Disclaimer: not mine, never were, I'm just borrowing, really. I'll put
them all back when I'm done. If I ever get done.
A/N: this is just chapter one. So be patient. If you really want to hurry me up send me lots and lots of e-mail. Really, it'll work. It should work. Try it and we'll see, okay?
ONE:
"Where the hell are you, Jack?" Daniel muttered, staring down at the scattered contents of several brown military files. The scattered record of the life of one Jonothan Richard O'Neill, colonel in the USAF, current location unknown. It was like a nightmare, only worse. The images and words cast about the room told the story of a nightmare of a life. They told the story of pain and horrors that Daniel had previously been unable to comprehend. Now they were all too real, and he only wished that they weren't.
Jack had been missing for three days. Three days! He'd disappeared from the hospital the same morning that an unidentified man managed to infiltrate the SGC, locking it down and using the Stargate to travel to parts unknown.
'Officially unidentified man,' Daniel amended in his mind. There had been no way to be completely sure of the man's identity but, even so, he knew it had been Jack or, rather, Jon. So did everyone else, judging from the pitying looks he'd been receiving around the mountain. People were acting like Jack was already dead. Yes, he'd left a note, but it hadn't been a suicide note. If anything that note was the one piece of hope that Daniel had left to cling to. In it Jack, or Jon, or both, had professed their belief that they'd be back. Not only that they'd be back, but that they'd be better.
With a sigh Daniel slumped against the wall, sliding to the floor and surveying the wreckage of his office. He'd spent the last three days going over every bit of information Hammond had procured for him. Hoping, however slightly, that it might give him some insight as to where Jack, or Jon, would go. They'd already searched Edora, and several other planets that Jack had seemed to take a liking to. They'd informed both the Tok'ra and the Tollan that Jack had disappeared, most probably through the Stargate. The Tok'ra they'd informed because they had eyes and ears virtually everywhere. The Tollan they'd informed because Jack, Jon, or whoever, could possibly end up on Tollana, however unlikely that was.
General Carter and Selmak were at the base, helping to co-ordinate the search. The Tok'ra also had a personal stake in returning Jack to his proper place. The errant colonel possessed information about Tok'ra bases and operatives that, in the hands of just about any ambitious goa'uld (and they were all ambitious) would mean the end of their resistance and, quite possibly, their species.
"God, what did I do wrong?" Daniel asked, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. Of course, he received no answer.
* * *
In her lab Sam was furiously working on building the device that the Colonel had so thoughtfully provided the schematics for. She was still having trouble with the idea. The Colonel, had drawn schematics, for something that was not a bomb, firearm, or telescope. 'He's not the Colonel,' she furiously reminded herself. He, whoever 'he' was, was an alternate personality. The result of some terrible trauma that her Colonel had chosen to keep to himself, in all probability for a damned good reason.
Without paying attention to what she was doing Sam accidentally burned through a rather delicate piece of wiring. "Fuck," she muttered, softly and with feeling. With a sigh she removed the ruined piece and set it down next to the main body of the device.
The device was basically made up of a textbook sized pile of circuit boards, layered and connected, and consisting of earth, goa'uld, and unidentified technologies. They all appeared to be working, but for the life of her the scientist in Sam couldn't figure it out, because it shouldn't have been working. If anything the varied circuits and their interfaces should have fried each other into crispy silicone fragments. Instead, Sam flicked the ON switch, the one bit she'd actually been able to figure out, and watched as three banks of red and green lights blinked on and off, while the circuits contentedly hummed to themselves. With a disgusted sigh Sam flicked the machine off.
For all the colonel's exceedingly detailed schematics, the man's notes had been significantly lacking. He hadn't left any clues as to what this thing was, or what it was supposed to do. The only reason she'd chosen this one to begin with was that it was the last set of schematics he'd sketched out. Presumably it was the device, or one of the devices, that he'd used in his escape from the hospital, not to mention his subsequent activation of the Stargate.
