Forget Me Not

by SGC Gategirl

Standard SG-1 luck. A mission to a peaceful planet goes terribly wrong when SG-1 meet up with an ancient people transported from Celtic Europe. Not everyone is who they seem to be and memories cannot be trusted. (Complete)

7. Chapter One

The day dawned dark and gloomy as the team from the SGC made its way downstairs for a late breakfast before they departed. Kelan had poked his head into the room earlier, informing them that breakfast with Lord Kentigern would be served later that hour. Thankfully, he had also brought two pitchers of the warm morning beverage the people of Meath enjoyed. Erskine was a cross between coffee and tea but with a sweeter aftertaste and they had all taken an instant liking to it. Yesterday morning, Sam had asked Nerys if it would be possible to bring some of it home and Nerys had assured Sam that she would secure a bag of the Erskine—along with directions for brewing—for Sam before they departed the following day.

Overnight, a storm front had moved in providing a soaking rain to the area, drenching everything in its path. From the castle windows, the gray sky assaulted their senses and a cold wind whipped the trees into a frenzy. It would not be a pleasant hike back to the Stargate.

Daniel peered out through a window on the upper level, watching the muted activity in the square below. Normally bustling with activity this late in the morning, today a lone man trudged across the empty expanse in the cold rain, driving a small herd of cattle before him toward the stables.

Much to Daniel's surprise, dinner and the final treaty signing with Lord Kentigern had gone well—despite the pre-dinner entertainment. And after several glasses of ale and wine the night before to toast their new alliance, they had all stumbled back to their quarters in the early hours of the morning, succumbing to the sleep of the dead.

Some woke up with one hell of a hangover. For Daniel, he was thankful that this time it wasn't him. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.

"Daniel, are you coming?" Sam called, from the top of the main staircase, the candelabra hanging from the ceiling causing flickering shadows across her face. Paul and Stan glared at her from under darkened eyebrows.

"Yeah," Daniel replied absently, taking one last look at the lone man and his cattle. It was a simple, uncomplicated existence that Daniel sometimes envied. No worries about the Goa'uld or about treaties or secret projects, just living. Daniel sighed deeply, before moving beside his friend.

Sam looked Daniel over carefully, concern evident in her blue eyes. She placed her hand lightly on his arm, a gesture of fondness. "You okay, Daniel?"

He flashed her a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking. You know, I do that from time to time."

"I know," she said, smiling compassionately. "We're just about finished here and then we can go home. Are you ready to go?"

Daniel nodded, starting down the wide curving wooden stairs. "Yeah. I thought I'd give Lord Kentigern...and his wife...their gifts as we were leaving, since I forgot about them the first night. It'll be a nice 'thank you for letting us stay in your house' gift. What do you think?" Daniel turned to look at Sam, his eyebrow raised slightly in question.

"I think that would be fine. What do you think Paul? Stan?" Sam asked, speaking loud enough for her voice to carry to the two figures several steps in front of them.

Stan winced visibly. Paul answered for the both of them. "Sounds great, Sam."

Daniel exchanged an amused smile with Sam. Apparently, someone—or two someones in this instance—knew how to party. Last night, Sam and Daniel had just been glad to see that their host was too far-gone himself to notice the impropriety of the two diplomats. Sam and Daniel had also reached a mutual agreement: there was no need to mention their last little incident with the local liquor.

"Good morning to you all," Lord Kentigern exclaimed, rising from his place at the head of a long table in the middle of the Great Hall in greeting. Kentigern's loud salutation echoed through the cavernous room and was greeted by muted cursing from Stan and Paul.

Daniel was grateful that their murmuring didn't travel to Lord Kentigern's ears. Lesson one in dealing with the natives: It's never good to upset the host.

"I hope you have all had a pleasant rest and are rejuvenated for another day with us," Kentigern said.

Daniel sent a sidelong look over to Sam who was making herself comfortable across from Lord Kentigern. Several servants hovered behind her, prepared to place the morning meal before her.

"Lord Kentigern, good morning to you as well," Sam said pleasantly, an overflowing plate appearing before her. "Unfortunately, due to the weather, I think it might be best if we leave a little earlier. The storm does not look like it will subside anytime soon and we must return home in a few hours' time."

Although Lord Kentigern's exuberant expression fell a little at Sam's words, his tone was full of understanding. "I know I cannot change a lady's mind once it has been made up, but I was hoping to convince you to stay until Lady Morgana returned. I know she wished to say her farewells to you in person."

"Lady Morgana hasn't returned?" Daniel asked, his fork poised above his plate, the rough porridge dripping from the prongs into the bowl. It seemed like they didn't do the spoon thing, which made eating a little messy.

"No. None of the search parties have returned. I do not expect them until they have succeeded in their quest. Such is their way," Kentigern said simply, drinking deeply from his goblet. His plate was already clean. Apparently, they hadn't arrived in as timely a manner as he liked.

"May I ask...who are they looking for?" Daniel's head was titled slightly, his eyes demanding an answer. He was sure that Sam, or someone else, was probably shooting him silent messages to get him to shut up, but he had a gut feeling. He just had to know.

Kentigern looked a little bit uncomfortable, fingering his goblet absently, and Paul jumped in immediately. "Lord Kentigern, please excuse my colleague. Sometimes—"

"No, it is fine," Kentigern said, raising his hand to silence Paul's objection. "Daniel Jackson has the right to ask." Kentigern's eyes locked with each of the SGC team in turn, ending with Daniel before he spoke again, as if he was coming to a decision. "You wish to know, do you?"

Daniel thought for a moment before answering, but the answer was the same. "Yes, I am curious to discover what one man could do to such a mighty Lord as yourself to arouse such a response from your wife and your warriors."

"Do you remember the first time you graced my presence?"

"Of course," Daniel said, nodding.

"On that day we were also entertaining a representative from Glyn Cuch, one of the neighboring villages."

"Yes, I remember you speaking to him at the feast that night," Sam said, nodding her head, encouraging Kentigern to continue.

"Yes, he is the one of which we speak," Kentigern affirmed, pausing only to take a long drink of his goblet of Erskine. "We discovered not too long thereafter that his motives were not as honorable as we were led to believe. Instead of bringing peace to our two villages, he was trying to wage war. He had been sent as a spy to discover our secrets, in order to overturn our village and leave it in ruins. We do not take kindly to such men."

"But, didn't he come to our treaty negotiations? I thought I saw him enter with Lady Morgana the first night we arrived," Paul asked, leaning forward on his elbows. To Daniel, Paul's eyes were clear, his hangover long forgotten. Daniel was glad that he wasn't the only one who remembered seeing the tall stranger. Daniel, though, was sure no one had actually talked to the man. That little detail he hadn't shared with anyone and he wasn't sure he was going to. Something in his gut told him that that was something better left unsaid—at least here.

"You are correct, Paul Davis," Kentigern said, inclining his head in Paul's direction. "He has been our guest ever since the first time you laid eyes on him. Since then, we hoped that he had come to an understanding of our ways. He appeared to have...come to his senses. Lady Morgana was very proud since his reeducation was much her project."

"Reeducation? What does that mean?" Daniel asked, fear swirling in the pit of his stomach. Whatever it could mean, the implications were not good—especially if it was Lady Morgana's project.

"Very simply, he was educated in our ways and what was to be expected of him. We chose not to kill him immediately. His death would be a waste of a valuable resource. He needed to be convinced that it was in the best interests of everyone—especially himself—to help our people grow stronger."

"What did she do to him?" Daniel asked, aghast, as his breakfast threatened to reappear in a most embarrassing manner. "Was it torture? Mind control? What did she do to him?" Daniel's tone was unwavering. Disgust dripped from his tongue. He knew he should have tempered his comments, but in this instance, he didn't know how. So much about not angering the host, Daniel thought, absently realizing that he didn't care.

"I do not know," Kentigern said simply, shrugging his shoulders in a dismissive manner. His tone turned condescending, his eyes as hard as steel. "I do not concern myself with what our high priestess does. She answers to a much higher authority, our God Lugh. I do not have the right to command her in the execution of her duties, just as she does not command me in civil matters." Kentigern pushed back his chair and stood, gesturing for a servant to bring his cloak. "Please, excuse me. I must check on the status of the search parties. I will return shortly to bid you my final farewell before you depart. Good day to you."

Kentigern strode from the Great Hall and the door closed behind him, leaving the room in a strange silence. The echo of the closing door sounded peculiar, bouncing weirdly off the stone walls and tapestries.

Daniel eyed the rest of his team warily, wondering if they had come to the same conclusions that he had. From the looks on their faces, they were all in agreement: they had made a deal with the devil. These people were savages, barbarians even, and not to be crossed even in the smallest of matters.

But, right now, all Daniel could think of was the encounter he had had the day before in one of the darkened rooms. He could still hear the sound of the stranger's voice, rough and barely above a whisper, crackling like dry autumn leaves, asking, pleading, and begging for Daniel's help. The desperation in the man's eyes was haunting him—especially now. Especially now that he knew just from what that man had been running.

Daniel finally broke the stillness that had grown deeper between them as each team member was lost in their own thoughts. "I only have one question. What will they do to him once they find him?"

"I don't know, Daniel. I just know that I wouldn't want to be him," Paul said, all thoughts of breakfast gone, his plate pushed to the middle of the table to join the other three already there.

Stan cradled his head in his hands, his elbows on the table. "Was this a good idea?" Stan asked, his voice muffled. "Was this treaty such a good idea?"

"I hope so. I hope so," Daniel muttered, his eyes locked on Sam's.

A few beats of silence passed before Sam finally spoke up. "I think it's time to go. Let's get our things and go home."

