Jmas Fan Fiction

Chapter 15

Separate we come, and separate we go,
And this be it known, is all that we know.
 

  ~ Conrad Aiken

~*~

 

 

 

The situation was way beyond eerie and swiftly moving into the realm of surreal.

A deserted ha’tak parked in plain sight on a planet it had no business being on, no signs of life anywhere at all - neither the resident goa’uld or jaffa of said ha’tak, nor any of the thousands of Nox supposedly residing on the planet - nor SG1.

Jacob sighed as he scanned the hillside again and rechecked the readings on his sensors.

No life.

So where the hell had everybody gone?

Omoc pointed toward the city serenely floating above them and Jacob reset the range. Slowly blips appeared, more and more of them as he scanned the vast structure that defied all the laws of gravity he or Selmak had ever known. It was not supposed to be possible to hold that much mass suspended in mid-air.

‘Evidently it is...’ came Selmak’s dry appraisal.

‘No shit, Selmak... ’

A mental shrug was all the response he got. Possible or not, there it was. And it seemed all the life signs on the planet were concentrated there. Jacob nodded to his companions, letting them know their new objective was the potentially unobtainable goal floating above their heads.

Jacob watched their ragtag team digest the knowledge, watched as each one considered possibilities and dismissed them in turn. Short of flying the Tollan vessel and docking to the city, a maneuver the craft had never been designed for - they had no options.

George was shaking his head, conferring with his majors. The sharp, determined tones of Major Feretti carried across the distance. “We can do it, sir...”

Jacob shifted around to join them, looking curiously from Feretti to Griff. “Do what?”

Feretti looked to his commander for permission before speaking. At George’s nod, he plunged ahead quickly. “Get into the ha’tak and borrow the transport rings.”

‘Not bad...’

Jacob groaned at his partner before turning a doubtful look on Feretti. “It could work, I’ll give you that, but it’s just as possible we’re walking straight into a trap.”

Griff nodded. “Yes, sir. We ‘could’ be. We could also wind up where the Nox and SG1 are, which is the point of this little exercise, isn’t it?”

‘He’s got you there...’

‘Just what I need, remarks from the peanut gallery...’

‘All part of the service, Jake.’

Jacob groaned half-heartedly. He knew if Selmak had serious doubts or reservations about the plan, the remarks would be far more helpful. Jacob traded looks with the Tollan, knowing this sort of operation was out of their usual sort of experience. If it came to a battle, he had to wonder just how far they would be willing to go.

His answer came in the form of a nonverbal exchange worthy of a Tok’ra. Questions were asked and answered in the exchange of a few long looks, a headshake and a nod before both men drew hand weapons from beneath their jackets.

‘Okay....’ Jacob was not entirely sure, but he sensed something big had just happened to the Tollan hands off policy. It might have been just between two of them, but Jacob would wager his nonexistent pension Omoc had a lot more influence among his high counsel than he let on.

With a glance back to George, Jacob rescanned the ha’tak. No life. George nodded and blew out a big sigh. He was clearly not happy with the proposition, but Jacob knew his friend well enough to know that George would see what Selmak had helped him understand.

They were out of options.

 

~*~

 

Four jaffa guarded the corridor.

Teal’c looked over at his ‘team’ with an inward twinge of doubt. He had no doubt he could ‘remove’ the jaffa with the zat’nikatel, but the danger lay in one or more of them reacting too quickly and either raising an alarm or returning fire with the louder staff weapons - which would achieve the same result. Unwanted attention.

In order for their plan to have the best chance of success, Klorel could suspect nothing until it was far too late to react. With a sigh, Teal’c readied his weapon - glancing over his shoulder one last time at his companions and seeing....

“Nefreyu?” Lya’s voice was soft and questioning, as if she were not entirely able to trust the evidence of her eyes.

The boy approached cautiously, emotions clearly warring with his youthful bravado, before launching himself into his mother’s arms. The family gathered around the boy, nearly obscuring him from Teal’c’s view, clearly communicating with one another in their own way.

Antaeus looked up in alarm. “Nefreyu has seen them, just this morning.”

Nefreyu nodded, launching into a soft recitation of everything he had seen. The tale was most disturbing, and Teal’c could see from the boy’s haunted expression it would be a very long time before the memories faded for him.

“We must go now. Klorel will return to them soon.” The boy’s eyes grew wide with fear. “He will kill them this time.”

Teal’c did not ask how the boy knew, did not doubt his words were truer than he feared. Klorel had completely given in to his madness, and was now truly lost in it.

And O’Neill and Daniel Jackson were the focus of his insanity. All of Klorel’s torture had proven he could not control them, now he would kill them - Teal’c was sure of it - in the most violent way possible. They had to get to them first.

Teal’c moved back to the juncture of the corridor, planning the best way of getting them all safely to the other side.

Nefreyu left his mother’s embrace and tugged at Teal’c’s sleeve.

“There is another way....”

 

~*~

 

They were ready.

‘Ready as we can be to crash an entire city…’ Sam mused as she stared out of the observation port.

They were only waiting for the signal – a signal the source of which she preferred not to consider – from Teal’c’s team. They had the furthest distance to travel, and the Nox family was adamant they had to be near the colonel and Daniel when the device stopped working.

Sam could not shake the strong gut feeling the Nox were being less than truthful with them. Not lying – she knew better than to think that – but not exactly giving her and Teal’c the full story.

She was afraid for her friends, afraid of what Klorel had done – and what he could still yet do in the time they were taking to arrange rescue.

‘No percentage in maybes, Sammie, ’ she berated herself, taking comfort in her father’s oft-repeated phrase. She had always taken the words with the multiple grains of salt children tend to grant their parents as they reach adulthood and realize they will never truly be seen as ‘grown,’ but her experience with SG1 had taught her the lesson was all too true. In the past four years they had accomplished things she would formerly have classified as huge maybes – if not total impossibilities – and been proven wrong in assuming so many things. It was not an easy lesson; even now it sometimes took Daniel or the colonel to gently guide, cajole or even occasionally berate her into questioning the ‘order of things’ as she had always known and accepted them.

The universe according to the goa’uld followed its own set of rules, followed a pattern both simple and intricate, but in no way consistent. It changed – and they had to change with it or truly be lost beneath the goa’uld machine.

Slowly, she was learning to play the game rather than letting the game play her. Complex, erratic, often illogical - it could even be fun at times, but it was never boring.

Sam smiled worriedly. ‘Just be okay, guys. Life wouldn’t be the same out here without you....’

