'And I'll use you as a makeshift gauge
Of how much to give and how much to take,
Oh I'll use you as a warning sign
That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind.'

"I Found" ~ Amber Run

The receptionist eyed them, dubious. Her gaze lingered a moment on Cam's wheelchair, the blanket that was too flat for Cam to have knees or feet, before narrowing on Sam. Her pen hesitated over the clipboard.

"Sister, you say?"

Sam clapped a hand on Cam's arm and put on her best watery eyes. She'd even let her mascara run. "Carter is my married name. I just had to be here to support Cammy for his first session. He hasn't even talked about this since…since…"

She blew her nose noisily in a handkerchief.

Cam sighed. "Come on, sis. We talked about this."

"I know," Sam quavered, laying it on thick. "But I just couldn't let you do it alone. You're such a macho air force guy and you never talk about—"

"Oh not this again!"

"Yes, this again!"

"You think everyone should cry!"

"It helps process feelings!"

The receptionist's eyes widened and she put up her hands. "Alright, ma'am? Ma'am. You're going to have to wait out here while Colonel Mitchell is in session with Dr. Ramirez."

Sam squeezed her hand too for good measure, feeling its clamminess. "Thank you!"

The receptionist snatched her hand back and then shuffled away, pale. When her back turned, Sam threw a sly wink at Cam. He fist bumped her behind the purse on her knees.

"Cammy? Really?"

"I had to sell it."

Cam shook his head with a snicker. "And sell it we did."

"You got this?" Sam whispered. She had to check one last time.

Cam smiled. "I have the easy part. I'm just amazed Dr. Ramirez didn't catch on that I was a conflict of interest, knowing Jack, when we talked on the phone." He nudged Sam. "And I'm psyched to be back in the game."

Warmth rushed through Sam and she pecked Cam's cheek.

"Aw, stop it," Cam groused, louder. "I don't know why I agreed to let you come!"

Sam played along. "Because you need to lean on people!"

"More Dr. Phil logic, sis?"

The receptionist hurried between them. "Colonel Mitchell, if you'll follow me. Dr. Ramirez has a room set up for you down the hall."

A pair of swinging, saloon-style doors separated the waiting area from the row of therapy rooms. The instant they swung shut behind Cam's chair, Sam was up and over to the receptionist's desk. The woman had left a steaming mug of coffee on a stack of file folders. Digging through her purse, Sam produced a packet of fine white powder.

"Please let this work," Sam muttered as she ripped open the packet.

She only had seconds to stir in the powder with her finger before clacking heels interrupted. Sam darted back to her chair and pretended to weep softly.

Sam had to wait thirty minutes. Thirty minutes.

She watched that receptionist down her coffee like it was the last on planet Earth. Sam imagined Daniel next to her, what he'd say if he were here.

Coupled with the smell of black coffee, she could almost hear his voice—"What, you learn this kind of cloak and dagger stuff in military school or summer camp? And they call me childish."

Sam couldn't fight a smile.

It grew bigger when the receptionist's eyes widened. She put a hand to her stomach and ran towards a bathroom down the hall.

Sam was up out of her chair before the bathroom door closed. A fat filing cabinet took up the whole wall behind the desk. Sam tore through it.

"O'Neill, O'Neill, O'Neill…"

Come on. Please let it be here.

Sweat beaded on her arms. She flipped through one drawer and swore, bumping it closed with her hip. She yanked open another one.

...O'Leary, O'Neill!

Her eyes skimmed Jack's patient file and clouded with confusion.

She'd expected Dr. Ramirez's observation of PTSD symptoms.

She had not expected Jack's severe depression born of loss. Loss of contact.

No wonder he'd been vulnerable enough to finally see a shrink. Sam ignored another fleeting mental picture of Daniel and flipped to medications at the back.

"Lithium? Who prescribes lithium anymore? That's not even what was in the bottle—"

If someone had told Sam a week ago that her quiet cellphone ringing would send her tightly wound self into an adrenaline induced fumble for a machine gun that wasn't there, she would have ordered them to get a psych evaluation.

Sam jumped halfway to the ozone layer before she dug the thing out of her pocket. Her hands trembled.

She tucked it between her ear and shoulder. "Carter here."

"Sam, I finally recognized one of the weird elements in those drugs."

Sam's heart sped up at the doctor's voice. "Carolyn, what is it?"

"I didn't recognize it at first because of its form. I've never seen it as a powder. It's actually quite fascinating…"

"Carolyn." Sam halted the woman's stalling. "What did you find?"

Lam sighed. "The primary element is naquadah. The others are a synthesis of naquadah and a hallucinogen called Ketamine."

White shock reigned for a full minute. Sam went rigid. Nothing processed passed the inexcusable fact:

"It's someone from the program."

"I know," said Carolyn quietly.

"It…someone from the program hurt Jack…They hurt him."

"I know, Sam. Take some deep breaths."

"Only someone with access to mission files and samples could have done this." Sam said it with a rare kind of fury. Blank. Single minded. Ready to rend apart at an instant's notice.

Carolyn sucked in a sharp breath. "What about the psychiatrist?"

Sam shook her head then remembered Carolyn couldn't see it. "He is, sadly, just pawn in all of this. He really is a licensed psychiatrist and I've never seen him before. Dr. Ramirez wasn't even the one who treated Jack. It was some random doctoral intern."

"Who?"

