Sorry! I accidentally posted the wrong chapter two! Go back and read it! Oh, and read this one too!


SG-12 had been out of contact for three hours now. The mission to a once Goa'uld occupied world had obviously turned sour. The naquadah mine probably didn't have anything left inside of it, but they had banked on the chance, and look where it got them. Five men missing or dead is where. God, it was not fun when you make a bad command decision that looked good at the time.

The Stargate was inactive, the giant metal ring sitting there innocently. The thing had been the cause for so many of his problems. The gate had brought for the evil ones, the Goa'uld, that had killed his family and his entire village. He'd sworn to fight them, to make sure that they didn't kill anyone else. So far he was doing a lousy job at it. They were killing his people left and right. He'd lost so many teams to them, so many young men and women dead for no reason. Well, not no reason, just not a very good one. Freedom. He guessed it was a good a reason as any, but there wasn't ever a good reason for death.

He knew that death was pointless, but it had to happen, so maybe not so pointless. He knew that death for a cause was not so bad, but the sting never left. He could never rid himself of the stench and sting of death; it followed him like the blood on his hands. He couldn't forget the faces of all the people he'd killed. He didn't really want to forget them either, part of him didn't anyway. He could use the faces and memories to punish himself for killing them in the first place. All of the sniper work he had done was a good start; the many times he'd been a mercenary or an assassin.

He'd killed many for money and greed, god and country. He wasn't a good guy; he knew that, just no one else did. But strange as it was those who did saw him as good too, he didn't understand. He'd taken many lives for no reason, killed in cold blood and wouldn't hesitate to do so again. That scared him more than anything else. That he would kill someone in cold blood to save another. He would though. If it was to save one of his teammates he would do it in a heartbeat. That thought alone was somehow comforting amongst the others. Knowing that he could save someone close to him helped. At least he wouldn't fail all of his people; he would be able to protect those closest to him.

Footsteps jarred him out of his thoughts. O'Neill turned to see Daniel Jackson walk into the conference room. He offered the young man a half smile that wasn't returned and tried not to wince. God, they were angry with him! Very angry. Crap. He turned back to the window staring long and hard at the gate. He felt Daniel come to stand next to him and tried hard not to speak, trying to wait for the linguist to say what was on his mind instead.

"So…" Daniel breathed out. He didn't speak again for a long moment, trying to decide what to say. He really didn't know. What do you say to a man who's heard it all? "You're immortal."

O'Neill smirked but didn't turn to look. "Yeah, we've established this already."

"No, not really." Jackson shot back, his gaze fixed on one of the 'gate's many chevrons. "I still can't wrap my mind around the fact."

O'Neill sighed; he cast a quick glance in the archeologist direction. The man was standing there hugging himself. He swallowed and looked away. God, poor kid. His mind was probably working faster than his. "Daniel…I can't do anything more to help you believe it. You have to accept what is right in front of you. There is no hidden meaning this time, not really anyway."

"That's just it!" Jackson whirled around to face O'Neill. "What is the meaning? How are you immortal and I'm not? Why? I want to know! Why do people like you exist? What is the reason?"

Jack blew out a long breath and turned to face the troubled mortal. "I don't know why I'm immortal, Daniel. But I know why we exist. To protect. We're supposed to protect Earth, from what I have no idea but it's our purpose."

Daniel stood silently, his eyes boring in the Immortal's. He didn't know if what Jack had said was true, but he didn't know otherwise at the moment. All he knew is what he was being told and that wasn't enough. He needed more, needed to know all of this so he could make a judgment. This was his friend and he didn't want to rush into anything. He didn't want to make a decision or form an opinion on only half the facts, it would help no one.

"How do you know?" Daniel said softly after a pregnant pause.

"I was here when Ra first came." Jack said just as softly. "I watched his ship land, watched him kill those that refused him as their god. I was one of those killed. I was the only one in my village who woke up. I was alone and scared and didn't know what to do, until I met this jaffa. He taught me things that I never thought I would know. Told me of far away lands and of my purpose here." He stopped to look over the confused and curious man beside him. "Now I know he really wasn't a jaffa, he looked like an Ancient. I didn't know any better then, but he taught me. I don't know why he chose me, Daniel but he did."

Daniel was confused, and yet he was amazed. He knew an Ancient! He met one and talked to him, like a friend. Just like Oma. It might have been her. He was startled at this. Was it her? Or was it someone else? The questions seemed to be endless and the answers few and far between. He sighed heavily and looked his friend in the eye. "Who was it really?"

"Oma." Jack had a small smile on his face. "Imagine how I felt seeing her again. God, it was a head rush! I was stunned! I had no idea! I know she's not a guy, but hey they can take any form they want. And back then I would have only listened to a man."

Daniel nodded mutely. "Yeah, I can see why." He looked up from his scrutiny of the floor. "So, what was it like living then?"

"Stinky, smelly and violent." Were the first words out of the older man's mouth. "It seemed death was around every corner then. The jaffa were always killing somebody. They had no air conditioning and you had to walk everywhere if you weren't rich. Most of the lower class were slaves or servants. War seemed to be a favorite pastime. It was not a fun place to be."

"Did you help build the pyramids?" Daniel asked excitedly. O'Neill smirked, that was the Daniel he knew.

"Uh, yeah." Jack's smirk turned into a smug grin when Daniel's mouth fell open. "Those stones were some of the heaviest things I have ever had to carry."

Daniel was still to shocked to speak. Jack helpedbuild the pyramids! It was running through his mind like a mantra. He couldn't believe it. His friend had lived through history, hell, he was! Jack O'Neill was history! He was five thousand years old and he helped build the pyramids! Heaven help us all! He thought wryly. He'd lived in Egypt during the time of Ra and the Goa'uld. He was taught by an Ancient and couldn't die, well permanently, oh he could, but he had no clue how. Which, considering, was a good thing. Then a thought occurred to him. "Why haven't you recruited Immortals to the SGC?"

