or something?"

"What are you talking about?"

Carter looked surprised. "I thought you'd be staying here for the time being."

"Here?"

"At least until they find Colonel O'Neill and-"

Sara shook her head. "We're not staying here. I just brought Cassandra in so that Doctor Fraiser could make sure she was ok. As soon as she's awake, we're going home."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Carter asked.

"Captain?"

"Ma'am, Colonel O'Neill is still out there."

"I know."

"And he's got a goa'uld in him."

"I know that too," Sara said evenly, trying to hide her disgust at the idea of her husband possessed by one of those creatures. She knew that's what had killed Charlie Kawalsky, her newly acquired clearance giving Jack the ability to tell her that much. And she knew just how cruel a goa'uld could be, if how Daniel's wife had been treated was any example. But she refused to believe that even possession by that alien could make her husband dangerous. Jack would not hurt her, or the children. She knew it in her bones.

"Mrs. O'Neill, with all due respect, your husband is a very dangerous man right now."

Sara shook her head. "Jack would never hurt me or the children," she insisted.

"Cassie-"

"He scared her, that's all. If he wanted to hurt her, she would be. We're going to go home."

"Mrs. O'Neill, I still don't think that-"

"I know you mean well, Captain. And thank you for your concern, but I know my husband. He has to know that you're looking for him, he's not going to be stupid enough to come back home. And even if he does, he won't hurt us," Sara said, her voice resolute and calm. "Unless of course, these nice officers are going to restrain us and keep us here against our will."

Carter stared at her, almost as if the woman wanted to challenge her words. "I'll talk to the general," she finally said.

"Thank you," Sara said, reaching for the door knob. She stepped back into the room and closed the door, shutting the captain out.

"Mom?"

Sara smiled, putting her finger over her lips to hush Charlie. She made her way over to him and knelt at his side. "As soon as Cassie feels like it, we're going to go home," she told him.

"But dad-"

"Your dad will be home when he feels better," she said. "Is that ok with you?" He stared at her for a few seconds, and then nodded. "Now, why don't you show me how to play this game," she said, seeking not only to distract him, but herself as well. Despite the confident face she'd put forth for Captain Carter, she wasn't quite ready to deal with things yet. She would, eventually. Just not right now. Because, right now, she didn't think she could handle the fact that the man in her bed last night hadn't been her husband.

<><><><><>

Daniel followed Janet as she walked through the crowded halls of the academy hospital. The Nasyians were confined to one wing with guards from the SGC close by, just in case anyone got too curious. Fortunately, the Nasyians were too grateful to question their near captivity, something Daniel didn't know if he was grateful for or disturbed by.

"How long do you think it will take to run tests on everyone?" he asked.

Janet shook her head, glancing back at him. "Days," she said simply. "At least we know what we're looking for, but since we need to make sure nothing is…lurking, we have to do a full body scan," she explained. "And that takes time."

"Well, at least we'll have time to find them a new home," he said, looking for a bright spot.

"How's that going?" she asked, leading him into the secure wing.

He shrugged. "We're looking. Finding a planet is easy, finding a good planet is hard. We don't want to make them have to move more than once."

"I'm sure they'll appreciate that," she said ironically.

Daniel didn't respond, well aware that the doctor found the security measures to be intrusive. He knew that she understood the need for security, but she also thought the armed guards were just a bit too much to guard some traumatized and injured refugees. "I'm going to go talk to some of them," he said.

Janet nodded. "Ok. You need something, just have me paged or you can leave a message in my office."

"I will, thanks," he said. He turned and made his way down one of the corridors, glancing in the open doors. He saw a woman standing beside an open window and he paused, standing in the doorway. Seeming to sense his presence, she turned around. "Oh, excuse me."

"Your world is an amazing place," she said, not bothered by his intrusion.

"It can be, um, I'm Daniel," he introduced.

"You are one of the men responsible for saving us."

"Yeah," he confirmed.

"We owe you great thanks," she said sincerely.

"Can we, er, can we talk a minute?"

"Of course," she agreed.

"Did you ever notice anything odd going on?"

"Odd?" she asked.

"Strange people. Maybe friends of yours acting differently," he fished, trying to get info without coaching her too much.

"I do not remember." She slowly shook her head.

"What about…an injury?" he asked.

"Injury?"

"Maybe a cut or scar on the back of someone's neck." He turned his head, pointing to the base of his skull. He traced his fingers from the base of his skull to the top of his neck. "Back here?"

"No…Wait," she said slowly. "Yes. My husband."

"Your husband?"

"Yes."

"Do you often have visitors through the stargate?"

"Stargate?"

"The circle, the aah, chaappai," he said.

"Occasionally," she said.

"Did you have a visitor before your husband got his scar?"

She shook her head. "No. But there was a ship."

"A ship?"

"Yes. A ship crashed. My husband and some other men from the village went to help, but it was too late," she said.

"Too late?"

"The pilot was dead. They buried her and returned."

"Did they bring anything back? Scavenge anything from the wreck?"

She nodded. "Some, bits of metal, some of her supplies. It was not as if she would need them," she excused. "And we lack the ability to refine metal. Arlan fabricated seven plow blades from the metal."

"No, no, you're right," he said. "A corpse doesn't need possessions."

"Did he act strange after he came back? Get angry, talk funny…did his eyes glow?" She stared at him, a fearful expression crossing her face. "Why don't I let you rest?" he said, realizing the he'd pushed too far.

She nodded and Daniel slipped from the room, closing the door behind him. Well, now he knew where Jack's snake had come from, unfortunately that knowledge didn't help him much with finding his friend.

His mind distracted, Daniel started to walk down the hall, coming to an abrupt stop when Janet stepped out of a room. "Whoa," he said, reaching out his hands to steady her. "I'm sorry. Are you ok?"

"What? Yeah," she mumbled, staring at him for a second. "I just aah…he aah…didn't-" Her hands fluttered at shoulder level, making gestures towards the room she'd just left. He glanced over her shoulder and could see the shrouded bed, the unmistakable shape of a body silhouetted against the window.

"I'm sorry," Daniel said, interrupting, frowning a bit. Janet didn't usually get that upset over simply losing a patient, but she had been very busy lately, and he knew she'd gotten to know many of the refugees.

"It happens," she dismissed. "Did you finish?"

"Yeah," he said. "I think I know where the goa'uld in Jack came from."

