She was sulking. Of course she was alone, so she was allowed to sulk. Sulk and stare at her screen and pout like the little girl she always wanted to be, not the one that had to constantly be strong when in sight of her father.

Now he showed more emotion than she did.

Sam cursed and keyed up another search in her files. She was certain there was something there about the Tekani, something hidden, some fact or factoid that she could pull out of her ass and throw at the team rather than sitting there like a lump of blond hair and boobs. She tugged at her shirt in annoyance. Her fever was sweating off, again, and she had removed her bra for comfort. She cursed the men for not having to put up with such accouterments.

She reached for her juice, blinking away the blurriness. The screen danced stubbornly in front of her, taunting her like a playful child, not sitting still long enough to be useful. Dammit, what good was she if she couldn't even think straight?

Not much. And the cold medicine was kicking in.

Sam sneezed, not able to stop herself before reaching for the tissue. At least the nausea had stopped. One week with no food and an IV for two days after had Janet on pins and needles. She didn't like for her friends to be hurt, or ill, and she had formed a bond with the foremost stargate team. She and Sam had become very close, to the point where Janet was a bit obsessive about her friend's health, as though that was the main thing she could offer in exchange for companionship. It was good to have such a close buddy as a doc. It also sucked to have such a close buddy as a doc.

Sam had finally convinced Janet to let her use one of the quarantine rooms rather than staying in the infirmary. Then she could work in peace without the eagle eye watching for signs of weakness, not unlike what she was currently experiencing. Her eyes were drooping, her movements sluggish. There was a near overwhelming urge to sleep, and she gave in, closing her computer and putting it on the table beside her. She curled up in her bed, still trying to work out the latest crisis in a muddled brain.

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Daniel could just hear the roar outside, and feel the air grow heavier. He coughed weakly, waving his good hand in front of his face, but it just seemed to stir more dust. No, not dust, sand. It was stirring sand. There was sand trickling in between the beams. Terrific. He palmed the floor, scooped up a handful of sand and allowed it to filter through his fingers. Then he passed his upturned palm through the air until he found the leak. It wasn't pouring in slowly. He wouldn't be that lucky. Well. Got ourselves in a bit of a rut, haven't we Daniel?

I'd say so.

"I'd hope you'd be more useful than that." Daniel winced and realized he could lift his head slightly higher this time. Was he stronger, or just more desperate?

Ready to dig again?

"Are you kidding? This crap is coming in on me!"

Then maybe you should leave.

"Stating the obvious isn't helpful either, Jack."

That's what you do! Jack was offended.

"No, that's how you perceive it."

Maybe. The stick appeared in Daniel's hand.

"Does this mean I've passed out again?" Daniel reached out and realized he held nothing, he was talking to no one, and again there was no hole. He cautiously touched his head and felt moisture and a pain that rivaled only his chest being blown apart by a staff weapon. Then he had been able to crawl to a sarcophagus. "So," he said aloud, "I'm hallucinating." Okay. Not the best thing, but he could raise his head higher. He tried again to shift the beam that held him down, wondering if the loose sands had somehow caused the partially propped beam to become dislodged. It had, and he pushed, then cried out as it shifted downwards, landing full on his abdomen and chest. Sand poured over his face. Daniel tossed his head from side to side frantically, coughing and sputtering until it settled. "Aw, DAMMIT! Son of a BITCH!" He never felt more helpless in his life. The coughing continued as the sand stream to his right continued to flow. Tears of frustration flowed as well.

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The sand storm had eased, creating small dunes on what had been a desolate landscape. The team wasted no time in exiting their tents to a dismal scene; there was no sign of a dig anywhere. No sign that anyone had been in the area, other than the tent they took refuge in. Jack turned to Teal'c. "Let me see the map." Teal'c handed it over, and Jack studied it, turning it one way and the next, until he pointed. "Here. This has to be it."

"Are you certain, O'Neill?"

"No."

"Then I will look." Teal'c accepted the map and frowned at it, then gazed out over the sands. His sigh was deep. "This is difficult."

"I'm really, really hoping Daniel isn't buried under that. It would give needle in a haystack a bad name." Jack pulled out his compass and glanced up at the sun, then back at the map.

Teal'c nodded and continued to study. "I believe we should take your first suggestion, O'Neill. It does look like the best place to start." He pointed to an invisible point in the distance.

"Right." Jack turned. "You guys keep your ears on."