And that was so true. Four years had changed so much in Sam’s life. She had grown from a fairly clueless Pentagon brainiac to a fully accepted member of the top team SGC had going. She enjoyed her life with SG1, enjoyed the friendships she had come to treasure, and never wanted anything to change the way things were for them. It worked for all of them on every level imaginable and - for her - there was definitely no percentage in messing with a good thing. No percentage at all.

The Nox technician, Phineus, held up his hand, striking a listening pose Sam knew involved no audible sound. “It is time.”

Sam nodded and moved to the control panel, sighing deeply.

“Just be okay....”

 

~*~

 

It was a long way down.

Daniel had nervously joked once about a ‘height thing’, and it was true - to a point. He was in no way comfortable balancing on a nine-inch beam across a seemingly bottomless chasm. No sane person would be - in Daniel’s estimation. He had jumped out of airplanes - repeatedly - in the course of his SGC training, and while it would never head his list of fun things to do - he could do it.

He had once even climbed the pyramid on Abydos, fulfilling a lifelong dream he had never expected to be realized on Earth of climbing the pyramid at Giza where he had spent so much time as a child. His parents had actually caught him attempting it once, scrambling after him in a panic when they spotted him thirty feet up. He remembered being so disappointed at being caught, and he had never been able to fully explain with his five year-old vocabulary exactly ‘why’ he wanted it so much. It was a good memory, one of the last clear memories he had of them before they had all gone to New York - and life had irrevocably changed.

This, though, was more in the neighborhood of the nine-inch beam. No visible means of support. Nowhere, no how. Just a six-inch ledge with miniscule and infrequent handholds.

“Not many structural details on Nox architecture,” he noted dryly, pleased to see Jack smile. Truth be told, the older man looked about as green as Daniel felt when considering the prospect.

“Somebody needs to complain to the city managers.” Jack was willing to play the game of ‘just another day’ and Daniel was more than happy to let him. It was better than dwelling on the alternative.

“I’ll, ah, make a note of it,” he remarked with a return smile.

Jack grinned again, his eyes scanning the expanse of the wall, the greenery attached all around it then leaning out to study the floor beneath.

“There’s another window down there....”

Daniel straightened stiffly to meet Jack’s eyes. “Die Hard?”

The reference to one of Jack’s favorite movies communicated Daniel’s understanding of what Jack had in mind, his doubtful tone revealing just how little he thought of it but also his recognition it was probably the only chance they had.

“Something like that,” Jack replied with a distracted smile, testing the strength of the vines above them. “We can make it.”

Daniel knew Jack was not so much telling him they could as much as asking if Daniel thought he could. With a sigh Daniel nodded. To get away from Klorel, to escape what already felt overdue, he could do it. He had to.

While Jack pulled one of the vines away from its anchoring, following it to its source and making sure it was secure, Daniel lay his head down on the balcony rail. He was working very hard at remaining upright, knowing all too well if he sat down it would be that much harder to get up and move again. His body ached on levels he had never felt before, in places he never thought it was possible to hurt.

He knew Jack was feeling it too, his own aches and pains in conjunction with Daniel’s. Surprisingly Jack’s confidence level was higher than Daniel would have expected, but then he was on his feet and moving positively toward some means of action. Jack on the move was always a far more self-assured man.

‘Wish the hell I could help more….’

A hand came to rest lightly on the back of Daniel’s neck, gently rubbing in reassurance.

“You’re doing fine, Daniel. Just hang on a little longer.”

Daniel nodded, straightening up finally to give Jack a cocky grin he was sure lost something in the translation.

“Nothing better to do…”

Jack gave Daniel’s neck a final squeeze and tossed the coiled vine in his arms over the side of the balcony. The thick vine seemed secure enough, but Jack wrapped the end around one of the columns bordering the window anyway and tied it off. Daniel stood with an effort, flexing muscles carefully to prepare for what had to be done.

“Ready?” Jack grinned and his eyebrow quirked in an eloquent admission that he knew quite well the inanity of the question.

Daniel started to nod, realized there was no sense in keeping up any pretense with Jack. “No, but let’s do it anyway….”

Jack nodded and took hold of the vine. “Ten feet down and three over to the right; down and swing, okay? I’ll go down first and guide you over.”

With a sigh, Daniel took a quick look back at the door, the overwhelming certainty that time was running out hitting him hard. He felt a dark dread that not only had a face but also a name - Klorel.

“Go, Jack…”

 

 

 

Chapter 16

It beckons, I follow.
   Good-by to the light,
I am going, O whither?
   Out into the night...

 

~ Henry Richard Stoddard

~*~

 

 

The prisoners were no longer chained to the wall.

They were, in fact, in the process of climbing across the balcony rail, O’Neill was already out of sight and Daniel Jackson’s legs were just swinging over into the nothingness beyond.

“No!” Klorel screamed the protest, breaking into a powerful run, reaching Daniel Jackson just as the younger man attempted to slip out of sight, taking the chance on his strength holding up against the sharp pull of his body’s weight.

It almost worked.

Klorel reached out a long arm to capture the scruff of Daniel Jackson’s shirt, felt the fabric pull taut as O’Neill tried to reach for his friend’s legs. There was a sharp bark of pain from Daniel Jackson as Klorel drew him back upward, and blood spots appeared on the white fabric of his shirt as the stretched muscles pulled against wounds that had barely begun to heal.

Klorel raised the hated human back into the room and held him by his neck at eye-level as he searched for words to express his rage; there were none. With an unfocused roar, Klorel shook Daniel Jackson. As the human struggled to breathe, the roar turned into a laugh. He had enjoyed the previous day’s sport immensely, but there was a certain immediacy of satisfaction to be found in this more direct approach.

As the human’s hands reached up to ineffectually strain at Klorel’s grip, he shook the man roughly again before tossing him across the floor. As Klorel watched the human struggled to his knees, even now stubbornly defiant in his refusal to simply accept his fate.

“O’Neill!” Klorel raised his voice only slightly, certain the other man had not gone far. “You will return now or he will die now.”

There was no sound or movement from the balcony. Klorel reached down to once again grasp Daniel Jackson, bringing the man upright before him. Klorel knew his hand wrapped in the loose cloth of the human’s shirt was the only thing keeping him on his feet. Bleary eyes still taunted him with their sullen silence; even in the face of the death Klorel promised with his own gaze, the human would not yield.

It was not right. Daniel Jackson should be cowering in fear before him, begging mercy for his faithless Tau’ri soul.

Klorel was a god; he demanded to be seen as such.

