O'Neill and Carter led Steven out of the brig, with Teal'c and Daniel following behind, and down a corridor until they reached a lift. Carter swiped a card through a card reader affixed to the wall, and the doors slid open to allow them entry. The lift felt a little cramped after the entire group had filed inside.

Carter pressed a couple of buttons after a quick exchange to sort out who was going to escort Steven to the infirmary. O'Neill and Teal'c decided to accompany him while Daniel and Carter would split off from the group to return to working on their projects.

Leaning to the side, Steven tried to discreetly peek at the buttons they had pressed. Apparently, there were 28 floors in this place, and the buttons for floors 18, 19, and 21 were lit.

To his surprise, the lift started descending instead of ascending as he had expected. He wondered if that meant they were actually underground. After all, that seemed rather fitting for a secret military base. Unfortunately, that would probably make it a lot more difficult to escape. Steven thought it would probably be a challenge even for someone like Marc.

The lift stopped twice to let Daniel and Carter off. After descending a few more levels, O'Neill finally ushered Steven through the doors and into the infirmary.

Several empty, wheeled hospital gurneys were set up in the main room. A set of sterile bed linens were tucked crisply around each mattress. Various machines and monitors were scattered around the room in strategic locations, and a tall medicine cabinet stood against the far wall.

A petite woman with auburn hair, twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck, greeted them as they entered. Based on the white lab coat she wore, Steven figured she must be the doctor.

"Stay here," O'Neill ordered before pulling the doctor aside to speak with her.

Steven obediently hung back near the entrance, where Teal'c had also stopped to stand guard. From this position, he caught a few bits and pieces of their conversation as O'Neill explained Steven's situation to her.

When he was finished speaking to the doctor, O'Neill returned and addressed Teal'c. "Keep an eye on him while I'm gone, would you?"

When Teal'c inclined his head in agreement, Zat gun in hand, O'Neill clapped him on the shoulder in a friendly gesture before walking out.

The doctor approached Steven and introduced herself as Dr. Janet Fraiser, Chief Medical Officer. Her voice was gentle and pleasant but held a hint of underlying firmness that suggested she wouldn't tolerate any shenanigans.

"Why don't you take a seat?" she suggested with a wave toward the nearest bed.

Steven sat carefully on the edge of the mattress and folded his hands together in his lap. Anxiously, he fidgeted with his thumbs as Dr. Fraiser rolled a chair up to the side of the bed and sat directly across from him.

She grabbed the pointer finger on his right hand and clipped a little plastic device to it. His gaze followed the attached cord to one of the portable monitors nearby and noticed numbers flash up on the screen.

After jotting a few notes down on her clipboard, she removed the device and then slid a blood pressure cuff onto his other arm. The cuff began to tighten uncomfortably around the meat of his arm as she repeatedly squeezed the attached bulb to inflate it with air. Just as the pressure started to hurt a little, she relaxed her grip and the cuff started to loosen, the bulb hissing audibly as air rushed back out.

"Your pulse and blood pressure are a little high," she noted, "but that's understandable given the situation."

She asked him a few questions about any unusual symptoms he had experienced lately and for more details related to Marc and Khonshu's presence, taking notes and ticking off boxes as he answered.

"Now I just need to take some blood samples," she explained as she took his left arm and prodded lightly at the thin green veins snaking across the crease of his elbow.

Once she seemed to locate a promising vein, she grabbed a flat blue strap and stretched it like a giant rubber band until she could wrap it around his upper arm. It felt uncomfortably tight as she tied it off in a knot, the stretchy material making an audible snap as she released the ends. Then she took another moment to re-examine his veins before wiping the surrounding patch of skin with a little alcohol pad.

"You may feel a slight pinch," she warned before sliding the tip of the needle into his arm.

Steven watched the vial fill with dark blood with a strange sense of detachment at first. Once the vial was reasonably full, she swiftly switched out the vial for an empty one, hands moving with practiced grace.

As the new vial began to fill, a sudden bout of dizziness washed over Steven. He swallowed back the accompanying wave of nausea and forced himself to tear his gaze away from the vial.

"That seems like a lot of blood," he murmured weakly.

Dr. Fraiser shot a quick glance at his face. "Sorry about that," she apologized before focusing on her hands as she stoppered the full vial and exchanged it for another empty one. "I want to run a full panel just in case."