"Yes sir," Sgt Miller replied, and positioned his men around the gate. Jack and Teal'c covered their mouths with bandanas and started out.

Breathing sandpaper would have been easier. The air was tight and dry, hazy in the odd sunlight. There were no shadows, nothing to cast one. The sands twisted in a snakelike pattern that was no more than the fingerprint of the wind as they walked toward a faint horizon, seeming to go nowhere. Jack felt like he was walking in place and to stop several times to get his bearings, finally sitting in the sand to study the map. Teal'c didn't complain, but sat heavily beside his friend.

Jack surveyed the area. His jaw worked, he chewed the inside of his lips, worried his cheek. His eyes were squinted behind the dark glasses. He removed them and wiped his face with the back of his gloved hand, then removed the glove and did it again. Pinching his temples, he then sat motionlessly.

Teal'c knew better than to try and reassure O'Neill. He himself was flooded with guilt and pessimism. It was unusual to feel so hopeless, and yet for a moment as he looked out over the large dunes, he did. O'Neill wasn't exaggerating when he mentioned the needle in the haystack. This would be like finding a tel nor in a vaktalorak. He sat quietly. Closed his eyes. A quick session of Kel'Noreem probably wouldn't hurt, if O'Neill was going to rest and think. He relaxed. He could remember the time when Daniel was misplaced, out of phase, a result of looking into a crystal skull that held more power than anyone knew. He had been in Kel'Noreem then, and felt a presence. He didn't realize it then, but it had been Daniel, there in the room with him, pleading for help. He had realized there were times when he was able to reach out during his session, and touch those he cared about. Without the aid of his symbiote it was much harder to do. But if he could reach out, just maybe. . . he could remember Daniel's touch in his mind, a blueprint. He allowed his body to relax further.

A tap on the shoulder brought him back. Jack's glasses were back on, his face unreadable. Without another word they stood and continued the trek across the dunes.

Jack walked in silence. Teal'c resisted the urge to glance at the colonel, to inquire, to press him to talk. He knew humans often preferred to suffer rather than admit their discomfort, but something about his demeanor was going past the concern for the well being of a friend. He finally spoke. "Something else troubles you, O'Neill."

The statement left no room for an out. Jack frowned. "What makes you say that?"

"You look exceptionally disturbed."

"Oh, I don't know. Just have my friend trapped underground, dead or alive, and by god he better be alive. Or I'll kill him myself." Teal'c puzzled about the statement as O'Neill continued. "I can't believe they left him to die. After all he did for them, they won't help. Useless pieces of, they're good for a spit. Slow roast over a very hot flame."

"I would not find them appetizing."

"Gotta work on the timing of your humor, T."

"That was not an attempt at humor. For I would gladly roast them alongside you."

Jack stopped for a moment. "T, are you okay?"

"Why do you ask, O'Neill?"

"No reason. Just more venom in your voice than I expected."

Teal'c stopped grinding his teeth long enough to answer, "I feel very angry. I have not felt this kind of anger since. . ." he stopped.

"Since what?" Jack paused, not looking at Teal'c but at the landscape before them. "Since Daniel died? Or whatever that was."

Teal'c was surprised to hear the comment, and slightly mystified that Jack had so accurately ventured into his thoughts. "It took time, but I was truly happy for him, because he had achieved the ultimate. However, for a time after his return . . . I felt anger. I had thought him worthy of ascension. It is the greatest of honors."

Jack's expression couldn't be seen, but his posture tensed in shock. "He was worthy, T, and don't you ever think otherwise, you got that? Those glowy assholes aren't good enough for him. Their loss."

Teal'c shook his head slowly. "It did not feel right. I felt anger after his return. I felt as though he had failed. Then I took notice of all the things about him that I missed."

"You mean like the endless prattle, the bottomless coffee cup, the mixed up files, the hyper active tendency. . ."

"Actually I believe he has mellowed somewhat."

"Nah, he's pulling your leg. Try drinking him under a table." Jack smiled, then sobered. "Teal'c, what's the point to this microtirade?"

The Jaffa rounded his shoulders, popping the joints. He continued. "It took time, but I was glad of his return. Especially after he helped Ry'ac. We started Kel'Noreem together. It was pleasant. We were able to discuss our troubles and thoughts. I enjoyed his company in a way that I never had before."

"And the problem is?"

"If he has not survived, should I not have been grateful for his return sooner?"

