nightspear | Translations (4/19)

Title: Translations (Table of Contents)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine. I gain nothing of material value from this.
Pairings: Gen.

XXXXX
Chapter 4: Translations
XXXXX

14 October 1997; SGC, Earth

Daniel had held a fountain pen before, but the ink in that one had been dry for years, so he had never actually written with one. This one felt odd in his hand, but he admitted that it was much easier to use than the reed or apid pens from home.

Paper was more familiar--sheets like the ones on the base had been in short supply back home, but all the Earth books and notebooks had been inked on paper. That had been precious on Abydos, the irreplaceable bits of the legendary world of their ancestors that he couldn't allow to be destroyed by sand or weather or carelessness. Paper was easy to get used to--even the sheets they had to make by hand back home had the same shape and function as the sheets here, though they felt different against his fingers.

Seeing how much around the base was printed on some kind of paper or another (he'd known, logically, that America and Earth were like this, but it still surprised him a little to see sheets and sheets actually spilling out of noisy machines with blinking lights), it made sense that one empty book didn't seem like much to anybody else.

"Don't mention it," Sam said when he thanked her for the notebook she had given him. "It's no big deal."

"But it is," he told her.

"What do you mean?"

He'd grown up watching books being filled with notes about culture and new languages, and when the notebooks were full, there had been scrolls. He was the one in the alien culture now. He had to take notes, because...because it was better than...it was just better. Taking notes was something he knew how to do.

Daniel shrugged to Sam. She looked curious but didn't ask again.

After dinner in the commissary with Sam and Captain-Doctor Frasier (just Dr. Fraiser is fine, she'd said, or just Janet, which was starting to become confusing, because how was he supposed to know whom he was allowed to call by a given name and who was supposed to be Ma'am or Doctor or Mister or Sir or Captain?), he'd gone back to see Teal'c. Sam and Janet said it was okay as long as they stuck to language lessons. He wasn't sure what else they might stick to, but he agreed because it seemed to make them happier.

In any case, Teal'c had seemed mildly surprised to see him alone. After only a few minutes of trying not to let his eyes drift to the hidden pouch where he knew the infant Goa'uld was, he'd started to wish he had asked Jack or Sam to come with him, but it would have just made him seem more like a child to them, and he had to prove to them that he wasn't. He knew he wasn't doing a very good job of it so far.

Besides, they were busy. Daniel and Teal'c were probably the only people on the base who weren't busy with something, and both of them only weren't because they weren't allowed to be. He wasn't really afraid that Teal'c would harm him, anyway. Being alone with him was just...unnerving in some vague and indescribable way.

Teal'c was a surprisingly good teacher, and by the time he'd learned that "kek" really did mean what he suspected, Daniel found himself almost relaxing--this was familiar. He took notes using a phonetic hieroglyphic system, since Teal'c said it was the most common of the many writing systems used in Goa'uld (though not without variants of its own). The only real way to learn to speak was to practice, but he could at least study the written notes when he was on his own. It wasn't as though he had much else to do, anyway.

The best part had been the few minutes they'd spent speaking in Abydonian--well, Egyptian, he should say, because Teal'c spoke a different dialect from any of the ones on Abydos, but they came from the same source in Egypt. The dialects were mutually intelligible, even, and though the words had a different lilt to them, they were so achingly familiar it was like being home again, just for a moment.

Daniel switched reluctantly back into English, though. "We should practice it, to blend in with the Tau'ri," he said.

Teal'c looked curious at that. "You do not consider yourself of the Tau'ri?"

"No. I'm not really from here, not the way they are."

"But you align yourself with them against the Goa'uld."

It was a strange way to think of it, since he didn't actually have another option, but he supposed that, given a choice, he should be working against the Goa'uld. Teal'c was right--helping the Tau'ri was the best way to do that, or at least the best he knew of. Skaara would have done so, if he'd had the chance, with all his stories about Captain Jack O'Neill (Colonel now, which was important because it conveyed more authority than Captain), who had freed them all from Ra. That had to count for something.

"Yes," Daniel said finally. "I align myself with the Tau'ri."

Later, he learned what kelno'reem was.

"It is similar to a state of hibernation," Teal'c said.

"And then you don't have to sleep?" Daniel said, envious.

"I do not."

"Is there a special ritual for it? Or do you just...meditate?"

Teal'c sat on the floor, his legs folded under himself, as if to demonstrate. Daniel imitated his movements and his posture. "There is no need for ritual, Daniel Jackson. There are methods that may be employed to enhance focus and concentration, but they are unnecessary once you have learned to calm your mind."

Daniel left his eyes open and chewed his lip, thinking. "Why do you always call me 'Daniel Jackson?'"

"Is that not what you call yourself?" Teal'c said.

"It is, but most people just say my first name. Daniel." Or Dan'yel. People said it wrong here.

"Then what is the purpose of having two names?"

"You don't have to say both of them," he clarified. "'Daniel' is the name I was given when I was born. 'Jackson' is my family's name."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "I do not understand. Do you wish not to acknowledge your family?"

That surprised him into silence for a while, and when he found his voice again, he heard himself say, more subdued, "I do. Of course I do. You can call me Daniel Jackson if you want."

Teal'c nodded once. Taking in Daniel's position on the floor, he asked, "Do you seek to perform kelno'reem?"

For a moment, Daniel almost wanted to say 'yes,' just to try it. But then, with night falling and the hallway outside emptier than usual, he felt suddenly (and guiltily) nervous about being alone with the Jaffa, in a closed room, in near darkness, and in a state of hibernation. He thought he liked Teal'c, but it was hard not to shiver when he looked up occasionally and saw light glinting off the serpent brand of Apophis. Whether or not he blamed Teal'c for what he'd done while enslaved to a Goa'uld, images of the attack that had brought them to Chulak were difficult to erase from his mind when they were no longer occupied teaching and learning a new language. Daniel remembered that night, but he couldn't look at the memory too closely or--

He couldn't. And it didn't matter. Things had happened. Teal'c had been involved...but he'd helped them escape, too. Daniel wasn't stupid; he knew what Teal'c had risked for that. Maybe intent mattered more. Enough, anyway.

For now.

"Uh, maybe some other time," Daniel said, averting his eyes, because just thinking something couldn't make his stomach stop clenching in fear. "I think...I think maybe...I'll go to my own room, now."

Teal'c inclined his head. "Then lek tol, Daniel Jackson."

Daniel rose to his feet and gave a short bow in return. "Good-bye. Lek tol."

