Chapter 35

"For the millionth time, I'm absolutely fine!"

"And for the millionth and first time, I'm telling you you're not!"

"Janet! I feel just fine! Please!"

"No, Daniel!"

"Oh, come on!"

Jack paused just outside the infirmary doors and reflected that there were times when Daniel was a pretty bad patient. He'd just been up at Hammond's office to debrief and do all of that lovely stuff when he'd really wanted to see how Daniel was, but maybe he could go back and debrief again. Anything would be better than walking into that.

"Daniel, you're not going to get up and go haring off to search for Michael! I'm telling you that if you don't be quiet immediately and let yourself rest, I'm going to put you in restraints just like Colonel O'Neill suggested, got me?"

Ohhh, yeah. There was no way on God's green earth he was going to go in there now. Thanks, Doc. Thanks a whole lot.

Daniel tried a different track. "Janet, was there anything on the scans that said I wasn't fine?" Ahh, he was speaking in that 'I'm oh-so-reasonable-but-really-plan-on-doing-just-what-I-want' tone. The first couple of times Daniel had used it, Jack had fallen for it (and occasionally he still fell for it if he was tired or had had a couple beers), but fortunately Janet wasn't such a soft touch.

"No, there wasn't," she admitted. "However, that doesn't mean you're getting out of bed."

"Janet…"

"Quiet," Janet interrupted. "You've been sharing your mind and body with an alien entity for months now and we don't know how a head injury would affect you now. Also, you had a head injury in that car accident, so you need to spend at least a couple of days under observation. Two head injuries in less than six months are not good, Daniel, so there's no way you're leaving before I feel you should. Do you understand?"

"But what about Michael? He must have no idea what's going on! We don't know where he is!"

"The rest of SG-1 is working on that," Janet reminded him.

"But he must be so scared!"

"Daniel Jackson, you listen to me," Janet said in her take-no-prisoners tone. "You wearing yourself into the ground will not help Michael, and doing yourself a possible injury isn't going to help him, either! You need rest and you need to heal, got me? Besides, give Michael a little credit. He's been in your mind and observing human nature for a while. He's not a babe in the woods, Daniel. He's been with you through several kidnappings; he'll know what to do in order to survive and get away, just like you did."

"I had him to help me, though," Daniel pointed out. "When it all got to be too much, he was there for me. He distracted me by giving me other things to think about, he comforted me when I was discouraged, and he let me know I wasn't alone. If he hadn't been there I'm pretty sure I'd have gone crazy, and he doesn't have anyone to do that for him wherever he is now. I'm going crazy down here with no way to get to him and no way to help him."

Okay, now he could go in. Timing, it was all about timing. He slipped inside and waved hi to Janet, who headed to her office to give the two men a modicum of privacy. "Hey, Daniel. I heard what you were saying and I've just been debriefing with General Hammond."

Daniel looked at him, expectant. "What did he say?"

"Well, if Michael didn't whack you over the head and take off on his own--"

Daniel snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Then it is possible that someone here on Earth took him. Hammond's been in touch with a few sources and it seems that the NID have been really busy lately. Nobody knows where Simmons and his little group of henchmen are, so it stands to reason that they might be keeping Michael somewhere and trying to get him to debrief to them."

"I told Michael about Simmons and the NID," Daniel said. "Not a lot, but enough to let him know that they were bad news. I just hope to God he remembers."

"Ten to one, he will," Jack said. "I mean, he's been in your head for how long?"

"Long enough," Janet called from her office.

"Exactly," Jack said. "He'll be fine. He'll know what to do."

"That's what I keep trying to explain to Janet," Daniel groaned. "He'll know what to do, yes, but he's alone. He's seen human nature through my eyes mostly and I don't always see people clearly. You know me, I assume the best and hope they live up to my assumptions. Making assumptions with Simmons is dangerous. Simmons could do something that could seriously scare him and he wouldn't know what to do!"