Jack's heart stopped, just for a moment. He reached out for his friend's arm. "What, is this blame I hear? Teal'c, you have a panache for carrying guilt, you know that? Especially where Daniel is concerned."

"Then you do not think I was unjust in my initial reaction." His eyes were lowered.

"Teal'c, you feel what you feel. Right or wrong. Now me, I'm going to be royally pissed if . . . you know . . . and I didn't get to be there, or anything, I mean if he had to alone . . ." his voice trailed off, and he looked at Teal'c from underneath the brim of his cap. He'd never told anyone how Daniel's last day affected him. How he muddled through, not really able to say what was needed, although Daniel seemed to understand. Then he came back. And now he was gone again? Not only was it not fair, it just really sucked. Sucked shit. But then again, this was Daniel they were talking about, "You know Teal'c, he's always had a way of cheating death. I mean how many times was he supposed to die? Even with the glow-club, I mean he always comes back. He's worse than a cat."

"Then you believe there is hope."

Jack was rather surprised that Teal'c didn't. "Where he's concerned, there's always the possibility of the absurdly impossible. He's alive. Don't you think different for a second."

Teal'c nodded, his resolution to find Daniel now a doubly firm commitment in his mind. And it was this commitment that led him on in a blind vision, where he pointed victoriously toward a ruin.

It was lower than the surrounding area, being a dig. The storm had blown the sands about, but the dig had been protected in the lee of a makeshift dune; buried, but not completely covered. They wasted no time sliding down to the large post that marked the entrance. Weapons were thrown aside as well as packs, and they dented the sand where they landed. Teal'c was faster than Jack, and launched himself at the opening, pulling aside the sand powerfully. His face betrayed the tension Jack felt himself as he joined his friend and started shoveling. Neither spoke except to curse as the opening tried to fall in on itself. Teal'c braced the beams, and they worked their way inside.

Once in, they could just stand in a low crouch. A sweep of their flashlights showed nothing but timbers and sands mingled with odd clay. A body could be seen, half buried. Jack flipped it over and grunted. "Fish. Guess no one told these guys they can't live in sand." His tone was sympathetic despite his words, and he cleared the rest of the debris from the body. Another could be seen a few feet away, and another nearly completely covered by what appeared to be stone.

"They are all dead." Teal'c toed an alien that lay at his feet, his large eyes glazed and staring upwards, like a meal on a plate.

"Well, this has ruined my appetite for seafood." Jack examined the walls. "Surely this isn't the only room."

Teal'c nodded and ventured a yell. "Daniel Jackson! Can you hear me?" He listened intently, and turned to Jack, who was listening just as intently, if not more so.

"Daniel?" He heard the apprehension in his own voice and grimaced. Gesturing with his light, they moved to the far wall and started patting the surface, running their hands along the beams, wincing as they groaned. Teal'c was looking more nervous.

"This isn't safe."

"I hear ya."

"We must find him quickly."

"I know, Teal'c, I know."

Teal'c saw the look on Jack's face and sighed inwardly. Of course he was stating the obvious. He didn't mean to, but for some reason he felt the need for words. The thought that his friend was nearby yet out of reach made him feel as helpless as the day Daniel died, and he hated feeling helpless. It angered him. He was tired of being angry. He growled low in his chest and struck out at the boards, watching in awe as it gave way to reveal another room, a long room, almost a hall. He carefully worked his way to the new opening and stuck his head through. It was a room, and further on he could see another opening leading to yet another room. He forced the hole wider while calling out to O'Neill and wondered if for once, his temper didn't get the better of him, but guided him instead.

They dropped through the opening and hesitated, then headed for the next room. This area closed in around them, becoming suffocating and forcing them to crawl on their stomachs. And in the corner was a hole, and in this hole was yet another room, and as Teal'c shown his light through . . .

"O'Neill! Over here!"

Jack scurried over to Teal'c, who had thrown down his light, angled it toward the hole, and started pulling at the lip of the hole. Jack climbed over him, ceasing his activities, and peered through. After a broad sweep his light fell on Daniel, his body buried to his chest with sands and debris. Two large beams pinned him, on across his lower legs and one across his chest and abdomen. "Daniel!" Jack's voice cracked in the dry air. "Daniel, you hear me?" He shined the light directly on his friend's face. "Daniel! Teal'c, dig!"

"I am trying." O'Neill was in the way. He realized this and inched aside, pressed against the wall in the tiny area, and dug his hands into the soft clay which fell around them.