aurora_novarum | Just a Scientist (Reply)

Title: Just a Scientist
Category: Gen; Missing Scene; Action/Adventure; Angst/Drama; Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Daniel Jackson; Bill Lee (smaller appearances by other SGC members)
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Spoilers: Anything up to and including Season 7's Evolution Part 1-2, but especially Crystal Skull, Prodigy, Meridian, Paradise Lost, and Avenger 2.0.

Synopsis: The events of Evolution 1 & 2, from the perspective of the "other" SGC member on that ill-fated mission to Honduras.

Notes: Thanks and virtual chocolate to my beta Fabrisse, who suffered through the many drafts and the @#$#$#@ shifting verb tenses.

Warnings: Violence; Canon torture. I should also warn that Felger is in the story, but ONLY BRIEFLY, so please don't stop reading due to him. Heh.

"Get down! Fire in the hole!"

The warning makes me duck, even though I'm already protected by the bulletproof glass. Despite my protection, the echo of the automatic weapon's fire pounds at my eardrums. Finally the weapon stops firing, and the all clear is given.

I step around the protective shielding and walk up to the target. "Fire in the hole?" I question my colleagues.

Simon shrugs. "I always wanted to say that."

I shake my head as I study the target. Nothing. The black hardened subject is still smooth and unscathed. The walls surrounding it however are pockmarked and scorched from ricochets by gunfire, staff blasts and every other weapon in the armory. This new alien armor has withstood every attack.

The others come up next to me, sharing my glum expression. "No chinks in this armor so far." I report. None of us are looking forward to giving that report to General Hammond.

"What if we tried my new..."

"No!" Simon's and my voices echo through the test chamber.

"But with just a few tweaks..."

"You overloaded the entire power grid the last time you tested that thing, ruining an experiment I had been working on for six months I might add." Simon is still a little bitter about that. I sigh and back away from my two quarreling colleagues. Dr. Jay Felger and Dr. Simon Coombs have been with the program about a year less than I have. I get along pretty well with both of them. Coombs is great. Felger has a sharp mind, but he's still a little starry eyed at working at the SGC, and that tends to lead to grandiose schemes. If I hear his story about saving SG-1 one more time....Actually, he tends not to tell it when around Coombs, since the other scientist was also present and takes a great deal of pleasure in bursting Jay's exaggerations.

I try for the more conciliatory approach to end their bickering. "Do you really want to be in the forefront of Hammond's radar after Avenger?"

"That was not my fault!" Oh boy, I said the wrong thing. "Ba'al altered the virus! In fact Colonel O'Neill..." I tune Felger's voice out as Coombs rolls his eyes. We both knew from Chloe that Jay was a hair's breadth from being fired both during and after that incident. But Jay is practically giddy after working with Major Carter and being rescued by Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c. He now has a new SG-1 story that Coombs can't correct. To my dismay, a member of the team Jay hero worships has just now walked through the door. To my surprise, it's not the physicist Samantha Carter who's helping us with the project, but Dr. Daniel Jackson, one of two civilians on the team.

Jay notices him immediately. "Dr. Jackson." He practically runs the archeologist down grabbing his hand with a violent pumping handshake. "It's so great to see you OK. And dry. Very good to see you dry. We were just talking about you, weren't we guys?" He never pauses to give us any time to respond. I don't remember Daniel coming up in conversation, but like a lot of Jay's monologues, I wasn't really listening. "I'm so sorry you were stuck on that planet while the flood waters were rising, but you did hear that wasn't my fault didn't you?"

"I think Sam mentioned that," Daniel's response is cool and polite, his eyebrows raised. "Do you think I could have my hand back now?"

"Oh sure, Dr. Jackson." Jay releases his arm but keeps up the constant chatter. I exchange looks with Simon, and he nods. We've developed a routine when Jay starts babbling to the brass. Deflect and distract. Dr. Jackson technically isn't our boss, but he is the highest ranking civilian on base with the ear of the general. Plus Daniel's a friend, and I really don't want to subject him to any more of Jay's blathering than necessary.

"Jay, can you help me remove the breastplate of this thing? I want to check something with the material underneath." Simon starts steering the chattering scientist towards the armor clad dummy. Jay barely pauses in his monologue.

"What? Oh sure, Simon. Excuse me Dr. Jackson. Important..." The rest of his sentence is mercifully cut short as Simon's hold on his elbow becomes firmer, and he's yanked further across the room.

Daniel is almost successful in hiding his sigh of relief, and I suppress a chuckle.

"Is there something we can do for you, Daniel? If you were looking for Major Carter..."

"No. Actually, I was looking for you."

"Me?" I blink. "I'll be happy to help, but as you know General Hammond has made work on this Goa'uld technology top priority."

"Yes, but General Hammond reassigned you, actually us, to a special related project."

"Really? What kind of project?" It has to be something important for the general to pull me off the armor study. Wait, had Daniel said 'related'? What would I be doing with Dr. Daniel Jackson that would relate to testing this armor?

Daniel opens his mouth and shuts it twice, seemingly dismissing ways to approach me. He glances to where Coombs and Felger are struggling with the breastplate, which Jay tried to remove before extracting the helmet. Daniel raises his finger and cocks his head. "Maybe we'd better talk in my office." He turns and heads back out the door. I'm still standing in shock as he pokes his head back through the doorway. "Come on."

I glance at Coombs and Felger, the latter's back toward me. I shrug at Simon and wave a farewell, then follow Daniel into the corridor.

I'm astounded by the amount of information Daniel has scattered across his office worktable. I've been trying to keep up with his rapid fire lecture. When Daniel gets into his professor mode, he tends to recite facts and background like he's driving in Daytona. This tendency has only gotten worse post-ascension. Following his trail of thoughts and intuition takes my full concentration.

"So this ancient Goa'uld Telchak was using a device developed by the Ancients to create the sarcophagus and healing technology."

Daniel blinks at my concise assessment. "Yes."

"And you think Anubis is using similar technology to create these new warriors?"

"Well, not me specifically, but Selmak seems pretty sure."

Selmak. It takes me a second to realize he's referring to Major Carter's father. I'm still not completely used to the fact that half the time I'm talking to a contemporary of General Hammond's and the other half I'm talking to a centuries' old alien.

"I still don't understand what you need me for."

Daniel's eyes light up, but I also notice an odd expression on his face. "I think I know where it is. General Hammond has green lighted a mission for us to retrieve it."

"Oh." We? "He wants me to join SG-1 for a mission?"

Daniel's face falls and I get a full view of the unease I've seen shadowing Daniel since he walked into the test chamber. "Not SG-1. It'll just be you and me."

"What? He wants the two of us to go offworld alone?" That's not standard operating procedure and very unusual for General Hammond. He usually sends at least some military presence as protection for any offworld mission, no matter how benign. And this mission sounds anything but benign.

"No, no, no." Daniel's expression clears slightly, and I see a lopsided half-smile. "I thought I had explained that." He may have, but like I said, it's hard to keep track of everything Daniel says when he's talking that fast. "I think the device is here, on Earth."

"Oh. OH!" I've got the picture now. We're doing a planet-side field trip. That makes me feel better, but I wonder why Daniel's still got that odd expression on his face. "Where is it?" Man, I hope it's not Antarctica. I heard about the Ancient virus that affected the outpost.

"Somewhere in Central America. Here, look at these." Daniel passes me a couple of old handwritten notebooks. Their covers are labeled as the journals of Dr. Nicholas Ballard. I've heard of him. He was a promising archeologist until he came up with a crazy story about aliens in the 1970s. Huh. Kind of like Dr. Jackson. Actually, I thought I had seen a report that Ballard was now doing diplomatic work with the SGC. He must be in his eighties by now. "Selmak's still working on the translations, but with his help, I've been able to narrow down Nick's research to Honduras. Selmak will have the final translation before we leave. In the meantime, Nick's notes give some descriptions of the area in the legend where we can find the fountain of youth."

"Telchak's device is the fountain of youth?"

"Well, at least it's the likely basis of the legend. Anyhow, General Hammond will have a plane ready for us at Peterson in a few hours. You're up to date on your vaccinations, aren't you?"

"What? Yeah." Since I go offworld on occasion, I have to visit the infirmary for regular checkups and vaccinations. It's a lot easier to keep up with the SG team schedules than be subjected to tons of needles and pills while trying to prep for a mission. One guy had to be scrubbed from a mission once because he missed a booster that required a 48 hour hold before being cleared. I didn't think about needing them for an Earth mission, but I guess it makes sense. We will be traveling to another country. Anyplace but our posting uses these vaccinations for international, not interstellar travel.

"Good." Daniel is studying the notes again, tracing the old archeologist's handwriting.

"Did Dr. Ballard leave his notes here before going offworld?"

"What?" I guess Daniel's thoughts are elsewhere. "Not exactly. I've had Nick's journals for a while. I ended up with all his stuff after...well, I kept his research for him for some years before we even realized his theories on the skull were correct." Daniel drops the journal and crosses his arms across his chest. Easy to read that body language. I've touched a nerve.

I'm not sure what to say. "I didn't realize you were close to Dr. Ballard."

Daniel ducks his head, and his mouth twitches in a slight grin. "You could say that. Nick's my grandfather." He shakes his head and sighs at my discomfiture. "Sorry, I thought you knew. The way base scuttlebutt is around here."

"Yeah, I mean, no, I never heard it mentioned. I didn't realize. Oh. Umm." Open mouth, insert foot. Now what do I say? Didn't realize that alien first contact was a family trait? I decide it's best if I just change the conversation entirely. "The information here seems to show the device should be in a temple. With all the excavations, do you think it might already have been found?"

Daniel shakes his head. "I've already checked the databases, and nothing even close to resembling this device, even mislabeled, has ever shown up. Besides, the device should include the writing of the Ancients, and the SGC flags anything in archeology circles that is similar to any alien technologies we know. So we'll just have to use the notes and track it down. I hope it will be a simple mission, in and out. We need to find this device and hopefully be able to use it to discover a weakness in the warriors we can exploit."

Daniel is lost in thought, then bites his lip and looks at me closely. "Do you know anything about this part of the world?"

"Honduras? Not really."

"Well, the country is relatively stable, but there are some revolutionary factions that make trouble from time to time. I've done some research, and though it's pretty safe now since it's harvest time, there's some occasional skirmishes."

"You mean it's dangerous?" Now I know what Daniel's expression is, it's worry. "Then why aren't we getting some military backup?" I can't help the bit of a stutter I hear creep into my voice.

"Well, the Honduran government doesn't take too kindly to American military forces entering its sovereignty. Plus we need to be as low profile as possible. General Hammond feels it's best if just a small technical group goes. So, it's just you and me." He gives me a rueful smile. "Can you get the equipment together? I've got to meet up with Sam and her dad. We'll probably have to finish our briefing on the flight."

"Sure, no problem, Daniel."

Dr. Jackson does the fine art of delegating well. Of course, my embarrassment over the grandfather snafu had helped me volunteer for the job. I've forgotten what a chore it was to inventory and prep for an expedition. Nothing is simple in the military. I can't just pull our stuff, pack it and get ready. I have to fill out requisition forms, with additional forms to explain why this is not for offworld use, plus the unusual request for petty cash. Not too much call for greenbacks when going to other planets and moons. Teams don't often find offworld money exchanges. Then there's triplicate additional forms because this is an emergency. Thank goodness the supply sergeant has become used to clueless civilians and abnormal requests. She walks me through the process without too much hassle.

I'm a little early for my rendezvous with Daniel, but I'm hoping to get a closer look at Dr. Ballard's journals. I'd like to get to know as much as possible in background, so we can hit the ground running. The biggest lesson I got from Daniel's talk is that time is of the essence.
Unfortunately, I think I'm interrupting something. Daniel's already got a visitor. The alien member of SG-1, Teal'c. Neither acknowledges my presence.

