Homeworld Command. Pentagon

David clicked the mouse and ended the video conference on the Lucian Alliance that he'd had with the IOA. He hadn't turned off the camera yet, and his image was on the monitor. He glanced at himself. It was a habit he'd developed since he'd begun using the communication stones. It was disconcerting to be yourself, have your own thoughts and emotions, and then look down to see another man's hands moving to your mind's commands.

So he'd taken to checking, to see if the face in the mirror or glass or monitor was his own. He looked hard at his true reflection, at his skin tone, his dark brown eyes, the black hair that tended to curl a little if he let it grow, the cheekbones, all the features that he'd inherited from his mother's people, an eclectic mix of Cherokee, Scots, and Irish for which he could also thank for his height.

It was a reality check, one that was still strong even though it'd been three years since he'd last used the stones to visit Destiny.

He brushed his hands over his short military hairstyle and laid them on his desk, looking down at his large, strong, capable hands, the long fingers.

He remembered how different it had been to switch with Rush – he much preferred Everett's body, strong as his own, if shorter – and how things that should have been within his reach were now over his head, how the slender fingers, the smaller hands had irritated him.

He had been so tempted to ask for a razor and demand that Becker, the unofficial barber on Destiny, cut Rush's hair so that it wasn't hanging in his eyes or touching his shoulders. At least he always changed out of Rush's increasingly grimy shirts and jeans and into BDUs.

Although, to be fair, he supposed Rush couldn't help it that his clothes were becoming more and more stained and worn. If Destiny had a laundry facility that was as efficient as the shower system, nobody had gotten it up and running.

Destiny was on his mind constantly.

It had been fourteen days since he'd looked down at Rush on a gurney at the SGC infirmary. He'd had twice daily reports from Dr. Brightman on Rush's condition. Rush, kid Rush, had gone down to a five on the EEG scale, but the ascendometer's reading on his potential for ascension had stabilized at sixty-five for the last ten days. And four days ago, his EEG readings had started to improve.

His email notification chimed. He tapped at his computer and brought up the new report from the SGC.

He read it rapidly, noting that Rush was coming out of the coma, but was still running a fever that varied from 101 to 104. His EEG reading was at seventeen, and the ascension scale at sixty-five still. The fever had begun on day six of Rush's coma.

Brightman's report speculated that the fever was similar to the one that Cassandra Frasier had run when her body was adjusting to the retro virus Nirrti had implanted in her, activating in her teen years. The alien girl had been developing telekinetic powers, but she'd almost died from it. Hammond had okayed a deal with Nirrti, and the Goa'uld had stopped the virus' effects in exchange for her freedom.

Hammond had let a Goa'uld system lord walk through the stargate. That hadn't backfired, not at all. Of course, nobody wanted to let that girl die, but the right decision hadn't been made. Hammond and O'Neill had gone soft. And David and his team had ended up paying for that, in that hellhole of a lab that Nirrti had trapped them in.

Sometime, hard decisions had to be made. He was capable of it, had always been capable of it, even if it meant sacrificing a child. Or someone who looked like a child.

If Rush, trapped in that little body, won the battle over the fever, then it was more promising that he was going to live. It was too soon to find out if he was going to be cognitively impaired, but even so, he would still dream. Dreams that could be deciphered and perhaps they would learn the reason Rush had descended and come to the SGC.

David was a strategist. He'd set his plan for taking control of Rush into action two weeks ago, contingent upon Rush living.

In six more days, he would touch one of the Ancients' stones, and wait, mediating, waiting, to see if he would find himself on Destiny.

And if kid Rush had woken up by then, David would begin interrogating him.

If Rush was on Destiny, if the ship had weathered the trip through the void, then he intended to take another step towards forcing kid Rush to remember who he was.

Adult Rush wasn't going to like it.

But then, adult Rush wasn't going to like a lot of things David had planned for him once Destiny's crew had woken up.

Six days, and a lot of questions would be answered.

Six days.

x x x

David closed down his computer and stood and stretched. It was almost time. He locked his office, and walked down the hallways of Homeworld Command, nodding to various officers who caught his eye.

He could have sent one of his subordinates to the SGC, but this was his mission and he should begin as he meant to continue. He planned on closely supervising Rush's interrogation until he'd gotten the information he needed. Dr. Brightman's report this afternoon said Rush would be discharged home tomorrow.

Tomorrow David would be on stones duty, hoping for a connection with Destiny.

This evening he would be beamed into the SGC and he would leave with Rush.

He did not want any scenes with the Silers or SG1. He could easily arrange for Siler to be called away to fix some malfunctioning equipment if he was with Rush in the infirmary.

SG1 was off planet meeting with Lucian Alliance informants and not due back for two days. He'd fed the intel to Landry, suggesting that his best people handle the op. He knew full well Landry would send SG1. David didn't put it past Vala to sneak Rush off the base if she knew David planned on taking him, or Teal'c to take him off world under his protection until Jackson and Mitchell hatched a scheme to stop David.

They couldn't stop him. He'd made sure of that.

As far as Landry knew, David was coming to meet with Dr. Lee about some tech Lee was working on. It would be a simple extraction. He'd order Lee to have Rush brought down to his lab to put on the bracelet, or to check on it if it was already around Rush's wrist. Siler would be sent on a wild goose chase and he'd beam out with Rush.