Jack sat down on a handy stool. "Danny, just because he's been in your head doesn't mean he takes your assumptions for tried and true fact. He has a mind of his own and I have a strong feeling that just because he's seen the way you see people that doesn't mean that he sees them the same way. He'll come to his own conclusions, and didn't you say that you'd told him Simmons was bad? He may have seen your memories of Simmons and know for a fact that Simmons is to be approached with caution, if ever. It's more than likely that he'll have Simmons wrapped around his little finger within an hour and have him so scared of angering a superior being that Simmons apologizes and gives him a fruit basket! It's good that you're worried, but try to use a little sense, huh? Michael is an advanced being. Ten to one he knows all about human nature and then some. People are usually people everywhere, despite their species."

At last, Daniel felt himself relax a bit. "Thanks, Jack."

"No problem. I'm more than happy to do the sage-on-the-mountaintop act for you. What would you like for my next number? Person who brings you food from the commissary? I understand they're having roast chicken dinner tonight."

Daniel laughed. Jack was using his most persuasive tone of voice and he had a feeling that his friend would keep enumerating the praises of roast chicken whether Daniel wanted him to or not.

"C'mon, Danny-boy. They've got mushroom dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, hot dinner rolls with butter, peas, carrots, green beans, and they have the dessert bar set up. I know it's been a while since lunch, so how about I bring up a picnic for us and we chow down, huh?"

The last roast chicken dinner he'd had had been the one Pater had brought him, and the change in company was bound to add flavor to the food. "All right. Could you bring some for Janet, too? I'll bet she's hungry and she hasn't gone to the commissary once."

"That's because I was too busy trying to keep you in bed," she told him.

"Sure thing," Jack said. "Doc, you keep our space monkey in bed and I'll bring down enough to feed all of us, okay?"

"I'm still considering the restraints," Janet said darkly. Jack could intuit that all of her arguing with Daniel had put her in a bad mood.

"I'll stay put," Daniel promised. "I won't like it, but I'll stay where I am."

"That's the spirit," Jack said chummily, patting Daniel on the shoulder. Because it was easier to coax Daniel sometimes than fight with him, Jack decided that a little coaxing was in order. Besides, if Daniel was in a good mood then he would quit complaining, and that would mean that Janet's mood would improve. "Doc, would it be permissible for him to have his laptop and a little bit of work? Not much, just enough so that his desk isn't covered with papers when he gets back to it."

Janet tilted her head to the side and considered this, then nodded. "If he promises to take breaks when I tell him to, I don't see a problem."

"Oh, Janet, thank you," Daniel said fervently, relieved.

"Right. So, we need a laptop and some homework for Danny-boy and a feast for all of us," Jack said. "I'll be back in ten. Try not to kill each other before then, all right?"

Solemnly, Janet and Daniel both nodded, but Jack knew that this might be only a temporary peace if he didn't put some speed on his mission of mercy. He left the infirmary, hoping that neither doctor would become annoyed with the other before he got back.

As Jack left, Janet reflected on how good Colonel O'Neill was at handling people. It wasn't a surprise that he was so often called on to help General Hammond handle visitors to the base. Despite Daniel being the de facto diplomat, Jack O'Neill was a close second.

--

Ara sat on his cushion in the dayroom and found himself thinking yet again. He spent most of his time thinking. That was no surprise since the beings had given him a great deal to think about. There were only five of them, but they handled the three thousand Ashah without any difficulty. Families had been kept together, but as a whole the Ashah were watched after as if they were children, and the group who had been working with the Tau'ri were confined in the same compound where the Tau'ri had lived. The beings provided clean clothing and meals, supervised the Ashah's days, and administered punishment when they felt it was called for. Ara didn't know which was more difficult to bear, the constant supervision or the punishment. The Ashah were kept to a schedule of the beings' devising and it was irksome, to say the least. The more impatient among them lost their tempers several times a day and that led to being excluded from any activity until the angry ones were calm.

