And the next part! Again I thank my beta Shedoc for putting up with my English. Thanks, you're the best.
So, let the insanity continue…
Part 6b
Klaxons started blaring through Stargate-Command, announcing an unscheduled gate-activation. General Hammond had been in the control room when the gate started to move and so he was there when Lieutenant Simmons confirmed what he had silently feared: SG-1 was returning home, hours before they had been expected.
Ordering the iris open and a medical team into the gate-room the General himself went down there. Sadly it wasn't all that unusual for SG-1 to return off schedule. The team seemed to attract more trouble than all others put together.
The last chevron encoded and the wormhole established. Seconds later Colonel O'Neill walked through, a very annoyed expression on his face, closely followed by Major Carter, who didn't look terrible happy either, Doctor Jackson, who looked as if someone had died and lastly Teal'c, who, in all his expressionless looked rather worried, too.
General Hammond took in the dirty uniforms of the team, Doctor Jackson's missing jacket and his torn and bloody shirt and Colonel O'Neill's mood, and knew that something had gone terribly wrong on the mission. Well, at least this time all had returned, seemingly relatively well.
"What happened, Colonel?"
"Let's see" Jack answered, his sarcasm turned down only minimally "The planet wasn't uninhabited at all, the natives were anything but friendly and for the first time in my life I'm glad about Daniel's habit of wandering off."
The rest of the team remained silent while Jack glared venomously at Daniel, which prompted a cold look from Teal'c who was still standing behind Daniel. The General was getting the feeling that there was more to this story.
"Get to the infirmary. Briefing will be as soon as Doctor Fraiser has cleared you."
Jack nodded curtly and walked off. Sam turned slightly looking at Daniel and Teal'c, before following her CO. Daniel closed his eyes, breathed deeply and then followed his two teammates with Teal'c still at his side. General Hammond had a very bad feeling about this. He had never seen his team behaving like this. Something major had happened on this planet and he hoped he would find out soon.
*********************
Janet looked up when Jack O'Neill stormed into her infirmary. He didn't look happy. In fact the whole team didn't look too joyful as they walked in one by one. Jack kept sending glares at Daniel, who's look was altering constantly between resolve and hopelessness. With one look Janet noticed the blood on Daniel's shirt and a nasty suspicion started forming in her mind. Her suspicion was confirmed when Daniel looked at her and said silently:
"They know."
Two simple words and still Daniel managed to lay a whole world of meaning into them. With only two words he told her that he hadn't told his secret freely and that the reaction of his friends hadn't been too good. Well, the last thing she could have figured out for herself, judging alone by the glares O'Neill kept shooting around.
"Yes, we know, and I'm still waiting for an explanation, Jackson!" the Colonel snarled in Daniel's general direction. Janet saw him flinch and at that moment she really wanted to smack Jack O'Neill. Teal'c would probably help from the look he had in his eyes. Didn't the Colonel realize what he was doing to Daniel with his rejection?
Very soon after Daniel had joined SG-1, when his friendship with Jack O'Neill was just starting, the Immortal had confided in his watcher, telling her that he wasn't sure if he could find the courage for a new friendship. Most of all so shortly after his loss of Sha'uri and Skaara. For an Immortal as old as Daniel, forging new friendships (or even letting himself love) was always equalled with future pain. But as time went on, Daniel had realized that he couldn't keep Jack out, that he needed the offered friendship to stay grounded.
The rejection from Jack had to hurt Daniel terribly, hence Janet's desire to teach the Colonel some manners.
"I'm going to explain everything, Jack. I promised this already. But not here!" Daniel said with a pointed look towards one of the security cameras.
He and Jack continued to exchange glares across the infirmary and Janet was happy that none of the nurses was present at the moment. Coming to a quick decision, she announced:
"We'll be meeting at my house tonight. Daniel can give you your explanation then, Colonel."
Jack looked at the Doctor with a mix of surprise and apprehension. He hadn't missed that Janet wasn't happy with him at the moment, a situation better avoided under normal circumstances.
"What about Cassie?"
It was Sam who gave this objection, a reasonable one, but Janet knew that this point wasn't a concern tonight:
"She is at a sleep-over with a friend tonight. So, we will be undisturbed."
"And even if she was home, it wouldn't be a problem." Daniel added absently. Janet immediately turned a hard look towards him.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you should be more careful with your reports." Daniel replied with an wicked smile, his fight with Jack momentary repressed "Cassie is a very curious girl."
"She read them!?!"
"I don't know Jan. All I know is that one day she came to me asking my help with a history quiz. Her line of reasoning was that since I had been there I should know what had really been going on."
Janet groaned and even Jack chuckled before he remembered that he was mad and Daniel, therefore mad at Janet by default and therefore shouldn't laugh at any jokes. Even if Janet's dismayed face was pretty funny.
"How the hell did she get her hands on one of my reports?"
"I personally think she hacked your computer." Daniel replied, still smirking "She had to practise the skills Sam taught her somewhere, didn't she?"
Janet turned to glare at Sam who held her hands up in a gesture of mock surrender.
"I plead the fifth!"
Sadly the jovial mood didn't last and the gloom that had held the team captive since they had come back, returned. Quickly Janet set out to check up on the members of SG-1 while sending Daniel off to go get a new shirt. The one he wore wasn't salvageable any more. Daniel smiled sadly at her when he went.
The medical was over quickly as none of the team suffered anything more serious than slight sleep withdrawal. The briefing took a while longer. General Hammond knew that something was up, but none of the team talked. They had gotten their stories straight on the walk to the Stargate and now they were sticking to it. It was frustrating the hell out of the General, but in the end there was nothing he could do. So he sent the team home in the hope they would be more talkative after two days leave. He also hoped that two days outside the mountain would give Jack and Daniel time to clear their differences. One would have to be blind not to see that there was a conflict brewing between the two close friends.
So Jack, Daniel and Sam left the base with the intention to meet up with Janet and Teal'c tonight at seven.
*********************
Daniel left his apartment building in the evening, still trying to come up with a way to explain everything to Jack and Sam. Why was this so hard? At least they already knew the hard facts.
//And haven't taken them too well//, he thought cynical.
He really hated these kind of explanations. Most of all with Sam who probably would want a scientific explanation for it all at some point tonight. He couldn't give her one, and he doubted that there even was one. Some things just were and that included Immortals.
At least Janet was there; she could help with the explanations.
Walking through a back alley to the place where his car was parked Daniel suddenly felt an immortal presence wash over him and groaned. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with Chel on top of everything else that had happened today, even if it would have been a fitting continuation of his bad luck.