There wasn't a lock outside his own door, not like there was on Teal'c's, but that didn't make the quarters seem any less closed in. There was someone guarding the door, but Sam had assured him that was for his own safety, at least until General Hammond could give him identification that would let him access parts of the base. Her assurance didn't erase the feeling that he was always being watched, but no one bothered him, so he didn't complain.

The room was...well, not totally quiet. He could pretend the soft, artificial buzz that came from the direction of the lights was the chatter of insects outside, or that the air blowing through the holes in the wall (vents, they were called, like ventus, le vent, el viento) was the soft sound of a breeze rustling cloth and sand.

But there were no sounds of people sleeping nearby, so he sat in the corner and read his notes on Goa'uld to himself, turning the pages loudly and listening to the sound of the words so he could pretend he wasn't sitting alone.

It would have been hard to fall asleep, anyway. Days were short here, and he wasn't tired at all by the time everyone seemed to have gone home or gone to bed.

Besides, he'd tried sleeping last night. It hadn't lasted long, and he wasn't looking forward to it again.

XXXXX

15 October 1997; SGC, Earth; 0900 hrs

The odd hours made Daniel groggy the next morning, sitting in Sam's laboratory (on a stool, because sitting on the floor only made him seem more alien to everyone else) and alternately reading about stars and scribbling in the notebook out of boredom.

He looked up when there was a knock on the door. Sam didn't seem to notice, and he debated for a moment trying to catch her attention. He needn't have worried, however, because the person in the hallway pushed the door open without waiting for a response.

The dark-haired man at the door wore glasses, like Sergeant Siler did sometimes. Many people here wore glasses; back home, glasses were special, something Daniel had only ever seen one person wear. This man was older than Bolaa or Skaara but younger than Jack--maybe Sam's age--and he held his head low instead of walking in with confidence, like Daniel's brothers would have.

Deferring to a higher member of the group, Daniel thought, mentally fitting the new arrival into the SGC hierarchy that he was still struggling to understand.

Sure enough, the man's voice was timid when he said, "Excuse me, I'm looking for Dr. Sam Carter. Do you know where I can find him?"

Sam finally turned toward the door. "I'm Sam Carter. Can I help you?"

"Oh, I, er...sorry," the man stammered. "I heard 'Sam' and I assumed...sorry. I'm Robert Rothman. I was told to...uh, report to you."

Daniel stayed where he was seated, content to observe and see what Dr. Rothman was like. Sam was standing now and extended an arm. "Dr. Rothman. I hope your trip was all right." Rothman shifted a folder to the crook of his left arm, presumably to clasp Sam's arm in return, but the folder dropped before they could exchange the gesture of greeting, paper spilling onto the floor.

Daniel watched, bemused, as both of them dropped to their haunches to pick up the scattered sheets, exclaiming "Sorry" and "No, my fault" and "No, no, let me" over each other. Eventually, the papers were gathered, if somewhat more haphazardly than they'd been before. They'd missed a few sheets, however, which had drifted close to where Daniel sat, so he put his book down and picked them up.

"You missed these," Daniel told them as he carried the sheets over, but he wasn't sure whether to offer them to Rothman or Sam. The papers had pictures of hieroglyphs on them, though, so he decided to push them toward Rothman, who Jack said studied Egypt.

Rothman didn't take them, however, giving Daniel a few moments to take a closer look at the pictures. "Hi," the man finally said, raising the pitch at the end of the word like a question. "Um...who are you?"

This time, it was Daniel who was too distracted to answer. He frowned at a familiar sheet with his own handwriting on it and glanced up at Sam. He paged through the other two sheets he held. "These are... Sam?"

"Dr. Carter?" Rothman said.

"Right," Sam said. "Dr. Rothman, thank you for looking those over. This is the person whose writing you see on the translations. He did the first draft, as it were."

"You mean he translated these?" The deference Rothman showed for Sam was gone when he looked disbelievingly at Daniel through his thick glasses.

"Yes," Daniel answered for himself, narrowing his eyes. "I did. Yesterday. And I thought you said you weren't testing me, Sam."

Rothman blinked. "I didn't know this was a test, Dr. Carter." The man's head swung from Sam to Daniel, looking apologetic but unsure whom he was supposed to be apologetic to. "Um...who is this, by the way?"

"Dan'yel," he replied, then quickly corrected himself, "Daniel Jackson."

That was another strange thing here: constantly hearing his name spoken with an English-speaker's accent, the vowels nasalized, the emphasis shifted, the first consonant less voiced and the final one almost continuous. That used to be just for his parents, and casual English had been spoken only in private; even then, they had used Arabic or Abydonian just as often.

He looked again at Sam, who did still look a little guilty but said, "We have to be careful about everything we do in this facility. I didn't mean for it look like we don't trust your work, either of you, but double-checking can be useful."

Not wanting to whine, Daniel let it go. Rothman was starting to look even more confused than before. "Oh, the, uh, the translation's good, by the way," the man offered. "For the most part."

Daniel felt an indignant frown forming. "What do you mean, 'for the most part?'" He craned his neck a little, trying to peer at the papers the other man held in his arms.

"Well, there's a phrase here..." Rothman put the papers down and was about to shuffle through them when Sam spoke.

"Actually, Dr. Rothman, why don't you hold off on that for a minute. Let me show you to another office where you will be based. We're expecting this place to get more crowded over the next few weeks. If you don't mind, you could continue your discussion there."

Rothman picked the papers back up. "No, no, I don't mind, Dr. Carter."

"Captain Carter," Daniel corrected. It had taken him a while to figure that one out. At first he'd thought the military called her Captain and the scientists called her Doctor, but that wasn't true. Sergeant Siler (who wasn't a doctor even though he was a scientist) called her Captain, but so did Janet (who was a doctor but also a captain), and so did Mr. Levitt (who was a technician but not a doctor or in the military). Daniel had thought it would be easier just to call her both, but Jack said she didn't really like "Captain-Doctor" much.

"That's all right," she said, telling Rothman, "Either one is fine, Dr. Rothman."

Oh. So Daniel's conclusion was still wrong. It was very confusing.

"Are you an archaeologist?" Dr. Rothman asked her.

Sam laughed a little. "Not at all. I'm an astrophysicist, but because of the nature of this facility's work, I won't be surprised if all our departments end up collaborating a bit. I've been with the project longer than most of the scientists here, so I've been asked to show you to your office. You're one of the first to arrive, but I'm sure there'll be more people in your department hired within a short period of time."

"All right," Rothman said, and followed her. Daniel left Sam's book next to one of the computers before trotting to catch up with them, trying to catch a surreptitious look at the notes that Rothman was carrying along with the stack of pictures.

