Daniel woke up, his head oddly fuzzy and fear coming up in his throat to choke him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't think, and couldn't manage to even call for help. Why was he so afraid? He felt tears sting his eyes and spill over, streaking down his face and soaking the hair at his temples. What was wrong with him? He felt himself start to shake, and that reaction allowed him to take a breath. The breath turned into a scream.

"Daniel?" he heard. "Daniel, son, it's all right. I'm right here."

"What's wrong with me?" he gasped. "What is it?"

"You've been ill," the older man said. "You'll be just fine in a little while."

As he spoke, the old man sat down beside Daniel and wrapped his arms around him, trying to soothe him. As soon as the man touched him, Daniel felt the fear abate and his breathing ease.

Daniel felt relief flood through him, and looked around. He was in what looked like an infirmary, he was in bed, and the man with him…he looked up at him, trying to place him. He knew this man, but what was his name?

"Is that better?" the man asked, looking down at him. "You're not so frightened now, are you?"

Daniel shook his head. "No." He studied the man who held him and felt a name come to mind. "Pater?"

"Yes?"

"Your name is Pater?"

"Yes."

"Why was I so afraid?" Daniel asked, feeling a sense of urgency. Some vague feeling inside told him that he was not usually so afraid and that something had happened to cause the fear. Something…something…to do with…this man?

"Perhaps a nightmare?" Pater suggested. "When you're ill you can sometimes have odd dreams."

"I don't think so," Daniel managed to say. "I wasn't afraid until I woke up."

Pater smoothed his hair with one hand while he held him. "I don't know, Daniel."

"How do you know my name?" Daniel asked, beginning to feel very confused. He had a strong feeling that he should know this man and the place where they were, but so far, all that he could remember was this sense of things being wrong.

"You're my son, Daniel."

Daniel looked up and stared at him. "I don't think so. My parents died when I was little."

"Can't orphans be adopted?"

He nodded. "My grandfather didn't release me for adoption, though. Besides, I'm fully grown. I'm an adult."

"Adults can be adopted."

Something was wrong here, but he couldn't figure out what it was. "And you adopted me? I agreed to it?"

"You said you wanted a family, and we were happy to have you."

"We?"

"I have other children, Daniel. They're your brothers and sisters now."

Daniel shook his head. "This…this is confusing."

"Well, you've been ill for several days," Pater reminded him. "It will take a while for you to feel better." Pater stopped and appeared to listen. "Sylvia? You can come in, now. No sense hiding out there."

The door opened, and a woman walked in. For the first time, Daniel felt the slightest sense of recognition.

"Daniel, this is Sylvia. You and she are close friends."

From the way he was feeling, he had a hunch that they were very close. Why, though, did he feel that her name wasn't Sylvia? Why did he feel as if he knew her by a different name? Most strange of all, why didn't he feel he could trust her?

"How are you feeling, Daniel?" she asked, coming to sit on the other side of him.

"Better, I think," Daniel said truthfully as Sylvia took his hand. As Pater took his other hand he felt well-being and peace rush through him, and he relaxed.

"You're tired," Pater said, rubbing his back. "This illness has exhausted you. You'll have to spend a little more time here in the infirmary, but you'll be better soon. I promise you that."

Daniel felt Pater move away from him and settle him back into the pillows behind him, and he was more than happy to settle back. He felt sleepy and relaxed now, as opposed to how he'd felt earlier. His eyes closed, and he lay there, half asleep and half awake.

"Is he sleeping?" he heard Sylvia say.

"Yes," Pater answered. "He's asleep."

"Do you think he believed us?"

"I'm fairly certain he believed us. All we need to do over the next few days is to keep telling him what we told him today, and then we allow him to come back to himself completely. He won't remember the time that we kept him in this state, but when we begin to tell him things, he'll be much more suggestible to what we tell him. He'll accept things much more easily than he has up until now."

He heard Sylvia sigh. "That's good. If he accepts things, he'll stay."