The sound of their scraping chairs echoed through the room as they each pushed back away from the table. Servants descended on the room in rivers, clearing the now empty table as the SGC team quietly filed out of the room without even a backward glance.

XXXXXXXXXX

Egan was waiting for them in the foyer when they walked downstairs an hour later, their packs in hand. Without a word, he bowed deeply, gesturing for them to enter the Great Hall through the open doors on the right of the foyer.

The room had been changed once more, appearing as it first had when they arrived. Lord Kentigern sat regally on the dais, the chair beside him strangely vacant. They left their bags just outside the door before approaching Kentigern.

The walk up the grand carpet seemed to take forever—especially with Kentigern's cool gaze watching their every move.

Sam bowed deeply to Kentigern once she got within the appropriate distance, and the rest of her team quickly followed suit. Kentigern acknowledged them with a curt nod, his face expressionless. Sam feared for the worst.

"Lord Kentigern, thank you again for your kindness," Sam began but Kentigern cut her off with the wave of her hand.

"Major Carter, it is I who should be thanking you," Kentigern said.

Sam sent Daniel a quick look of surprise before she spoke. "I'm not sure I understand."

"We have not been the best of hosts to you, but you all have been most understanding and kind. In your place, I do not know if I would be as patient. You approached us looking for an ally and, instead, we have made you feel uncomfortable. For this, I must apologize on behalf of the people of Meath." Kentigern bowed his head toward Sam, who immediately accepted his apology and launched into the speech Daniel had helped her prepare, coaching her on what to say with the help of Kovachek.

"You need not apologize. But, on behalf of Earth and the SGC, we look forward to a most beneficial friendship between our two peoples. And in the name of friendship and our alliance," Sam said, gesturing Daniel to step forward. "We'd like to present these small tokens to you and your wife."

Daniel carefully placed the two boxes in Kentigern's hands, before pacing back to stand beside Sam. So far, so good, Sam thought, watching as a variety of emotions flickered across Kentigern's face—all of them positive.

Kentigern carefully opened each box and reverently removed the items, his face bright with joy.

"Thank you. I am regretful that Lady Morgana could not be here to receive this exquisite broach from you herself. I know she will be disappointed she did not have the opportunity to thank you in person. Please take my sincere thanks on behalf of both of us." Kentigern carefully laid the opened boxes on the chair beside him, before he stepped down the stairs to embrace Sam and Daniel warmly. Stan and Paul stepped forward and received enthusiastic handshakes from Kentigern as well.

"I look forward to our meeting once again. You are always welcome in Meath. Travel well and be safe," Kentigern said, smiling pleasantly.

"Thank you, Lord Kentigern, for the hospitality of your home and your good wishes," Daniel said with a strained smile. Paul and Stan echoed similar sentiments before they finally turned to leave, walking into the foyer as the doors to the Great Hall closed with a quiet thud.

A few minutes later and they were geared up, rain parkas and all. This time, no one would be accompanying them back to the Stargate. The weather had grown worse, the wind picking up to whip the rain, driving it sideways at times.

Although Nerys tried to convince them, Sam insisted that a guide was unnecessary. They could find their way back, and besides, the village needed those few men who had remained behind. Meath was empty enough as it was. There was no need to send more people out into this weather.

The hike back to the Stargate was uneventful with each member of the team finding solace in his or her own thoughts. For Sam, the rain and the wind was the perfect ending to a mission that had gone horribly wrong. While they had accomplished their goal, the treaty signing, she had mixed feelings. The deeper they dug, the more skeletons they uncovered. The people of Meath were more than they appeared to be—that much was certain. But just how far would they go in their own defense? And, how had they defeated the Goa'uld? No one had said. No one had uttered a single word on the subject.

Sam chanced a look at Daniel and found him studying her, his eyebrows drawn together. He flashed her a quick smile that she returned in kind, before turning back to the path before him, watching his footing on the slippery track.

This had been a hard mission for Daniel most of all, she thought, glancing ahead at Stan Kovachek and Paul Davis. Daniel always looked for the best in people and there were times when the bad seemed to outweigh the good—just like now. She wished that there were something she could do or say that would make everything right. She wished she could just erase the last two days from his mind—from her mind. Maybe, then, they'd be able to get some peace.

XXXXXXXXXX

He was being carried.

It was a strange sensation to wake up upside down, hanging over someone's shoulder, his arms fully extended, and his legs held firmly somewhere above him. He imagined his face must be beet-red, the blood rushing to his hands and face in his awkward position. Jack tried lifting his head to see where he was and where he was going, but he couldn't see much except raindrops and a dizzying view of the scenery as it bounced around. His movement only alerted his captors to the fact that he was awake—and someone was paying attention. The call went out quickly.

"Lady Morgana, he awakens."

"Good. Put him down." Lady Morgana's voice came drifting over the air, muffled by the rain that soaked everything in its path.

Moments later, he was dropped onto his side on the soggy ground, barely able to cushion his fall. Lovely, he thought with a grimace, rolling onto his back and flinging mud from his fingertips before trying to wipe the mud from his face.

Of course they had to drop me in the mud. At least the rain will help to wash some of it away, he thought. He used the brief moment to look around, but all he could see were feet, legs, and up above, tree limbs. Not much of a view.

After a moment, he was roughly pulled up into a seated position, his legs splayed out before him. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" Jack said, indignantly, trying to shrug off the hand on his arm, but it wasn't letting go. Sending a perturbed look at the hulking man at his side, he turned his attention to the figure that had stepped up before him, not surprised that it was Lady Morgana herself. "Oh, for crying out loud. When are you just going to go away?"

Instead of answering him, she turned her attention to the man at Jack's side. "Eavan, I want him on his feet."

"Yes, my Lady," Eavan said, immediately pulling Jack roughly upright.

Jack groaned as gravity reasserted itself on his limbs and his head spun a little. It was the little things that always made the difference, he thought, trying to focus his attention on the approaching figure. Gravity.

Pins and needles in his arms.

Equilibrium—or his lack thereof.

Double images.

Morgana closed the gap between them, stopping just short of stepping on Jack's toes. Her green eyes drilled into his, demanding him to focus, demanding him to answer. "Just what do you think you were doing running away from me?"

Jack tried to break her gaze, but couldn't. Instead, he offered as flippant an answer as he could think of under the circumstances. "Didn't care for the room service. Sorry," he said with an insincere smile.

Her solid slap across his face rocked him back on his heels. The hands gripping his upper arm helped keep him on his feet. But, a slow rage began to boil just beneath the surface. He could feel it starting from the soles of his feet, rising to the top of his head. If he could get his hands around her pretty little neck, he could snap it in a second, he thought, measuring the distance with his eyes. He knew hundreds of ways to kill using his hands. He didn't even have to come up with something creative. Dead was dead in anyone's book.

As soon as the thought popped into his mind, however, a white-hot fire ran through his mind and he found himself on his knees gasping for breath a moment later.

What the hell was that?

He was yanked to his feet once again.

"That was just one demonstration. Are you ready for another?" Morgana asked simply, her expression cold and calculating. Even though the cold rain poured down, matting her red hair to her skull and along the side of her face, she didn't pay attention to it. Her long taupe dress covered by a dark blue cloak clung to her body, hugging each of her curves. It was soaked through—as was everyone else—but she didn't care. To her, it could have been a mild sunny day instead of the Noreaster-like weather they were experiencing.

"What?" Jack asked, trying to pull his thoughts together. He was still unsteady on his feet and was thankful that someone was holding him up—actually two someones—otherwise he'd have ended up back on the ground in an ungainly pile. Standing was better.

"How did you like to see your team sitting beside me?" Morgana asked, a cruel smile on her lips, her tone mocking. Vaguely, Jack realized that she was enjoying herself. That never boded well.

"What? My team? What do you mean?" Jack said, as memories of the last few days filtered into his muddled brain. Images of their faces swam before him—Daniel...Carter...

This time he screamed when the pain ripped through his mind.

When he came back to his senses, he was on his knees once again, rocking back and forth, his hands holding his head. He was muttering under his breath. "Make it stop, make it stop."

"The only way it will end is if you stop thinking about it," Morgana said quietly, whispering in his ear, the voice of reason in a storm of pain and anguish.

"What did you do to me?" Jack asked, pulling his mind away from thoughts of his team and his home, finally finding the strength to concentrate on the here and now, his living nightmare.

"It's a present from the Goa'uld," Morgana said leaning back so he could focus on her face. "This device attaches to the victim's brain, sending out fibers and tendrils, fusing itself into the brain tissue. It has control over the pain and pleasure centers of your brain and can differentiate between thoughts. It can tell when you're lying and when you're telling the truth. Of course, I've modified it slightly," Morgana said, a chilling smile on her lips.

"How?" Jack asked, misery dripping from every word. He had to know. Might as well get the whole ball of wax now. Why wait for the surprises later?

Morgana lifted her right hand to display a single bracelet tight against her slim wet wrist. "With this, I can read your thoughts, even at a distance. And, if I don't like what I see..." she said with an evil smile, raising her other hand to press a single button on the side of the bracelet.

A wave of pain washed over Jack and he struggled to remain conscious. A few seconds later it vanished, as if it had never existed. Jack took a shuddering breath as realization dawned.

He was never going home.

XXXXXXXXXX

With her boots clanking on the metal ramp, Sam Carter led her team home safely and flashed her commanding officer as confident a smile as she could muster—under the circumstances.

"SG1, welcome home. I hope your mission was a success," General Hammond's voice echoed off the concrete and metal surfaces of the SGC gateroom.