"Really?" she asked, suddenly interested.

Daniel nodded. "Yeah. Talia's husband. I think when he was killed, the goa'uld jumped into Jack."

"That is very possible," she said. "However, I do not understand how knowing where the goa'uld came from assists you in finding Colonel O'Neill."

"Umm, well, it doesn't exactly," he said. "But, you know, it probably means that Jack's goa'uld was the only one there," he said.

"Right, it probably was," she agreed. "Come on, let's go get something to eat," she suggested.

"Umm…what about-" He motioned over her shoulder, towards the room.

She looked over her shoulder and shrugged. "There's nothing more I can do for him," she said.
She pulled him down the corridor and he fell into step, letting her lead him to the cafeteria.
Neither of them noticed the tall figure that slipped into the corpse's room, emerging just seconds later.

<><><><><>

Sara glanced out the front door, frowning at the sight of the dark blue sedan parked halfway up the block. "You boys need to get a hobby," she sighed. She didn't know how much more of this she could take. They'd been out there all day and all night every day for the past two weeks.

Maybe she'd made a mistake when she'd left the mountain, but she just hadn't been able to take it anymore. General Hammond hadn't been fond of it, openly preferring for her and the kids to stay at Cheyenne Mountain until Jack was found. But she'd talked her way out of it. Cassie hadn't liked it. The girl had openly preferred staying in the mountain. And they had for a night, then Sara had talked her into going home, using the guards as a security blanket for the girl. Sara knew there was no way in hell that Jack would hurt any of them, but that was a lesson Cassie had yet to learn.

"Mom?" Charlie stepped to her side. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, forcing a smile on her face.

"They're still out there?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, cursing her son's observant nature. "General Hammond is just being careful," she said.

"They think dad will come here."

"They do," she confirmed.

"They're stupid."

"Charlie."

"Mom, they are," he insisted. "Dad's not stupid enough to come back here. He has to know that this is the first place they'll look," he said, confident in his childish logic. "He won't come back here until he's better."

Sara smiled, comforted by her son's steadfast trust in his father. She reached out and ruffled his hair. "What do you say we take Cassie out to the park," she suggested.

"She won't want to go," he said, following her as she made her way to the stairs.

"I know," Sara replied, climbing the stairs. She walked to Cassie's room and knocked on the door, opening it after a second. Cassie was sitting on her bed, a book open in her lap. She'd been quiet the past couple of weeks, spending most of her time in her room. "Hey." Sara moved to sit beside Cassie on the bed. "We were going to go outside and play, want to come?" she asked, keeping her voice light. Cassie shook her head. "It'll be fun," Sara insisted.

"I don't want to," Cassie said.

"Come on," Charlie pleaded.

"I don't want to," Cassie repeated, raising her voice.

"Cass-" The doorbell rang, interrupting Sara.

"I'll get it," Charlie volunteered, quickly making his way from the room.

Sara let him go, trusting that the guards outside wouldn't let anyone threatening ring the doorbell. "Cassie, you can't stay in here forever," she said softly, reaching out for the girl. "Jack won't hurt you, I promise," she said.

"He said he would," she whispered.

"He was wrong," Sara insisted.

"Mom, look who's here," Charlie said, leading Frank Cromwell into the room.

"Frank." Sara gave Cassie a reassuring squeeze and slid off the bed, awkwardly straightening her hair. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Neither did I," he shrugged. "I was just driving by and thought I'd drop in," he said casually.

"We were going to go to the park," Charlie said. "But Cassie doesn't want to go."

"Now why is that?" he asked, moving closer to Cassie's bed. Sara stepped back, sensing that maybe Frank could give her daughter the reassurance that she couldn't.

Cassie shrunk down in the bed slightly, and then looked up at him defiantly. "I don't want to," she said.

He shrugged. "Ok. Did I ever tell you about how me and your dad met?" he asked, sitting on the bed. She shook her head. "It was almost twenty years ago. We were both green lieutenants. He was having a tough time with his hand to hand combat skills. Kept getting his butt kicked. Guess who taught him enough so that he passed?" he asked. She hesitated for a few seconds, and then pointed at him. "Yep. And I can still kick his butt. So, what do you say we go to the zoo, maybe get hot dogs and ice cream," he suggested, giving Sara an apologetic glance.

"What if dad comes?" she asked.

"He won't come back until he feels better," Charlie said.

Cassie looked at the two of them then turned her attention to Sara. "It'll be ok," Sara reassured her.

"Ok," Cassie agreed. Frank got off the bed and Cassie followed him, bending over to pick up her shoes. "I want to see Sam," she said as she slid her feet into the tennis shoes.

"Captain Carter," Sara explained, answering Frank's raised eyebrows. "She's in the Academy Hospital."

"Right, I heard about that," he said. "We can see her, if you think she's up to visitors."

"I'm sure she is," Sara said, cursing herself for her narrow mindedness. She should have thought of this before. Cassie adored the captain and if there was anyone she'd overcome her fear for and leave the house, it was Captain Carter.

"It sounds like a plan then," Frank said. "We'll go to the park, have some fun, get something to eat and then visit Carter on the way home."

Cassie agreed and in a matter of minutes the four of them were making their way outside, coats in hand. It may be spring in Colorado, but there was still a chill in the air. "Thank you," Sara said, getting into the front seat of Frank's car. "It'll be great to get out."

"I told you I'd always be here," he said softly, shoving his key into the ignition. "Next stop, the park," he said, raising his voice and looking over his shoulder. "Seatbelts fastened?"

Getting an affirmative, he pulled out from the curb and Sara leaned her head against the back of the seat, closing her eyes. It was all so normal. And if she tried hard enough, she could pretend that the person sitting next to her was her husband instead of his best friend.

<><><><><>

Sam flipped through the channels, fighting her boredom as talk show after talk show flickered across the screen. You would think for as much technology as the Air Force possessed, they could spring for the premium channels in their hospital.

She shifted position, trying to alleviate the numb feeling in her butt. The infection in her leg had taken a turn for the worse a few days ago. It wasn't responding to conventional antibiotics, so Doctor Frasier felt it was better for her to be admitted to the hospital and for them to try some IV antibiotics. Along with that, they had performed surgery on her leg, trying to stem the infection at the source.

As a result, it was definitely difficult for her to get around, having to use crutches or a wheel chair. That was the part she hated most of all, being helpless and dependant upon others. She refused to think about what would happen if the treatment failed.

