A/N: Just so everyone knows, despite the fact that Niko keeps pointing it out, I am actually intentionally leaving in P(string) and M(string) because I really just don't feel like inventing a new planet designation every time I send the characters somewhere new and risking duplicating one that's in the show already.

Chapter 4

Jonny sat back and looked across the room at the wall. This was like most military facilities he'd had experience with. Not many military buildings were still being used for their original purposes, so there always seems to be a feeling of fitting things into a space that's just slightly the wrong shape. He wondered what this structure was originally used for.

He was aware that Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill were staring at him, waiting for him to react, but there wasn't much to be said. Hadji was somewhere with a monster in him, and so was his father. Race didn't have any idea what was going on, so he was bound to be really worried and upset. And there was nothing Jonny could do. Even if the military would let him try to help, which they wouldn't, his ankle was broken, effectively immobilizing him.

"Jonny, we do –" started Major Carter, but Jonny had started speaking at the same time and she broke off.

"Is there a cure?" Jonny asked. They exchanged an uneasy glance, and he said, "Bob said you wouldn't kill my dad, so there has to be some kind of way back for him."

"The Tok'ra have a means to remove the symbiote from the host," Major Carter said.

"Does that leave the host's mind intact?" Jonny asked worriedly. "I mean, if it's that intense a merging . . . does the host come out sane afterwards?"

"That's a very good question, and one I have an answer for," said Colonel O'Neill. Jonny noticed that Major Carter looked a little worried, but he focused his attention on O'Neill. "I have a very good friend, Skaara, who was taken over, and in fact had a Goa'uld in his head for several years. Without going into detail, I can tell you that the snake was removed and Skaara is back to his old self again."

"That's great!" Jonny said, a brief sense of elation filling him. Then he deflated. If it took years to get them back . . .

Dr. Fraiser came over with a tray. "Sam, colonel, you want me to send for some food for you?" she asked.

"Naw," said Major Carter. "I'll just go grab a couple of trays from the commissary. You trust me, don't you colonel?" Jonny thought she looked distinctly mischievous as she backed towards the exit.

"Carter?" Colonel O'Neill's voice was a mix between entreaty and alarm. The major gave Jonny a wink and then left.

"What, Jack?" asked Dr. Fraiser. "Are you afraid she might bring you something healthy?" Jonny had to control a laugh at the outraged expression on O'Neill's face. "Now, Jonny," the doctor went on, "I want you to eat up and then take these."

Jonny looked at the little cup and grimaced. "There's nothing there that will make me sleep, is there?" he asked.

She smiled down at him. "Nope, kiddo. Just pain pills."

Jonny nodded thankfully, then shrugged, hoping no one had noticed his relief. "Food first?"

"Food first," Dr. Fraiser said, her eyes crinkling.

Glancing over at Colonel O'Neill, Jonny wasn't sure he should start eating yet since he didn't have food.

"Hey, don't wait for me," O'Neill said, waving his hands.

Jonny's stomach was finally sitting up and taking notice. He nodded and dug into the food in front of him.

"So, you still play ball?"

"When I get the chance," Jonny said. "There was a great company game a couple of months ago, but it's really hard to join leagues when I might be heading off to Uruguay or Tangiers any minute." He grinned. "On the other hand, people play ball all over the world, and that's kind of cool, too."

"Uruguay or Tangiers, huh?" Colonel O'Neill said, raising his eyebrows. "You folks sure go all over, don't you?"

"Not like you," Jonny said. Major Carter returned and the conversation shifted to food. Jonny was relieved. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about much of anything else.

When they'd all finished, Jonny let out a huge yawn, only about half fake. Both Carter and O'Neill seemed to take the hint. Carter said good night and the colonel sloped off towards the lit doorway that led to the doctor's office. There was an orderly nearby, and Jonny looked over. His name tag said Perkins. "I don't suppose you could find me a book?" Jonny asked.

"What would you like to read?" Perkins asked.

Jonny shrugged. "Anything, I guess."