"...William Lee is a knowledgeable scientist, but from what you have told me, perhaps I should ask General Hammond to accompany you as security. Since I no longer have my symbiote, it would be possible for me to..."

"Thanks Teal'c, but you know Hammond would never approve it. It's funny, if it was just me, I wouldn't mind. It's just being responsible for Bill too."

"I have no doubts in your abilities. Many times you have 'watched my back.' Considering your tendency for self-sacrifice, Daniel Jackson, perhaps it is good you are responsible for an individual less experienced in combat. It may prevent any unfortunate occurrences."

"Is that your way of telling me not to get myself killed, Teal'c?"

"I believe that is what I said, Daniel Jackson."

Great, first I bring up offworld family members, now I'm eavesdropping. It's too late for me to just back away. I've been on missions with Teal'c before. You can never sneak around a Jaffa First Prime. I clear my throat and make loud noises while entering. The universal sign of 'I know I'm interrupting, please stop talking.' "Hi Teal'c, Daniel. I think I've got everything together."

"Hey Bill."

"William Lee. I was just discussing the dangers of your mission with Daniel Jackson."

"Teal'c!" Daniel's jaw clenches as he glares at his friend.

Yep, no sense in hiding I overheard. "It's okay, Daniel. But you don't need to feel responsible for me. We're a team. We'll look out for each other." I kind of gloss over the warrior talk I heard. I think my mind is still in denial that this could be dangerous. Then I gulp as I realize Teal'c may interpret my words as some kind of blood oath to protect his friend.

Teal'c just studies us both. "I hope you are successful in your mission."

"Teal'c, Daniel." Major Samantha Carter enters Daniel's office from the other door. "I'm glad you're both here. Hi, Bill, you can help too."

"What's up, Sam?" I think Daniel's as relieved as I am for the interruption.

"I've been going over the autopsy results with Janet, and we discovered something interesting. Look at this." Major Carter proceeds to tell us her latest theory about the strange being who wore that armor I've been testing. "Unfortunately, any other results are limited by the breakdown of the tissue. It's like the creature isn't even fully formed."

"So there's nothing conclusive."

"No. I'm hoping the device you guys find will help us learn more from the tissue, but I can't be certain."

I can't help but notice Major Carter's confidence we'll be successful. Still, I don't like the implication that it might be for nothing. I'm aware of the rumor that Major Carter and I are feuding. Like Daniel said earlier, base gossip is an amazing thing. I know the origins of this rumor though.

Last year, while Daniel was, well, dead for all intents and purposes, we thought we had lost Colonel O'Neill to an alien device. I had exhausted every resource and test to figure out what happened to him, and there was nothing more I could do. Major Carter was understandably upset, and we had words about what action should or in this case, shouldn't be taken. Major Carter had lost one member of her team when Daniel ascended, and she would not be responsible for losing another. I had to convince her that everything humanly possible was done. After Colonels O'Neill and Maybourne were found, neither Major Carter nor I mentioned the incident again. Next time she worked with our lab, she was her usual self, bringing cookies she said were extra from a baking session with Cassandra Fraiser. I made sure she knew of a motorcycle show going on in Colorado Springs. It's well known Sgt. Siler helps her rebuild them. Since that time, Major Carter and I have worked on many projects together.

"Anyhow, we might not be able to learn anything until we have a living subject."

"Whoa, Sam. You're not thinking of capturing one of these things alive?"

"Well..."

"Interrogation would be an effective means of learning more about this new enemy."

"Teal'c, that thing killed a whole host of Jaffa. You and Bra'tac only survived because it had a heart attack."

"It doesn't matter anyway, Daniel. We won't be able to do anything until Bra'tac returns with intelligence about Anubis's movements." She flashes a smile at us. "You'll probably already be back with a tan by then."

Daniel scowls. "Let's hope so. I don't need to be worried about you guys."

Jacob Carter, or is it Selmak at the moment? joins our impromptu conference. "Here, Danny. I've translated the rest of the dialect. Hopefully, it'll give you everything you need." Daniel glances over the inscriptions and nods.

"This is great. Thanks, Jacob."

"Anytime. Sam, I've got to get going. I need to report back to the council with this latest information. Hopefully, we'll be able to come up with some basic defenses that we can incorporate with the device once you find it."

Wow. As if I wasn't feeling the pressure before getting the Tok'ra slant. I'm not sure if I'm anxious to get on the plane to get the mission going, or go back to my lab and forget I ever saw Dr. Jackson today.

"I'll walk you back to the gateroom. Bill, Daniel, be careful."

"We will. Stop worrying, Sam. And wait for me to get back before you start...," he waves his hands to indicate her plans.

"All right, Daniel. I'll try. Though why should you get to have all the fun?" Major Carter deflects his warnings with a laugh, but we all know the dangers and the stakes involved. I almost feel like Jay for a moment, basking in the camaraderie of the SGC's flagship unit.

"If you do not require my assistance, Daniel Jackson, I will take my leave."

"Thanks, Teal'c." The warrior bows his head in farewell. I look at Daniel.

"So, I guess it's just you and me. Umm, everything's set up and on its way to Peterson."

"Good. Hammond's already greasing the wheels to get us in quickly. I think we may even leave an hour earlier. We'll pack most of this to read on the plane. Ready?"

"No." I grin sheepishly. "But I guess I'd better be." Daniel returns my grin and we start packing the various books and notes.

We're flying in the military version of a corporate jet. I'm happy because the seats are much more comfortable than a military transport. Daniel and I have copies of his grandfather's notes and are working concurrently on different aspects. Daniel is studying the legends and language in more detail, trying to find out more about the device. Meanwhile, I'm studying topographical surveys and comparing them to the historical information to see if we can narrow down our search. Dr. Ballard's previous expeditions also help because his failures narrow our possibilities. Selmak's translations help both our efforts, and I've learned more about Mayan Goa'uld then I ever planned to in my life. Of course, I've done a lot of things and worked in several areas beyond my own specialty since I joined the SGC. I pull myself back from my wayward thoughts as some geographic features catch my full attention. Hold on a minute.

"Daniel, can you take a look at this?"

"Hmm?" Daniel's focused on his own notes and is only half paying attention to me.

"Daniel, I think I've found where it is."

"What?" Yeah, I thought that would grab his full attention. He looks over the spots I've indicated, comparing them with Selmak's translations and Dr. Ballard's own research. A waterfall and intersecting river. The nearby hills. After taking into account the geographic changes over time, all the landscape features correspond to the legend. In fact, despite the passage of time, the river, though widened, hasn't altered course as much as one would think it should based on the time passing. Daniel looks up at me with a full smile. "I think you're right." He gets up and stretches. "I'll let the pilot know, so we can get started on the arrangements for when we touch down. Good work, Bill."

I input our findings into our GPS instruments. I only hope the rest of our mission goes this smoothly.

A man in a gray suit is there to greet us at the tarmac as soon as we touchdown. "Dr. Jackson, Dr. Lee. My name is John Ramirez, I'm with the U.S. Embassy here in Honduras. I'm here to help you through customs and facilitate your stay here." He shakes hands with both of us.

Daniel immediately takes the lead. "Thank you, Mr. Ramirez. Have you been made aware of our requirements?"

"Yes. Though I admit to being a bit puzzled by them. We'll wait to discuss more once we've cleared you through the bureaucratic necessities." He guides us to a side entrance, where we go through a cursory check before proceeding to Ramirez's sedan, complete with driver. Once inside, the conversation resumes.

"I was told that you were here for an archeological survey."

"That's correct."

"The pilot radioed you would need a local guide for the area."

I nod. "Yes, and transportation to get there."

"Well, your guide will be able to help you more than I can. The terrain there is very rough. I doubt any vehicle will get you as far as you want to go." That's to be expected. If the temple was that easy to reach, it would've been discovered long ago. "However, our car will be able to get you to the nearest town. You'll meet up with Mr. Duran there."

"Mr. Duran?"

"Rogelio Duran. He's one of the best guides from my understanding." Ramirez is still looking at us carefully. "I must admit. You're not exactly what I expected."

"What did you expect, Mr. Ramirez?" Daniel's voice is guarded.

"I didn't expect you to look so much like scientists." What? I can't hide my surprise.

"You said you were informed of our mission and our needs."

"Yes. An archeology expedition," Ramirez repeats himself, but shakes his head. Then he leans forward and whispers. "I guess I didn't expect the cover story to be so precise."

"Cover story?"

"Well, come on. I'm told to expect scientists in four hours for an archeology dig to an unknown temple? And to put the full facilities of the embassy at your disposal? Everything need to know. No average scientific study makes the U.S. government jump that quick. Look, I'm cleared top secret. If you tell me your real mission, I may be able to help you more. Right now, I've followed instructions and provided a local guide, but if you need someone..."

Top Secret doesn't even begin to cover the need to know nature of our employment. What's funny is our cover story is actually the truth, a point Daniel is trying to drive home.

"A local guide is exactly what we need. Mr. Ramirez, I understand your concerns, but what you see is what you get here with us. We are archeologists on an expedition for an old Mayan settlement. I appreciate your efforts on our behalf and will be happy to note your cooperation in my report when we return home. But there's nothing more for you to know."

"There is a CIA agent based here that I could contact."

"That won't be necessary. We appreciate the use of your vehicle. When we return, we'll likely need immediate clearance to depart. If our expedition is successful, any artifacts we retrieve will need diplomatic clearance. I'm told you were to be already preparing for such eventuality."

"Well yes, the ambassador himself is handling that aspect." The car draws up to a curb. And Ramirez opens his door. "I must get back to the embassy. The driver will take you to the town. Rogelio should meet you at the cantina there. Good luck."

Daniel shakes his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Ramirez. Hopefully, we'll be back soon."

The car drops us off in a small town, though town is being generous. I see a gas station, a vegetable stand, a cantina, and a dozen houses scattered in the jungle. We're twenty miles from what I remember being a real town. The envoy's driver salutes us as he drives off. Daniel adjusts his backpack. "Let's head to the cantina."

As we approach the "cantina", which looks more like an outdoor pavilion than a proper structure, I'm beginning to have my doubts. The kitchen is a dirty guy using a rusty metal stand as a cobbled together grill, and I'm not sure what kind of meat he's cooking. I know I won't be ordering food.

"Are you sure this is the right place?"

Daniel is completely relaxed, but then he regularly eats alien cuisine. "This is where he said he'd be."

"What if he doesn't show up?" I'm already missing the embassy's air conditioned car.

"Well, we'll have a few beers, make a few friends."

Daniel is used to dealing with different cultures every day he steps through the Stargate. I'm not. I'm still nervous. We're in a foreign country, miles from anywhere, looking for an Ancient alien device that has dangerous healing properties to defeat a different alien entity. This was not in my initial job description. I'm still looking around with apprehension as I notice Daniel settling down to sit at an outdoor table in the corner of the cantina. OK. He wants to mix with the locals. I set down my stuff and sit. The red and white checkered tablecloth is surprisingly clean. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

I haven't even sat down completely before the waiter comes up and starts rattling off rapid fire Spanish to which Daniel immediately responds, presumably asking for our guide.

To my surprise, our waiter shouts to the back and then sits. "I am Rogelio, Rogelio Duran. At your service." He lowers his voice and leans towards me. "This is just my day job." After appraising us both for a moment, he turns to Daniel. "You must be Dr. Jackson."

"That's right." They shake hands as he introduces me to our guide.

I greet him in my pidgin Spanish as he shakes my hand. Then he gets down to business. "So you guys want to see some temples."

