At Last, an Ancient in Atlantis

by palma

The Ori threat has become urgent, and SG1 searches for a way to counter them. This however will take them on a whole new adventure...to Atlantis. How did they get there and why? Crossover between SGA and SG1.

8. Chapter 8

Good reading
translate by jamie

---

Chapter 8: Memories (Part 2)

---

Flashback (Part 2)

Suddenly it all went dark. Only the ball was still floating around in mid-air, shining down on Angela's unconscious body. Daniel was having trouble getting out of his semi-stupor but he made his way over to the unmoving body of his comrade. She was burning. Summoning that ball of light had literally taken the energy from her, leaving her very vulnerable. He took her in his arms and leaned her gently against the wall. He then decided to check out his surroundings guided by the light. He took care going about it, walking on tiptoes. He felt his way around the walls as best he could until all of a sudden, and quite without warning, the walls came to an abrupt end. Daniel lost his grip and ended up face-down flat on the floor He found himself in what appeared to be another room. Again on tiptoes, he searched for something to hold onto, a wall if possible and that was when his knee came into contact with something solid. He bent down to see what it was blocking his path and it turned out to be nothing more than a bed. He quickly got up and craned his neck. "That platform couldn't have been this far down," it was indeed a bed, he was in a bedroom. He swore as he banged his head on the door frame as he exited the room. He made sure to count the number of steps he was taking so he would be able to find his way back later. He managed to find Angela without too much difficulty. The young woman's body seemed to be getting hotter, clearly her fever was rising. He came closer to the light so he could see what time it was: 23:00. She had not been treated today, she must be running low on meds. He talked to her, trying to reassure her and attempted to lift her motionless body. With difficulty, he moved her over to the bed, concentrating all the time on counting the steps he was taking. Unfortunately, the further they went, the less light there was. As if listening to his thoughts, the ball followed them, or more precisely it followed Angela. "It must be connected to her in some way, is she still feeding it power?" he thought. However, the light, just as she had predicted, was actually becoming dimmer and smaller. He finally got to where he was going and laid her out on the lower bunk. The light was still filling the room which allowed Daniel to see that there were other beds. He went over to lie down on the one facing Angela's upon which he instantly fell asleep. No sooner had a blissful repose overcome him than he was shocked by something . He searched the landscape of his dream for the source of the disturbance, his eyes scanning all around him. Then, he began to shiver. He opened one eye and looked around the room. He was still there, so it had obviously not been a dream. He looked at his watch which showed it was 03:00. The light in the meantime had almost totally disappeared. He yawned and got up and went to find Angela, whom he had forgotten about until then.

"Good morning," Angela said as she sat looking at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you. Were you looking for me?"

This surprised Daniel; he hadn't seen her now that the light had gone dark.

"Uh..." not knowing what else to say, "good morning."

"I just wanted to find the stone so I could take a look at it and try to reactivate it," Angela went on, not listening to Daniel's answer.

"Sleep well?"

"Yes, eventually. When I woke up,

"Yeah, for a minute there I thought ...never mind," Daniel hesitated, "I saw the ball of light and I suddenly remembered the stone, your strange powers and the explosion, everything in fact," looking to the room. "Are you still cold?" he asked, changing the subject as he felt slightly uncomfortable.

"A little less, I just need my meds. I think I'm getting used to doing without them, well I hope so at least. You mentioned an explosion, what did you mean by that?"

"You looked restless in your sleep and..."

"I...it was just a nightmare," she said promptly.

"And then the room lit up, it was almost like someone flipped the switch."

"I don't understand. You're saying it was me who...?"

"Yes, but..."

"That's not possible, I'm too weak. How could I have managed to do that, how could I have summoned that kind of energy?"

"Panic, fear, anger, I don't know."

"Fear?"

"You said you were having a nightmare, didn't you?" Daniel laid out on his bed, took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, reflecting on what had transpired.

"Or maybe you were just the conductor. Maybe you just connected some kind of device and the room lit up off its own power, something like a digital or retinal scanner," Daniel tried to explain, "nothing to worry about."

"How is that possible?" Angela asked, seeming decidedly unnerved.

"When the room lit up, I saw where we were Angela. We were inside the ship."

" Inside it?" she asked, laying on her own bed, "we transported inside it?"

"Yes, I think so, but I'm sure Sam will find some way to get us out of here."

"So, we're inside the ship that you haven't been able to open, Daniel?"

"Exactly..., but we obviously managed to find a way inside," she was placing all hopes of escaping from there on his shoulders.

"So how did we get inside, then?"

"The stone."

"I see," she said, looking pale now.

"It allows whoever uses it to transport to somewhere inside the ship."

"Does it work the other way round?"

"I don't know."

"Well I know one thing for certain; I definitely didn't want to touch that damned chunk of rock (caillou)," she said angrily as she went to sit back down. Je n'y etais pas loin hier.

"I don't understand," Daniel remarked, surprised at Angela's sudden and severe change in mood.

"When I said I didn't like this place, I meant it because I'm inside an aeroplane," Angela cajoled.

"Ah, I remember now. Well, in any case, I'm happy to see your sense of humour's returned."

"Don't speak too soon, I may have another attack. I've never gone this long without my meds before."

"Well, that would be unusual," Daniel joked, trying to lighten the mood somewhat. "Tell me something, is there a connection between you and this light?" he asked, pointing his head at the ball of light lazily floating above them.

Angela seemed to search carefully for her words before she spoke, possibly not understanding the true sense of the question she was being asked.

"No, I'm not feeding it energy anymore, if that's what you want to know."

"Then why did it follow you when I moved you?"

She looked pensive again for a moment.

"It was meant to light the way for travellers who lost their way," she said. On seeing the look of surprise on Daniel's face she said, "I'm joking! I don't know, maybe subconsciously it can sense that I need some light and I attracted it to me."

"I think I like the sound of the second answer more than the first," Daniel said lightly.

"In any case, it won't last much longer, it's just a matter of seconds."

Ten seconds later, as if on cue, they were plunged into pitch blackness.

"Daniel, you there?" Angela said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, where else would I be?"

"True. I'll try create another ball."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea. Well okay, maybe a small one. But that would...oh never mind, go ahead."

Angela got up and concentrated. There was a rush of what felt like wind and he saw an energy flux gather in the palm of her hand, forming sparks that drew together into a shapeless blob that steadily rose up.

"Well, it's not as pretty as the last one..." Angela said as she turned her head, "whoa, I think... I should probably sit down."

"Are you having another attack? I thought this might happen but I didn't like to ask the question," Daniel said as he stood up.

"It's probably best if you don't know. What I mean is, the less you know the better."

"I think I know enough," Daniel went over to sit beside her.

"Daniel?"

"Yes?"

"Are we going to be here a long time?"

"I don't know. Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead, but I should warn you that if it's too personal, not only will I not tell you, but I'll also be forced to kill you," Angela said jokingly.

"I'll take that risk. Okay, I wanted to know if these attacks of yours are going to keep getting stronger?"

"Yes, but I'm used to it now," she said as she started to shiver slightly.

"Okay, that wasn't the question I really wanted an answer to. I just wanted to know if you'd respond to it."

"Okay then, ask me what you really wanted to know."

"How long have you had these attacks and these, how can I put it, these abilities? I mean these powers?"

"Funny you should call them "powers," I'd say they were more like an anomaly," she said and then took her time before answering him as if she was searching her memory or looking for the right words to say, "I think it was this blinding light I saw when I was fighting over Antarctica. I think it may have modified my body in some way."

"Is that what you think?"