Giving up on the TV, she reached for her mug of water, taking a deep drink. She was incredibly thirsty, something she knew was a side effect of the antibiotics and also a symptom of the fever she was running. The infection in her leg had started to affect the rest of her body. Not only did her leg ache a large portion of the time, but she generally felt ill now, almost like she had a perpetual cold, without the stuffy nose part.

The door to her room opened and she groaned, definitely not in the mood for a visitor. Daniel and even Teal'c had been good, making the effort to drop in at least once a day. At first, she'd looked forward to their visits, eager for the gossip and chance to alleviate the boredom. But, as the days passed, she started to not want them to come. It was too hard anymore, too hard to put forth a brave face. Too hard to smile at gossip she didn't care about. Too hard to ignore the possibility that was becoming more and more real with each passing day-that they wouldn't cure the infection and that the only way to save her life would be to amputate her leg.

"I hope we're not intruding," Sara O'Neill said, peeking around the door. Cassie hurried past her, jumping up on the edge of Sam's bed while Charlie limped in slower, trailed by Major Cromwell. "Cassie wanted to come see you."

"Aah, no, you're fine, thank you," Sam said, surprised.

"I got these for you," Cassie said, handing Sam a battered nosegay of wild flowers.

"I helped her pick them," Charlie said.

"They're beautiful," Sam said, looking around for somewhere to put the flowers. Cromwell stepped forward, bending over to snag one of Daniel's discarded coffee cups from the trash. He took the flowers from her and made his way over to the sink where he rinsed it out and filled it with water, plopping the flowers into the makeshift vase.

"Here you go, Captain," he said, returning the flowers to Sam.

"Thank you, sir."

"We went to the park," Cassie said. "They had swings."

"Did they?" Sam asked.

"She likes the swings," Charlie said. "But she won't play on the merry go round," he complains.

"She gets dizzy," Sara explained. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

"I'm-ok," Sam said, not wanting to go into details.

Sara nodded, glancing back at Cromwell as if to gain confirmation of Sam's words. "Can you come play with us next time?" Cassie asked, seemingly not aware of the tension in the room.

"Cassie, I don't-"

"Sure she can," Sara interrupted. "We'll even have a picnic. The weather's getting nicer now."

"Mrs. O'Neill-"

Sara's cell phone rang and she reached for it. "Mom, you're supposed to turn it off," Charlie said. "The sign said so."

"Hello?" she answered, ignoring her son. "Yes. Are you sure?" Sam looked at her, picking up on the tone of her voice. "Ok. We'll be right there." She hung up her phone, opening her mouth, then censoring herself as she realized the children were in the room. "Frank, I need to run an errand," she said. "Can you take the kids home?"

"Sara? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just…I need to do something," she said, looking at him desperately. "It's important, Frank."

"Ok," he relented. "Not a problem. Where can I drop you off?" he asked.

"Damnit," Sara muttered.

"Mrs. O'Neill?" Sam asked, having a gut feeling what the phone message had been. It had to have been about the colonel. That was the only thing she could think of that would be that important but still be something that Cromwell couldn't know.

"We'll just have to run by the house and get my car," Sara said.

"Maybe not," Sam said, reaching for the phone. Her four guests stared during Sam's short conversation. "Doctor Frasier's still here," Sam reported, hanging up the phone. "She can give you a ride if you get down to her office right away."

Sara sighed. "Frank?"

"Go," he said. "I'll get the kids home and wait for you."

"Thank you," she said, grabbing Frank's arm. "And thank you," she said to Sam. She hurried from the room, leaving Sam alone with Cromwell and the kids.

"You know what the phone call was about, don't you?" he asked.

"I can't say, sir," Sam said.

Cromwell sighed. "Why does that not surprise me," he muttered. "Ok, kids. It's time to go," he declared.

"But I don't want to," Cassie protested.

"Cassie," Sam said. "You need to do what Major Cromwell tells you to do."

"But Sam-"

"Cassandra." Sam looked her in the eyes. "Please." She nodded slowly. "If your mom says it's ok, maybe you can come back another day."

Charlie moved over and grabbed his sister's hand, gently pulling her down from the bed. He led her from the room and Sam watched the trio leave. Hopefully her instinct was right and they'd found the colonel. She just hoped that the goa'uld in him was gone and prayed that he didn't end up like Kawalsky.

<><><><><>

"Is he ok?" Sara asked striding ahead of Doctor Frasier as the two of them entered the mountain. Daniel Jackson was waiting for them, holding the elevator doors open.

"Physically, yeah," he said as the doors closed. He pushed the button for level twenty-three while the doctor chose twenty-one.

"I need to report in," she explained.

"Physically?" Sara pressed.

"He's not really talking but it appears that he's been living off the land for the past couple of weeks. He was dirty and…" he broke off, as the doors opened, not wanting to paint the picture for her.

"I'll meet you downstairs," Frasier promised. The doors closed.

"Fortunately, the symbiote within him seemed to protect him from any infections or illnesses so, other than a little skinnier, he's in pretty good shape," Daniel continued.

"Especially for a man with an alien in control of his body," she said tightly.

The elevator door opened and Daniel stepped out, indicating for Sara to follow him. He led her into the observation room, motioning down through the large windows. "We've shaded the glass, he can't see you," he said. She stepped forward, laying her fingers on the smooth surface.

Jack was down below, strapped to a gurney. As per General Hammond's orders, the SF's outside had let Jack breach security. He'd made it in, and nearly made it to the gate room. Daniel had a feeling that, as soon as this mess was over, General Hammond was going to be reviewing base security.

It had taken near deadly force to stop him, or more accurately, Teal'c and a zat along with Sergeant Williamson and his side arm. "What happened to him?" she asked.

"Teal'c tried to zat him, it didn't work, so one of the SF's…"

"Zat?"

"It's a non-lethal weapon that we acquired. Well, it's not totally non-lethal, one shot stuns, two shots kills and three-"

"I get the picture," she interrupted. "What else?"

They'd removed Jack's clothes and he was wearing only a pair of infirmary pajama bottoms, which did nothing to conceal the large white bandage on his chest. "Apparently goa'ulds are resistant to zats. One of the SF's had to shoot him to keep him from getting through the gate. On the bright side, the goa'uld seems to be healing the injury. It'll probably heal without a scar," he said, injecting a note of enthusiasm into his voice.