There was no evidence, of course. The security cameras had been fried a full five seconds before the 'mystery man' had walked onto the base. No one had seen him, no thing had seen him. For all they knew it could have been one large and completely coincidental computer glitch. 'Yeah,' Sam thought, 'and Santa Clause is a goa'uld.' There was no evidence, but she knew that it had been the colonel, or rather his 'primary alternate,' what had Daniel said its name was? Jon?
That was another thing. She was royally pissed at Daniel. He'd as much as lied to her, and Teal'c, when he'd let them believe that that thing was Col. O'Neill. Even if it had only been for a few hours. He should have told them! 'He should have told me!'
The soft rustle of fabric behind her alerted her that there was someone there. She turned tiredly. "What do you want, Dad?" she asked, facing her father.
"You've been working practically non-stop on that thing for the last three days, Sam," her father said. "You should take a break."
Sam knew that her father was right, but it was frustrating. Her CO, and friend, was missing, and when she wasn't doing anything she felt useless. Major Samantha Carter did not like feeling useless. It didn't sit right with her. Mutely, she shook her head. Back and forth, back and forth, pressing her lips together and fighting against tears which seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere.
Jacob, seeing his daughter battling so hard to keep her feelings repressed, was caught between the tides of conflicting emotions. Half of him was proud to see a Carter with such control. The other half of him really wanted to pound the first half of him for making his daughter feel as if she had to be a stone, without feelings or emotion. In the end the sane part of him, Selmak, won out.
'Go to her,' the Tok'ra whispered in his mind. 'She needs comfort.'
So, for perhaps the third time in his daughter's life, Jacob Carter went to her and let her know that it was okay to be human. "Shh," he soothed her, enveloping her in his arms. "It'll be alright, Sam," he whispered against the top of her head. "It'll be alright."
For her part, Sam clung to her father like she was three years old again. She held on to him like he was the only real thing in her world. And, for the first time in three days, she let down the dam of military upbringing and training, and she cried. Softly, and silently, Samantha Carter cried.
"Shh, it'll be alright, Sam, it'll be alright."
* * *
General Hammond sat behind his desk. Waiting. He'd sent someone down to Jackson's office almost twenty minutes ago. Before that he'd tried calling. The anthropologist had ignored the phone, so he'd sent an airman to drag him away from his office. By force if necessary.
Dr. Jackson needed rest. All of SG-1 needed rest. For that matter, Hammond himself needed rest. But, he wouldn't let himself rest until Col. O'Neill's team was taken care of. Jack would have his head on a platter if he ever found out he'd allowed this to go on for three days. The General allowed himself a small smile at that thought, but it disappeared all to quickly.
Daniel appeared in the doorway, wearing the same shirt and slacks he'd appeared in three days ago. He looked like he hadn't seen the back of his eyelids for three days, ever since the Colonel had disappeared from Hillview. His clothes were wrinkled and rumpled. His hair was in disarray. Behind his glasses his eyes were tired and red.
"Dr. Jackson, why don't you go home and get some rest?" the General asked, his voice soft, and not unkind. Jackson shook his head, arms wrapped around himself, chin tucked down against his chest. "Doctor, you can't help the Colonel if you're too exhausted to stand," the General pointed out. "Or if I put you on mandatory leave."
A small smile flitted across the anthropologist's lips, a brief burst of emotion, quickly wiped away. Daniel had become remarkably well versed at hiding his emotions, ever since Jack had disappeared, but three days without sleep would start breaking down anyone's walls.
"You'll call?" Daniel asked.
Hammond nodded. "The moment we know anything, you'll know. You have my word."
Daniel nodded, stood there silently for a moment, as if he couldn't remember what he was supposed to be doing, and then left the office. The door swung shut behind him. With a sigh Hammond sat back into his chair, rubbing the back of his bare head. After a moment's thought he picked up the phone on his desk, hitting the intercom.