With another growl of rage, he rammed a fist into the human’s stomach before flinging him away again into one of the vine-covered pillars, smiling coldly at the audible crunch he heard at the impact.

“You will bow to me!”

The human rolled to his back, moaning and clutching at his ribs, but still - again - staring up in rebellious disdain. Klorel drew back his foot and kicked out in anger, seeking to erase the expression, then hesitated. So much better still to erase the mind behind the eyes.

Yes.

Erase the mind.

Klorel dropped to his knees beside the human, roughly sliding Daniel Jackson upward to lean his body against the pillar. He wanted to see it all, wanted to watch the life drain away before him.

Nothing less would satisfy him now.

 

~*~

 

Echoes of pain not his own hampered Jack’s efforts to climb back up the vine; Klorel was beating the crap out of Daniel. At one point, he had even felt the tie between them spark and give way when Klorel had thrown Daniel across the room. As he climbed, Jack reached deep inside himself to open the link connecting them further than they had ever attempted before. Daniel had to hang on; he had to.

Klorel had seriously lost it.

Jack could feel Daniel’s near panic and knew his friend had very good cause to be feeling it. The impotent fury of Klorel’s voice told its own story of just how far gone the goa’uld was now. There would be no more reprieves, no more left-handed mercy. Klorel would kill Daniel then track Jack wherever necessary to do the same to him. It was no longer a question for Klorel, no longer a game, no longer an if; he wanted them ‘gone’ and nothing less would appease him.

With a burst of adrenaline-driven energy, Jack dragged himself hand over hand up the rough vine, seeking barely existent crevices in the facade with his boots. He had nearly reached the balcony’s lower railing when he heard Klorel’s shouted command. “You will bow to me!” The voice was followed by a sound of impact, an impact Jack tried to brace against, but he could only hold onto the rail and breathe through his own moans echoing the rasping gasps he could hear coming from Daniel. Ribs, had to be.

When he could see again, Jack peeked through the rails to see Klorel’s expression illuminate with a smile that burned coldly.

‘Fuck...not yet....’

As Klorel brought his hand device up, Jack strained to reach the upper railing, hauling himself up and over in desperation even as he heard the device activate. Jack went down on his knees as the pain started; it felt as if his brain was boiling inside his head, taking him further and further from who he was, drawing him out of his body and toward the bitter darkness that was Klorel.

‘God, no...’

Jack pushed himself forward on hands and knees; he had to reach Daniel, had to hold him here before...

Something was happening. There was a subtle whump and a shudder rocked the floor. Klorel had stopped the process, releasing Daniel to stare around the room in something that looked amazingly like fear.

Jack shoved himself up to his knees and dived the final distance to Daniel, grabbing him even as he slumped bonelessly away from the force that had been the only thing keeping him upright and pulling him into a protective embrace. It was all he physically could do at the moment and he was fairly sure Klorel had other things on his mind.

The goa’uld was staring wildly at the walls of the room as if an enemy was surrounding him, an enemy only he could see. The ribbon device fell away from Klorel’s hand and he was backing away slowly toward the balcony, his eyes wide, roaming to and fro in something Jack could only call terror.

Jack tightened his grip on Daniel, noting that his friend was watching Klorel through pain-creased eyes. As they watched, Klorel’s body started to glow, a greenish aura coalescing all around him. A single layer of the aura slipped away, seeping along the room to absorb itself into the walls. Then another separated and disappeared into the greenery.

Klorel still retreated, moving until his back came up sharply against the wall.

“No....” It was barely a whisper of sound, but Jack could hear the overwhelming fear - the sound of a thing that had once believed it was a god coming to the icy realization something else existed more powerful than itself. Something with the power to take back what had been taken away so ruthlessly.

Beyond Klorel the sky seemed to be moving by quickly, as if a storm were rolling in. It seemed appropriate.

“The city, Jack...”

‘Oh, hell... ’

Daniel was right; the sky was not moving, the city was - moving down. Jack sat down on the floor, bracing Daniel’s pain-taut body against him.

There was another glow around Klorel now, this one blue. As Jack watched, Klorel turned toward him and his eyes settled into a familiar and recognizable brown - Connor - before it, too, slipped away.

All that remained was black. A black shading lying over Klorel’s body that Jack could not help but equate with the goa’uld’s soul. Jack did not begin to understand what he had just seen, but it seemed to him that Klorel had been stripped down to the essence of all the goa’uld was and had ever been.

Connor was no longer there; Jack was sure of it, and the bits of humanity Skaara might have left behind as well as any shades of goodness that had once been a part of the more complex multitudinous character of the being known as Klorel were all gone now.

There was only evil.

And evil recognized itself.

Klorel screamed - a long, keening almost primal sound - and launched himself toward the balcony. Desperation and the need for escape were clear in every line of the tortured face and Jack began to believe Klorel would actually jump in order to escape.

A tug on Jack’s sleeve and Daniel was directing his attention to the walls, which seemed – however impossibly – to be glowing with power of some kind; a power that was even now reaching out to them in a visible shimmering cloud. Enveloping first Klorel then the two of them even as the city - landed - shuddering with the force of a mid-level quake.

 

~*~

 

Four jaffa lay dead in the clearing next to a pen obviously intended to hold prisoners. They had been circling around to the sheltered side of the massive vehicle when Pierce and Griff had made the alarming discovery. It was almost certain the Nox were not responsible. Which meant SG1 had been involved in a battle.

‘Perhaps to free the prisoners? ’ Narim mused privately as he listened to General Hammond discuss this new mystery. The only good thing about the situation was that they had found no other bodies, and no sign of blood that would indicate injuries to the Nox or SG1.

Narim gazed up at the city. Samantha was up there, with her friends, and the thoughts of what they all might be going through were nearly overwhelming. Only the knowledge that they were so close to them and the positive action toward trying to get to them was keeping Narim grounded. He had been in many tense situations in his life but few where life and death were so close at hand. Even fewer when one so dear to him was at risk. Again Narim had to wonder if the isolationist attitudes of Tollana were - ultimately - what was best for his world.

It seemed even Omoc was questioning this facet of their lives that had been in existence for almost a generation. The reasons for it were valid, but Narim couldn’t help but think the level to which it had been allowed to absolve them of responsibility for what went on outside their world needed redefinition.

Their technology had to be more than just a means to protect their isolation. Narim was coming to believe it brought with it a measure of responsibility toward those who did not have the luxury they possessed to simply choose not to fight. Through a situation not of their own making, the Earth people had no choice. From the moment Apophis had stepped through the Earth stargate, their choices had ended. Apophis knew them for the threat they were and would have moved to eliminate that threat regardless. If Earth had buried its stargate the same day, it would not have mattered. Apophis would have returned.