"Oh I feel so much better," Sara quipped. "What are you going to do now?"

He shook his head. "What-"

"How are you going to get that thing out of him and get me my husband back?" she demanded.

"We aah, we don't know yet." As they watched, another officer walked into the room, dismissing the nurses. "That's Colonel Makepeace," Daniel introduced. "You know, maybe we should-"

"He's going to interrogate him?" Sara asked.

"Umm, yeah."

"I'm staying," she said.

"Hey, Jack. You really screwed up here you know. I mean, you really blew it," Makepeace said.

"You are weak," Jack said, slowly turning his head as the colonel walked around him.

"Who's tied up bars right now?"

"Your tactics will not work on me," Jack said, his voice astonishingly confident. "My host knows all your tactics. I believe he even taught you some of them."

"Not buying it, huh?" Makepeace asked.

"You must let me go."

"After all the trouble we went into to catch your sorry ass?" Makepeace said. "I don't think so." He pulled up a stool and sat at Jack's side. "How about this, you leave Jack and we'll toss your slimy little butt through the gate."

Jack merely gave Colonel Makepeace a cold look and turned his head, staring steadily at the far wall. Sara stood there for a few minutes then turned.

"Sara?" Daniel asked, afraid that he'd made a bad decision in bringing her into the observation room.

She grabbed a chair and rolled it over to the window, sitting down with a sigh. "You better get a chair Daniel. This is going to take a while."

<><><><><>

Colonel Robert Makepeace sat on the stool, his arms crossed over his chest. He stared at Jack, fighting to remind himself that the person lying restrained on the bed wasn't his friend and half-hearted rival, but the personification of evil. They'd sat like this for almost an hour, each silently ignoring the other. And about the only thing Bob was regretting was his second cup of coffee this morning.

"Let me go," Jack finally said. "Let me go through the Stargate. I will find another host and send your friend back to you," he bargained.

"You can do that? Leave a host without killing them?" Bob asked, oddly intrigued. All their intel said 'once a host, always a host'. Then again, none of their intel came from those that would be 'in the know'.

"Yes. It is possible, but not easy. I could die, but I promise I will try."

"The Nasyian man died when you left him," Bob said, playing a hunch. It was a gamble. They only suspected that was where Jack's snake came from..

"The Nasyian man died first," Jack said, confirming their theory. "That is why I left him. He was beyond my natural abilities to heal."

"What were you doing in him in the first place?" Bob asked. This goa'uld's behavior didn't make any sense. There was nothing on Nasyia worth conquering. And, so far, this snake hadn't made a single demand.

"O'Neill's mind would be intact. He would return to you as you knew him before," Jack said, ignoring Bob's question.

"You know I can't trust you."

"I could have killed you and many others at any time. The ease at which I gained access to this base was laughable. My host was quite surprised."

Bob chuckled. "You don't think you got in because we let you in? Please. Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack. Tactics 101. You don't have to go after your quarry when he's stupid enough to come to you." Bob leaned forward, resting his hands on the edge of the gurney. "Two minds really aren't better than one, Jack. You're stupid, and so's your snake."

"I have done nothing to harm you. Why do you keep me here?"

"Because, while you're a pain in the ass, Jack, you know too much for us to ever let you go. So, which cell do you want, the one on level 16 or level 22?"

<><><><><>

'I told you this wasn't going to work,' Jack said. He felt Jolinar's back rise. One thing this creature wasn't tolerant of was being told that it was wrong. If the damn creature had just listened, they wouldn't be here right now. "Let me talk to him," Jack requested.

'You-'

'You have been going on and on about being a team. Well, now it's time to prove it,' Jack said, losing his patience. For the past two weeks, they'd been doing things Jolinar's way, including the snake's insane idea of getting through the gate and going back to its people. 'Let me talk to him,' Jack demanded.

He felt the creature fade, still not accustomed to the sensation. Jolinar had only given him control a bare handful of times, largely in response to Jack's accusations of the creature lying to him. Jack shook his head slightly and took a deep breath, trying to regain his equilibrium. "I need to talk to Teal'c," he said.

"You're not in the position to make any requests," Makepeace said. "You want to talk to Teal'c; you need to let me talk to Jack."

"You are," Jack said.

"Aahah."

"Look, you idiotic Jar head. Pull your head out of your ass and get Teal'c in here," Jack demanded, losing what little patience he had left. He did not have time for this.

Makepeace was taken aback and craned his neck, looking up at the observation room. Whoever was up there must have given him the high sign as he rolled his stool back and stood up. "Don't go anywhere," he said.

"Funny," Jack muttered, his hands tugging at the restraints.

'I do not see how speaking to the Jaffa will assist our position,' Jolinar said.

'He's the only person in this place that's likely to believe your cockamamie story,' Jack said. 'I tried to tell you, they're not just going to let us go through the gate. We need to earn their trust and Teal'c is one step in that direction.'

'I hope that you are correct.'

'Yeah, like what are you going to do if I'm wrong?' Jack asked. 'Not talk to me? Oh, here's an idea, maybe you can crawl out of my head and leave me alone,' he ranted.

Inside his head, Jack felt the creature sigh, or as close as it could come to a sigh and he closed his eyes. With any luck, Teal'c was coming. Now all he needed to do was convince the Jaffa that he was who and what he said he was and that the SGC needed not only to trust Jack, but to believe him as well.

<><><><><>

The door to the observation room opened and Sara turned, recognizing the portly form of General Hammond. "General." She stood up, turning to face him.

"Mrs. O'Neill, Doctor Jackson. How's he doing?" he asked, walking towards them.

"You don't think you got in because we let you in? Please. Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack. Tactics 101. You don't have to go after your quarry when he's stupid enough to come to you." Colonel Makepeace's voice echoed through the speakers, the man's mocking tone clear. "Two minds really aren't better than one, Jack. You're stupid, and so's your snake."

"Not very well," Sara said drolly.

"He sounds like a goa'uld," Daniel said.

"How are you going to get that thing out of him?" Sara asked, turning to look at her husband. She winced at the tone of his voice. He sounded so cold, so hard. His voice reverberated slightly and sounded almost mechanical, bearing just a passing resemblance to her husband's rich, soft tones.

"We don't quite know yet," Hammond admitted. "In truth, Mrs. O'Neill, our experience with the goa'uld is rather limited."