"Make sure someone's available to drive Dr. Jackson to his apartment," he ordered the secretary, and then sat back again.
One down, two to go.
* * *
Teal'c nodded his thanks to the village elder of Bae-assen, a small village on P2X-667, a planet SG-1 had visited several months before Col. O'Neill's first disappearance. The worn looking man had informed him, very politely, that no, Colonel O'Neill had not been seen for several months, ever since the earthling's first visit to his planet.
Teal'c had kept his face impassive by habit alone. Inside he felt beaten. This was the ninth planet he'd visited in three days. Several other SG teams were searching other planets. No one had found so much as a trace of O'Neill. Which was to be expected.
After all, the man was trained in how to disappear. He'd managed to hide on his own planet for weeks and months at a time. With an endless amount of planets available to hide him, well, Teal'c didn't really expect to find his friend and comrade in arms until the man was ready to be found.
Even so, he searched, because to do anything else would be to betray his friends, all of them. The other members of SG-1 were tearing themselves apart, each searching for O'Neill in their own way. If they could continue, then so could he. He had to.
The big Jaffa turned away and started the five-mile hike back to the Stargate. He'd chosen this planet because of O'Neill's comments about its plentiful fish-life. The next planet had been chosen for the same reason.
* * *
Jack opened his eyes to find himself in the same place he'd been, off and on, for the last three days. The hours had been broken up by periodic visits to various different pieces of memories. None of them were pleasant. In between the strolls down nightmare lane he got to listen to his alternates. All of them.
They were trooping through the small room, one at a time. First had been Jonothan, of course. After him had come Michael, Gary, Eli, and Grant. Every time he flashed on Michael's eyes he got the willies. Whatever shred of humanity he had left within him, it wasn't in Michael. He understood now why Jon had been so upset when he'd thrown him out there. He'd been lucky Michael hadn't killed everyone in the base.
He would have been more than capable of it. And worse.
Gary had been a servant in an arms dealer's house. He'd been the head Jeeves, and he acted like it. Right down to the snooty British accent. He'd been quite appalled at the state of his shared body.
Eli had been an art dealer in a small suburb. For the life of him Jack couldn't figure out where the man had come from, but he'd chatted about work (it was so very fascinating), his girlfriend (Amanda Cordeu), and his dog (a German Shepard that Amanda was currently babysitting). The fool had thought he was out on business.
Grant was a homeless mess. Jack remembered when he'd put the poor man together. A Vietnam veteran who'd lost more than his sanity in the trenches. His entire purpose was to catch the attention of a group of mercenary terrorists. It had worked.
He searched the room, but he was alone. There were no alternates to bore, scare, or amuse him. Just Jack, all alone, as usual. The second he thought it Jon appeared, crouched in the opposite corner, dressed in black, every hair in place on his head. Eyes empty and cold.
"You're not alone, Jack. Not now, not ever," Jonothan informed his mirror image. Jack swallowed and shook his head.
"What, I know there are more of them hanging around. Are they shy?" Jack asked.
Jon chuckled, and it was not a happy sound. "You need to rest, so I locked them up."
"Why do you give a shit?"
"If you die I die, remember. For that matter, so does everyone else."
"Screw them, and screw you."
"Is that any way to talk to the man that made you?"
Jack just glared at Jonothan, eyes narrowed. Jon leaned against the wall and returned the glare, face neutral and eyes cold. "I never asked to end up in this world," he spat at the other man.
"You think I did?" Jon asked, one eyebrow arching up. "My mother was raped by a freak of nature, you think I asked for that?"
Jack closed his eyes, letting his head fall against the wall. 'You are him,' Jack thought, silently, but it made no difference.
Jon shook his head. "I'm as much our mother as I am our father," Jonothan replied. Jack opened his eyes and looked at him. "I'm a killer, Jack. I'm as crazy as they come and I have done things for which I'm sure I'll burn in Hell. But I am not a rapist, and I would never hurt a child."
"I know," Jack said, and then exhaustion reared up, and he let it fall over him.