Narim sighed, trying to focus his attention back on the conversation going on around him and glanced up once again to the city - just in time to see an explosion blast away a portion of one of the lower structures and all eyes focused upward in disbelief as the city started to fall.

Jacob recovered first. “Forget the transport rings, that’s where we’re going...”

As they moved off at a run, Narim tried to still the fear in his heart. Klorel would not have brought the city down; it had to be SG1.

 

~*~

 

Too soon.

The city shuddered as they approached the Place; the floor seemed to move beneath them in a wave of liquid stone. Antaeus and Opher surrounded Lya and Nefreyu, crouching over them against the wall in an effort to protect them from the debris falling from the cracking ceilings and walls. Antaeus felt warmth against his back and looked up to see Teal’c; the jaffa was leaning over them all, his massive body providing shelter against the storm they themselves had caused.

Antaeus wished they had been swifter. Although they were less than twenty paces from the door, it might as well have been two hundred. They had not been near enough to protect O’Neill and Daniel.

Even now Antaeus could feel the Place pulse with power, a power focused against the madness that had assailed it since Klorel’s arrival. Antaeus could feel a resonant awareness from Lya and Opher as well. The two humans were caught up now in something beyond their power to assist; their two friends could only help each other now and prove themselves worthy.

The moment the power to Klorel’s device had ceased to operate, the Place had responded in an attempt to put right all that had gone wrong within its confines.

As the city settled to the ground the shuddering stopped and the debris dwindled to a shower of fine grains of dust. Teal’c moved away from them and extended a hand to help, his eyes on the door at the end of the corridor. Antaeus knew the jaffa was as concerned as they were, even without knowing how great the reasons were to be so.

Drawing closer to the Place brought with it sensation…

Chaos, pain, evil, strength.

With a deep breath, Antaeus swung the door wide to find chaos; even Teal’c seemed to sense it, his strong face shifting into a grimace of discomfort. Klorel lay near the open wall, his face a mask of terror Antaeus could read even at a distance. They moved forward together until they could see O’Neill and Daniel, unconscious and entwined together near one of the central pillars.

Teal’c moved ahead of them then, going to his knees beside his friends as his expression tightened into one of anger at the sight. Both men looked dead, Daniel all the more with blood running freely, gradually staining his white shirt and with bruises new and old standing out in sharp contrast to the paleness of his skin. A quick scan of the room - the chains, the blood, the bandages - gave them the details of the story Nefreyu had not been able to share. Teal’c reached out a hand to gently pull the younger man out of O’Neill’s tight protective embrace.

“No….” Lya dropped down on the other side of the unconscious humans, her hands drifting over them as she assessed the situation and transmitted the information to her family. It was worse than Antaeus had imagined.

“They are still joined and in battle against Klorel….” Antaeus warned somberly.

Teal’c looked from one to the other of them in confusion, his doubt clearly evident as he glanced from Klorel to each of the Nox in turn.

Antaeus sighed. “This is the Place of Dreams. For our people it is the repository of the…spirits of our people for generations. Klorel’s evil has tainted the Place - and it has judged. Those who have been most wronged must defeat him. Their actions within will decide their fate.”

 

 

 

Chapter 17

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
  The lowing herd winds slowly o’er the lea, 
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
  And leaves the world to darkness and to me

 

~ Thomas Gray

~*~

 

 

‘I’m getting way too old for this…’ George muttered to himself as they stood at the edge of the valley now containing the Nox city.

The place was massive, easily the size of Manhattan Island. It had been an awesome and horrifying sight, watching the city begin to fall with an acceleration that surely would have imploded it as it reached the surface. Even as they had broken into a run toward it, the descent had slowed into something slightly more seemingly controlled. As they had topped the crest of the hill near the ha’tak, the city had landed, causing a shudder beneath their feet that had brought them all to a halt.

Even now dust was still settling, great chunks of buildings sliding to the ground with echoing thumps that only heightened the eerie silence.

Griff and Pierce were scouting to the east while Feretti and Narim did the same to the west. The chasm between the bluff where they stood and the city was far too wide to cross. Their only hope was that it was closer elsewhere, or there was some path that would take them into the valley where they could climb down and enter at the lower levels.

Omoc and Jacob stood nearby, expressions as full of concern and dark possibilities as George was sure his own was. Janet Fraiser sat just behind them, rechecking the contents of her pack for the third time since they had arrived. It was clear she expected her skills to be necessary once they found a way in.

‘And I’m afraid she’s right….’

The situation had to have been pretty dire for SG1 to feel it necessary to bring the city down. As far as George could tell, all power had been cut, not even a light showed in the buildings or in the streets.

George sighed in frustration, looking over at Omoc and Jacob.

“We’ll find them….”

Omoc nodded, his eyes asking the question he refrained from speaking out loud; it was unnecessary, they were all thinking it...

They would find SG1, but in what condition?

A noise from the city startled them all. Power was returning, lights were coming on in scattered windows and an audible hum sputtered a moment before settling into a stronger rhythm. Someone was working on the power. But was it Klorel and his jaffa? Or SG1 and the Nox?

Jacob nodded to the west where Narim and Feretti were returning at a run. George had known Feretti long enough to decipher the man’s body language and right now it was determined; they had found a way in.

 

~*~

 

Sam grinned at the Nox technicians as the power came back on and quickly settled into its former efficient operation. The group of Nox Sam had dubbed the clean-up crew moved into action then, their bodies fairly thrumming as they reached out with their own kind of power. Sam knew Klorel’s jaffa were disappearing all over the city, being safely tucked away until the situation could be assessed and they knew if Klorel was alive or dead; either way they had promised Teal’c the jaffa would have the chance for freedom if they should choose it.

Phineus looked up with a grim expression. “You are needed above now.”

‘Oh, damn… ’

Sam nodded and accepted Phineus’ choice of a guide to lead her to her friends. As they moved out at a fast jog, Sam berated herself for allowing the elation of the moment to blind her to the possibility the colonel and Daniel might not come out of this as miraculously whole as the city and the Nox seemed to have. She had no way of knowing anything, certainly not in the way the Nox did, but she had learned enough in the past few days to read the formerly inscrutable and serene expressions of the Nox; this was going to be bad.

Following her guide up to the next level, Sam swallowed hard against the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Her friends had to be okay; they had to. They were a team, they were family - nothing less was acceptable. She had just managed to convince herself she believed her own brave words when they rounded a corner to see - her father. Drawing closer she saw others, Janet and half of SG2, Feretti, Narim and Omoc, and - most shocking of all - Hammond.