I turn to Daniel, who's looking at me. "Well, actually we want to see one temple in particular." He reaches into the top pocket of his pack and grabs our map. "Here." He indicates the location we've pinpointed from Dr. Ballard's notes.

Rogelio barely glances before his face falls. "I'm sorry to tell you this, Senor, but there are no temples there. What you want to do is go north. That's where all the good stuff is, lots of ruins." His face lights up. "My cousin has a truck. We could be there in five hours."

"Yeah, I'm sure the north is great, but we really want to go here." Daniel dismisses the guide's suggestion and points out our intended location on the map again.

"Senor, I've been to this part of the country many times There is nothing there, I promise you." He's adamant about taking us north. I look at Daniel. He's got the hardened stubborn expression I know well, the one all my department knows means 'don't cross Dr. Jackson.' He takes a deep breath and interrupts the young Honduran.

"Look, either you take us south or we'll find someone who will." Daniel picks up the map, and I'm already reaching down for my pack. I guess Rogelio has sized us up and realizes his commission is about to walk away. He immediately backs down. I sit up and glance at Daniel. He's already moving to the next stage of our negotiation.

"So you say your cousin has a truck."

"Simon. His house is just around the corner. Of course, there is the issue of filling the tank up with gas." He glances at us with an innocent look that's not fooling anyone. Again I look to Daniel for my cue. Are we really trusting our fate to this guy? He nods, so I reach in my pocket for our petty cash. I have to sort out the foreign currency, but I finally pull out a few bills for what should be reasonable gas money.

Rogelio responds by giving me the worst lost puppy look I think I've seen in my life. I can't believe this and grind my teeth. "Crazy Honduran con artist." I mutter under my breath, slapping a few more bills down.

Rogelio can't contain his glee. "Okay! Now we're talking business." He's already on his feet and motioning to us with his cash filled hand. "Let's go, gentlemen."

Daniel's already up and getting his pack while I'm still sitting there stunned. "Uh look, I need a receipt or something." I'm calling after them while trying to grab my stuff. "I gotta fill in a paper." No wonder Daniel wanted me to handle the money. This expense report is going to be a nightmare. The government likes its reports filled out in triplicate and accounting for every penny. This trip already stinks.

We abandon the truck over two miles back and are now wandering through the jungle. Despite my initial reservations, Rogelio has been a good guide, taking us as far as he can by road before our march. Our map is still accurate in that there are no roads leading to where we need to go. So we trek.

At first I'll admit to being awed by the scenery. We eventually see and hear a beautiful waterfall in the distance. The flora and fauna are a tropical paradise, but the novelty of the beauty wears off as we continue to trek through the humid, hottest part of the day. Daniel and I trade the map back and forth as we follow Rogelio's guidance through the paths. He helps us avoid one that had been destroyed by a landslide. We're approaching the waterfall, but I no longer appreciate its beauty. I'm tired, I'm hot, and we're approaching our goal. Unfortunately, there's no temple to be found. We pass Rogelio, who's been using his machete to clear our path.

"According to the map, we're in the right place. But, uh..." My voice trails off as I look at a distinct lack of any sign of Mayan civilization.

Daniel is equally puzzled. "This makes no sense." We spread out in a small break in the trees. "The legend of the fountain of youth says that all nearby waters flows toward it."

"How's that possible?" The river doesn't just stop, it keeps flowing far past us.

"Well, maybe the device has special properties or maybe it's just superstition." Daniel is in full analysis mode now. Depending on when he gets hit by inspiration, this could take a while. I've got no further inspiration to share, and I'm exhausted. I shuck off my pack, relieved to get rid of its weight. Maybe studying the map some more will give me a clue. Daniel is still thinking out loud. "Or maybe it means the water flow from that waterfall back there flows in the direction of the temple."

I'm positive our results are correct, but my eyes are telling me different. "Well it should be right here, but uh..."

Rogelio is livid and has started up his own monologue. "Nobody ever listens to me, man. I tell them there are no temples out here. What do they do? They come out here anyways. Now the North. The North has roads. We could drive to any temple we want, but instead, we're out here WALKING through this jungle."

Daniel cuts him off. "Yeah, okay, um, let's spread out, look for a...temple. In lieu of that look for a totem or marker of some kind. Anything that might tell us where to go from here."
Daniel looks at us. Both Rogelio and I are standing there, catching our breath. There's no sign of a temple or marker around, and I'm so tired of walking. I don't feel like searching; I feel like resting. There's nothing in sight. It's going to be hard to find small signs of an ancient civilization. Apparently Dr. Jackson has no sympathy for his colleague or his guide, since he orders us. "Go."

I shrug in surrender and move to study the edge of the clearing. I only take one step before the moss gives way, and I cry out and fall ten feet into a cave, or actually, an underground structure. Well, turns out the temple is right where I predicted after all. "Found it."

Daniel lowers some of my basic equipment and the battery pack for my flashlight. I throw the latter over my shoulder and pull out the light. Daniel gives Rogelio our spare radio before he hangs from the edge, lowering himself as much as possible before jumping the rest of the way down.

He studies me closely as he brushes himself off. "You ok?"

"Fine." I turn my light on and shine it down the sole passageway. "At least we were right about there being something here."

Daniel looks back up at our guide. "Listen, we're gonna go, uh...look around. Stay put." I gesture with my radio to indicate we'll stay in touch.

Rogelio grins and waves his radio back. "You got it, senor. Have fun."

Daniel pulls out his own spotlight and moves down the narrow hallway. "It's definitely early Mayan stonework."

"Oh yeah." I agree with his assessment. The haphazard wall structure and shape and size of the stones show it to be early something all right. I'll trust Daniel for the Mayan part.

We move through the many curves and angles of the passageway, which seems to get smaller with every step. It's giving me claustrophobia. Finally, I have to speak up after I dodge another abrupt change in the passageway. "Is this cramped thing getting to you? I mean, why would they make these passages so narrow?"

"Maybe they were skinny people." Daniel doesn't seem bothered, but then he grew up scrambling through narrow Egyptian pyramid chambers.

"Ow." Now I'm climbing a small stairwell to a landing, but the ceiling doesn't rise with the passage. "And the roof too. Ow! My head. God!"

"Skinny, short people." I think Daniel is laughing at me. I sigh. Considering Daniel is taller than me, maybe I should stop complaining.

Aha! We enter a massive chamber. The bricks of this chamber remain flush to the wall. The ceiling is about twelve feet high and is also covered with the flat square stones, as is the floor. There's nothing around. No clues. No writings. Nothing.

"It's a dead end. There's no other passageway. Nothing on the walls or ceiling." Daniel stands in front of me at the center of the chamber. "No glyphs, no seals, no ancient script. Not even a pictograph."

"Isn't there always writing?" Daniel's head slightly turns, then he spins to face me and blasts me with his flashlight. I can't see his expression through my sudden blindness. Our quest can't end with an empty smooth chamber, can it? There's got to be some clue. I keep babbling through Daniel's glare, which I suspect is not limited to his flashlight. "You know, I mean, somewhere there's bound to be." I turn my head to look around and avoid that harsh glare. "Maybe not." I let my voice trail off and start looking at the seams in the wall for more clues.

I'm about half way across my study of the far wall as Daniel is tackling the opposite one. Suddenly, a tinny voice sounds from the radio. "Dr. Jackson. Dr. Lee." I stand up straight and reach for my radio, but Daniel is already responding.

"Yeah, we're here. We found a chamber." I go back to my study of the seams. "We're going to be a while."

Rogelio's response distracts me again. "Take your time, senors."

Daniel turns to me, resigned. "Well, we're paying him by the hour."

I shake my head. What more can I say about our overpriced guide? As I turn back to my tedious task, I can't help but share my frustration once again. "I don't understand. How are we supposed to find this thing if there is no writing?"

Daniel pauses. He's thinking out loud again. "All water flows towards it."

"So?" Where is he going with this?

"Give me your canteen." I pull it off my shoulder as he hands me his spotlight. "Here. Hold this." I shine both lights in front of me to give the widest coverage to the chamber. Daniel is meanwhile dumping the contents of my canteen onto the floor.

"What good's that going to do?"

The water is splattering across the floor, but along its seams, it all seems to track to one point and disappear. Daniel and I exchange glances and move to where the water has disappeared. Daniel puts his ear to the stone floor and listens. "There's something under here."

I grin in relief and shock. Only Dr. Daniel Jackson. "You're good."

I'm starting to know the turns of the passageway after the second trip back to the chamber. Rogelio has scavenged our packs for requested items and lowers them to us. Wedges, crowbars, trowels, a freestanding lamp and other assorted archeological equipment are now scattered through the chamber.

The hollow stone in the floor fits tightly between the other tiles. We've worked hard to lift it enough to even force the wooden wedges in. Finally I think we've got it far enough to pull free. Daniel's holding the side crowbar as I work the widest section upwards. Both Daniel and I stop working with the thin metal crowbars and use the wooden wedges to push it up and back. A few more taps by the crowbar, and we're able to grab underneath the block by hand and force the thick and heavy stone back so that it sits on its side, stable, at least for the moment.
Underneath is a small dark cube set on a small flat stone similar in material to floor and wall blocks. The cube has layers growing infinitely smaller. The outside edges are decorated in smaller blocks with the familiar chicken scratch of the Ancient writing.

Finally, directions. "At least it has writing on it." I turn to the foremost expert on the Ancient language. "What's it say?"

"I have no idea."

"Oh." I can't help but hide my disappointment. Oh well, at least the hard part of the quest is over. I reach in to pull it out, but Daniel grabs my arms.

"Careful!" I lean back and look at him in surprise.

"It's the root technology of a sarcophagus, which by itself causes madness and addiction. This is supposedly something far more powerful, so accidentally activating it could be bad."

Daniel giving a warning like that is something to take very seriously. I lean back on my haunches. "Okay." I'll let him take the lead then.

"Let's just try picking it up without touching it too much."

Right. Okay, that's going to be fun to try. Between the two of us, we maneuver our fingers to carefully lift the heavy object out of its centuries old nest. As we lift it clear of the floor, I can't help but sigh in relief.

We're still holding the device by our fingertips as the floor block for some reason falls back down with a heavy thunk, sealing the hidden chamber. A rumbling sound echoes through the chamber right after it falls. A very ominous rumbling sound. I look at Daniel, and I'm sure the apprehension is in my eyes because I can see it mirrored in his. The rumbling is turning into a shaking all around us. I look up as dust from the ceiling starts to fall.

"I think running would be a good idea right about now."

Before I can either fully grab or release the device, powerful waves of water are forcing me down, washing me into the passage. I'm able to grab Daniel's arm, so I know wherever I'm headed, he's coming with me. More water is pouring in from all directions, and we'll both drown if we don't get the hell out of here.

Daniel's a strong swimmer, and I can feel him brush past me with strong strokes. He reaches back to me, but I push past his grasp and swim out on my own. I notice he's somehow kept his hold on the alien device. I have to admit, swimming the narrow passages is easier than walking them, and our multiple trips back and forth have made me familiar with its twists and turns. If I was able to breathe, I'd be doing great. This current is difficult and my stupid asthma is acting up, so I accidentally swallow some water. Actually, I take it back. The current is now torturous, and it's ramming my body on the walls and ceiling. Despite this, I fight to make headway to the entrance and air. I keep my eyes open, and see Daniel turning back for me. I shake my head and point forward. I'm right behind him. We've got to get out of here. I see light in the distance. Thank God, we're almost there.

My lungs are bursting as I break the surface. Daniel is already being helped onto the ground by Rogelio. I've got a good grip to heave myself up before Daniel can reach down to help me. I cough and sputter at the water in my lungs. I can't believe we're both alive, AND we have the device. I think I'm a second hand beneficiary of Dr. Jackson's infamous nine lives.