"Well, yes. Before that happened, I was perfectly normal, well compared to the way I am now anyway," she then lost herself in her thoughts and gave in to the shivering (fremit)

He took her tightly in his arms so she could not break free. His heart was beating to the same rhythm as that of the young woman in his arms. Angela twisted her neck so that she could see Daniel's face more clearly. Like this he could clearly see the pain behind her eyes. She was still holding the stone tightly.

"You can give that to me if you want to," Daniel said, looking at the stone.

"No, I'd prefer to hold onto it just in case." Tears streamed down her cheeks and Daniel could tell that she was suffering immensely. There was nothing he could do except look at her and hold onto her. What happened next went so quickly. He brought his face closer to Angela's, their lips coming perilously close. He kissed her and his body was on fire for her. He kissed her lips more vigorously as he felt her surrender to her own desire. She felt her remaining energy leave her body as the stone lit up and they were once again plunged into darkness. Not for one moment however did Daniel's lips leave hers. He could feel the energy leaving his own body, fleeing in fact, and it flooded into Angela's. Eventually, he began to recognise the familiar shapes he knew so well, those of his own room. He found himself once more in his quarters, laying next to him Angela's body. They had just had their first kiss. He felt exhausted.

End of flashback

"We carried on seeing each other for a couple months. It was all going really well," Daniel went on.

"So what happened?"

"Towards the end, we started seeing less of one another. I was caught up in my work and my research and she was always on duty or in the infirmary."

"So the relationship didn't survive that?" Bryan finished for him.

"No, we just couldn't have our work and our relationship."

"So, who made the first move?"

"What do you mean?"

"The break-up," Bryan explained.

"I did."

"Ok...and how did she take that?"

"I really don't know. It all happened so fast."

"And what caused it? What I mean is, what was it that finally broke the two of you up apart from your duties, if you don't mind me asking?"

"One day, she just went crazy. She put five men in the emergency room. It was awful, she was fuming. She was like a tornado, she did that much damage. Right there and then I was afraid of what she might do."

"You're right, that is frightening, but why did she...?"

"I don't know why, maybe just an impulse."

"I don't think she's capable of killing someone for no reason," Bryan said.

"Neither did I, and yet...," Daniel added.

"Something or other must have happened to make her go off like that," Bryan said as he tried to understand it all.

"No, there was nothing. Not according to the doctors anyway."

"What did she do after the att..., the accident?" Bryan asked.

"She asked for a leave of absence so she could see one of her own doctors and they gave her a new treatment. She was doing better, she wasn't as tired and then our relationship just didn't recover. She didn't renew her contract and she left with no warning, just leaving us in the middle of the project we were working on."

The silence between the two men permeated the room. They both became consumed in their own concerns, thoughts and questions.

While this was going on, silence overcame the car headed for their digs. Sam had stopped paying attention to the conversation going on between Teal'c and the driver of the car, Jack. She stared out the window at the punished landscape she saw. It was a depressing visage, a scene plunged into darkness caused by the grey clouds and the rain that was hammering all around them. She thought about their mission and then was submerged in her memories as the voices of her comrades drifted slowly further:

Flashback

Sam left her lab to go and meet their 15 new recruits. She was feeling more exhausted by the day. This meeting would give her a much-needed break. She headed out of the base itself to the rendez-vous point that had been set up. She had read each of their personnel files . All of them knew about the SGC, apart from three: two had been sent there for disobeying the direct order of a superior officer in Afghanistan and because of that caused a serious accident. A truck was heading towards her, kicking up the dust in its wake. It stopped a few yards away from her and then the soldiers within stepped down with their bags and stood at attention before Colonel Carter. A general was also heading for her, which she knew from his stripes. The closer he came to her, the more familiar he seemed to her: it was General O'Neill. She had not recognised him at first because his face was permeated by tiredness. He looked older at this moment than he really was. After exchanging a few words, he handed her a file:

"Hello, Colonel Carter. This is one of the new recruits' personnel file, I don't know whose, but Hammond asked me to give it to you in person. This airman needs to be followed by a medic and you'll need to keep an eye, no make that both eyes, on him." He then left without adding anything further, clearly not wanting to get caught up in an endless chorus of goodbye's that had no meaning. She would have liked to hear him say more, like how he was or what was happening at the base. She turned to face the new arrivals and went about explaining base regulations and the need for confidentiality about where they were stationed. They were to have no contact with the outside. She then escorted them to their respective quarters and showed them the armoury as well as the infirmary, canteen and a few other leisure areas until they finally arrived at their , where they would report for duty and receive their orders.

"You can begin tomorrow, you'll each have a zone to patrol. I don't think there's anything else I need to say...rotas, extinguishing fires and breaks. That's all, you're dismissed." Sam then went back to her office, she was in need of a short break herself. Finally she opened the file of a woman. She saw that she was ill with a number of symptoms troubling her. What surprised her the most were the medical reports and vague diagnoses. "I'll have to meet her to show her the daily patrol duty roster and introduce -what-was-her-name?- Angela to the medical team." She then stood up and headed in the direction of the young woman's room. She knocked on the door and went in after hearing the occupant respond. What Sam saw surprised her. The woman in front of her was no longer that same radiant young woman she saw in the photo. There were streaks of white in her brown hair and her face had suffered from fatigue. "She must have been through a lot," Sam thought to herself.

"You're Angela, I take it?"

"Yes, Colonel."

"Come with me. I read that you'll need to see a doctor regularly and I'd like to introduce you to the medical staff now if that's alright."

"No, of course not. I should probably pay them a visit anyway." Angela followed Sam through the corridors. They barely spoke at first and then:

"What happened to you?" Sam asked her.

"I've been ill since a routine training exercise over Antarctica. I really don't know a lot about what happened. I don't even know why they sent us down there in the first place, Colonel," Angela answered.

"Call me Sam. Go on."

"My fighter was hit several times. I had to protect a huge plane. I held on for as long as I could and then my copilot and I crash landed."

"Nothing else happened aside from that, well nothing out of the ordinary anyway? If it's bothering you us talking about this, I'd rather not dredge up painful memories for you, Angela."

"No, it's fine, really. So, this shining light may have been the reason. When my fighter was in trouble, it was nose-diving towards the ground, but I was steadying it and then this light just appears and I feel this pain just pass through my body like I'm having a seizure, worse than when I was fighting against the electric waves in the plane."

"The light. What waves?"

"The plane glanced two missiles, at least I think that's what those things were, and the control panel stopped responding, it must have overloaded or short-circuited. The engines were shot pretty badly and the plane itself wasn't much better. As for the light, the whole cockpit was filled with it. Things got worse after that, because I had no strength left so it meant I had more and more trouble controlling the situation. I tried to limit the damage and if I remember rightly, the plane stayed lit up for quite a while."

"Strange."

"What's strange, Colonel?"

"Nothing."

Sam made a note to herself to remember to go over the medical reports in Angela's file and learn all she could from them. Something wasn't right here. The two young women made their way over to the infirmary, on their way passing Sam's lab into which the ship had been moved."

"This is where I work, my lab," Sam said as they passed the closed door.

"What do you do here?"

"We study new technologies like fighters or weapons," she said quickly, knowing all too well that the other woman could well learn the true depth of that statement after guarding the labs.

"Really, are the fighters operational? Any chance we could test them?"

"No, they're still a long way off," Sam said, laughing as she saw the excited look on Angela's face, which reminded her of the same look Jack had whenever Sam discovered some new technology, preferably a weapon. She did not mention that they were struggling to open the vessel and that was the frustrating part. Once she was inside, she would be in her element as no technology could withhold its secrets from her for long.

