Take a Chance on Me - Chapter 25
Lt. Commander Jonathan O'Neill stepped off the transport plane, under the watchful eye of six burly MP's. "This way, sir." One of the guards directed him towards an armored truck.
"I don't suppose you gentlemen could tell me what this is all about?" He asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. It was the fourth time he had tried the question since he had left the base.
The MP's remained silent and John found himself wending his way up the side of a mountain. It was in the elevator down to the lower levels that John O'Neill realized why he was there. He clenched his fists as he felt a change coming over him. "You have to put the cuffs on." He told the MP's urgently.
"What?"
"Now, dammit! Stop the elevator and put the cuffs on!" He demanded. As the last word escaped his lips, his eyes flashed white. He threw his head back and snarled. Lashing out at the first MP, his fist stopped just centimeters from his face. He shakily put his hand down at his side as the guard behind him pinned his arms behind his back. The doors of the elevator opened and the naval officer was pushed into the waiting arms of a medical team.
"He went crazy in the elevator, Ma'am." One of the guards breathlessly addressed Dr. Frasier. "He demanded that we cuff him, then he struck out to hit Smitty here, but stopped. And maybe it was just me, but I could have sworn I saw his eyes glow."
"Thank you, Sergeant, we'll take it from here. The parasitic infection does tend to create a phosphorescent-like chemical in the body, which may be what you saw in the eyes. Report to Dr. Warner for decontamination instructions before you leave. I don't need to remind you that this is not to be discussed with anyone outside of official channels. Dismissed."
John stood staring at Dr. Frasier until the guards had gone. "I'm under control now."
"Why don't you let me determine that, Commander." She returned. "Follow me." They walked to the infirmary, four orderlies, slightly larger than the MP's that had escorted him from Hawaii followed closely behind.
"May I ask why I'm here?" He inquired as nonchalantly as he could.
Janet watched him closely. "I'll let your uncle brief you on that." She said tersely.
"My uncle? What does he have to do with any of this?" John asked, slightly panicked.
"Col. O'Neill is the 2IC of this facility. He'll be talking to you after your exam."
"But I can already tell you what you'll find. I assume you know about the Goa'uld or I wouldn't be here." He watched her face as he spoke hoping for any indication that she understood what he meant. The change in expression was slight, but he did notice her lips tighten when he mentioned the word Goa'uld. He needed to know what they knew.
He walked into the infirmary and was ushered to a bed. He noticed that another bed on the opposite end was occupied, but the curtain had been pulled around it.
"Commander, if you would." One of the orderlies held out a set of scrubs. "You'll need to remove all metal objects from your body.
John reluctantly complied. He had barely finished pulling on the shirt - the orderlies had *not* given him privacy while doing so - when Janet pulled his curtain back to begin his examination.
"Before I begin the exam," Janet began, "I'd like you to tell me everything you know about how you became a Goa'uld. Sergeant Beher will be recording you."
John held back his temper. Clearly, these people knew what a Goa'uld was, but they didn't understand how one worked. "With all due respect, Doctor, I am not a Goa'uld, at least not in the way that you think. I carry a symbiotic life form that is for all intents and purposes *similar to* a Goa'uld. That said, you should also be informed that I am in complete control over the symbiote. The temporary lapse in the elevator was due to an unexpected increase of an element in this environment. Had I been warned prior to exposure, I would have been able to maintain control. As it was, I regained control before any major harm could be done. I would also like to add that if you intend to give me any sedatives, you will be limiting my ability to maintain control, so I suggest that you have restraints ready, if that is to occur."
"You didn't answer my question." Janet replied testily. "I need to know when and how you became a host."
John sighed in frustration. Sensing that cooperation would be the only way this would work, he answered. "I became a host shortly after I graduated from high school. My mother was a Goa'uld, in the more traditional sense of the word." His lip curled in derision when he said the word mother. "She found a way to genetically manipulate the Goa'uld to have varying degrees of extra-sensory perception. I understand that other Goa'uld have been working with genetics for some time." Dr. Frasier made an indescribable noise in her throat. "She succeeded, but the end result was a larva that was unable to gain complete control over the host body; it could only influence it. Exposure to a material known as Naquadah, which is not found naturally in the Earth's crust, increases the strength of the Goa'uld. Mother implanted the genetically altered Goa'uld into me and I. . . changed."
"Changed in what way?" Colonel O'Neill asked as he stepped from behind the curtain, hands in pockets. Janet chose that moment to step into her office. "Hello, Commander."
John swallowed and paled. "Colonel." He acknowledged. "I became more confident, healthier, and more able to retain information. I had taken an IQ test before implantation and another after. I scored 23 points higher the second time. I grew up with allergies and asthma; they're gone. I can't imagine how I would live without it."
"How did you find out what happened to you? Did you're mother tell you what she was doing?"