"Yes, sir," Sam said, handing her dripping wet P90 and sidearm to the waiting Lieutenant who looked at the filthy weapons in disgust. She didn't care. They were home and she could breathe a sigh of relief. As soon as Kovachek stepped through, the gate shut down, plunging the room into the glaring brightness of the artificial overhead lighting.

"Good. Get checked out. Your mission debriefing is in two hours."

"Yes, sir," Sam said, stepping down from the ramp and heading for the infirmary, the rest of the team close behind. After walking for two hours in the cold driving rain, the only thing she really wanted to do was jump into a nice hot shower, but the post-mission medical checks always took priority.

"Sam," Daniel said when they reached the elevator. Daniel was painfully shifting the load on his back, but only managed to wince more. Sam tried to bite back a smile. She didn't even remember Daniel cracking open one of those books that he carried in his pack. "I'm just going to drop my pack in my office before we go see Janet. I don't want to carry this any longer than I have to. Actually, I'm not sure if I can carry it much more."

"Major Carter, I'd also like to stop in my office," Kovachek said. "I'd rather have these papers in my office. I don't want to risk losing them."

"Sure, but be quick. I'm going to stop by my lab as well. Paul, you are welcome to follow along with any one of us," Sam said turning to face Davis.

"I think I'll head right to the infirmary, Sam, if that's okay with you. I have to report in to the President and the Joint Chiefs, the sooner the better," Davis said, as the elevator doors opened before them.

"That's fine, but I expect to see you at the team debriefing," Sam said.

"I plan on being there."

"Okay. We'll meet in the briefing room in a little less than two hours," Sam said, as the elevator stopped at Level 21 to deposit Davis. "This should be an interesting debrief."

XXXXXXXXXX

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur for Jack O'Neill. Every now and then, he'd find himself on his knees, gasping, as the pain took his breath away. It was mind boggling the number of times he thought about home, his team, and trying to escape—and how he was going to kill Morgana. But every time he did, all he was rewarded with was pain and agony.

By the time they got back to the castle, he was soaked to the bone from the pouring rain and exhausted—mentally and physically. He was surprised, though, when Morgana led him up the stairs into a different section of the castle, away from the stairs that led to the dungeon that had been his home. Instead, he found himself standing in a small suite of rooms—a bedroom, sitting room, and bath—looking down over the castle's entrance and the bustling town square.

Glancing at Morgana in surprise, he discovered that he had nothing to say.

"There is no need for you to be uncomfortable for the rest of your stay with us," Morgana said, answering his unspoken question.

He looked at her for several moments before finally dropping his head, a gesture of defeat. "Thanks."

"My rooms are next door," she said, indicating a door to the right of the fireplace with her hand. "If you require anything, you may ask me or call for a servant using the cord next to the door. There are new clothes hanging in the closet of your bedroom. Make use of them." She glided around the room, checking the quarters, absently running her hand along the wall. "The device in your mind allows you a certain freedom. You are permitted to walk the grounds and the village, but you cannot leave the walls of the city. Any thoughts of escape or destruction of any property will be punished immediately."

Morgana stepped back to the door leading to the hallway, but paused before she stepped through. "There really is no need for you to suffer any longer. Why dwell on the past when your future holds so much more promise?"

With a swish of fabric, she was gone, the door closing behind her, leaving Jack alone.

He dropped bonelessly into an armchair, letting the fabric and cushions envelop his cold, trembling body. He tried to clear his mind, but his thoughts kept going back to his home, his family, and his team. Time and time again, he found himself coming to his senses several minutes later, gasping for breath, and holding his head, waiting for the pain to subside.

It wasn't as if he could turn off his thoughts like a faucet. He couldn't help it. They were part of him—just as much a part of him as this device now was.

Exhausted, his eyes fluttered closed and he fell into a dreamless sleep, his tormented body and soul finally finding a measure of peace in his slumber.

XXXXXXXXXX

General Hammond glanced up at the slight tapping on his doorframe. Major Paul Davis stood hesitantly in the doorway, his hand raised to knock again.

"Major," Hammond said, closing his laptop and gesturing for the Major to take a seat. "I'm glad you were able to stop here before you left the mountain. I know they are anxious in Washington to hear your report in person."

Davis smiled weakly, the exhaustion finally settling in. "I didn't want to leave before speaking with you, General," Davis said. "I made some discreet inquires with a number of the staff and the people of Meath, but I was unable to gain any information about Colonel O'Neill. I'm sorry, Sir. I wish I had better news for you."

Hammond sighed, realizing that this had been his last hope. "I know you tried your best, Major."

"Sir," Davis began, hesitating a little before continuing. "I hate to sound negative, but in all likelihood, Colonel O'Neill is probably dead. Anything could have happened—even an unfortunate accident. We both know the Colonel and if he were alive, I know there would have been some sign, something to indicate that he was there."

"I know, Major," Hammond said, his mouth set in a firm line. "Thank you for taking the time and effort to investigate this matter. I, too, wish it had resulted in a better outcome. I know you have a plane to catch, so I won't keep you any longer. Have a safe flight back to Washington."

Davis rose from his chair, adjusting the jacket of his uniform. "Thank you, Sir."

Davis offered Hammond a brisk salute before turning on his heel and striding out the door leaving Hammond with his troubled thoughts. Hammond sighed deeply, wiping a hand across his weary face. A beat later he rose to his feet. There was work to be done and he had a briefing to attend.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam Carter stepped briskly into the briefing room on level 28 to find Daniel dry, dressed in blue, and slumped at the table, his hands cradling a steaming mug of coffee. She glanced at him briefly and, when he didn't move to acknowledge her presence, she dropped her notes and folders on the table, making a loud slapping sound.

Daniel didn't even bat an eye.

Sam moved efficiently to the sideboard, pouring herself a cup of coffee and keeping an ever-watchful eye on her teammate and her friend. He was worrying her.

"Daniel?" Sam asked, stepping back up to the table, her voice full of concern. Placing her cup down on the table next to her notes, she walked around the briefing room table to lay her hand on his shoulder, squatting down so she was at his eye-level. "Daniel, are you okay?"

A few moments later, Daniel finally turned his head, his eyes slowly focusing in on her face, finally recognizing her presence. "Oh, hi Sam," he said without enthusiasm.

"Daniel, what's wrong?" She wasn't one to give up easily. Some called her tenacious and determined; others called her just plain pigheaded stubborn. Either way, it made no difference. Some things she just couldn't leave alone.

"Nothing, Sam. Why do you ask?"

Sam didn't think it possible, but Daniel looked even worse dry and warm than he had two hours ago dripping wet, his hair plastered to his head. There were dark circles under his eyes and waves of anguish and guilt—why guilt, she wondered—rolled off him. There was something he wasn't telling and with General Hammond due at any moment, this wasn't the time or the place to get into it.

"You just don't seem yourself, that's all," Sam said simply, finding her feet as Teal'c and General Hammond walked in from separate doors.

"I'm glad to see you all here, SG1," Hammond said, sitting down in his customary place at the head of the briefing room table, while Teal'c seated himself beside Sam. "We can get started."

"Sir, if I may I ask," Sam said, glancing around the room. "Where are Major Kovachek and Major Davis?"

"Major Kovachek will be along shortly. Doctor Fraiser delayed him. I spoke with Major Davis briefly before he left for Washington. He will not be joining us," Hammond answered briskly, getting down to business. "SG1, what can you tell me about your mission? It was apparently a success, but you seem more subdued than usual."

Sam chanced a glance at Daniel, who was busy studying his fingernails. Without Kovachek and Davis, she was the nominated spokesperson for the group—albeit by default. She cleared her throat as she tried to organize her thoughts. "Well, sir," she began, only to be interrupted when Kovachek walked in the door.

Hallelujah. Saved by the entering Major.

"Sorry, General Hammond, Major, Doctor, Teal'c," Kovachek said, indicating everyone with a nod of his head as he slid in the seat next to Daniel, who barely acknowledged his arrival.

"I'm glad you could join us, Major Kovachek. I trust everything is well," Hammond said.

"Yes, sir. Dr. Fraiser just wanted to run an extra check on my blood work. I think Major Davis got similar treatment."

"Very well. We were just beginning. Major Kovachek, perhaps you'd like to start?"

"Sure," Kovachek agreed, and without even a second thought, launched directly into his report. "The mission to P5X-171 was very much of a success. Lord Kentigern was very welcoming and accommodating with our requests for mining rights, the establishment of a research station and a secondary SGC base, and a general cultural exchange, among other things. Primarily, he was looking for gate information—addresses to friendly worlds for trade, a general Stargate education for his people, and other items including medicines and technology."

Kovachek glanced up from his notes, meeting Hammond's level gaze across the table. "Overall, sir, I think we managed to get more than what we asked for. I'd say we made out like a bandit," he said, shrugging his shoulders and looking around the table apparently for support from Carter and Daniel. Teal'c was pensive, his hands steepled before him.

"Major Carter, what are your observations?" Hammond said once a silence fell over the group.

"Well, sir," Sam said, trying to order her thoughts, trying to keep her feelings out of it. "Although the people of Meath are less technically advanced than we are, they have a lot they can offer us in terms of organic medicines and...as...a cultural...model. But, I'm sure Dr. Jackson could tell you more about that aspect of our mission," Sam said, her eyes firmly fixed on Daniel's uninterested form. His only movement: the constant spinning of a solitary pen.

When Sam's broad hint for Daniel to join the briefing didn't cut through his silent musings, General Hammond cleared his throat before he spoke in his most authoritative voice. "Doctor Jackson."

Daniel's head shot up immediately, his eyes wide in surprise. "Yes, sir?" He asked meekly. The pen continued to spin between his long, nimble fingers.