"Limited? What do you mean by limited?"

"There's only been one other member of this command taken as a host," the general said.

"And?" Sara asked, her frustration growing.

"He didn't survive," Daniel said.

"Are you telling me that my husband is as good as dead?" she demanded.

"Sara. A goa'uld possesses a host's mind and body. It's very possible that Jack's…that he aah.."

"Mrs. O'Neill," Hammond interrupted. "It is very possible that the body of your husband down there is all there is. His body may be alive but his mind, all that makes Jack O'Neill, Jack O'Neill is gone," Hammond said.

"Look, you idiotic Jar head. Pull your head out of your ass and get Teal'c in here." Jack's voice echoed loudly through the speakers, possessing none of the resonance of his earlier words. Sara stared for a second, and then started to laugh, earning her a few looks from Daniel and General Hammond.

"Mrs. O'Neill?" Hammond said, concerned. "Are you all right?"

"That's my husband," she said.

"Sara-"

"Daniel, you know him. That's Jack," she insisted.

Daniel looked at her and shrugged. "She's right, General. That sounded like Jack."

Sara looked through the window, seeing Colonel Makepeace looking up at them, seeking counsel. "Let him talk to Teal'c," she requested.

"Mrs.-"

"General, please. That was my husband talking and he wants to talk to Teal'c. Please let him."
The general stared at her for a few seconds, and then sighed, nodding to the man below. Makepeace took his guidance, leaving the room, presumably to get Teal'c.

"Now what?" Daniel asked.

"Now we see what Colonel O'Neill tells Teal'c," Hammond said.

Sara ignored him, retaking her chair and looking through the window. They had him, physically at least. Now all they needed to do was to get that thing out of his head and she would have her husband back.

<><><><><>

Teal'c walked into the room, schooling his face into a blank mask. O'Neill lay restrained to a narrow bed, his arms and feet bound by sturdy leather straps. He knew that O'Neill had been injured and the clean white bandage attached to the man's chest was mute testament to that fact. His former leader was a bit thinner and a few bruises colored his skin, bruises Teal'c wasn't sure came from his capture or perhaps from his time running.

"You have requested my presence?" Teal'c asked, ignoring how his symbiote writhed in the presence of the goa'uld.

"Teal'c, you need to let me go," O'Neill said.

"They will not let you go," Teal'c said calmly.

"Teal'c, the Tau'ri have become very powerful in the time since the Goa'uld were here. You know the System Lords won't allow this to go unchecked. I can give you information that can help defend against attack."

"The Tau'ri are more powerful than you know," Teal'c said, speaking to the goa'uld. "Already a Goa'uld attack on Earth has been thwarted. As you would know from your host's memories."

"Yeah, I know, Teal'c, I was there," O'Neill said, sounding far more like Teal'c's friend than a goa'uld. "And according to the snake in my head, there's probably more powerful assault is already being planned."

"That is likely what you wish the Tau'ri to believe," Teal'c said, not wishing to be fooled as he was before with Kawalsky.

"I got a news flash for ya, Teal'c. Not all Goa'uld are the same. There are a few that oppose the System Lords. They're called the Tok'ra."

"Every Goa'uld seeks power for his own reason and would betray his own brother to achieve it," Teal'c said.

"Some seek power for a greater purpose. Not every Goa'uld is an enemy to Earth. The Tok'ra are real, no matter what Apophis has told you," O'Neill said calmly. Too calm. There was no ranting, no yelling, just a simple statement of fact.

'I have yet to meet one," Teal'c said, refusing to believe O'Neill's words. It couldn't be true. The Tok'ra were just legends, stories told to scare young Jaffa. They were mythical excuses Jaffa used to explain their weaknesses and failings.

"You have now," O'Neill said. "The snake's name is Jolinar of Malkshur."

<><><><><>

Hammond looked over the small group gathered in the observation room. "What exactly just happened down there?" he demanded.

"There is an old legend among the Jaffa for them to speak of concerning a group of Goa'uld who opposed the ways of the System Lords. This group is called the Tok'ra. This Goa'uld, Jolinar of Malkshur, claims to be part of that group," Teal'c said.

"Can you be sure he is who he says he is?" Daniel asked.

"I cannot," Teal'c said. "If the Tok'ra were easily identified, they system lords would have crushed them from existence centuries ago."

"Resistance," Daniel blurted out.

"What?" Sara asked.

"Tok'ra-against Ra. Resistance," he explained.

"The Tok'ra is a small alliance of Goa'uld who oppose the System Lords. It was my teacher Bra'tac who first spoke to me of them."

"What does this mean?" Sara demanded. "I thought you said it was a goa'uld that was in Jack."

"It is, probably," Daniel said, ignoring her sharp look. "Physically anyway. It's possible that these Tok'ra are just, different politically."

"This could be to our advantage," Teal'c said.

"Teal'c?"

"General Hammond, if the goa'uld within Colonel O'Neill is indeed a Tok'ra, he may possess much tactical knowledge. We may benefit if we can persuade him to share that knowledge with us," he explained.

"It's also possible that this goa'uld within O'Neill could be lying, spinning a tale to gain our trust," Hammond said.

"It's quite a spin," Daniel said.

"Jack knows better," Sara said. "He knows you won't trust him."

"He's right," Hammond said.

"I believe Jolinar speaks the truth," Teal'c said.

"Me too," Daniel said.

"Well, I don't," Hammond said. "Not yet." He glanced at Sara and sighed. "I'm sorry, Mrs. O'Neill. But Colonel O'Neil is staying where he is for the time being." He turned, ready to leave the room.

"General," Sara spoke up. Hammond turned back. "Can you at least…Jack doesn't like being tied down. Can you at least give him some clothes and put him in a cell?" she asked.

Hammond stared at her for a few minutes, and then nodded. "I'll see what I can do," he promised.

<><><><><>

Jack paced the confines of the cell, restlessly looking for a way out. 'I see one thing is universally constant,' Jolinar said.

'What's that?' Jack asked, more to kill time than any real desire to know anything. Over the past couple of weeks, he and Jolinar had reached an understanding of a sort. The snake stayed out of his personal memories and Jack tried to do the same. He couldn't say that he was too fond of the creature. The damn thing had entered his body very much without his consent; however, after they'd reached their agreement, Jolinar had stuck to his word.