In the middle of the thought Daniel frowned. That wasn't Chel's Quickening, it was way to weak and unfocused.
To recognize the age of an Immortal from his or her Quickening wasn't all that difficult. If nothing else, one could measure it on the amount of headache the others Quickening caused.
To read a Quickening was a skill that came with age and experience. A few older ones had sometimes the additional ability to focus their power, to hide the amount of Quickening-energy running through them, making themselves less likely targets for Headhunters. But they would always recognize each other. The sheer power of age, of lived eons, left a feel of power that couldn't be hidden from those who knew what to look for.
The Quickening Daniel now felt was most definitely not Chel's. It lacked the calm, steady strength of age that was distinctive for an Immortal of Chel's age. There was power in the unknowns Quickening, no mistake there, but it were the flowing, restless currents of gained Quickenings.
This information told Daniel several things: One, the Immortal was relatively young. Two, he or she had taken many heads already. So either he or she was a preferred target to hunters and had had the luck of surviving until now, or he or she was a hunter.
Considering his luck today, Daniel tended towards the second option. What had he done to piss off the fates that he deserved such a day?
Before Daniel had the chance to decide if he should simply run or not, a man stepped into view, sword already in hand. Daniel cast a quick look around, being arrested for wielding dangerous weapons in public really was something he really didn't need, but they were alone. No passer-bys and even the windows of the apartment building were all dark.
"What do you want?" Daniel asked the man in front of him impatiently while drawing his own sword. The younger snarled back:
"I'm looking for the murderer of my teacher, Michael Sole. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this?"
Daniel favoured the youngster with a steady, superior glare. He knew that this look could make nearly anyone nervous if they had a measure of self-preservation and common-sense left. Neither seemed to apply to the young man in front of him who just glared back.
"Well, I don't know anything about a murder but I won when Mr Sole challenged me."
"So you are the one who killed him."
Daniel just shrugged. He hadn't even known the young one for a minute and already the guy was grating at his nerves. Under normal circumstances only amoebic-brained idiots like Kinsey were able to do this.
"He challenged. We fought. I won. This is the way of immortal life, kid."
"Then I challenge you!" the younger Immortal exclaimed, raising his sword into attack position and glaring at Daniel whose own look reigned at arctic temperatures.
"Don't be a fool, kid!"
"I'm not a kid!"
//Yes of course, you are so mature//, Daniel thought sarcastically just to realize in the next instance:
//Damn! I've been hanging around Jack too long//
"Do you really think you are so much better than your teacher?" Daniel asked, still trying to make the younger man see sense. He wasn't in the mood for a fight. The other Immortal just continued glaring and said with the pitiful attempted of a sneer:
"You won't be lucky a second time."
Daniel stared. He hadn't encountered such overrated self-assurance since the last run-in with Apophis. Loyalty to ones teacher was something laudable, but to go after someone who had bested ones mentor was nothing short of suicide. Such kind of revenge had to be planned out, not committed with hotheaded fury.
Daniel's estimation of the Immortal in front of him (and Michael Sole's teaching skills) dropped again into regions beyond absolute zero.
"What makes you think that luck had anything to do with it?"
The younger man snorted in disdain (not nearly as good as Chel could pull it off) and said:
"As if such a geek like you could win against a warrior without luck."
Okay, that was it. Diplomacy and avoidance of violence be damned. If Daniel hated one thing, then it was people thinking he was unable to fight just because he preferred learning to fighting. He had had a way too stressful day to let a little upstart who most probably hadn't seen his first century yet ridicule him.
"Challenge accepted." Daniel said in a very cold and even tone of voice. Had the youngster known him, he would have realized that he was in deep, deep trouble. But the young Immortal didn't know what he was dealing with and obviously lacked the common sense to realize it.
"Steven Magan" the youngster introduced himself. Daniel looked at him with all the arrogance he could muster (and he could muster a lot). In the spur of the moment he introduced himself as:
"Da'yell"
With satisfaction Daniel noted that Magan looked startled at this. So he had enough intelligence to recognize and ancient name. And old names most of the time indicated old age. Sadly, Magan wasn't impressed very long. Formalities out of the way, he attacked with fury but without much skill. It took Daniel about ten minutes to disarm his opponent. Holding the blade of his sword to the younger Immortals throat he said:
"Yield! Stop this farce here and now and walk away!"
Magan's eyes were practically glowing with hatred as he answered:
"Never!"
The younger man lunged forward and Daniel realised in the last minute that he was holding a knife. Jumping back he avoided a graver injury other than a shallow gash over his stomach. Not a bad trick to use in a desperate situation. In fact, Daniel himself had used it more than once when he had been cornered.
Magan gathered his sword up quickly and went at it again. Daniel had had enough. He had never had much patience for this kind of fanaticism.
A few minutes later the storm of a released Quickening raged with Daniel in its centre. The Quickening wasn't that strong, but wild, a sign that it consisted of many different ones. So, Steven Magan had been a hunter.
The storm subsided and Daniel found himself kneeling on the earth, leaning heavily on his sword. He needed a few minutes to get his breath back. He hated this and loved it at the same time: This mix of pain and exhilaration, of bone deep exhaustion and the feeling of coursing energy.
Standing up slowly, still recovering from the experience, Daniel looked down at his tattered shirt. He would have to change before going over to Janet. Damn it, he was already late and his awaiting audience wouldn't take any delay too kindly.
Walking back to his apartment building he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. The feeling of another presence was washing over him again.
Turning around, he discovered Chel standing at the next corner, observing him. Daniel could feel his body start shaking, partly in reaction to the Quickening he had just received and partly because of very real fear. He wasn't sure if he would be able to fight against someone as good and experienced as Chel right now. This was his adversaries chance to finally extract his revenge.
For an incredibly long moment the two of them just looked at each other, one set of eyes blue and fearful the other one brown and strangely devoid of emotion. Finally, it was Chel who broke the look, turned around and just walked away. Daniel stared after him, confusion raging in his mind. For the first time in millennia Chel had not taken the chance of a fight with Daniel. Never had ever missed an opportunity to try to get his revenge.
What was going on? Could it be…?
Daniel closed his eyes tightly. He refused to let the hope that had started to stir inside him get stronger. Not after all those years. He just wasn't up for the disappointment.
Walking over to his building Daniel debated internally if he should give Janet a call to inform her that he would be late, but in the end he decided against it. The others should be able to wait for him for a few minutes without going into panic.
*********************
Sam and Jack arrived a bit early at Janet's to find Teal'c already waiting. Janet had, with some excuse or another, managed to get the Jaffa off base.