"I'm glad you could join the briefing. Major Carter was speaking about their culture. Would you be kind enough to elaborate a little more on the subject?" Hammond's tone was unmoving, his eyes firm and penetrating.

Daniel shifted minutely in his chair, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "Ah, the ah...people of Meath represent one of the best preserved...ah...the best preserved representations of Celtic Europe. A team of anthropologists would benefit from a long-term study of the inhabitants."

"That's it?" Hammond sounded amazed at Daniel's utter lack of verbosity. Normally, Sam knew that they had a hard time shutting him up when it came to discussing the various cultures and peoples they found. This time, he was less than enthusiastic—and it showed.

Daniel nodded. "Yes, I think so. Once I get the chance to go through my digital recordings, I may have a little more to add." The pen in his hands twirled around in an intricate dance.

"Doctor Jackson did something happen while you were there to so drastically change your outlook on Lord Kentigern? I seemed to remember that it was you who pushed to have this treaty arranged—despite my unwillingness for such an arrangement."

The pen stopped. Daniel looked up, his eyes meeting Sam's. She shrugged slightly, her expression guarded.

"You could say that," Daniel finally said, sighing deeply.

Hammond looked from face to face, trying to get the answer, his face full of questions. His voice, though, was firm and demanding. "What happened, people?"

"They weren't what we thought they were," Daniel said after a few moments of silence.

"Is that it? They didn't measure up to your expectations?" Hammond was not a happy camper. Sam could tell, seeing the signs of his displeasure in his slowly reddening face. If someone didn't give him a straight answer—and soon—they were in for a spectacular display—the likes of which no one had witnessed in quite some time.

"Sir," Sam said, drawing Hammond's attention to her. "It's more than that. It seems we might have been misled...a little...during our initial encounter."

"And how might that have been?"

"We finally saw them for the savages they really are," Daniel said, the words dripping with contempt.

"Doctor Jackson, would you care to explain that comment?" The General was not a happy man.

"If you don't meet up to their...their ideals...or...or rules they'll reeducate you," Daniel said, leaning forward, his glasses swinging from his fingers, passion behind his words. "Or, or if that wasn't bad enough, God forbid you if you forget to do something. They might just slit your throat."

Hammond's eyes narrowed, his face becoming stone-like. "Major, is that true?"

Sam nodded slowly. "Yes, sir. It seems that they have some very extreme measures for dealing with what we would consider small mistakes. And when it comes to enemies of the state, they, apparently, have some very definite...ways of getting their cooperation."

"You saw this?" Hammond was shocked and the outrage showed on his face and in his voice.

"Partially," Sam said with a small bend of her head in Daniel's direction. "Lady Morgana corrected one of her servants in the Great Hall, slitting his throat in front of us and several of the house stewards," Sam admitted. "As for the rest, we are just surmising what they do. We didn't actually see anything..."

"But you didn't have to?" Hammond concluded, his face turning grim at Sam's affirmative nod. He drew a deep breath before he spoke again. "What is your recommendation regarding this treaty? Do we abide by it or do I take this planet out of our dialing program?"

"What about Colonel O'Neill?"

Hammond's head snapped around to face Daniel. "What about him?"

"You can't just write the planet off like it never existed," Daniel said, his body and voice strangely resigned to the inevitable conclusion. "We can't just forget about Colonel O'Neill."

"Isn't that what we have already done?" Teal'c asked, his quiet voice cutting through the emotionally charged atmosphere in the briefing room.

"Major Kovachek, what were you able to find out?" Hammond asked, his voice low.

"I did place some discreet inquiries regarding Colonel O'Neill," Kovachek admitted, much to Sam's surprise. No one had mentioned to her that he had an additional agenda for the mission. "No one seemed to remember anyone fitting his description ever entering the village. Major Davis, I believe, had similar results from his inquiries. Maybe SG1 had an encounter with some of the inhabitants of Glyn Cuch before they even reached Meath. Maybe they had something to do with Colonel O'Neill's disappearance and SG1's memory lapse," Kovachek shrugged, offering a possible solution.

"No. Definitely not. We'd remember meeting someone else." Daniel was adamant, his eyes flashing angrily.

"And how could you be so sure, Daniel?" Kovachek shot back. "The entire control room watched the four of you leave, but only three of you returned. Something happened over there. Something or someone made you forget."

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel dropped into the chair at his office desk two hours later, exhausted from the briefing. General Hammond had made them go over every step of their mission to Meath. It had been worse than spending all day at the dentist's office. The General also wanted them to remain on the base for the next 48 hours before he'd let them go home. He wanted to give Doctor Fraiser the time she needed to get all the tests back on their blood work.

It was still relatively early in the evening, seven something Daniel noted, but he discovered that he didn't have much of an appetite. Actually, thinking about it now, he hadn't had much of an appetite since breakfast. Go figure, he thought, a grimace crossing his face as the memories of the morning's meal surfaced.

He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, trying to relax. The musty smell of his old books filled his nostrils, grounding him in the here and now. He felt safe here. He was home. All he was missing was a cup of coffee with the smell wafting up to caresses his senses, but he wasn't even in the mood for that.

Daniel pulled the glasses off his nose, rubbing at his closed eyes, pressing the heel of his hand on the bridge of his nose, trying to dull the pain that was threatening to lodge itself in his sinuses.

His backpack was on his lab table, its contents spilling onto the hard surface. He'd have to put the books back sooner or later, he thought, looking accusingly at the volumes poking out from the material of the bag.

A few moments later, he got up from his chair, a decision finally made. He'd start by organizing his pack and then he'd move on to the recordings he'd made. It was never too early to start his formal written report for General Hammond. Besides, it wasn't as if he had anywhere else to go.

He resigned himself to the task, digging into his pack. What his hand encountered first was not his volume on the history of the Celts, but instead, a small leather bag tied tightly closed with a cord.

This wasn't here before, Daniel thought, turning the item over and over in his hands, the supple leather warming with the heat of his hands.

Curiosity got the better of him and he loosened the cord securing the bag closed, letting another smaller pouch and a folded piece of paper drop into his hand. Placing the two leather pouches on his lab table, he opened the letter with trembling hands.

He read it twice, the words filling his mind with dread. Without taking his eyes from the page open before him, he moved to the phone on his desk, the fingers of his right hand dialing a familiar number, the handset cradled in the crook of his neck.

"Sam?" he said once the call was answered. "I think you should come up here. No, I'll tell you when you get here."

Daniel dropped the phone back in the cradle, his fatigue forgotten.

Their first clue to this ever-deepening mystery had finally emerged—from a surprising source.

XXXXXXXXXX

"And you got this where?" Doctor Janet Fraiser asked, her voice full of skepticism as she fingered the small leather pouch Sam had deposited in her hand.

"Daniel found it in his pack when he was going through it," Sam answered, dropping down to sit in one of Janet's office chairs. Sam and Daniel had gone directly to her office after they had had time to digest Daniel's finding.

"And what do you think this is?" Janet asked.

"We think it might have something to do with the memory lapses we suffered when we first got back from P5X-171," Daniel said, his eyes filled with excitement. "According to the note, the substance in the pouch is usually steeped in water and served to the unsuspecting victims as a tea, but a more concentrated form could also be inhaled as a gas. I guess kind of along the lines of chloroform. It is supposed to make the victim open to suggestions."

"Are you saying that this is some kind of hypnotic drug?" Disbelief filled Janet's voice, her eyes wide. Janet had seen a lot over the years and it was hard to surprise her anymore. They, apparently, had.

"Yeah," Sam said.

"And you got all this from a note that was left in your bag?"

"Yes," Daniel said.

"And who was this note from?"

"Well, Daniel thinks it's from Egan," Sam admitted, looking at Daniel for confirmation. He nodded firmly.

"You think?" Janet was not impressed.

"Janet, can you just test it and see if it will do what they said it will?" Sam asked, exasperated by her friend's reticence.

"Very well," Janet said, rising from her desk. "I'll send it down to the lab and see what they can come up with. I probably won't get anything until tomorrow sometime. Most of the lab technicians have gone home for the evening. They've been working round the clock on some of the other stuff you and SG5 brought back."

Janet stopped by the door to her office, turning to face them, her expression softening. "If there's anything, I'll be sure to let you know immediately. Now, why don't you go and get some sleep. You'll think better in the morning after a few hours' rest."

Sam and Daniel looked at each other, coming to the same conclusion. "We're really not tired," Sam said answering for the both of them.

"I don't care if you're not tired," Janet said, her voice firm, her eyes narrowing at Sam. "Do I have to make it an order?"

"No, you don't," Sam said with a sigh, reluctantly giving into Janet's command.

"Good."

As Janet walked away, Sam mumbled under her breath, a half-amused smile on her face, her tone teasing. "Neapoleonic power monger."

XXXXXXXXXX

After he walked Sam to her on-base quarters, Daniel found himself too wired to sleep.

The note in his pack had hinted that something had been done to them the first time they were on P5X-171—the very first night they were there. It didn't elaborate, but Daniel had got the general drift. Someone, using the ingredients available and some powerful mental suggestions, had managed to do something to SG1. Apparently, that something involved their mystery fourth team member—one Colonel O'Neill—and their inability to remember anything about him.

At first, Daniel thought that was preposterous, but then he recalled two things: they were dealing with weird, alien ingredients and a totally alien race. Who knew what they were capable of doing.

Daniel meandered through the base, his thoughts as restless as his spirit. Eventually, he ended up at the door to his office, a little unclear about how he'd got there. He paused for a moment before entering.

