He turns to look for me. 

“Do you remember the faeries in the cemetery, Jack?

“Sure.”  The thought doesn’t make me particularly comfortable.  “Why?”

“Doesn’t it feel the same here?”

Oh, yeah, trust our Littlest Ancient to tap into that immediately. 

“You’re right, it does.”

Maybe Carter’s right, we should dial back out right now, despite the fact I’m feeling more and more secure by the minute.

“Oh!  They were!  Feel this one!  It’s still alive!”  Along with his hands, Daniel presses his ear to the twisted, gnarled bole of a tree only half again his height.  “I can hear its heartbeat,” he whispers, awestruck.  “What do you suppose it would take to wake it up?”

Carter and I exchange ‘oh, shit’ glances.

“I believe Danieljackson’s flights of fantasy have overcome him, O’Neill.”

“That’s flights of fancy, Teal’c, just so you know.” 

And I sure hope it is flights of fancy. 

“Come on, Daniel, I don’t need you waking up the trees, Sport.”

Carter gives him back the remote and we head on down the path, following the pink plastic flags SG-7 left behind. 

Teal’c takes off through the trees.

A few more twists and turns, it feels sort of like wandering the halls at the SGC, and we break into the open. 

It’s a little oasis of sorts, in a rough semi-circle, closed on one side by another jumble of huge old boulders that gradually incline to the top of what looks like it might be a manmade wall of gigantic proportions.  The pile of boulders extends into the trees in both directions, with a number of trees growing, as we saw on the path earlier, from around, on top of, and between boulders.

The ground is neither sand, nor soil, but rather something of both, and supports a low-growing grass that seems to have thrived in the clearing. 

We’ve only walked for about fifteen minutes and for perhaps ten of that, we’ve been walking on a parallel path to the beach.  So, if we could cut straight through the trees we’re only about five minutes from the water. 

I can still hear the low splash of the waves breaking on the sand.

Teal’c is already here, collapsible shovel out, digging a fire pit in the middle of our clearing.  There is a large pile of sizable stones sitting to one side; he’ll ring the pit with them once he’s done. 

“There is fresh water, O’Neill,” he says, not bothering to look up from his present occupation.

“Yeah?  Where?” 

We hauled in water; SG-7 said nothing about a fresh water supply. 

“Approximately twenty paces to the west of this clearing.  You will wish to view it, as will Majorcarter and Danieljackson.  It appears to have been used as a bathing area.”

Daniel parks the M.A.L.P., stretches up on tiptoe to set the remote on top of one of the wheel covers, and steps back, tipping his head to look up at the sky. 

For just a second, superimposed over little Daniel, I see adult Daniel - hand clapped to his boonie, squinching his nose to get his glasses back in place, as he stares up at some alien sky, chattering a mile a minute – just like our little guy still is.

“It’s the wrong color of blue.  Almost turquoise instead of a true blue,” he analyzes.  “Is there a reason for that, Sam?”  But he doesn’t wait for an answer.  “Oh, look!”  The miniature finger comes up, too, pointing at the sun.  “I know what that is,” he exclaims, “you told me before.  It’s a sun dog!”

It is.  A very distinct halo of light rings the sun, glinting and glistening with the colors of a rainbow. 

And I did tell him that . . . but not since he’s been little. 

“Well, Major, I think we’ve just proved your theory correct,” I tell her in an undertone, “Teal’c says he knew the Stargate address for home, and now this.  This Daniel is definitely accessing adult Daniel’s memories.”

“What do you mean, sir?” 

Carter’s staring at the naturally recurring phenomenon, too, shading her eyes as she stares up at it.

“We haven’t seen any of those since Daniel got downsized by the magic box.”

“Uhm, we were studying them in one of his science books the other day.”

“Oh.” 

Damn. 

On one hand, I should probably be relieved; on the other, I’d really like to know. 

“How about when you two are done blinding yourselves, you help pitch camp?”

Carter immediately shakes off the enchantment.  It takes a little longer with Daniel, but he eventually joins in, cheerfully hammering tent pegs with his cast until I catch him at it and make him use a hammer.     

Camping for us is second nature and in very short order we have a tidy campsite. 

Teal’c has a fire going, over which Daniel is squatted, poking a stick into it, and Carter’s gone off to decide where the ladies room is going to be.

It occurs to me Daniel + fire + stick is a recipe for the beginnings of another unfortunate event, which none of us need right now.

However, since Teal’c has an eye on him, I don’t feel compelled to drag him away from it by the scruff of his neck.