Much to the disappointment of both Sam and Jack, Janet refused to tell them anything she knew before Daniel was there. They wanted an explanation about his abilities? They should wait until he could tell them himself.
So, now they were waiting for the main reason of there little get-together to arrive. The mood was still tense, Jack still clearly angry with Daniel, Janet and Teal'c angry with Jack for being angry with Daniel and Sam caught in the middle of it. Janet wasn't helping matters any by looking to the clock every few minutes and being very obviously nervous about something.
When the clock showed that Daniel was more than half an hour late, Jack finally chose to comment:
"You think he hightailed it."
The sarcasm was harsh in his voice, but for those who knew the Colonel well enough a bit of bitter disappointment was also evident. Janet decided to ignore the latter and turned to glare at Jack. Her patented glare that would turn even the meanest soldier into a frightened kitten. Jack looked away. No one was immune to Janet's glare, not even Colonel O'Neill.
"No, I don't think he hightailed it, Colonel. What reason could he have to?"
"Well, he didn't seem too happy at the prospect of giving us a few explanations." Jack mumbled, not looking at Janet. Better not to agitate her further, his next medical wasn't that far away.
"Judging by the way you are behaving, Colonel" was Janet's cold answer "I can understand his reluctance."
This shut Jack up pretty fast. The uncomfortable silence stretched for a few minutes before Sam asked:
"Then where is he? We all know that Daniel isn't the most punctual person but forty-five minutes is pushing it even for him."
Janet sighed deeply.
"I wish I knew. I hope it is just something like a broken down car that is keeping him and not…"
"What?" Jack propped, trying to hide his own growing concern. He wasn't supposed to be concerned, damn it. He was mad at Daniel!
Janet didn't look at anyone specifically in the room when she answered:
"The term 'Immortal' is a bit misleading. They can be injured and even killed permanently and some of them are doing their best to keep proving this fact. And with this man after Daniel… well, I worry."
"What do you mean? Who is after Daniel?" asked Sam with growing worry "Has this something to do with the man the Colonel and I saw stalking Daniel?"
Janet nodded.
"In a way, yes. The man you saw was another Immortal. From the bits and pieces Daniel told me I know that this guy wants to kill him."
"What?!" Sam and Jack exclaimed shocked. Teal'c raised his eyebrows high, which could be counted as an equal reaction.
"Heaven sake, why?" Jack asked in addition. Janet shrugged.
"I don't know. All I know is that it has something to do with something that happened a very long time ago. But Daniel isn't talking. And believe me, it is easier to make stones bleed than to get Daniel to tell you about something he doesn't want to talk about."
The others had to agree with this assessment. Some might complain that Daniel Jackson talked too much, but the man was a master when it came to talking without saying anything; at least not anything personal. It was a fact that had frustrated the hell out of Jack on more than one occasion.
Further speculation was cut short by Daniels arrival. Jack sent a glare in his direction when he walked, one that Daniel returned with equal coldness. But none of the present people could ignore that Daniel didn't look so good. His breath was going faster than usual and there was a restlessness and abruptness in his motions that wasn't normal. One had to be blind not to see that something had happened.
"Daniel?" Janet asked carefully, recognizing the after-effects of a Quickening "Did something happen?"
She remembered her talk with Daniel about this old friend of his. If she wasn't completely wrong, Daniel didn't want to fight or even kill this man. Now he was showing signs that he had taken a Quickening not so long ago, one that hadn't had time to settle yet. Not very good signs at all.
Daniel's self-mocking laugh was proof enough for the dark mood he was currently in.
"Not much. I had a run-in with a wanne-be Headhunter who suffered the delusion that he had to avenge his teacher and could win against me. Oh, and Chel is still lurking around, doing his best to freak me out. But other than that? Nothing happened."
//Why do I get the feeling// Janet thought //that he is making fun of me? //
"So there was a fight. I'll take it you won?"
"I'm still here, aren't I?"
Daniel's answer was still heavily laced with irony. This was the moment Jack decided that he should interrupt before the two drifted further into a conversation he didn't understand one word of.
"Stop! Time out! What are you guys talking about?"
Not only Jack looked rather confused, Sam too had obviously lost the plot. Teal'c just looked concerned, or as concerned as he would ever look.
Daniel looked at the other members of his team as if realizing for the first time that he had an audience. He leant back in his armchair, closing his eyes for a minute in an attempt to calm his still over-stimulated nerves down. When he opened his eyes again he saw that he had everyone's attention.
"What Janet and I are talking about is that I was in a fight with another Immortal, which is the reason I'm late, by the way."
"Why would you fight with another like you?" Sam interrupted, all curiosity.
"The Quickening."
Reviving mostly blank looks around (Janet and Teal'c knowing what he was talking about) Daniel decided that he should elaborate:
"The Quickening is hard to explain. It is, for the lack of better words, an Immortals life-energy. I know that sounds pretty corny, but I don't know how else to explain it. It is what makes us immortal, the very essence of our being.
When Immortals kill each other the Quickening from the looser is transferred to the winner. Receiving a quickening is an incredible head rush. In a matter of minutes you get all the memories, the personality, the power, everything from the other."
"Wow!"
Jack's involuntary comment was rather fitting, thought Daniel with a hidden smile.
"Yes, wow. It's enthralling and terrorizing, exhilarating and agonizing, it's confusing beyond words and still lets you see the world sharper than ever before, and all at the same time. If one doesn't have a strong sense of self a Quickening can take you over. And the older the Immortal was the harder the Quickening will settle."
"You sound as if you had very detailed experience with this."
Jack's voice sounded wary and Daniel couldn't really fault him for it. He wasn't an idiot and had surely made the connection by now. Jack obviously wasn't thrilled about finding out that his friend had killed. Daniel smiled sadly and answered:
"I have, Jack. I couldn't have survived this long without partaking in the fighting. And this brings me right back to the topic: the Game. Sanctioned killing and the second reason why Immortals prey on each other. I have absolutely no clue how this madness got started but it goes like this: In the end, there can only be one, and this one gets the prize. To make the whole thing even more senseless, no one has any idea what this prize is going to be."
Bitterness and irony battled each other in Daniel's voice. Jack and Sam looked at him aghast. Finally Jack spoke:
"Let me get this straight. There is a secret society of people out there who have the potential to live for ever, and they have nothing better to do than killing each other?"
"Yes, that about sums it up."
"Forgive me if I'm blunt, Daniel, but this is mad."
"I couldn't agree more, Jack."
Jack looked a bit startled at Daniel's answer. He obviously hadn't expected him to share his opinion on Immortal life-styles.
"You mean you always have to look over your shoulder in fear that another Immortal comes after you?"