"I'll be back in a minute or two," Perkins said. Jonny leaned back against the pillow trying not to think too much. Colonel O'Neill had said, "the snake was removed." Was that just a figure of speech? Some people used the word 'snake' to refer to people they didn't trust. Or was it literal?

Perkins came back with a paperback. "This is all I could find that wasn't a medical reference," he said. He held out a battered copy of Jurassic Park. Jonny took it and smiled his thanks and opened it up, sighing. His dad said this book was pointless in terms of hard science, but a very useful study in the philosophy of research. Hence the copy at Jonny's house had remained on the shelf downstairs, unread.

Daniel fitted another piece of the device into place. The case was filled with a substance that seemed rather like dry gel. As it had with all the other pieces, it seemed to well up around the component, cocooning it completely, yet with no moisture. "This is interesting," he said. "What is it?"

"Difficult to explain," Anise said carefully wrapping the scanners up and stowing them in another case. "It is shock resistant and places no pressure on the delicate components of the machine."

Daniel nodded, pursing his lips. Evidently her earlier willingness to explain things had been a freak occurrence, not destined to happen again anytime soon. "Well, that's good," he said. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to it."

They were silent for a moment and Daniel wondered just what she wanted. She had been very specific in her request for his help, but she wasn't saying much. "So, Dr. Jackson, how does your research progress?"

He looked up, startled by the question, and said, "It goes . . . well, I suppose. I'm working on translating something that appears to be descended from ancient Sumerian writing, which is proving to be both challenging and intriguing."

"I am glad to hear it," she said. "My own work has been put on hold for a time recently, due to other needed research, but I hope to be able to get back to it soon." Daniel nodded as she paused. This was an altogether unexpected conversation. "I do believe that your guest may have provided an excellent new direction in my continuing research into the problem of zatarcs."

"That's good," Daniel said. "I hope it opens a whole new line of enquiry." One that doesn't lead to the zatarc blowing his head off. "So, have you seen Jacob lately?" he asked.

"Not recently, no, though I expect to soon."

"Hey, then, maybe you should see if Sam has any message she'd like to send."

Anise smiled unexpectedly. "She always has a letter ready when one of us comes. It is unusual among the Tok'ra for a member of the host's immediate family to remain in such close contact, but very pleasing."

Daniel carefully placed the last of the pieces that had been entrusted to him into the case. "I think that's it," he said, standing up and turning. Anise had already closed the case she'd been filling. "Do you need help getting this to the Stargate?"

"I would appreciate that," she said. "Tovak will be meeting me there," she said. "He has been meeting with some of your engineers, I believe."

Daniel lifted the case he'd packed and walked alongside her towards the gateroom. "Really? I didn't know you had any interest in our technology."

"I don't," she said simply, and Daniel grimaced. He'd walked right into that. English pronouns could be very imprecise. "Though I may be in error to discount your science completely," she went on. "This virtual reality sounds like it has some potential."

"I know almost nothing about it," Daniel said. "Certainly nothing about Dr. Quest's device."

"Do you know what it is, though, a general definition?"

Daniel shrugged. "I think it's a completely computer created environment that is somehow hooked to the mind to allow . . ." He grimaced again. "I don't have any clue how it works beyond what I've seen in a few B-grade movies and TV shows. I'm probably not the right person to ask."

"Well, then, perhaps I shall return soon and see if permission cannot be granted for Jonny to discuss it with me."

"Oh, I see," Daniel said, rolling his lips in over his teeth. "If it's just a definition you want, I'm sure Sam would be more than up to that."

"I would settle for that, but more information would be needed if it were to be developed into a treatment for any zatarcs we might find." Tilting his head noncommittally, Daniel pulled out his badge and opened the door to the gateroom. She put her hand on his arm before the entered, and he turned back, hoping the surprise on his face could be read as polite inquiry. "Perhaps when I return, we could share a meal."

Daniel felt his eyes widen. "Um . . . sure," he said.

She smiled. "I look forward to it." With that they entered the gateroom and Daniel handed off his burden to Tovak. General Hammond had accompanied the other Tok'ra and was talking with him. Anise put her case down and turned to face Daniel as the gate surged open. "Farewell, Dr. Jackson," she said, and then she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Bending, she lifted her case and left without looking back.