John snorted. "If I've spoken more than a dozen sentences to my mother after the age of twelve, I assure you it was entirely by accident, sir. One of my earliest assignments was a primitive field unit. Apparently there were some trace amounts of Naquadah in the area, probably from some remaining Goa'uld artifact, which caused severe migraines. The doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with me because of our limited resources and one of my buddies encouraged me to try some local holistic remedies and meditation. I found that I was able to tap into some of the feelings of the symbiote. I realized that it was trying to assert control and I figured out ways of suppressing it. I practiced enough that I rarely slip and lose control. I wasn't expecting there to be so much Naquadah in the area though. What are you doing here anyway?"
Jack, ignoring the young man's inquiry, creased his brow in thought. "Does it retain the genetic memory of all of the Goa'uld? Can you tap into those memories?"
"Genetic memory?" He asked, surprised. Maybe they did have some experience with the Goa'uld after all. "I have no idea, sir. I've never tried it. I've really just been able to get random images and to piece together what happened to me. I'm still not 100% sure where I end and it begins. If I might ask, sir, how did you know that this happened to me in the first place?"
Jack braced himself. "Your sister is here." He gestured to the closed curtain that surrounded her bed.
John blanched. "This happened to her too?" He asked dryly.
"If you're asking if your mother implanted her with a Goa'uld, the answer is yes. She, however, was not privy to any of the information that you seem to have discovered about the Goa'uld until it took control."
John looked at him with an expression that Jack couldn't quite identify. It was almost a look of relief. "I can help her regain control. She'll be fine if I can talk to her."
"The Goa'uld is gone. It jumped into one of my men. It took all of her memories of the past eight years with it." Jack fought to control his temper. He didn't like losing people, whole or in pieces, especially to the Goa'uld.
This revelation didn't seem to comfort John. If anything, he looked deflated. "So, she's back to the way she was before."
"I don't know what she was like before." Jack said quietly.
John nodded and stared with a sorrowful intensity at Rayne's curtain, as if he could see through it. Jack took the opportunity to study his nephew. Unlike Rayne, he didn't look at all like himself or his brother. His large blue eyes were inherited from Jack's grandmother, a true Minnesotan Swede. The black hair, which, if longer than the standard military cut, would probably be curly, was a trait that the boy's mother also possessed. As for his rather angular features, they strongly resembled Jack's father's. Having inherited his own looks from the Pratt's on his mother's side of the family, he supposed it was nice to see something of his father carried on in the family line.
"May I see her?" John asked, startling Jack out of his reverie.
"I'll have to ask her. She's a bit, well, she's a bit twitchy."
John nodded. "I couldn't help her, you know." John informed him softly. "I tried to, after I joined the military. I couldn't get to her."
"She doesn't blame you. You shouldn't blame yourself either." He said it half-heartedly. He blamed himself enough.
"Are you going to find a way to put the symbiote back?"
Jack stared at him in astonishment. "Why would we even *want* to do that?"
John returned the incredulous look. "It would make her better."
"Better than what?" Jack pressed.
"Better than crazy, better than alcoholic, better than a drug addict, and better than our parents."
Jack blanched. "Was she those things?"
"I don't know if she was." John admitted. "But I was." He paused. "Like I said, it made me better." The last, added a bit defiantly.
Jack nodded. He didn't want to believe that some good could possibly come from having a Goa'uld in the head. But for once, there was no line of demarcation between good and bad when it came to this Goa'uld. However, there was no way they could allow a Snake to roam freely in the ranks of the military. Dealing with the Tok'ra was bad enough. No, this Goa'uld would have to be removed as well.
"I'll go talk to Rayne while Dr. Frasier examines you." Jack said as he stepped away from his nephew's bedside, pulling the curtain behind him.
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Jack peered around the edge of the curtain. "Rayne?" He called softly. When he got no response he called a little louder. When he still didn't get a response, he assumed that she was finally asleep and opened the edge of the curtain to look fully inside. The bed was empty.
Jack began to tense. She could be anywhere on the base, but she couldn't have left it. He dashed over to the bathroom, in hopes that she was there. It was empty.
"Colonel O'Neill." He heard his name called.
"Not now, Jonas." Jack rebuffed him.
"She's under the bed. She fell asleep." Jonas informed him without, to Jack's surprise, even a hint of reproach in his voice.
Jack let out a sigh of relief. "How long have you been here?"
"About an hour. I brought her some clothes from her apartment, which oddly made her angry, and she wanted me to leave, so I got some lunch and came back. When was the last time you ate anything?"
Jack was surprised to realize that he was hungry and that he hadn't eaten anything since the day before. "I'm fine. How's she doing?"
Jonas shrugged. "Like Janet said; she puts up a good front, but she's still afraid of most people. She seems to trust you though."