Rush had been awake for three days now, and hadn't run a fever for the last four days. While he was weak, his cognitive skills were intact, or at least the testing he'd had proved that he hadn't lost his ability to read and write, or sign. He still couldn't speak, and that was disappointing. The mathematical talent he'd demonstrated before falling asleep this morning had been extraordinary. David wondered if Rush would surpass his considerable original abilities.

His suggestion to Dr. Brightman to use the Goa'uld device to see Rush's dreams had been rejected. That had cemented his resolve that he needed to take charge and remove Rush from his current environment.

He knew he would be considered heartless, taking a child away from his adoptive family, but the stakes were too high to allow Rush to remain with them.

He would send him back, when the mission was completed. When he had no more use for Rush.

For now, he had set up a safe house, with all the equipment necessary to break through to Rush's memories. His team was there. They would follow his lead, even if it was unpleasant.

His last step before being beamed out was to meet with the IOA's legal department.

x x x

Sly handed Malin his shoes. "Dr. Bill wants us down in his lab, kiddo. Put those on and then we'll say bye to your mama."

Malin nodded and drew one leg up where he was sitting on his gurney, slipped one red sneaker on and tied it.

He beckoned to Mary and she held a hand out in acknowledgment. She had some questions for Dr. Brightman about watching for any complications from the coma Malin had been in for so long.

He tousled Malin's hair and his boy looked up at him, smiling that sweet smile that just melted Sly's heart.

They had almost lost him.

They had almost...

He swallowed down the lump that seemed to have risen from his heart and lodged in his throat.

Malin was all right. He hadn't suffered any brain damage that the doctors could find, and he'd become much more powerful with his telekinesis. Dr. Brightman and Dr. Lam thought that he'd used his healing power on himself, to protect his brain from the onslaught of the memories that had returned.

It was hard to tell what exactly Malin did remember of his former life. He had the skills now that Dr. Rush apparently had, mathematical and musical, for languages and his bent for technology, but he didn't remember people he'd known when he'd been Dr. Rush.

Well, maybe that wasn't quite accurate. Maybe some of the feelings he had about people he'd known resonated with him, but not in a way he could explain.

It made Sly wonder if Malin had taken a shine to him because Dr. Rush had apparently liked him. Not that Sly had known that at the time. It wasn't as if Dr. Rush had been a buddy, or even more than polite and civil to him. Still, he had gone out of his way those few times to lend a hand, brushing off any thanks.

Dr. Rush had known his way around a tool box, but now that Sly thought about it, he'd always deflected any personal questions. Sly hadn't even known Dr. Rush's wife had recently died, when he'd see him covering his face with his hands, sitting tucked up against the wall in the alcove by the power station room, muffled sobs sometimes wracking Dr. Rush's thin body.

He just known the man was in misery, hiding away, and wanted to be left alone with his obvious grief.

He stroked a finger down Malin's cheek, and pushed his bangs back from his face.

"Other shoe, son."

Malin tugged on the other sneaker. Malin had his own life now, and it was going to be with him and Mary and their kids. Their kids knew that they were planning on adopting Malin, but they didn't know the classified stuff.

They'd met Malin yesterday, on an upper level of the base that wasn't part of Stargate Command.

Malin had been shy, ducking behind Sly's legs but his older kids had been great with him, coaxing him into playing a game, talking to him about becoming their little brother.

Molly Jean had been learning sign language since they'd told her about the mute child he and Mary wanted to adopt; Sly was so proud of her for reaching out to Malin. The little guy had warmed up to her right away when she'd signed that she was his big sister and it was her job to look out for him. Then she'd handed him a large Kit Kat bar.

"Daddy said that was your favorite," Molly Jean said.

Malin signed thank you. He opened the package and then split the candy bar into eight pieces, giving one to everybody.

"Okay, he's in," Nathan and Michael said, almost in unison.

"They do that a lot," Johnny whispered to Malin. "Talk almost at the same time. It's because they're twins and sort of-"

"Johnny," Sly said.

"What, Dad? I was going to say... entwined. They're entwined."

Sly just gave him a look. Malin was watching all of them with the fascinated stare that he usually reserved for shows about dinosaurs or robots.

Benny made a point of announcing that Malin was the baby of the family now, and that finally, finally it was his turn to be a big brother.

Malin signed that he wasn't a baby, his lower lip pooching out a little. Sly hadn't intervened. Malin was going to have four older brothers and affectionate teasing by them was part of the deal.

Molly Jean came to his rescue, much as she had always done for whichever little brother was getting teased by the others.

"Of course you're not a baby baby, Malin. Benny just means that you'll be the youngest now, not him." She knelt and hugged Malin. He let her, and that was a great sign. Malin wouldn't let just anybody hug him or pat him on the back. "It's a pretty sweet deal, though, being the youngest. Mama and daddy let the youngest one get by with everything." Molly Jean stood back up, tousling Malin's hair.

Malin rolled his eyes, smoothing his hair back down, making Mary smile. The boy's hair was like a magnet to people; they couldn't seem to resist touching it, running fingers through it or doing what Molly Jean had done, making it stick up in all directions. He looked like a bemused baby bird when people tousled his mop.

"Not true, Malin, don't believe her," Benny squawked, just like Sly had expected. This was an old, old argument between the siblings, which one had the better deal. Benny went on "When you're the only one left at home, then they watch you like a hawk."