"What's wrong with my translation?" he asked again.

"Well, I wouldn't say wrong, but..." Rothman frowned at him. "No offense, but who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I did those translations, didn't I?" he retorted to avoid answering the question directly. Rothman seemed to notice and looked at Sam for help.

"Does he have, you know, clearance or whatever for this stuff?" he asked as they all stepped into the elevator. Daniel bit his lip impatiently to stop himself from reminding people yet again that, on Abydos, he would have been only a short time away from completing his rite of passage to adulthood.

Sam gave him an apologetic look but nonetheless directed her words to Rothman. "Daniel's a special case. General Hammond has allowed him some access to the labs, but his involvement in particular translation projects will depend on you, and other scientists, when they arrive."

"I was the one who finished the first draft of these translations," Daniel felt obligated to point out. It came out sounding testier than he'd been intending, but he had a right to this one. It was his world and his family at stake--his work, yi shay!

Rothman still looked a little skeptical, but he shrugged.

The office was a room bigger than Daniel's guest quarters but with a desk in the middle and the walls covered with empty shelves. Two large trunks and a bag sat in the corner. "I know you have other things that are being shipped here later," Sam was saying, "but I took the liberty of having the materials you brought with you sent to this room. Let someone know if you need help moving anything."

"Thank you, Dr. Carter," he said, staring around the room, then added, as if to be safe, "Captain."

Sam nodded, then said, "Daniel, Dr. Frasier wants to see you again, sometime before lunch today. Do you remember the way to the infirmary?"

"Yes," Daniel said. He actually only had a vague impression, but he'd probably be able to figure it out. He knew which floor, anyway, and it was a closed base; there was a limit to how lost a person could get when there were people stationed every few meters and he could ask for directions.

"Okay," Sam said, smiling at both of them. "Tell someone if you need anything."

When she'd left, Rothman continued to eye Daniel doubtfully. Daniel kept perfectly still, aware he was being assessed and knowing that if he was found wanting, he wouldn't be allowed in here. Finally, Rothman put down his pile of papers again and began to flip through them. "Well, the phrase I was talking about was this one, here, about the god's territory."

Daniel bent closer to the sheet, squinting, then wrinkled his eyebrows and scoffed, "You're on the wrong page. That's about something hidden and revealed by the sun."

Rothman looked surprised, and he brightened, saying, "You're right. This must be the one I was looking for."

Another test. He sighed, but clamped down on a spike of frustration, because he'd at least passed this one in Rothman's eyes. "What's wrong with it?"

"Well, nothing, specifically, but I think it's too narrow an interpretation," Rothman said.

"It's an accurate interpretation," Daniel argued.

"Well, it could be," Rothman allowed, sounding like he was trying to be patient, "but there are possible alternatives. And that's just based on what we know of Ancient Egyptian culture on Earth; this writing is from a whole different planet. Who knows exactly what these people were like?"

"Are," he retorted, irked. "What they are like."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Rothman agreed absently. "But my point is... Look, see, here. You saw 'netjer' and interpreted it as 'Ra,' which isn't impossible, but it could easily be 'god' in general, or even a different god in particular."

"Later parts talk about the sun," Daniel pointed out. "There are several mentions of the wedjat."

"There are also large breaks between the pieces we have from Dr. Carter's recordings," Rothman said. "It could be a different section about someone else. Without historical context..."

"But we have context," Daniel told him, realizing that Rothman didn't know much about Abydos and its history with Ra, nor did he know who Daniel was. "That's why I was specific: Abydons use that word exclusively to mean Ra. By the way, it's pronounced 'natay,' not 'netjer'."

Rothman straightened. He leaned back in his chair, looking genuinely fascinated. "How do you... You know that for a fact, that Abydos has a history with Ra? Is this that thing with the parasite-alien-god...thing? People downstairs were talking about goolds or something."

Daniel let a grin spread over his face and sat down in the other chair, having found a bit of common ground with this man. Rothman was probably thinking that Daniel had been given permission to work on this because he knew Abydonian history, which was true, but not the entire truth. "The Goa'uld Ra used to rule over Abydos," he said. "They believed in other gods, too, but Ra was the only one they were allowed to worship, so 'natay' always refers to him in old writings. In fact, people used to swear in the name of 'natay,' but after the Great Rebellion, we tend to swear on 'naturu,' all the gods, because 'natay' alone still means 'Ra' to us and we try to distance ourselves from that part of our history. I can tell you more about it, Dr. Rothman."

"Oh, you can call me Robert," the man said off-handedly. "And did you say 'we?' You're not seriously telling me that you're from...?"

"Robert," Daniel tried out, and started again. "And yes, I am."

"Oh my god," Robert said. He leaned forward, blinked, and sat back.

"Ay, natay'ai," Daniel answered, "although, to us, that would mean 'oh my Ra,' which was my point." Robert laughed. He looked surprised at his own amusement, then relaxed a little and grinned. "I've heard stories about Ra all my life."

"I have...like, so many questions," Robert said.

"So do I," Daniel said, looking around at the trunks and wondering if they were filled with books like his parents' trunks had been. "Can we start now?"

XXXXX

15 October 1997; SGC, Earth, 1130 hrs

"So," Janet said when he walked into the infirmary, "have you been settling in okay?"

Daniel shrugged. Janet was nice--more than nice, really--but he hated having to sit on one of the white beds, staring at the white walls and ceilings, waiting for one of the people, dressed all in white, to examine him.

"Did you spend the morning with Captain--with Sam?" she prompted.

"No--with Robert. Dr. Rothman. He's an Egyptologist," he explained.

"Oh, really? I'll bet you two have a lot to talk about."

"He's very smart," Daniel said, despite his first impressions of the man. "I'm faster with the hieroglyphs, but he's seen a lot more cultures than I have, he knows some languages I don't, and he's been showing me the kinds of things you're supposed to pay attention to in research. And he let me borrow one of his archaeology textbooks to read. I could learn about languages on Abydos, but not advanced techniques used in archaeology."

"You must be very interested," Janet said. "Your parents were archaeologists, right?"

Daniel looked around the room. "Mm-hm. Um...am I supposed to wear those glasses?"

Janet's eyes showed something other than simple curiosity now, so Daniel gestured again to the frames in her hands. She opened her mouth and took a breath, but then closed it again. When she did speak, it was to say, "Yes, they're for you. Try them on."

"I've tried to wear glasses before," he told her. "They made everything look..." He paused, not knowing the right word. "Uh, not clear and sharp."