"Yes, he will. In a few more weeks we'll all be in Europe, and his friends won't be able to find him and interrupt our lives again. Everything will work out, love. You'll see."

"Thank you, Pater."

"My pleasure, my dear. Not only do I get to make my daughter happy, I gain a son. Now, I know a certain young lady that has to redecorate a room so it will be ready for a future roommate. Would she like some help from a certain father?"

"Yes, she would," Sylvia said, sounding amused. "What do you think Daniel would like?"

"Books. Lots and lots of books," Pater answered as Daniel heard them both rise. "And possibly some things to do with Egypt or ancient cultures. Did you already buy everything?"

"Perhaps I should show you what I have?"

After that, Daniel was sure they'd left the infirmary. He lay in his bed, fighting to open his eyes. From what he'd heard, then Pater and Sylvia weren't his family. He wasn't supposed to be with them. How had they messed with his head like this? Had they messed with his head? From what he'd heard, he could draw no other conclusion. Why couldn't he remember anything from before waking up?

Friends. Friends.

He remembered Pater mentioning friends. Friends who were looking for him? Friends who knew him? Had they found him once already, only to have Pater hide him again? That had to be it.

Who were his friends?

He fought to sit up, to open his eyes, to make some noise, anything, but he couldn't move. His body wouldn't obey him. His muscles stayed slack, his eyes remained closed, and his breathing stayed regular. To any outside observers, he would appear asleep, even though he really wasn't. What perplexed him the most was why Pater hadn't been able to tell he was actually awake.

He had no idea how long he lay there before the ability to move came back. He shifted, managing to roll over onto his side and open his eyes. It took longer to sit up, but he managed it after a few minutes. He was just thinking about getting to his feet when the door opened. In the doorway stood a man not much older than he was, with blond hair, glasses, and troubled eyes. "Daniel?"

Daniel looked at him. Could this be one of his friends? "Who are you?"

"I thought you might not remember me," the man said. "You've known me since you came here."

Daniel blinked, surprised. "Since I came here? How long have I been here?"

"A couple of months, give or take a few days."

"I don't remember that. I don't remember anything like that!"

"I know," he said, coming into the room and closing the door.

"Who are you?"

"My name's Carlisle. You and I would play chess or cards sometime, and we'd talk."

"Why can't I remember anything?"

"Because Pater's been messing with your head," Carlisle said, coming closer and sitting down in a chair. "He does that with anyone who doesn't settle down after a few weeks. As time went by, you got worse instead of better, so he did something to your head. I don't know how he does it or how he even can—it seems impossible, but he does it."

"How do you know?" Daniel asked, feeling very frightened.

"Because I've seen him do it to other people. He's done it to Carl, to Caro, to Greg, and a couple of others. He doesn't do brainwashing, really. It's more like he…I don't know. Partially reformats their brains?"

Daniel stared at Carlisle.

"I think he takes memories he finds inconvenient for you to have and somehow locks them away," Carlisle clarified.

"What makes you think that?"

"Because I know who I am," Carlisle said. "I know my name. Carlisle. I know that I grew up with only an old grandfather taking care of me, but I can't remember what his name was, what he looked like, or where I grew up. I knew I went to college and worked somewhere when I got older, but I can't remember which school I attended or where I worked. I can't remember where I lived. I can remember that at one time I had a wife, but I don't know what her name was, what she looked like, or if she's alive or dead. I can't even remember my last name."

"He did this to you, too?" Daniel said.

"I can't think of any other reason why I would forget everything," Carlisle admitted.

Daniel thought about what Carlisle had told him. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because you're the only one whose friends have come close to finding you. Pater has too many early-warning systems set up for your friends to come here in time to help you, but you could go to them, and maybe, your friends would be willing to help the rest of us find out who we are."

"Do you know who my friends are? What my name is? I can't remember."