Jack shook his head. "Maybe she did when she first woke up, but after I told her about Charlie. . . I don't know."
Jonas fingered the piece of paper that he held in his pocket. "Rayne showed me some of the letters."
Jack nodded his head as Jonas continued. "She showed me one that she later said that she wrote and she told me to burn it, but I. . .I kept it, in case she ever changed her mind. She didn't want me to show it to you, but it may help pinpoint her state of mind."
Jack waved him off. "Don't show it to me. She didn't want me to see it."
Jonas opened his mouth to argue, but shut it with a snap. At least he had been given the option. Jonas tucked the letter back into his pocket.
"Look, Jonas." Jack steadied himself hoping that he was making the right choice. "Rayne's brother is here. He wants to see her, but I wanted to ask her first. Since she's asleep, I'm going to go get a bite. Why don't you hang around and talk to her about it when she wakes up?"
"Yes. Absolutely." Jonas' grin was incandescent. "You can count on me."
Jack patted him on the shoulder as he left. "Yeahh." He muttered. "You do that." He slunk out of the infirmary and made his way to the commissary.
Jonas pulled a book out of his pocket and settled onto one of the infirmary chairs to wait for Rayne to wake up. He didn't have to wait very long. He heard a rustling coming from behind the curtain and called out. "Rayne?"
Jonas could hear a whimpering noise coming from behind the curtain. Opening it to make sure she was okay, he called to her again. "Rayne?" A blood-curdling scream was the response.
Jonas hit the floor next to her bed and pulled her from beneath it. "Rayne! Wake up!" She let loose with a tumble of fists and feet as Jonas continued to try to waken her. As quickly as she started fighting, she stopped and opened her eyes to find herself sitting on Jonas' chest with her foot on his neck, his hands wrapped around her fists. Both were trying to catch their breath as Dr. Frasier and two nurses burst into the curtained area.
They stared down at the pair dumbly "Just a nightmare, Doctor." Jonas explained from his position on the floor. Blood was trickling from a cut on his lip. Rayne still hadn't moved from her seat, though she had relaxed her arms from their fighting position. She looked around bewildered.
"Jonas?" Rayne whispered.
He looked up at her in surprise. A flash of recognition had flashed in her eyes but was now fading. Rayne slid to the floor and stared disconsolately into space. "Could you leave us alone, please?" She asked Dr. Frasier softly. She nodded and prodded her nurses out of the area. Jonas seemed to be the only one Rayne would talk to.
Jonas pushed himself into a crouch and took Rayne's hands, pulling her to her feet. "Rayne, are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?" He urged softly.
She continued to stare down at the floor, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "Thank you for bringing the letters the other day. I've been reading them."
"You're welcome, Rayne."
Without looking at his face she pulled his head down for an unfeeling kiss but physically intimate kiss.
Jonas was completely taken by surprise and he pushed her away to arms length. He looked at her bewildered. "What are you doing?"
She finally looked into his eyes returning the bewildered look with one of her own. Her gaze wavered. "I have to thank you for the gift." She informed him meekly. She moved to step closer to him again.
"Rayne!" Jonas growled firmly as he held her by the shoulders away from him. "You don't need to thank me. I just brought something that was already yours. You said 'thanks' and that's enough."
"You don't want me to kiss you?" Rayne asked, clearly amazed by the concept.
"I don't want you to kiss me unless *you* want to."
Rayne blinked back tears of surprise as she looked into his concerned face. "What do you want then?"
Jonas smiled softly. "Well, I would like to talk to you, but we don't have to do that if you don't want to."
The tears that she had been slowly trickling down her face quickened. Her breathing increased and eventually deepened to hitching sobs, her face scrunching up in tears.
Jonas wanted to pull her into a hug and comfort her, but he was afraid that doing so would push her away again. He took her hand instead. "Rayne?" He spoke cautiously.
Keeping her head down, she stopped sobbing to draw in a frightened breath and stepped toward Jonas.
The corners of Jonas' mouth turned up slightly. He tentatively placed his arms around her. She held herself stiffly, so it wasn't exactly the emotional reunion he had hoped for, but it was progress. She pulled away from him experimentally.
He stepped back and stood awkwardly searching his mind for something to say.
"You wanted to talk?" She asked impassively.
"Yeah." His mind was blank. "Oh, oh wait! Col. O'Neill wanted me to tell you that you had a visitor."
"What!?" Rayne looked around like a trapped animal. Spotting her personal guards by the door she turned her attention back to Jonas with a glare that could freeze flames.
"Your brother, Rayne. No one else. Your brother is here and you don't have to see him unless you want to."
"My brother?" The ire melted from her countenance. "Johnny is here?"
"Do you want to see him? I can tell him if you want." He volunteered.