'Prison cells are astonishingly similar no matter the planet. Some are just more, advanced that others. Personally, I have found the more technologically advanced a cell is, the easier it is to escape from.'

'So, what, you got a way out of here?' Jack asked.

'Conversely, the more primitive the race is, the sturdier their cells seem to be,' Jolinar said drolly.

'No one invited you here,' Jack shot back, reignighting a long standing argument. 'In fact, I distinctly recall asking-telling you to leave a dozen times.'

'Eighteen actually,' Jolinar corrected. 'And I promised you that I will. As soon as I can return to my people and relay my intelligence to them.'

'They're not going to let you-us go,' Jack said, sighing as he ran his fingers through his hair. Jolinar had agreed to leave him in physical control, which pretty much confirmed to Jack precisely how hard the snake had worked to fix the gunshot wound. The snake was sick, it wouldn't go into details, but Jack knew that it was hiding something from him. Not information, but something else. It was like Carter when she took Cassie down into the bunker, not wanting to let him know how she really felt.

'They will have to.'

'You don't understand,' Jack said. 'We're not just dealing with the SGC here. Pretty soon the NID will get involved.'

'NID?' Jack closed his eyes, feeding the symbiote his memories of Maybourne and his cronies.
He felt the snake's mood change from one of confidence to alarm. 'Why?'

'Because we're afraid of what we don't understand,' Jack said. 'This is why it was a bad idea to come back here.'

'Why did you not tell me this earlier?'

'Why won't you tell me why you were so desperate on Nasyia?' Jack asked.

'It was a random attack.'

'Please. The goa'uld hadn't attacked Nasyia for years. Why now?'

'It does not matter,' Jolinar dismissed, determined to keep his secrets.

The door opened and Jack looked up, watching as Doctor Frasier walked into the room, closing the door behind her. "In the mood for a house call, Doc?" A chill raced down his spine and Jack stared as the small woman strode towards him, her face cold and set.

'No.' Jolinar's fear raced through Jack's brain and his heart started to race.

'What's going on?'

'I am sorry,' Jolinar apologized. 'I should have considered the possibility of his survival.'

Jolinar surged to control, backing Jack away from the bars, his retreat hopelessly short. 'What the hell are you going on about?' Jack demanded.

Frasier stretched out her hand and wrapped her fingers around the cell door, yanking it open. Her eyes glowed ominously and she raised her hand, an odd three stone ring glittering dully in her palm. "Kree shak, Jolinar. By decree of the Goa'uld System Lords you will die with dishonor by the power of the Hara'kash," she said, her voice resonating ominously.

"Doc?" Jack tried to say, his mouth not responding to his direction. "Hear this. The days of the Goa'uld System Lords are numbered. Tell them that I died with hope. My death only feeds the fire that burns strong in the Tok'ra," he heard himself say.

'Do not fight me,' Jolinar said, shoving Jack into the back of his brain. Unable to move, Jack could only watch as a beam of light emanated from the ring, piercing his skull. Pain washed over him like a burning tidal force, slamming him against a wall. He felt Jolinar scream and the creature writhed in pain, slithering under his skin.

Feeling disembodied, Jack watched Frasier move towards him, her smaller figure easily shoving his body against the wall, the ring pinning him there.

He struggled to breathe, feeling like the rope in a deadly game of tug a war. Jolinar pushed, Frasier pushed back and Jack was caught in the middle, his body bearing the brunt of the battle. With a feral growl, Frasier narrowed her eyes and the force from the ring increased ten fold. Jolinar stumbled back, faltering under the relentless onslaught. Feeling control return, Jack lunged forward, raising one arm to slam Frasier away from him. The woman screamed, falling backwards.

With his survival instincts kicking in, jack lunged on top of her, ripping the ring from her fingers. He crammed it onto his own hand, not even feeling as it tore the flesh from his fingers. Ignoring the agony crawling through his brain, he concentrated, activating the device. He tried to be careful, tried to spare the doctor, but he knew that he was hurting her too. He had no choice, he had to stop her, had to free her.

The woman screamed, her hands clawing at Jack's arms, struggling to free herself. Jack felt his strength waning, draining slowly away. He needed to stop, to save himself. But he pressed on, determined to kill the Ashrak, determined to free the doctor, determined that she'd never face the prospect of perpetual imprisonment.

Blackness swirled around him, pulling, taunting, and dragging him down. He fought the inexorable force for a few more precious seconds before it claimed him, tugging him beneath the surface, keeping him down, pulling him under, and imprisoning him in impenetrable blackness.

<><><><><>

Doctor Warner checked the chart, pulling a pen from his pocket to make notes. "Doctor?" He looked over, his back stiffening at the sight of General Hammond.

"Sir?"

"At ease," the man said. "How are they?" he asked.

"They're both stable, sir," Warner reported. "Doctor Frasier's symbiote is dead; it appears that the ring device is capable of killing the symbiote while doing minimal damage to the host. Her MRI shows some irritation of the brain matter; however it's nothing more serious than your average concussion."

"And Colonel O'Neill?"

"Much the same, sir. However, his damage is a bit more severe. Apparently, when Doctor Frasier attacked him - I mean the goa'uld in Doctor Frasier," he corrected. "It was attempting to damage both host and symbiote."

"And both symbiotes are dead?"

"Yes, sir," Warner answered. "We thought about attempting to remove them, however given how the symbiote wraps itself around a host's brain stem, we think it will be best to let their bodies absorb them."

"Will that be harmful to them?" Hammond asked.

"We don't think so, sir," Warner answered. "In truth, General, we're sort of making this up as we go along. Given the trauma both of them have suffered, we're thinking it may be best if our treatments are as minimally invasive as possible," he said. "Should there be any sign of infection, I know a very good neurosurgeon we can call in."

Hammond nodded. "Good. Keep me informed."

The general left the room and Warner turned back to his patients, moving so that he could see around the curtain dividing his two patients. Both of his patients were unconscious, a state they had been in since being brought into the infirmary. In one way, he wished they'd wake up so that he could ascertain that both of them had no more injuries than he'd determined. But another part of him honestly wished they'd remain asleep for a while. Because he knew that their physical injuries was probably the least of their concerns.