Carlisle nodded. "Your name is Daniel Jackson. Their names are Colonel Jack O'Neill, Major Samantha Carter, and Teal'c. They all work at the Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Base, in Colorado Springs, Colorado. If you can get away you can find the police. I'm sure your friends would have sent out bulletins about you to all of the police departments they could."

"How can I get away?" Daniel asked urgently. He'd felt a sense of familiarity when he'd heard those names, and that familiarity made him even more anxious.

"There's a garage at the end of this hall and down one level," Carlisle said. "Can you walk?"

"I haven't tried yet," Daniel said truthfully. He got to his feet and managed a few steps. "Yes, I can."

"I'll walk with you," Carlisle said. "Come on, we don't have much time before someone else comes to check on you."

Carlisle led him out of the infirmary and down the hall, being very careful to stay quiet.

"Why don't you just come with me?" Daniel asked as they reached the end of the hall and started down in the elevator.

"Pater would suspect something immediately if I wasn't around. I started asking questions that bothered him, and he's been watching me since then. He won't think to look for you outside of the infirmary and I can create a distraction while you get away."

"What if Pater decides to run and takes you with him?" By this time they were in the garage and Carlisle led him to a car.

"Do you think you can drive?" Carlisle asked as he unlocked the door.

"I think so," Daniel said, trying to remember when he'd driven. "At least, I'm fairly certain I can. But why don't you come with me?"

"Because I have a plan," Carlisle said, helping him to sit down. "This will distract Pater long enough so he stays where he is until your friends can send the police. Once the police arrest Pater, we'll be safe from him, and the police can help us figure out who we are."

"I hope this plan of yours works," Daniel said as Carlisle put the keys into the ignition. "Whose car is this?"

"Pater's," Carlisle said truthfully. "Now, after I leave the garage, count to two hundred before driving out. As you drive toward the door it will open automatically, the same with the gate leading to the road. Turn to the right, and that will take you to the nearest town and police station." Carlisle turned away, as if he were ready to leave, but Daniel stopped him.

"Carlisle, why are you doing this now? Why didn't you do this sooner?"

"Because since you came you've made me think," Carlisle said. "I'm tired of not knowing who I am. I want my life back."

Daniel nodded. "Good enough. Good luck."

"Same to you."

Carlisle left, and Daniel began to count. Once he reached two hundred he turned the key to make the car rumble to life. He moved the stick to D and hit the gas, and just as Carlisle said, the garage door opened. The sunlight blinded him momentarily, but he recovered and sped down the driveway toward the gate. It opened and he sped right, hoping that the town wasn't too far away.

--

Police Chief Charlie Camden sat in his police car and swore under his breath. He'd just gotten a call from dispatch that the US Air Force was on its way into town over that call he'd made about the missing woman he thought he'd seen at the supermarket. He just wasn't used to much happening. Occasionally he'd be called about some vandalism by the local kids or for a very rare disturbance of some kind, but he was sure that most of the people in town were law-abiding folk who never made waves or even went over the speed limit. That was why, when the Mercedes rushed past his car and the radar said nearly eighty miles an hour, he nearly swerved off the road in surprise. Cursing, he switched on his lights and siren and rushed after the car, praying that he could get it to stop before it went rushing down Main Street.

Almost as soon as the siren started, however, the car pulled over. Thank God for small miracles.

He pulled up behind the car, got out, and approached, just as he'd been trained to do. There was a man sitting inside the car with his hands on the wheel, but there were no passengers.

"Sir, do you know how fast you were going?" Charlie asked, hoping that the man would be cooperative.

"Um, about eighty, right?"

"Eighty in a forty-five mile-per-hour zone," he confirmed. "Now, why were you speeding?"

"I was trying to get your attention."

Sometimes, Charlie reflected, a person could be a little too honest. "Okay, you've got it. Why do you want it?"

"Take me to the station," the man said, sounding very wound up. "Please."

"I don't need to do that," Charlie said. "I can see you're from out of town, so I was just going to let you off with a warning, really."