"I think I figured out now why those passages are so narrow. It's to prevent people from escaping alive." I'm proud of my Indiana Jones like deduction.

"You're good." I smile at Daniel's joking echo of my earlier comment. We're both still gasping for oxygen.

"What have you found?" Rogelio is holding the cube artifact. As I glance up at him, I see the group of armed men behind him. I'm only half a step behind Daniel in raising my hands and getting to my feet.

"I'm not going to rob you, Senors." Rogelio is oblivious to the danger, so I try and point them out with my chin. He turns, and I hear his voice mutter something in Spanish. I don't catch the words, but I think I agree with the sentiment.

Half the group is aiming their guns at us while the other strips us of our remaining possessions. The sopping wet cash I've been carrying is pocketed, as well as our watches. I'm surprised they don't bother with our GPS devices or packs, but they must not want anything that would slow them down or track them. They've even stripped Daniel and I of our outer shirts. Considering they're still soaked from our unintentional swim, I can't say that I miss them at the moment. The leader is playing with the device. I look to Daniel, mouth already open to give a warning. He glares at me with ice blue eyes and barely moves his head. I clamp my mouth shut. Next thing I know, my hands are being clasped together by a big brute with a red bandanna around his arm. Actually all of them are wearing red somewhere on their bodies. It must mean something, but I'm clueless as to what. My wrists are tied with plastic bindings, as are Daniel's and Rogelio's. These guys seem like they've done this before. I'm guessing they're the revolutionaries Daniel was worried about. Daniel and I exchange glances. I can tell Daniel's trying to reassure me, but the tenseness of his body belies the calm in his face. It's the last thing I see before black cloth covers my eyes.

We're walking in a slow procession through the jungle. The blindfold and plastic ties digging into my bound wrists hamper my movements. I'm following someone, my fists on his back are my only guide as to where to step. I feel someone's hands on my own back; they're also bound, so it must be either Daniel or Rogelio.

I guess it's Rogelio directly behind me because I can hear Daniel speaking from further back. He's trying to convince our captors to let us go. Rogelio pleads with Daniel not to talk. I don't know whether silence or talking is smarter, though I'm thinking anything is better than being led like lambs to slaughter. If Daniel can do something about it, great. All my focus is on putting one foot in front of the other.

Ouch! I don't seem to be succeeding in that task at all. My foot falters on a stone in the path and down I fall into dirt and grass. Our little caravan stops, and I hear a weapon's metal moving near my head. Panicking, I raise my hands in supplication. "I tripped! I'm sorry! Geesh, I can't see anything!" I'm angry, frustrated, and scared out of my mind. Please don't kill me, I silently add. Strong, rough hands grasp my bound wrists, and I stop moving.

Now I hear the sounds of other movements, behind me and off to the side. The man who was speaking to Daniel speaks once. "Chalo." Then the sharp staccato of bullets makes me duck and cringe. I hear a strangled cry in the distance. Who was shot? Was it Daniel? Is he hurt, is he… I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.

"What just happened?" I hear Daniel's low voice nearby, and I let out the breath I was holding. He's ok. He's talking, and if he's asking what happened, he wasn't shot. Not me and not him, that leaves...

"Your guide. He tried to run. What can you do?" Poor Rogelio. You certainly don't deserve this fate. I'm pulled to my feet and hear the leader telling us to stay on the path. Bound hands once again press at my back, and I suppress a shudder at the realization that it's now Daniel, not Rogelio, directly behind me. Our little procession resumes its slow trek through the jungle.

I squint my eyes as they tear the blindfold off me, stumbling in the daylight. Daniel is beside me, pulling the remains of his own blindfold away from his throat. We are in a small encampment, a fire burning in the center with ramshackle huts all around. It looks like the shelters were put together with whatever material they had nearby, including what appears to be an old helicopter.

The tour of the encampment is short as our captors shove us both into the tiniest hut of the camp. I stumble and fall, narrowly avoiding Daniel's sprawled form. I hurry to sit up; Daniel is still half lying on his side. Even in his prone position, he keeps talking, trying to negotiate our way out of this mess. I have confidence in his abilities. My lab is filled with alien "gadgets and doodads" as Colonel O'Neill calls them, given or borrowed from sometimes hostile cultures who were swayed by Dr. Jackson's persuasive tongue. This time, however, the leader of the kidnappers isn't buying. I can't say I blame him, being told we aren't worth anything isn't exactly the best incentive to release us. However, I really don't like the guy's counter offer. "If no one pays, you both die."

The wooden door squeaks shut, and Daniel and I are alone. I swallow and look over at my colleague, who is still squinting at the door. I'm sure he's missing his glasses as much as I am. We both lost those in our swim through the temple. I can almost hear the gears in his head turning. I hope he comes up with some good ideas, because I am officially way out of my league.

Sometime during the night, the intermittent coughing spells that have plagued me ever since we escaped the water trap finally settle down, though I can still hear a faint rattle in my lungs when I breathe. I hope Daniel didn't notice, but I can tell the way he looks at me in the moonlight, he heard. I don't need my glasses to see he's worried. I remember the concerns he voiced back at the SGC, and his worst case scenario has now come to pass. I know he feels responsible for losing Rogelio, even though it wasn't his fault. Right now he's probably running through a dozen plans for getting us out of here. Daniel's a civilian like me, but his years of experience with SG-1 have given him more combat experience than most of the military on base. I agree with Teal'c's assessment of my companion's abilities. I trust him with my life. Those little prisoner interrogation seminars they give all civilians who go offworld suddenly seem so much more relevant now. Ironic I have to use those techniques on Earth. Boy, I wish I had paid more attention.

Morning comes, and the door made of mismatched boards swings open. A cup half-filled with muddy water is set on the tiny mat near a couple of the numerous bugs that irritated us in our restless sleep. They also set a small stool down near the door. I don't think they're furnishing the hut for our benefit. Sure enough, the leader is silhouetted in the doorway. "I know it's not much, but we do what we can." One of the thugs hands him a knife, and he swaggers with a sure step towards me.

I tremble, but can't seem to get my legs under me. My bound arms feel useless held in front of me as I try to get the stiffened limbs to move. Before I know what's happening, the leader cuts the plastic bindings off, and I stare in shock and relief at my freed hands. I gasp and try to rub feeling back in the numbed appendages.

Daniel is also now freed, but reacts with aplomb. Of course, he's been through the whole captured thing before. I wonder if he knows about the SGC pool on when the next time SG-1 will be captured or wounded. I'm ashamed to admit I've put money into it, though it always seems a waste since Sgt. Siler wins most of the time. I vow never to enter that betting pot again.

"So...here's my proposal for you. I will ask questions. You give me answers. I believe you, you get food, water, maybe even a blanket at night. Okay?" I swallow again, though my mouth is dry. He knows how cold last night was. He probably heard my stifled coughs. I let Daniel do the talking. That's why they pay him the big bucks, right? Plus, I don't think my dry mouth could utter a word at this point. I just try to maintain a poker face, silent support for my friend.

"I told you, we're archeologists. We're..."

The leader cuts Daniel off. "Maybe I was not so clear. If I don't believe you, things get worse for you. Much worse." Yeah, not liking that mental image, guy. I can't hold my gaze on the man who's still fingering that very sharp knife.

Daniel, however, is still plugging away. "You kill us, you get nothing." Good point, Dr. Jackson. See, rebel leader? You need to keep us alive.

"Maybe I kill one of you to get your government's attention." He's looking directly at me, and I don't like that one bit. I can't help it, I start and try swallowing again, but my mouth is so dry, nothing happens when I constrict my throat. He's still talking, but my thoughts are racing. I notice he mentioned "our government." He just means because we're Americans, right? I think back to our arrival. Two scientists suddenly dropping into the Honduran jungles in a diplomatic car on an urgent archeology expedition to uncharted ruins. I'm sure that didn't raise any red flags to the locals. Plus, I was so inconspicuous flashing the cash and arguing over receipts with poor Rogelio for my expense report. Damn. He knows who we work for already. We are in deep shit.

Daniel's mind is working faster than mine, because he's already processed this and is changing tactics. "Okay, you uh, you listen to me. What you're doing now is a big mistake. You see people, very powerful people are going to come for us. And uh, well, let's just say by letting us go now, you'll be saving yourself a lot of trouble.

"OK." Despite myself, I can't help but hope at the rebel's response. Maybe Dr. Jackson has worked one of his miracles, and we'll now be released. Personally, I thought Daniel's threat was weak, but maybe these guys could be intimidated by American military might. I knew that hope was too good to be true when the leader continues, "we'll do it the hard way." The guy gets up and leaves, then stops again at the doorway.

"Understand this, I will not hesitate to kill you both. Make an example of you for your government, so that next time, they will take us seriously. You should know, many prisoners talk as you do." His voice takes on a whining, petulant tone, "'My friends will come and save me.' It gives them hope." He spits out that last and the door to our small prison shuts. I try and wet my dry mouth and turn to Daniel. I don't like that he looks worried too.

The next day, the group visits us again. Daniel's figured out by listening to our guards outside that the leader's name is Rafael. I can think of a lot of other names I'd like to call him. No food or even water comes today, just the stool. Wait, they are bringing something in...it's that damn artifact for which we've been risking our lives. I should be in my lab by now, figuring the stupid thing out as a way to save ourselves from Anubis and his Goa'uld army. But no, I'm fighting pneumonia in the middle of a jungle playing hostage to Rafael and his revolutionary delusions of grandeur. It's days like this I wish I'd never heard of the SGC.

"OK, archeologists," Rafael spits, "what does your government want with this?"

Daniel doesn't speak at all today. I'm taking my cues from him. If the linguist doesn't speak, I'm not jumping into the conversation.

"You almost drowned for this. What is it?"

I hope my stony stare looks intimidating. It's really due to my myopia and hunger.

"So neither of you want to talk? That's okay, I didn't take you for your box. I took you for the ransom. Problem is, your government is not paying the ransom. I deliver your passports to your embassy along with our demands, but I get no response yet. Perhaps I should do something to get their attention." I'm trying to stay calm and maintain a blank expression. Daniel gave me a little refresher course last night in how to react to captors, or rather don't react. Somehow, the lecture last night is a lot harder to follow in the light of day, especially when Rafael and that way too big knife is coming more and more into focus as he approaches me.

"Perhaps I should send them something to show our resolve. Like a finger, or maybe the whole hand?" His eyes are on Daniel, but his hands are on me, and I can feel the cold blade all too close to my skin. I can't prevent the shivering of my body, but I grit my teeth and remain focused. The few seconds that seem to last for eternity come to an end, and Rafael turns and walks away from us.

At the door, he looks at us again. His eyebrows constrict, and he gives a brief nod. By saying nothing, we seem to have confirmed something. I don't know what it is, but at the moment I don't care. I'm counting both hands and all ten fingers with relief. They shut the door, and we're alone in our prison again.

I can't prevent my frantic gestures to keep touching my hands and fingers, glorying in the fact that everything I was born with is still attached to my body. I feel Daniel's touch on my arm. "You did good, Bill," his words soothe, but I can hear the crack in his voice and know he feels just as scared and helpless as I do. Aren't the marines coming soon?

Dawn of day three comes and goes with no visit from Rafael. My lungs still seem to have a bit of water rattling around in them, which is not helping my asthma at all. On the upside, I think I'm hiding my discomfort from Daniel better. He's got enough to worry about. Even before we were captured, I knew he was worried about SG-1. Last we knew, Sam was coming up with a plan to capture one of these new indestructible Anubis monsters alive. He was already worried about them, and I know he feels responsible for me. I keep replaying those conversations back at the SGC, and how we were doing this mission with no military backup. We needed to be low profile and fast. I really wish high profile was our plan, with lots of American forces. Even just Teal'c. One Jaffa with a staff weapon. I'm not greedy. I just want to go home.