"We should get there on time, I'm going to introduce you to..."

She was cut off mid-sentence by the sound of the loudspeakers announcing :

"Colonel Carter, report to the labs on level 5, section 51, it's urgent."

"Sorry, duty calls, I have to leave you." She wrote a note and turned to the Sergeant guarding the door they were standing in front of, handing the piece of paper to him. "Take this and give it to Dr Olaf and take this airman to see him." With that she left, making sure she read up on Angela's condition.

End of flashback

That had been her first meeting with Angela. Afterwards, she had completely forgotten to study the effects of Ancient drones on the human body at close range during the Battle of Antarctica. Angela's health ... She broke off from her musings.

"Tell me, Jack, how did you meet Angela?"

"We were working together against a problem that had formed up on our border with Azerbaijan and we were charged with rescuing a Russian chemist who had been kidnapped near the frontier because of an important discovery he'd made. My government had given the order for him to be eliminated and hers wanted him alive so they could learn what he had discovered and what he knew about that country. We were taking him to safety and I planned to kill him behind Angela's back. But she knew what I was planning, I don't know how. She created a diversion and she blew up my car I planned on taking us to the nearest airport in. The next thing I knew, she disappears with a car and the scientist in tow. There was nothing I could have done; Russia asked her to help me so they did not want to do anything to jeapordise the alliance between our two countries. I think that's everything I can say. I don't hate her for what she did, in fact I think I got exactly what I deserved and I certainly would not want to be an enemy of hers, who would? In any case, I prefer to keep my distance from her.

"Did you ever see each other again after her accident?"

"Yes, a terrible accident. It happened during a routine training exercise, I'm told."

"That's right, it was such a shame," Sam said, struggling not to tell the truth of what went on.

"It was in Iraq where I noticed it first; her mood was constantly up and down, there was no controlling her. I couldn't understand it. I don't know whether it was all that Iraqi heat or her hormones or what, but I never could keep up with how she was going to act from one minute to the next. I barely recognised her."

"How so?" Teal'c asked, having been almost silent up till that point.

Jack, surprised as if noticing Teal'c for the first time, began to explain:

"Her mood swings and her way of throwing herself into the maw with no plan, no strategy and the way that pain never seemed to bother her," on seeing Sam's look of surprise, he continued, "exactly, she took two bullets to the chest and she never stopped until she got the hostages to safety. I'm not even sure if she knew she was hurt."

"Many soldiers do not concern themselves with pain until their mission has been completed, until they are themselves dead. It is a common attitude," Teal'c finished.

"Yes, perhaps, but not at the time I'm speaking of. The way she acted then was inhuman. I even studied the kidnappers' file to get some understanding just in case it was an act of vengeance. But there was no other possible reason other than saving those hostages."

The car's engine was the only source of sound at the moment and no-one was showing any sign of starting up another conversation. The rain continued to pound against the car windows.

In another car:

"Goddamned weather!" cursed Mitchell.

"That's why I'm driving slowly," seeing the impatient look on Mitchell's face, John focussed on avoiding any collision with other vehicles in the poor visibility and slow moving traffic, as well as keeping an eye out for the pedestrians crossing the roads wherever they felt like it.

"I know. This is unreal."

"What is?"

"This rain. The report said it would be good weather today."

""Looks like they got it wrong today."

"Yeah, but the report gave a five out of five, so the sun should definitely have been out but this is what we get."

"Complain to the weather office, not me, there's nothing I can do about it. But you're right, it's not "normal.""

"What do you mean?" Mitchell said, thinking at once of all the possible theories Sam could offer in explanation.

"Climate change."

"Ah," he said, stirred from his musings.

The rain was starting to set Mitchell's nerves entirely on edge. As well as that, he was feeling hungry. His belly was empty and he sat there listening to the sound of raindrops against the car windows and yawned. He tried to remember any details of the discussions he had had with Angela, but it really had been such a painful time that the mere mention of it made la poitrine . He had gone through so much in such little time: the crash landing in the battle against Anubis' forces, his admission to the hospital and the doctors' doubts whether he would recover. The prognosis had not been good, indeed the doctors had not been able to say with any certainty whether Mitchell would ever be able to walk again, which also brought back painful memories. He could still see himself in that wheelchair, immobile, unable to put one foot on the ground. He had been afraid that he would end up like his father: disabled. That memory of his father, sat on a bed both legs amputated had given him the strength he so desperately needed to fight to regain the use of his legs. He remembered how, at the start, how his efforts had all been in vain. Nothing improved and in fact his condition grew worse. Then, one day, he was awakened by a surprise and unexpected visit.

Flashback

Mitchell had just been visited by Sam and General O'Neill to congratulate him and commend him for his exemplary conduct in the Battle of Antarctica. Their visit had been cut short though, in fact, just as Sam was congratulating him, an alarm bell, swiftly followed by a stream of doctors pouring into to see the patient on the bed next to Mitchell's. One of the doctors asked all visitors to vacate the room. It turned out that the patient concerned had finally come out of his coma, at least as far as Mitchell could tell from his bed. He had no idea who his neighbour was, given that in all the time he had been in the ward, he had never seen the other patient wake up, nor caught even a glimpse of him. The other patient was in pretty rough shape, completely covered in bandages which didn't even allow his eyes to be seen and then there were the tubes that protruded from every part of his body. The medics were gathered excitedly about his bed, apparently quite satisfied with the prognosis. Then calm was restored and the room emptied as quickly as it had been filled. Mitchell pricked up his ears to listen in on the encouraging words the nurse changing the drips was giving. That was the only distraction he had that day, his neighbour waking up.

A week later, the patient began to open his eyes, much to the surprise of many of the doctors. Mitchell was only able to gather that it was a miracle that the electroencephalogram was now normal, at least when compared to its previous state. Only a few weeks before, the electrical activity in the patient's brain had been virtually zero. That person should not have woken up. Mitchell asked the doctor for any news.

"I just saw you a minute ago with my neighbour. How's he doing?" Mitchell asked.

"The patient has woken up and can now breathe on his own. It's a surprise to all of us, given his condition."

"But he's out of the woods now, Doc? I mean, he's going to pull through, right?" The idea of having an "active" neighbour cheered Mitchell up no end.

"Well, nothing's certain, but we came a long way today."

"Tell me something, Doc, was this guy down in Antarctica as well?"

"This woman, Mitchell. Yes, she was there."

"A woman!" Mitchell sat himself up so that the doctor could listen to his heartbeat.

"I know the bandages might hide a lot, but I can assure you that there is a woman underneath them. I'm sorry, but we didn't have any more beds in this unit, so I had her placed next to you. I didn't see any problem, given her condition."

"No, that's fine..."

"If it bothers you, then I could have her moved, she's no longer a priority case," the doctor said as he examined Mitchell's eyes.

"No, no, leave her where she is."

"How are you getting along with your exercises, Mitchell?"

"Still on the priority list, Doc."

"I didn't mean to..."

"Don't worry about it, it's nothing. I'm at death's door anyway."

"Ah..." The doctor chose his next words carefully. "It will happen when it happens, Mitchell, I don't have any doubt about that. In any case, you're recovering well."

"Thanks, well compared to what my neighbour's gone through, I guess I'm in great shape," he said, as he looked at the once again sleeping form of his neighbour.

"Okay, well I'm going to leave you now. If you need anything..."

"I'll bleep you," Mitchell said, holding up the buzzer.