Sam sounded somewhat disbelieving at the prospect and Daniel could understand her. He sometimes wished he could meet the person who started this folly so that he could explain his point of view on the game. Preferably with his sword.
"It isn't this bad. Not every Immortal partakes in the Game like this, most of us are actually quite happy to live and let live. Another helpful detail is that we can sense each other's Quickening, kind of an early warning system that another of our kind is close. And there are certain rules to the Game."
"So you don't just slaughter each other, you do it organized. Sweet."
Jack's sarcastic comment made Sam (and Janet) look at him scandalized, but Daniel laughed out loud:
"You got it in one, Jack."
"What kinds of rules are there?" Sam asked when she had recovered from her surprise. Daniel answered in an overly serious tone of voice:
"The fights are one on one. No fighting on holy ground. There can only be one."
A slightly mocking smile appeared on Daniel's face as he continued:
"Nice, clear and to the point even if it is known that the first rule has been bent considerably sometimes."
"What about the second one?"
Sam was clearly getting curious. A morbid fascination for this Game had taken hold of her.
"This is the one rule not even the worst of us dare to break. The last time someone did a volcano erupted and buried the whole city in which they had been fighting."
"And which city was this? And when?"
"Pompeii, 79 AC."
Sam stayed silent, thinking. That was something she hadn't expected. She could understand why Immortals would be reluctant to fight on holy ground after this. It was most probably just a coincident but why risk it?
"And you were fighting before you got here, weren't you?" Jack said in an attempt to get the conversation back to the original topic. Daniel nodded.
"Yes, I was. I normally try to avoid fights, but sometimes there is no choice."
"Whom were you fighting with, anyway?" Janet asked interested. She was his watcher after all, so she should know these things.
"He introduced himself as Steven Magan, student of the late Michael Sole. I don't think he was more than one hundred, most likely less."
"Michael Sole?" Janet asked, "Wasn't that the Head-hunter who challenged you?"
"Yes, exactly."
A wicked smile suddenly appeared on Daniel's face.
"I give you a detailed report later, for you to send. I'm pretty sure Mr Magan had a watcher. Would be interesting to see how he saw our little fight."
"Stop!" Jack interrupted, "This is getting more confusing by the minute. I have to questions here. What does Janet got to do with this all and what the hell is a Watcher?"
"Well" Daniel said with true mischief "I could answer this question, but I think it's Janet's turn to do some explanations."
During the last part of this statement Daniel had turned towards Janet with the most innocent little-boy look that was possible. She glared at him, completely unimpressed by his angel-like expression. After a minute she sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she couldn't win this staring contest.
"Okay, the Watchers are a secret organization built to document the lives of Immortals. The prime rule is to only watch and never to interfere. Immortals aren't even supposed to be aware of our organisation."
"Our organisation?" Sam enquired, her voice full of suspicion. Janet smiled ruefully in her direction.
"Yes, our. I am a Watcher, too. Assigned to Daniel to be exact."
"But" interrupted Jack, looking puzzled, "Danny obviously knows about your second job. Why is that?"
"I think Daniel could answer this question better than me."
Daniel and Janet looked at each other pointedly for a moment, before Daniel started to talk again:
"I've been around since before the Watchers were founded and let's say, the first one who tried to trail me was… a bit clumsy at it. Needless to say that I wasn't exactly happy about being stalked. But since I wanted to know why he was following me around like a lost puppy I asked him."
"You just asked him?"
Jack's doubt about the truth of Daniel's statement was clear to hear. Daniel smiled sweetly at him.
"Of course not, I had to be subtle. I got him drunk out of his skull and then I asked him. He was very generous with his information."
Everyone stared at Daniel for a second or two before Jack erupted into loud laughter.
"Okay, this I can believe. So, Janet knew from the very beginning what you were?"
"Yes, thankfully. I don't know if I could have stayed hidden without her help."
Seeing the questioning looks around Daniel elaborated:
"You've seen yourself how fast injuries heal for me. The same goes for any kind of illness. I may get infected with an illness, but before it can show any virus is long beaten down. Janet tells me that I have some very interesting anti-bodies in my blood-work. Trying to explain this during all this check-ups we go through could have gotten a bit problematic."
"So, you never get ill, either?" Sam asked "Then what about your allergies?"
This innocent question had interesting results: Janet started chuckling and Daniel's cheeks turned into an interesting shade of red. He mumbled something unintelligible and Jack asked:
"What was this?"
"I think" Janet said with a cheeky smile on her lips "what Daniel was trying to say was that he is the only known immortal with psychosomatic allergies ever."
"Psychosomatic as in imagined?"
Daniel snorted at Jack's words.
"They're real enough for me. I have no idea where they come from. I shouldn't be able to react like this; my immune-system simply doesn't work this way. At least the allergies have gotten better."
Daniel's grumbling admission was met by warring degrees of amusement from his friends. His allergies had always somehow completed the picture of the typical absently minded professor. Finally, after a few moments Jack tried to get the conversation back to the topic:
"Okay, but all this still doesn't explain how you found out that Janet belongs to this watcher-bunch."
"The tattoo" was Daniel's simple answer as if this would explain everything. Sam couldn't help but ask:
"What tattoo?"
Janet pulled up the sleeve of her shirt and showed her wrist.
"This one. Remember how the Colonel asked if this was the mark of some sect? Well it actually is, in a way. For some archaic reason nearly every watcher wears this."
"This sounds more barbaric every second." Jack mumbled and was rather surprised about Daniel's equally silent answer.
"You don't know the half of it, Jack. Be happy about it."
"Have you ever tried to stop being part of the game?"
Daniel laughed hollowly at Sam's question.
"If it was this easy the Game wouldn't exist for lack of players. You're either part of it, or you're dead."
"Daniel!"
"I know" Daniel answered Janet's shocked interruption "I'm a cynic. But don't you think I tried my best to stay out of it and still over-eager idiots like Mr Magan come after me. Not everyone is able to spend centuries holed up on holy ground."
Everyone was silent after Daniel's bitter words. Sam started to really understand what Daniel had meant when he said that Immortality was a curse.
"Is there no safe place for you?"
"Like I said, holy-ground is our sanctuary. And this rule includes every faith. So holy ground can be a Christian monastery, a Native-America burial-place or simply a blessed piece of land. When it's considered holy by someone it is safe. It is good when you need a break from life now and then, but I'm not cut out to stay there."
A slight blush crept up on Daniel's face.
"I mean I can spent years in a good library, doing research, but at one point I want to go out again, live again. I know that some Immortals spent their whole existence on holy ground, but even this doesn't keep them safe nowadays."