Eventually, the door squeaks open. No stool this time, just a couple of the thugs and their guns. Is this the end? No ransom paid so they're just going to kill us? I feel Daniel's body brace beside me and start to rise. I copy his movements, but the muzzle of a gun keeps me seated. Guess they wanted Daniel up, because thug two is motioning for him to step out of our little shack, speaking in Spanish. I can tell Daniel's muscles are as stiff and sore as mine, because he is not moving too fast. Unfortunately, this is pissing off the thugs, and they shove him out the door. I don't know if I should be frightened or relieved they only took one of us. Does this mean they want us both alive? I hope I see Daniel soon, and I hope he still has all his fingers and toes.

Some hours have passed now. I've stationed myself in a corner of our hut, squinting through the slats to watch the compound. I know the shack where they've taken Daniel. I've heard his screams, much to my chagrin. There's nothing I can do to help, and I curse in frustration. I don't know what they're doing, but it sounds horrible. Wait, is that movement? Yes, figures are exiting the shack. Two, no three figures. Oh God, they're dragging Daniel across the compound. He looks barely conscious. I can't stand to see this. His hands are fisted, so I can't count fingers, but I'm not seeing blood, so hopefully he's still got all his appendages. With no blood, what did they do to him to make him scream like that? I crouch by the door, lost in thought as it's opened.

They toss him onto the mat of our small hut, and I reach out to help him. Before I can do anything, strong hands are pulling me to my feet and shoving me out of the hut, across the compound to the place where Daniel suffered his torture. I struggle, but let's face it, I'm not a fighter when I'm in top shape, and especially not when I'm weakened by days without food or water. All I can do is feebly protest I don't know anything, but I'm still being herded to that dreaded torture shack. Daniel is younger and fitter than I am, and unfortunately has previous experience in practicing torture resistance first-hand. If he's in that bad a shape, what's going to happen to me?

I stumble into the hut, still blinking at the change in light. They force me into a chair. There's a strange smell in the air that my brain can't process. Rafael is leaning against a table, fiddling with the Telchak device and sucking on some kind of fruit. Sustenance so close to me is already making my mouth water. Pavlovian response. I grit my teeth.

"So, Mr. Scientist. I'm a reasonable man. Your friend, he is not so reasonable. I want to give you food, water, but he refuses to tell me what I want to know. Are you an unreasonable man?"

"I...no...I don't know anything." My words are whispered. Rafael's calm manner confuses me.

"Your friend said you were scientists on the internet. Maybe you are soldiers or spies, finding new weapons to keep us from our rights."

"No. He was telling you the truth. Do I look like a soldier? I'm just a scientist."

"Just a scientist. Scientists know stuff, don't they? You need to be smart to be a scientist. If you are not a soldier helping our enemy, then you are a thief, stealing our heritage." He slams the cube down on the table, making me wince.

I don't know what to say now. He won't listen to denials. I can't tell him the truth. I just sit there. My brain has finally figured out the smell that's assaulted me since I sat down, the acrid and bitter scent of burnt flesh. We've suffered soldering accidents enough I should recognize it. Daniel, what did they do to you? What are they going to do to me?

I'm starting to think Rafael is a mind reader, because he motions to his buddy Chalo, the guy who killed our guide. I see the jumper cables. Chalo tests the connections on a car battery with copper wire wrapped...stop analyzing the torture device, Bill. Knowing how it works won't make it hurt any less. "You are just as unreasonable as your friend, gringo."

They strap me to the chair by my arms and legs. Then the jumper cables are attached. When the current flows, I feel the shock and then the numbness. It's like they've lit every nerve ending on fire. They're not satisfied with leaving the cables in one spot on my body. What did the instructor in the seminar say? Try to find a spot outside the pain. Detach yourself. Yeah, that's all well and good in a brightly lit classroom. Practical application to the theory is another thing altogether. I'm picturing the calm instructor of my seminar getting hit by lightning over and over. See how you feel, buddy. Detach that. Huh, that mental picture seems to be working, because I'm no longer paying much attention to the piercing pain, nor registering Rafael's questions anymore. Actually, everything is starting to gray out...

I'm jerked to sudden awareness from a blow that knocks me back, chair and all. I always thought "seeing stars" was just an expression, but I'm definitely seeing small specks of light dancing before my eyes. I wish I could reach up to see if my head is cracked open, but my hands are still tied fast to the chair. I don't feel any blood. I'm conscious now, though I really wish I weren't. I see Rafael in my blurred vision. He must have struck me with the butt end of the rifle he's holding, because I don't see the sledge hammer I expected. How many times has he forced me back into consciousness from blissful blackness? Two? Three? I think some time must have passed. Even from my spot on the floor, I can see the sunlight has shifted dramatically, and the shadows look much longer on the walls.

"You are a spy."

"No."

"You arrived in a government car. You are a spy."

"I'm a scientist."

Rafael motions to the other rebels, and they set my chair upright again. They also move to reattach the cables where they got torn off in my fall. "I'm not a spy. Please. I don't know anything." I hate the begging tone now in my voice, but I don't think I can face the pain again.

"Who do you work for?"

There's no way I'm telling him I work for the military. I don't think he'd get the nuance of a civilian scientist on an archeology expedition for the American military. Unfortunately, my silence has consequences.

"Ack! I'm not a spy."

"So your friend said. But I do not believe you, compadre. I can kill you or him, but I will find out what I need to know."

"I can't help you. I don't know any...Ahh!" The pain lasts longer than ever before. Between that and the throb of my head, I can barely breathe, let alone speak.

"Who do you work for?"

"The air force." I whisper the words. Maybe if I speak them low enough, it won't be the betrayal it feels like. It doesn't matter. He heard.

"The American military?" Rafael studies me. I can see the skepticism. "You said you weren't a soldier."

"I'm not." The pain has turned to a dull throb, which is not as biting, but very wearying. I'm finding it more and more difficult to breathe. "I'm a civilian consultant. We both are. We've been telling you the truth. We're just scientists."

"Who have come to steal our artifacts."

"It's not like that." I guess technically it is, but the full situation is way too difficult to explain to my captors, even if I wanted to. I guess I'm failing Interrogation 101. Maybe he'll think we're too much trouble and kill us now. I'm not sure if I'm scared or relieved by that thought. If I'm dead, the pain should go away, right? My torturer with the rubber gloves is getting itchy to attach the cables to new spots. I've got to start talking again. "We have permission to be here. We came to study the old temples."

"Permission from an illegal government means nothing. You suddenly appear to study an unknown temple. So now we come back to my first question. What is this?"

I feel like I'm in an Abbott and Costello routine, except this one is not funny. "An..."

"Artifact." Rafael joins me as a chorus to my response. He signals Chalo and the dull throb becomes a fiery stab that makes my body jerk once again.

"What. Is. This?"

"It's an artifact. Just an old artifact. It's not worth anything to you." I know as soon as the words leave my mouth I've made a tactical error.

"To me? Who are you to say what is of value to me?" The slap to my face is so hard, it knocks me over, chair and all. One of the cables tears off my body with the impact.

"You think I am some simple peasant? You think our cause is of no worth?"

"No." My voice is a mere whisper.

"Why is this of such value to you?"

I stay silent, not trusting my tongue. He kicks me while I'm still on the ground, and I feel the pain vibrating through my ribs. I start coughing uncontrollably. Next thing I know, my chair is upright again. My hacking coughs soon still. Rafael is mere inches from my face.

"Every time I ask to know more about this box, you and your friend stay silent. You tell me it is not worth anything, but you will not tell me more. You work for the great American government, and they send you for a worthless trinket? If this is not worth anything, why do you and your friend suffer for it? Why is it more valuable than your health, your lives? What kind of history is in this old artifact that you protect it so?"

I don't answer and face the current once again. Before I pass out this time, Rafael signals, and the current stops its flow. Every hair on my body is still standing on end. I can barely catch my breath. My brain and body are solely focused on getting oxygen in my lungs, and that is a losing battle.

Rafael has lifted my chin and is holding it there. The position is helping me breathe, but it also means I have to keep looking at my torturer. "Tell me about the object, and the pain will stop, amigo." His voice is soft and calm. I know I shouldn't believe him, my mind is screaming to stay silent, but my oxygen starved body can no longer hear its call.

"Telchak."

"Who is Telchak?"

I try to backpedal, feebly trying to shake my head loose from the rebel leader's grasp. He releases me on his own, and my head immediately drops to my chest. My breath comes in frantic wheezes and a small jolt courses through my body. I hiccup and start to cough. The current is cut off before I can fully register the pain. Again my head is lifted by Rafael's hand.

"Telchak?"

I sob. I'm sure I would be crying if I had any water left in my body. "The device. It's Telchak's."

"Where is he?"

What kind of question is that? I shake my head in confusion. Rafael breaks his hold again, and I stutter to say something before the current flows again. "Dead. Gone. I don't know. He existed long ago. A Mayan god. The artifact hasn't been seen for centuries, millenia even."

Rafael turns and picks up the cube from the table. He weighs it in his hands and looks at my broken body. "Why are Americans suddenly so interested in an old artifact?"

"We just figured out where it could be." I'm barely able to keep my head upright on my own. Maybe I've given him enough. I really need to get away from here.

"So you come to our country in your diplomatic car because you're government scientists who just figured out where it could be." Rafael practically spits in my face. He slams the cube back down. "You Americans think you can just take what you want. And I know you want this for something. Stop taking me for a fool!"

I scream again as the current flows through me, but the scream is hoarse. Maybe I should just keep screaming. If I have no voice, I can't answer his questions. Unfortunately, I can't control my breathing enough to maintain the scream. Every muscle in my body aches, and I don't know if it's from the current or the wracking coughs.

Did I pass out again? Gee, that's getting old. Water is flowing down my throat, and I open eyes I don't even realize I closed. Rafael is slowly pouring water from a cup past my lips. I gulp greedily at the moisture, but he's giving it to me in small enough dosage I won't bring it back up. I know he's just doing it to keep me talking, but I don't care. I desire that water more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. He pulls the cup away, and my lips try and follow it. "You will tell me, or your friend will tell me. It makes no difference to me." I can't go through this again. I can't let Daniel go through this again.

"Why are you interested in Telchak's box?"

I can't answer him. I won't answer him. He's holding the cup just out of reach, and his finger is raised in a familiar gesture. I know if he drops his hand, I'll feel the pain of the current. Reward or punishment, right? I can't think anymore. What should I do? I can't betray Daniel anymore, but I can't resist. I've already told Rafael too much. But I need the water. The water, like the fountain, the fountain of youth. I mumble under my breath.

Rafael grasps my chin. The water is so close to me, I can smell it, even above the acrid odor of my own torture. "What did you say?"

"The fountain of youth. We think it might be the origin of the fountain of youth."

My water is forgotten. I think I'm forgotten as Rafael rises and picks up the device again. "The fountain of youth? How?"

"I don't know." He starts looking to the one controlling the battery, and I sob louder. "I don't know! Please. Please. I don't know."

He feeds me more water. Just enough to wet my tongue, not enough to assuage my thirst. I don't think Niagra Falls could quench my thirst at this point. He's looking at the markings, tracing them with his finger.

"What are these?"

"What?" I hear my voice crack and cringe at Rafael's sharp look. He knows I'm stalling, and I avert my eyes.

The device is now in front of my face. "What are these marks? What do they mean?"