"Can I ask you something, doctor?" he ventured after a moment.

"Of course."

"What happens if it turns out I do have a Goa'uld inside me?" Steven asked. "Is there any way to remove it?"

Dr. Fraiser hesitated for a second before admitting, "We don't currently have a safe method to completely remove a symbiote from a host here in this facility. You see, most Goa'uld release a lethal toxin within the host upon the removal or death of the symbiote."

"Lethal?" Steven nearly squeaked, his eyes growing wide with alarm.

"However, we have an alliance with a group who does have the technology and experience to remove a symbiote without harming the host. If your test comes back positive, then we will need to contact them and have them perform the procedure."

Although it was a relief to know a viable treatment did exist, Steven couldn't quite push back his feelings of apprehension.

"Try not to worry too much," Dr. Fraiser said, giving him a quick pat on the arm before rising to her feet. "I'm just going to go drop these off in the lab, and then we'll get you prepped for the MRI."

When Steven nodded and made a noise of acknowledgement, she passed him a bundled-up hospital gown. She instructed him to change into it and remove any metal jewelry while she was gone.

Once Dr. Fraiser left the room, Steven picked at the hem of his shirt, feeling self-conscious, before shooting a quick glance at Teal'c. His intimidating guard stood a short distance away, watching him with a serene expression despite the weapon clutched casually in his hand.

"Sorry, but," Steven started, hesitant, "could you maybe turn around, please?"

Teal'c gave him a flat stare. "No."

When Teal'c apparently had nothing else to add, Steven figured there was probably no point in trying to argue with the man. "Fine," he sighed. "Guess I'll just turn around then."

Turning his back to Teal'c and hoping that he'd feel less awkward if he just pretended he was alone, Steven pulled his shirt – well, Marc's shirt actually – over his head and quickly wrapped himself in the provided hospital gown before shimmying out of his trousers.

He set his clothes aside on the hospital gurney and then lightly touched his chest, fingers lingering against the Star of David that hung from the thin, linked chain draped around his neck. Absently, he fiddled with it for a moment before reaching back to undo the tiny clasp.

It felt strange to remove the necklace in front of strangers, especially when he was so used to feeling its familiar presence against his skin, tucked safely beneath his shirt. With gentle fingers, he coiled the chain into a neat bundle and slipped it into one of the pockets of his folded trousers.

After a few minutes, Dr. Fraiser returned to fetch Steven and lead him into another room. When Teal'c attempted to follow, she stopped him and gently scolded him for nearly bringing a metal weapon into the MRI room. She instructed him to either stay outside or set the Zat gun aside if he wanted to enter and wait in the adjacent observation room.

Teal'c hesitated and then said, "I will remain here. Do not hesitate to shout if you are in danger. I will run to your aid."

Dr. Fraiser smiled and thanked Teal'c before ushering Steven into the MRI room. A machine, equipped with a hollow tube wide enough for a person to crawl through, immediately caught his attention.

Gesturing to the narrow platform sticking out from the base of the tube, Dr. Fraiser instructed him to lie down on his back. Then she passed him a pair of foam earplugs meant for hearing protection. Steven popped them in, one ear at a time.

Before stepping away to start the imaging sequence, she informed him that the scan would take a while and that he would need to hold as still as possible during the process in order to produce a clear image. As he stared up at the ceiling, the platform he was lying on began moving, slowly feeding him into the barrel of the machine headfirst.

At least being stuck in the MRI and forcing himself to hold still for half an hour wasn't quite as bad as he had feared it would be. He had expected it to feel claustrophobic, but it felt absolutely roomy compared to the eerie sensation of being trapped in his own body whenever Marc was in control.

The MRI mostly turned out to just be extremely boring and a bit loud, even with earplugs. After only a few minutes had passed, Steven found himself wishing Marc was awake and could talk to him to make the time pass more quickly. As the minutes began to stretch into an unknown measure of time, Steven started to think he would even welcome Khonshu's loathsome company, Goa'uld or not. Although on second thought, Khonshu's presence tended to make electronics go haywire, so maybe it was for the best he was being ignored.

Once the machine finally stopped and started pushing him back out, Steven felt a wave of relief wash over him that he was allowed to move again. As soon as he could, he sat up and removed the earplugs. Dr. Fraiser told him that he could return to the other room with Teal'c and change back into his own set of clothes.