"They made things look blurry," Janet suggested, and Daniel filed the word away. "Well, they were probably the wrong prescription for you. Were they one of your parents' glasses?"

Daniel reached out for the frames, which were thin and plain, more like his father's than Sergeant Siler's or Robert's. He stared at them too long, he could tell, because Janet was tilting her head slowly in that way she did when she was trying to find an angle where she could see his eyes without his noticing. Just glasses, he told himself firmly, and shoved them hastily onto his face.

He blinked around the room for a few moments, letting his vision adjust. "I can read the words all the way over there," he said, surprised. He caught sight of movement beyond the window in a more private part of the infirmary, which he hadn't been able to see clearly before. "'Isolation'? Does that mean someone is sick in there?" he asked.

Janet followed his gaze to the closed double doors. "Ah. Yes, in fact. Someone is, but he needs...privacy, so please don't go bothering him."

Bothering...? He wouldn't do that to someone he didn't even know. Except... He looked more closely, squinting a little through the glasses, and asked curiously, "Is that Major Kawalsky? I thought he was fine yesterday." He didn't know Major Kawalsky very well, but he'd seemed like a good person.

"Daniel! What did I just say about privacy?"

Oh. "Sorry," he mumbled, looking quickly away. But he was still worried, so he asked, tentatively, "Is he going to be okay?"

For a moment, he thought Janet wasn't going to answer. Then she told him, very seriously, "Major Kawalsky is very sick right now. There's a specialist coming to try to help him. Daniel, I'm not joking about this. Don't try to get into his room, even just to visit. It's dangerous."

'Dangerous' struck him as an odd way to describe a sick man's room, but then, it was probably an illness that could be spread from person to person. "Okay," he told her honestly. "I won't. I hope he gets better."

"So do I," Janet said, and then smiled and reached out to brush aside his hair, the way Sha'uri liked to do.

Daniel quickly ducked and slid down from the bed, shifting in place uncomfortably. The glasses slipped, and he pushed them higher with a finger and wrinkled his nose. "Do I have to wear these all the time?" he asked.

Janet dropped her hand. "Not if you don't want to. The prescription is light, and I know you're used to getting around without them. I do want you wearing them any time you're reading or straining your eyes, though."

He pulled them off and was left holding them with nowhere to put them where they wouldn't be in danger of being crushed. "Um..."

A case appeared under his nose. "Keep them in here while you're not wearing them," Janet advised. "Now, take off your jacket so I can do another quick check-up."

Daniel sighed, but he'd stopped asking questions after the first hour of testing and prodding and taking pictures of things yesterday, so he lifted himself onto the gurney, let her shine a light in his eyes, and gave up on trying to keep track of what she was doing. "Am I sick?" he asked when she was done.

"No, you're fine. I just want to make sure I'm not missing anything," she assured him, picking up his arm and pushing up the sleeve to check his pulse. Her fingers brushed the band he wore on his wrist, and she paused. "What's this for?" she asked.

He pulled his arm back self-consciously and fingered the band himself. "My brother gave it to me," he said.

Her pen stopped moving. "Your...your brother."

"Not blood brother," he said, because everyone here got confused when he said brother. "My...good friend." That didn't seem right, though, calling Skaara just a friend. "He taught me how to..." To fight, to play games, to hunt for wild creatures, to play tricks on Sha'uri like little brothers were supposed to do... But that wasn't it, either. It sounded unimportant that way, and it wasn't. Skaara was more than that. In the end, he shrugged helplessly.

Janet looked like she understood what he wanted to say, though. "Is he older than you?"

"Yes. By seven of our years. He took me to hunt, once, and I brought back a...a ro'ri. A small animal...I don't know the English word," he said. He hooked a finger under the simple band around his wrist. "Skaara gave this to me when we returned."

Seshmit Kasuf--'Elder Kasuf' he remembered; the word people used here was 'elder'--and his parents had not been pleased with either of them for going without permission, but Skaara had said that he'd hunted well and had cut the leather and twisted it together for him. It wasn't as ostentatious as the wristbands Skaara wore himself to indicate his status as the leader of the n'chaapa'ai wa'talu, the guards of the Stargate, but it was a mark of pride and prowess nonetheless, even if it was just between the two of them. Especially because it was just between the two of them.

"Do all the boys on Abydos know how to hunt?" Janet asked.

"Not all," he replied. "We trade for much of our food. And we grow or raise some of it. But Skaara was--is--a warrior."

If she noticed his slip, she didn't comment on it. "And you?"

"I only know what Skaara and the others taught me," he admitted. "I study books, mostly, so I can become a teacher one day, after..."

After my parents. I was to be a teacher after them, but not yet. It wasn't supposed to happen yet.

"Is that what your parents did?" she said. "They were teachers?"

Daniel stopped toying with his wristband and, shivering, picked up his discarded jacket from the end of the gurney. "Can I put this back on?" he asked. Nights could be colder on Abydos than in the SGC, but here, it didn't become warmer during the day like it did at home. When Janet stayed silent, he added, "I'm a little cold. Is everything done?"

"You can put your jacket back on," she finally told him. There was a frown line between her brows, but she continued, "By the way, the general's gotten identification for you."

"Already?"

"Already. Now, this facility is a secret, Daniel--"

"I know," he said. "General Hammond talked to me about that."

"Did he tell you what to say if someone outside asks who you are?"

"The US military found and saved me during one of their missions," he recited dutifully. "I have been granted temporary protected status here until I can return safely to my country."

"And where are you from?" Janet said.

"I'm not allowed to say."

"All right." She looked apologetic. "Hopefully, you won't be in many situations where a cover story is necessary, but..."

"I understand." He turned the identification card over and saw his name and a photograph--an airman had taken it yesterday--along with a code and a black strip on the back, like on the other cards he'd seen people carrying.

"It won't work in most of the card swipes," she told him, "so you won't be able to get into those areas on your own. Mostly, you shouldn't need to, anyway, but the code in the corner tells what level of access you have, so if you show it to one of the SFs, he or she can open a door for you. It'll work as a guest pass to the commissary for basic supplies, too."

Which meant that he was restricted to his quarters--whose lock had been disabled when Daniel had been assigned to it--and to public areas. For anything else, like the labs or Robert's office, he'd have to depend on someone else to open it for him. Still, it was better than being under someone's eye all the time. He could wander around on his own, at least.

"What about using the...going to other levels of the building?" he asked, not wanting to get stuck on some level of the base and have to look for someone to get him anywhere else.