One week later, Mitchell found himself in the re-education room, still firmly entrenched in the same spot:

"Okay, Doc, let's leave it there for today."

"No, we haven't finished all our exercises yet."

"I can't do it and I'm exhausted. Take me back."

The nurse, seeing that Mitchell meant what he was saying, helped him back into his wheelchair. She took him back to his room and helped him get back onto the bed.

"It's okay not to finish the exercises, Mitchell."

"Why do you really want me to do all those exercises? You know as well as I do I'm never walking again," Mitchell replied drily.

"So, you're giving up?" came a voice all of a sudden.

Mitchell turned to face the owner of that voice. It belonged to a young woman sitting in a wheechair with one of her friends at the door to his room. Her hair was medium length and had wraps almost everywhere on her face. She was wearing a dressing gown but he could imagine that underneath it she was still wrapped like a mummy. Her hands were both bandaged up.

"Who do you think you are sticking your nose in my business? My doctor?" Mitchell retorted, still in a bad mood.

"No, I'm not your doctor, she nodded to her friend to leave them alone who did so, kissing her forehead as he went, "luckily for you. I would have killed you by now to put you out of my misery."

"Ah, Angela, you're back. Come on, I'll help you," the nurse said.

"Oh, I forgot, we haven't actually been introduced, although we've been sleeping together in the same room for weeks. I'm Angela, your neighbour. And I'm telling you now, if I hear you carrying on all day the way you are now, I swear I'll kill you. I can't stand noisy neighbours."

"Oh, let him alone, he's grumpy but he's alright," the nurse added as she broke into Angela and Mitchell's conversation, then she left them alone.

Sorry, I didn't know it was you. Let me introduce myself. I'm Cameron Mitchell. I didn't recognise you without the...," he motioned at her bandages.

"Yes, I'm sure. You didn't answer my question."

"And what question is that?"

"Are you going to just give up?" Seeing that he wasn't going to respond, she carried on, "let's make a deal, if you really make an effort to walk again, then I'll do the same . I want for both of us to walk out of here. Maybe you just need a little help and I would like to give it to you."

"Uh, I..."

Someone had entered the room. It was the doctor.

"So how are my favourite "critical patients" doing?"

"Good," they both lied in unison.

"Angela, I see you're making an excellent recovery," he said as he took her file and studied it. I'm impressed at how quickly your condition is improving, it really is remarkable. He took another file and opened it, "all good here as well. Angela, I came to tell you that you're scheduled to begin your re-education today as well as kinaesthetic sessions. You should be ready to go in five minutes."

Two days later and Mitchell and Angela had become fast friends. They were getting on well but saw little of each other given the difference in their schedules. It was time for his exercises and Mitchell was headed towards the training room where his teacher was waiting. He no longer needed a nurse to help him to get out. He was nearing the room when he saw his roommate, Angela, proceeding with her exercises with great difficulty, which at that moment consisted of steadying herself between two barriers. Thanks to the support, the person was supposed to walk as upright as possible without pausing if they could. He was a few steps into his routine and he was managing to keep himself upright for several seconds, moving a good metre. For her, the exercise wasn't going so well. He stopped a minute to watch her.

"No, not like that. You're putting too much weight on your arms. You can't walk using your arms, try and support yourself on your left leg."

"I can't, it's shaking too much," Angela said back to the nurse.

"Stop then, don't tire yourself for nothing. I told you not to take things too quickly, you're not read yet. You've made a lot of progress today, so don't be too hard on yourself, Angela."

"No, I want to try again, just one more time. I can't sit in that room all day long, I have to do something physical."

"You're getting bored of reading all the time."

"Yes," she said, gripping the barrier and forcing herself to stand, "come on, Angela, you know you can do it."

"I don't know that this is such a good idea, you're going to inflame the pain in your leg," the nurse said, as Angela fixed herself into position.

"It's already come back," she said, ignoring the anger growing on the nurse's face, "the painkillers aren't doing anything now."

"Okay, if you want to hurt yourself then go ahead, but you should stop now."

"Just one more time and I'll stop, I promise."

Angela once again started her exercise. She stood with her feet together between the barriers, her leg covered in bandages. Her left hand left the rail so that her bodyweight could be supported on her left leg. Shaking still, her leg partially supported her bodyweight. She then decided to take a step forward, as she would on crutches. However, the minute she tried, her leg gave in under the extra weight and she collapsed. The pain the young girl was in was written all over her face. Mitchell got ready to help the nurse get his neighbour back on her feet.

"It's nothing, leave me alone," she said, not even seeing Mitchell. The nurse pushed her wheelchair.

"Thanks anyway," the nurse said to him as she wheeled the patient back to her room.

There were several thoughts going through Mitchell's head, chief amongst which was Angela's clear desire to walk again. That was a desire he had lost a while ago. He felt such admiration and compassion for his neighbour. He no longer felt the constant pain he once had and he understood all too well the frustration he had seen on her face, the frustration that she was unable to complete this one simple exercise. He underwent his exercises and yawned, the time seeming to take forever to pass. This time he made the decision to follow through to the end on his exercises. His teacher praised him for it and after the session he went back to his room to get ready for one of his famous card games with his neighbour whom he had come to know so well. Today was poker day.

"You deal, I'll be there in a minute," Mitchell said as he made his way into the room.

"Tarot?"

"No, poker."

"You already owe me $300, are you sure you can take more pain?" Angela said jokingly.

"That's why we're gonna play now so I can clear my debts. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that...," Mitchell stopped for a second, convinced that she could see his cards. He did not know how, but he suspected he was right, "are you reading my mind?" Mitchell joked.

Angela however was not joking. The look she gave him, in those light green eyes of hers, seemed to bore into Mitchell's very soul, making him distinctly uneasy.

"What if we played strip poker," Mitchell said, attempting to lighten the mood.

"I assume that's a joke," she said as she looked at her cards, "I'll take two."

"Yeah, I'm just kidding. Your run won't last, it's just beginner's luck. Well I hope it is anyway, because otherwise I'm gonna regret teaching you to play. I'll take three."

Silence ensued. Angela looked at him with the look she often reserved for when they were playing their card games. She looked for the slightest indication of him bluffing, the hint of a lie in his attitude. Mitchell was looking at her too but she was giving nothing away, no expression whatsoever. She was generally good at hiding things. He remembered the look she had on her face when she had fallen. He was first to break the silence.

"You've got a deal."

"Huh?" she exclaimed, not hiding her surprise, "you were meant to miser la."

"Tapis," he put down his cards, "remember our deal, a few days ago if I remember rightly."

"Yes, I remember, I don't often forget anything and..."

And so I'll say it again, it's a deal, I'm in." He held out his hand to her, "you said you wanted us to both get out of here, but I can't do that on my own. I need you to share some of that desire to succeed with me."

"I don't know, I was feeling very optimistic when I said that. I didn't know then how weak I really was," then she made her own decision, "okay, deal., I'll share my desire with you," she laughed.

"You talk like it was a long time ago."

"I know, but so much has happened since then."

"So, we have an agreement?"

She nodded her head, as sure as Mitchell in her decision.