Sam’s already shaky control barely held as she stopped to salute her commander, then almost splintered completely as her father stepped forward to hug her close. Only the sad-wise eyes of her Nox guide kept her grounded in the moment, in the duty that was far more important than the quiet breakdown she promised herself later - when her team was whole and safe.

With a deep breath she stepped back from her father, though not completely out of his comforting arms, and reported to Hammond. “I’ll explain everything on the way, sir, but right now the colonel and Daniel are in trouble. We need to move.”

~*~

 

It was dark.

‘It’s always dark in these things…’ Jack mused, feeling around in an effort to get his bearings. The last thing he remembered was….

“Daniel!”

His hand met up with a solid form even as he heard a low moan that told him whose body he had found.

“Daniel?”

“Hmmm….Jack?” The voice was low, Jack figured Daniel was probably just as disoriented as he was.

Memory flooded back in a rush: Klorel, ribbon device, Daniel, blood, ghosts in the walls….

“Wish the hell we had some light in here.” Almost on the heels of the last syllable, there was light; grey swirling light, but it was light.

Jack decided not to question the source and moved to Daniel’s side. His friend looked - okay. Too okay. Even now Daniel was sitting up and running a hand across his chest, peeking down the collar of his shirt and looking back up in confusion.

“What the….?”

Jack did not need to look to know the broad stripes of Klorel’s beating were gone; Daniel’s face was completely unmarked, the bruises and gashes completely healed.

Or not.

Jack looked around them as he helped Daniel to his feet. There was only grey mist around them, no walls, no Nox-y décor. “I’m thinking…” he began.

“Not Kansas,” Daniel completed the thought with a nod, using one of Jack’s favorite analogies.

With a smile Jack nodded. “Not even close. Last thing I remember, Klorel was acting like the devil was after his ass and then everything…”

“Glowed.” Daniel agreed. “More than that, I think I saw Connor.”

Jack knew exactly what Daniel meant. It had been Connor, not Klorel, just before his ‘spirit’ had moved into the walls and all that had been left of Klorel was the terrified snake looking death in the eye.

“So where the hell are we?”

Daniel shook his head, wandering off a few steps and starting to pace in a way Jack had feared never to see again. “I don’t think we’re anywhere, Jack…”

“That’s…unhelpful. We are ‘here’ wherever here is.”

With a breathy laugh, Daniel raised one finger - a gesture Jack recognized as his usual prelude to saying something he knew Jack was going to have trouble swallowing.

“Can’t you feel it, Jack?” Daniel moved closer to lay his hand on Jack’s arm, opening up the connection between them until Jack could feel - pain. A distant pain that led far away from where they were and back to…

“Mutual dream?”

“Not this time.” Daniel sounded sure, too sure, and Jack moaned as he started to understand what was going on.

“The stuff from the walls?”

Daniel nodded, studying the mist around them. “I think so. I think our…spirits…have been trapped in here, just like we saw the others pulled in.”

Jack scrubbed his face with his free hand; it felt ‘real.’ “Why? We were alive, at least I was. Unless you…?”

Daniel smiled tiredly. “No, at least I don’t think so. If I really concentrate I can feel my - body - breathing, it’s not in great shape, but it’s still alive.”

Suppressing a shudder at the detached way Daniel was assessing the condition of a body he was apparently barely attached to anymore, Jack tried to reconnect to his own. There was a vague feeling of heaviness, of breath moving in and out, of another body held tightly to his own - but it was so far away.

“Damn…”

“Yeah…”

With a swallow, Jack touched Daniel’s shoulder. “You’ll die if we don’t go back soon.” He had no idea why he was so sure; he just was. The way things were the Nox could not help them and Daniel’s body would slowly complete the process of shutting down that Klorel’s final beating had started.

Daniel grimaced tightly, nodding confirmation even as his mind moved on to another tangent. “So what are we here for? And if we do it, do we get to go back?”

Jack shrugged helplessly. They were very much in the dark on this one. “Where’s an oracle when you need one?”

A chiming noise preceded the appearance of a Nox, or rather a stone statue of a Nox about the size of the garden elves Jack had once seen at Home Depot.

Daniel met Jack’s look with a grin. “I think we need to be careful what we say here…”

Returning the smile, Jack nodded then looked down as the statue started to glow.

“All must be put right. The evil must be turned. Good must prevail.” The garden elf disappeared with a popping noise.

“Oh, and that’s supposed to help…?” Jack muttered to the mists, but he was getting a really bad feeling that he knew exactly what the elf had meant.

Daniel’s face had gone three shades whiter and Jack could feel a ripple of dread pass through their connection.

“What?”

Daniel licked his lips as he looked intently into the mist surrounding them.

“Klorel is out there.”

 

~*~

 

Darkness felt free.

For the first time in its existence, it was unfettered by the need for a physical vessel. It felt wonderful; the need to defeat a slave’s consciousness in order to express his own was gone. Instant response to desire with no barriers.

All goa’uld should be so free.

But there was also danger in the mists: danger in the form of a Light that would destroy it, or chain it to a physical form once again.

The Light had to be destroyed.

Darkness would not go back.

 

 

Chapter 18

Not heaven itself upon the past has power;
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.

 

~ John Dryden

~*~

 

 

The humans rushed in on a wave of grave concern. Opher could feel each one of them as they took in the condition of their comrades and processed the evidence of what had happened here.

The female physician tenderly stroked the side of Daniel’s face, her expression one of horror and outrage as complete understanding of all her friend had been through settled over her before her need to heal took precedence and she turned to the task. Lya settled near her and quietly began to explain the condition of both men, and the reasons why they had to remain in the Place. It was to the woman’s credit that she accepted it all after a nod of confirmation from Teal’c and Carter.

The others moved away to allow the physician room to work; her medicine could at least help the men’s physical injuries while O’Neill and Daniel were occupied - elsewhere.

Opher had felt them just before the other humans arrived. Trying to reestablish a connection to their bodies then realizing they could not until they had proven themselves to the Place. It was not their fault; the Place was literally the embodiment of the Nox way - a way that had existed and prospered for generations. The Place understood no other way, and would not until more of their people began to feel as Lya, Antaeus, Opher and now Nefreyu felt. There was a need for the Nox way to grow and evolve yet again. Their peaceful existence could no longer be bought at the price that was being paid by beings who had earned the cruel attention of the goa’uld by aiding others to freedom.