He moved efficiently around the room, turning on a small lamp. He rolled his television table over toward his office couch and retrieved his digital recorder from his pack before he settled down, attaching the wires to the appropriate connection ports. A few minutes later, he found himself staring at the gate on P5X-171, watching carefully as they started their hike to the village several days ago.

He frowned, leaning forward to adjust some of the settings. Once he got down to watching it—really watching it—he didn't want any interference. It had to be perfect.

He scrolled ahead quickly, the images on the screen moving comically in fast-forward. Whatever he wanted to see was in Meath, not along the way.

Eventually, they reached Meath and Daniel slowed down the recording to normal speed, sitting close to the screen, stopping it, rewinding it—examining every inch of his recording.

Daniel went through it three times that night, making notations in his field journal as he watched the tape, taking note of everything he saw along the way.

Eventually, Daniel shut the television off and turned off the lights, settling down on his couch, his body stiff and sore from tension and his intense concentration.

As his breath evened out in slumber, he sighed softly, sleep finally overtaking him.

This night, though, he dreamed.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jack jerked himself awake, looking around uneasily, unfamiliar with his surroundings. Moonlight illuminated the room strangely, the cold blue-white light at odds with the warmer tones of the raging fire before him.

Someone had removed his boots, lifting his feet to rest on another chair, and a blanket had been placed over his body. Jack blinked his eyes, trying to remember, trying to recall how he got there. Images came back slowly, the walk back from the Stargate, the words of Lady Morgana, her thin little neck between—

"Ah, God," he grumbled a few moments later, the pain passing slowly, the memories fully restored. He remembered everything now.

He pulled the blanket off his body to stand—swaying a little on his feet—trying to stretch some of the kinks out of his back. His clothes were more or less dry—stiff in spots from crusted, dried mud that cracked and fell to the floor in small clumps.

"Whoops," Jack said quietly, insincerely, looking at the stained chair and the debris on the floor.

He started perusing his quarters, poking his head and hands into the drawers and closets, sticking his fingers in the basin of water in the bathroom, sniffing the bar of soap on the counter, patting the pile of towels, pushing aside the tapestries to see what they covered. No hidden passageways here, he thought absently, fingering the thick, coarse fabric of the tapestry by the hallway door.

He peered outside and was shocked to find the hallway empty. No guards, he thought, his eyebrows rising in surprise. It would be easy just to walk out the door and right back to the Stargate. All he had to do was dial Chulak and then he'd borrow Bra'tac's GDO and he'd hop right back to Earth. Simple. Easy. Piece of cake.

Or so he thought.

He woke up several minutes later, sprawled on the floor just inside the doorway, his hands clutching his head in agony. "Okay. That wasn't what I had in mind," Jack grumbled, gritting his teeth as he finally managed to find his feet. He would have ended back on the floor if he hadn't steadied himself on the wall. Jeez Louise, he thought, rubbing his right hand against his temple, above the small scar he now carried.

Not only did the device hurt, but also, he thought he might have hit his head on the way down. At least, that's what it felt like as his probing fingers found a small knob on the back of his head.

Great, he thought with a sneer, knock yourself out, why don't you. Like you haven't been through enough.

He walked back into the small bathroom, eyeing the basin of lukewarm water warily. Common sense won out, however. Before getting into bed, it would be best to clean off some of the dirt and grime, even though the lighting wasn't the greatest.

Jack stepped back into the main room and grabbed an unlit torch from its place on the wall. Holding it in the flames of the fire, he lit it, and carried it back to the bathroom, placing it in the appropriate location.

A few minutes later, a much cleaner O'Neill poked his head out the door, checking to make sure the room was clear. He dashed into the bedroom, a meager excuse for a towel around his waist, and rummaged through the closet, eventually finding something suitable to wear.

He moved the torch to the main room before climbing into the bed and pulling the sheets up over his chest, resigned to the current situation.

In the back of his mind he knew he'd figure out a way to get home. It was just a matter of time. All he needed was time and, from the looks of it, he had all the time in the world.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Daniel?" Sam called, knocking at his office door while at the same time pushing it open. It was about 1100 hours and no one had seen Daniel yet this morning. Sam decided she had better start looking—just in case he had decided to wander off somewhere in the middle of the night.

As the light from the hallway pierced the darkness of the lab, it revealed the slumbering form of one Daniel Jackson.

Shaking her head in amusement, Sam stepped into the room and moved to click on Daniel's desk lamp. It was a little less obtrusive than the overhead fluorescent lights. Looking down at the sleeping archeologist, Sam decided to start the coffee first before she woke him. From the looks of the office—the television and recorder within arm's reach of the couch, his journal on the floor along with his glasses and a pencil, and Daniel in a very rumpled uniform—he had been up to something last night. Probably very late last night if she had to guess.

A few minutes later, the coffee was brewing and she turned her attention back to Daniel. She smiled sadly at him, her heart breaking a little at the sight. The dark circles under his eyes were still visible, the lines deep around his mouth and eyes. He was frowning in his sleep, she realized. Never a good sign.

Glancing over at the gurgling appliance in the corner, she observed a good bit of steam was rising from the general vicinity and the smell of brewing coffee filled the air.

It was time.

Sam perched herself on the edge of the couch and leaned over, gently shaking Daniel's arm, trying to wake him slowly—without frightening him to death. "Daniel. Hey, Daniel, it's time to wake up. The coffee's just about ready."

Daniel twitched slightly, slowly opening one glazed eye to see who was bothering him. He closed it after a moment's contemplation, sighing deeply. "What time is it?"

Always the morning person Daniel was, Sam thought with a smirk. She glanced at her watch before answering Daniel's grumbled question. "A little after 1100. What time did you go to bed is the question I'd like answered." She playfully teased Daniel's hair, running her fingers through it. "Weren't you supposed to go to sleep?"

"I did," Daniel said indignantly, his tired blue eyes finally popping open in unison. "As you can see, I was sleeping."

"I noticed. What time, Daniel?"

"I don't know," he mumbled sheepishly. "I stopped looking some time after three."

"And how much longer did you work after that?" Sam's eyes were accusing, but her tone was light.

Daniel tried to shrug, but it was difficult in his reclining position. "I don't know. I probably ended up calling it a night around 5 or 6." Daniel paused for a moment, his gaze faraway. "I would have had enough sleep if it wasn't for those damn nightmares," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What nightmares?" Sam said, touching his arm gently, trying to reassure him.

"I don't really remember, Sam," he admitted, looking her in the eye. "It's just a jumble of images. It's probably just the culmination of all the crap that we've been going through. Nothing to worry about." He paused for a beat, before changing the subject. "So, where's that coffee I smell?"

Sam looked Daniel over before rising to her feet to fetch the requested beverage from across the room. He wasn't going to get away with the change of subject that easily. "You know, Daniel, there might be more to those dreams than you think."

"What do you mean? A dream is a dream is a dream," Daniel said, levering himself up on his elbows.

Sam watched as he squinted, trying to see her over the lab table in the middle of the room. Apparently, he finally realized he wasn't getting anywhere and swung his feet to the floor. He picked up his glasses, and once they were settled on his nose, aimed his gaze back at Sam who was watching him and fixing herself a cup of coffee.

"Then why did you start getting them now?"

"Sam, I just saw someone get their throat slit open. Anyone could get nightmares from that," Daniel said indignantly, his back stiffening a little. "You don't have to treat me with kid gloves. I've seen that look before, Sam."

"But Daniel—"

"Sam," he said the tone of his voice warning.

"Fine, Daniel," Sam said, handing him the warm mug of black coffee. "I'll leave it alone."

Daniel took a sip of the beverage, a contented smile creeping across his face. "This is good, Sam. Thanks. Do you think Janet got the results yet?"

"No," Sam said, leaning back against the lab table. She knew he was hiding something, but for now, she'd humor him. "Some of us actually sleep at night instead of all day long."

Daniel rolled his eyes at her teasing. "You know I'm not a morning person. It's just better for me to sleep right through morning and get started first thing in the afternoon."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam said, stepping toward the door. "I'm going to go back to my lab. You going to be okay?"

"Yes, mom. I'll be fine," Daniel said, his grin wide.

She ignored his dig at her mothering. "Do you want to take a walk down to Janet's lab later this afternoon to check on her progress? I was thinking about going down around 1400."

"Sounds good, Sam," Daniel said. "I'll meet you in your lab then."

"Great. I'll see you later, Daniel," Sam said, stepping into the hallway.

She was glad that she had found Daniel, but something was bothering her. There was something he wasn't telling her. I guess I just have to wait him out, she thought. And I'm very good at waiting.

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel sighed deeply once Sam stepped through the door, her final words echoing behind her, as the door slowly closed. "Great. I'll see you later, Daniel."

For a few minutes, Daniel had thought she was going to try and psychoanalyze him, digging into the hidden meanings of his dreams—well, nightmares in this case. He pushed himself up from the couch, padding across the room to pour himself another mug of coffee. He yawned widely. The caffeine hadn't hit his system yet.

Scratching absently at his head, he kept running the images that he remembered through his head. There were just bits and pieces here and there, but they all blended together. Older memories mixed with newer ones. He was just glad that she had backed off when he'd asked. He didn't need mothering. He got enough of it from Jack.

His eyed widened in surprise while his mug dropped from his hand in a magnificent crash, the ceramic breaking into several pieces, splashing hot liquid on his boots and all over the floor.

Where had that come from?

With trembling hands, he moved to his closet, pulling out a broom as he tried to clean up his mess. A knock at the door sounded a minute later, quickly followed by a timid voice.

"Doctor Jackson? Is everything okay in there?"

Of course, someone had to have been walking by when he dropped his mug. "Yes, everything's fine. Just dropped something," Daniel said raising his voice so he could be heard out in the hallway.