The last bit was said with a not-so-subtle glare at Janet's direction.
"You're never going to forgive this, are you?"
Daniel shook his head, his expression grim.
"The act itself? Perhaps I could come to understand it. But the fact that the Watchers tried to cover it up? That they didn't stop this bastard? No, sorry, these are things I won't forgive. He didn't even have the decency to go after those who were dangerous."
"For Horton they were." Janet said in a matter of fact tone of voice. Daniel just glared at her:
"Horton was a maniac with a hard case of schizophrenic paranoia who should never had even access to the job he did. Forgive me if I say this, Jan, but I hope this bastard rots in hell."
"Oh for crying out loud, are you doing this on purpose!"
Jack's loud exclamation caught Daniel and Janet both off guard and they turned puzzled looks to him. Seeing that they really didn't understand Jack explained:
"You start going off on a tangent, talking about something you know exactly only you two understand."
Janet had the grace to look guilty but Daniel did not. He continued to look angry. After a moment Sam dared to ask:
"So… what were you talking about?"
"Some time ago a Watcher snapped." Daniel stated "After long reflections about the nature of immortality he came to the conclusion that all Immortals were dangerous and that we wanted to take over the world thus endangering his beautiful life. Deciding that the best way to stop the evil that called itself Immortals was to kill them all and with great practical consideration he and his loyal cronies went first after those who wouldn't put up much of a fight. Those who just wanted to live a quite life and never really bothered anyone. And one of his victims was Darius."
The last part was said as if it should explain all. Sadly, it didn't for most people present, but they could understand Daniel's anger. From what they had gathered, the life of an Immortal was hazardous enough but with a crazed mortal around who actually knew how to end their life permanently? No good prospects.
Deciding that someone should explain the significance of Darius, Janet said:
"You see, Darius is kind of a legend. He was a general, a warlord even mighty Rom feared. Then, one day, he just stopped. The general became a priest and never touched a sword again. Legend says that it is because he took a Quickening outside the doors of Paris and that it changed him."
"A Quickening can do that?" Sam asked aghast. She looked over at Daniel while the implications of the statement ran through her mind. Could her friend change like this, too? And who said that it would be for the better.
"Yes, it can." Daniel answered her question solemnly "It mostly happens to younger Immortals if they kill someone way older, but it seldom happens in the magnitude as it happened to Darius. Mostly, it changes little things: personal quirks, certain like and dislikes, not the whole character. But I told you, one needs a strong sense of self to weather a strong Quickening completely unchanged."
"So Darius wasn't strong enough in his identity?"
"No. The Quickening he took was too strong, the Immortal he killed too old. As far as I know, and I only know what Darius told me, the Immortal he killed was several millennia old while Darius himself wasn't even four hundred. And there was something special about the Quickening, but we have never been able to truly figure it out.
What is important in the end is that Darius turned from a military general, someone who practically lived war, into a pacifist. He really believed in peace and that humanity someday would wise up. And Horton killed him in his church. The same place he had been safe in for so many years. The only consolation is that Horton made a few very dangerous enemies by this stunt."
"This Darius, he was a friend of yours, wasn't he?" Jack asked carefully. A wistful smile showed on Daniel's face when he said:
"Yes, he was. We started out as enemies though. I wasn't exactly happy with him when he and his little war band disturbed my quite, studious life in Greece. Then, I met him again in Paris after his little enlightment. We talked and resolved some of our differences. With time we became friends. I actually admired his strength. For the rest of his life he helped people but stayed true to his vow to never take a sword again. I don't think I could do this."
Daniel trailed off, a faraway look in his eyes.
"Do what?" Sam asked, startling Daniel out of his thoughts.
"Standing back when I could help. Don't get me wrong, he did help in his way, but I have to do something."
"Like now?"
Daniel looked uncertainly over at Jack who had spoken.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you said that you are worried about the military exposing you. So, why stay?"
For the first time Daniel noticed that Jack sounded calmer and more rational than he had the whole evening. This was for several reasons. Jack had had some time to think about what Daniel had told him and what not. He had started to understand. To understand why Daniel had never spoken a word about being Immortal. From his tale the age-old dream of eternal youth and invulnerability turned, for those who had achieved it, into a nightmare. What would it be like, to see time go by, see people be born and die, but remain unchanged? To always be on the outside looking in to a certain degree? What must it have been like for Danny to loose everyone to time, even those who were supposed to remain?
When Jack finally realized all this his feelings of betrayal had vanished pretty fast. All that remained was the understanding how much it must have cost Daniel to let him in, to forge a friendship with a mortal.
In the end only one thing was important to Jack: Daniel was still his friend, however old he was, one of the best friends he had ever had. There was no real reason to loose this friendship. None at all.
Daniel still looked at Jack searchingly and seemed to like what he found. A small, grateful smile graced his features. Jack returned the smile cheekily.
"You're right. At first I stayed because it was a way to do something against the Goa'uld. Recently, other things came up."
"Other things? Come on Danny tell us! I'm interested now."
"It has to do with what Nem did to me." Daniel stated and noted the subtle flinch from Jack and Sam. They weren't still feeling guilty for leaving him behind, were they?
"When he combed through my memories to find what he was looking for he opened a few doors that I hadn't even realized were closed much less existed. You see, until then I could remember about two thousand years of my live, everything before this point was just a great blank. I always thought that it had been the shock of first-death that made me forget my previous life, despite the evidence that there was more to it. Well, I was wrong. Thanks to Nem I suddenly started to remember the other four millennia of my existence."
"So, that's why you have been behaving so freaky after that!" Jack exclaimed. Daniel looked at him doubtfully:
"Freaky?"
"Well, more than usual."
Daniel glared at Jack for a moment, but without any malice behind it, before he started to chuckle quietly. It felt good that Jack felt comfortable enough again to tease him.
"What have your returned memories to do with you staying with the SGC?" Sam finally asked, trying to get Daniel back on track. They were loosing the topic quite often in this conversation. Daniel smiled sweetly at her:
"Try to figure it out Sam. When were the Goa'uld on earth? And how old am I?"
Sam looked at her friend in annoyance. She didn't like this kind of guessing-game, but she did what he asked. Seconds later her eyes widened when she got to the obvious conclusion. Could this be?
"You… you mean… you experienced the Goa'uld occupation?"
Daniel nodded, his eyes taking a far away look for a short moment. Janet and Teal'c stole concerned glances at the Immortal, knowing that Daniel's experiences with the Goa'uld were anything but good.
"I wasn't about to give them any chance to get back after I fought so hard to get them off it."
