"Now open your mouth wide."
She gently tucked the tongue depressor into his mouth, shining a light so she could better see the scar forming at the back of his throat.
"Well," Doctor Fraiser tucked her light into her pocket and smiled at the boy. No matter what his age there was no way Janet could bring herself to think of him as an adult. "It looks as though your throat is healing nicely. I see no signs of infection. How's the pain?"
The boy stared at her blankly, not even blinking in response to her question.
"All right," Janet picked up a needle. "I'm giving you this for the pain." Once again the patient was nonresponsive. He had been that way for almost a week, spending the one before that unconscious. She had taken the time to stitch up the wound left by the Goa'uld, but Janet was afraid that the boy's problems were worse than that.
"And done." She wiped the injection site, speaking more to give herself a sense of calm than out of any belief that her voice would somehow breach the silence that Yugi was surrounded in. Though she supposed that anything was possible. She discarded the syringe, moving into one of drawers and rifling through its contents. "There we are."
She pulled out a small sucker. "This is for you." No response. Janet picked up Yugi's hand, setting the candy in his palm, curling his fingers around it.
"You never give me candy." Jack strode into room, Sam following close behind him.
"You never follow my orders."
The Colonel nodded. "You have a point." He waved his arms, both of them, over his head. In exchange for half the snake the Tok'ra had agreed to patch him up. It had only taken a little browbeating, a little reminding of the fact that it was they who introduced the shooter to the SGC. That may have had something to do with the lack of candy on their side.
"Any changes?" Sam peered anxiously at the patient.
"None," Janet shook her head. "He's still not responding. It could be due to trauma but it is likely, given what we know of symbiotes, that there is damage to the brain and nervous system."
Jack waved a hand in front of the kid's face. "So how long will it take him to get over that?"
Both Sam and Janet resisted the urge to roll their eyes. "He won't, Sir."
Startled, O'Neill looked back to the women. "Don't tell me that! I have a woman who is going to use my body parts to decorate her museum if we don't get this kid back to her and in one piece. And I think she can do it, too."
Janet sighed, lowering her clipboard. "I wish I had better news Colonel, but unless the patient starts showing signs of improved mental function soon, within the next few days, it is likely that he will never recover. Without knowing why his body rejected the Goa'uld it is impossible to determine what type of damage has been done. I'm sorry, Colonel, but I've done all I can."
"Damn." Jack leaned on the bed lowering his head and trying not to imagine his intestines as wall art.
"Anyway, I gave him something for the pain and it is likely to make him sleepy."
"Thanks Janet," Sam gave the doctor a pat on the back. "We'll take him back."
"Come on kid." Jack grasped the boy's shoulder, gently pushing him off the bed. The boy responded to the touch with minimal resistance, allowing himself to be guided. As the left the infirmary Sam threw one last look over her shoulder. "Problem Carter?"
"No Sir. Just a shadow."
***
The SGC stood quiet, no sirens screaming or light flashing in panic. There were no soldiers running down the concrete halls, guns drawn and at the ready. The only sounds that echoed down were the frantic rustling of papers and the frenzied tapping of a pen. On occasion a disembodied murmur silenced the other rhythmic sounds.
Daniel stared at the mess before him, trying to will it into some sort of logical conclusion. The mess resisted, glaring balefully at the archeologist with paper eyes.
"Any luck?"
He started, stumbling as he jumped out of his seat, crashing to the ground in a landslide of paper. Hands pulled at him helping him up.
"Sorry Daniel!"
He readjusted his glassed. "It's okay Sam. I was just preoccupied. I didn't hear you come in."
Sam bent down, scooping up the white sheets that had accompanied Daniel to the floor. She glanced at the pages as she set them on the desk, trying to make heads and tails of the chaotic scribbles that danced across the page. Failing, she turned to their source for answers. "What are you working on?"
"Artifact catalogues." He ruffled through more piles, more for the sake of movement than out of any planned search.
"Excuse me?" Sam turned the sheet around. Maybe she was holding it wrong.