"Okay. Just wanted to make sure."

"Thanks. I appreciate it," Daniel said, as he resumed sweeping up the mess, his mind going over the words that had somehow popped into it. Somehow, he was starting to remember. Something was triggering his memories—which meant that they were all still there, just repressed somehow.

"I'm not going to say anything until I'm sure," Daniel said out loud, trying to convince himself. "It could just be a fluke. Maybe it was nothing. But I won't say anything until I know for sure."

Daniel nodded to himself, sweeping the rest of his thoughts on the matter, and the remnants of the ceramic mug, into a dark corner. He'd deal with them later. Right now, he had some cataloging to do.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sam looked up from her computer to see Daniel hovering on the threshold of her office looking a little peaked.

"Hey, Daniel. Come on in. I'm just about ready to go down and see Janet," she said, saving a number of the documents on which she was currently working. She never had enough time to do everything she wanted. She just usually ended up juggling several things from mission reports to scientific research. Sometimes she still wished she had access to those armbands Anise had brought. At least she had had the ability to complete one of her long-standing projects, her book on wormhole physics.

Daniel sheepishly dragged himself into the room, leaning heavily on his elbow at the edge of Sam's lab table. He looked a little worn around the edges, even worse than before. He was still in his rumpled uniform and stubble was appearing on his face.

"Daniel, are you okay?" She asked, her computer forgotten.

"I'm not sure, Sam," Daniel admitted reluctantly, his forehead creasing, a frown finding a way to his mouth.

"What's wrong?" Sam was worried, very worried. When Daniel started admitting he wasn't feeling well, it usually meant that he was just about ready to drop dead.

"I..." Daniel said, pausing, seemingly at a loss for words. Sam waited him out and he continued a moment later, his words quiet. "I think I'm starting to remember."

"What? Remember what?" Sam said, stepping close to him, her arms across her chest hugging herself in a familiar Daniel pose.

"I've been working, trying to catalog a number of artifacts I've accumulated over the past several months...and it's almost like...I don't know. Every time I start thinking about missions and stuff, I'm starting to get images, even hear voices and it's starting to worry me." Daniel raised his head up to meet Sam's concerned gaze. His reddened eyes were wide, frantic even. "Could they have done something to us again?"

"Why would they have to? We gave them no reason to." Sam looked Daniel over critically. He was wringing his hands, his eyes darting around, unable to hold her gaze for longer than a brief moment. "Could this be what's causing your nightmares?"

"Maybe," Daniel agreed after a few moments' thought.

"Let's go down and see what Janet has to say. She should have something for us by now. Besides, I want to have her check you over. You don't look too good," Sam said, moving to the door. When Daniel didn't move, she stepped back to grab him by the arm. "Come on."

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he said, allowing himself to be propelled forward by Sam's momentum.

But just before they stepped out of her office, Sam's phone gave its insistent tone. She ran back and caught the phone on its third ring.

"Carter."

"Sam, it's Janet."

"Oh, hi Janet. We were just coming down to see you." Sam noticed Daniel hovering at the door, openly listening to her conversation.

"Sam, I think you and Daniel need to come down here," Janet said, her voice serious.

"Why? What did you find?" A pit formed in her stomach. Oh God, what could it be? She glanced back at Daniel. She realized she must have reacted at Janet's comment since Daniel looked like he had dropped several more shades of color from his face. She didn't think he could get much whiter than he already was.

"Just come down. I'll tell you once you get here."

"Okay. We'll be there in a few minutes." Sam hung up the phone, her eyes wide.

"What?" Daniel asked, his eyes a mirror image of Sam's.

"Janet found something. She wants us down there," Sam reported, stepping close to Daniel.

"I guess we should go. We can't keep the good doctor waiting," Daniel said, trying for levity, meeting Sam's expectant gaze.

"Let's go."

XXXXXXXXXX

When they reached the infirmary, they were directed by one of the nurses to Janet's personal laboratory. Daniel and Sam exchanged an uneasy look before walking to the back of infirmary in silence, winding their way past several labs and offices.

Sam tapped lightly on the doorframe once they reached the lab. Janet was inside, bending over one of the microscopes obviously deep in concentration. "Janet?" Sam called quietly.

Janet glanced up quickly, a smile crossing her features as she waved them in. "Sam, Daniel, come in. Take a seat." Janet's eyes were wide, her face a mix of emotions from amazement to confusion.

"Janet, what did you find?" Sam asked, settling on one of the tall stools, as Daniel dragged another chair closer.

"This stuff, whatever you call it, is amazing," Janet said simply, turning to Daniel. "Where did you say you got it?"

"I found it in my bag," Daniel said, shifting in his chair. He never liked it when she pierced him with her unwavering gaze. It usually meant he was in store for one lecture or another—none of which was a good thing. "I think Egan put it there when we were saying our final farewells to Lord Kentigern. Why?"

Janet absently ran her fingers through her hair before answering. "Somehow, this chemical has the ability to attach itself to the neurotransmitters in the brain. I've never seen anything like it." Daniel hadn't seen Janet at a loss for words often, so this was surprising.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, her eyebrows drawing together as she moved to look at the sample under the microscope.

"Since you mentioned that it might have something to do with your memory loss, I had a small sample analyzed and looked at its genetic structure. It's a perfect match for some of the chemicals in our brains, effectively bonding with them. But, from what I can hypothesize, the chemical eventually disintegrates, dissipating into the bloodstream and vanishing from the body," Janet's hands moved throughout her explanation, as if the movement helped propel her train of thought.

"Janet, this is amazing," Sam said, awe evident in her voice. She was still bending over the microscope, staring intently through the lenses.

"I know," Janet said, turning to Sam. "If someone could somehow directly affect what that chemical does once it's bonded, there's no saying what they could do."

Sam glanced up quickly, her eyes wide. "Janet, are you saying that this is what we were given?"

Janet nodded her head, her face grim. "Yes, I am."

"But, if it dissipates and essentially disappears from our bodies, why does it continue to affect us?"

"I'm not sure, exactly. It might have something to do with how it was used, the concentration of the chemical itself, or something else entirely."

Daniel was listening intently to their conversation, his chin resting in his hand, his elbows on the table before him. There was something else, something more than just a chemical.

"Janet," Daniel said, his voice quiet, but demanding. Janet and Sam stopped talking quickly, turning their attention to him.

"What is it, Daniel?" Janet asked.

"What if they could somehow affect our minds directly though telepathy or something like that?"

"Well, hypothetically, I guess that could happen, but I've yet to see someone able to do that." Janet wasn't convinced, although from the expression on Sam's face, she was at least considering it. At least she didn't think he was crazy, Daniel thought.

"Janet, "Daniel said, turning to face her, passion entering his voice. He knew he was right. He just had to put all the pieces together. "What if they had the same ability as Nem? He altered SG1's memories, giving Sam, Jack, and Teal'c false memories about my death. What if this chemical just enhances their natural ability?"

Janet's jaw had dropped open in the middle of Daniel's tirade, while Sam looked on, an expression of wonder on her face. "Daniel, what did you just say?" Janet's eyes were wide, her face almost matching the white of her coat.

"What do you mean?" He was confused. Didn't she remember the mission to P3X-866? How could she have forgotten? Daniel knew it had happened several years ago, but it was something he was sure he'd never forget. He'd never looked at sushi the same way since.

Janet looked at Sam, apparently looking for some assistance. Sam shrugged and offered a weak smile. "Ah...Janet...it seems like Daniel has been getting some flashes of memories."

"Since when?"

"Daniel?" Sam asked, her blue eyes focused on his face. He found he couldn't meet either of their eyes, instead choosing to stare at the floor, his eyes tracing the edge of the lab table, noting the specs of dirt the mop has failed to get.

"Since yesterday sometime. Maybe even a little before," he mumbled.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Janet was flabbergasted and a little upset. He couldn't really blame her.

Daniel looked up, finally meeting her eyes. "Because I didn't want to say anything until I was positive that I was actually remembering something."

"What have you remembered?" Janet's voice was calmer, her professional Doctor tone settling in.

Daniel shrugged. "Not much. It's bits and pieces. Sometimes it's a voice, a phrase, or a feeling. It's never the same and it's quick. Like now, it just came out. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, just about the mission."

"Janet, do you think that hypnosis might help bring out some of the memories? Maybe if we can remember more of what happened while we were in the village, it will help us to figure out what might have happened to all of us," Sam suggested, perching herself on the edge of the stool, her arms crossed.

"We could try," Janet said, her eyes getting a faraway look as she thought about Sam's suggestion. "I don't think it would hurt any. Daniel, would you be up for it?"

Daniel glanced nervously between Sam and Janet, but nodded slowly. "Sure. Anything's better than getting these fragmented feelings and memories."

Janet moved to the phone in the corner of the room, lifting the handset, and pressing one of the speed dial numbers. "Mary? Is Dr. MacKenzie around?"

"Janet, do we have to call him?" Sam asked, her tone sharp, but Janet waved her hand, indicating for Sam to be quiet.

Daniel was sure his face had become pale and waxen. He'd rather not have to deal with Dr. MacKenzie. They hadn't gotten along well after that whole incident with Ma'chello's Goa'uld killing machines and Daniel's visit to the padded room.

"How about Dr. LaMesa? Good. Can you ask her to meet us in my office as soon as she can? Great. Thanks." Janet turned back to them, a smile on her face. "Dr. LaMesa is here today so she should be able to help us out." She looked quizzically at Daniel who flashed her a wan smile. "Are you okay?"

"Peachy."

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel kept shifting on the couch in Janet's office. He couldn't seem to sit still.