Ban and Lar were almost constantly in trouble, but Pater had actual tantrums at least once a day that led the beings to punishing him. At first, Ara had silently applauded Pater on his open defiance, but now his actions grated on nerves already raw from trying to remain calm. Didn't the child ever learn? And would he never stop complaining each time he was punished?

Ara was tired--he was tired from trying to fight against the beings' reasoning and patient voices, and he was tired of trying to find reasons to convince himself that the Ashah were right and the beings were the villains. It was so hard to keep telling himself that eventually they would break free of the beings when all events only served as evidence to the contrary.

They could not leave the compound. They could not move through any of the walls in order to get away from the beings. They were not able to leave the study while the beings were giving "lessons" and "talks" to the Ashah. They could not communicate telepathically with one another--how cumbersome a thing speech could be!--nor could they hide what they were thinking from the beings. Even in their dreams, the beings were there, talking to them. If the beings wanted them to do something, then they had no choice but to do it since the beings could make them do it. They could even be forced to listen to what the beings were saying!

Ara remembered the one time he'd tried violence to get away from his "teachers" and he was not eager to undergo the punishment again. The beings did nothing so crude as physical chastisement--oh, no, they did something much worse.

They made the offender experience Daniel's memories.

The one time they'd punished Ara like that, he came out of the memories weeping and unable to speak. The sheer anguish and fear that Daniel had gone through was staggering, and it was because of the Ashah's actions! There were no words, no words at all, to explain or describe how that knowledge made Ara and the Ashah feel. There were no words to describe the depths of Daniel's emotions or how much pain and harm the Ashah's actions had done to him. After his punishment, Ara had cried himself to sleep and dreamed of those memories and feelings and woke himself up more than once during the night, still crying. By the next afternoon the tears had abated, but he was subdued for days afterward and extremely obedient to all of the beings' wishes. He was positive that he could not bear the punishment a second time. At least, he wouldn't be able to bear it without losing his mind.

How could Ban, Lar, and Pater stand it? True, they came out of the memories weeping and upset, but that didn't stop them from defying the beings again.

"No!" Ara heard. He whipped around and saw that Iri had snapped at some request of the being presently talking to them. Ara had noticed that about them and marveled at the difference. When the Ashah had wanted the humans to do something, they ordered them and they stood for no refusal. When the beings wanted the Asah to do something, they requested twice, insisted once, and then if the person still refused, the person was excluded until he was ready to perform the task. If he still refused after a length of time or if he lashed out at someone, then punishment was given.

"Iri, would you listen to me please?" the being asked. Second request.

"I'm tired of listening!" Iri shouted. "Leave me be!"

"Iri, you will please listen," the being told him. Insistence.

"NO!"

Ooooh. Exclusion was coming. Ara was right. A moment later the being had moved Iri away from the group with no more effort than it took to move his hand, and some invisible barrier kept Iri where he'd been placed. The barrier kept anyone from hearing the shouting Iri was clearly doing, but it was clear that if Iri did not get control of himself, he would be punished shortly.

"Now I will begin my tale," the being said. "It is the story of a planet who had sought to control others."

Their "lessons" were usually stories from the beings' history, which was vast and included countless encounters with other races and other worlds. Each encounter became a part of the beings' historical canon and there was so much of it that Ara marveled that any of the beings were brave enough to become historians. The beings were a patient and non-violent race, but they understood that occasionally, despite being non-violent, defensive action was called for. In Daniel's mind, the beings were like a mix of the Asgard and the Nox. Each lesson usually illustrated some point, but the most common point was that it was not all right to try taking over a people's fate by taking it into your own hands. It was all right to interact with other species and other worlds as long as such interaction did not influence the other races unduly, such as radically limiting their development or directing it to suit you.

When the lessons and talks had first begun, Ara had tried his best to ignore them, but the beings were compelling storytellers, and there was little other distraction within the compound. Idly, Ara wondered if the being in Daniel's mind had told him stories to distract or comfort him and realized that he must have done so. Daniel loved history and learning about other people and cultures, so the being would not waste a chance to offer a gold mine of entertainment and distraction.