Unfortunately, Angela's training routine was interrupted as she had another problem to contend with. Under the amused eye of Mitchell, Angela was made to undergo daily hypnosis sessions with a psychiatrist to help jog her memory into remembering details of the accident. Mitchell knew a few details of what had happened but never spoke about it. The doctors thought that now was the right time to bring her memories to the surface. From the get go, the sessions had no effect. To remedy this, she also attended concentration classes, in which Mitchell also participated to help her along, but they always ended up in hysterics. They would both erupt into fits of laughter. Then one day, the psychiatrist changed tactics and accompanies the hypnosis with medication. This caused her to experience flashbacks. From the outside it was impressive, Angela was convulsing as the stream of memories from the battle over Antarctica came flooding back to her. Whilst this was happening, Mitchell had recollections of his own. For a few minutes all went well. She talked about how the enemy was all around her, overwhelming her, her team in trouble: one by one they disappeared. Her plane was itself in danger and her Mirage 911 had lost all radio contact with base and HQ. She tried without success to call for assistance. Suddenly, the radio relayed a mayday. Mitchell remembered that he himself had been in danger when he came across an allied aircraft belonging to another unit and he asked the pilot for help. A woman's voice had answered him, the same one with whom he now shared a hospital room. She had not been able to offer much assistance, given that he was still there and unable to walk but she had nonetheless been able to avoid the explosion of her fighter. He came back to reality, and the recollections took a different tone. Angela was now talking about the shining light. That too he remembered. That and the pain which he thankfully could no longer feel. Then the pace quickened and Angela, all the while under hypnosis, began to panic: her plane was diving towards the ground, she must have lost control of it. The psychiatrist tried to calm her down but she showed no signs of abating. "Was she aware of the panic? Surely not." A number of nurses arrived to attend to Angela. They then recoiled in fear, holding out their hands, pain visible on their faces. Angela was no longer moving; she had frozen still whereas her body coursed with a wave of energy that pulsated from top to bottom. A halo of fire surrounded her unconscious body like electric waves . The nurses just looked at her in bewilderment, not knowing quite how to react. From that moment on, the doctors were incessant in surrounding Angela's bed but at the same time keeping their distance from her for fear she might electrocute them. When she came back round, she reported that she could not understand what was happening to her. for their part, the doctors were no more wise than she was. This unusual phenomenon both troubled and fascinated them. They wanted to study what was happening, eager to learn all they could from this new discovery. Mitchell would later learn that Angela, following the return of her memories, had begun to display this ability after her accident. She vehemently rejected the possibility that her body had adapted in such a way that it could now withstand electrical current which defied the established laws of human biology, laws such as "the Nersnt Law or Next Law or something like that." Mitchell had heard her say. But they had now moved beyond the theoretical. In short, he learned that Angela had become the topic of study for several doctors as well as the subject of many a lively discussion (they were nearly falling over one another to put forward their own theories of what had happened to her). All the talk of electric potential and "electronegmachines" was giving Mitchell a headache. He had had just about enough of the constant visits by different doctors to his new friend's bedside asking her the most idiotic questions about her accident, which in turn led to unpleasant memories resurfacing for her. As if she hadn't suffered enough already, in fact it seemed as if they loved asking their questions one after the other, many of which led to sparks gathering at Angela's fingertips, who still had no idea of what was happening to her. The doctors themselves became visibly excited each time there was a sign of a spark, apparently more concerned with their studies of such an anomalous phenomenon than with the wellbeing of their charge. They were not even focussing on a way to treat her condition, probably afraid that the sparks might stop flying if they did. It was this attitude towards her that made Mitchell want to hit them "my friend is not some lab rat." As unique a case as she was, she was nevertheless a human being. Despite all this, Angela remained calm. At least she had not yet killed anybody and she answered the doctors' questions in the belief that the doctors were going to help her recover. She had no idea of how wrong she was. Fortunately, not all her doctors had the same agenda. One of them was concerned for her wellbeing, that man being Dr Carel. He spoke a lot about the anomaly whereas all the others were more concerned with the patient's extraordinary abilities, powers and gifts. He could see the danger she was in. How long would she be able to cope with this pressure before she broke? He had even asked the opinion of another physician regarding the data he had gathered from her. That doctor then asked him where he had managed to obtain figures like those, given that the only other readings of that magnitude had been extracted from volcanoes or nuclear activity. He wanted to know the source of the readings and find out all he could about them, but Carel said nothing. According to the other physician, unless she found some way to bring this energy under control, she would cause enormous damage, a case which fit Angela's lack of control very well. This new ability of hers was linked strongly to her emotional state or her fatigue. He was amazed that his colleagues had not yet provoked her into causing an accident, wondering what effect this anomaly would have on her in the long term. For the moment, her body seemed to be able to handle what was asked of it. It had no choice but to endure for its own survival given the incredible adaptations that had appeared in it. In order to protect the patient and those around her, he came to a confrontation with his colleagues, none of whom seemed happy with his demands. All they could see was an opportunity slipping through their fingers. For now, Angela's priority was learning to channel this energy through concentration exercises which had assumed a prominent role in her care plan. This mix of yoga, reflection and plant tisanes that she brewed to create an atmosphere conducive to a clear thought process or a call to her spirit. Again, Mitchell took it upon himself to help her in her meditations just as she helped him with his physical exercises. This partnership worked well for the most part, except for those times when Mitchell made her laugh when she was trying to concentrate. In those moments, she allowed herself to let go and sparkled with wellness, as well as the electricity in her fingertips.

"Why are you helping me? You know as well as I do that you hate sitting here doing nothing. You need some action," Angela said.

"Yeah, I love action, but when I'm in the company of a charming young lady, there's nothing I can't handle, even the old lady in the room opposite us harping on about her cats."

"Don't lie to me, you can't stand her."

"No, seriously, even I'm starting to love old Crapouille, the disaster cat.

"It's called Cripouille, you idiot."

"Yeah, you're right."

"So how are your exercises going, any better?"

"Yeah, about as well as Veinard, the vegetable cat."

"You mean Vinylle."

"Oh, so I'm supposed to accept that coming from someone with a tumour in their head that's not going anywhere."

"It is Vinylle."

"Well then who's Veinard?"

"He's the one she found in a well, she stopped him from drowning and ..."

"Okay, they're not going great," Mitchell said.

"I have a meeting with Doctor Carel this afternoon," she said, changing the subject, "but his colleagues won't be there. He's taking extra care to see me when none of them are around."

"Good, I don't like the rest of them."

"So maybe I could take the kinaesthetic sessions when you do, as long as that's alright with you," she carried on.

A few days later and they were both back in training. Mitchell had just come back from his sessions.

"You dropped too easily, I saw you," Angela started.

"You spying on me now?" Mitchell was looking frustrated, but on seeing Angela's equally angry visage, he said, "I just can't do it and it hurts so much."

"Think differently then."

"Meaning?"

"Think that you're doing this for yourself, not for the stupid walk. Raise the bar."

"I don't know how."

Much later on that evening.

"Come on, wake up," said Angela.

"Let me sleep," he said, turning to the other side.

"Get up," she picked up her own pillow and threw it at him, "I've got a surprise."

"I hope it's a good one," he said as he rose gently, "like some gorgeous, naked woman."

"For God's sake, is that all you guys ever think about, sex?"

"You can talk, it's women who encourage us anyway. I'd like to remind you that I've spent more than a month sleeping next to a charming young woman in the same room."

"Oh really? Who was that?"

"You wouldn't know her. She's the complete opposite of you: beautiful, elegant, lets me win at card games and leaves me to sleep in peace and quiet."

"Well I've looked long and hard and I don't know who you're talking about. Come on, let's go."

She pointed to a wheelchair. She had been walking on crutches for a week now but it would be a long way before she was fully recovered. Mitchell said nothing but he was certainly jealous of the results she had seen in such a short space of time.

"And anyway, why would I let you beat me at cards? We only improve when we play - and lose - against stronger opponents."