Sam had turned one of the guest chairs around to face the couch so she could watch as Dr. Theresa LaMesa started the whole process of hypnotizing Daniel. Sam was thankful that Dr. MacKenzie was on a different rotation this week. The last thing Daniel needed was a visit from him. When Janet had mentioned his name back in the lab an hour ago, Sam could have sworn she had watched the blood drain from Daniel's face.

It hadn't been a pretty sight.

Over the next hour, while they waited for Dr. LaMesa to finish her rounds of patients, Daniel had tried forcing the memories, but it looked as if that only gave him a headache.

Now, he was sitting on the couch, his knees bouncing nervously as he tapped his feet. Dr. LaMesa was walking around the room adjusting the lighting and closing the doors. She wanted a quiet and dark atmosphere. She claimed it helped the patient to concentrate better.

"Dr. Jackson, I need you to relax. I'm not going to do anything to hurt you," LaMesa said in her musical Spanish accent. Her thick black hair was tied back tightly in a bun, making her features appear more severe than they should.

"I know," Daniel said quietly, drawing Sam's attention back to his anxious face. "It's just...I'm just worried about what might be hidden there, just beneath the surface."

LaMesa settled into the armchair directly across from Daniel, a light smile crossing her face. "Well, if that's all you're worried about, then you have nothing to fear. If you want, I can ask Dr. Fraiser and Major Carter to leave. It can just be you and me."

"No, no. I want them here," Daniel said, his eyes growing wider at LaMesa's suggestion. Apparently, leaving him alone with her was more frightening to Daniel. That surprised Sam.

"Okay then, I need you to concentrate on this watch," LaMesa said, beginning to swing a gold pocket watch before Daniel's eyes, her voice walking him through every step of the way. Sam watched as Daniel slowly relaxed, his eyes growing heavy and eventually closing.

"Dr. Jackson, we're going to go back in time. I want you to go back to just before you left for the original mission to P5X-171. Where are you?"

"In my office," Daniel's sleepy reply came.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for a book. We're getting ready to ship out but I need one of my Celtic books. I know it's here somewhere." Daniel's voice drops, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

"What happens when you look for the book? Do you find it?"

"No. Couldn't find the book. Sam should have helped me look, she would have found it."

Janet leaned over to LaMesa, whispering something in her ear.

"Dr. Jackson," LaMesa said a few beats later. "Did someone come to meet you in your office?"

"No. Was late for the departure. I ran all the way. General Hammond wasn't happy."

From Sam's perspective, it looked like Daniel was tensing up. He was restless, his feet moving steadily with a tapping motion. Sam managed to catch LaMesa's eye and mouthed for her to move on.

They kept this up for nearly two hours, leaving everyone mentally exhausted.

It seemed as if Daniel's memories of Colonel O'Neill were still elusive, dodging all of LaMesa's attempts to retrieve them. They left Daniel curled up on the couch asleep after that taxing session, when they walked into the hallway to talk.

"I can't do anything more," LaMesa said, rubbing her temples. "There's something there, he kept going around things, avoiding certain time periods, but for some reason I can't seem to be able to break through. I don't know what else I can do." LaMesa's expression was one of defeat.

"Janet, do you think my dad could help?" Sam asked, a thought flashing through her mind.

"I don't know, Sam. How?"

"I'm sure they have some of their memory devices. What if one of those could break through?"

Janet started nodding. "You know, that might be a good idea. Do you think General Hammond would approve?"

"I'll go ask him now," Sam said, pacing a few steps down the hallway, her mind a thousand miles away. She turned abruptly back to the two doctors. "Janet, will Daniel be okay?"

"He'll be fine, Sam," Janet said smiling. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll keep an eye on him."

"Okay." Sam paused, thinking carefully before she spoke again. She didn't think Daniel would mind if she told Janet about his disturbed sleep. "Janet, Daniel complained of nightmares last night. He might have some more tonight, especially now that we were trying to pull some of those memories to the surface."

Janet smiled, waves of comfort radiating off of her. "Don't worry, Sam. Go get your dad. Daniel will be just fine. Trust me."

Janet's smile followed her all the way down to level 28 and General Hammond's office.

XXXXXXXXXX

It took three days before Jacob Carter finally made his appearance in the gateroom of the SGC.

General Hammond had agreed immediately with Sam's suggestion to contact the Tok'ra, but it proved to be a little more difficult for Sam to get in touch with her father than she had originally anticipated. According to the Supreme High Councilor Per'sus, Jacob/Selmac was unavailable and currently on a mission. Per'sus would attempt to pass along the message, but he couldn't guarantee when Jacob would receive it.

It seemed that cooperation with the Tok'ra was going swimmingly—just as it always did. Even though Sam could understand the Tok'ra reluctance to confide information, it didn't make matters any easier. Relations between the two groups were quickly dropping to an all time low. She was sure that it was only a matter of time before something happened to upset their tenacious balance.

Sam decided to use the time as best she could and ended up prowling the halls restlessly when she could no longer concentrate on her scientific experiments. Daniel had buried himself in his translations and his cataloging. She had never seen him working so hard, so diligently. His focus was a little disturbing.

She was checking on him regularly, as were Janet and Teal'c and his flashes of memories continued to occur, shocking himself and everyone around him.

He was continuing to remember bits and pieces and he was recalling the strangest of things, mainly arguments between Colonel O'Neill and him—apparently, more than a few.

To Sam, it was a little unnerving to finally have proof that their minds had been tampered with. Also, it disturbed her on a more personal level. Of all the people involved—Daniel, Teal'c, and her—she had always considered herself to be strong, self-sufficient. She could handle anything. She'd been trained for some of this and she never thought that her mind was that weak, that fragile.

That was what worried her more than anything. If it could be done to her once, what said that it couldn't happen again?

Sam had finally gotten the courage to look up the Colonel's file—finding huge holes in most of his service record—but there, in black and white print was another confirmation. Mission reports, alongside photographs of the team—all four members of SG1. Some of the same pictures Janet had showed her weeks ago.

Even staring at the picture for hours on end hadn't jogged her memories one iota.

Now one question remained: how long would it take for her to regain those lost memories? What if she never did?

The klaxons shrieking their alarm jolted her out of her self-imposed reflection and she soon found her feet heading for the control room. There was an incoming traveler and no team was due back.

By the time she reached the gateroom, her father was halfway down the metal ramp, his Tok'ra garb still looking out of place. He wore it well, but for some reason it never fit him perfectly.

Selmac, though, had been the perfect companion, blending with him as if they were two sides of a coin. Sam even enjoyed Selmac's sense of humor, much to her father's dismay.

Sam ran the last few steps to meet her father at the base of the ramp, exchanging a warm embrace with him.

"Sammy," Jacob said, hugging his daughter tightly. He pulled back, his hands on either of Sam's shoulders, and his kind eyes alight with concern. "Now, what was the emergency that you had to pull me from a mission? Per'sus was not very forthcoming with information, but he expressed that there was some kind of urgency."

Sam sighed, feeling herself relax for the first time in weeks under his strong hands. "We seem to have a little problem and we were hoping that you might be able to help us. Did you bring the memory devices we asked for?"

"Yes, I brought them," he answered, his forehead creasing. "I don't understand why you need them, but I brought two with me." Jacob glanced quickly around the gateroom, noting his friend, General Hammond, observing from the control room alone. "Sam, what's going on? Where's the rest of SG1? Did Jack get himself into trouble again, or is it Daniel this time?"

"Dad, why don't you come with me. It might be easier for Janet to explain to you what we want to do," Sam said, leading her father toward the main bank of elevators.

"Janet? What does she have to do with this? What happened?" Jacob's voice was rising, his frustration plainly evident. A few turned heads caused Sam to pull her father into the elevator. She punched the level for the infirmary before she began speaking.

"Dad, it seems that SG1 has been having some memory problems over the past few weeks. We need you to help us remember what happened."

"Okay. So why all the cloak and dagger stuff? Why all the secrecy?" Jacob followed Sam out of the elevator onto level 21.

"Well, this has only affected Daniel, Teal'c, and myself," Sam said simply, keeping her head down.

"Wow. For something to affect a Jaffa it must be pretty potent." Jacob paused, realizing his daughter omission. "So, Jack's fine?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say that..." Sam trailed off, refusing to meet her father's eyes.

Jacob stopped suddenly in the middle of the hallway, pulling Sam to a stop beside him. His tone was firm and determined—the tone of a pissed off Air Force General. "Sam, what happened?"

She sighed, offering her father a shy half-smile. "Well, it's kind of hard to explain, which is why I wanted Janet to give you all the details—"

Jacob had had enough. "Major Carter, what's going on?" He bellowed as Sam's back went ramrod straight, her military training kicking in.

"Sir...Dad, it would be better if you just stepped into the infirmary..."

"I said now, young lady." Jacob wasn't backing down and her procrastination was only making more of a scene. As it was, several people had already stopped to watch their little chat.

"We left him behind," Sam mumbled.

"You what?"

Sam was convinced that the guard on level one had heard her father's roar. She closed her eyes in an effort to pull her thoughts together. "Dad, SG1 has been affected by some type of drug and our memories have been altered, but Daniel's starting to remember. We need your help to figure out what happened."

Jacob visibly calmed down, his breath evening out. The next time he spoke, he finally brought his voice down to a more normal level. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?"

"We're trying to keep it quiet, or at least as quiet as we can," Sam admitted.

"Well, then, what are you waiting for, let's find Doctor Fraiser," Jacob said, striding for the door of the infirmary.

Sam watched her father walk away from her in amazement. Throwing her hands up in the air, she rushed to catch up with him. Some things never changed. Her father was one of them.