"No." Rayne sat down on the bed and settled back against the pillows. "No, I don't think I want to see him." She said it smugly. Her mood swings were beginning to confuse Jonas. Now she was acting like a queen choosing whom she would deem to see and whom she wouldn't. Her tests to see how much control she actually held over her situation were understandable, but they hurt her more than anyone else.
Jonas shrugged. "Okay. I'll go tell Dr. Frasier that you don't want to see him."
Jonas ducked around the curtain and walked over to John O'Neill's cordoned area and peered around.
"Dr. Frasier? Can I talk to you a minute?" He requested politely. He turned around to wait for her to come out into the open area. He nearly ran into Rayne who had sneaked up behind him.
Jonas gasped in surprise, his hand instinctively going to cover his chest. "No, I want to see him. Please?" Rayne looked up pleadingly.
Jonas sighed again. "Okay, I'll tell Dr. Frasier that you *do* want to see him. Do you want to see him right away, or would you rather wait?"
Rayne looked as though she couldn't make up her mind. Apparently too many choices were overwhelming. Grinning, Jonas took her by the hand and drew her gently into the curtained area.
"Dr. Frasier? Rayne's here." John slipped off the bed and stood. The orderlies drew themselves up straighter and looked more menacing, but John didn't seem to notice. Dr. Frasier held up a hand indicating to them to stay as they were.
"Rayne, I'm glad to see you up and about." Dr. Frasier welcomed. Rayne slipped behind Jonas, squeezing his hand tightly behind him.
"Rayne, I'm happy to see you." John began tentatively.
She peered around Jonas. "You look different."
"I imagine that after eight years you look different, too. It's too bad I can't really see you." He said pointedly.
Taking the hint, she cautiously stepped out from behind Jonas, but she still kept hold of his hand.
John smiled warmly at her, but addressed her as one would a shy child. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend?"
She looked momentarily perplexed before she realized that she was still grasping Jonas' hand. She stared hard at him for a minute before turning to her brother and saying defiantly, "This is Jonas. We're dating."
Jonas' grin practically wrapped around his head. "Pleased to meet you, Commander." He said as he shook his left hand. Rayne still had his right in a vise grip.
John raised his eyebrows at that. "How long have you been seeing each other?"
Jonas looked momentarily uncomfortable but continued to smile. "We met just over two weeks ago at a coffee shop in town."
"Really." John asked, voice full of disdain. "And what exactly was it that drew you to her?"
If Jonas could tell that John was baiting him he did a good job of covering it up. "She had a stack of very interesting books."
"You were attracted to her books?" John asked, amazed. Janet bit her lip to hold back a grin at the exchange until she noticed that Rayne had retreated behind Jonas again.
"Jonas, why don't you take Rayne to the commissary to get something to eat?" Janet suggested, in a tone that said it was not a request. "We need to finish up here."
Jonas nodded and led Rayne back to her partition; she kept her head down the whole time, not even looking up when her brother had said good-bye. "Are you hungry? The soup today looked good."
"I am hungry, but I'm tired of soup." Her voice was weary. "It's all Dr. Frasier will let me have." She mumbled. It was the first time she had complained about anything. It was a small step to asserting herself, but it was a step.
"I bet I know something that you can have, something that isn't soup." He whispered conspiratorially. He whispered the suggestion into her ear, making her smile guiltily. "Let's go to the commissary."
"Shouldn't we ask if it's okay first?" She whispered back, an edge of worry in her voice.
"If we don't ask, she can't forbid it. Let's go." Jonas waggled his eyebrows.
It occurred to Jonas that because she had lost so many memories, she still had the mentality of a high school student: an adult much of the time, but with the need to be a child once in a while. This need even greater because she hadn't had the opportunity to be a child a lot of the time.
Rayne grinned excitedly, the visit to her brother and all of her fears momentarily forgotten. The guards, of course, followed them at a distance, but Jonas led Rayne through a maze of corridors, ducking into doorways and peering around corners playfully in a way that made her giggle, somewhat guiltily. The guards looked at Jonas as if he were crazy; there were faster ways to the cafeteria. He just wanted her to have a good time.
Rayne's own thoughts warred within her. She wanted so much to trust him; she hadn't trusted anyone except Charlie for so long, but he was gone. Jonas was so nice and he went out of his way to make her happy. She wanted to return the favor. There couldn't be any danger in playing along with this game of his. She just wished that she could remember him before.
They were just outside of the commissary when he decided that the guards would be service, rather than a hindrance to his game. He pulled Rayne into a large janitor's closet and asked the guards to stand sentry outside the doors.
Inside, he turned buckets over for them to sit on. "Wait here, while I cross into enemy territory." He looked back and forth exaggeratedly and leaned in closer to whisper his question. "Chocolate or Vanilla?"
She gave him a genuine grin this time. "Both. With bananas."
Jonas' smile widened. "This could work after all." He thought.