General Hammond walked over to stand beside Daniel, who gave him a look out of the side of his eyes. "Sir, I have a question."

"Yes, Dr. Jackson?"

"Just how far do we have to go in our efforts to be . . . diplomatic . . . toward the Tok'ra."

Hammond's eyebrows raised. "Not that far, Dr. Jackson," he said, sounding vaguely amused. "Just be polite."

"Maybe we could arrange for me to have leave during her next visit."

"We'll see," Hammond said. "Well, I'd better get back to work."

Taking the hint, Daniel left the gateroom, heading back towards the infirmary, avoiding the curious eyes of the soldiers who had witnessed that leave-taking. Oh, goody, gossip.

Jack walked into Janet's office and leaned against the wall by the door so that Jonny was still in his line of sight. "So, what was that little signal all about?" he asked. Just after she had given Jonny the tray she had given him the high sign and looked towards her office.

"I wanted to talk to you privately," Janet said. "I understand that General Hammond has asked that you and Daniel take charge of Jonny." Jack nodded. "Well, then I've got some advice for you. One of you needs to stay the night here."

Jack glanced over at the boy in the bed who was looking at a paperback book with some disfavor. "I was planning on it."

"Good," Janet said.

"Why are you so urgent?" Jack asked. "Apart from the obvious being alone in a strange place after being held prisoner . . . alone in a strange place?"

Janet's lips twitched humorlessly. "He's prone to nightmares," she said. Jack's brows drew together and she raised a hand. "Don't say any of the obvious things. These aren't your standard kid-type nightmares." She sat in her chair and looked down at an open file on her desk. "I sent for copies of his medical records, and, though it doesn't go into details about the causes, there are a lot of references to severe night terrors that started about three years ago. He still has them sometimes, and they seem to be triggered by stress."

"Hence the no drugs that make him sleep?" Jack asked.

"Yes. And given his recent experiences . . ." She trailed off and Jack nodded. "I hesitate to think what his nights may have been like on that ship once he was alone."

"So we should be prepared. Is it like PTSD?"

She rolled her shoulders wearily. "Colonel, it probably is PTSD." She shook her head, looking at the file. "This is all just medical details with as little as feasibly possible included about the causes of injuries and the like, and there's no official diagnosis, but I wouldn't necessarily expect that at his age."

Jack looked back over and saw that Jonny now appeared somewhat more interested in the book he held. "So I'd better let Daniel know."

"Right," she replied. "You can sleep in the bed next to his, and tomorrow we'll probably move him into one of the VIP suites."

"Thanks, Janet," Jack said. "Are you going home?"

"Yes. I already filled Dr. Jennings in on the situation. He'll leave you alone unless you need him." She closed the file and put it into a drawer of her desk, then locked it. "See you in the morning." Jack watched as she walked over to Jonny. "Don't stay up reading too long."

"I won't," he said. "Good night."

After Janet left, Jack wandered over and sat down on the next bed. The orderly, Sergeant Perkins, was at his desk in the corner, and Dr. Jennings walked in and, nodding briefly to Jack, went back to the office.

"You should probably be heading home," Jonny said, giving him a guileless grin.

"Nah," Jack said. "I thought I'd bunk here tonight."

The boy looked at him silently for a moment, then his eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't need to be babysat," he said.

"No, I'm sure you don't," Jack said equably. "But it's a long drive and I'd just as soon stay here," he added, shrugging.

"There are people here," Jonny said, a hint of irritation in his voice. "I wouldn't be alone."

Jack grinned down at the mutinous look on the boy's face. "Well, then, you'll be slightly less alone." He kicked off his shoes and hopped up on the bed, rummaging in the bedside drawer for the remote to the television. "Besides, it's almost time for The Simpsons."

Clearly still annoyed, but just as clearly out of arguments that fell short of rudeness, Jonny sat back on his own bed and looked down at the book.

Daniel walked into the infirmary to find Jack, shoes kicked off, watching The Simpsons from the bed next to Jonny's. The boy seemed to be splitting his attention between a book and the TV. Daniel sat down in the chair next to Jonny's bed.