<><><><><>

Jack sighed and dropped his gameboy onto his lap. Bored. He was bored, bored, bored, bored. Voices drifted past the curtain and he looked up, alternately hoping for and dreading company.
Visitors would do a lot to alleviate the boredom. Then again, visitors weren't much fun when they just stood there, shifting their weight from foot to foot, about as uncomfortable as a priest at an orgy.

"Hungry?" Daniel asked, poking his head around the curtain.

"Starved," Jack said, pushing himself up in the bed. He didn't see why he was still in the infirmary. Yes, he'd been shot. And yes, Fraiser had tried her best to fry his brain, and yes, he'd been possessed by a goa'uld. But that was last week. The gunshot wound was nothing more than a red bump on his chest. The headaches were down to manageable proportions and the goa'uld…he didn't want to think about that. It was gone. That's what mattered.

"I just hit Subway. I didn't know if you'd be awake and thought a cold sandwich would keep and-"

"It's fine," Jack interrupted, reaching for the bag. "Just tell me you got chips too."

"I even got cookies," Daniel said, pulling up a stool.

Jack unwrapped one of the sub sandwiches, hungrily biting into the fresh bread filled with meat and cheese. "This hits the spot," he said, mumbling around a mouthful of sandwich.

"I figured you'd be sick of commissary surprise," Daniel said, eating his sandwich just a bit slower. "How are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Jack said quickly. Daniel raised his eye brows and Jack realized that he'd spoken too quickly. "Daniel, don't."

Daniel shrugged. "Ok. But you know, Hammond's not gonna let you back to work until you talk to someone," he warned.

"How's Frasier doing?" Jack asked, deliberately changing the subject.

Daniel sighed and set down his sandwich. "She's aah, ok," he said.

"Ok?"

"It's gonna take time," Daniel said. "It aah…It really messed her up, Jack," he said. "She won't eat, she won't sleep." He sighed and leaned back, abandoning his sub. "I don't know what to do for her."

Jack set down his sandwich, his appetite fading. He didn't have any easy answers for his friend. Jack couldn't say that his time with Jolinar had been fun, because it was anything but. However, he knew that while, eventually, he and Jolinar had reached a sort of compromise, Fraiser hadn't had that luxury. The Ashrak had possessed her, taking over her body and using her for over a week while none of them had any idea.

"She'll pull through," he said. "She's like Carter. Both of them are a hell of a lot stronger than you think they are." Daniel's expression changed and the hair on the back of Jack's neck stood up. "Daniel, what's wrong? Where is Carter anyway?"

"Jack, Sam's in the hospital."

"What? What happened?"

"Right before, it happened, they ran some tests, trying to figure out what was wrong with her leg. Nothing seems to be working on the infection."

"Nothing?"

"Janet was trying something new but now that she…" Daniel trailed off, running his fingers through his hair. "They're going to amputate her leg tomorrow," he said, his voice catching.

"Daniel? What the hell do you mean amputate?" Jack asked. "She just twisted her ankle."

"The surgeon is afraid the longer he waits the more bone Sam will lose. He's hoping if he…that he might be able to save the knee. If they wait too much longer, she might lose it all the way up to her hip."

Jack sank back against the pillows, his sandwich sitting like a stone in his stomach. She was going to lose her leg? That wasn't fair, it just…she'd lose more than her leg, and she'd lose her career as well. "Look, there's gotta be something we can do," he said. "Surely some of those things we've brought back-"

"They've tried them Jack," Daniel interrupted. "There's nothing else they can do."

Nothing else they can do. Five little words that were a death knell for his friend. Nothing else THEY can do. "Daniel, what'd they do with the stuff I had?"

"Jack?"

"When they caught me, what'd they do with the stuff I had?" Jack repeated, sitting up in the bed.

"I don't know-"

"Find out," he ordered, pushing back the blanket covering his legs.

"Jack, you're not supposed to be-"

"Damnit, Daniel. We don't have time for this. Get to Hammond, get the stuff I had with me and then meet me in the locker room." Jack stood up, reaching for the edge of the bed to steady himself as the world swayed slightly. "Go!" Jack ordered.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Daniel muttered, getting to his feet and hurrying from the room, hopefully doing Jack's bidding.

Jack watched him go and took a deep breath. "So do I," he said softly, reaching for his robe. "So do I."

<><><><><>

Sam lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling, oddly fascinated by the wavy reflections above her. The lights were off in the room, the only illumination coming in from the hall and the reflections from the rain slicked parking lot outside her room.

She should be asleep; at least that's what she knew the doctor had been hoping for when he'd given her the sedative an hour ago. 'A little something to help you relax, Captain,' he'd said, calmly injecting the syringe of what the colonel would call happy juice into her IV.

But she didn't want to relax. She couldn't. Not when she was just a few hours away from them wheeling her down the hall and into the operating room where they'd grab a scalpel and saw and start hacking her up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she let them fall, running down her temples to wet her hair. It was going to happen. They were out of excuses, out of ideas, out of time.

According to the doctor, she was showing the first symptoms of septicemia, a sure sign that her body was losing the fight and that the infection was winning.

Her leg or her life, he'd said, his blunt manner as heartbreaking as it was reassuring. At least he was honest.

Feeling distinctly lightheaded from the drugs and the dinner she hadn't eaten, she looked down at her feet, keenly aware that this would be one of the last times she would ever do so.

It was all a waste. The past two years. Her marriage to Jonas. Pete's support. General Hammond's favors…all of it were a waste.

The gunshot echoed off the plain white walls and she stared, watching as he fell, slumping to the worn yellow carpet. His eyes were open, staring sightlessly up at the stained ceiling. His shirt slowly turned red, blood soaking it and painting the thin cotton fabric a garish scarlet.

He was dead. The realization sank into her, striking her with all the force of the bullet she'd just sent into Jonas' chest. Dead. He was dead. And she'd killed him. Oh god, she…she'd killed him. She'd just killed her husband. They'd come get her. Jonas had friends. Lots of friends. They'd be mad and they'd come get her and lock her up and…Her heart started to pound and her breath rasped in her throat. She couldn't…no, they'd never understand. They'd lock her up and cram her in a tiny little hole and forget she even existed.

A mess. She'd made a mess of everything. It was wrong. All wrong. Everything was wrong. She was wrong. She…she looked down at the gun in her hand, the barrel still warm. No loose ends. They couldn't lock her away if she wasn't…it would be so easy. Nice and neat. No failure. No one could be mad at her; no one could be disappointed in her. It'd be over. All over. No more yelling, no more screaming No more manipulating. No more failure.