"Nah," Johnny said, "Being the middle kids suck." The twins gave emphatic nods. "The parents don't want you to do the dumb stuff the older one got by them," he gave a pointed look towards Molly Jean, "and they've still got energy to clamp down on you. By the time the youngest one becomes a teenager, they're too tired to make his life miserable with rules like "No, you can't go camping with so-and-so, without adult supervision. Be glad, be very glad, that you're gonna be the caboose to this train."

"That's enough, you hooligans," Mary said, walking up to each boy, and pulling them down so she could kiss them on the cheek. Molly Jean she put an arm around and squeezed. Mary and Molly Jean were almost the same height, Molly Jean had maybe an inch on her mother, and she'd inherited her dark black hair and fair skin. The boys were like him, tall with sandy brown hair. He thought about Dr. Rush for a moment. Malin was going to be the shortest in the family, probably. Even Mary would be taller than him by two inches or so. He expected the boys would end up teasing Malin when he was grown about being their little brother literally. He was betting that Malin would hold his own, though. His little guy was tough.

Mary walked over to Malin, bent and kissed him on the top of his head. "Malin, they're all my babies. They always will be, and so will you. They'll be fussing over whether it's better to be the youngest or oldest when they're seventy years old."

Malin made some swift gestures with his fingers and hands and Molly Jean started to giggle.

"He just said that you guys are silly."

"Yes," Mary said. "They are. You'll get used to them. Boys, I expect you to help out with taking Malin to baseball and soccer games, if your school and work schedules don't conflict."

"Malin, you like soccer?" Michael asked.

Malin nodded, and Nathan and Michael said, "Sweet," at the same time.

Malin held his hand out for a high-five, and the twins both gave him one.

The rest of the visit was spent playing Yahtzee, and planning out painting the room that would become Malin's. The boys and Molly Jean were going to tackle it when they left the base.

Benny pulled a page of math problems out of his back pocket and was in the process of conning Malin into doing his homework for him, when Sly intervened.

"Nope. Malin, listen carefully. You can check his answers to see if he did them the right way, but you aren't going to do his homework for him."

Malin nodded and took Benny by the hand and tugged him over to the table and pushed him into a chair. He waited, expectantly. Benny groaned and took a pencil out of a pocket. He sighed and got to work on his summer school homework of Algebra II.

Mary beamed at Sly, happy, so happy now that Malin was well and coming home with them in two days.

His youngest had started to tire rapidly after that, and Sly escorted his older kids out to the Cheyenne Mountain parking lot while Mary plopped Malin back into a wheelchair and took him back down to the infirmary.

One more night here on the base, and then Malin would be able to come home. Dr. Lee wanted to do some last checks on the bracelet that would lock around Malin's wrist, that would keep him from accidentally doing things that would call attention to himself.

"Ready?" Sly pointed to the wheelchair but Malin shook his head and stood up on the gurney, then flung himself towards Sly.

Sly caught him. "All right, monkey. I'll carry you." Malin had been more clingy since the coma, sitting in Mary's lap, wanting Sly to carry him. Dr. Brightman said to just love him and hold him, and it would pass.

Sly walked over to Mary and Dr. Brightman. He dipped Malin down so that he could give Mary a hug. Mary kissed him on the cheek, and played with a strand of his hair when Sly straightened up.

"No more than an hour, Sergeant. Don't let Dr. Lee keep you two longer than that. I want this young man to get a good night's sleep, and the night staff will check on a few things when you bring him back," Dr. Brightman said.

"Malin, guess who's coming over to see you tomorrow when you're home with us?" Mary said, tugging on his hair.

Malin raised his eyebrows, and for that moment, Sly remembered the same expression on Dr. Rush's face.

"I'll give you a hint," Mary said, like she was saying a riddle. "It's somebody you like a lot, that you haven't seen since you've been sick, and that's because this person just had a baby."

Malin bounced a little in Sly's arms and made the sign for doctor and then made his arms into a cradle and rocked them, his eyes questioning.

"That's right, Dr. Lam is coming over and she's bringing her new baby."

Malin made the sign for name and repeated the cradle motion.

"His name is Dylan Jonathan." Mary said. "He's named for John's grandfather and for John. Dr. Lam says if you sit down on the couch and don't wiggle, you can hold him."

Malin gave them a thumbs up. Sly wasn't sure who had taught him that, but he suspected Colonel Mitchell. And speaking of SG1...

He nudged Mary with a shoulder. "Hey, honey. I was thinking maybe we could have a barbecue this Saturday. SG1 should be back by then and I'd like to invite them, and Dr. Lam and her husband. Walter said that General O'Neill will be coming to the SGC on Friday to meet with General Landry. Maybe he'd have time to stay."

"Oh, I'd love to see Jack again. What about Sam? It's been ages since I've seen her, and if she can make it then this time, Sylvester Siler, don't let her spend all of her time out in the garage with you and the boys, working on that motorcycle of hers."

Sly felt a smile tugging at his lips. "Sweetheart, sergeants don't give orders to generals. If you want General Carter out of the garage, you're going to have to come and get her. But I'm not sure she'll be available this Saturday. I'll ask Walter if he's heard anything."

"Invite him, too. And General Landry."

Malin shook his head violently.

Mary tugged at Malin's hair again. "Yes. I know you haven't liked him in the past, but give him another chance, kiddo. He's Dr. Lam's daddy, you know."

Malin let out an enormously put upon sigh, but when Mary tugged his hair again, he nodded, then yawned.