"No!" the man insisted. "I want to go to the station!"

"Why?"

"Because it would be safer there than it would be out here," the man said.

Charlie blinked. This was definitely an eleven on his weirdness meter. "Safer?"

"Yes, much safer," the man agreed.

Charlie fought to remember if he'd received a bulletin about any patients escaped from county mental health. "Could I see your license and registration?"

"I don't have either one," the man said.

"Aren't they supposed to be kept in the glove compartment?"

"Well, I stole this car, you see, and I don't know if they would be in there or not. Besides, they wouldn't be mine, would they?"

The whole situation just kept getting worse. "All right, get out of the car," Charlie said, stepping back. "Put your hands on the car and spread your feet."

He did so, and Charlie got yet another shock. The man was wearing pajamas and he was barefoot. Yep, he'd definitely have to call county mental health about this one. Charlie patted him down, handcuffed him as a precaution, read him his rights just in case a crime had been committed, and put the man in the back of the car. He grabbed the keys to the Mercedes, locked it up, and took his own seat in front of the cruiser before calling dispatch to advise them he was bringing someone in. He would run the car's plate from the office after he took care of this guy. He didn't like this guy being out on the streets.

"Roger that," dispatch said. "Be advised that the Air Force has just arrived."

Charlie groaned and laid his head on the steering wheel. When misfortunes came, they never came alone. What else could go wrong today?

"Are we going to the station now?" the man asked.

"Yes," Charlie groaned. "Now be quiet. I've got a headache."

It didn't take long to get to the station, and once they got there Charlie felt his jaw drop open in shock. The place looked like a combat zone with vehicles and all the people dressed in military black running around, toting semi-automatics and wearing helmets and ammunition bandoliers. All that apparatus looked a little much for just a "short reconnaissance" that the AF rep had claimed they were going to make. Someone from the station was talking to an older man holding a P-90 and a deadly expression, and when he saw Charlie he pointed.

"Thanks," the man said, turning toward Charlie. "Chief Camden?"

"Yes?" Charlie said, wondering if World War Three were about to break out.

"I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill, and I'll be leading this operation."

"Oh, good." He didn't know what else to say to that.

"You're probably wondering why we've descended en masse on you like this, so I'll be brief," the colonel continued. "One of our people from the base disappeared while in the company of that woman you identified for us, and we have a strong reason to believe that he may still be with her against his will. He's very important to the country, as you might have guessed. Can you tell me if you've seen this man?"

Charlie took the picture he held and stared at it. This guy was important to the country? "Yes, I've seen him. Pulled him over for speeding. He's in the back of the cruiser."

Colonel O'Neill looked past him and stared at the cruiser. In the next moment, the stern colonel was gone. "DANNY-BOY!"

The shouted exclamation caused two women, one man, and a giant to whip around. They moved past Charlie in a stampede, but the giant stopped long enough to insist that the door of the cruiser be unlocked. Charlie did so, and the colonel pulled the man out, hugging him. While the man's friends converged, Charlie wrestled the handcuffs off him and let his friends surround him, feeling relieved. They could deal with this man and whatever was wrong with him.

--

Daniel felt as if his mind suddenly expanded to five times its size. Each face he saw helped him remember things, and those things led to more memories, and those memories helped him remember more. He could remember everything--his family, losing his parents, going to college, working at Cheyenne Mountain, going through the Gate, meeting Sha're, joining the SGC, his travels through the Stargate, his kidnapping and captivity--everything.

He didn't have long to reflect on this. In the next moment, he was being hugged by everyone. General Hammond, Janet, Jack, Sam, and Teal'c were alternately hugging and crushing him.

"How did you guys find me?" he gasped, fighting for air after all those hugs.

"Your journal," Sam explained. "Those sketches. Someone saw Christy and called us."

"I'll have to thank whoever it was."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he knows you're grateful," Jack said, watching Chief Camden edge away from the reunion. The poor guy looked like someone with shell-shock. The arrival of the Air Force and national security issues en masse seemed to have been a bit much for him.