"You fought them?" Jack asked partly astonished but he immediately returned to his common sarcasm:
"What am I saying, of course you fought them. You had to train your damned snake-baiting abilities somewhere."
Daniel grinned at his friend. He knew that Jack really hated it when he went and riled up every Goa'uld they met even if he secretly agreed with every word he said.
"Yes, I worked against the Goa'uld as best as I was able to back then. Mind you, I was more in a position of information gathering than actual fighting…"
Daniel trailed off and closed his eyes shortly. Memories started to well up inside him.
"Come on Danny, tell us! What were you doing against earth's snake infestation?"
Daniel looked up and his friends noticed the glazed look in his eyes. Janet immediately recognized it as a sign that her Immortal was getting caught up in his memories.
With an even, calm voice Daniel started to tell his tale:
"Right from the beginning I wanted to do something against these so-called gods that had wiped out my tribe, but I didn't know how or what to do until…
#####################
Da'yell kneeled on the smooth floor of the Tel'tac and listened attentively to Thoth's rant about Ra and unimportant jobs. In between the scathing critique of Ra's sense of priorities there were bits of important information.
The reason for Thoth's momentary foul mood was that Ra had contacted him and ordered him to take care of some administrative work and reinforce the presence of the gods while he was there. At least Da'yell was almost sure that this was the gist of it, the Goa'uld seamed to have real problems giving a clear statement if they weren't in a really dire situation.
The problem consisted of a quarry not far away from Thoth's permanent residence. Rumours of a revolt were spreading from there while at the same time the production was at the bottom of average. Reason enough, at least from Ra's reasoning, for one of the gods to show up and see what was going on. Thoth's opinion about the importance of this single quarry differed from Ra's. He hadn't been happy in the aftermath of Ra's call.
//Not happy at all//, Da'yell thought with a slight shiver.
Now, they were on their way to the quarry. Thoth would have a talk with the overseer and generally make a big show of his godhood. The normal approach with the Goa'uld.
Da'yell himself would have something to do on this mission to: he was supposed to talk to the local scribes in an attempt to find out whatever the overseer wouldn't tell Thoth. Da'yell felt a bit strange with the role he would assume. For a short time he wouldn't be a simple slave, no he would be an official representative of Thoth, great god of wisdom and writing. For a few short hours he would get respect and fear, only to go back to be a lowly slave again.
It wasn't the first time that Da'yell would play the role. For every outsider it appeared as if he had been promoted in rank from a slave to the personal assistant of Thoth. It was true that Da'yell sometimes took over the duties that would come with such a position but in realty he held none of the privileges. Thoth's behaviour towards his slave was two-sided and unstable. On the one hand he had taught and trained him on the other he still treated him the worst he could. Da'yell had stopped being confused a long time ago and had resigned himself to his fate. Which didn't mean that he accepted it any more than the first day of his enslavement.
"I expect that you will bring results, do you understand?" Thoth asked haughtily, stopping his pacing to stand right in front of Da'yell who still knelt on the floor, eyes cast down. With a quiet voice he answered:
"Yes master"
Thoth regarded Da'yell with a cold arrogant look before he turned around and left the cabin. Da'yell let out a silent sigh of relief as soon as Thoth was out of sight. He knew that they would reach they destination soon.
The landing went as smoothly as expected. Da'yell kept in the background, doing his best to be invisible while Thoth walked down the ramp with all arrogance and pride one associated with a god. Two Jaffa walked in front of Thoth, guarding their god. Da'yell left the Tel'tac a few moments later, trying to appear confident and not to show how his stomach was cramping with apprehension.
The glaring midday sun blinded him momentarily as he stepped out of the shadows of the Tel'tac. The heat hit him like a wall and it took him a moment to get used to it as well. As soon as his eyes had gotten used to the bright light he looked around. The quarry spread out before him. It was larger than he had thought. The white stone that was quarried here reflected the harsh sunlight and made it painful to look at it too long. Everywhere he looked Da'yell could see people working.
The overseer, whom Da'yell knew was a minor Goa'uld, greeted Thoth with a mix of overloaded pomp and sickening submission. Da'yell only listened with half an ear to the assurances how big an honour it was to have Lord Thoth visiting. The overseer was most probably wracking his brain what he had done to warrant a visit of such an important personality.
One of the Jaffas stepped to Da'yell, his big form towering over him. His guard. More to make sure that Da'yell didn't use the opportunity to flee instead of protecting him. Glancing sideways at the Jaffa, Da'yell let out a relieved sigh as he recognized Jahi. At least he wouldn't have to fear his guard today.
Jahi was one of Thoth's Jaffa, but unlike many others he hadn't stopped thinking for himself, hadn't stopped seeing what was going on. For him, the belief in the Goa'uld as gods, hadn't survived some harsh truths. He and Da'yell had formed some sort of friendship born out of the common dislike towards the Goa'uld. A friendship that was some days the only hold for Da'yell's sanity.
Always keeping a wary eye on Thoth and the overseer Da'yell took a good look around.
On the first look everything seemed as if the production was going smoothly but a closer look showed little discrepancies. The workers looked thin and drawn despite the muscular built that was natural in this kind of work. Many of the men carried long, narrow scars on their backs: whip marks. Some men, the older ones obviously, were walking around with water skins, giving the workers something to drink whenever they passed. But there were only very few such water-carrier. //Too few//, Da'yell thought as he took in the scene. The labourers, working without protection under the hot dessert sun must have been constantly thirsty. The few looks towards them that Da'yell could see, for most men averted their eyes very fast, were alight with fear and a deep, deep loathing. Perhaps Ra was right after all: the seeds for a revolt were there without any doubt.
Thoth and the overseer walked towards a small building were refreshments had been prepared. Da'yell looked longingly towards the shade the building offered. He could feel the effects of the merciless sun on his exposed skin already, but he knew Thoth wanted him to do his assignment as soon as possible.
"Well, shall we get going?" Da'yell asked turning to Jahi. The typical armoured mask now hid the Jaffa's face, but nevertheless Da'yell could detect a small nod from him.
Walking the way to the scribes' quarters Da'yell continued to observe the people around him. He noticed the workers shying away from him and his companion and the hateful looks they sent towards them when they thought Da'yell wasn't looking. A distinctly bad feeling started to settle in his stomach as he walked on. He could practically feel the tension around him.
*********************
His little investigation hadn't uncovered anything Da'yell hadn't suspected beforehand, but it was nice to have some kind of proof for his feelings. It was pretty simple actually: the overseer, in his attempt to get as much money as possible for himself out of this was saving at the wrong places which wasn't only proving counter-productive now, but was also breeding resentment from the workers. Until now the fear of the supposed god's and the overseer had kept the people from trying anything but this kind of thing wouldn't work much longer. If they felt that that they had nothing left to loose not even fear would keep these abused people from rebelling against their masters.