After changing, Steven sat waiting for Dr. Fraiser to return with his test results. His leg jostled restlessly as he wondered how long it would take. While he waited, Steven briefly attempted to make small talk with Teal'c to distract himself but only managed to draw out a few terse responses from the man before he gave up and resigned himself to stewing in his own anxious thoughts.

Eventually, O'Neill returned through the infirmary doors. "So, any news on whether or not this guy's a snakehead?"

"No. Dr. Fraiser has yet to return," Teal'c answered.

As if summoned by her name, Dr. Fraiser suddenly walked in. "Actually, you have perfect timing, Colonel. I just finished my initial analysis of his results."

"Oh, thank goodness," Steven murmured to himself.

"Nice," O'Neill said. "So what's the verdict, doc?"

"Nothing suspicious showed up on the MRI, and his blood samples tested negative for both the symbiote protein marker and traces of Naquadah," Dr. Fraiser explained. "He definitely is not and never has been a Goa'uld."

Steven quietly sighed at the news, feeling a bit conflicted. It was a huge relief to confirm that he was not infected with a creepy, mind-controlling alien parasite, but he still didn't know Khonshu's true nature. If he had turned out to be a Goa'uld, they would've had a chance to be free of him. Now it seemed that he and Marc were stuck with Khonshu's presence, at least for the time being.

"Well, if he's not a Goa'uld, then what is he?" O'Neill demanded.

"Based on his tests, I'd say he's a hundred percent human."

"Normal humans don't have glowing eyes and super strength and clothes that can melt into their skin!" O'Neill exclaimed, punctuating his words by pointing a finger accusingly in Steven's direction.

Dr. Fraiser shook her head. "I don't know what else to tell you."

"Is it possible that he was temporarily enhanced by nanites or another artifact from the warehouse?" Teal'c suggested. "We have encountered such technology before."

"Like I said, his blood tests came back clean." Dr. Frasier furrowed her brow in thought. "Although I suppose his body could have reabsorbed the nanites if that was the case."

"Okay, well, what's with the personality change, huh?" O'Neill asked. "It's like he was three totally different people before."

Steven felt himself shrink back a bit as the others turned their attention back to him.

Dr. Fraiser's gaze darted between Steven and O'Neill. "I do have a theory," she offered hesitantly after a moment.

O'Neill lifted his eyebrows. "Care to share with the rest of the class?"

Steven met Dr. Fraiser's questioning eyes, curious and a tad apprehensive. "Please. I want to know anything you might be able to tell me. I think Marc might know what's going on with us, but he won't ever tell me anything. I'm tired of always being left in the dark about these things."

"Keep in mind, I can't make a formal diagnosis myself, given the nature of my theory." She paused until Steven gave a little nod for her to continue. "But based on what you and Colonel O'Neill have told me so far, I think it's possible you may have a form of mental illness known as dissociative identity disorder or DID for short. If this turns out to be the case, then it's likely you've had it for a long time without knowing it."

Steven swallowed nervously and then asked, "How long?"

"Well, based on our current understanding of DID, you almost certainly developed it during childhood."

"What? That long?" Steven shook his head in disbelief. "No, that can't be right. Surely, I would've noticed something sooner."

Dr. Fraiser's gaze was sympathetic. "There have been more than a few people who went undiagnosed or misdiagnosed until well into adulthood."

Steven's frown deepened. "If Marc knew about this for a while, why wouldn't he have just told me the truth when I first found out about him?"

"Maybe he was just trying to protect you," she suggested softly.

"Protect me from what?" Steven's voice trembled as he gave a mirthless laugh. "Marc's the one that's been putting me in danger this whole time."

"I'm afraid this is really outside my area of expertise," she sighed, briefly glancing away as she dodged the question. "Dr. MacKenzie is an excellent psychologist and is due back on base in a few days to perform some routine evaluations for our personnel. I'm sure he would make some room for you in his schedule if you'd like to talk to him, assuming you're still here when he arrives." She shot a glance at O'Neill for confirmation.

"As relieved as I'm sure we all are that he's not a Goa'uld, he's not going anywhere anytime soon."

"Alright. Why don't you give it some thought, Steven?"