"Time for you two to get down to Dr. Bill's lab," Mary said. "Malin, I'll see you tomorrow morning. I've got things to finish up in your room. Sly?"

"I'm going to sleep on base." One of them had stayed on base or in the infirmary with Malin since he'd fallen into the coma and recovered. Just in case.

Malin reached for Mary and she gave him another hug. "Good night, baby. Sleep well." Sly kissed her and Malin waved goodbye as Sly carried him out of the infirmary.

x x x

"Time's almost up, Dr. Lee," Sly reminded the scientist. He'd been watching the science types for well over a decade now, and he was very aware of how they could get so wrapped up in their work that the concepts of time and food and sleep were forgotten. General Carter and Dr. Jackson had been some of the worst offenders. Sometimes General O'Neill would march them off to the cafeteria and a bunk, other times he would just shake his head and cover them with a blanket when he found them passed out asleep over their desks.

"Oh, right. Let's do one more to add to the baseline, and then we'll try the bracelet again." Dr. Lee turned to Malin, who was sitting cross-legged on the top of a lab table. "Okay, this time, see if you can lift the two hundred pound weight up, and keep going till you're at the ceiling. Hold it there until you feel too tired, and then let it down gently. emGently/em."

Dr. Lee looked ruefully at Sly. "Have you seen the damage to the floor where he dropped the other weights?"

"No. I guess Mary was with him?" Sly glanced around the room but didn't see anything wrong.

"Ah, yes. I think so. Anyway, I was going to send in a damage report but since you're here anyway?" Dr. Lee was pretty hit or miss with his paperwork on non-science things. Sly wasn't surprised that he'd put off reporting this to Sly's department.

"I'll take a look while you finish up. Where is it?"

"Through the door." Dr. Lee turned his thumb towards the side door that connected this lab to the next room.

Sly tousled Malin's hair. "You've been a very good boy. Want to stop at the cafeteria when Dr. Bill is all done with you?"

Malin signed that he did, and that he wanted chocolate cake. Then he looked at Dr. Lee and signed book.

"I haven't forgotten. Here, I'll give it to your dad, okay? He can hold it for you." Dr. Lee walked over to a bookshelf and pulled out a paperback. He handed it over to Sly.

"What's this?" The book had an intriguing cover, a picture of a planet's repeating images.

"The Universe Next Door. It's got some interesting physics stuff. Can time run backwards, was our universe created by super intelligent aliens from another universe, things like that. I promised Malin that if he helped me out here, I would give it to him."

"It's not above his reading level?"

"No. Chown's writing for the layman, and he's got a knack for explaining things in understandable terms. Malin won't have any trouble. There's some talk that if the stargate program goes public, of maybe bringing Chown on board to explain what we've been doing since Jackson unlocked the gate." Dr. Lee picked up a pen and a clipboard.

"Okay. I bet Johnny would like to read this, too, Malin. Maybe when you're finished. Johnny, my oldest boy, is studying to be an astrophysicist. General Carter's his role model."

"Can't ask for a better one. Okay, Malin, go ahead. Lift the weight." Dr. Lee stuck his pen in his mouth, chewing on the cap.

The weight on the floor slowly started to rise as Malin scrunched up his face and pointed a clenched fist at it.

Sly tucked the book under his arm and quietly left the room for the adjoining lab. He shook his head when he saw the broken tiles and concrete. Sighing, he sat down at a terminal and called up a damage report and started filling it out, Malin's book on the desk.

Malin liked to read science books and would go to classes at Peterson Air Force Base once school started back up. Mary was planning on meeting with his teachers, to make sure he would be given work that wouldn't just bore him. For the summer, his older kids were going to watch Malin, when Mary was at work and he was on the base, although Peterson also had a daycare center.

Mary thought it would be best to let Malin get used to his new family and living in a real home before adding daycare or camp into his life. At least for a couple of weeks. See how he did, if the nightmares would stop, if he felt safe now that Marines wouldn't be guarding him anymore.

Colonel Sheppard had emailed him once the colonel had gone back to Atlantis, after Malin had recovered from the coma. He said that a member of his team had a boy about Malin's age, Torren, and that Teyla, his mother, had suggested that maybe Malin and his parents might like to meet on Atlantis or somewhere else, and let the boys play together. He'd written that Torren didn't get many chances to hang out with kids his own age, due to living on Atlantis.

Sly wasn't sure that using Asgard beaming technology to let a couple of six-year-olds have a play date was going to be approved, but if it was, he'd love to see Atlantis. Malin had never played with any kids his own size; it would be good for him.

He heard a loud thud from the other lab. It sounded like he needed to add another line or two to his damage report. He saved the document, and then went to check to see if that lab also had broken tiles.

He opened the door quietly and stopped with it just ajar. General Telford was standing in front of Malin, along with an airman carrying a shoulder bag.

"Hey, General. You're early for our meeting." Dr. Lee checked his watch. "I mean, you're right on time. You know, I could have just sent you the results. You didn't have to make a trip in person."

Sly could see that Malin was trembling.

He didn't trust General Telford; he stayed quiet, wanting to hear what the man would say.

"Oh, I really did, Doctor. Although this is playing out differently than what I had planned."

Dr. Lee shrugged. "Malin and I are done, anyway. I'm afraid you startled him when you beamed in here; he dropped the weight he was holding up with his telekinesis."