I shake my head and begin to cough. "I don't...I don't know," I choke out. As he signals Chalo, I cry out desperately. "I don't know." I feel like I'm on a recording. I still get shocked, which causes me to hiccup my breath again. I can't get it back. One of the rebels thumps me on the back, but it doesn't help. I get a bit more water, which only seems to feed the cough. I spit up all over one of the thugs. Rafael moves out of range.

"The symbols."

"The language is ancient. I don't know what it says." I tell the truth and lie in the same breath. The language is Ancient, but Rafael would not know what that means. The now hysterical side of my brain toys with that idea. Maybe the rebels would think I was nuts and stop torturing me if I told them about the Goa'uld.

"You go to all this trouble to find it, and you don't know what it says? I find that hard to believe."

"It's not b-n seen f-r th--nds of ye--rs." I can barely get the words out between my choked coughs. Rafael waits impatiently until my breathing steadies to a constant wheeze.

"You must have some idea. You must know what the symbols mean."

I shake my head. "I can't read it. I don't know."

"If you don't know..." Rafael looks past me towards the hut where Daniel's held.

"No." My denial is too quick. Daniel can't go through this again.

"I do not believe you. I think you protect your friend."

"We were just the retrieval team," I bluster.

"I think your friend knows. I think he will tell me. He will help me make it work."

"He won't. He doesn't...We won't help you."

"You tell me things to save him. He tells me things to save you. It's all the same. I will find out."

"I won't help you. You don't know what you're asking." Daniel's warning just before we set off the booby trap is screaming in my mind as Rafael carelessly handles the device.

"I know what I'm asking. I'm asking for information that will help us regain our heritage. You are a smart man. You can figure out the artifact, and you WILL help me."

"No." The shock shatters my nerves again. I feel it even through my tooth fillings. When the current finally subsides, I glare at Rafael. "I won't help you. It's too dangerous."

Rafael seems puzzled and annoyed at my newfound resolve. "Dangerous? According to you it's a box from a long dead god. I do not see a danger," he spits.

I feel like telling him about the aliens again. Then I'm inspired. "It's cursed."

"Cursed?"

"The legends we read said that could steal a person's soul." Okay, I'm extrapolating from the legends, but I'm still well aware of Daniel's warnings of "madness and addiction." Rafael's got to stop fooling with this device. Even if I'm killed, he can't know anything more. It's too dangerous.

The reaction to my words is immediate. Chalo drops the controls to my torture and steps away from Rafael, making the sign of the cross. I see the other rebels move a little further back out of my peripheral vision. Rafael sets the cube back down on the table. "You are a scientist. You do not believe in superstition."

I've seen fireflies burn through a human body in an instant. I've traveled through wormholes to other planets. I've conducted missing person searches by studying alien transporter technology. All things thought fiction and superstition by most modern scientists. "You'd be surprised what I believe." Rafael raises his hand to strike me. I can't help my flinch, but I meet his gaze. He can't turn on the device. He drops his hand, then nods to his thugs.

A cold sharpness is felt at my wrists, then I'm released from my bonds. My feet are freed from the chair legs. The torture has taken its toll, and I have no control over my body as I slide off the chair and collapse onto the dirt floor. Whatever reserves of strength I channeled in my last attempt at defiance seem to have quickly drained. All I feel now is pain, cramps, throbs and soreness at every point of my body. Before I know it, I'm grabbed and dragged face up out of the hut and across the compound.

I'm still stunned from the blow to my head and the numbness of every nerve ending as I'm dragged back to our prison hut. At least Daniel was able to somewhat hold himself up. I'm flat on my back being dragged by my arms until they dump me on the thin mat that's served as blanket and floor covering the past three days. I can't believe I'm relieved to feel that damn coarse mat against my body, but it means my frayed nerve endings are finally getting a reprieve from the electrical shock.

My relief is short lived. I open my eyes and see Daniel hovering over me. He still looks worse for wear, but despite that I see the concern he has for me. Daniel, you don't know what I've done.

I have to tell him, but I can't. "I never thought I would die like this," I croak.

"Well, you're not dead yet." Is that supposed to be a comfort? I'd rather be dead then tell him what I have to confess. I betrayed him. He never broke, but I did. How can I tell him he suffered for nothing? But he's using his bandanna to wipe my face, and these small ministrations to my injuries are a new torture I can't stand.

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I couldn't take it. I told them." I see his eyes widen. He knows, but still doesn't want to believe.

"What? What'd you tell them?" I can see him still clinging to the desperate hope. I hate having to destroy it.

"Everything." I whisper, and close my eyes to his disappointment. I can't close my ears to block out his sigh of despair. I'm so sorry, Daniel.

I think I passed out again. Daniel is shaking me and calling my name from what seems far away. I open my eyes to see he's hovering over me. "Bill, you've got to tell me exactly what Rafael knows. I don't know how much time we have before they come back for me."

I sigh. My confession isn't enough. My penance is to completely relive my betrayal. "Everything Daniel. Telchak. The Mayans. The ancient language." Oh. I have to warn him. He's right. He needs to be prepared. I blink and focus my attention on my friend. "I told him the language was ancient. I told him I didn't know how to translate it. I wouldn't tell him anything else..." my voice chokes off. This is so hard.

Daniel's already skipped to the end. "He figures I know about it."

"I'm sorry." I feel like a broken record. Those words sound so trite and can't waylay the depths of my guilt. "I tried to distract him, deny him."

"I know, Bill." Daniel's hand on my shoulder is gentle. "It's OK. I don't blame you."

You don't need to Daniel, I already blame myself. He must read my thoughts. "Don't blame yourself. I know what you went through."

"You didn't break." I counter, then I blurt out the whole play by play. I don't know if I just want to punish myself by reliving it or not. Actually I find it cathartic to tell Daniel exactly what happened. He stays silent and just nods while I talk, processing the whole story. It's evening by the time I finish, and we both relax. Rafael's been leaving us alone at night.

"You told him what you needed to for us both to survive. You didn't tell him how to work the device. I can still work with this when they come for me again." I wince at the reminder that I didn't even save him from another session with Rafael. "We just need to delay until rescue comes." I don't know if he's trying to convince me or himself at this point.

"I still shouldn't have told him anything."

"It's OK, Bill. Quit beating yourself up about it." He sighs. "You know the worst interrogation session I went through wasn't even at the hands of a Goa'uld."

"What?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong. Goa'uld can be very inventive in their torture, and if I never see a ribbon device again, it'll be too soon. But the worst time was when we were on the planet where I met Nyan."

"Nyan, your research assistant?" I didn't realize he was an alien, though the name should have given me a clue.

Daniel nods. "His world had two continents waging a religious war over their creation. One group believed aliens transported them there through the Stargate. Nyan's people believed the long gone Goa'uld was a god who created them on their world. The military for Nyan's people captured us and wouldn't believe we came from another planet. We had to be 'Optrican spies'." I don't think I've ever heard Daniel's voice as bitter as it sounds now.

"Anyway, Teal'c had escaped capture. So their leader kept interrogating Sam, Jack and me for information and confessions that we were really from this other continent. When they found a soldier Teal'c killed, he got really mad. I didn't even think those sticks could have a higher setting." He gives a rueful chuckle. "The feeling's surprisingly similar to Rafael's little invention, but more concentrated." I shudder at the thought. "That didn't work, so they decided to try a new tactic. He told me what he was going to do even before he led Sam and Jack in and put them in their cages. Luckily, Sam slumped forward unconscious when the zat hit her. When Jack got hit, he slumped back.

"The cages were electrified. When we touched the bars, they shocked us. Jack was already suffering from the effects of the zat blast and then when he fell against the back the cage...", His voice trails off and I can see he's reliving the memory. "The guy kept asking me where 'our fourth' was. He wanted me to give up Teal'c. I wouldn't, I couldn't do that. But by staying silent, he was killing...I was killing Jack. He wouldn't stop the current in the cage. If General Hammond hadn't tried to make radio contact at that moment..."

I'm not sure Daniel even realizes he's still talking to me. His mind is elsewhere. "Even when Apophis played those mind games with Sokar's blood, it wasn't as bad as when I had to choose between betraying Jack and betraying Teal'c. I hope I never have to be put in that position again."

"Yeah." What do I say to that? I knew he'd been through a lot, hell the man's died...more than once. But wow. Like he said, concentrate on the here and now. It's cold comfort, but considering what I did today, it's all I can offer him. "Daniel, I know if it's a choice between me and helping Rafael with the device, I mean I don't want you to..."

Daniel focuses his attention back on me. "We just have to hold out until rescue comes." We spend the rest of the night in a silence only broken by my not so occasional coughs.

The next morning comes, and our hope returns for rescue, as well as our gallows humor. "You know the SGC will be sending someone. After all, they really need the artifact." I think the lack of food has made us too punchy. We joke about various rescue scenarios. It's boosting my morale.

Somehow, we miss the guards' approach. Daylight streams into our tiny sanctuary as the guards grab Daniel before either of us can move.

"Daniel!" I cry. He can barely give me a sideways look before he's pulled outside and over to that dreaded torture hut once again. I collapse even farther onto the ground in despair as the door shuts on my prison.

I'm not hearing any screams this time, just occasional raised voices. Sometimes I can distinguish Daniel's voice, but none of the words are clear. After a while, I hear a sound that makes my heart stop. Two gunshots crisp and clear echo through the compound. I know they've originated from the torture hut. I can't help but wonder if Dr. Daniel Jackson has finally hit the end of his nine lives. I see a figure tumble out of the doorway. It's one of the rebels. It looks like he's diving for cover. Rescue? Doubtful. The rebel didn't raise any alarm, and he looks fine. There are no other sounds of a firefight. What in the world just happened?

I alternate now between scanning the compound and turning away. I don't know if I can bear seeing them drag Daniel's lifeless body out of the shack. I don't know if I can bear not knowing his final fate. I see the door open, and my blurry vision stays fixed to the dark doorway. Two men are herding Daniel back towards me. He's alive. More than that, he's upright, stumbling but mobile! From the distance, my nearsightedness can't make out any large bloody wounds. I was holding my breath too long in anticipation, and those damn wracking coughs remind me I need oxygen. I think I've pulled myself together by the time they shove Daniel back into the shack. Now that I can see him up close, he looks horrible. Blood stains his shirt and face. His left cheek is already swelling, a small cut still bleeding below his eye. At least he was walking when they threw him back into our little hut. He's breathing heavy, half curled on the ground, and I try to feel for broken bones or serious injury. Though if he's really injured, there's nothing I can do anyway. To my surprise, he's looking at me and grinning. "They just beat me up this time."

"Oh, well there's improvement." I counter. Sometimes I wonder if sarcasm is a prerequisite to joining the Stargate program, or if it's an infectious side effect from the outlandish scenarios we deal with every day. I've noticed a darker turn to my humor in recent months.

His grin fades and he grips my arm. "Bill, they've turned it on."

Whatever color is left in my face must be gone. "What?"

His grip is bruising my arm. "They've turned on the device. I think it's been on most of the night. Rafael and the others are already affected. We've got to get out of here, now."

"Daniel, I don't understand. What happened in there? When I heard that shot..."

For the first time I noticed the gleam in his eye as he nods at me. I don't think Rafael is the only one who's been affected. "Rafael killed Chalo when he sided with me about turning the device off. He's not thinking clearly anymore. His questions were random and punctuated with his fists even more than yesterday."

I wince at Daniel's biting words. "Daniel, are you okay? Um...do you think you could let go of my arm?"

"What? Oh sorry." Daniel releases his grip with such force that I actually lose my balance from where I'm leaning over him. Landing on my butt, the air is forced out of my lungs and I begin coughing again. This is getting old. To my chagrin, Daniel barely notices. He's up and pacing our tiny shack, looking for weaknesses. "We have got to get out of here." He repeats. He's studying the boards holding up our ramshackle abode with the intense concentration I've seen him use on hieroglyphs.