On the edge of his consciousness, Opher could still feel O’Neill and Daniel - fear, acceptance, gentle humor; both were dealing with the situation in their own unique way. O’Neill feared for his friend’s life; Daniel feared failing and taking his friend with him into death - and both were trying to hide their fears with little success. Opher smiled slightly, Lya and Antaeus had been most correct when they described the bond between these humans as something close to their own.

The human soldiers were gathered around Klorel, discussing how he had come to possess the one called ‘Connor.’ Hammond was visibly upset; this had been another under his responsibility - just as O’Neill and his group were. The man’s sorrow was palpable and old; this was not the first time he had felt so, and Hammond accepted it would not be the last. The Tok’ra, Jacob, let a hand linger on Hammond’s shoulder, sharing his friend’s sorrow and the burden of familiarity with such pain.

The younger humans were securing Klorel’s hands and feet with strange devices from their packs, while the other, Griff, kept watch with a drawn weapon. Opher could have told them it was unnecessary, but the activity was helping the humans cope and he saw no harm in letting them continue to believe Klorel would return to this body in any condition to do them harm. The only real mystery in Opher’s mind was whether O’Neill and Daniel would hold fast to their friendship and honor, and be allowed to return.

His friends of the Tollan were standing with Antaeus and Carter. Opher noted many lingering looks from Narim directed toward the Earth woman and smiled, it had been so long since he had looked upon young love. It was a most welcome sight amidst the tragedy that had come to dwell in the Place.

 

~*~

 

With a last injection into Daniel’s IV - this one of a strong antibiotic - Janet sat back on her heels and watched the two unconscious men. The word coma did not begin to describe the state they were in; they looked like they were already dead.

Lya had done her best to explain everything that had happened, but Janet simply could not conceive of two ‘souls’ joined. She had seen too many things in her tenure within the profession to deny the existence of a soul, but neither had she ever been called upon to treat a wounded one - much less two. She could only tend to the physiological symptoms and hope the Nox, and the colonel and Doctor Jackson themselves, could take care of the rest.

Daniel was the worst off with broken ribs, extensive contusions and bruising, a sprained wrist, and likely other internal damage from the beating and from hanging so long from the chains Feretti had torn down some time earlier in a fit of frustration; no one had minded.

Of greater concern was the fever raging through Daniel’s body. Lya had told her it had begun soon after the first separation crisis and worsened after the second. Janet had no idea what the source might be and had no means to run the extensive tests necessary to find out; she could only treat it as she would a more mundane variety of infection - and pray.

The colonel was in better shape physically, with some rough bruises and swelling around his hands, as if he had been climbing recently. He lay so still beside Daniel with the younger man’s head resting against his chest on the soft mattress Antaeus had directed to be brought for them. Janet had seen many eyes grow damp as they had transferred their two friends from the floor onto the more comfortable padding of the mattress, trying so carefully not to allow their friends to lose contact with one another.

The Nox had been most inconspicuously kind; things just seemed to appear when needed, chairs, cots, food. Even her larger medical equipment had appeared sometime in the afternoon when she had been too busy to properly notice or thank whoever had brought it.

Janet was as much concerned for the other half of SG1 as she was about the two on the bed. Teal’c and Sam were hovering constantly, trying to stay out the way, but adamantly refusing to stray more than a dozen feet away from their friends and teammates. It was clear to Janet that both of them were feeling guilty for not protecting their friends well enough from - everything.

Throughout the afternoon the entire story had been told from every viewpoint. From the moment the image of Lya had lured SG1 out of their beds, or wherever they had been, to the gateroom and directly into Klorel’s trap, to the caves, to the moment they were separated after freeing the Nox prisoners; the story had been told in full. Janet had watched the faces around her as the story unfolded, varying degrees of disbelief were displayed, followed just as quickly by acceptance and sympathy as Nefreyu told them what he had seen the night before up until the moment Daniel and the colonel had sent him away.

It was an incredible story of courage and friendship and the depths to which the goa’uld could sink. Janet could not help but note the reflective expression on the faces of the two Tollan who had gone above and beyond their own simple instructions to help the rescue team get here. The Nox family who obviously no longer felt the very young should only do as they were told. Although it seemed a small victory in comparison to the physical reminder before them that the battle continued, Janet did view it as a victory. She hoped the two who had inspired it would get the chance to see if their example would grow beyond ‘thinking’ into ‘doing.’

She fully intended to do everything in her power to make sure they did.

 

~*~

 

Sam slept against his knee, having finally given in to the weariness of her body and letting her exhaustion overtake her as her father stroked her hair.

‘Nice to know the old man still has some uses…’ Jacob thought, a wave of concern washing over him as he remembered Sam’s horrified expression when they had entered the room to see the chains, the blood, and both her teammates lying there so still.

‘She will be fine. They will be fine.’ Selmak reassured softly.

Jacob laughed bitterly within his mind. ‘I wish I could be as sure as you seem to be, Selmak.’

Selmak touched his host’s mind in a fond caress. ‘She is your daughter, Jacob.’

Jacob had to agree with that. ‘And them?’

‘They are human, the most stubborn I have ever known in a race overrun with stubbornness. They will not give up.’

‘Can’t argue with that, ’ Jacob answered ruefully, having observed the two poster boys for obstinance in support of their cause in full three-D action on more than one occasion.

It had grown dark not long before and the mood in the room had seemed to grow as still as the darkness outside the open wall. Even the usual sort of night noises seemed unwilling to intrude on the solitude of their shared moment, reluctant to disturb the focused energy of so many as they willed their stubborn friends to pull one more rabbit out of their overused hat and survive.

Selmak had been very quietly concerned since Opher had finally admitted to George, Omoc and Jacob that Klorel was pure goa’uld spirit within the walls. The evil that was the goa’uld was now distilled into its purest form and unfettered - the prospect of facing such a creature frightened even the elder Tok’ra.

There was very little in Selmak’s mind that would or could redeem the goa’uld, and only the limits of their human hosts made possible the hope they could be defeated. The limits of the host were one of their few weaknesses - that and their massive egos. Without those limits, the evil would have no reason to contain itself. Having been treated to a vacation on Naetu, both Jacob and Selmak knew exactly how far a goa’uld single-mindedly dedicated to exploring its dark side would go. One without even the restrictions of physical form could invade minds and spirits without mercy, destroying a man - or two men - on the most basic of levels.

Jacob barely controlled the shudder running through him at the thought. Jack and Daniel would get through this. They had to and for that reason alone, they would.