The General's face darkened and his eyes turned cold. "Because I can't. I'm the only Immortal that knows about our real purpose. The others think it is to fight to rule the world. There's a 'Game' we fight each other trying to take the other's head, literally. They think that if you are the last living Immortal you will gain some kind of power."

Daniel could feel the contempt dripping off the words as they were spoken. Jack was really torn up by this. He thought. He guessed he would be too if he had to live for five thousand years killing people. That thought sent a chill down his spine, he didn't think he could. It was hard to take a life, he knew that and he knew Jack did too.

"Is that why you're so tired sometimes?" Daniel asked quietly.

O'Neill let out a breath. "Yeah. Some nights all I'm doing is fighting and running for my life. Sometimes it's so hard that I just want to curl up and die. But I can't, because I have a duty, one I don't intend to forsake. I took an oath and I will fulfill that oath."

Daniel just nodded mutely. Then his head snapped up. "Oh god! That was why you forgot about the briefing this morning! What happened last night?"

"I got cornered in a bar." O'Neill answered, his voice even. "He chased me most of the night until I got tired of it and fought him. He's gone and here I am able to tell about it."

Daniel swallowed hard. God, he couldn't even begin to imagine going through something like that on a daily basis. He didn't really want to. He liked his life the way it was. He didn't have to kill people to stay alive; he didn't have to run for his life and that of someone else's every night. He couldn't even dream of doing such a thing if given the choice, he'd rather be dead than that. He could see at times so did Jack, but he wasn't too worried, the man was honorable to a fault and couldn't really take his own life, permanently anyway.

God, there was a fun thought! Jack shooting himself to just try and be dead for the moment, to make it so that nothing mattered. The thought made him sick at his stomach and he wondered if he should knock before he walked into the man's bedroom. He didn't want to find a corpse on the floor. Okay Jackson, enough of that! Think happy thoughts!

"I'm sorry." Daniel finally croaked. "I was angry at you, I shouldn't have been. I should have been glad you were safe, not headless in some alley."

O'Neill nodded, "Yeah, but I can't say I was surprised." He shrugged. "I've been in hot water before because of stuff like this. It's not a big deal."

"It is to me!" Daniel interrupted. "I just learned my best friend is risking his life by walking out his front door! It's not fair!"

"Daniel…" Jack tried to find the right words to say. "Everyone risks their lives walking out of their front doors. And they think nothing of it. I know it's not fair but some things just aren't. You just have to suck it up and get over it."

Daniel turned away, angry at the world and the people who had hurt his friend, his big brother. He wanted to knock their skulls together and teach them a lesson, but he knew that Jack wouldn't want that, and that he couldn't. He sighed angrily and turned back on his heel to face his stone-face friend. He really didn't have the words to say what he wanted. Jack would get a kick out of that. He thought suddenly. Him, an accomplished linguist not having the right words to say. He snorted at that, Jack had said that before.

"Yeah…" He breathed. He cast an angry look at the Stargate. "Who are you sending out after SG-12?"

"Us." At his confused look O'Neill went on. "SG-1, I'm going with you."

Daniel smiled. It would be like old times, the times he so sorely missed. "I'd like that, we all would."

"Good."


Rick threw the remote down to the floor and paced the room. It had been a while since Jon had left and he was getting nervous. He hated it when he didn't know where his friend was. It made him uneasy and he got scared. What if he was dead? What if he left? What if he didn't? God what if an Immortal came after him? Good lord that would be a disaster in the making. He pitied the man that did though, he'd have to answer to Jon and that would be a sight to see.

A loud bang and the sound of glass breaking snapping Rick out of his pacing. Shit! Someone is breaking in! He ran to the sofa and pulled out the gun from earlier. He held it with practiced ease and crept towards the sound. He rounded the hallway and was slowly making his way towards the kitchen. He could hear someone pottering around inside of it and he stopped.

It sounded like they were into the fridge. His eyebrows rose at that but he kept quiet. Carefully he peeked around the wall and saw a man in a black coat, with a gun in his left hand, a sword under the jacket, his blond hair stood out against the black, and he seemed to be making a sandwich. Huh. Rick crept around the corner and aimed the weapon. He was about to speak but the intruder beat him too it.

"I was wondering when you'd work up the guts to walk around the wall." He spoke, not turning around. Rick stifled a groan, god could he not sneak up on someone? "Oh, and for your information, I will pay for the window." This time he did turn around, taking a big bite of his ham, cheese and lettuce sandwich. He swallowed it and leant against the counter top. "Ya know, Jack told me about you, said you were a flake. He didn't say you could handle a gun."

Rick still kept said firearm aimed at the man's chest. "Yeah, well, it's a new skill I acquired." He glared at the blond-haired, brown-eyed man. "What are you doing here? And just who the hell are you?"

The man snorted. "Geez, you're a demanding little flake. I'm Jordan Price. I have some information for O'Neill." He took another bite of his sandwich. "Besides I missed the old coot."

Rick lowered the weapon, noticing that Price hadn't even raised his. "Okay, what kind of information?"

"That's none of your concern!" Price snapped. "Look, just tell me where he is and this can go down with out anyone getting shot."

"I don't know where he is!" Rick shot back. "He left for the base eight hours ago, I haven't seen him since!"

Jordan nodded. "Okay, fair enough." He threw the remainder of his sandwich into the trash. "See ya." He jogged over to the window and climbed out before Rick could stop him.

"Damn!" Rick cursed as he watched Price ride away on his motorcycle. "Jon is so gonna kill me."


Well, here is chapter four to make up for my little blunder earlier! Please drop me a line.