"Daniel, you don't seem like yourself."

He turns back to me, and his eyes aren't quite so glassy. "I know," he nods. "But it seems to be fading. I wasn't exposed for long. Thanks to Rafael, my injuries must have protected me from the worst of the mental effects, so I'm just using the energy to our advantage. We can't worry about that now. We've just got to get out of here." He pauses at a corner in the back of the hut where the boards are a bit further apart. "Here."

"Can I help?" Damn, I couldn't hide the wheeze in my breath this time.

He looks at me, and I see more of the compassionate friend than the almost manic stranger who was first dumped in here. "Actually I think it's just a one man job. Though let me borrow your boot."

"My boot?"

"Yeah, and your belt." He's already pulling off his own belt.

"What are you doing?"

"I need leverage," He weaves our belts together and through the narrow gap, twisting the ends around the boot. All the coughing has taken more out of me than I thought, and I lean against the wall next to him.

"Shouldn't we at least wait until nighttime?" I'm all for escaping, but Rafael's getting a little trigger happy for my taste.

"I don't think we have that long." Daniel grunts as he winches the belts surrounding the boards even tighter.

"We won't get 100 yards before they kill us."

"Yeah, if we stay, they'll definitely kill us. I saw the short term effects of that device. I know what a sarcophagus does to a person's sanity, and this is far more powerful." Daniel's blue eyes are looking right at me in all seriousness. "I don't think we want to stick around to find out what long-term exposure does."

I get it now. I agree. The sooner we get out of here the better. I try and trick my raw throat into swallowing non-existent saliva as a crack sounds above our heads. One of the boards is now loose and leaning on Daniel's shoulder. We'll soon have a way out.

Now that there's more space to work with, Daniel abandons his makeshift winch and is pulling at the boards by hand. I'm still tying the laces on my boot as he pulls another board away. Gunfire erupts through the compound. At least there's now a distraction, and we're going to take full advantage of it. Daniel's pulled enough boards loose by the time I'm upright that we can squeeze through the opening. He's already through, and I'm right behind him.

We pause at the treeline and try to see from our minor cover why they're shooting. If it's our rescue, maybe we won't have to make a run for it after all. Instead I see Chalo, rigid and unfocused, firing randomly towards the other rebels. I thought Daniel said he'd been killed...oh. The Telchak device is the root technology of the sarcophagus. Uh oh.

Daniel glances back at me and shakes his head. "That's not good." We run.

The initial burst of adrenalin which helped me escape from the camp fades as I try to keep up with Daniel. I know we're running for our lives, but my lungs are about to burst. I pause at a tree and try to catch my breath, my ragged gasps are starting to turn into coughs.

Daniel doubles back and pulls on me. "Bill, you've got to keep moving."

I shake my head and try and get him to move on, but before I can even speak, the tree I'm leaning on is showered with bullets. The rebels know we've escaped. Seems I have a second wind after all. My brain convinces my body the life and death struggle isn't over yet and a new shot of adrenalin pushes me forward after Daniel.

We're barely ahead of the rebels as my body gives out once again. I trip and land in the dirt. This time, I know I've got no more reserves of energy. Daniel can't stay with me; he's still got a chance to escape. No sense in both of us getting recaptured...or killed. Oddly enough, I'm so tired I don't think I care if they kill me. Maybe it'll be a relief from this tight pain across my chest every time I try and take a breath. "I can't...I can't breathe." I don't even recognize my voice anymore as Daniel helps me to my feet, telling me I can. I try and tell him to leave me. "Daniel, I can't..."

Before I know it, Daniel's half dragged me behind some foliage. He's hiding me. "Stay there, I'll draw them off." Before I can even respond, he's gone. Not thirty seconds later, Rafael and two of the rebels run by. I lean heavily against the tree trunk, trying to regain my breath. I'm glad I'm not holding Daniel back. Maybe he can outrun them. God, I hope so.

I'm fighting hard now to stop from coughing. There is movement passing nearby again. I spot Chalo moving with an unsteady gait, following the path of the other rebels. He pauses and turns. I try to remain still, holding my breath to give away nothing. His eyes are glazed over and appear milky white. Gunfire sounds in the distance. Chalo turns towards the sounds and moves once again down the path. I start breathing again as the danger has passed.

My brain is still not operating on all cylinders as I process what's happened in the last few seconds. I was almost a goner until the zombie was distracted by the rebels' weapons. I swallow my breath, making me break down into hacking coughs, when the realization hits. If the rebels were firing their guns, that means they spotted Daniel again. I know he's in good shape and that Telchak device hopefully increased his stamina, but he can't outrun bullets for long. I need to help him, but my inability to breathe normally shows how little use I would be. I've failed him again.

I finally get my breathing under control. Before I open my eyes, I get the feeling I'm being watched. Damn it, Bill. Either dead man walking has returned, or it's another rebel. For a second, I'm tempted to keep my eyes closed as a childish denial. If I can't see them, they won't see me, and maybe I'm not seconds away from getting killed. Then I hear the voice.

"Dr. Lee? William Lee?"

I can feel the hysterical giggle rising, but I'm able to control myself. Daniel and I discussed rescue. My dreams have been filled with every scenario from black clad SG teams to rebel Jaffa in Death Gliders. But none of my imaginings match the sight before me. A small, middle-aged man dressed in jungle fatigues and a bandanna similar to Daniel's stands before me, his weapon pointed to the side. He's chewing bubble gum, the pink bubble at his lips a stark contrast from the dark green of his attire. He looks like a middle-aged Rambo. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see someone in my life.

I nod, not able to believe my eyes. "American?" My voice is a hoarse gasp.

The Rambo wanna-be grins. "Yeah, hoss, I'm your rescue." He reaches near his belt and grabs a canteen. "Are you injured? You're looking a little blue around the gills." As he gets closer and hands me the canteen, I notice his eyes are constantly moving, watching for danger.

I shake my head. "Asthma. Couldn't breathe." Complicated by pneumonia, a bruised rib, concussion, and whatever the hell are the aftereffects of electrical torture. But I don't add these thoughts to my response. Besides being too much to say, I need to focus on telling him what's important.

"Daniel. You've got to help him. He drew them away. They're going to kill him." As if to emphasize my statement, weapon's fire echoes in the distance. I freeze.

My rescuer grins, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. "That was Jack's weapon, not an AK. Still, I gotta go. How many hostiles?"

"Three rebels, and one..." I pause. I don't know this guy's background. I've already been telling too much classified information. But I can't have my rescuer facing Zombie Chalo without some warning.

"One what?" he prompts.

"One guy you'll need to use heavy firepower on." I emphasize the word heavy and nod towards the huge projectiles stored on his bandolier.

"Okay." He looks puzzled, but shrugs. "Stay put and out of sight until I return." He pats my shoulder and places something in my hand.

Before I realize it, he's disappeared into the jungle. I feel foil packaging in my hand. What did he leave me, antibiotics, allergy pills? I open my palm. It's chewing gum.

I stay resting against my tree, tucking stray ferns and branches loosely around me to try and provide some small camouflage. The water from the canteen tastes wonderful. I sip it slowly, not because I know better (though I do when I can think clearly), just because I don't have the energy to drink more. The relief of knowing rescue is nearby and the exhaustion of my run and coughing fits have taken their toll. Maybe if I just close my eyes a bit and rest.

Something startles me to instant awareness. I don't know if it's the adrenalin or just the survival instinct that's been practiced way too often this week. There's movement along the path. I can't make out much more than a form, then I hear voices.

"We should be close." Gum guy is back.

"Bill?" I recognize Daniel's voice a second before I see him behind Gum guy. I rise to my feet and note he's leaning against a third figure. Gum guy mentioned a Jack, but I didn't realize he meant...

"Colonel O'Neill?"

He nods at me with a grim smile. I can see he's watching my movements, assessing any injuries, the same as I'm doing for him and Daniel.

"Daniel. You've been shot."

O'Neill lets out a short chuckle. "Nothing gets by you scientists, does it?" I'm not offended. I know Col. O'Neill's sense of humor by now. Besides, it was a pretty stupid statement. Daniel already knows he's been shot. I need to get some food before my brain shuts down entirely.

"I'll be fine, Bill. You ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." I stop leaning so heavily against my tree, so he will believe my response. Why is the jungle swaying? Oh, I guess it's me. Think I'll hold onto my tree again. Shouldn't have stood up so fast after all. At least the coughing has subsided. Wish that stupid rattle in my breath would go away.

"Yeah, you're looking great, Lee." O'Neill responds sarcastically.

I stand straight again. "I'm able to walk, Colonel."

Gum guy approaches with a five foot long stick stripped of branches and bark. "It's not the best crutch, but it should do until rescue arrives."

Daniel smiles, releasing his grip on O'Neill. "Thanks, Burke. We need to get back to the camp and turn off the device."

I shudder at going back but know he's right. I can't help but ask, "Rafael? Chalo?"

Daniel meets my gaze. "Dead. And not coming back." He glances sideways at Burke, and I know Gum guy is not cleared for alien explanations.

I nod in understanding. "Well, if Rafael could figure out how to turn the thing on, I'm sure we can figure out how to turn it off."

We make our way through the jungle, returning to the place that's been our unwanted home for the past four days. Burke and O'Neill motion for us to stay silent and in one spot as they check out the rest of the place, removing any weapons from reach of the rebels Chalo killed in his initial resurrection. Daniel is still standing, but I can tell the pain is starting to get to him. I had one more coughing fit on our trek back, but now am calm. I point out the torture hut to O'Neill, and he makes sure he's the one to inspect that shack for hostiles.

We're now standing in the center as Burke returns from the helicopter wreck. "Perimeter's clear. Just heard from air rescue. They've got the guide."

I'm about to turn to go into the hut, but Burke's words stop me. The guide? Daniel voices my confusion. "Rogelio?

"Yeah," Burke gives his easy smile. "He's going to be okay. They'll be here soon."

I suppress a small smile. Relief that the poor young man will be okay seems to give me added strength as I enter the torture hut. At least I hope that's what gives me the added strength. I pointedly ignore the corner where the battery and electrical torture devices are kept. It doesn't matter, my attention is immediately drawn to the table where the Telchak device sets. We need to get that device off. I'm fascinated by the iridescent blue light it gives off and can almost feel the power as I approach.

I hear Daniel's limping gait behind me. The glow is focused on the center of the cube, Now that I have a chance to study the device, I can see that the outer edges not only show Ancient writing, they are also partitioned into groupings of buttons, which also radiate that odd light. Now we only have to determine what combination will turn the device off. I'm noticing my breathing is a bit easier, so I must be feeling the effects. Daniel is beside me, and his face is grim.

Daniel and I study opposite sides of the cube. I spot a set of buttons that looks promising, the light they're exuding seems duller than the others. However, I know better than to press random buttons. "Do you know what this says?" I turn the cube so that Daniel can see what I'm talking about.

"Cease....and Source."

"So....the off switch?" I'm feeling a little impatient. I remember how Daniel was acting before our escape. Looks like I'm starting to feel all its side effects.

"Worth a shot," Daniel bites back.

He presses the two buttons. The slight hum stops, and the glow disappears. Daniel stumbles slightly, leaning against me. I keep him upright. The rattle is still in my lungs, but my breathing is not so labored. "I think it's off."

"I think so too. Let's get it out of here."

Daniel straightens and adjusts his full weight back to the makeshift crutch. I reach around the box and am careful to lift it so none of the other buttons are depressed. We make our way back out of the hut, and I vow never to return.