Lt. Commander Jonathan O'Neill stepped off the transport plane, under the watchful eye of six burly MP's. "This way, sir." One of the guards directed him towards an armored truck.
"I don't suppose you gentlemen could tell me what this is all about?" He asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. It was the fourth time he had tried the question since he had left the base.
The MP's remained silent and John found himself wending his way up the side of a mountain. It was in the elevator down to the lower levels that John O'Neill realized why he was there. He clenched his fists as he felt a change coming over him. "You have to put the cuffs on." He told the MP's urgently.
"What?"
"Now, dammit! Stop the elevator and put the cuffs on!" He demanded. As the last word escaped his lips, his eyes flashed white. He threw his head back and snarled. Lashing out at the first MP, his fist stopped just centimeters from his face. He shakily put his hand down at his side as the guard behind him pinned his arms behind his back. The doors of the elevator opened and the naval officer was pushed into the waiting arms of a medical team.
"He went crazy in the elevator, Ma'am." One of the guards breathlessly addressed Dr. Frasier. "He demanded that we cuff him, then he struck out to hit Smitty here, but stopped. And maybe it was just me, but I could have sworn I saw his eyes glow."
"Thank you, Sergeant, we'll take it from here. The parasitic infection does tend to create a phosphorescent-like chemical in the body, which may be what you saw in the eyes. Report to Dr. Warner for decontamination instructions before you leave. I don't need to remind you that this is not to be discussed with anyone outside of official channels. Dismissed."
John stood staring at Dr. Frasier until the guards had gone. "I'm under control now."
"Why don't you let me determine that, Commander." She returned. "Follow me." They walked to the infirmary, four orderlies, slightly larger than the MP's that had escorted him from Hawaii followed closely behind.
"May I ask why I'm here?" He inquired as nonchalantly as he could.
Janet watched him closely. "I'll let your uncle brief you on that." She said tersely.
"My uncle? What does he have to do with any of this?" John asked, slightly panicked.
"Col. O'Neill is the 2IC of this facility. He'll be talking to you after your exam."
"But I can already tell you what you'll find. I assume you know about the Goa'uld or I wouldn't be here." He watched her face as he spoke hoping for any indication that she understood what he meant. The change in expression was slight, but he did notice her lips tighten when he mentioned the word Goa'uld. He needed to know what they knew.
He walked into the infirmary and was ushered to a bed. He noticed that another bed on the opposite end was occupied, but the curtain had been pulled around it.
"Commander, if you would." One of the orderlies held out a set of scrubs. "You'll need to remove all metal objects from your body.
John reluctantly complied. He had barely finished pulling on the shirt - the orderlies had *not* given him privacy while doing so - when Janet pulled his curtain back to begin his examination.
"Before I begin the exam," Janet began, "I'd like you to tell me everything you know about how you became a Goa'uld. Sergeant Beher will be recording you."
John held back his temper. Clearly, these people knew what a Goa'uld was, but they didn't understand how one worked. "With all due respect, Doctor, I am not a Goa'uld, at least not in the way that you think. I carry a symbiotic life form that is for all intents and purposes *similar to* a Goa'uld. That said, you should also be informed that I am in complete control over the symbiote. The temporary lapse in the elevator was due to an unexpected increase of an element in this environment. Had I been warned prior to exposure, I would have been able to maintain control. As it was, I regained control before any major harm could be done. I would also like to add that if you intend to give me any sedatives, you will be limiting my ability to maintain control, so I suggest that you have restraints ready, if that is to occur."
"You didn't answer my question." Janet replied testily. "I need to know when and how you became a host."
John sighed in frustration. Sensing that cooperation would be the only way this would work, he answered. "I became a host shortly after I graduated from high school. My mother was a Goa'uld, in the more traditional sense of the word." His lip curled in derision when he said the word mother. "She found a way to genetically manipulate the Goa'uld to have varying degrees of extra-sensory perception. I understand that other Goa'uld have been working with genetics for some time." Dr. Frasier made an indescribable noise in her throat. "She succeeded, but the end result was a larva that was unable to gain complete control over the host body; it could only influence it. Exposure to a material known as Naquadah, which is not found naturally in the Earth's crust, increases the strength of the Goa'uld. Mother implanted the genetically altered Goa'uld into me and I. . . changed."
"Changed in what way?" Colonel O'Neill asked as he stepped from behind the curtain, hands in pockets. Janet chose that moment to step into her office. "Hello, Commander."
John swallowed and paled. "Colonel." He acknowledged. "I became more confident, healthier, and more able to retain information. I had taken an IQ test before implantation and another after. I scored 23 points higher the second time. I grew up with allergies and asthma; they're gone. I can't imagine how I would live without it."
"How did you find out what happened to you? Did you're mother tell you what she was doing?"