Da'yell walked slowly and deep in thought through the quarry on his way back to the Tel'tac. Jahi was walking at his shoulder, being his menacing self, but Da'yell didn't even notice the Jaffa's presence. He was trying to think of the best way to tell Thoth what he had found out. He wasn't concerned that the Goa'uld wouldn't trust his observations. Da'yell knew that Thoth would believe his assessment of the situation, what had him worried was the possible course of action the god might choose. Thoth was unpredictable like a desert-storm sometimes and about as destructive.
Suddenly Da'yell stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening with surprise. A feeling was washing over him, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a very long time. Could it be? Was it possible that…?
"Can you wait here for a moment?" Da'yell asked turning to Jahi. The Jaffa wasn't very happy about this, after all he was supposed to guard Da'yell but he had enough trust in him not to use the opportunity and run. Jahi gave a short, nearly undetectable nod, which Da'yell answered with a thankful smile.
Leaving the Jaffa behind Da'yell started to follow the feeling that indicated another of his kind. He was hoping against hope to find him again.
Making his way around some rocks he finally found a little provisional hut made of wood and palm leaves. A group of man was sitting in the meagre shade this shack, talking. The moment Da'yell stepped into view all talking stopped abruptly. The men stared at him with a mix of fear and anger, and then surprise joined in on some faces. Da'yell knew these men who looked at him with incredulous recognition. They were of his old tribe, some of the few who had survived the capture.
"Da'yell?"
A wide, happy smile appeared on Da'yell's face as he heard the well-known voice from the back of the hut. A voice he hadn't dared to hope to hear ever again.
"Hello Chel." Da'yell whispered happily as a tall figure stepped into the light. For a long moment the two just stood there, staring at each other. Neither could really believe that the other was there. Then the spell was broken and they where lying in each other's arms.
"I missed you, brother!" Da'yell whispered hoarsely while holding on tight. Chel returned the hug just as desperate.
"And I you."
They held on to each other a moment longer before letting go. Other men had stepped up to them and took now their turn in greeting Da'yell. The Immortal noticed that the few men he had recognized as members of his tribe had grown rather old. The last time he had seen them, they had been young men, some just above boyhood, now Da'yell faced old men. So much time had passed.
"You're a scribe now?" Chel finally asked, taking in Da'yell's clothes, while he led his old friend towards the shade.
"Yes, more or less…"
Before Da'yell could say anything else one of the men snarled accusingly:
"You are the one who came with lord Thoth. I saw you. You're his servant."
"His slave" Da'yell corrected resigned "to be his servant I would have to be in his company of my own free will. Believe me, this is not the case. I'm here, because Thoth didn't want to lower himself to do actual work."
Da'yell's eyes took on a haunted look for a moment while he remembered involuntary some of the occurrences that made his status at Thoth's court clear to him with brutal clarity. Chel noticed the look of his brother and he felt his own heart clench with sympathy.
"These gods are cruel beings." Chel muttered in an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence, which had spread. Da'yell's bitter, mocking laugh startled everyone around him.
"They are no gods!"
The bitterness and loathing in his voce were clear to hear for everyone around. The men looked at him aghast; at least those men who didn't know Da'yell.
"Blasphemy!" One of them whispered fearfully, looking around as if expecting the appearance of one of the offended god's. Da'yell looked at him with a strange mix of pity and annoyance when he said evenly:
"No, simple truth."
The man stared at Daniel open-mouthed. Several of the others didn't look happy either, while the ones who were aware of what Da'yell and Chel were exchanged knowing looks. Da'yell had been the shaman of their tribe for generations and was therefore the authority for spirits, gods and everything else supernatural. If he said, that the gods weren't gods, they weren't gods.
Chel just smiled at his brother:
"At our capture you already said that there were men hiding behind the masks. But what are they, if not gods?"
"Their power seems godlike to me." Someone of the men commented. A deep sigh escaped Da'yell:
"I don't know what exactly they are, I'm not sure if I understand this myself. They are powerful, no doubt there. But their power comes from knowledge that we do not possess. They use our ignorance against us, not magic. Their people are much older than ours, learned so much more, which is why they seem so superior. But in the end they are more dependent on us than we are on them."
"How did you figure all this out?" Chel asked somewhat astonished.
"One of their biggest weaknesses," Da'yell replied smiling "Is their arrogance. They talk in front of me and never suspect that I could really listen. So, it wasn't that hard to learn about them."
Chel was silent for a long moment, obviously thinking about something. Then he asked carefully:
"If I told you, that we were planning to fight these 'gods', would you help?"
Before Da'yell had a chance to give an answer, one of the men hissed angrily for Chel to not tell anything, which earned him a withering glare from Chel. It took Da'yell only seconds to figure out that Chel must have been trying to get people to join his plan, whatever it was, and that the few who had agreed to join were rightfully afraid. Da'yell couldn't even blame them for not trusting him. Many things spoke against him at the moment.
"I would help; and gladly. But how?"
Chel smiled as he detected the determined gleam in Da'yell's eyes.
"We are going to start here with our fight. But not only here. Others will join in. When we are free, we'll continue working against these gods…"
"Goa'uld." Da'yell interrupted "That's what they call themselves."
"Goa'uld" Chel pronounced the foreign word carefully, as if tasting it. His disgusted expression brought a grin on Da'yell's features.
"You still haven't told me how you want to fight the Goa'uld. Fighting them openly would be suicide, and you know it."
"Of course I know it." Chel replied slightly annoyed "We'll fight them like wasps win against the biggest animal."
"Many together" Da'yell mumbled, immediately understanding Chel's train of thought, "One sting is nothing but an annoyance, but many will kill… but how can I help. Whatever you may think, I'm in no position to come and go as I please."
"Perhaps not, brother," Chel retorted "But you already proved that you can get information. You collect knowledge like a child collects pebbles. And you are close to one of the Goa'uld. Information you would gather could be very helpful indeed."
"May be. But how would I get the information to you?"
"There is a man, I trust him, he appears to be one of the Goa'uld himself, but he denies it. He has no problem to come and go without raising suspicions. He will deliver the information"
"Tok'ra" Da'yell whispered, remembering overheard talks with and about Tefnut, Ra's daughter who had started to work against her father (and who was also a major thorn in Thoth's side which made her immensely likeable towards Da'yell even if he usually bore the brunt of Thoth's annoyance). She had founded the little movement of those who worked against the brutal reign of Ra. Cooperation with them could only help breaking the Goa'uld's hold on their homeland.