He nodded absently in response, already caught up in his own thoughts.

Dr. Fraiser turned back to O'Neill and Teal'c. "I'll go ahead and update General Hammond."

"Sounds good. I'll call someone to relieve Teal'c here of guard duty and escort our guest back to his cell."

Shortly after Dr. Fraiser disappeared through the exit and O'Neill made a quick call, two unfamiliar guards arrived outside the infirmary's entrance, each of them equipped with their own Zat guns.

As the entire group headed back down the corridor toward the lift, O'Neill turned his head to look at Teal'c as they walked side-by-side and said, "Hey, wanna head over to the mess hall? I heard they have those weird yogurty fruit things you like again."

Teal'c nodded, a subtly pleased air to his expression as he entered the lift with O'Neill. "I believe it is called a parfait. Daniel Jackson has informed me that it means perfect. I am inclined to agree."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I'm more of a jello man myself."

"Indeed."

The last thing Steven heard before the lift doors slid shut was O'Neill asking, "Why do I suddenly get the feeling you're judging me?"

When the lift returned after dropping off Teal'c and O'Neill, Steven allowed his new guards to herd him into it without putting up a fuss.

After passing several floors, the lift stopped to let another person on. As the new arrival reached to press the button for level 18, Steven felt his blood run cold as he glimpsed the dark stain of a tattoo peeking out of his sleeve.

'Maybe it's just a coincidence,' Steven thought to himself as he struggled to bury his rising panic. After all, he hadn't really caught a clear glimpse of it, so it might not even be the same scale tattoo. He was probably just being paranoid. He hoped…

But what if he was right to be paranoid?

Back in London, Harrow had already established at least several followers in positions of authority. The two seemingly legitimate police detectives, who had forced themselves into his flat and then taken him straight to Harrow under the guise of arresting him, came to mind.

Steven wasn't sure how long Harrow had been traveling from country to country, gathering who knows how many useful followers for his cult. As much as Steven wanted to deny the possibility, he couldn't just ignore the foreboding, sinking sensation deep in his gut if there was even the slightest chance that one of Harrow's men might get their hands on Ammit's ushabti.

The lift came to a stop as it reached level 18. The suspicious man stepped out as the doors slid open and began heading down the length of the empty corridor. Steven stared at his back, struggling to make a decision.

When one of the guards reached forward, aiming to press the button that would force the doors shut, Steven impulsively smacked his hand away from it. Both guards tensed, arms snapping up to aim their weapons at him.

Just as the doors started to close, Steven darted out between them. A blue burst of energy shot out and just barely missed him, zapping the lift doors instead. They crackled with electricity but remained frozen shut even as the guards shouted and pounded their fists heavily against the metal doors.

Steven glanced around the corridor, but there was no sign of which way the soldier had gone. As he sprinted down the corridor, the surrounding lights began to flicker.

Faint voices emanated from one of the nearby rooms as he passed by.

"Where is Ammit's ushabti?" an unfamiliar voice demanded.

"I already told you. I have no idea what you're talking about."

Steven skidded to a stop and then rushed to backtrack. As he approached the door, the threads of his suit emerged to envelop him in white fabric from head to toe.

Pulling out his golden truncheons, which were evidently the proper name for the weapons according to Marc, Steven crept closer to the door. Left slightly ajar, Steven quietly nudged it further open and slipped inside.

The suspicious man from the lift stood with his back facing the door. The pistol gripped in his hand was trained on a spectacled man who Steven recognized to be Daniel. His eyes shifted behind his glasses to glance at Steven and then quickly darted back to the man threatening him, but it was too late.

"What're you looking at?" he grunted, turning toward the door.

Panicking, Steven launched one of his truncheons across the room. It flew past its intended target, who dodged out of the way. Steven tensed as the man swung his gun around to aim at him instead.

While the man was distracted, Daniel tackled him from the side just as his finger pulled the trigger, jostling his arm so the shot went wide and fortunately missed Steven completely. The stray bullet struck a significantly less fortunate Sumerian statue, perched high on a shelf, and blew it to pieces.

Snarling with fury, the man smashed the pistol across Daniel's temple, dazing him and knocking him to the floor. Seeing an opening, Steven threw his second truncheon, which flew through the air and smacked the gun out of his hand, sending it spinning across the room.