A/N: remember those e-mails!
A/N: this is just chapter one. So be patient. If you really want to hurry me up send me lots and lots of e-mail. Really, it'll work. It should work. Try it and we'll see, okay?
ONE:
"Where the hell are you, Jack?" Daniel muttered, staring down at the scattered contents of several brown military files. The scattered record of the life of one Jonothan Richard O'Neill, colonel in the USAF, current location unknown. It was like a nightmare, only worse. The images and words cast about the room told the story of a nightmare of a life. They told the story of pain and horrors that Daniel had previously been unable to comprehend. Now they were all too real, and he only wished that they weren't.
Jack had been missing for three days. Three days! He'd disappeared from the hospital the same morning that an unidentified man managed to infiltrate the SGC, locking it down and using the Stargate to travel to parts unknown.
'Officially unidentified man,' Daniel amended in his mind. There had been no way to be completely sure of the man's identity but, even so, he knew it had been Jack or, rather, Jon. So did everyone else, judging from the pitying looks he'd been receiving around the mountain. People were acting like Jack was already dead. Yes, he'd left a note, but it hadn't been a suicide note. If anything that note was the one piece of hope that Daniel had left to cling to. In it Jack, or Jon, or both, had professed their belief that they'd be back. Not only that they'd be back, but that they'd be better.
With a sigh Daniel slumped against the wall, sliding to the floor and surveying the wreckage of his office. He'd spent the last three days going over every bit of information Hammond had procured for him. Hoping, however slightly, that it might give him some insight as to where Jack, or Jon, would go. They'd already searched Edora, and several other planets that Jack had seemed to take a liking to. They'd informed both the Tok'ra and the Tollan that Jack had disappeared, most probably through the Stargate. The Tok'ra they'd informed because they had eyes and ears virtually everywhere. The Tollan they'd informed because Jack, Jon, or whoever, could possibly end up on Tollana, however unlikely that was.
General Carter and Selmak were at the base, helping to co-ordinate the search. The Tok'ra also had a personal stake in returning Jack to his proper place. The errant colonel possessed information about Tok'ra bases and operatives that, in the hands of just about any ambitious goa'uld (and they were all ambitious) would mean the end of their resistance and, quite possibly, their species.
"God, what did I do wrong?" Daniel asked, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. Of course, he received no answer.
* * *
In her lab Sam was furiously working on building the device that the Colonel had so thoughtfully provided the schematics for. She was still having trouble with the idea. The Colonel, had drawn schematics, for something that was not a bomb, firearm, or telescope. 'He's not the Colonel,' she furiously reminded herself. He, whoever 'he' was, was an alternate personality. The result of some terrible trauma that her Colonel had chosen to keep to himself, in all probability for a damned good reason.
Without paying attention to what she was doing Sam accidentally burned through a rather delicate piece of wiring. "Fuck," she muttered, softly and with feeling. With a sigh she removed the ruined piece and set it down next to the main body of the device.
The device was basically made up of a textbook sized pile of circuit boards, layered and connected, and consisting of earth, goa'uld, and unidentified technologies. They all appeared to be working, but for the life of her the scientist in Sam couldn't figure it out, because it shouldn't have been working. If anything the varied circuits and their interfaces should have fried each other into crispy silicone fragments. Instead, Sam flicked the ON switch, the one bit she'd actually been able to figure out, and watched as three banks of red and green lights blinked on and off, while the circuits contentedly hummed to themselves. With a disgusted sigh Sam flicked the machine off.
For all the colonel's exceedingly detailed schematics, the man's notes had been significantly lacking. He hadn't left any clues as to what this thing was, or what it was supposed to do. The only reason she'd chosen this one to begin with was that it was the last set of schematics he'd sketched out. Presumably it was the device, or one of the devices, that he'd used in his escape from the hospital, not to mention his subsequent activation of the Stargate.