Sam flipped through the file. "A Lowell Ackman."

"Maybe it's a cover name for someone on base. I don't recognize it."

"I hand check every employee who passes through the front gate," Sam argued. "I trust these men and women with my life. I can't believe any of them would have done it. Unless…oh no."

"What? Sam, what?"

Sam's nostrils flared. "Carolyn, put Walter on the phone."

There was a pause and the beep of switched phone lines before Walter asked—"Colonel? How is infiltrating the psychiatrist's office going?"

Sam's mouth swung open. "How do you know about that?"

"Did the laxative work? That was a nice touch."

"Harriman."

"Er…Teal'c thought someone else should know in case of contingency situations."

"Traitor," Sam muttered, placing the file back and resuming her seat.

"What can I do for you, Colonel?" Walter wisely changed the subject.

"Get me the IOA. I need Agent Bowman on base ASAP."

A long, hesitating quiet ensued. Sam's stomach clenched as she resumed her seat. She swallowed, avoiding eye contact even when Cam wheeled back out and paid for his session. He shook an elderly Dr. Ramirez's hand with a genuine smile.

"Sam," Walter began. Her heart skipped a beat at this seminal use of her first name. "Agent Bowman is already here."

Sam saw red.


"You knew!"

Sam marched down the SGC hall with an accusing finger and eyes kin to an erupting volcano. Carolyn and Teal'c ran at her heels, the doctor panting something about blood pressure while Cam wheeled furiously on their six. His hands pumped like train pistons.

"You knew that day you interviewed Daniel. You knew all along!"

Bowman put up both hands. "Colonel Carter—"

"And get out of my control room!" Sam barked.

Bowman obediently walked down the steps to meet an irate Sam. She got right up in the agent's face, her finger on his sternum.

Despite this, her voice came out with a deadly brand of softness. "You sent us to do your dirty work. Admit it—the IOA has a leak and you knew all along."

Agent Bowman had the grace to blush. "I won't deny it. We first noticed a problem two years ago."

Cam's face drained of all colour. "No. No."

"I'm so confused," said Carolyn.

Bowman ran a hand through his hair. "I truly am sorry."

"Cut the crap," said Sam. "What happened?"

"The IOA didn't set up that disastrous mission two years ago, even though the mandate came from our organization," Bowman confessed. "Someone else gave the order. SG-1, along with Dr. Jackson's escort of retired Jack O'Neill, left the planet before we could stop you."

Walter and Hughes had come down the stairs at the commotion. Now, both looked ready to vomit. Sam couldn't hear anything past a ringing in her ears and Cam hid his face behind a hand.

"Is it phantom pains?" asked Dr. Lam, an automatic question after all this time.

Cam shook his head. "I wish. This hurts worse."

Sam exhaled a sob-like breath.

"Why did the IOA not inform us?" asked Teal'c.

Bowman scoffed. "We thought we could find the mole on our own, flush him out. So far…well, here we are. This mole has even stolen naquadah samples. We think he also threatened General Landry. Why else would he step down?"

"Trauma maybe?" Walter snapped. "He blamed himself for that mission."

"You have to understand," said Bowman, "if we told the SGC or the president about the mole, we'd lose all credibility."

"Too late." Sam glared at Bowman with bright eyes. "You lost credibility the moment you stepped on my base."

No one spoke for a long time. Employees wandering down the hall took one look at the seven, ashen faced figures and turned around.

They were immobile. A wet patch formed in drips on the front of Cam's shirt and Teal'c rested one huge hand on his shoulder. Carolyn accepted Walter's silently offered Kleenex.

Sam gazed at these people. These broken, loyal people. One guilt ridden IOA agent.

Seven people. Just like a gate address, Sam marveled. And yet none of us have a clue where we're going.

"Why would someone order SG-1 to go to a booby trapped planet?" Hughes finally asked.

Sam shrugged. Invisible stones weighed her shoulders. "Experiment, maybe. Or greed—the acquisition of some artifact, which is why we needed Daniel in the first place. There was writing on the MALP footage our archaeologists couldn't translate."

We've been set up. Pawns. They were all pawns in someone's long term game.

Cam lifted his head after what felt like an eternity. "Whatever the reason, we need to work together to find our leak."

Sam's jaw flexed. "Cam—"

"I know, Sam. I hate the IOA too but right now we have a common enemy." He glanced at Agent Bowman and then at Sam. "We need all hands on deck to find Jack."

Carolyn squeezed Cam's hand. She met Sam's eyes and nodded. Teal'c bowed his head in agreement.

Walter opened his mouth but just then Klaxons blared overhead. Walter's station lit up like a cherry bomb factory.

Everyone followed Walter and Hughes up the stairs. The control room became crowded but none of them noticed. Cam didn't even argue when Teal'c lifted the man from his chair and carried him in his arms, bridal style.

The stargate connected with its signature noise and flickering lights. It was the first time in Sam's life she jumped at a wormhole locking.

"What is it?" Cam asked.

"It…it's Daniel!" cried Walter.

Everyone startled.

Sam squinted at the console. "Daniel? Are you sure?"

"Perfectly sure! He even left us a message."

"A message?" asked Doctor Lam. "How do you know?"

It was Hughes who answered. He simply pointed through the window.

There, splayed on the ramp where someone had thrown it through, was a giant sheet of tent canvas with seven charcoal figures and three words in giant block letters—

Call. Now. ~Daniel.