"You know," Jonny said quietly. "Neither of you has to stay. I'm not five. I can manage."

Daniel gave Jonny a sympathetic smile. "You'd never have guessed that the Air Force was so full of mother hens, would you?" he said, and Jonny sighed. "Actually, I just wanted to talk to Jack, but it's impossible to get anything of real value out of him till The Simpsons is over."

"Hey, Daniel," Jack hissed. "Shush!" Rolling his eyes, Daniel fell silent and watched the show with them. Jonny seemed very sleepy, but he resisted falling asleep. Giving up on the book, he focused on the show, but by the time the theme song had started, Jonny was fast asleep.

Jack eased off the bed and beckoned Daniel to follow him across the room. Before Jack could launch into an explanation, Daniel said, "Janet caught me on her way out. Do I take it you've volunteered for the night?"

The colonel shrugged. "Sure."

"I figured I'd go pick up some clothes. It sounds like at least one of us is going to stay here every night for awhile. You want me to swing by your place and grab anything?"

"I'll get it tomorrow," Jack said.

Nodding, Daniel glanced at the peacefully sleeping boy. "Do you think there's anything I should get for him? No one said anything about getting his stuff from home."

"I don't know," Jack said.

"I'll stop by Hammond's office. Maybe his aide will know what's going on."

"Good idea."

Jessie stood uneasily in the doorway holding Bandit's carrier, watching her father. It hadn't been used for three years, and she was frankly surprised that Jonny hadn't destroyed the thing. But it had simply been tucked away on the top shelf in the storeroom along with other items that saw little to no use.

At the moment, Bandit was running excitedly around Race's feet as he walked around Jonny's room, jerking drawers open and pulling out their contents. It was alarming. Normally, in even the most extreme situations, Jessie's dad was calm, easy-going, full of wit and banter. She'd never seen him this angry.

She and her father been trying yet again to hone in on the signal from the GPS systems in their watches when he'd gotten the call. He'd taken it into the next room, and at first she'd been so focused on what she was doing that she hadn't paid any attention to what he was saying. Then he'd slammed the door behind himself and started yelling, and though she listened, she couldn't hear much of what he'd said.

When he'd come out again, he'd been absolutely seething with rage. He'd told her that Jonny was safe, but that he didn't know where he was, and that Benton and Hadji were still missing. And after that he'd gone silent. She asked him once what had happened and all he did was shake his head.

"I don't know, Jess. They wouldn't tell me anything." She'd made them dinner, and he'd sat, utterly still, for the longest time she'd ever seen him do so. He ate the food she put in front of him, but didn't say anything.

Then another call had come in. Her father had been icily polite to whoever it was, and, once again, had taken the call out of the room. Before leaving, he'd asked her not to follow him, so she'd waited impatiently, pacing from one end of the kitchen to the other. Part of her knew that she should be cleaning up the mess she'd made while cooking, but she couldn't settle to anything.

What did it mean? Why weren't they telling her father anything?

When he came back, his eyes were glittering with anger and he'd told her to find Bandit's carrier. She'd obeyed without question, though it had taken a bit of searching.

Now he was packing a duffel in Jonny's room, growling periodically. "It's out of my hands, Race." He shoved a handful of black t-shirts into the bag. "There's nothing I can do, Race." He walked across to the dresser and pulled a double handful of socks out of the top drawer. "I know how you feel, Race." Dropping the socks in the duffel, he clenched his fists. "Damn it, Phil, no you don't!"

"Dad?" she said softly. "Should I pack, too?"

He looked up, seeming only just to have noticed her standing there. The grim expression on his face evaporated as he gazed at her. "No, Ponchita," he said softly, holding out a hand towards her. She walked across and he looked down at her. "I'm not supposed to tell you anything beyond the fact that Jonny's safe. This is coming down from very high up."

"But what happened? Aren't we going to see him?"

A flash of bitterness crossed his face. "We're not going anywhere."

"But then . . ." She gestured at the duffel and the carrier. "What's this for?"