Cautiously, Steven walked closer as the man sucked in a pained breath between gritted teeth, clenching and unclenching his hand reflexively. When there was only a few feet of distance left between the two, the man's head shot up to glare at Steven.

Plunging a hand into his jacket pocket, the man withdrew a switchblade. With a swift motion, he popped the blade out of the handle and then lunged at Steven.

"Shit!" Steven shouted as he jerked to the side, knocking his shoulder roughly into a bookshelf as he tried to dodge. Several unknown items that had been jostled by the impact crashed to the floor around him.

Catching the man's arm on his next swing, Steven attempted to force the knife away from himself. The amount of effort it took to push the blade away from his torso was a surprise. He definitely remembered being significantly stronger the previous times he had donned the suit.

Steven wasn't a trained fighter. With the suit's powers seemingly failing him, he wasn't sure he would be able to fend off the attacker on his own.

"Marc, I could really use your help right now!" he called out.

Unfortunately, Marc didn't emerge from whatever corner he was hidden in, deep within their mind. However, Steven did catch a glimpse of Khonshu's form out of the corner of his eye. He tilted his skull and stared passively as Steven struggled to pry the knife from his assailant's grasp.

Abruptly shifting his weight, the man swung Steven around and shoved him forward until he found himself tumbling backward across the desk, scattering the stacks of books and research journals that had been spread across its surface.

From his new vantage point, sprawled flat on the floor, Steven spotted one of his truncheons where it had rolled under the desk. He turned over onto his stomach and scrambled to grab it. Just as his fingertips brushed the cool, metal surface, he felt rough hands grip his hair and yank his head back to expose his throat.

Just barely managing to get a grasp on the truncheon, Steven whipped his arm around and heard a thunk and cry of pain as he smacked his attacker across the face with it. When he felt the grip on his hair loosen, he flipped around and swung the truncheon again to land another hit. This time, the man collapsed to the floor and stilled.

Steven took a moment to catch his breath and calm his racing heart before dragging himself forward to check that the man was still breathing. He sighed in relief when he saw his chest steadily rising and falling with each slow breath.

A subtle movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye. Steven turned his head to see Khonshu still watching him in silence.

"What was that for?" Steven demanded, mouth pressed into an irritated frown.

Khonshu tilted his skull but didn't bother to reply.

"Why did you suppress the suit's powers just now?" Steven continued. "Are you really that angry about the whole Goa'uld thing that you'd sabotage your own mission? I thought you wanted to keep Ammit's ushabti away from Harrow at all costs."

When Khonshu still didn't answer, Steven looked away with a sigh as his indignation bled into resignation.

"Honestly, I don't even know why I'm still surprised that you would do something so petty."

"This is not a punishment."

Steven scoffed.

"You always assume the worst of me, Steven Grant," Khonshu continued gravely.

"Yeah, I wonder why that is?" Steven huffed, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, if it's not supposed to be a punishment, then what's going on?"

"This should come as no surprise. We are deep underground, and the sun is at its peak in the sky."

"Huh?"

"My blessings are strongest at night beneath full moonlight." Although he wasn't blatantly calling Steven an idiot this time, his disdainful tone certainly implied it.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense," Steven said a bit sheepishly. "Moon god and all that."

Khonshu made a disgruntled noise and then vanished.

A moment later, the sound of a low, pained groan drew Steven's attention. Daniel was awake and sitting slumped over against the wall nearest his desk. A pained grimace distorted his features as he held a hand gingerly against the side of his head.

Reminded of the blow to his head, Steven rushed to Daniel's side and squatted down next to him. "Are you alright?"

Daniel blinked blearily up at him. "Who–?"

"Oh, right," Steven murmured and felt his mask peel itself away from his face.

"Steven?" Daniel let out a quick breath. "What happened–" His voice trailed off as he noticed the body sprawled out on the floor.

"Yeah, about that. Is there anything I can use to restrain him?" Steven asked.

"I think there's some packing tape in my desk," Daniel answered, waving a hand vaguely at the desk in front of him. "Check the lower left drawer."

Following Daniel's suggestion, Steven stooped down in front of the desk and pulled open the indicated drawer. After some digging, his fingers brushed against the roll of tape. "Found it!"