There was no evidence, of course. The security cameras had been fried a full five seconds before the 'mystery man' had walked onto the base. No one had seen him, no thing had seen him. For all they knew it could have been one large and completely coincidental computer glitch. 'Yeah,' Sam thought, 'and Santa Clause is a goa'uld.' There was no evidence, but she knew that it had been the colonel, or rather his 'primary alternate,' what had Daniel said its name was? Jon?
That was another thing. She was royally pissed at Daniel. He'd as much as lied to her, and Teal'c, when he'd let them believe that that thing was Col. O'Neill. Even if it had only been for a few hours. He should have told them! 'He should have told me!'
The soft rustle of fabric behind her alerted her that there was someone there. She turned tiredly. "What do you want, Dad?" she asked, facing her father.
"You've been working practically non-stop on that thing for the last three days, Sam," her father said. "You should take a break."
Sam knew that her father was right, but it was frustrating. Her CO, and friend, was missing, and when she wasn't doing anything she felt useless. Major Samantha Carter did not like feeling useless. It didn't sit right with her. Mutely, she shook her head. Back and forth, back and forth, pressing her lips together and fighting against tears which seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere.
Jacob, seeing his daughter battling so hard to keep her feelings repressed, was caught between the tides of conflicting emotions. Half of him was proud to see a Carter with such control. The other half of him really wanted to pound the first half of him for making his daughter feel as if she had to be a stone, without feelings or emotion. In the end the sane part of him, Selmak, won out.
'Go to her,' the Tok'ra whispered in his mind. 'She needs comfort.'
So, for perhaps the third time in his daughter's life, Jacob Carter went to her and let her know that it was okay to be human. "Shh," he soothed her, enveloping her in his arms. "It'll be alright, Sam," he whispered against the top of her head. "It'll be alright."
For her part, Sam clung to her father like she was three years old again. She held on to him like he was the only real thing in her world. And, for the first time in three days, she let down the dam of military upbringing and training, and she cried. Softly, and silently, Samantha Carter cried.
"Shh, it'll be alright, Sam, it'll be alright."
* * *
General Hammond sat behind his desk. Waiting. He'd sent someone down to Jackson's office almost twenty minutes ago. Before that he'd tried calling. The anthropologist had ignored the phone, so he'd sent an airman to drag him away from his office. By force if necessary.
Dr. Jackson needed rest. All of SG-1 needed rest. For that matter, Hammond himself needed rest. But, he wouldn't let himself rest until Col. O'Neill's team was taken care of. Jack would have his head on a platter if he ever found out he'd allowed this to go on for three days. The General allowed himself a small smile at that thought, but it disappeared all to quickly.
Daniel appeared in the doorway, wearing the same shirt and slacks he'd appeared in three days ago. He looked like he hadn't seen the back of his eyelids for three days, ever since the Colonel had disappeared from Hillview. His clothes were wrinkled and rumpled. His hair was in disarray. Behind his glasses his eyes were tired and red.
"Dr. Jackson, why don't you go home and get some rest?" the General asked, his voice soft, and not unkind. Jackson shook his head, arms wrapped around himself, chin tucked down against his chest. "Doctor, you can't help the Colonel if you're too exhausted to stand," the General pointed out. "Or if I put you on mandatory leave."
A small smile flitted across the anthropologist's lips, a brief burst of emotion, quickly wiped away. Daniel had become remarkably well versed at hiding his emotions, ever since Jack had disappeared, but three days without sleep would start breaking down anyone's walls.
"You'll call?" Daniel asked.
Hammond nodded. "The moment we know anything, you'll know. You have my word."
Daniel nodded, stood there silently for a moment, as if he couldn't remember what he was supposed to be doing, and then left the office. The door swung shut behind him. With a sigh Hammond sat back into his chair, rubbing the back of his bare head. After a moment's thought he picked up the phone on his desk, hitting the intercom.
"Make sure someone's available to drive Dr. Jackson to his apartment," he ordered the secretary, and then sat back again.