"Is that right, Rush?" General Telford asked, an edge to his tone, staring at Malin. "Did I startle you? Look hard at me. You know me, Rush. You know me. I can see it in your eyes."

"Rush? Sly didn't care for the General's tone or his words. He and Malin were leaving right now.

He stepped into the room, just as Dr. Lee locked the bracelet around Malin's arm.

"There you go. Time for that cake your dad promised you." Dr. Lee turned back to General Telford. "As my reports have stated, all preliminary tests show the bracelet is effective at stopping Malin's talents. He's going to wear it tonight in the infirmary, in case there's a problem. They're going to keep an eye on his vitals, and if everything goes okay – and it should, I mean, you have McKay, Carter, and me approving this thing – than Malin's going home tomorrow."

"There's been a change in plans. This documentation will explain it. You have a go, Drugov," Telford said, and the airman reached for Malin.

Malin rolled off the lab table and dashed towards the back of the room; Sly dropped the book he'd absent-mindedly picked up and in a few quick strides he reached him. Malin practically climbed up him and Sly hugged him, then whispered, "If I put you on the floor, then stay behind me. If I go down, run for the infirmary. Dr. Brightman can help."

It was clear to him that General Telford wanted Malin. He'd take him over Sly's dead body.

"General. With all due respect, sir." He spat out the word. "What do you want with my son."

Telford laughed harshly. "He's not your son. He'll never be your son, but I predict he'll tear your family apart. He can't change his nature, and he's poison."

"You didn't come here to stop me from adopting him. What do you want!" Sly rarely lost his temper. But anger was seething in him, but waiting for the right moment to explode out.

"It's vital to homeworld security that we decipher what Rush has been trying to tell us about why he returned here. Let me repeat that. It's absolutely vital that he tell us. He can't right now, with all of you people trying to steer him into a new life. He needs to remember his old life." Telford started edging around the lab table, the airman doing the same on the other side. Dr. Lee just stood there, bewildered.

Sly started backing towards the door to the other lab, Malin shaking in his arms. He needed to talk to Landry, to Jack. Telford couldn't legally just come in and take the boy. Sly was Malin's guardian ad litum.

Sly said, much more calmly than he felt, "I have the legal right to make decisions on his behalf. And he's staying here, with me and my wife. When he feels safe and secure, then maybe, maybe this supposed message will surface from his dreams. And if it never does, then that's fine. You can't place the weight of keeping our planet safe on the shoulders of a six-year-old boy."

"He's not a kid, not really. He's Rush. And I'm going to help him remember that. He'll be sent back afterwards, and you can keep him then. If you still want him," Telford said, with a careless shrug. The expression on his face was... Like Malin was something unclean that nobody would ever want to touch.

The son-of-a-bitch had hated Rush, Sly realized. Oh, God, Malin. He couldn't let Telford have his boy.

"Dr. Lee, call security, call Landry," he said urgently. He hadn't been on duty so he wasn't carrying his radio. Lee was just standing there looking from one group to the other.

"You can, Dr. Lee." Telford said, and held up a large brown envelope stamped classified in big red letters, then tossed it onto a computer station. "It won't matter. I have authorization from the IOA to take Rush with me. Stand down, Sergeant. You're no longer his guardian. I am. He's now strictly under IOA authority, not the military's, and the president has signed off on this. As the liaison to Destiny, this falls under my jurisdiction."

"O'Neill didn't sign off on it." Sly knew down to his boots that Jack would never do such a thing.

"True. He'll be getting a report in the morning about the change. He can't remove me from the project, though. He can't help you, Sergeant."

He and the airman moved closer. Sly opened the door to the other lab and put Malin down. He said, very quietly, "Malin, when I tell you to, run. Run like the wind to Dr. Brightman. Tell her what happened here."

The ranking medical officer could overturn Telford's authority to take Malin, if she deemed it medically necessary for him to remain on the base. It wouldn't work for long, but it could give him time to call Jack, and General Landry.

He wished he could take off the bracelet, so Malin could defend himself, but Dr. Lee hadn't given him the code yet. Right now, Lee was the only one who knew it.

"Sergeant, I'm ordering you to turn over Rush. Step aside, or face charges," Telford ordered, his dark eyes narrowing.

"Dr. Lee, what's the code?" Sly shouted, grabbing Malin's wrist and turning the bracelet so its tiny line of numbers was accessible.

"Don't answer that, Lee, or you'll be facing charges as well," Telford bellowed.

Dr. Lee threw up his hands. "I'm calling Landry. Let him sort this out." Sly dropped Malin's arm. Lee wasn't going to help him.

"We're done here. Last chance, Sergeant. Stand aside."

In for a penny, in for a pound, thought Sly wildly. "Not a chance in hell, you flaming asshole. You want my son, you're going to have to go through me." Heart pounding, he said urgently, "Run." Malin dashed through the door and Sly shut it with a foot and advanced on Telford and his accomplice.

"Drugov," Telford snapped. The airmen stopped coming towards him and changed direction towards the door to the hallway, dropping his bag. Sly went after him. Malin was a fast runner, but he'd been tired before they'd come down here, and Dr. Lee had run tests with him for an hour; using his telekinesis wore him out. He had to give Malin a chance to get away.

He reached Drugov as he was opening the door and he pulled him back and punched him hard in the face. The man staggered back, and Sly spun and kicked him with a maneuver that Teal'c had shown him.