"Oh," Daniel finally looked up, his face reflecting his mind coming back to reality. "The Egyptian government sent us copies of Miss Ishtar's findings. I know that we already sent copies to the Tok'ra but I'm searching through, trying to find the connection between the excavation and Apep." He resumed his rustling, frowning at the papers.
"Any luck?" Sam leaned in, trying to see whatever it was that Daniel was looking at.
Daniel stilled. He dropped the papers, slamming his hands onto the tabling and falling back into his chair. "No," he ran his fingers through his lengthy mop, "I can't find anything! All that they found were two ribbon devices and a Goa'uld healing device. Yeah it's a big find here but there is nothing exceptional about it, nothing worth breaking cover for! I can't figure out what he was looking for! There is nothing here!" Daniel slumped, his forehead hitting the desk.
"Daniel…" Sam stared at the archeologist, hoping to ease his mind. She noticed the pale skin and the dark circles around his eyes. "When was the last time you slept?"
He lifted his head, paper drifting from his forehead. He shot Sam a blank look. "What day is it?"
Sam laughed, her bright laughter filling the dark room. "Get some rest. I'm sure the Tok'ra will figure things out. Go home Daniel. Or at least to the mess hall. Colonel and Teal'c are there."
He bit his lip, staring back at the mess. Maybe a retreat would be for the best. He could come back when he was rested.
"SG-1, report to the briefing room immediately. SG-1, report to the briefing room immediately."
Or not.
***
A wet slurping sound filled the conference room before O'Neill, speaking through a mouth full of fried chicken, asked the question of the hour. "What are we doing here?"
"Jack, shut up." Hammond was cranky. He had spent the last two weeks on the phone getting chewed on by his superiors for security breaches. When he wasn't doing that he was filling out the paperwork caused by dealing with Egypt, who were cooperative only due to the half ass 'plague' story that SG-1 had cracked out. But there was the heat from the international community for the United States playing with fire and dropping it on others laps. And if that weren't enough the Tok'ra had been hammering on the door to get a look at the kid who was still in drool made. Plus he was going to have to deal with this.
"Is everything all right Major Carter?" Teal'c titled his head to the side, turning to stare at the woman who was frantically rubbing her eyes.
"It's fine Teal'c." She smiled to highlight her point. "My eyes are just playing tricks on me, probably due to sleep deprivation."
"And you were telling me I was bad." Daniel shot Sam and accusing look, who could only smile guiltily in response.
Jack took another bite of his drumstick, sucking the last bit of meat before tossing the bone. The rest of the team lapsed back into a tense silence. At least until the door opened.
"General Hammond… What the Hell is he doing here?"
"Ah, nice to see you to Jack." Colonel Maybourne stepped through the door sporting a slick suit and a slicker haircut. He flashed a sales person smile before striding to the front of the room going to stand by Hammond. "I'm here to acquire test subject codename Antivenom. Orders of the President." Maybourne smirked at the disbelief in the conference room. "You are all required to fill out these forms on any and all interactions you've had with him."
"Sir!" Jack stood, his chair firing into the concrete wall.
"I called the President, Colonel. He's confirmed what Maybourne said. You are to have the reports filled out by 1700 hours tomorrow, when Maybourne will be shipping out." To say that Hammond did not sound happy would be a drastic understatement.
"Wait, with the kid?" Daniel looked around. "I'm sorry Sir but you can't mean that. He's not even an American citizen. It's not like we can take him and make him disappear into some lab for the rest of his life."
"I have authorization to do just that Dr. Jackson." Maybourne bounced on his heels, seemingly excited by all the resistance. "This could be our chance at finding a way not just to prevent Goa'uld infection but also to safely remove symbiotes from hosts. Besides, I've read the charts. The kid's basically a walking vegetable. We need him and he is blissfully unaware of anything going on. If her were more than a walking doll we would have a problem, but he's not, so we don't." Maybourne settled into a chair like a cat in a sunbeam.