One down, two to go.
* * *
Teal'c nodded his thanks to the village elder of Bae-assen, a small village on P2X-667, a planet SG-1 had visited several months before Col. O'Neill's first disappearance. The worn looking man had informed him, very politely, that no, Colonel O'Neill had not been seen for several months, ever since the earthling's first visit to his planet.
Teal'c had kept his face impassive by habit alone. Inside he felt beaten. This was the ninth planet he'd visited in three days. Several other SG teams were searching other planets. No one had found so much as a trace of O'Neill. Which was to be expected.
After all, the man was trained in how to disappear. He'd managed to hide on his own planet for weeks and months at a time. With an endless amount of planets available to hide him, well, Teal'c didn't really expect to find his friend and comrade in arms until the man was ready to be found.
Even so, he searched, because to do anything else would be to betray his friends, all of them. The other members of SG-1 were tearing themselves apart, each searching for O'Neill in their own way. If they could continue, then so could he. He had to.
The big Jaffa turned away and started the five-mile hike back to the Stargate. He'd chosen this planet because of O'Neill's comments about its plentiful fish-life. The next planet had been chosen for the same reason.
* * *
Jack opened his eyes to find himself in the same place he'd been, off and on, for the last three days. The hours had been broken up by periodic visits to various different pieces of memories. None of them were pleasant. In between the strolls down nightmare lane he got to listen to his alternates. All of them.
They were trooping through the small room, one at a time. First had been Jonothan, of course. After him had come Michael, Gary, Eli, and Grant. Every time he flashed on Michael's eyes he got the willies. Whatever shred of humanity he had left within him, it wasn't in Michael. He understood now why Jon had been so upset when he'd thrown him out there. He'd been lucky Michael hadn't killed everyone in the base.
He would have been more than capable of it. And worse.
Gary had been a servant in an arms dealer's house. He'd been the head Jeeves, and he acted like it. Right down to the snooty British accent. He'd been quite appalled at the state of his shared body.
Eli had been an art dealer in a small suburb. For the life of him Jack couldn't figure out where the man had come from, but he'd chatted about work (it was so very fascinating), his girlfriend (Amanda Cordeu), and his dog (a German Shepard that Amanda was currently babysitting). The fool had thought he was out on business.
Grant was a homeless mess. Jack remembered when he'd put the poor man together. A Vietnam veteran who'd lost more than his sanity in the trenches. His entire purpose was to catch the attention of a group of mercenary terrorists. It had worked.
He searched the room, but he was alone. There were no alternates to bore, scare, or amuse him. Just Jack, all alone, as usual. The second he thought it Jon appeared, crouched in the opposite corner, dressed in black, every hair in place on his head. Eyes empty and cold.
"You're not alone, Jack. Not now, not ever," Jonothan informed his mirror image. Jack swallowed and shook his head.
"What, I know there are more of them hanging around. Are they shy?" Jack asked.
Jon chuckled, and it was not a happy sound. "You need to rest, so I locked them up."
"Why do you give a shit?"
"If you die I die, remember. For that matter, so does everyone else."
"Screw them, and screw you."
"Is that any way to talk to the man that made you?"
Jack just glared at Jonothan, eyes narrowed. Jon leaned against the wall and returned the glare, face neutral and eyes cold. "I never asked to end up in this world," he spat at the other man.
"You think I did?" Jon asked, one eyebrow arching up. "My mother was raped by a freak of nature, you think I asked for that?"
Jack closed his eyes, letting his head fall against the wall. 'You are him,' Jack thought, silently, but it made no difference.
Jon shook his head. "I'm as much our mother as I am our father," Jonothan replied. Jack opened his eyes and looked at him. "I'm a killer, Jack. I'm as crazy as they come and I have done things for which I'm sure I'll burn in Hell. But I am not a rapist, and I would never hurt a child."
"I know," Jack said, and then exhaustion reared up, and he let it fall over him.
A/N: remember those e-mails!