"I don't see how anyone could be a stronger opponent than me," Mitchell remarked jokingly as he hefted himself into the chair.

Angela pushed it, using its handles to support herself as she passed Mitchell her crutches to hold. Mitchell hated being in this chair and there was now a blindfold covering his eyes as if the chair were not bad enough.

"Do I really need to wear this?" Mitchell asked.

"Yes, it's part of the surprise and don't bother trying to get any more out of me than that."

"Ok."

She then steered him in the direction she wanted. He felt as though Angela was training one of her legs. He guessed they were going to take the elevator to get to wherever it was they were going. He even started counting the number of doors they were passing through just to make the time spent in total darkness go by a little faster. Neither of them spoke a word. They did not come across anyone else. After what seemed like an inordinately long period of time, she finally removed the blindfold.

"Surprise!" Angela said.

The room was fairly dark, the only lighting given off by clear blue lamps. It was only after he spotted the blanket and picnic basket that he realised they were in the pool room.

"What are we doing in the hospital swimming pool instead of being tucked up in bed sleeping like babies?" Mitchell asked.

What little light there was reflected only on the surface of the water. The result was a bizarre ambience, some might say romantic. He chased that idea from his thoughts as soon as it appeared and turned his thoughts towards the basket. Angela saw him.

"Well, you know, I noticed this afternoon and this evening you barely touched your food and so I thought it would be a good idea to have a picnic to see if we can't help you find that appetite of yours. So I had the perfect excuse to lure you here and there's also something I wanted you to see."

She brought the wheelchair up to the picnic blanket.

"Well, now that you mention it, I am getting kinda hungry."

"You see, I'm full of bright ideas."

"And how did you get a hold of this stuff?"

"I have my sources." Changing the subject, she began, "I would come down here a lot when I still couldn't walk."

"Why's that?"

"To go fishing," she laughed, "but seriously, you'll find that out for yourself. It'll help you to be here.!

"Now why didn't all those doctors tell me to go look at the water if it would've helped me?" he teased her.

"Because they didn't know about my trips to the pool," she answered drily.

"That's ok, I was just kidding."

"That's your problem, everything's always a joke to you. You can't make light of things like this."

"I know, I get it," Mitchell answered, more seriously this time. "So, the doctors just didn't know you were having all these night time excursions."

"Well, given my problems, I think they would have banned me from the pool right away, if they'd known."

"Well, it's not exactly what I'd recommend in your case either. How did you manage...?"

"I came late at night," she answered, cutting off his question.

"At night?"

"Yes, even though you were sleeping right next to me, you never knew a thing."

"But why?"

"Because I had to know, I wanted to be sure..."

"That you could take a shower with no risk? I asked myself the same question."

"Well that helped me."

"Helped you with what?"

"You'll see. Do you want to find out right now or have something to eat first?"

"I don't think my stomach is about to give me a choice, so I'll wait till after we're done eating. So what do we have?"

As if in response, Angela took off the lids while Mitchell positioned himself on the blanket. She took out a bottle of wine. As Mitchell looked at it, he saw it was French wine. He dared not ask how she had managed to get her hands on that. She also took out a plate of salad and meat. His mouth was watering and his stomach growled in hunger."

"You've surpassed yourself."

"Oh, I didn't make it, if that's what you're thinking. I'm a terrible cook."

"I'm not so bad myself, not that I like to blow my own trumpet."

"Ah, really? A man who knows how to cook. Now this I have to see."

"Sure, men are good at plenty of things. Maybe some time you'll even throw something together yourself."

"We'll see about that."

They began to eat. They talked about sports, war and different TV reports they had seen. They were enjoying the moment while it lasted. Mitchell thought he could feel the heat rising from her, he felt the aura emanating from her.

"I have something to tell you."

"Yes," she said, lifting her head up and waiting for him to speak.

"I forgot my bathing suit."

Angela burst out in laughter. He loved those times when they could laugh without holding back.

"Don't worry, you won't need it."

"Are you saying that when you used to come here, you swam naked?"

"Nearly."

"And you expect me to..."

"That's what the bag is for," she said as she threw it to him, "these are what the hospital uses for its patients i.e. us."

Mitchell looked at the bag's contents and added:

"I really am having a great time tonight, I'm glad I let you get me out of bed."

"Ah, come on let's get changed," she said, not quite knowing how to answer, "I'll go first. You can turn around while I get undressed," she said to him as she took one of the two suits.

"Aren't there any cubicles?"

"No, they're out of action. Are you turning round, we don't have all night?"

Mitchell duly turned around as she began to undress. It seemed like a long time to him, surely she couldn't need that long to change? Worrying she might have left, he turned round just in time to see her closing the back of her suit. She trusted him absolutely and then she turned round, as she did so he noticed a tattoo on her collarbone but not clearly enough to make out what it was. He would have looked more attentively, but she suddenly turned round, so he quickly put his own head facing the way it had been before.

"Okay, you can turn back around now, I've finished. Now it's your turn." she said with no indication that she had seen him watching her. She handed him the second outfit and turned round herself.

He also changed into his outfit, although it was not a pleasant experience for him, as he found that it clung too much and he had trouble fitting into it comfortably. When he had finally managed it, he looked himself up and down as best he could and then turned to Angela. The outfits they were wearing did little to hide the shapes of their bodies and Mitchell realised this immediately. Angela noted him as he did this.

"What?"

"No, nothing," he said, avoiding Angela's piercing stare, "it's just a little clingy, I feel a bit strange in it."

Angela dug around a little and produced some kind of swimming band that went around the hips.

"These will help you swim," she said as she plunged into the pool, the resultant splash of the water echoing around the room.

The water was rather cold. Angela made her way over to the steps and signalled for him to follow her in. Mitchell decided he would have to take it one step at a time getting into the water. He stepped into the pool with care. He then concluded that the water was not so cold after all. Feeling the water on his legs was a strange feeling for him, though not an unpleasant one. It seemed to bring them back to life again.

"Keep coming down and come close to the ledge of the pool and put your hands on it. The swimming bands will help you keep your balance."

He did as he was told, surprised that he was able to stand on his own two legs, even if it was because he was being supported by the ledge. It was then that he understood what Angela wanted him to realise.

"I see now, I can hold myself upright in the water because it's lighter, so I can support my own weight more easily."

"Exactly. Under normal conditions, your legs can't take your weight when you try to walk," she said adding, "you've gone so long without moving because of your accident. Your body decided to prioritise your recovery over your wellbeing and by that I mean your muscle development. The kinesthetics sessions are supposed to help you tone your muscles while your body is focussed on something else. But that's not enough to keep your muscles in shape, so they've atrophied a little. There's also the effect of weight and gravity on..."

"So, in short, what you're trying to tell me is that I ought to carry on with my exercises and get my leg muscles back in shape and that'll get me walking again. Fine, but I don't see what that has to do with the water."

"In the water, the issue of weight on your legs is minimised so you can focus more on your physical exercises without exerting your body and that way you can work your muscles a lot better. Try taking a few steps forward."

"Okay, when you put it that way," he said as he took a few tentative steps, "but how come you know all this stuff?"

"I studied, I know a little about the body. I studied biology in college," she explained as she noticed that Mitchell was managing to put one foot in front of the other without too much difficulty, she then suggested, "alright, now see if you can make it to the first blue line."

"You think I can't go any further than that? Mitchell replied, satisfied with the progress he was making in the water.

"No, sorry, it's just that once you get there, you won't be able to touch the floor of the pool anymore and I'd really hate to see you drown," she said jokingly.