John snorted. "If I've spoken more than a dozen sentences to my mother after the age of twelve, I assure you it was entirely by accident, sir. One of my earliest assignments was a primitive field unit. Apparently there were some trace amounts of Naquadah in the area, probably from some remaining Goa'uld artifact, which caused severe migraines. The doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with me because of our limited resources and one of my buddies encouraged me to try some local holistic remedies and meditation. I found that I was able to tap into some of the feelings of the symbiote. I realized that it was trying to assert control and I figured out ways of suppressing it. I practiced enough that I rarely slip and lose control. I wasn't expecting there to be so much Naquadah in the area though. What are you doing here anyway?"
Jack, ignoring the young man's inquiry, creased his brow in thought. "Does it retain the genetic memory of all of the Goa'uld? Can you tap into those memories?"
"Genetic memory?" He asked, surprised. Maybe they did have some experience with the Goa'uld after all. "I have no idea, sir. I've never tried it. I've really just been able to get random images and to piece together what happened to me. I'm still not 100% sure where I end and it begins. If I might ask, sir, how did you know that this happened to me in the first place?"
Jack braced himself. "Your sister is here." He gestured to the closed curtain that surrounded her bed.
John blanched. "This happened to her too?" He asked dryly.
"If you're asking if your mother implanted her with a Goa'uld, the answer is yes. She, however, was not privy to any of the information that you seem to have discovered about the Goa'uld until it took control."
John looked at him with an expression that Jack couldn't quite identify. It was almost a look of relief. "I can help her regain control. She'll be fine if I can talk to her."
"The Goa'uld is gone. It jumped into one of my men. It took all of her memories of the past eight years with it." Jack fought to control his temper. He didn't like losing people, whole or in pieces, especially to the Goa'uld.
This revelation didn't seem to comfort John. If anything, he looked deflated. "So, she's back to the way she was before."
"I don't know what she was like before." Jack said quietly.
John nodded and stared with a sorrowful intensity at Rayne's curtain, as if he could see through it. Jack took the opportunity to study his nephew. Unlike Rayne, he didn't look at all like himself or his brother. His large blue eyes were inherited from Jack's grandmother, a true Minnesotan Swede. The black hair, which, if longer than the standard military cut, would probably be curly, was a trait that the boy's mother also possessed. As for his rather angular features, they strongly resembled Jack's father's. Having inherited his own looks from the Pratt's on his mother's side of the family, he supposed it was nice to see something of his father carried on in the family line.
"May I see her?" John asked, startling Jack out of his reverie.
"I'll have to ask her. She's a bit, well, she's a bit twitchy."
John nodded. "I couldn't help her, you know." John informed him softly. "I tried to, after I joined the military. I couldn't get to her."
"She doesn't blame you. You shouldn't blame yourself either." He said it half-heartedly. He blamed himself enough.
"Are you going to find a way to put the symbiote back?"
Jack stared at him in astonishment. "Why would we even *want* to do that?"
John returned the incredulous look. "It would make her better."
"Better than what?" Jack pressed.
"Better than crazy, better than alcoholic, better than a drug addict, and better than our parents."
Jack blanched. "Was she those things?"
"I don't know if she was." John admitted. "But I was." He paused. "Like I said, it made me better." The last, added a bit defiantly.
Jack nodded. He didn't want to believe that some good could possibly come from having a Goa'uld in the head. But for once, there was no line of demarcation between good and bad when it came to this Goa'uld. However, there was no way they could allow a Snake to roam freely in the ranks of the military. Dealing with the Tok'ra was bad enough. No, this Goa'uld would have to be removed as well.
"I'll go talk to Rayne while Dr. Frasier examines you." Jack said as he stepped away from his nephew's bedside, pulling the curtain behind him.
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Jack peered around the edge of the curtain. "Rayne?" He called softly. When he got no response he called a little louder. When he still didn't get a response, he assumed that she was finally asleep and opened the edge of the curtain to look fully inside. The bed was empty.
Jack began to tense. She could be anywhere on the base, but she couldn't have left it. He dashed over to the bathroom, in hopes that she was there. It was empty.
"Colonel O'Neill." He heard his name called.
"Not now, Jonas." Jack rebuffed him.
"She's under the bed. She fell asleep." Jonas informed him without, to Jack's surprise, even a hint of reproach in his voice.
Jack let out a sigh of relief. "How long have you been here?"
"About an hour. I brought her some clothes from her apartment, which oddly made her angry, and she wanted me to leave, so I got some lunch and came back. When was the last time you ate anything?"
Jack was surprised to realize that he was hungry and that he hadn't eaten anything since the day before. "I'm fine. How's she doing?"
Jonas shrugged. "Like Janet said; she puts up a good front, but she's still afraid of most people. She seems to trust you though."
