Present Day:
Daniel came awake with a small gasp. Gazing around, he relaxed when he realized he was in his bedroom, that he'd just had a dream. He had the same dream pretty much every night. It never changed. He was running and a man was calling to him, begging him to come back. He always stopped and turned but then the man would seem to fade away before Daniel had a chance to see his face. Daniel knew him, he was certain of that. There was something comfortably familiar about him.
His mom told him it was his imagination playing tricks on him and said it was because he read too much. The thing was, he didn't have any real friends and escaping into an adventure book made that seem not so bad. His mom home-schooled him, because he was too smart for school, she told him, and they moved so often, he'd just be getting to know the neighborhood kids and they'd be packing up once more. Until last month, at least. Last month they'd packed up again, just when Daniel had finally convinced his mom to let him go next door and play with Michael, and they moved to a little town in the country.
Daniel loved it here. Their house was small and a long way from town, but he and Sam, his dog, could go to the creek to catch tadpoles or play soldiers in the woods. Best of all, his mom had given him some big news when they arrived. She'd been given permission to adopt him. She even had a special certificate with his name and hers on it, and she told him that if they didn't have to move again, he could start going to school in town after his seventh birthday. His dad had died a while back, and while Daniel knew he should miss him, he couldn't really remember him very well. His mom said that was normal because he'd been so young when it had happened but now he had her and they had each other and Sam and that was all that mattered. He supposed she was right. Lots of kids after all didn't have anyone to love them. If it wasn't for the dreams, he figured he'd be the happiest kid around.
"Hey, Sleepyhead! You're awake at last." His mom came into the bedroom with a stack of freshly laundered clothes and plonked them down on the bed near Daniel's feet. "We need to get moving early today. The cupboards are bare and I want to go into town before that storm hits."
Daniel sat up and pulled a grey t-shirt from the stack. "Can we go to the library?" he asked. "I want to get some more books."
His mother smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. "More books? What about the ones you borrowed last week?"
Daniel shrugged and grinned. "Finished them."
"I don't know if we'll have time, sweetie," his mom said. "That rain they've been predicting is due this afternoon and we could get some flash flooding."
"Then I'll need something to read, won't I?" Daniel said, and gave her his most wheedling look.
"Enough with the puppy dog eyes," she admonished. "Get dressed now and let's see how fast we can do what we need to do. Then, we'll see."
"Okay." Daniel jumped out of bed and started pulling on his clothes. "Can we have breakfast in town? Waffles?"
"I was thinking the same thing myself. Come on, scoot."
Daniel waited until they were in the car before mentioning the one thing that bothered him. "I had another dream last night," he whispered. "About him."
"The man? Dreams cant hurt you, sweetie. Just your imagination working overtime." She tapped lightly on his head. "Too much happening in here. Might have to cut down on what you watch on TV."
"He doesn't scare me, Mom, not really. He just wants me to go with him. Do you think it could be my dad?"
She nodded. "I suppose it could be. Maybe that's why you can't see his face, because you don't really remember him."
He looked up at her, unaccountably troubled. "Sometimes I think I do remember things from before."
"Like what?"
He shrugged. They'd had this conversation before and she always got this sad look on her face. He remembered laughing and camping, and people who were nice to him, but like his imagination man, had no faces. Mixed in with those memories though were darker, more frightening ones. Of his dad shouting at him, and a lady with shining eyes, and flames that shot from her palm, making his head burn with fire. His mom had that sad, worried look on her face again. "Doesn't matter," he said. "Just imagination, right?"
She smiled then. "Right. So… waffles or pancakes?"
"Both?" he suggested with a hopeful expression. "We can have half each."
She held up her hand and he gave her a high five. "Deal!"
~o0o~
Daniel cast a longing glance at the small town library and tugged at his mother's arm. "I have an idea," he said.
His mom rolled her eyes. "Now why does that fill me with dread?"
"I was just thinking that if I go to the library while you do the grocery shopping, we'll have plenty of time to get home before the rain starts."
She looked uncertain, as he knew she would. She didn't like him going anywhere without her. She was always telling him about stranger danger.
"Come on, mom," he pleaded. "I'll be right inside. I promise not to go anywhere and I won't talk to anyone, 'cept Miss Mathers, the librarian."
"I don't know…" she said then she sighed and nodded. "Okay. I shouldn't be more than an hour but if I am, you wait inside the library for me, understand."
Daniel gave her a snappy salute. "Yes, ma'am… I mean, mom."
"Smart alec," she chided.
He scampered off, only to stop and turn when she called his name. She held his library books out to him. "Might want to take these," she said.
"Thanks."
~o0o~
Miss Beatrice Mathers wasn't one for snooping into people's affairs, despite living in a small town where rumor and gossip was rife. She did, however, fancy herself as an amateur detective, much like her literary heroine, Miss Marple.
The small boy seated at a table near the archaeology books had her curiosity piqued. He was a sweet child, well-mannered and bright, who came in with his mother once a week, devouring the small supply of archeology books the library owned. He'd almost finished what they had and she'd even put an inquiry into the neighboring town's library to see if she could get some new books for him.
It wasn't his sweet smile or obvious intelligence that had her attention though. It was the persistent idea that she knew him from somewhere. Her fellow librarian had suggested that perhaps he was one of those child actors from TV but she'd snorted at that. She didn't watch television much at all, preferring to curl up with a good book than watch the rubbish on the small screen.
She knew they were living in the old Collins place and she'd thought it strange that a single woman and her child would be living so far from town in a tiny, somewhat rundown cottage. The mother was tight-lipped whenever Beatrice tried to get her to open up about herself and her son, Danny, and Beatrice felt somewhat ashamed about snooping. Still, every time they came into the library, she would once again be captivated and more curious than she wanted to admit.
He'd proudly told her when he'd walked in today that his mother had given him permission to come in alone while she shopped and then had headed straight for his favorite spot.
Beatrice looked down again at his library details. Danny Jenkins, aged six. No school on record so his mother probably home schooled him. She glanced over the newspaper in front of her, trying to take her mind off the boy.
Father kidnaps son. No sign of John Walters for six months.
Poor child, she thought, shaking her head. How could a father take a child from his mother? A brief memory surfaced and she gasped. Surely not. She looked over at the boy again, taking in the short blond hair, the rounded cheeks, the small glasses that he continually pushed up his nose as though they didn't quite fit. Turning to her computer, she clicked on the search engine. Ten minutes later, she reached for the phone.
~o0o~
Jack thought about ignoring the phone when it rang. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, hadn't been in the mood for a long time. He was sick to death of the well meaning, annoying concern everyone showed. It had gotten to the point where even Teal'c and Carter seemed to be avoiding him.
The phone continued to ring, and it seemed whomever it was, wasn't going to give up. Cursing, Jack snatched up the receiver. "O'Neill," he snapped.
"Colonel O'Neill? It's Agent Jim Roberts from the Topeka, Kansas FBI field office."
Jack's breath caught in his throat. "Is it Daniel?"
"We have a young boy here, sir, that we believe is Daniel Jackson."
"He - He's alive?"
"And well."
"How sure are you it's him?"
"We have a woman in custody. Her fingerprints identify her as Katherine Smart, formerly of Colorado."
"Oh god. Kansas, you said?" Jack was already dialing the SGC on his cell.
"Yeah." Agent Roberts gave a small whistle. "They were pretty much under our noses the whole time."