"Very funny. It's okay, I'm sure you'll be there to give me mouth-to-mouth."

She did not respond and instead swam off. For the first time since his accident, Mitchell felt truly free as he went back and forth several times. In the meantime, Angela was swimming lengths of the pool until she finally decided to take a rest, and leaned against the ledge on the other side of the pool so as not to get in Mitchell's way. She turned herself around and poured herself a glass of wine. After doing several more relays, Mitchell decided to try crossing the width of the pool so he could catch up to Angela as he attempted to maintain his balance. Although it took a while, he eventually ended up joining her on the other side. He clung to the ledge as she did and helped himself to some sausage.

"Thanks," Mitchell said, "but I think I told you that already."

"You're welcome, I had to return the favour for all the help you gave me with the concentration sessions."

"Ah, that was nothing."

"Well, we should really be going, " she said, not quite finding the words she wanted to express, "otherwise tomorrow we won't get up and I have no intention of missing breakfast. Oh, and I'd recommend you take a good hot shower before you go to bed."

"Why?"

"The first time I did this, I had a funny surprise when I woke up the next day. Believe me I learnt my lesson when I felt the pain in my legs the minute I tried to move, but as long as you take a shower, you should be fine."

On that note, she pushed herself up with her arms to get herself out of the water and without much of a problem as far as Mitchell could make out. He made his way to the steps and went up them slowly. Angela searched around in the bag the suits had been in, removing two towels. She started drying her hair and waited for Mitchell to get out so she could hand him his own.

"Dry yourself off," she said as she handed him a towel, "you have a couple minutes to get changed," she said as she turned around.

Mitchell did the same as he started towelling himself. He was the first to get dressed and waited for Angela to tell him he could turn back round. He sat back down in his wheelchair as he waited for Angela to finish getting dressed.

"Okay, let's go," she said.

"I was just waiting for you," Mitchell said, "after you."

She picked up her crutches and gathered up the contents of their picnic basket and then came over towards Mitchell. She put the basket on her knees and then handed him her crutches.

"Make sure you remember the route for next time if you want to come back here," Angela said.

"Okay."

"It's best to go between midnight and 2 AM."

"Thanks, but I think I'll ask the doc's advice first. I don't like the idea of coming here without backup."

"Where's your sense of adventure? You should do what feels right and you're right, if something goes wrong, there'll be no-one here to help you."

"Well, I'll have some time to think it over anyway, I'll see about it tomorrow."

"You mean in a few hours," she said as they finally made it to the elevator. She pushed the button for the third floor.

"Good night," Angela said, breaking the silence.

"Same to you."

The situation was ridiculous. They had just said good night to one another because they could not think of anything else to say. A sense of general uneasiness began to settle in as Mitchell got back into bed in such as a way as he could not see his neighbour. He just wanted to lighten the atmosphere at that point.

"By the way, I like your tattoo, but what does it mean?" he grimaced, aware of the faux-pas he had just made, given that he was not supposed to have been looking.

She did not answer. Was she already asleep? He was tempted to turn over so he could see her reaction, the look of surprise on her face but he didn't dare. He thought about the day's events, especially those of this evening, which had turned out to be rather pleasant with the picnic and all. Had he been expecting a romantic dinner that evening? He contemplated his relationship with Angela, but then fatigue overcame him.

From that point on, he began to make significant progress, to the extent that he was finally able to walk again The doctors gave Mitchell their consent to make his daily visits to the pool, seeing that it was clearly aiding his recovery. As for Angela, she had just left the training room. Every day now she was spending an hour running both to get back into shape and use up some of her energy, in all senses of that word. She urgently needed the exercise for her new position in the army. In fact, the only reason she was still in hospital was for the fact that Dr Carel was reluctant to let her leave, given her condition. That condition was actually not constant; one minute she would bound with energy and the next se was exhausted, overcome with illness brought on by the tumour still present in her brain. Mitchell had known about that since he had learned of her presence, but since then had entirely forgotten. The doctors had diagnosed this issue when she was first admitted, but had put it to one side as it were while they waited for Angela to awaken from her coma and make a full recovery. But nevertheless it was still there, lodged in her brain. At the beginning, any operation to remove it was made unthinkable because of the coma, her condition and the location of the tumour itself. As well as that, one other issue impeded her treatment which was of course the powers she was beginning to manifest. The doctors were unable to conduct X-Ray scans or an MRI. These problems had not subsided and in the meantime the tumour had continued to grow, despite the medication she was taking. She was prescribed some heavy short-term therapy to stabilise the progression of the tumour with a view to finally leaving the hospital. However, the day finally came, following a rigorous treatment schedule. She had been waiting for this day so long that she thought it might never come. She was eager to rejoin the army. She had previously written to her general to see if she could regain her old position but he had refused outright because of her accident and also her illness i.e. the brain tumour. Her newfound abilities had been kept secret, although he had offered her a position in a surveillance post in a secret base. It was nevertheless the only post the army was willing to offer her.

When the time to leave was finally upon her, Mitchell arrived from one of his muscle-building sessions. He had passed the need for the crutches and saw Angela standing facing her bed, folding up her clothes with care. One by one, she put everything away in her travel bag, all her possessions carried in one hand. In the other, she held a letter with a distracted air about her. She did not even notice Mitchell's presence, who was himself a little troubled. He knew that the time had finally come and he would have preferred it be later, as he was not yet ready to admit that this may be the last they would see of each other.

"You all packed up?" Mitchell asked.

"Uh, yeah, ..., I got my discharge papers today."

"You're not leaving right away, then?"

"No," she said, seeing Mitchell's face relax slightly, "I still have things to sort out, so I'm leaving tomorrow first thing."

"So soon?"

"Don't you think I've spent enough time here already? I'm due to take up my new posting a little over a week from now," she said as she continued to gather her belongings. "Before I can do that, I have to undergo a physical to see if I'm fit enough to return to duty. That'll be for a week in some camp in Arizona in some dusty corner in the middle of nowhere. What about you?

"What do you mean?"

"When are you leaving here.?" Seeing that Mitchell did not seem to want to answer her, she added, "I know a high-ranking officer came to see you, a general to be exact, weren't you saying you wanted to be part of a particular team?" On seeing the surprised look Mitchell gave her. "Yes, I saw him, well heard him is more accurate. He came by to talk to you a few times after your accident, whether you were aware or not. But yes, I heard everything, all the conversations, as brief and boring as they were, but it was at least something to break the boredom of my own existence, when I was wrapped up in my own 'cocoon'. There was a woman who came to see you too."

"Well, it wasn't my wife, if that's what you're thinking," sensing a teasing tone coming from her, "I'm not married."

"And I wasn't asking, it's none of my business," she said, laughing, sensing she may have touched a nerve. So, Mitchell was single. That merely confirmed her own suspicions, "but I did wonder."

"You had quite a few visitors," he stressed the last word, "and afterwards..."

"I saw them a few times," Angela cut him off, "I didn't want to disturb you from your brooding so I took to meeting them in the cafeteria given how you were acting at that point."

"I hope you're joking. You could just say you didn't want to introduce them to me."

"No, no," she said in self defence, "don't play that game, answer my question."

"And what question was that?"

"What are you going to do?"

"If I make a complete recovery, then I'll be able to fulfil my dream. General O'Neill accepted my request."

"Whoa, you talk like this is some buried treasure you just found. So, what was this request?"

"I can't tell you."

"Well, I have a feeling you'll fight on and be out of here soon and be accepted back into the fold and both of us will get back to living the lives we had before the accident," she finished as she zipped up her bag.