Jack shook his head. "Maybe she did when she first woke up, but after I told her about Charlie. . . I don't know."
Jonas fingered the piece of paper that he held in his pocket. "Rayne showed me some of the letters."
Jack nodded his head as Jonas continued. "She showed me one that she later said that she wrote and she told me to burn it, but I. . .I kept it, in case she ever changed her mind. She didn't want me to show it to you, but it may help pinpoint her state of mind."
Jack waved him off. "Don't show it to me. She didn't want me to see it."
Jonas opened his mouth to argue, but shut it with a snap. At least he had been given the option. Jonas tucked the letter back into his pocket.
"Look, Jonas." Jack steadied himself hoping that he was making the right choice. "Rayne's brother is here. He wants to see her, but I wanted to ask her first. Since she's asleep, I'm going to go get a bite. Why don't you hang around and talk to her about it when she wakes up?"
"Yes. Absolutely." Jonas' grin was incandescent. "You can count on me."
Jack patted him on the shoulder as he left. "Yeahh." He muttered. "You do that." He slunk out of the infirmary and made his way to the commissary.
Jonas pulled a book out of his pocket and settled onto one of the infirmary chairs to wait for Rayne to wake up. He didn't have to wait very long. He heard a rustling coming from behind the curtain and called out. "Rayne?"
Jonas could hear a whimpering noise coming from behind the curtain. Opening it to make sure she was okay, he called to her again. "Rayne?" A blood-curdling scream was the response.
Jonas hit the floor next to her bed and pulled her from beneath it. "Rayne! Wake up!" She let loose with a tumble of fists and feet as Jonas continued to try to waken her. As quickly as she started fighting, she stopped and opened her eyes to find herself sitting on Jonas' chest with her foot on his neck, his hands wrapped around her fists. Both were trying to catch their breath as Dr. Frasier and two nurses burst into the curtained area.
They stared down at the pair dumbly "Just a nightmare, Doctor." Jonas explained from his position on the floor. Blood was trickling from a cut on his lip. Rayne still hadn't moved from her seat, though she had relaxed her arms from their fighting position. She looked around bewildered.
"Jonas?" Rayne whispered.
He looked up at her in surprise. A flash of recognition had flashed in her eyes but was now fading. Rayne slid to the floor and stared disconsolately into space. "Could you leave us alone, please?" She asked Dr. Frasier softly. She nodded and prodded her nurses out of the area. Jonas seemed to be the only one Rayne would talk to.
Jonas pushed himself into a crouch and took Rayne's hands, pulling her to her feet. "Rayne, are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?" He urged softly.
She continued to stare down at the floor, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "Thank you for bringing the letters the other day. I've been reading them."
"You're welcome, Rayne."
Without looking at his face she pulled his head down for an unfeeling kiss but physically intimate kiss.
Jonas was completely taken by surprise and he pushed her away to arms length. He looked at her bewildered. "What are you doing?"
She finally looked into his eyes returning the bewildered look with one of her own. Her gaze wavered. "I have to thank you for the gift." She informed him meekly. She moved to step closer to him again.
"Rayne!" Jonas growled firmly as he held her by the shoulders away from him. "You don't need to thank me. I just brought something that was already yours. You said 'thanks' and that's enough."
"You don't want me to kiss you?" Rayne asked, clearly amazed by the concept.
"I don't want you to kiss me unless *you* want to."
Rayne blinked back tears of surprise as she looked into his concerned face. "What do you want then?"
Jonas smiled softly. "Well, I would like to talk to you, but we don't have to do that if you don't want to."
The tears that she had been slowly trickling down her face quickened. Her breathing increased and eventually deepened to hitching sobs, her face scrunching up in tears.
Jonas wanted to pull her into a hug and comfort her, but he was afraid that doing so would push her away again. He took her hand instead. "Rayne?" He spoke cautiously.
Keeping her head down, she stopped sobbing to draw in a frightened breath and stepped toward Jonas.
The corners of Jonas' mouth turned up slightly. He tentatively placed his arms around her. She held herself stiffly, so it wasn't exactly the emotional reunion he had hoped for, but it was progress. She pulled away from him experimentally.
He stepped back and stood awkwardly searching his mind for something to say.
"You wanted to talk?" She asked impassively.
"Yeah." His mind was blank. "Oh, oh wait! Col. O'Neill wanted me to tell you that you had a visitor."
"What!?" Rayne looked around like a trapped animal. Spotting her personal guards by the door she turned her attention back to Jonas with a glare that could freeze flames.
"Your brother, Rayne. No one else. Your brother is here and you don't have to see him unless you want to."
"My brother?" The ire melted from her countenance. "Johnny is here?"
"Do you want to see him? I can tell him if you want." He volunteered.