"The 'elevator,' Daniel. And that's the only thing your magnetic strip is programmed for right now. We can increase access for you electronically if it becomes necessary."

He studied at the card again, and he was suddenly glad he was already sitting, or he would probably be sliding to the floor.

Daniel didn't exist on this world, which had, over the past days, been both freeing and frighteningly lonely. But now, even if this was just his name on a card, it was confirmation that he would be here, for a long time, as one of the Tau'ri. It made him feel a little like an imposter. Like an alien.

"Is anything wrong?" Janet said. "You look tired."

"No," he said, and promptly yawned. "A little," he amended.

She had her fists on her hips and looked torn between amusement and concern. "Are you having trouble sleeping?"

"A little," he admitted again. "It's just...different." That seemed to be the only adjective he could remember recently. Different. Everything was simply different. He tried to explain, "The nights are at different times here. And it's very quiet when I'm alone in my room."

"Oh, Daniel," she said, looking sad for some reason. "Would you prefer to stay in here at night? So someone will always be around and awake?"

"No!" he said immediately. There would be people here, but they were the wrong people. It didn't work that way. "No, thank you."

"Are you having nightmares?"

"No," he repeated without looking at her. It was mostly true, because he hadn't actually slept very much yet since the first day he'd arrived. "It's okay. I'll learn."

He'd have to. It would be a long time before he saw the deserts of Abydos again.

XXXXX

15 October 1997; SGC, Earth, 1900 hrs

Daniel was on his third circuit around the 27th sub-level--or maybe his fourth, since he'd gotten a little lost, so he wasn't sure--when he literally bumped into Jack and landed on the floor.

"Hello," Jack said, standing over him. Daniel was grateful the man didn't immediately try to help him up--it was embarrassing enough to have been knocked over to begin with--but he noted the way Jack hovered just close enough to offer a hand if needed.

"Sorry," he said automatically, scrambling to his feet and backing up a few paces.

Jack turned to look behind himself and then back the way Daniel had come. "If you're looking for somewhere to run, there's a perfectly good treadmill in the gym." Daniel suspected his face looked as blank as his mind felt as he tried to remember if he knew what a treadmill was. "I'm just saying, kid," Jack added when he didn't answer.

"Ne--I wasn't running," he protested.

There it was again, that 'kid' that Jack kept using on him, and it still grated on his nerves. He'd given up complaining about it, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe because Jack had spoken for him before in front of his boss, or because Skaara had worshipped the man's name more than he ever had Ra's, or because Jack had made it clear that 'kid' was a word to him, not an insult.

But then he'd get that look on his face...there, that one, right there! The one that said 'no, I'm not taking you seriously.'

"I'm just trying to learn my way around," Daniel explained, not admitting that he mostly just kept moving through identical-looking corridors until he found the elevator and knew he'd gone all the way around.

"By running?" Jack said.

"I wasn't running!" he insisted.

Jack stared at him. "Yeah, just walking really fast, I guess." The colonel slipped his hands into his pockets--he'd changed into different clothes, with lighter trousers and a black jacket over everything. He looked away from Daniel and around the rest of the corridor, rocking back on his heels, then said, "You should try to avoid running through these hallways, though. Especially when there are more people around."

"I wasn't..." He stopped, since, on second (or third) thought, maybe he had been, a little. "I didn't notice that I was," he conceded grudgingly.

"It's pretty late, Daniel. You should be getting tired by now, not...hyperactive."

Daniel bit back an automatic protest that wanted to surface at that. "I'm not tired," he lied instead.

He couldn't explain to himself why he'd started feeling like he was crawling out of his skin when the base started to empty for the night. He hadn't wanted to close his eyes and sleep, so he'd tried to go to the top level, just to see if he could catch a glimpse of what Earth looked like when it wasn't under a mountain. His card only let him reach the 12th sublevel, though, and the security person there hadn't let him go further. There was no reason to feel trapped in such a large complex where people let him go mostly as he pleased, but he couldn't help it--there were just so many walls.

"Ah...you gonna be able to find your way back?" Jack said.

Probably, Daniel thought. "Of course," he said.

"Good. Then...I'll see you around." He gave a small wave and started to walk away.

"Jack--" Daniel said before Jack could leave.

He didn't know why he kept doing that, especially since he still wasn't sure what to make of Jack, and half of what Daniel said to him was some variant of 'No I'm not'. But Jack lifted his eyebrows in invitation, so he blurted, "Do you know if Major Kawalsky is still sick?"

He wasn't expecting the lightning-fast response. "How did you know about that?"

"So you do know," he said uselessly, then almost flinched at the glare Jack turned on him. "I mean, I saw him when I was in the infirmary with Janet."

"Did you go into his room?" Jack demanded.

Daniel narrowed his eyes in reaction. "I know how to respect a man's privacy," he said, hearing the last few days' frustration and sleeplessness beginning to leak out between his words. "I don't need everyone here to tell me to behave. I just wanted to..." Except he didn't know why he'd asked at all. To see if the major was better? To ask what was wrong with the man? To stop Jack from leaving him alone in the hall? "...to ask if you knew."

Jack shrugged then, with an edge under the casual air, as if he were bothered or angry but didn't want people to know. "Yeah, sure, kid."

Suddenly, the word was too much and broke the last bit of control he'd had over his raw nerves, and he found himself snarling, "I'm not your kid!"

Jack snapped back, "No, you're not!"

Daniel reeled back, then gritted his teeth and turned around, but not before he saw the surprised look on Jack's face. It wasn't until he reached the elevator, pushing the button to close the door on Jack's exasperated call of "Daniel!" that he thought to wonder why he'd opened his mouth and said that in the first place.

After he pushed the door of his room shut, he almost expected to hear someone knock or maybe just fling the door open. When the clock showed that ten minutes had passed without anything happening, he released a breath in a sigh. He told himself that he was relieved.

XXXXX

16 October 1997; SGC, Earth, 1000 hrs

The next day, he was in Robert's office, helping to unpack several newly-arrived boxes that seemed to be filled solely with books--a lot of books. "You've never had a real education?" Robert was asking him as he put books in order.

Daniel tried not to sound irritated or offended when he answered, because he'd learned by now that Robert said things bluntly but meant no insult. "We just have a different way of learning. Ra kept the Abydons from education for thousands of years, and the few people who did know how to read or write even a little bit had to do it in secret. So even if our way of life were more like it is here, it would be hard to have formal schools. We learn what we need to from parents or other elders."