"I've been asked to send him some clothes, some familiar stuff, and they specifically requested Bandit."

"Have you talked to him?" Jessie asked desperately. "How is he?"

"No, I haven't." He pulled her into a tight hug. "Phil has, and that should be good enough for both of us."

"But –"

"But nothing, Ponchita." Race drew back and looked down into her eyes. "There's a helicopter coming and I need to have things ready for him. Go write a letter to him. I'll see if they'll take it."

She stared at him. "What do I say?"

"Just tell him . . . tell him what we've been doing."

Turning, Jessie caught a glimpse of the carrier in the doorway again. "You can't send Bandit to him in a carrier, Dad," she said.

"They may not take him any other way, Jess." He sank onto the bed. "I'm going to try to persuade them to take him on a leash, but most people aren't as comfortable with having a loose dog on a plane as we are." Jessie nodded. "Now go write your letter. I have to finish up here. If you can think of anything else he'd want to have . . ."

Jessie looked around the room and her eyes fell on the pictures on his dresser. "How soon is he coming back?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said. She walked over and gathered up the ones Jonny took with him when they went on trips, but when she turned around Race was looking at her with pursed lips. "I'm not sure that's such a great idea."

"It's not the same as last time, Dad," she said. "We're sending him the ones of us, too. Maybe it will make it seem more like a normal trip to him. If Dr. Quest and Hadji aren't with him, he's got to be more than a little wigged out."

Nodding, he took them from her, stowing them in the duffel. "Get his deodorant and stuff from the bathroom, why don't you?" She went in and grabbed the bag of toiletries Jonny always kept ready in the cupboard under his sink, picking up his hairbrush and tucking it in.

Handing it off to her dad, she said, "Hang on a minute." Then she ran down the stairs and put together a care package, including plenty of Mrs. Evans' cookies and Jonny's favorite cheese snacks. She was just wrapping it up tightly when she heard IRIS announce the approach of a helicopter. "Air vehicle approaching."

Her father entered the kitchen with the duffel in one hand, Bandit tucked under his arm, and the portable radio in the other. "Permission granted, Lieutenant."

Remembering suddenly about the letter, Jessie grabbed a paper napkin and a pen from the counter and scribbled hastily, tucking the note into package with the food. Then she took off after her father into the night, towards the helipad.

When she got to the chopper, her father was talking to the pilot. "No, sir, I don't know anything but that I was instructed to come out here and pick up some packages. Does the dog have a carrier, sir?"

Race nodded and Jessie's heart sank. Bandit didn't like carriers, but it wasn't the dog she was worried about. Jonny had a powerful aversion to putting his dog in one after . . . Jessie shook her head. "Jess?" her father said, and she looked up. "Go get the carrier, will you?"

She ran up to the house and grabbed it, then ran back down to the helipad. When she got there, the pilot was weighing her care package in his hands. "I wish I had friends like you," he said, giving her a grin and she flushed in embarrassment.

"Did you write a letter?" her father asked.

"Just a note. I stuck it in there," she said, pointing.

"That reminds me. I'm supposed to give you this, sir." He handed across an envelope to Race who took it.

Jessie squatted by the carrier and got hold of Bandit. "Come on, boy," she said. Despite his wiggling and plaintive yips, she managed to get him into the carrier and shut the door in his disgusted face. Sealing the latch to keep him in, she placed his leash in one of the little compartments on the top. Standing up, she said, "Make sure he gets enough water."

"Yes, miss," the pilot said, and she detected the faintest hint of a patronizing tone. Torn between annoyance at the condescension and feeling like she deserved it for being so fussy, she stepped back from the carrier, crossing her arms. The pilot picked up the carrier and took it away into the chopper. Then he came back and said, "Thank you, folks."

Race put his arm around her shoulders, and Jessie realized that it was time to move away from the helicopter. This is so wrong! she thought mutinously, nevertheless obeying the gentle pressure her father was exerting. What could have happened? Do they think Jonny did something wrong? Where are Hadji and Dr. Quest?

A lump grew in her throat as the chopper took off and she buried her face in her father's side, muffling her tears.