Sam stared up at the ceiling in one of the rooms that had recently been converted to house personnel staying the night or visiting offworld dignitaries. Not that they'd had any visiting alien dignitaries yet, but if they did they'd be ready for it. The furnishings and décor hadn't all arrived yet, and knowing the military wouldn't show up for a while, but the bed was there and there were sheets and blankets, and there was an alarm clock, and that was all that mattered. She rolled over to check the clock; three minutes had passed since she'd checked last. She'd been staring up at the ceiling for about an hour, all told, and didn't feel any closer to sleep than when she'd lain down.

She was just so mad! It wasn't Jack's fault, she knew it wasn't, but God! She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to convince herself she didn't blame him. It was a lot harder now, in the dark alone, than it was when she was in the lab discussing technical details with Janet.

Regret ran side by side with anger and fear in her head. He was a good man, and a fine officer, but she'd been too caught up in her own fears and issues to give him half a chance. Not that he was a saint, but somehow, right this minute, his flaws didn't seem that big.

She had to go to sleep. She needed rest; the baby needed rest. There was nothing more she could do, and Jack would want her to take care of the baby. She knew that much about him, at least. Unfortunately, she'd gotten herself stuck in one of those endless sleep-deprivation loops. The more you worried about not sleeping, the more awake you got, the less likely you were to fall asleep, and the more you worried. She hadn't had one this bad since just after her mother died, and Dad and Mark started fighting more. She'd hated listening to them go at one another, and had lain in bed for hours dreading the next day's fights on a regular basis. Starting that cycle over was the last thing she needed.

Sighing, Sam rolled out of bed. That was the only time in her life that she'd prayed on her knees, those dark hours alone in a quiet house, but it had worked. She wasn't about to kneel on the bare concrete floor, though, so she sat cross-legged on the bed and tried to steady her breathing. Folding her hands, she bowed her head, consciously relaxing each muscle group as she did so. "God," she whispered, "please bring Jack home safe."

Oddly enough, Jack hadn't had any nightmares that night. Maybe it had something to do with the way Pelops' mini bugs knocked everyone out, but he hadn't dreamed at all. He had aged, though; he could tell from how much stiffer his body felt and how long and white his hair was. After the shocked reaction of the Argosians at his appearance (again) he'd refused to look in a mirror.

Kynthia hadn't come to the temple with him today, thank God. She hadn't been any help in the search yesterday, and she made his skin crawl. Jack shuddered in remembrance before continuing his close inspection of the stairs to the Stargate.

"What're you doing?"

Jack straightened stiffly and turned to face the child standing behind him. He had brown hair and dark eyes, and he clutched a toy in one hand. If Jack had to guess, he looked about seven years old. "Who're you?" he asked, voice cracking from disuse.

"Dan-el," the boy said.

Jack winced a little, remembering the real Daniel. He couldn't look after the kid, help him find his wife, if he was dead. Daniel had lost so much so fast, thanks to that slimy snakehead Apophis. "Hey," he said. The kid had been about five just the day before. This goa'uld had taken the kid's childhood, just like he'd taken Daniel's family. "I'm looking for something Pelops hid."

"Why?"

"Because if I can find it, maybe I can stop us from aging so fast," Jack replied. He turned back to the steps.

"Oh." There was a pause, and a crash. Jack twisted to watch the kid pick up the toy he'd dropped—it looked like some kind of crude doll. "What does it look like?" he asked.

"I don't know," Jack admitted. "It'll probably have wires or buttons or blinking lights or something. I'll know it when I see it."

"Why did he hide it?" Dan-el frowned, biting his lip. "That wasn't very nice of him. Mama says I shouldn't hide things other people want."

"Pelops didn't want us to find it and turn it off," Jack said as he went back to inspecting the stairs. "And no, it wasn't very nice of him. He's not a nice person."

"Oh. That's what Dad said today." They stood in silence for a while as Jack ran his hands over the smooth stone, feeling for rough spots or grooves that might indicate hidden panels. "I'm good at finding stuff," the boy announced proudly. "I'll help."

"Thanks," said Jack, grateful for the company.

Jack and Dan-el had worked together for about an hour when a noisy crowd of Argosians interrupted them. They hadn't found anything, and Dan-el hadn't done much besides play, but Jack had enjoyed talking with the kid. Children were, after all, his favorite people. He forced aside the thought of his own unborn child.

Jack turned to see a steady parade of villagers in bright, filmy clothes bringing offerings to lay before the statue. "Excuse me," he said, walking towards them, "what are you doing?"

Alekos, who had led the procession, turned to him. "Your people do not have enough knowledge to help us. We must ask Pelops to return."

His faith in a snakehead infuriated Jack. Hadn't he been listening the day before when Jack told him what the bastard had done? "Oh, for crying out loud!" He grabbed the nearest dish and smashed it for emphasis. "Ol' Pelops doesn't give a rat's ass about things like love and human life! His kind kidnap people like you and take them to other worlds to be used as slaves!" At the blank looks, he went on. "Animals. Objects to be used, owned, studied, thrown away and killed when they're not useful anymore." He seemed to be getting through; the Argosians were looking confused and hurt at least. Jack would've been angry, in their shoes, but from what he'd seen these people didn't know how to be angry.

Alekos frowned. "Pelops thinks of us as his slaves?" He glanced around at his people before lifting his chin high. "Then I will no longer be one of the Chosen."

Amid gasps and fearful glances at the statue, Thetyes stepped forward to take her husband's arm. "Nor will I." She blinked back tears.

"That's the message you ought to be sendin'!" Jack crowed.

Like sheep, the Argosians followed the strongest clear voice and stepped forward one by one or in groups to denounce Pelops. This was followed by much confusion, as the Argosians tried to figure out what to do next.

Seeing more than one glance his way, Jack offered a helpful suggestion. "Y'know, if you're not gonna be Pelops' people anymore, maybe you ought to take down that statue." It was something to do, and its loss would hopefully stop people from turning back to it out of habit.

"But it was erected by Pelops," protested one of the villagers who'd been in the last group to denounce their god. "We cannot bring it down."

"Why not?" Jack asked him. This seemed to take the wind out of his sails and he looked around for support. He didn't precisely get any, but then again, no one was entirely sure they could, either, from the looks of things.

"It is stone," Thetys said. "How could we bring it down?"

Jack shrugged, remembering pictures of Moscow and Berlin in the crumbling of the Warsaw Pact nations. "Got any rope?"

"Hey, how are you feeling this morning?"

Sam looked blearily up from her dry toast and cheerios to see Janet standing in front of her, coffee mug in hand. Normally, Sam hated dry toast, and cheerios were really boring without fruit or sugar on top, but they were soothing to the stomach. "Ok, I guess," she said, glancing around at the others having an early breakfast in the commissary. She was dying to talk things through with the other woman, but not in public. "I didn't sleep too well."

"I can see that," Janet said, eyeing her. "Want to walk me back to the infirmary?"

"Sure," Sam said. "Just let me finish my juice."