"But you're not going to school now, for more...systematic learning? Here on Earth, I mean." Robert grinned down at the desk--he also hadn't yet gotten past his fascination with the idea that he was talking to someone for whom 'here on Earth' was occasionally a necessary clarification.

"I'm going back to Abydos in a year," Daniel reminded him. "It wouldn't make sense for me to go to school now. I'd be behind, anyway."

Robert accidentally dropped a book, which made him sneeze when a dust cloud floated up and made Daniel wince at the thump. "Behind? You're kidding me, right?"

"No," he answered, frowning curiously. "I know languages and some of this planet's mythology, but I don't know any of its more recent history, or how to use computers and..." He waved a hand at the mass of tangled cables sitting on and around Robert's desk. He'd nearly jumped out of his skin the first time the telephone had rung yesterday. "I don't even know what all of that is," he admitted. He'd mentally catalogued 'computer' and 'keyboard' and 'monitor' while with Sam yesterday, but everything still looked like a jumble to him.

Robert shrugged. "Honestly, neither do I, exactly. Sergeant...uh, something...said he'd help me get it set up later."

"That's likely Sergeant Siler," Daniel told him, remembering the man because when he wasn't in Sam's lab, he was fixing something--anything, really--around the base. "There are other things I couldn't study back home. It wouldn't have been practical there."

"Huh." Another armload of books was dumped onto the table to sort out and put in order. "So, math, natural science, things like that..."

"There are physicians in Nagada who practice medicine and know chemicals," Daniel said, "but I suppose it's very different from how it's done here, and I didn't study with them, anyway. But I do know math."

"Of course, of course," Robert said, nodding his head vigorously. "Math was important to Ancient Egyptian society, I knew that."

Abydos isn't the same as Ancient Egypt, Daniel thought, because things changed over thousands of years, and Egypt had a Nile like Abydos didn't, while Abydos had Ra like Egypt hadn't had since Ra fled Earth. Instead of trying to explain that, though, he finished, "But in science...I'd be far behind in the things you're thinking of." Computers, Sam's books on nuclear chemistry and the things that happened inside stars...even the simplest, everyday tools and medicines Janet used were things he'd known about, vaguely, but never had the chance to see.

"You know, I should have guessed about you," Robert continued.

Daniel paused in sorting books and looked up dubiously. "What should you have guessed? That I was from another planet?" He was out of place here, but biologically, he and the other Abydons were all Tau'ri, or close enough that alien should not have been a first guess.

"Well, not that," Robert said. "I couldn't say where you're from, but now I'm looking for it, I can tell you're not from around here. It's your accent."

Tamping down some embarrassment, Daniel said, "What's wrong with my accent?" It was the one thing that made him more self-conscious than any other aspect of his native culture. He'd tried to be especially observant, mimicking the way people talked, particularly when he noticed others speaking just a little differently from how he had learned it. It didn't help that not everyone here pronounced vowels the same way. The vowels in 'talk' and 'cot,' for instance--were they supposed to be the same, or weren't they? Daniel had tried both, and no one had corrected him, but maybe people were just being nice.

"Well, I haven't studied formal linguistics since I got my masters, but...I think your consonant voicing is off, sometimes," Robert said, studying him until Daniel started to fidget. "There are sounds that contrast in English by aspiration instead of voicing; you wind up not aspirating one enough and voicing the other more than most Americans would. And your diction. Well, mostly that, I guess. It's too careful--you're paying a lot of attention to sounds, I can tell."

"Are you saying I should speak less carefully?" Daniel said, listening carefully to his consonants. Too carefully? How was he supposed to be careful about being too careful?

"It's very slight--I think it's something you'll pick up with time," Robert assured him, so Daniel resolved to pay more attention and turned back to reading the spines of the books. "You know, Daniel..."

"What?"

Robert leaned back against the desk to look at him. "Once this program really gets started, there'll probably be a lot of work to do. If you wanted to help me with some of it--languages you know, for instance--I could teach what you don't know as we go along. Analyzing artifacts they find on other planets..."

"People studied artifacts and archaeology on Abydos," Daniel said. Two people, specifically.

"Yes, but could they do carbon dating there?" Robert asked. "There're lots of useful concepts you probably aren't familiar with. And we'll need to compile data and records on the computer--I can teach you how to do things like that. If you're interested."

Daniel blinked at the man who'd doubted a day ago that he could read hieroglyphs. "You're asking me if I want to be your apprentice?"

"I...was going to say 'intern' or 'assistant,' but sure, same idea. You're good enough to do some things on your own, I think, and I can show you the rest. You'll be around for a while, right? Why not?"

Daniel opened his mouth to answer when Jack's voice sounded from the door. "Looking for some free labor, Rothman?"

Robert pushed himself away from the table and stumbled over a book on the floor as he whirled around. "Oh...uh, no. Sir," he added uncertainly.

"Jack," Daniel complained, though this time, the impatience was tempered by apprehension about the night before. Stupid, he thought--if he'd wanted to prove he wasn't a child, yelling at Jack and then running away like a baby wasn't going to help him.

"I'm Colonel O'Neill," Jack said as an introduction. Robert looked like he wasn't sure if he'd done something wrong. "Anyway, I'm here for Daniel."

"Uh, why?" Daniel asked.

Jack's lips twisted sourly. "Teal'c is being...relocated."

"What?" Daniel put down the book in his arms. "Where? When? Now?" Though he'd only been to visit Teal'c once more, after that first lesson, the Jaffa understood him in some ways like no one else here did, despite a complete lack of understanding on other levels. Fear prickled at him at the thought that one of the handful of people he knew here--who was even kind to him, ironic and bizarre as it seemed--was leaving.

"Soon, yeah," Jack said. "I know you've been visiting him, so I thought you'd..."

"Can I see him before he goes?" he asked desperately, almost hopping in place. If Jack hadn't been standing in the door, he would have been out in the corridor already, heading down toward the room where Teal'c was staying. "Where is he? Is he still in his room?"

"No, he's in the infirmary," Jack said.

"What? Why? What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing, Daniel, shut up a second and let me talk, all right?"

Daniel shut up and anxiously followed Jack out the door, only realizing once they were already in the elevator, out of sight of the office, that he'd forgotten to answer Robert's question.

"Nothing happened to Teal'c," Jack said. "Major Kawalsky just got out of surgery, and Teal'c's visiting him before he leaves."

He almost asked 'why' again, but then a loud alarm sounded just as they stepped out into the corridor. Without thinking, he froze and clamped his hands over his ears. Jack grabbed his arm roughly and pushed him toward the wall.