He could feel adrenaline flooding his body; all his senses were sharp, his breathing harsh in his ears.

He repeated the kick and Drugov went down.

He turned in time to fend off the steel pipe Telford was swinging at his ribs, grabbing it and pulling it toward him, unbalancing Telford. He yanked hard and Telford let go of it.

Sly threw it across the room, causing Lee to yelp as Sly heard it break something made of glass.

He faced Telford. On the floor, Drugov groaned and got to his knees.

Sly kept himself between the two men and the door. Telford hissed, "Give it up. Lee's gonna call for help and you're not doing yourself any favors. Stand aside, and we'll forget about this."

"Go to hell." Every second that he kept them away from the door was more time for Malin to get to the infirmary.

Drugov staggered to his feet.

"Get the kid," Telford ordered, and then Sly was fighting both of them off, spinning, kicking, dodging, landing blows and feeling blows against his body.

Feeling them, but not pain. Not yet.

He was panting, sweat pouring from his body.

Drugov came at him and he used another one of Teal'c's moves, using the man's momentum against him to slam him into a wall. Drugov slid down but Telford was on Sly now, and they crashed into a table.

Things started blurring, fists and grunts and blows to the head, and he saw Drugov stagger out the door.

Telford was bleeding from the mouth, and he just kept hitting the bastard, because he had to. He had to, he had to, he had to.

He had to put Telford down and go after Drugov.

Telford got in a solid body blow, and Sly staggered backwards.

He couldn't breathe.

His head snapped backwards from the force of a blow.

Telford spat blood on the floor and Sly regained his balance and kicked out at him.

Telford dodged and slammed into Sly, pushing both of them into a row of humming equipment. Sparks showered around them; he got on his hands and knees and staggered upright and saw Telford crouching, attempting to get to his feet.

He launched himself and took Telford down, knocking them against the equipment again.

His head cracked against something, dazing him. He was on his knees.

Telford kicked him in his ribs, but he caught the other man's foot on the next kick and twisted Telford's leg, shoving him up and away.

He'd barely made it back to his feet before Telford came at him again, furious, blood drooling from his mouth, and body slammed Sly back into the equipment. It teetered, unsteady, the hum it made increasing to a loud whine.

Telford broke free of Sly's grip, pulled him forward, then shoved him hard.

He crashed into the equipment, landing on his back.

Sparks, recognizing a broken power line that was close, too god damn close; glancing up to see an avalanche of metal coming down on him.

White-hot pain incinerated him, arching his body.

He couldn't hold on, not to Mary, not to his kids.

Not to anything.

x x x

"Ah, fuck," David shouted. "Lee, cut the god damned power."

Lee scurried out of a back corner and to a panel on the wall nearest to where Siler was trapped under the machine that had fallen over him.

He could see the man's hand twitching, but he knew, he knew Siler had to have been badly shocked. This was bad. His simple extraction was a cluster fuck now. He hadn't wanted to hurt Siler; the man was a good airman.

This was Rush's fault.

Drugov strode into the room, Rush over his shoulder, struggling. "Sir! I have- Ah, shit."

"It's cut, It's cut. I'll call the infirmary," Lee babbled.

"Put him down and let's get this thing off Siler," David barked at Drugov and grasped the edge of metal, while Drugov dropped Rush on the floor. He was betting that Rush wasn't going to run off again, not with Siler like this.

He flashed a look at Rush, took in the tears and the hitching breath, the horrified look on his face. Then Drugov was there and together they started to lift.

They only got it about six inches up before having to ease it back down.

"We need help. Lee, did you call security?" He turned his attention to the room, looking for anything that they could use to lever this dead weight off Siler. Maybe that pipe he'd swung at him..

"No, I couldn't before, you cut me off from the phone with all your fighting. I'll call now, but Malin can help."

David spun around and saw that Lee was sliding the bracelet off Rush.

Rush reached both hands out, clenched hard, and the machinery trapping Siler started to rise.

Drugov grabbed it, and David joined him, adding their strength and guiding the equipment up.

Lee's hands appeared next to his, "Holy Christ. This has got to be about ten times heavier than anything Malin's lifted before. Security and the medics are on their way."

"Drugov's a medic." David had brought him along in case Rush had to be sedated.

He turned to check on Rush. His eyes were closed and there was such an intense look of concentration on his face.

"Keep going, Malin. You're doing it," Lee shouted.

The machinery felt light now, like it was made of cardboard and the three of them maneuvered it so that it was back in its original position.

Siler was sprawled out, unconscious, blood drenching the leg of his ripped coveralls.

Drugov dropped to his knees and placed his ear over Siler's mouth.

"He's not breathing. Starting chest compressions." He locked his hands together over Siler's sternum and started a rocking rhythm of pushing down on the man's chest.

Rush fell down next to Siler. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, and he was shaking. He held his hands out right next to Drugov's and David saw him close his eyes.

A soft golden light flowed from Rush's outstretched fingers and seemed to sink down into Siler.

Drugov pulled his hands away.

Siler inhaled, his eyelids fluttering.

Rush moved his hands to the wound on Siler's leg and again, the light flowed down. Drugov took hold of the fabric near where the blood was originating and ripped it.

David watched, fascinated, as the edges of the deep cut knitted themselves back together.

"Rush," Telford said, but he didn't know why. He knelt down next to him. Rush glanced up at him, the pupils in his dark eyes blown, and a look of desolation on his face as he just stared at Telford.