"You will please think about what I have told you," the being said as he finished his tale some time later. "Think about how their actions compared to those you took with Daniel."

As the being rose to deal with Iri, Ara felt his mind considering what he had just heard. The beings' control was incredible: Not only could they influence someone body and mind, but they could also make that person think about a certain topic. Once the beings requested them to think about something, then they had no choice but to think about it.

"You come in here and lecture us about keeping other people prisoner, but what do you think you're doing to us?" Iri demanded as the barrier was taken down.

"We're trying to help you, Iri," the being said patiently.

"We don't need your help!"

"Didn't Daniel and the Tau'ri need your help?" the being reminded him.

"Of course they did!"

"Then you also need our help."

If anything, that statement, delivered so calmly and with such assurance, made Iri lose it. He started shouting that the beings were nothing more than intruders who delighted in tormenting others and that they had no right whatsoever to do what they were doing. Iri heaped abuse upon the beings, calling them names that shocked even some of the Ashah. Ara began praying that Iri would get a hold of his temper before he did something stupid, like keep talking.

"I am sorry you feel that way, Iri," the being told him, sounding genuinely sorry. "I am only trying to help."

"We don't need your help!" Iri exploded, and he swung his fist at the being's head. The being moved out of the way easily and Iri sank to the floor a moment later, his mind filled with Daniel's memories. A moment after that and Ara heard Iri's first sob, a heartbroken sound that reminded Ara of his own experience of Daniel's memories and he shuddered. He watched as the being sat beside Iri and held him, gently rocking him back and forth, the way one would comfort a child. Ara reflected that the only times any of them had offered such closeness to Daniel had been when they wanted to make a point, rather than comfort him.

"We do not want you to inflict such pain on another being," the being said. "He could not bear it, and you cannot bear the same pain. Would you wish to cause so much anguish to another being again?"

Iri couldn't answer, but he shook his head, still sobbing.

"It is awful but you can keep yourself from doing it again," the being was saying. "We will help you and your people, Iri. All you need to do is listen."

Listen, Ara thought. It sounds so simple. I don't know if we have a choice anymore.

Ara knew that the being had heard him, for it glanced at him over Iri's head. Instead of that glance chilling him as he'd expected it to, suddenly he felt warm and comfortable. He felt, deep down, that the being actually cared for him.

Remarkable. Remarkable, surprising, but very, very good.

--

"Hello, Lieutenant," Simmons said brightly, waking him. "How did you sleep?"

"Not enough," Michael said, blinking in the sudden glare of the room's lights. "Could you come back later?"

Simmons actually chuckled. "I have to say, you have a very good sense of humor. It's very refreshing!"

Michael decided not to comment.

Simmons stopped at his silence and looked at him. "What's the matter? Not in the mood to talk?"

"Not really," Michael told him, confirming his supposition. "Why? Is there something to talk about?"

"You've been here three days and you keep insisting that there's nothing you can tell us," Simmons told him. "I'm starting to think that you're trying to mislead us."

Michael echoed Simmons' chuckle. "How can I help myself? You've given me such lovely accommodations that I want to stay as long as possible."

He was still on a bed in the infirmary and still in restraints, but they didn't appear to bother him. Any of SG-1 would have been complaining within an hour of waking up, but this man was...patient. Very, very patient when compared with SG-1. To Simmons' mind, that was only proof that this man was the alien they'd heard about at the SGC. There was other, physical proof as well. This man's eyes could perceive the entire light spectrum, which was far beyond the capabilities of a human. According to what visual tests had told the doctor, this man's visual acuity was literally that of a hawk. Added to that, he had hearing that could discern almost anyone's voice in the building, and the fact that those people might be on other floors made no difference.

The NID, realizing that alien beings had started to show a great deal of interest in Dr. Jackson, had taken the liberty of bugging the man's car and apartment, and what Michael Campbell had said about his being "about as human" as Dr. Jackson had to be fiction. It was if you considered only the man's sight and hearing abilities, but it was the rest of the dear Lieutenant's abilities (and the abilities of his people!) that Simmons was interested in. It was those abilities that Michael had yet to display.