"Stay here! Don't move." Three people ran around the corner carrying guns, and Daniel nodded, staring. Jack caught one of the men's arm as he passed, yelling over the sound of the alarm, "What the hell's going on?"

"It's Major Kawalsky, sir! He went crazy--knocked out the technicians in the 'gate control room!"

"Jesus, I thought they got it out of him," Jack muttered. Daniel flinched as someone came around the corner and sped past him, nearly knocking him flat. Turning to him, Jack shouted, "Go to...to the infirmary, and stay there until someone comes to get you!"

"But--" Daniel said, feeling his mouth move and not hearing his voice over the alarm.

"Stay out of the way. If you see Kawalsky, run and find somewhere to hide, you hear me?"

"I--"

"Daniel, he has a Goa'uld in him!"

For an instant, it was Apophis standing before him, his eyes boring into Daniel's, yelling orders to choose and kill and... He blinked and saw Jack's face instead.

"...you hear me?"

"Y-yes," Daniel choked out past the rising tide of terror and memories of the last time people had stormed past him with guns--the last time a Goa'uld had been in the place he called home...

"Go!"

Then Jack turned around and followed the others down the hall. Daniel automatically started to follow, only to remember he was going the wrong way. Spinning around brought him into the path of someone whose face he vaguely remembered having seen before, and he ducked quickly out of the way and hurried toward the infirmary.

Only, when he thought he was getting close, he realized he'd gotten lost somewhere in the turns of the hallways--yi shay, they all looked the same!

His mind blanked in panic. Then a single set of heavy footsteps sounded around the next corner, and without thinking, he flung himself into a doorway, pressing himself against the jamb and hoping he'd stay unseen.

It wasn't Major Kawalsky. It was Teal'c, and it was clear now that this was not the man who quietly taught him the Goa'uld language; this was the warrior who had been First Prime to a powerful Goa'uld. He tore along the hallway, and Daniel started to leave his spot and call out to him. But as he drew nearer, the rage and hatred on his face stood out so starkly that Daniel's words died in his throat and he could only shrink back and watch him pass.

And Daniel was at an intersection somewhere and couldn't remember which way he was supposed to go, and people weren't at their usual posts that he could ask. He took a breath, hoped his trust in the Jaffa was well-founded, and ran in the direction that Teal'c had gone.

Daniel wasn't a bad runner, and running here was easier than on the shifting Abydonian sands, but Teal'c's long legs were faster, and before long, he lost sight of Teal'c, too. He heard a door open, though, and rounded a corner to see the door to the stairwell swinging shut, so he followed the echoing sounds of Teal'c's footsteps downward.

Then, a flash of dark skin caught his eye, and he rushed down the nearest corridor toward where Teal'c had disappeared, stopping short in an open doorway as he realized where he was.

Immediately, he knew what his mistake was. Teal'c would never have run for safety. Teal'c had run toward danger, and Daniel had followed him there.

The Stargate was active, the shimmering pool that Sam called the event horizon rippling across the ring. Major Kawalsky stood at the base of the ramp, back far too straight for a man who'd just had surgery and his posture screaming arrogant confidence. Teal'c stood partway up the ramp like a one-man wall, somehow managing to look like he was blocking the whole path.

A Goa'uld, Jack said. A Goa'uld in the major, just like there was one in Skaara and Sha'uri and just like the tyrant that enslaved his people and just like the monster that had ordered his parents killed...

Neither of them noticed Daniel. His legs were frozen and knew he wouldn't be able to run even though his mind had woken up enough to tell him to move, ay naturu, move! There was a metal shield over the control room window, but it rose as he watched. Through the window, he saw soldiers hovering in the back of the room, some rushing out and turning toward the 'gate room. General Hammond was at the computers, with Jack, Sam, and a technician beside him.

Teal'c deep voice reverberated through the room. "You cannot pass."

Kawalsky's eyes flashed, and he bared his teeth. "You cannot stop me, shol'va," he taunted, his voice distorted (like Apophis), and Daniel's knees unlocked, leaving him to slide limply down the doorframe.

That was what Skaara was now, and Sha'uri. They were as good as dead, dead, like Mama and Papa, worse than dead, and they'd never get them back...

"He's trying to get to Chulak!" Jack's voice called through the microphone. As if spurred by the words, Kawalsky dove toward the chaapa'ai. Teal'c shifted to catch him, and they collided halfway.

Daniel squeezed his eyes shut and tried to disappear into the wall, but he could hear, he could still hear, and they were all screaming...

"Kek!" Apophis screamed. "Kree, Jaffa!"

Papa screamed, "Claire, no!" while she screamed, "Danny...Danny--"

and Teal'c heard them and turned, with his armor and his weapon and--

Teal'c growled wordlessly at Kawalsky, who spat, "Shol'va!"

--Skaara screamed, "Na nay--Dan'yel!" and "O'Neill!"

"Teal'c, hold him there!" Jack yelled.

and "Skaara!" and--

"Close the iris!"

--Skaara screamed, "Dan'yel, Sha'uri, shim'rota!" and they screamed and screamed and

and he wouldn't stop, they wouldn't stop they wouldn't stop screaming...

"Daniel, stop!"

Someone was saying "...na nay, na nay..."

"Daniel!"

There were hands on him, grabbing at him, holding him in place, and he curled further into himself, away from the hands that tried to grab him. Then one of the hands left his shoulders and gripped the back of his head.

He tried frantically to squirm out, sure he was about to be yanked to his feet and taken away again, but he was only pulled forward against someone's chest. The continued stream of sound became muffled, and when he realized it was coming from him, his breath caught and he opened his eyes to see a metal tag hanging in front of a black shirt, visible between the dull green edges of an open jacket.

And then the hitching breaths became gasps, and he twined his fingers into the black fabric and buried his face, clinging with all his strength. The hand on his head stayed firmly in place and another moved to his back, rubbing slow circles into his spine.

"Slow down, Daniel," the voice said, softer now. "Slow breaths, now. Shh..."

His breaths didn't slow, though, and panic made his panting faster and faster until the black spots in his eyes began to merge into the black fabric of the shirt.

"You're safe, Danny--Daniel, you're safe. Follow me, c'mon, kid... breathe in... and out... in... out... in..."

Then he was lying still against whoever it was, tired from fighting his own mind and still terrified and confused and hopelessly lost, but the hand on his back was gentle and the body warm and heart beating (alive, alive) against his cheek. He screwed up his courage and lifted his head to see Jack, distantly surprised to find worry and a hint of his own panic reflected in the older man's eyes.