XXXXXXXXXX

Daniel glanced up from his journal immediately when Jacob Carter strode into the room, followed closely by Sam. Daniel smiled and got to his feet, grasping Jacob's hand warmly.

"Jacob, it's good to see you. I'm glad Sam was able to get hold of you," Daniel said.

"Welcome, Jacob Carter and Selmac," Teal'c said, inclining his head in respect to the older Tok'ra. Teal'c had been standing guard over Daniel while they waited. Today, Daniel had had several flashback incidents and Janet had thought it best to keep him under observation. Teal'c had volunteered to watch Daniel, making sure he ate and slept when needed.

"It's good to see you too, Daniel, Teal'c. Sam explained that you all got yourselves into a little trouble," Jacob said, eyeing each member of SG1.

"Indeed," was the only audible reply Jacob received.

"So, Daniel," Jacob said after a few moments of silence, turning his attention to the archeologist. "How is it that you seem to be the only one remembering stuff?"

"I don't know, Jacob," Daniel answered, uncomfortable with the Tok'ra's scrutiny. He offered a small shrug. "I'm lucky, I guess."

"I'd say," Janet said from across the room, her heels clicking on the floor.

"What?" Sam said, speaking before Daniel could form the words.

"He's lucky that he started remembering. Until you brought back that herbal sample and he started having these flashbacks, we weren't sure how to proceed. How do you treat something that you can't figure out?" Janet said, reaching Daniel's side. She looked at him critically. Daniel tried not to cringe. She was probably measuring how deep his circles had gotten over the past few days. He was even afraid to look. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Daniel answered simply. "Nothing new."

Jacob was looking quizzically at Janet, his eyes intense, but it was Selmac who spoke. "Doctor Fraiser, what herbs did Daniel bring back?"

"They're a kind of hypnotic drug. Used alone, they leave the mind open to suggestion. We believe these herbs were used in conjunction with some type of precise mind control—a mind probe even. It effectively erased Colonel O'Neill from all of their memories." Janet paused, looking from face to face. "Why Daniel is starting to remember and no one else, I can't explain. I'm just grateful that we're getting some kind of break."

"I agree," Selmac said, his voice thoughtful. "Doctor Fraiser, would it be possible to see this herb before I apply the memory device to Daniel Jackson? I'm curious to see what it is."

Janet nodded in agreement. "Sure. Sam, why don't you get Daniel set up in one of the private rooms. I don't think he'll want an audience for this."

Daniel looked back and forth between the two, annoyance plainly evident on his face. "It's not like I'm here or anything," he commented sarcastically. "I can get myself settled in the private room, thank you very much."

"Daniel, I know you can, but I'd rather make sure you got there instead of wandering back to your office," Janet said, teasing slightly.

Daniel's face twisted in annoyance. "I wasn't going to go there," he said indignantly. He was more annoyed by the fact that she had read him like a book. He needed to grab one or two artifacts from his office to complete the section of his report he was working on. He had just been waiting for a break to run the few levels up to his lab.

"Sure you weren't," Janet said, smiling kindly. She turned her attention back to Sam. "Jacob and I will join you in a few minutes."

"Sure, Janet," Sam said, taking Daniel's arm in her hand and leading him toward one of the infirmary doors.

"Hey," Daniel protested, trying to pull his arm away from Sam.

"Come on, Daniel. No side trips right now," Sam said, her tone firm. "Let's get one thing done at a time."

Daniel sighed, giving in. "Fine, Sam. Lead the way."

XXXXXXXXXX

Jacob and Janet met up with them twenty minutes later, entering the small room obviously in the middle of a lengthy conversation. Jacob's face was filled with concern and curiosity while Janet continued to explain some of her research.

"Hi, guys," Daniel said, breaking into their conversation.

Jacob and Janet stopped dead in their tracks, their conversation ceasing immediately as they looked at Daniel as if he had three heads and seventeen arms.

Daniel ignored the look, and continued speaking, "Are we ready to get started? I'm awfully tired of just getting pieces of things here and there. I feel like someone's channel surfing in here," he grumbled, pointing to his head.

Sam tried to bite back a smile as she watched her father and Janet exchange a look. Daniel was obviously very nervous and not looking forward to another round with the memory devices. From their two run-ins with the devices—first with Hathor and the second with Apophis—Sam was sure that he didn't want a repeat performance. Although she was sure that Daniel trusted her father, the uncertainty of what they might find worried Daniel. It worried her, too, but she didn't want to admit it. If they couldn't fix that had happened, how would the military treat them? Would SG1 be allowed to continue as they were? She doubted it.

"Okay, Daniel," her father was saying as Sam dragged her attention back to the present conversation. Her father had stepped into the room and had settled Daniel on one of the beds, his feet stretched out in front of him. "This will hurt a little when I put it in."

"I know," Daniel said, his reply curt and quiet.

Much to Sam's amazement, Daniel didn't even flinch when the memory device was inserted. Daniel even remained silent while her father adjusted the device with the handheld controller.

"It's in, Daniel," Jacob said. "Now all you have to do is relax."

"Yeah. That's easier said than done," Daniel grumbled, closing his eyes.

"Daniel, do you want us to leave?" Sam asked. If Daniel wanted privacy, she'd clear the level if it were necessary.

Daniel's eyes flew open, meeting her eyes across the room. "No. Please stay."

"Just say the word, Daniel, and we'll leave if you want us to," Sam said, sitting down in one of the hard-backed plastic chairs as Janet lowered the light in the room. Teal'c stood silently beside the closed door at parade rest, his hands clasped together behind him.

"I know, Sam," Daniel said, his eyes flashing his gratitude for her support.

"Daniel Jackson," Selmac said, cutting into their silent communication. Apparently, her father had stepped aside, allowing Selmac control. "I am not going to hook this up to a viewscreen, so you will have to verbally walk us through your memories. Will that be agreeable with you?"

Daniel nodded his head, his eyes wide and his hands clenched together so tightly the knuckles were white.

"Daniel Jackson, let's go back a few weeks to the day you were scheduled to go to the planet for the first time. Do you remember what happened that morning?" Selmac asked, his tone calm and even. "Just say the first thing that comes to mind. The memory device should help you to access the memories that have been out of reach."

"Yes, I remember that day," Daniel answered quickly, his eyes gaining a faraway look as he delved into his memories. Sam remembered when Martouf had used the device on her to gain the memories of Jolinar. It was amazing how real those memories could become.

"What do you remember?"

"I remember racing to the mountain. I had to find a book before we left," Daniel said slowly, his eyes sliding halfway shut, reliving the moments again. Selmac gently prodded Daniel forward, step by step.

"What were you feeling once you reached your office?"

"I was tired. Hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before. I was trying to hurry. Jack hadn't been in a good mood for the past week or so and, for some reason, he was taking it out on me," Daniel said.

"What do you mean?"

"Jack was on the edge. It was almost the same as when we first met for the Abydos mission, but it was different. I'd tried to talk to him a couple of times, but he just brushed me aside. There was something wrong. Something was eating at him from the inside."

Sam sat silently still, listening to the words pouring from Daniel's mouth. The memories were there, within each of them, just hidden away, pushed to the side. Somehow Daniel had been able to punch holes in the veil within his mind, letting him see bits and pieces. Finally, with the help of the Tok'ra, he was—they all were—seeing the big picture.

Words continued to tumble from Daniel's mouth, with the gentle leading of Selmac, they pushed forward, traveling back to the planet in Daniel's memory. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes to hours.

"I couldn't believe my eyes when Jack took Lady Morgana's hand and bowed regally over it as if he'd been doing it all his life. He loves to keep those little tricks up his sleeves and pull them out when we least suspect," Daniel was saying. "Once we put our eyes back in our heads we settled down for a very pleasant dinner. Lord Kentigern was most hospitable."

"What happened after dinner, once you got back to you rooms?" Selmac asked calmly, quietly.

"Kelan walked us back to the rooms and we all called it a night—even though it was very early morning," Daniel said, but his forehead creased, his expression changing to confusion.

"What do you see, Daniel?" Selmac asked, sitting up straighter on the stool beside the bed.

"I remember hearing something," Daniel said, concentrating hard, focusing on the memory.

"Don't force it. Let it come naturally," Selmac advised. "Did you hear something?"

"Yes. I was asleep, but something woke me. It sounded like the swinging of a door or something," Daniel said, pausing for a minute. Shock and astonishment quickly flashed across his face and he screamed. "Oh God! Jack!" Daniel lurched forward, his eyes opening wide. "Oh God, Sam. We left him there," he sobbed. "We left him there and he asked for my help."

As soon as Daniel had started yelling, Sam immediately raced to his side, holding his hand tightly, trying to help ground him in the here and now. "Daniel, you have to calm down. What are you talking about?"

Daniel's frantic eyes finally found purchase on her face. "Sam, I can remember everything. We left Jack there. I remember seeing Lady Morgana in the room that night, hovering over me and that's when everything changed." Daniel's eyes hardened, focusing desperately on Sam's. "Do you remember the man they were searching for?"

Sam nodded her head warily, the pit in her stomach swelling. She knew where this was going.

"It was Jack, Sam. They were searching for Jack, not the representative from the other village. When I got up to go to the bathroom during the negotiations, he pulled me into one of the empty rooms and he asked for my help. He tried to reach out to me, but I couldn't remember him. I turned my back and then he was gone." Daniel's tear-filled eyes clutched at Sam's heart. "He depended on us and we left him behind. We didn't even lift a hand to help him. He was probably waiting for us to come back for him, but we just left him there. We left him there with Lady Morgana. Oh God, Sam, what have we done?"