A feeling of being watched caused Jacob to look up, into the eyes of his oldest friend. George was smiling slightly, paternally, at the sight of the second in command of his premiere team sleeping soundly on her father’s knee. Jacob just shrugged. If he were breaking a dozen regulations he was not concerned, he would not trade the moment for a dozen tel’taks even with a fleet of death gliders thrown into the bargain. George just smiled wider, his nod expressing complete agreement. His smile faded as his gaze moved to the two unconscious men on the makeshift bed.

Jacob was not at all surprised to see the paternal look deepen; he had figured out a long time ago that George was the sort of commander who would learn to love and be loved by his command. Every loss, every gain, was experienced by all and none so greatly as George himself, who felt personally responsible for every single one of them. Jacob had also been around the SGC enough to realize that Jack and Daniel between them were enough to raise the paternal instinct to distinct new levels. O’Neill was the problem child, always tearing off and getting himself into hot water with the best of intentions; good at what he did, but occasionally needing a good dressing down to keep his head on straight.

And Daniel?

God knew Jacob himself had fallen victim to the young man’s lost puppy eyes and open sincerity more than once. Jacob had even gone so far as to ask Sam once to confirm his suspicions that Daniel had a troupe of personnel subconsciously willing and able to fit the role without even realizing they were doing it. Sam had grinned and admitted she was ‘big sister number one’ and dared anyone to try to take her place. It was not that Daniel was in any way child-like or seemingly in need of familial protection, he was just himself; too bright, too dedicated, too outspoken, and too damn loyal for his own good sometimes. Daniel was the gifted child who had no idea how much his gifts differentiated him from the rest of the family. The one who could not imagine why the family was always so worried about him as he blithely moved along in his world of heavy concepts and more knowledge than one person should be expected to hold in one head.

‘They have to make it, Selmak. Much as I love giving Jack grief over stomping around out here, we need them.’

 

~*~

 

The humans were an enigma.

Faced with such grave circumstances, they nonetheless seemed to be working diligently to keep up each other’s spirits. In fact, the elder one seemed to be quite enamored of the ability to change his environment, had in fact summoned a large bathtub into which he jokingly threatened to immerse the younger.

The young one had seemed singularly unimpressed by the threats and, though he smiled at his friend’s antics, anxiously continued to scan the mists for the danger the Place knew he could sense. The elder sensed it as well, but seemed to regard the distraction of the younger as a much higher priority.

Even without the aid of the older man’s conjured icon, the Place was sure the two would have discerned their situation quite quickly. They also realized the younger man’s body was dying and time grew short for them to succeed in their task.

The most intriguing thing of all was the passion with which the two agreed to commit themselves to the task of succeeding. As impossible as the task seemed, as frightened as they were, they clearly had no intentions of giving up.

The older man was playing now, bringing a reluctant smile to the young one’s face by altering his clothing. The Place had no frame of reference for Earth human wardrobe but the choices seemed odd. A suit of metal which made the young one laugh, billowing robes of rough cloth that made him smile so sadly, and finally a suit of comfortable clothing that seemed almost like their own, grey breeches and white tunic of some rough woven material. As a return of the favor the young man imagined the older in a pair of faded blue breeches and a black over-jacket that shined when he moved.

Both men sat back against the soft chairs the elder had brought forth, and the elder spoke clearly into the mists. “We’re ready, bring it on.”

The bravado was most touching, but the Place was quite sure neither man could begin to be prepared for what was to come.

The Darkness was close, and almost ready to strike.

 

 

 

Chapter 19

Iron sleet of arrowy shower
Hurtles in the darken’d air.

 

~ Thomas Gray

 

~*~

 

 

It was coming.

Daniel was sure of it.

Coming.

For him.

The pure hate he could feel directed at him was nearly overpowering. Only Jack’s antics, and his steady presence beneath the surface humor, was keeping Daniel from giving in to the very real fear and doubt welling up inside him.

Daniel knew hate.

To his shame, he knew it more intimately than he had ever wanted or expected to know it. For a large portion of his childhood, Daniel had hated everyone and everything his young mind blamed for his parents’ death - including himself. It had taken him a very long time to grow beyond the dark feelings and learn to awkwardly embrace life again in the way his mother and father had taught him. He had still been relearning those vital lessons when he met Sha’re. Over their short time together, the last barriers had fallen away - and he had been at peace.

After Sha’re had been taken, he had fought the returning darkness for a very long time and, with the help of Jack and the team, had succeeded for the most part; he had remembered the good and tried to keep it alive. It had worked - with a few shameful exceptions - until Sha’re died, then by slow painful degrees everything had seemed to fall apart. Losing Sha’re, the hope that had kept him going for so long, had left him drifting - anchorless and directionless - on a sea of confused purpose.

He had tried to maintain the illusion that nothing had changed, had forced it all so deep inside he had almost believed it himself.

But everything had changed.

Where once he had never doubted his reasons for going through the stargate and meeting each new challenge and danger head-on for the sake of the ‘greater good,’ now every moment seemed to bring its own particular doubt. He doubted himself, doubted the efforts of the program, and the constant state of exhaustion they all seemed to operate under only made it harder to believe they were really making a difference out here at all. Circumstances had seemed to separate him from his only remaining family and for the first time in years, he had felt alone, completely and utterly alone. It was not a feeling he was comfortable with any longer.

Four years had given him a support system of people he had learned to care about, people who accepted him - quirks and all - and had come to value his companionship as much as he did theirs. Edora had been the first crack in the facade, followed so closely by the undercover operation to catch Maybourne, then the appendix attack had placed him on the sidelines as his team faced one of the greatest threats Earth or the Asgard had ever known. Nothing had seemed the same after the others had returned.

Jack’s hand on his shoulder interrupted Daniel’s thoughts, a light pressure that made him look up to meet the sad regret in his friend’s eyes. The connection between them opened and Daniel knew he was wrong. It - the indefinable connection between the team - had not changed, they had. They had grown and been shaped by all they had been through over the past four years. They were no longer the same people.

Jack had also closed himself off a lot from the early days, too many close calls with the friends he had come to view as more than family, too many times thinking that one or more of them were dead, and Jack had withdrawn emotionally thinking the connection no longer needed attending. He had learned later how wrong that assumption had been, when it had almost been too late for all of them.

The image of their haunted faces, starved and bedraggled after days of running, flashed into Daniel’s mind. Their last mission. He could feel Jack’s emotions so clearly, the affection, the regret, the overwhelming sense of responsibility for leading them into the seemingly hopeless situation in the first place.

“Jack, no…” Daniel instinctively sought to correct his friend’s erroneous thought.