"Daniel? Are you with me now?" He didn't nod, but Jack understood, anyway. "Are you hurt?"

He made himself shake his head, then, and suddenly had to had to explain. "I got lost, I didn't know where I was, ne sakhiu bew, Teal'c meiu..." but that was as far as he got before a single sob tried to shudder through him. "...s-saw Teal'c and then the major..."

"Hey, hey..."

"...his voice, and I thought...I heard...Apophis sa'djiu, ay naturu, mahiu...forgot it wasn't Apophis, it couldn't be, ta'pwah..."

"No, kid. Don't think about it."

"..ta'pwah yu..."

His throat closed off, and meaningless shushing sounds went on over his head.

Reason came back to him in a flood. He couldn't bring himself to turn away from the familiar form before him to look for himself, but he forced himself to ask the question. "Major Kawalsky? What happened?"

Jack's face shuttered, and Daniel knew the answer even before he heard, "Major Kawalsky didn't make it."

Daniel started to shake, this time not because it was cold in the room. Jack tugged his jacket closed for him, and Daniel wrapped his arms around himself.

"It's okay, kid," Jack lied. "It's okay."

"It's not okay," he managed between ragged breaths, abandoning all pride and burrowing into the shirt again. "Major...and now Skaara is like that, too...and we'll never get them back they're never coming back, ne..."

"We don't know that, Daniel. We still might..."

"...ne a'nensen, ne..."

"Shh. Listen to me, Daniel. Are you listening?"

He didn't answer but closed his mouth and concentrated on breathing instead.

"Your family is still out there. We'll find them. We'll find a way to save them." Jack's hand brushed through his hair, once, then rested there, steady.

"Ne nabi."

"Ne...Not? Not what?"

"Not all of them," Daniel whispered. "Can't save all of them. Not Mama and Papa."

Jack's hand stilled on his back, so Daniel knew he'd heard, but he said nothing.

Finally, Daniel pulled back and stared at Jack's shoulder. "I miss them, Jack," he mumbled, then repeated, louder, "I miss them," because he had to hear it again to be sure it was real now and they were gone, gone forever.

"I know," Jack said.

"They're not coming back."

"No."

"I don't..." He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing larger. "I don't know what... What do I do?"

Jack didn't answer for a long while. "Nothing, for now," he said finally. "We'll figure it out. I promise." Strong arms circled around him, and he let his head fall against the sturdy shoulder, his body still trembling.

When tears started prickling at the backs of his eyes, he tightened his grip on Jack and held on, hoping it would anchor him against an overwhelming wave that was about to sweep him away. The tightness in his throat made him almost forget how to breathe again, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop a whimper from clawing its way out. But Jack tightened his hold, too, and Daniel let himself feel warm in the embrace, just for the moment.

And then shame washed him, and he pushed himself back, unable to meet Jack's eyes. "Is...is Teal'c gone? Going?"

"No, he's not. After..." An exhalation. "I figure the general won't let anyone take him away now. He just went to his room."

The relief of hearing it--and his confusion at his relief--threatened to bowl him over, so he turned away and leaned into the wall while he tried to find his feet again.

"Hey."

He looked up into Jack's eyes but had to look away again, his face burning. There were people behind Jack, out in the corridor. He could hear them muttering, whispering, and he kept his gaze fixed on the ground so he wouldn't have to see them. "'m sorry," he mumbled.

"No. No. Don't say that. Just...are you okay? Daniel?"

Daniel nodded, saying to his shoe, "Can I go to my room now?"

He refused to look up when silence drew out several seconds. "Are you sure you don't want..." The voice trailed off. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Yes, he thought. "I'm sorry about Major Kawalsky," he said, because Jack should be allowed to worry about his friend, who was dead, naturu, he was dead...

"Daniel," Jack sighed.

"Debehiu--" He bit his tongue. English. He could do this. "Can I be alone?"

In the end, he let Airman Banks escort him to his room while Jack saw to Major Kawalsky. He was too numb to blush, but humiliation still crept up at the memory of getting lost and wandering the halls in a panic, and then clinging to Jack like it was all that could hold him together, even though he thought maybe it was, so he followed Banks and kept his eyes to the floor and didn't have to say anything to anyone he saw.

Half an hour later, it felt like the room was suffocating him, squeezing like a vise around his skull and his chest, and he couldn't focus enough to do anything but was too agitated to sleep. He tried but couldn't do anything but think about how to take one breath after another, in and out and then in again and out...

Boots stamped loudly outside, and he jumped, scrabbling backward on the floor, waiting for the door to burst open and an armored Jaffa to storm in. He closed his eyes in relief when the boots moved away, but then someone else walked past the door, and he found himself trying to hide in a corner of the room.

No one stopped him when he stumbled out, and no one stopped him when he opened Teal'c's door, either.

The Jaffa didn't rise or move at all, but surprise was clear even through the stony expression he wore. "Daniel Jackson, you--" he said, but then stopped. "Are you well?"

Daniel waited for the nervousness he often felt around the Jaffa and even stared deliberately at the glistening brand of Apophis, daring the savage warrior to burst forth and do something terrible--yell at him, take him away, tear him to pieces, anything--because he'd lived through that part already, and surely it would be better than this thing trying to rip him apart from inside his head where he couldn't see it or stop it or run from it.

Teal'c was sitting on the floor, dressed not in armor but in Tau'ri cloth. His voice had lost the edge of command and was instead uncertain.

And Daniel stared and stared and willed something to happen, but all he could feel was exhaustion and the bewildering certainty that he would be safe, and Apophis couldn't and wouldn't find him here.

He closed the door behind him, leaned back against the wall, and heard himself say, "Debehiu kelno'reem hano'ta?"

It wasn't until the words came out of his mouth that he realized he was still speaking in his mother tongue, but he couldn't summon enough energy to think and force the question out in English. It was close enough to Teal'c's dialect. Teal'c would understand.

"You wish to kelno'reem with me?" Teal'c said.

He nodded once, blinking hard and shaking with the effort of holding back a rising wave of tears. "Ti'u."

Teal'c studied him in the dim light for a moment, then inclined his head.

Daniel let himself slide slowly down the wall to the floor, closed his eyes, and did nothing but breathe until he drifted off to sleep.

From the next chapter ("Stars and Heroes"):

"It's not right. It's our history, and they took it, and they're...they're ruining it," Daniel said angrily, huddled miserably against the wall. "My mother said history is important, whether it really happened or not. Most of the people on Abydos still believe in the gods, even after the false Ra. And now it's all getting...twisted."

Translations (4/19)

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