"Wait just a minute!" jack was still on his feet, still looking pissed. "This kid knows people. You think they aren't going to notice when we don't give him back? What about Isis? "
Teal'c turned to Maybourne, raising an eyebrow to accentuate O'Neill's point.
"That," Maybourne crossed his hands across his chest, "has already been handled."
***
She had been sitting with the rest of her team when she had seen the rising line of dust. They had all watched it with a mixture of hope and despair. Despair because they had been in quarantine for weeks with no news from the outside world. The military had confiscated all electronic devices in the name of "panic prevention." The only people who the dig team saw, besides each other, were the military types, all frowning and scowling and telling no one what was going on. Everyone was hot, sweaty, dirty, and sick of each other's company.
But hope pervaded, as it always did, like the plague that they were all supposed to have been exposed to, despite only Yugi having "fallen ill." Perhaps the vehicle was something other than supplies. Perhaps it was the order for their freedom, finally. Perhaps it was news on Yugi.
The vehicle had drawn near and more men in military gear had hopped out. After commiserating with higher ups she had been called away and given the good news. The plague was contained. They were free to go. She had smiled, briefly, in celebration for her people, as their personal affects were returned to them and transportation was arranged so all could finally go home.
Then she had been handed the urn and an apology and had been left standing alone in the desert.
Isis stared down at the jar, feeling the cold handles beneath her grip. She could feel gravity pull at the urn, trying to yank the smooth arms out of her grip.
She let it.
The vase was caught by the sand, cradling it but tipping it to the side. The lid fell off, silver ash spilling into the golden sand, the wind carrying the lies off to be lost in the desert.
She flicked open her phone.
A deep voice on the other end answered.
"Moshi moshi?"
"We need to talk."
***
He lay on his side, breathing slowly and evenly, every inhale and exhale clearly punctuated. To the outside observer, and they were there, outside and observing, Yugi looked to be in deep sleep. That's all he seemed to do. The doctor had stitched up his throat and the boy had slept for days, his mind wrapped in a comforting darkness, his body responsive only to the most basic of stimuli. When he wasn't being examined by Doctor Fraiser he was here, locked in a room under the view of a camera, lying on his side and breathing slowly.
But cameras couldn't see everything.
Yami sat in Yugi's soul room, watching as the boy lay on the bed, his finger tracing imaginary patterns across the room, his eyes scrunched in concentration.
"Yugi." The Pharaoh's tone was soft, gentle. Unusual for him.
It caused Yugi to pause, his finger stopping in mid swing. "Yes Yami?" He rolled onto his belly, sinking deep into the dark fluffy blankets of his bed.
"Yugi, you need to go back." Yami whispered the words soothingly, as though breaking bad news to someone who couldn't understand it. "Yugi"
The boy sighed, drawing himself into a sitting position, his chin tucked into his knees. "But that is not all you have to say." His violet eyes peered through dark lashes, clouded with worry.
"Yes," Yami nodded darkly. "We are in danger. A man has come and wishes to take you away to a place where we will not be able to freely leave from. The people who came to the dig site wish to stop him but cannot. I think he is under orders from his leader."
Yugi giggled into his knees. Around him the now golden patches of his butter yellow shimmered under the sunlight. He peeked his head up, smiling at Yami. "So it is business same as usual. For us, anyway." The boy was grinning despite the bad news.
"Aibou?" Yami had thought that Yugi would still be… fragile after his latest trauma. "Are you sure you are okay?"
"If I am not I will be, Yami." He smiled again, despite the circles under his eyes. "We both knew that I could not stay here forever. It's been long enough. And I am not worried." He crawled across the bed, depositing himself in Yami's lap, snuggling deep into the Pharaoh's chest, "because I have you."
Despite himself Yami chuckled and held Yugi closer.
"That you do, Aibou."
Out side the soul room, to the place where the cameras could see, Yugi's body breathed in, and out.
Moshi moshi- Response when answering the phone. Just like in French where you answer the phone "Allo" but normally say "Bonjour" or equivalent when in person.
-Sorry, I changed it because I was wrong.
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A/N-Don't forget to check out my poll on my profile! And reviews are much appreciated.