"How would I recognize him?"
"Don't fret, brother. I'll tell him a phrase that will only mean something to you and me."
"If you think…"
Da'yell didn't manage to end the sentence. Loud, clanging steps could be heard approaching. All colour drained from Da'yell's face. He had spent too much time here. If Thoth had finished his talk with the overseer and found it necessary to send someone to fetch Da'yell there would be hell to pay.
"I have to go" Da'yell said hastily, jumping up to run along, but Chel's strong hand on his arm held him back.
"Look after yourself, Da'yell." Chel said quietly, a sombre expression on his face. Da'yell returned the look with a bittersweet smile on his lips:
"Walk among the spirits grace, my brother"
The old blessing of his childhood came easily over Da'yell's lips. The two friends hugged each other one last time, both somewhat unwilling to let the other go again. But finally Da'yell stepped back and, with one last sad look towards Chel, turned and left.
Jahi was waiting right behind the corner, an unreadable stoic expression on his face.
"Lord Thoth will be finished soon. You'll better be waiting for him when he wants to leave."
Da'yell nodded, relieved and thankful. He walked back to the Tel'tac with a happy smile on his face. He had found his brother again. And he had gotten the chance to fight the Goa'uld. It had turned into a good day after all…
#####################
"… What I didn't know at that time was that it wouldn't work out so well." Daniel ended his story. For a moment no one in the room said anything. Sam's quiet question sounded loud in the silence:
"What happened?"
Daniel didn't answer, just stared at the floor, lost in thought.
"Daniel?"
This time it was Janet who tried to get Daniel's attention. His silence was starting to concern her. So softly that the others nearly didn't understand the words, Daniel finally answered:
"Chel's group was discovered. Everything went to hell after that pretty fast."
"Who is this Chel anyway?" Jack asked, "When you got here you mentioned him, too."
A wistful smile spread over Daniel's features and he said:
"Chel and me were as close friends as it is possible. Back when we met it was highly usually to encounter another Immortal and the Game was still pretty unknown. Together we led our little tribe for generations. We grew close over the years, since we were the only ones remaining unchanged by time. At the end, we were calling each other brother."
"Then what happened? Why does he want to kill you?" Janet enquired. She was still frustrated that she hadn't gotten the reason for this hostility out of Daniel the last time they had talked.
"Like I told you, it all started with a misunderstanding. Chel wants revenge; I want to stay alive. This status quo hasn't changed for a few millennia."
"You mean, this guy has been after you for the last few thousand years? Talk about persistent." Jack commented quietly. Then he remembered something:
"Wait a minute! Was this Chel the guy who broke into your apartment?"
"Yes, he was" Daniel answered calmly. Jack shook his head.
"Well, at least now I know why you were holding your sword when I found you. Is this guy desperate or what?"
"He is angry." Daniel explained calmly, "He thinks I did something unforgivable and he doesn't want me to go unpunished."
"Did you do it?"
Daniel closed his eyes and shook his head:
"No… no, I didn't."
"Well, then we really should see to it this Chel doesn't get you."
Daniel looked up sharply and was faced by a very determined Jack. Why was he getting a feeling of approaching dread all of sudden?
"I can look after myself, Jack."
"Of course. I know that. But that changes nothing about the fact that I want to help you. I don't want to loose you, Danny."
"Me neither." Sam added, looking just as firm as Jack. Daniel alternated his look between them before he resigned himself to his fate. As if he hadn't enough to deal with already, now he had to live with those two in protective-mode.
//I should have left while I had still had the chance// Daniel thought self-mockingly, not really meaning a word of it.
However annoying they were, it felt good to be among friends.
*********************
On the other side of town, in a spacious hotel-room, David Nahb, once upon a time known as Chel, sat in darkness, deep in thought.
He was thinking about the duel he had witnessed today. He had seen from the outsider's point of view how good Da'yell was with a sword. And he had seen Da'yell giving this stupid youngster more chances than he deserved to walk away.
Da'yell had not wanted this fight or the Quickening.
Thinking back to the times when his relationship with Da'yell had still been friendly, Chel had to admit that Da'yell had never been one to go looking for a fight. But he wasn't afraid to defend himself either. He had no reason to, like he had proved today.
In all the years Da'yell had always run from their fights, but until recently Chel had held on to the belief that it was because of cowardice. He should have known better. Da'yell was many things, but he had never been a coward.
When he let himself really think about it many things he had seen about Da'yell seemed somewhat strange.
For years, whenever they had encountered each other Da'yell had acted as if he didn't know Chel at all. He had always looked so confused and frightened. Too much to be an act. Could it be that Da'yell really had forgotten everything? It wasn't such a strange thing to happen among ancient Immortals. Rare, but not unknown. Had he chased a man all this years who couldn't even remember the crime he had committed?
And had he really committed the betrayal Chel accused him of? Da'yell had always denied it, had always pleaded with Chel (when he was remembering him) to listen to him, to let him explain.
Chel had never given him this chance.
At first Chel had been too angry, had felt too betrayed to listen to the man he thought had betrayed his trust.
Later he hadn't let himself think to deeply about it, enraged anew every time he had found Da'yell again. Enraged that Da'yell lived his life as if he hadn't betrayed everything he had believed in.
But had he? Had he really?
Since his latest meetings with Da'yell Chel had to think more and more often about what had happened and the things that just didn't add up. Little things he had never let himself notice, became more and more prominent in his mind:
Da'yell's large terrified eyes as he watched it happen. The iron grip the Jaffa had on Da'yell's shoulders, keeping him from moving. The tears running down his face.
Was he wrong after all? Was Da'yell the one who had betrayed them, or had it been someone else? He hadn't been the only one who had had the chance to do it, and Chel had still trouble thinking of a motive for him to do it.
Had he let himself be fooled by the information that Da'yell was the traitor?
Chel had started to doubt a long time ago if he had been right to blame his brother so fast, he had just never let himself think to deeply about it.
And even if he had been right, even if Da'yell had been the one to betray the resistance, it had happened millennia ago.
Chel himself, who would always admit to his stubbornness, had changed with time. It was impossible not to when the world around you never stopped changing. If one remained the same one would have no chance to survive.
Was it so absurd that Da'yell could have changed, too? More importantly, shouldn't Chel be able to put an end to his own hatred. It had already taken over a good portion of his life.
Doubts weren't something Chel enjoyed. Doubting himself was even less fun.
He lent back and closed his eyes. One single thought came to his mind:
He missed his brother.
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to be continued (of course)