Steven returned to the man's unconscious body and dragged him across the floor to the corner of the room furthest from the door. Then he propped him up against the wall face first, pulled his arms behind his back, and began wrapping his wrists in tape. After he finished securing his wrists together, he experienced a flash of paranoia that prompted him to tape the man's ankles together as well.

Satisfied that the assailant would most likely fall flat on his face if he woke up and tried to run, Steven returned to Daniel's side and helped pull him to his feet.

"You have a head injury," Steven observed as he guided him to his desk.

"You don't say." Daniel collapsed into his office chair with a groan of relief. When Steven continued to linger by his desk, Daniel glanced up at him. "What?"

"I think you need to visit the infirmary. I would offer to take you there, but I'm not sure it's a good idea to leave this guy here unsupervised. Is there a way to call for help? Or should I look for someone outside?"

"Everyone's probably at lunch right now," Daniel replied, wincing as he lightly pressed a hand against his head. "Otherwise, someone probably would've already reported the gunshot. Try the emergency phone," he suggested with a vague wave to the side.

Following the direction of Daniel's gesture, Steven hurried over to the red phone affixed to the wall and picked it up to press it against his ear. Fortunately, someone picked up after the first ring.

"Um, Colonel O'Neill is needed in Dr. Jackson's office. Please hurry, it's urgent."

After the voice on the other end of the line confirmed that they would relay the message to Colonel O'Neill, Steven thanked them before hanging up.

Feeling a bit antsy about waiting for O'Neill to show up, Steven tried to occupy himself by picking up a few things that had been knocked onto the floor during the struggle.

"You don't have to do that, you know," Daniel sighed after a moment. "Not that I don't appreciate your help."

"I feel a bit bad for making such a mess of your things."

"Well, if you insist, I'm certainly not going to stop you."

Daniel watched in silence for a moment as Steven worked.

"How'd your test results turn out, by the way? Since you don't seem to be freaking out, I'm assuming they were negative?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, that's right. My scans were clear. Definitely not a Goa'uld."

"That sounds like good news," Daniel said. "But why do I get the feeling something's still troubling you?"

Steven made a noncommittal noise in response. Looking to change the subject, he started asking questions about a few of the archaeology books that stood out to him while he was placing them back on one of the bookshelves. Daniel answered them as best as he could for a while, but eventually they both lapsed into silence as Daniel's headache worsened.

"Daniel!"

At the sound of the alarmed shout, Steven's head snapped up to see Colonel O'Neill appear in the doorway with Teal'c and Carter in tow. O'Neill paused as he entered the room and looked around at the surrounding mess of scattered books, papers, and ceramic shards that Steven hadn't managed to clean up yet.

"What the hell happened in here?" O'Neill asked.

Then they noticed the unconscious soldier, bound with duct tape and propped up in the far corner of the room. Teal'c pulled out his Zat gun and held it half-cocked.

"Isn't that Sergeant Hawthorne?" Carter asked. "Why's he restrained?"

"Oh, he barged in here earlier, threatened me with a gun, and demanded I hand over Ammit's ushabti," Daniel explained. "Then Steven showed up and fought him off."

O'Neill glanced at Steven, who was standing unobtrusively in the corner next to a bookshelf and trying not to draw attention to himself. Then he did a double take. "What's with the Colonel Sanders suit? The mummy-chic look not doing it for you anymore?"

"Why does everyone keep bringing up Colonel Sanders?" Steven sighed as he finally let his suit unwind and melt back beneath his skin. "I'll have you know plenty of other people have worn white suits."

"O'Neill," Teal'c interrupted. "I am unfamiliar with this Colonel Sanders. I do not believe we have met."

"No, Teal'c," Carter replied, the hint of a grin playing at her lips as she tried to suppress her laughter. "He's not really–"

Carter trailed off as Teal'c tilted his head, looking vaguely perplexed.

"Uh, it's probably not important right now," she backtracked.

O'Neill patted Teal'c on the shoulder and said, "We have got to get you off base more." Then he turned his attention back to Steven and raised an eyebrow. "As for you, what're you even doing in here? Shouldn't you be in your cell?"

"That man got on the lift I was on earlier. I had a bad feeling about him, and I just sort of panicked and ran out after him," Steven admitted. "The guards accidentally zapped the lift doors when they tried to stop me, and I think they got trapped inside."