"I was wondering if you would like to get up today," Simmons said. "You're obviously recovered and we would like to get to know you."

"And what is it that I'm recovering from?" Michael asked, his tone informing Simmons that he was not fooled in the slightest. "I seem to remember fighting some men and then having a wet handkerchief soaked with something foul pressed over my face. What was it? Chloroform? Ether?"

"What are you implying?" Simmons asked, hoping to convince him that his memories were faulty.

Michael raised an eyebrow. Oh, yes, this man had definitely been hanging out with SG-1. He'd absorbed all of their little mannerisms, and right now the look Michael was giving him was all Teal'c. "You have to be delusional. My memory is not faulty, Simmons, and I was not dreaming. I know what happened to me and you've wasted most of these last three days trying to convince me otherwise. It won't work."

"Any other human would have begun to doubt what he'd seen," Simmons said, slightly gleeful at Michael's demonstration of his offworld origins.

"Any other human would have lost his temper by now, but then, I'm a very patient man," Michael retorted. "You say you want to know about me and my people and I've told you about us, but you aren't satisfied with the answers I've given you. I don't know what more you want."

"You're pretending that you're just about human," Simmons said. "Why not drop the act and show us what you really are?"

Michael gave a short bark of laughter. "But this is what I am. I'm sorry I'm not what you were hoping for. If you want something a little different, why not ask Steven Spielburg? He could probably find you an ET."

Simmons kept his temper with Herculean effort. He was not making this easy. "Why don't we pursue this conversation later? You must want a shower and a hot meal, and I'll stop by later to see how you are, all right?"

Michael considered this. "If you wish. I won't have anything new to tell you, though."

"Oh, we'll see."

Michael was left alone to think about that while two orderlies came. They released the restraints and while he was in the shower one of them must have gotten him fresh clothes, which he pulled on with a little prayer of thanks. Three days in the same clothes got old very quickly and it was good to have fresh ones to put on. He was tired of being strapped to a hospital bed and all that required, not to mention the difficulties involved when he needed to use the bathroom! It didn't look like Simmons was going to make him remain in bed now, for which he was thankful. No, he was planning something else. Just what, well, Michael had a feeling he wouldn't have to wait long to find out.

He was right. Simmons returned just as he was finishing his breakfast, carrying a manila folder and wearing a smug expression. "Hello, Michael."

"Hello," Michael replied calmly. Such an expression could not be good news. "Toast?"

"No, thank you," Simmons said as he took a seat across from him. "I have something to show you." He handed the folder to Michael and waited while he paged through it.

Inside it were pictures--pictures in the form he was in now, stills from what had to be a SGC security tape when he'd gone through the Gate, pictures of when he was still sharing Daniel's body, and pictures of just Daniel. He looked at two of the latter two side by side and realized that there was some slight, but still palpable, sign of his presence. Hmmm. All the NID would have to do would be to show these two pictures to someone with more authority than General Hammond and persuade that person (wasn't the technical term for such a person 'high mucky-muck'? He could remember it from Daniel's memories and thought the term seemed apt) that Daniel had been compromised and should be taken into protective custody for examination and questioning. Just as troubling was the fact that Simmons now had actual proof that he was something other than human.

This was bad. Very, very bad.

"I see I don't have to tell you what these photos imply," Simmons said chummily. "I have a good many copies of those, so you can keep them if you like."

Michael looked at him. "Who in the SGC is supplying you with information?"

"Now, you must know that nothing of the kind is occurring, Lieutenant."

"Right," Michael said, more than a little disgusted. Did Simmons honestly think he could get the information he wanted by playing these games?

Apparently, he did. "So, Michael, why don't we go over those questions I asked you yesterday? I'm sure you'll have much more interesting answers this time."

Michael stayed in his chair, clutching the photos and struggling to stay calm. He would have to find a way out of this not only for his own sake, but for Daniel's as well.