None of them blamed Jack, they all knew the risks inherent with every mission and accepted it as part of the job; as much a part of the job as the inevitable conflicts that came about when their consistently divergent philosophies set them apart. It had seemed to happen more often lately, Daniel thought, but he realized it really had not. Euronda had brought a lot of issues to the forefront, but the basic reality of who they were had not changed.

“Never will…” Jack smiled sadly.

Daniel could feel his friend’s sadness pulsing in time to his own. Growing pains, could it be as simple as that?

With a snort, Jack offered up his best sarcastic grin. “Simple? Us?”

Daniel had to laugh then. “No…of course not. What was I thinking?”

“See, that’s why you need me…”

The tone was teasing but Daniel could feel the warmth of Jack’s emotions washing through the connection and diving straight into his weary soul, easing away the fear and doubt. He knew things were a long way from back to the way they had been; he was not really sure they could ever recapture that more naïve place and time again, but the distance seemed much shorter than it had for a very long time. He did need Jack in his life, more now than ever before - not just because of the artificial bonds between them but because of the real ones.

Daniel looked up and met Jack’s concerned gaze, felt his eyes fill with emotion he had no words to fully express.

“I know…” Jack whispered roughly.

And Daniel knew it was true.

It was enough.

 

~*~

 

Darkness prowled the borders of the area of warmth the two humans had created; the very air was thick with the sickening emotion.

How could they be so calm in the face of all the chaos surrounding them? Did they not realize the young one lay near death beyond this place? Did they not realize Darkness now lived only to complete the task of destroying them?

They soon would learn.

Circling once again, Darkness probed at the barrier, seeking even a small weakness that would grant him access to the young one. He knew there were weaknesses, he could feel them pulsing like small undercurrents beneath the outwardly calm surface.

There!

Darkness sensed a disharmony, a carrier wave leading directly to a wound that was still open. The young one doubted himself, doubted the strength that had always guided his conviction, doubted the conviction he now felt was tainted by his hatred.

Doubt was the key to defeating Daniel Jackson.

Darkness had its weapon.

Now it was ready to attack.

 

~*~

 

Janet Fraiser was a lot more concerned than she was letting on.

George had known her for several years now, had learned to read the subtle clues of eyes and mouth and hands that told him when his CMO was stewing over something privately - and trying very hard not to let anyone see it. Letting his gaze track from Fraiser to the two men lying so still beside her, George noted how both seemed to be getting paler by the moment, somehow even more distant from them than they already were.

The possibility of Jack and Doctor Jackson - Daniel - dying right in front of them without so much as a word was impossible for George to contemplate. The two men were just too good at coming back - even from death. To George's mind, it could not happen. Not like this.

There was too much yet to be done out here and both men, for reasons as unique as the men themselves, were very much necessary to achieving it. Without even realizing how much the two were affecting the future of two of their allied planets at this very moment. George had watched the two Tollan throughout the long trip, and now he could see similar expressions of deep thought on the faces of the Nox who had been with his people from the beginning. Whether anything actually came of it or not, this situation had forced the Tollan and Nox, at least some of them, into thinking beyond their planetary policies - putting faces and pain to the abstracts they so often quoted in defense of their inaction. The two men, one of them so obviously tortured and ill, the other likely to die along with his friend if they could not defeat the essence of goa’uld evil Opher said hunted them within the nether world that supposedly existed in this room. The two men who were now the focus of every drop of energy they could all concentrate through their eyes and spirits, willing their friends to live through this and continue on as part of their lives.

The room was as quiet as a gravesite, the mood every bit as somber. Teal’c sat near the pillar where they had first seen Jack and Daniel, obviously trying to meditate but failing repeatedly as his eyes snapped open to rest once again on his teammates. Major Carter had finally given in to her exhaustion and fallen asleep with her head on Jacob’s knee. It was a sight familiar from happier times long past for all of them and it made George sigh at the memories - and the almost-wish that they could return to the relative innocence of those long gone days. The Nox family huddled together on the other side of the mattress, the boy similarly asleep between his parents. Narim and Omoc sat somewhat apart, not speaking in words but clearly deeply concerned and just as deeply in thought. Feretti, Pierce, and Griff - not surprisingly preferring action to endless waiting - had gone off to help the other Nox restore what they could of their city. One or more of them dropped by at regular intervals to check if there were any changes even though the Nox could and would communicate any news in the literal blink of an eye.

George swore all of his people would be treated to a long overdue vacation once this was all over. They had more than earned it. In fact, he might even …

A sharp inhalation from Fraiser focused all eyes on the bed to watch helplessly as she reached for the portable heart monitor and began attaching the leads to Daniel’s chest. The discordant beep told its own story; Daniel was losing the fight.

 

~*~

 

“Dammit…” Jack muttered the imprecation for what seemed like the tenth time in as many minutes.

Daniel was fading with every passing second. The mists had closed in on them, and despite Jack’s best efforts to hold on Daniel kept closing off on him.

The assault alternated between a solid form, waves of sickly black-green energy hitting them with the force of a flood tide, and mental bursts Jack could feel down to his incorporeal toes.

It had been during one of the mental attacks that Daniel had suddenly jerked roughly at the connection and closed himself off. Despite their earlier words and shared thoughts, when push had come to shove, Daniel had resorted to the new tactic of trying to stand alone. Knowing he had helped establish the tactic just made things worse for Jack.

“Daniel, please…”

Daniel - at least the representation of it that he could see beyond the swirling colors surrounding where he knelt a few feet away - shook his head. “No, Jack, I won’t be the reason you…” Daniel’s words ended in a sharp gasp of pain as he dropped limply to rest on his knees, head dropping to his forearms in a gesture of ultimate pain - and defeat.

Jack launched himself against the barrier futilely. The darkness was not interested in him and - unless Daniel reached out - Jack could do nothing but watch as his friend was assaulted once again. Anger rose up in him.

There had to be a way in, a way to help; he just had to think….

 

~*~

 

This was worse than the dissolution. Worse than no longer knowing who or what he was.

He knew - all too well.

And what he was…

Disgusted him.

He had known he had changed, would have been totally blind not to know. But now, looking at the reflections of himself in the mists…

His soul was black and unrecognizable.

He was no longer who he had always thought he was - was no longer sure he ever had been. His entire life had been a lie and he wanted only to let it end, to keep Jack away so he could not see the truth and hate him. So Jack would not be pulled into his sin and be consumed by it.

It hurt so much.

Letting go was so foreign a concept to him….

But he had to.

For Jack.

 

Part 5