"I guess that explains why we couldn't take the main elevator earlier," Carter said.

"So what tipped you off that this guy was up to something?" O'Neill asked.

"I caught a glimpse of this tattoo on his wrist."

"Lots of people have those," O'Neill replied with a frown, seeming unimpressed.

"Well, this isn't any ordinary tattoo. There's this cult that worships Ammit. They've been stalking us for weeks," Steven explained.

"Great. Just what we need," O'Neill groaned. "Another cult."

"Anyway, all the members seem to have the same tattoo. A set of scales with crocodile heads on each end of the beam."

"And you think Sergeant Hawthorne might belong to this cult?" Carter asked.

"If you don't believe me, check his arm." Steven waved a hand toward the unconscious man.

"Teal'c?" O'Neill prompted.

Teal'c knelt down next to Sergeant Hawthorne and pushed one of his jacket sleeves up. The skin of his arm was unmarked.

"Try the other one," Steven insisted.

Switching to the other arm, Teal'c rolled up his sleeve and revealed the familiar tattoo, the dark ink stark against his skin. "The tattoo is as described."

O'Neill frowned. "So what, this guy wanted the statue because he's Ammit's biggest fan?"

"Actually, that would be Harrow."

"Who?"

"He's the cult leader."

"Ah."

"Earlier, you said the statue could be dangerous if it breaks," Carter said, turning to address Steven. "What exactly did you mean by that?"

Steven hesitated, Khonshu's warning against revealing too many details about Ammit's ushabti still fresh in his mind. But with no indication of when Marc would return, Steven suspected he might be a bit in over his head without Marc.

Deciding it couldn't hurt to give them just enough information to encourage them to take protecting the ushabti more seriously, Steven explained, "If Harrow gets his hands on Ammit's ushabti, countless lives will be lost."

O'Neill's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "It's a statue."

"Sir," Carter spoke up, drawing his attention. "Maybe I should run some tests on it, just in case. It wouldn't be the first time we've found alien technology hidden in a statue."

"Good point," O'Neill conceded. "Knock yourself out, I guess. You might have to fight Daniel for it though."

When Daniel remained suspiciously quiet, the others turned to see him leaning forward with his elbows propping him up on the desk as he clutched his head in his hands.

"Are you unwell, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asked.

Daniel sighed and lowered his hands from his head. "Oh, other than a slight concussion, I'm doing great."

"Concussion?" O'Neill echoed.

"Dr. Jackson tackled him when he pointed a gun at me," Steven explained. "He ended up getting smacked in the head with the gun."

"Teal'c, can you take him back to his cell?" O'Neill asked with a nod in Steven's direction. "I'm going to call for someone from the medical team to come get Daniel checked out and figure out what to do with our wannabe cultist over here."

As Teal'c started to nod his agreement, Daniel interrupted, "Is it really necessary to lock him up again?"

Whipping back to stare at Daniel, O'Neill responded with a short, disapproving, "Daniel."

"I know what you're thinking but hear me out. I just don't think he deserves to be treated like a dangerous criminal after he tried to protect me. I don't think he means us any harm. We know he's not a Goa'uld now, so can't we at least move him to a nicer room or something?"

"You sure this isn't just the concussion talking?"

"Jack–" Daniel started, but O'Neill held up a hand and interrupted him.

"Oh, for crying out loud! I don't care how nice he seems right now. The man's dangerous, Daniel! Or did you forget about the building full of bodies?"

"That wasn't me!" Steven insisted, shaking his head. "I would never do something like that."

"I believe you," Daniel replied kindly, though his expression was solemn.

"Though that may be true for you, Steven Grant," Teal'c began in a thoughtful, low voice, "the other beings sharing your body do not appear to be in accord. It was undoubtedly your body that assaulted those people and also attempted to attack O'Neill and myself in the warehouse."

"Look. You seem like a nice enough guy, but that doesn't change the fact that you're still a massive security risk, snakehead or not. Can you even stop your buddies from taking control?" O'Neill asked.

Steven opened his mouth to respond but hesitated. Although he had successfully wrestled control from Marc before, he had no idea what would happen if he tried to fight off Khonshu if he chose to possess him like he had with Marc. Ultimately, he frowned and looked away.

"Yeah," O'Neill said, voice grim, "that's what I thought."