"We're going to stay in touch, right?"

"Want me to send you a postcard?" she teased.

"No, well, maybe," but Mitchell was being serious, he really wanted to maintain some contact with his newfound friend.

"I'm not the best at writing letters, but I will make the effort for you," she said as she looked for some paper in her travel bag. She ripped it in half and scribbled something on it. She gave Mitchell her paper and pens, "here's my e-mail address and cell, just in case you want to call me and talk. I won't give you my address because I tend to move about quite a lot."

"Okay," he wrote down his own contact details and handed her his own slip of paper.

She tucked it away in her folder and put it in her bag.

"Have you been given any instructions to manage your condition?" Mitchell asked her.

"Uh,..." she said as she searched for something. Finding what she was looking for, she held it up for Mitchell to see "Dr Carel gave me a list of medicines and wrote me a prescription and said I would need to be followed in my next posting. He handed over my whole medical record with all the test results and the copies, he doesn't want to keep any of it. He also destroyed all the blood and cell samples they collected from me. He's pretty much removed any trace I was ever in this hospital."

"What for?"

"My old employers."

"I guess you can't talk about it?"

"That's right?"

"Okay then, no questions. You know, I feel like I know absolutely nothing about you, but you seem to know everything about my life."

"A lot of men get that impression."

"Are you close to all of them?"

"Not really, it's just the impression I get. I think I've got everything," she said as she looked at her travel bag one more time."

Mitchell was not convinced that her impression was just that.

"I hope I didn't forget anything," Angela said, stirring Mitchell.

"It's fine," Mitchell said, "you'll be back here to keep me company and if not I can send anything to you. Relax, you're so worked up. You know you have to work on controlling your emotions."

"I know, I know, it's just that I've been waiting for this moment for so long and now that it's finally here, I don't even know if I'll be able to sleep tonight."

They spent the rest of that day together, Angela tried to avoid all mention of her imminent departure while Mitchell made an effort to appear happy about the situation, making the most of his last full day with his friend. Because of the nature of that day, Mitchell made a special effort to play chess. Angela had been teaching him to play for several days, albeit without much success, given that his debts were mounting. However, the rules of the game simply would not stick and he was hesitant in the placement of his pieces.

"Why exactly are we playing this stupid game again?" Mitchell asked her.

"I like this game."

"Okay, I'll try for your sake then."

"You taught me to play poker, so I'll do the same for you with chess."

"Speaking of poker, you can't leave."

"What?"

"I said you can't leave."

"I know, but what does that have to do with chess?"

"Well, there isn't any actually. You see, I'm not the most logical person," he said, picking up one of his pawns and deciding where to place it, "so you can't leave because I owe you money," he looked at the board, not wanting to meet Angela's gaze, despite being sure of his winning strike.

"In that case, your debts are cleared," she took a chess piece, "checkmate."

"There you go, I lost again, only for the ten, no twelfth time, so you can't just write off my debts."

"Yes I can."

"Oh for God's sake, you can't just leave. What about me if I'm left here with all these naughty nurses? Anyway, you're a captive here, just like me, both in it together."

"Haven't we talked about this already?"

"I got the impression that you were talking and I was listening. So, you're not planning on just sneaking off."

"No, of course not Mitchell, I'll say goodbye before I leave and we'll write towards the end of every month to find out what's new and we can even see each other sometime if that's what you want."

"I'm gonna hold you to that?"

"I don't doubt it."

They talked a little while longer, speaking about everything as they played their last chess match. Night time arrived and they were still talking. Mitchell dared not go to sleep for fear that Angela might be gone when he woke. However, the nurses protested, insisting that they both get some sleep. In the end, fatigue won out.

On waking, Mitchell felt something tugging him. It was Angela.

"Wake up, I have to leave."

"What time is it?" Mitchell said, rubbing his eyes and feeling exhausted at not having slept nearly as much as he needed. However, the word 'leave' woke him up like a cold shower.

"It's 11 AM," she answered.

"Already?"

"You slept like a log."

"No, I mean, you're leaving already?" he said, only at that moment realising that they were not alone.

There was a man holding place near the door holding a travel bag and waiting patiently for a sign that it was time to go. Seeing that Mitchell had noticed the other man, she introduced the pair.

"This is Bryan, my best friend and co-pilot and this is Mitchell, my roommate. "

"Nice to meet you. I hope she wasn't too much trouble for you?"

"Don't talk trash. Go wait for me outside, I won't be long," she said as she pushed Bryan towards the door.

"He's pretty cute."

"Oh, I can give you his number if you want?"

"No, I just..."

"I have to go."

"Promise me you'll write."

"Okay, I promise, but I really have to get going now. She came close to Mitchell and took him in her arms, "look after yourself."

"Yeah, same to you."

Angela got up, and then kissed him before she hurriedly left. Had she just kissed him? A kiss, that was the last memory he had of her. The softness of her lips still lingered on his as he saw her leave the room. He would have liked to stay that way, but it was too late. He stayed there a while, still overcome by shock, not wanting to break the moment. He then vaguely heard the nurse say:

"The day soon came, huh?"

"Yeah."

End of flashback

"We're here. Sleep well?"

"Yeah, I guess. How long was I asleep?"

"About three hours. We've been held up in traffic for a lot of it, so we'll be late for this meeting," John answered.

"But," he said looking at his watch, "I think it helped us with our search. I remembered things I'd forgotten that could help us find Angela a little faster. I know it was a dream, but I'd still like to see if I'm right."

"I would ask you what you remembered, but it probably wouldn't be worth it seeing as how you're not likely to tell us anything."

"I just don't want to get your hopes up."

"I think we're here, this street looks okay so I'll drop you off here. I'm going to park somewhere the rain won't soak me through."

Mitchell got out of the car and ran straight for the cover of their hideout as the rain continued to pour. Once inside, he pressed the elevator button. John caught up to him just in time to catch the elevator. Everyone was waiting there already hunched over the huge files with coffee aplenty. It was going to be a long night. When they arrived, those already in the room raised their heads to greet the newcomers in the hope they might have had more luck. Colonel Carter asked them to begin their report as they exchanged notes on the information they had been able to ascertain thus far. It turned out that they had not made a great deal of progress given that they were yet to track Angela down. The only positive note was that Sam had sent out a photo of Angela to all hospitals and morgues in the region and none of them had reported her as being amongst their patients, meaning that Angela was still alive. Once they had finished their reports, every one of them went off to conduct their individual searches of the binders that Mitchell and John had brought back. Mitchell went sifting through his travel bag and spent several minutes doing so before he found what it was he was looking for: the piece of paper Angela had given him on which she had written him her contact details, the very same one he remembered from his dream. He had never even recalled before then that those details might be that near to him all along. From the start he had had the means to tracking down his old friend. How could he have forgotten that? It had simply slipped his mind entirely given everything else that had gone on recently from the Ori to the various dangerous missions he had participated in. At the end of every month, they generally wrote to one another to catch up on what had been going on in each other's lives. He then thought back to the last time they had been in contact. It had been several months since Angela had last written to him and he had started to get worried. However, the last thing she wrote dashed that feeling when she revealed that she had not been able to write because where she was there were no computers, and she regretted not being able to contact him. Apart from that there had been nothing, no explanations and precious little besides, a couple of sentences and that was it, which was odd given how longwinded and chatty she usually was in her letters. What had happened? He remembered what Sam had said about her visit to Angela's old army base. She had said that her last mission had not ended well. He studied the piece of paper without staring for too long, suddenly less comfortable than he had been. His head turned.