"Listen, we have to go to Pater's house," Daniel said as Jack draped a jacket around his shoulders and Sam handed him a pair of sneakers to put on. He hid his annoyance as Janet started to look him over. This was important, and he didn't have time for a medical exam.

"Why?" Jack deadpanned.

Daniel stared at him. "Why? Well, he is keeping people brainwashed and prisoner. There's that to start with. Besides, Carlisle asked me to make sure the police knew about Pater and he's hoping they could help him and everyone else find their families. We can't leave them there."

"I was joking, Daniel," Jack said, giving Daniel a one-armed hug. "Of course we're going to help them out. You can go join that pilot in that chopper over there. We'll handle it from here."

"I know you guys are feeling protective right now, especially considering you just got me back, but I feel I have to go, too," Daniel said stubbornly.

Jack turned to Hammond. "General."

"I'm not inclined to forbid Dr. Jackson going, but then again, I don't think I can. He's a civilian, after all."

"You're not supposed to remind him of that, sir," Jack said quickly before turning to the only other authority he could bring to bear on Daniel. "Doc?" Even the Marines respected Janet Frasier and more than one man seemed afraid of her.

"I agree with the colonel," Janet said. "However, I think it would be beneficial for you mentally if you're able to give yourself some kind of closure on this."

"You're supposed to be on my side, Doc," Jack hissed.

"I'm on Daniel's side for the time being. When it's your health in concern, then I'll be on yours."

"All right, folks," Jack said, sighing. "To Oz."

They piled into a van, and Daniel was handed a zat by Teal'c, who said, "Just in case." Daniel thanked him, and settled back to wait while the driver in the front of the van followed his directions to the house. They were halfway there when Jack spotted a plume of dark smoke rising, and he ordered the drivers in the convoy to hurry up. They pulled up to the house in time to see it ablaze and the front doors open. People came pouring out, coughing and choking, begrimed by smoke. Daniel looked over them quickly and was able to verify for Jack that everyone was there.

SFs handled the arrests so quickly that Daniel had to admire their efficiency, but the only person giving them any real trouble was Pater. Six men were fighting to subdue him, and Daniel rushed forward.

"Back away from him!" he shouted, holding up the zat.

"Daniel!" Jack said, suddenly worried that his friend was about to do something that he would hate himself for later.

The SFs backed away, Daniel fired the zat, and Pater dropped like a stone. To Jack's great relief, Daniel put the zat away. "That felt good."

"I'm sure it did," Jack said as the SFs began to hustle people into the vans.

"Daniel!" they heard, and a woman pulled away from the SF holding her. "How could you shoot Pater?!"

"He's just knocked out," Daniel assured her. "Get in the van, Sylvia."

Sam looked at the woman. "Isn't that Christy? I recognize her from your drawing."

"Her real name's Sylvia. She was a plant, and I was stupid enough to fall for her."

"Don't worry about it," Jack said quickly. "Let's close this place off and get out of here." He looked up at the flaming walls. "Well, what's left of it."

"There won't be much," Daniel said. "Especially once the garage is hit."

Jack put two and two together so quickly he could have been a wunderkind. "Let's get outta here! Jeez, Danny, why didn't you say so before?"

It took only two minutes and twenty-four seconds for everyone to get in the vans and pull out. The fire department arrived, were advised about the garage, and then left to do what they did best. In their van, the members of SG-1 sat together, but it wasn't until they were in the chopper and heading home that Daniel relaxed. He stretched out in his seat, slumped in the harness, and let himself go to sleep. SG-1, General Hammond, and Janet Frasier made sure the chopper stayed as quiet as it could be by shushing anyone who made a noise. They did not have to do it often since everyone liked Dr. Jackson. That was a good thing, and more than once during the ride SG-1 could be caught sneaking glances at their newly-rescued archeologist.