Colonel O'Neill and Burke are waiting outside for us.

Burke looks at us and the device. "Is that that thing that made that guy do that thing?"

"Yeah. It's okay. It's off." Daniel sounds as weary as I feel.

"Good." Colonel O'Neill responds.

"At least we think it's off," I clarify. "It's not glowing anymore."

"Glowing thing really gives it away," Daniel adds. "So if it's not glowing anymore it shouldn't be on anymore."

Even so, I'm still not really comfortable holding the cube that made Chalo walk and fire a gun after being shot half a dozen times. "Do you want to hold it?" I turn to Daniel.

"No." I'm unhappy to note Daniel limps sideways to move away from the object and me.
Burke laughs out loud at our antics. "That's crazy."

We don't wait long before the rescue chopper arrives. Rogelio is already tucked on board. His bullet wound is apparently "clean", with no internal complications. They're mainly treating him for shock and the innumerable insect bites that plagued him during his days lying in the jungle. To my surprise, he's alert and asking us about overtime for the expedition. Daniel assures him with a smile that he'll be compensated. The way he looks at me, I'm wondering if I'm going to have to fill out the triplicate requisition forms. At this point I don't care, I'm just happy that we're all alive.

We're fed power bars during the brief helicopter flight. I don't think military rations have ever tasted so good. We land at the international airport. Rogelio will be transferred to a local medical facility, but the medics on the flight establish Daniel and I are stable enough to fly back to the US right away. I will be ecstatic to see Janet Fraiser.

When we land, both Daniel and I attempt to move from the stretchers where we've been strapped for the transport. I think Daniel's as impatient to get out of here as I am, but Colonel O'Neill stills us with a glance. "Ah! Where do you two think you're going."

"I can walk."

"The wound's not that bad." Daniel's and my voices overlap each other.

"I don't want to hear it. You stay on those stretchers. And I don't want to hear another word. Understand?"

The glare the colonel gives us is enough to quell my independence, and I meekly nod. Daniel, however has other ideas.

"Jack..."

"Daniel, what did I say? We're not taking a chance you could injure the wound more. Besides, it's the fastest way to get you out of the country and away from any awkward questions. Got it?"

Daniel sighs. "Okay, Jack."

The embassy official Mr. Ramirez meets us at the tarmac. He hands our passports and other paperwork to Colonel O'Neill while Daniel and I are transferred to the military transport plane on gurneys.

"So, they were really just archeologists?"

O'Neill nods.

"And the artifacts they found?"

"You've cleared the diplomatic standing of the flight?" The colonel ignores his question.

"Yes, but..."

"Thank you for your assistance. We need to get our men back to medical attention. Make sure Mr. Duran is treated well."

"Of course. Thank you, Colonel." O'Neill turns to Burke, but by that point my gurney is no longer within hearing distance.

I sleep most of the flight back to Colorado. Both Daniel and I are on intravenous fluids to treat our dehydration. I think they must have also slipped a sedative in my line, because I fall asleep soon after takeoff. When I wake up, Daniel and Colonel O'Neill are in the middle of a conversation next to me.

"I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw you there, and all the rebels dead."

"Yeah, you had a bit of a shell shocked look. Hey, what were you going to do with that rock, anyway?"

I look over to where Daniel and Colonel O'Neill are talking. Daniel is lying with his eyes half closed. Jack O'Neill is strapped into a jump seat between us both, wearing his trademark, cocked grin.

Daniel grins back sheepishly. "You know, use whatever weapons are at hand, and well, rock beats scissors."

"Yeah, I don't think it has the same effect on machetes. And what do you mean you couldn't believe I was there? I had to make sure you stayed alive. I mean, you still have to repay that fifty bucks."

Daniel's eyes snap fully open, and he shakes his head, still maintaining his grin. "I've told you before, Jack. I remember practically everything now from before I was ascended, and I do not remember owing you any fifty dollars. In fact, as I recall, you lost the last bet we made, and I'm not sure you paid up." Daniel's voice has an ease I haven't heard since we were in Rogelio's cantina.

"See, obviously your memory still has some holes." Colonel O'Neill shifts in his seat, but I can see the relief in his face at being able to banter with his wounded teammate.

Daniel's expression turns serious. "So where are Sam and Teal'c now?"

"They found Anubis's homeworld. They plan to do some recon and sabotage."

"And you couldn't go too because you had to come after me and Bill."

Colonel O'Neill immediately corrected him. "Carter and Teal'c couldn't come with me because they needed to help Jacob and Bra'tac. They're probably already back and waiting for us at the mountain."

"Yeah," Daniel's voice is low. "I was supposed to be back before you captured the supersoldier." They caught one, alive? And now they're in the heart of Anubis's territory. Wow. We missed a lot during our jungle adventure. "Sam said she wouldn't leave without me."

"Yeah, well you know Carter. Once she gets some theory in her head, she's like the Energizer Bunny until she can see it through."

"She's leading the mission, huh? I'm sure she's doing fine."

"Hey, she learned from the best." They're both chuckling, but no humor is behind their voices. "Get some sleep, Daniel. Mission accomplished. Everyone's alive, and you'll be complaining in Janet's infirmary in no time."

There's a pregnant pause in conversation, then two words are uttered.

"Jack."

"Daniel."

I just witnessed one of the infamous exchanges between two icons of the SGC. I never understood how so much could be heard when they're just speaking each other's names, but now that I've seen it firsthand, I can't figure out what words could describe it. These two men have been through more with each other than anyone else on this planet, and it seems to link them on a level that doesn't even need verbal acknowledgment.

I stay still, thinking about what I've overheard, then get the sense of someone watching me. I turn to see Colonel O'Neill. He's shifted his position, still sitting between us, but facing me instead of Daniel. "We'll be in Colorado soon. How do you feel? Do you need the medic?"

I shake my head. The sedative's worn off, but I'm still feeling blissfully numb otherwise. I can wait until we get home for more meds. I'm not noticing the pain in my chest. They've got me on oxygen which also helps.

"Thank you," I know he mainly came for Daniel. But this makes twice this man has risked his life to save mine. First on that moon with those alien fireflies, and now this. I don't know how I'll repay him. I wonder if I should tell him...

O'Neill shrugs my thanks off. "Yeah, your tax dollars at work. Save the world, save the scientists." He turns fully towards me. "Bill, Daniel told me everything." I blink in surprise. If Daniel told him everything, including my betrayal, why is looking at me like that? I've seen Jack O'Neill when he's pissed, and this is not that expression. Plus, that's the first time he's ever called me by my first name. "He also told me you're beating yourself up about it. I'm ordering you to stop." He gives me a half-grin. "I know civilians hate to be given orders."

"No, sir. I mean, yes, Colonel. But..."

"Ah-ah. I'm going to tell you the same thing I told him, since you both seem to be suffering some sort of guilt complex out of this. Your job was to stay alive, and if possible keep Daniel alive as well. I know how hard that job is sometimes. You did it. You're both here. The bad guys are dead. Anything they may have known is gone with them. Anything else doesn't matter." I see a shadow of something behind his expression. "It doesn't matter. You made it; you survived; you got the device that'll help us fight Anubis. Now just rest and dream of pretty nurses taking care of you. I know that's what keeps me happy when I'm injured."

"Will Daniel be all right? The bullet wound?"

"I'm fine."

"You're supposed to be resting." Jack scolds.

"I am resting. It's not like I'm running laps strapped down here," Daniel protests. "Bill's the one we should be worried about. He's been really sick. I think he's got malaria."

Malaria? That never crossed my mind. Pneumonia yes. Of course, we were in a hot, humid climate. All those vaccinations include anti-malarial shots. I just never thought it through. I groan. "Malaria."

"You already told me that, Daniel. They'll test you both when we get back to Colorado. We didn't want to do anything that would mess up getting you out of the country. The medic said Lee's fever is already down, and yours is very low. I don't like the little swim you two took in that temple. Burke and I saw the well."

"It wasn't a well when we arrived."

"So I heard. Like I said, you're still alive. Not for lack of trying to kill yourselves. Sometimes, Daniel." Jack sighs and leans back in his chair. "Now both of you be quiet and go to sleep. I'm exhausted."

For once, I'm glad that Daniel Jackson is wrong. I don't have malaria, just pneumonia. Unfortunately, it is a particularly nasty version, complicated by my emaciated state. I was in a drugged up stupor for a few days while being fed antibiotics. Daniel's been my roommate in the infirmary. His leg luckily doesn't need extensive surgical treatment.

You'd think after spending that much time with each other, we'd be sick of each other. But Daniel and I pass the time pretty easily. Probably helps that I've mostly been sleeping. When I'm awake, Daniel and I discuss the device we've bled and sweat for, trying to figure it out from the photos and lab results Coombs snuck into us. Jay was in once for a mercifully short visit. Both the guys are still very busy studying the device and the armor. Of course, Jack O'Neill's been visiting as well, passing along the latest base gossip and being a pest to Janet Fraiser and the rest of the infirmary staff.

"Colonel O'Neill. Why is it when I need you here, you do everything possible to run away, but when you don't have to be here, I can't keep you out?" Dr. Fraiser finally shouts in exasperation.

"Ah, Doc. You know I'm just here to brighten up the place."

"I'll remember that the next time you need your inoculations." The twinkle in her eye belies the stern tone to her voice.

Colonel O'Neill almost drops the yo-yo he's been playing with in surprise. "Now Doc..." the rest of his sentence is interrupted by the loudspeakers ordering him to the control room. He looks at Daniel with an inscrutable expression and then quickly moves to the door. Daniel's already getting up and reaching for his crutches to follow him.

"Ach! I did not hear Daniel Jackson mentioned in that page." It's funny to see a five foot tall woman stop a six foot tall man in his tracks. "You are staying right there in that bed until I say so, Daniel. Besides, you'll look silly out there in hospital scrubs."

"But Janet, it might be about Sam and Teal'c. Besides, I'm..."

"If you say fine, Dr. Jackson, I will strap you to the bed myself. Your test results show you're still fighting off an infection."

Daniel lies back in his bed. "Getting kinky, Dr. Fraiser?" he teases.

"You wish. If you stop trying to get up before it's time, you may actually get out of here in a day or two. But. Not. Now. I'm sure the colonel will be back soon if there's news. We can't seem to keep him out of here for long." The doctor glances over at me, as if daring me to start trouble. I think the best course of action is to just lie quietly. Satisfied both her patients are sufficiently cowed, she leaves, grabbing Daniel's crutches as a precaution.

"Now you see why Jack calls her the Napoleonic Power Monger."

"I heard that," the disembodied voice echoes from the hall.

Colonel O'Neill is back sooner than expected, and he's wearing a huge grin. "We've heard from Jacob. They've made it out and are two days from a Tok'ra planet. They'll be able to gate home from there. From what Janet's told me, you'll probably be released by that time and can meet them with me in the gateroom."

Daniel practically jumps out of bed. "Are they okay? Sam, Teal'c?"

"They picked up a stowaway while leaving that knocked Sam around a bit, but Jacob says she'll be fine." He half-scowls. "If her Dad says she's okay, who am I to argue? Teal'c claims only his pride is hurt, but Jacob mentioned Doc should look him over anyway."

"I guess same old, same old." It's almost amusing to see identical expressions on both their faces. I can tell they're lost in thought, mentally trying to be with their teammates halfway across the galaxy. They're both relieved and worried.

"I never had any doubts." I try to reassure them. They both blink and stare at me in surprise. I think they forgot I was there. "You're SG-1. You always make it back," I nod at 'Nine-Lives' Jackson, "you know, sooner or later."

Colonel O'Neill gives a lopsided grin. "Well, if the scientist says it, it must be true."

Fin.