"No." Rayne sat down on the bed and settled back against the pillows. "No, I don't think I want to see him." She said it smugly. Her mood swings were beginning to confuse Jonas. Now she was acting like a queen choosing whom she would deem to see and whom she wouldn't. Her tests to see how much control she actually held over her situation were understandable, but they hurt her more than anyone else.
Jonas shrugged. "Okay. I'll go tell Dr. Frasier that you don't want to see him."
Jonas ducked around the curtain and walked over to John O'Neill's cordoned area and peered around.
"Dr. Frasier? Can I talk to you a minute?" He requested politely. He turned around to wait for her to come out into the open area. He nearly ran into Rayne who had sneaked up behind him.
Jonas gasped in surprise, his hand instinctively going to cover his chest. "No, I want to see him. Please?" Rayne looked up pleadingly.
Jonas sighed again. "Okay, I'll tell Dr. Frasier that you *do* want to see him. Do you want to see him right away, or would you rather wait?"
Rayne looked as though she couldn't make up her mind. Apparently too many choices were overwhelming. Grinning, Jonas took her by the hand and drew her gently into the curtained area.
"Dr. Frasier? Rayne's here." John slipped off the bed and stood. The orderlies drew themselves up straighter and looked more menacing, but John didn't seem to notice. Dr. Frasier held up a hand indicating to them to stay as they were.
"Rayne, I'm glad to see you up and about." Dr. Frasier welcomed. Rayne slipped behind Jonas, squeezing his hand tightly behind him.
"Rayne, I'm happy to see you." John began tentatively.
She peered around Jonas. "You look different."
"I imagine that after eight years you look different, too. It's too bad I can't really see you." He said pointedly.
Taking the hint, she cautiously stepped out from behind Jonas, but she still kept hold of his hand.
John smiled warmly at her, but addressed her as one would a shy child. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend?"
She looked momentarily perplexed before she realized that she was still grasping Jonas' hand. She stared hard at him for a minute before turning to her brother and saying defiantly, "This is Jonas. We're dating."
Jonas' grin practically wrapped around his head. "Pleased to meet you, Commander." He said as he shook his left hand. Rayne still had his right in a vise grip.
John raised his eyebrows at that. "How long have you been seeing each other?"
Jonas looked momentarily uncomfortable but continued to smile. "We met just over two weeks ago at a coffee shop in town."
"Really." John asked, voice full of disdain. "And what exactly was it that drew you to her?"
If Jonas could tell that John was baiting him he did a good job of covering it up. "She had a stack of very interesting books."
"You were attracted to her books?" John asked, amazed. Janet bit her lip to hold back a grin at the exchange until she noticed that Rayne had retreated behind Jonas again.
"Jonas, why don't you take Rayne to the commissary to get something to eat?" Janet suggested, in a tone that said it was not a request. "We need to finish up here."
Jonas nodded and led Rayne back to her partition; she kept her head down the whole time, not even looking up when her brother had said good-bye. "Are you hungry? The soup today looked good."
"I am hungry, but I'm tired of soup." Her voice was weary. "It's all Dr. Frasier will let me have." She mumbled. It was the first time she had complained about anything. It was a small step to asserting herself, but it was a step.
"I bet I know something that you can have, something that isn't soup." He whispered conspiratorially. He whispered the suggestion into her ear, making her smile guiltily. "Let's go to the commissary."
"Shouldn't we ask if it's okay first?" She whispered back, an edge of worry in her voice.
"If we don't ask, she can't forbid it. Let's go." Jonas waggled his eyebrows.
It occurred to Jonas that because she had lost so many memories, she still had the mentality of a high school student: an adult much of the time, but with the need to be a child once in a while. This need even greater because she hadn't had the opportunity to be a child a lot of the time.
Rayne grinned excitedly, the visit to her brother and all of her fears momentarily forgotten. The guards, of course, followed them at a distance, but Jonas led Rayne through a maze of corridors, ducking into doorways and peering around corners playfully in a way that made her giggle, somewhat guiltily. The guards looked at Jonas as if he were crazy; there were faster ways to the cafeteria. He just wanted her to have a good time.
Rayne's own thoughts warred within her. She wanted so much to trust him; she hadn't trusted anyone except Charlie for so long, but he was gone. Jonas was so nice and he went out of his way to make her happy. She wanted to return the favor. There couldn't be any danger in playing along with this game of his. She just wished that she could remember him before.
They were just outside of the commissary when he decided that the guards would be service, rather than a hindrance to his game. He pulled Rayne into a large janitor's closet and asked the guards to stand sentry outside the doors.
Inside, he turned buckets over for them to sit on. "Wait here, while I cross into enemy territory." He looked back and forth exaggeratedly and leaned in closer to whisper his question. "Chocolate or Vanilla?"
She gave him a genuine grin this time. "Both. With bananas."
Jonas' smile widened. "This could work after all." He thought.