Then he reached one hand up to Telford's face, to the cut that was streaming blood from above his eyebrow and touched it.

There was a warmth that lingered there after Rush moved his hand and touched David's split lip and he felt the same warmth again.

David touched his head, his lip. The headache he hadn't realized he'd had till now was gone.

Rush gave him a small nod, a look of regret and sorrow still on his face.

Was that expression for him? Or were Rush's emotions for Siler playing out on his face.

Rush turned back to Siler, who was starting to stir, his arms and legs shifting. Rush touched Siler's head for a long moment, then looked at Lee, and gave a thumbs up. Then he fell over onto Siler, his eyes closing.

Siler's arm curled around Rush, but his eyes didn't open.

"Drugov, check Rush," David ordered, standing up. "Lee, I want the bracelet and the master control."

Lee just stood there, looking bemused. "Now, Dr. Lee," David shouted.

Any moment now, there was going to be a horde of security and medics in here.

Lee jumped like somebody had goosed him.

"You can't mean to take him now. He probably needs to be back in the infirmary," Lee protested.

"Get it, he'll be monitored for any problems." David glared at him. "Now, Dr. Lee. You don't want to cross me."

Lee shook his head but walked rapidly to a lab table and grabbed the bracelet and the small box-shaped device that could alter the code and track the wearer of the bracelet. He handed it to David, his mouth a tight line on his normally cheerful face.

Drugov said, "The kid's pulse is fairly slow, but he responds to stimuli, sir. He can be transported, but I think I should stay with this man till the medics come."

"Agreed. I'll see you back at the safe house."

David slid the master control into a pocket, and locked the bracelet around Rush's arm.

His wrist was so small, so fragile.

He pulled Rush away from Siler's unconscious grasp and held him face down on David's shoulder. His small body felt lax against David's chest. Christ, he didn't weigh hardly anything.

He contacted the Lindbergh and was beamed out as security entered the room, weapons drawn.

x x x

David laid Rush down on the bed in his new room. He was still out cold, deeply asleep. The medic at the safe house was busy getting things ready to attach the dream monitoring device to Rush's temple.

He hesitated, not wanting to handle Rush, but it would send the wrong message to his team if they saw him reluctant to be hands on with Rush.

So he didn't like touching him. He did a lot of things he didn't particularly like doing, if it meant keeping the people of this world safe.

He untied Rush's shoes, put them under the bed and pulled off his jeans. He unzipped the red sweatshirt and stripped it and the dinosaur T-shirt Rush was wearing off, leaving him in just his underwear.

A dinosaur T-shirt, for Christ's sake. Rush wouldn't be wearing anything that was in slightest way cute, or childish while he was here. There would not be any fairy tale books, no, and the only thing that could be considered a toy that David would allow were the Legos. They'd proven useful. The room was supplied with art supplies, paints, modeling clay, play-do, crayons, pencils and magic markers and paper. Drawing the Nakai had been an outlet for his returning memories before. Hopefully, it would still be.

He pulled down the blankets and quilt, freeing them from under Rush's body and then covered him up. In no way was he conceding that he was tucking Rush into bed.

Rush was breathing slowly, and his face was tear-stained. He looked innocent. What a disguise.

Why had Rush healed him? He couldn't get the look that had been on Rush's face out of his mind. Did he remember how David's double had died, electrocuted on the doomed Destiny?

Had Rush caused it?

Rush couldn't take him in a fight. Everett had said that it was due to an accident that his double had died, falling into dangerous equipment the crew was dismantling to take back to Destiny. That was plausible since explosions had rocked the ship, but he knew it wasn't the truth. He'd seen that much on the face of the Rush who had survived. He didn't think Everett believed Rush, either.

Corporal West pushed the monitoring equipment close to the bed.

"It's all ready to go, sir," she said. She walked around the bed and said, "I'm going to take his vitals again, and then we can go ahead. I'll numb his skin before I attach the device."

"No need. He's really out of it. He won't feel it," David said.

"No sir. If I don't it might bother him when he wakes up." She reached a hand down and swept Rush's hair out of his eyes.

She stroked fingers through Rush's hair, and David shook his head. "No. Stop that."

West looked at him, puzzled.

David grated out, annoyed, "I'm ordering you and everyone who comes in contact with Rush to not treat him like the child he appears to be. Would you be doing that if he looked his actual age, which is, I don't know, in his forties."

"Knowing he's had a rough evening, yes, sir, I would. I believe that touch can be healing."

David sighed, wondering how he'd missed this attitude when he was screening for his team. "Well, thank you for being honest. When Drugov gets here, you're dismissed, Corporal. I'm taking you off this project. You don't have the right attitude to get the job done."

"Sir?" She looked surprised.

"No, West. Next thing I know you'd have him in your lap, cuddling him out of nightmares. I'm sure you're an excellent medic, but you're not the right fit for this assignment. This is not a reprimand. But you're out, Corporal."

She looked at him firmly. "Yes, sir. But I read the mission briefing. The IOA insists on medical personal monitoring any procedures. It's my medical opinion that a numbing gel is needed on this person's temple, and I'm the ranking medical officer, sir. You can't overrule me."

He held his hands out, conceding her point.

Rush hadn't been here more than fifteen minutes, and he was already causing dissension within his team.

The man had always had a gift for being difficult, and being ascended and then retaking human form hadn't changed that, apparently.