"Hey, are you done with that?" She slowly turned, frowning at the sight of a man standing in the doorway, one hand outstretched, the other clutching a pistol. "Mine's aah, not working so good right now. Mind if I borrow yours?"

"What-"

"My name's Pete, what's yours?" he asked, slowly stepping forward. "Did he do that to you?"

Self-consciously, her left hand drifted up to her face, trailing over the swollen bruise on her cheekbone. Jonas had been mad at her, upset at what she'd told him. She knew that he'd be angry, knew that he hadn't wanted to hear what she'd had to say.

He stood in front of her and slowly reached down, taking the gun from her hand. He shoved it into his pocket and holstered his own gun. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gently pushed her down to sit on the sofa. "Is there anyone you want me to call?" he asked, kneeling in front of her

Staring at Jonas' body, she simply shook her head.

A shadowy figure stepped into her room and Sam looked up, blinking to clear her vision. He moved like a specter, with silent, lithe grace. She should be alarmed. She should be scared. She should be calling for help.

Instead, she simply stared, watching as he moved towards her bed. He pulled back the covers, baring her bandaged leg. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some round device. He held it over her leg and she gasped as it snapped to life, warm yellow light beaming out to bathe her leg. He frowned, closing his eyes as his face contorted with concentration. A shaft of pain shot through her leg and she winced, her hands digging into the covers.

His other hand shot out, grasping her leg below the knee to keep her from pulling it away as the light intensified. Her leg felt warm, almost too warm, and then the pain stopped, replaced by an almost pleasurable sense of relief.

It seemed like forever that he stood there, holding the strange light over her leg until it finally snapped off. He slumped, both hands reaching for her bed, propping himself up. Her eyesight stunted by the sudden re-descent into near darkness, she could barely see his outline as he pushed away from her bed, walking slowly out of the room.

Sam tried to push herself up and reach for the lamp, but her arms refused to support her. She slumped back onto the pillows, exhaustion wrapping around her like a cloying force. She fought to keep her eyes open but failed as the drugs finally succeeded and she fell asleep.

<><><><><>

Daniel nervously looked over his shoulder, not quite sure why the infirmary was so deserted, but grateful that there were no witnesses. "Go put that thing away," Jack ordered, slumping down on
the bed.

"Jack?" His friend looked drained, his face pale and drawn. It reminded Daniel of how he'd looked those first few weeks after they'd been brought back from Antarctica. "You don't look so good."

"I'll be fine," he dismissed. "You need to go put that thing away." Jack nodded towards the odd circular device Daniel had retrieved from the items confiscated from Jack when he'd been caught.

"What exactly is it?" Daniel asked, holding it up to study it closer. It was round, about the size of his palm. The base was a round reddish colored stone encased in a gold setting that had two spirals, creating a soft of handle.

"That's what you were trying to find out," Jack said.

"I was?"

"You checked it out, trying to decipher some of the writing on the back."

"Did I have any luck?" Daniel asked pointedly.

"No," Jack declared. "You have no idea what it is, or how it works." Jack stared at him, daring Daniel to correct his words. Daniel thought about correcting him, pushing to find out what in the hell had happened. Thought about it, then dismissed the idea.

"Ok," he agreed. "Do you think I'll ever figure out what this thing is? I mean, it sorta looks like a petrified Danish but-"

"One of these days you'll figure it out," Jack said, slipping off his shoes and crawling under the covers, apparently going to sleep in the same sweats he'd worn outside.

"At least I have something to look forward to," Daniel quipped.

<><><><><>

Jack watched Daniel leave the room, unconsciously relaxing when he was left alone. He laid back on the bed, idly holding up his hand. He could still feel it, the power thrumming through his veins. He could understand now. Understand the appeal. He remembered what it felt like, remembered having the ribbon device wrapped around his hand. He could feel the power, remember killing with a thought.

It was intoxicating, invigorating.

This was why they conquered, why they ruled. This fabulous feeling of power.

He could do it again. It would be so easy. It wouldn't quite be as good as it was before, the naqahdah in his blood did allow him to use both the ribbon weapon and the healing device, but without a living symbiote within him, his power and control would be negligible.

This was what they found so addictive, so alluring. This was how they mimicked gods. It wasn't with costumes or arrogance. It wasn't because the natives were stupid or blind. It was because the goa'uld literally held the power of life and death in the palms of their hands.

It'd felt good when he'd healed Carter. He'd felt powerful, masterful, special. It'd been as rush, as good as the first time he'd jumped from a plane, when he'd found out Sara was pregnant. He wanted nothing more than to feel that way again. And he wanted it so badly that he'd had to force himself to hand the device over to Daniel and he'd had to stop himself from grabbing it back and keeping it.

Jack held up his hand, studying it in the dim light of the infirmary. He had that power within him. It was a part of him now. Jolinar had done that to him, left his blood mingled with Jack's own. It was a change that was never going to wear off or go away.

So it was a change that no one else could know about. Jack wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what would happen if the NID found out about the changes. It'd be like the Tollan all over again. They'd take him away and lock him up…for his own protection of course.

They knew about his new bloody type, there was no way too hide that. They just couldn't know everything about the new and improved Jack O'Neill. He had another secret now. But that was ok. If it was one thing Jack O'Neill knew, it was how to keep a secret.

<><><><><>

Pete pulled the car up outside the door, reaching over to pop the trunk. He put it into park and got out, leaving the engine running. "I should have rented a truck," he said, raising his eyebrows at the small cart of flowers and balloons. Sam laughed and pushed herself up out of the wheelchair, ignoring the nurse's cautioning hand. "I could always pop them, make sure there's plenty of room," he threatened.

"Pop my balloons, Shanahan, and you're going to be needing her fine services," she threatened, climbing into the passenger seat.

Pete loaded the last of the flowers into the back seat and got back into the car. He glanced over at her. She was a little pale, a little thin but she was healthy and happy and all in one piece. "Ya know, I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so," he said.

"What?" she frowned at him.

"I told you your leg would be fine," he said. "I knew you'd beat it." She smiled slightly, pulling her left leg up and absently rubbing it. She got an odd, far away look on her face, a look that spooked him. "Sam? You ok?"

"Yeah," she said slowly. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

~Fin~

Feedback:sky_diver119@yahoo.com

HOME