A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to write a review. You know how reviews makes authors all giggly and bubbly happy! Well.. at least that was my reaction. And huge thanks to anyone who's following this story! Though I'm not writing this specifically to gain an audience (this story has been swirling in my head for a couple of years now) it's always nice to see one's work seen. Perhaps not rabidly appreciated, but every little bit makes me happy. Did I mention I'm easily pleased?

In reply to devianttart, I considered having the team think it was all wishful thinking on Jack's part.. but they've always -trusted- him. Believe him? Maybe. But their trust was unquestionable.

Actually, that's a big reason why I'm such into team fics. Though, to be honest, I'm writing more for Daniel and Jack (friendship) than team here. Maybe that could be a goal for the next fic!
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Nathan spent the weeks following his escape in putting as much distance as he could between himself and Amery. He never stay more than a few days anywhere, but was always on the move, rationalizing that he'd be harder to track this way. He found odd jobs along the way to help pay for this journey. People seem to trust him despite his increasing disheveled appearance; perhaps the way he presented himself, always polite and self depreciating, reassured them. Nathan might not even realize why they never seem to ask many questions; the pained expression on his face whenever they asked how he came to be there always stop them from venturing deeper into his history.

Tonight, he had the fortune to meet a sympathetic couple who offered him a room and board. They were elderly, but he suspect they wanted him more for the company than his ability to take care of a few things around their home. During the course of dinner, it was hinted quite heavily that he'd be welcome to stay for as long as he needed. Nathan pretended not to understand as he had already made up his mind to move on in the morning. A part of him knew he'd be a danger to these people, but more than that, he sensed that he has some place he needed to be. He doesn't know where or how to get there, but he felt the urgency of the call and could only rely on his instinct to take him in the right direction.

As he sat at the desk in the spare room that night, pondering this feeling and trying futilely to recall anything of his past, he found himself staring absently at the phone sitting in the corner. There was someone he needed to contact. Someone, he knew, who would know exactly what to do and would take care of everything. To bring him safely home again. And it wouldn't be the first time.

His heart clenched tightly in trepidation as he picked up the phone. Then he frowned at it, at a lost in what to do next. Why can't he remember? It has something to do with the project he was working on, which he now knew he was never a willing participant of. They had to have done something to him. But it was impossible for them to take away his memories so selectively, wasn't it? How could he still perform in the capacity of a linguist/archaeologist if they took away the experiences that taught him those skills? How was it possible for them to plant memories of a childhood he knew to be false? And the fact that he never questioned his acquaintance with Amery?

Frustrated with all these unanswered questions, he slammed down the receiver and pushed the useless phone away from him. He took a moment to calm himself, reaching for the familiar feeling of that someone who could make this right, and ignored the obvious question of how he knew this. Without thinking, he took the receiver off the hook and rapidly punched in the number that came from out of nowhere.

It connected. The number lead somewhere. Swallowing down the fear that this was all just a coincidence, he waited for someone to pick up.

Despite the fact that he was expecting it, he was still startled to hear a voice on the line. "O'Neill."

Nothing. The voice meant nothing to him. He fought down his disappointment as he tried to come up with an excuse when the voice sounded again, "hello?"

He sensed a deep weariness from the man and regretted calling immediately. He mumbled the first excuse he could think of and hung up. He sighed, then brightened up somewhat. Even if the voice meant nothing, the number must have. Or perhaps it was all wishful thinking. Either way, it was as good a direction to head to as any. He felt more at ease with this temporary goal in mind than he had had for as long as he could truly remember.

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"Colonel?" General Hammond asked, baffled at being called this late in the evening "Is everything all right?"

"Couldn't be better, General. We found Daniel."

"You what?" he asked, wary but alert.

A tiny voice spoke up from the background, "um, sir, we don't know this for a fact."

"Colonel, I think we'd better meet up at the Base to discuss this."

"Already on our way, sir," Jack said.

Hammond sighed. This was Jack O'Neill through and through. Perhaps that meant he hadn't completely lost his mind.

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"Well, Colonel?" Hammond asked once he made his entrance into the briefing room, noting SG-1 already seated around the table.

"O'Neill claimed that Daniel Jackson called him approximately 45 minutes ago." Teal'c stated, cutting O'Neill's overtly enthusiastic reply off knowing it'd do nothing to win him this case.

O'Neill eyed the man next to him, then nodded. "That's right."

"And what did Dr. Jackson say?"

"Ah, that's not important. The important thing is that he might be in trouble and we have to go find him."

"Sir..s, I've managed to track down the number. It originates in a small city near Houston," Carter said.

"That's random. What's Daniel doing down there?" Jack asked speculatively.

"If it was indeed Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said, seemingly indifferent to his CO's optimism. O'Neill brush aside the feeling of betrayal and said instead, "spoil sport."

"Jack, are you sure it was him?" Hammond asked gently, knowing the man before him had never really given up hope. Who knew how this might affect his judgment?

All levity disappeared as he turned a hard gaze to Hammond. "I'd stake my life on it, sir."

Hammond looked to Carter and Teal'c in turn. While they showed reserves in believing that their friend was alive, their trust in O'Neill was implicit. They return his unvoiced question with a look of determination and acceptance of the Colonel's claim.

Finally, he nodded. Over the years, he has learned to trust this team, despite all contrary evidence to some of their allegations. "Very well, Colonel. Tell me what your team needs."

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Nathan strangely had the same thought as Jack once he found the number was from Colorado Springs. "That's random," he muttered.

He thanked the couple's generosity as he was leaving. He wanted to refuse the money they thrust upon him, feeling they had done much already, but he needed this money to finance his trip and he doubt his fortune would keep up all the way to Colorado.

He found his way to the bus station and purchased a one-way ticket to his chosen destination. Barring any unforeseen difficulties, he should arrive within the next day.