He watched as West checked Rush's blood pressure and pulse, took his temperature. She numbed Rush's skin, and then inserted the device. A flinch crossed Rush's face and then his face smoothed out again.

West looked at the readings on the side of the monitor. "He's probably going to go into REM stage soon. We should see something then."

"You are recording all of this?"

"Yes, sir." She pulled up a chair and sat down next to Rush's bed.

"If he wakes up from a nightmare, do not soothe him out of it. Question him about it."

"I'll do what I think is called for from a medical point of view, sir," she said politely but with steel in her tone. Her freckled face was pleasant rather than pretty, her blond hair braided and pinned. She seemed more like a small town girl, not a trained soldier and medic, but she looked straight at him, unafraid of his rank.

He'd chosen West because she knew sign language and was an excellent medic. She reminded him of Lt. Johansen at the moment, though, and that woman had always been a pain in the ass to him on his visits to Destiny.

"I'll be in the kitchen, call me if you see anything that could be one of his former memories." He walked away, a headache starting to unfurl.

He needed a couple of shots of whiskey, but he'd settle for coffee.

x x x

David grabbed the arm pushing against his shoulder, prepared to twist it, to defend himself.

"Sir, it's Drugov. Wake up."

Not an enemy. He let go.

"Next time, stand back and just call my name. I could have broken your neck." He turned on the bedside light, resting his weight on his elbow.

"I apologize, sir. You've been in some tight spots, then?" Drugov sounded curious. He sounded... young. Probably hadn't seen much action.

He got out of bed. "Yes. And it's mostly classified, and what isn't I don't want to talk about. Are we clear, Airman?"

"Yes, sir. There's some footage of Rush's last dream you should see. It's... it's pretty bad."

"Is he awake?"

"Not now. He woke up scared. I helped him to the bathroom, but he was still mostly asleep. He tried to curl up on the floor so I picked him up and put him back to bed. He's asleep again."

Drugov was looking guilty. "You patted him on the back or something, didn't you, Airman?"

"Ah, yes, sir, I did. He started crying after he sat up." Drugov looked a little defiant.

God damn it.

"Do it again, treat him like a child, and you're off the team. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. But I probably would have done the same thing if he was an adult," Drugov said, a slightly challenging tone to his voice. David would make him toe the line or he'd be off the team, too.

"Hand him a tissue instead. I guarantee you that nobody would have patted Rush on the back when he was full size, if he was crying about something."

"That's kind of sad, sir."

"Do not get attached to Rush, Drugov. It won't end well for you if you do."

"Yes, sir." But he sounded uncertain, rubbing the back of his strong neck, finding something fascinating about the floor for the moment.

"Show me what you've got," David said, pulling on his pants and zipping up his uniform shirt, lacing up his boots.

He asked, as they went to the room designated for analysis of the recordings, "Did you ask him about his dream?"

"He wasn't awake enough, sir."

He sat down at the monitor. The screen was frozen on a scene of fire enveloping a room that he knew very well.

He hit the space bar and sparks exploded everywhere on the screen. The fire licked the walls, growing stronger. An explosion knocked Rush – he guessed it was Rush, everything was from the point of view of the dreamer - to his hands and knees. Rush staggered back to his feet, wiping tears off his face with both hands, leaving his palms wet. He made his way to the console and stood there, staring at the neural interface chair. Sparks showered down from the ceiling, the room grew brighter as the fire increased.

Rush stood frozen like that for some time until something caused him to look towards the door.

The dream changed then to Rush running hell-bent through the ship's corridors, dodging pieces of the wall as explosions ruined the ship, leaping over broken power conduits spraying out sparks like a hose watering a garden. Fire was everywhere.

Then the dream shifted again, to what had happened today, to seeing Siler buried under the fallen machinery. He saw Rush's two small hands clenched in front of him, saw the equipment lifting off Siler's still body.

It ended there.

This could certainly be Rush's memories from when the earlier time-line Destiny had been destroyed. But both Rushs had been on that ship, and this memory-dream could have been either one's.

Rush had contemplated using the neural interface chair, that much was evident.

Dr. Franklin had been taken into the ship's CPU, transformed into code, his body destroyed, or the chair had helped him to ascend and he chose to remain with the ship. Or something like that. The Rush who stayed on Destiny when it was falling into the star could have sat in the chair and been ascended. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe something else, someone else had ascended him. Maybe what David had seen on that screen had happened when the stasis pods had failed, waking up their occupants.

It was all very strange and weird, but he could believe it. Look at all the shit that had happened to Jackson and O'Neill.

He checked the time. He'd leave for the Pentagon and Homeworld Command soon. He'd have to do some damage control with O'Neill, and then he would go to the communication lab. He would hold an oval stone in his hand for a moment, and then place it on the base.

Then he would wait.

His team had their orders for the day concerning Rush. There were as many photographs of Rush's life as they could find for Rush to look at, there was the music that his wife had played as a violinist that would be broadcast, and whiteboards covered the walls in most rooms, waiting for Rush to cover them with his math.

He closed the file and left the room to get cleaned up.

Rush was still asleep when he finished, and David walked over to his bed and looked down at him. He was on his side, one hand starfished close to his mouth.

Quit hiding in that kid's body and come out, you son-of-a-bitch. Tell me what you came back to say, he thought.

Then he left him and went to find out Destiny's fate.

x x x