Teal’c manages this overprotective business much better than I do.  Maybe it’s because he knows he can snatch Daniel back in a heartbeat if something happens.  Whereas I no longer have the reflexes of a hundred-and-five-year-old Jaffa, never mind the fifty-year-old Jaffa reflexes Teal’c still possesses.  

I wander over to join them, taking a seat on a conveniently upturned log that’s just about the right height for my long legs. 

Yeah, Teal’c looks out for old colonels, too.

“Should you not begin producing the evening meal, O’Neill?”

“Why?  You hungry?  It’s only 4:00 o’clock, T.  I thought maybe we’d all take a stroll down to the beach when Carter gets back.  See what the rest of this place looks like.”

Daniel ditches his stick and gets up to explore some more.

“Find everything okay?” I inquire, as Carter wanders back into the campsite.

“Oh my goodness,” she enthuses, “Teal’c’s bath is gorgeous.  We brought plenty of water, let’s use it for bathing.”

Teal’c inclines his head with that little bow of his.  “I had supposed you would find it extremely engaging, Majorcarter.  It is an attractive setting for a bathing, is it not?”

“It’s stunning.  Sir, it’s really an entire facility with running water and everything.  You won’t believe it.  It’s primitive, but actually quite ingenious.”

“I want to see,” Daniel pipes up. 

He’s been wandering around the clearing touching all of the trees.

“We’ll go past on our way to the beach.  Daniel, leave the trees alone.  I’m serious - I don’t need you waking up anything around here.”

“But . . .”

“I mean it, and if you won’t promise we may as well go straight back to the Stargate, because we’re not staying.”

He looks over at me, trying to gage how serious I am.

I’m dead serious.  I feel it, too.  There’s something about this place that’s not quite right.  It’s an odd feeling, not quite wrong either, just out of sorts.  I’m not comfortable with it,  but I don’t feel compelled to leave either, so we’ll stay, as long as Daniel doesn’t go fooling around with the precariously fragile balance I sense. 

“Okay,” he says eventually, though it’s a hard won battle.  He’s itching to see if he really can wake something up.  “I promise.”

“Daniel . . .”

He spreads his hands in a gesture of innocence. 

“I promise,” he repeats, sincerely. “I won’t try to wake anything up.”

“Don’t do it accidentally either.”

He snorts, a sound so typical I’m again seeing adult Daniel - on the Gadmeer ship, this time, yanking back his hand after I just told him not to touch anything and the drawer just happens to open in front of him. 

Yeah, right. 

“Accidentally either,” I repeat, in the voice he knows he better obey, or else. 

Thankfully, I haven’t had to follow through on the ‘or else’ yet.  He really is a good kid.  If I make sure I engage his attention before telling him something, he always obeys.  It’s the times I’ve told him something and I don’t realize that although he may be looking me directly in the eye, his mind’s busily engaged elsewhere, that we have issues.  I’ve learned to touch his face if I’m not sure, that always brings him back. 

He’s very mischievous and still a pain-in-the-neck to keep track of, but he’s never been willfully disobedient.  He understands the need for rules and doesn’t even mind them, so long as they make sense to him.  Fortunately for me, a downsized Daniel isn’t required to obey the military’s rules.

Teal’c throws a couple more good sized logs on the fire. 

SG-7 left us firewood? I don’t want to think about what they cut down. 

“I, too, believe you should leave things alone here, Danieljackson.”  He rises effortlessly.  “You are correct; this is a primordial world, very old.  You could unleash more than you bargain for, even accidentally.  You will need to be extremely cautious.”

I got rolled eyes; Teal’c gets a look of awe. 

”I promise I’ll be careful,” Daniel replies solemnly.

Carter has theorized the planet’s three moons have seriously affected the weather patterns over the last several thousand years.  Endless rain and rising tides likely drove whatever human habitation there was off the planet eons ago.

 “I found recent signs of a large animal, as well, O’Neill.”

“Large animal?”  I swivel my head around toward my full-grown scientist.  “Carter?  No complex life signs?”

“You know that means no sentient beings, sir.”  She shrugs and raises her eyebrows.  “How large, Teal’c?  Are we talking the size of a raccoon or a mountain lion?”

“Approximately the size of a large dog, Majorcarter.” 

The disdain in his voice has dog shit written all over it. 

“Dog?”

Daniel’s hands drop from the tree he’s been ‘studying’.  He’s been bugging me about a dog for the last two months.  Ever since Cassie opened her big mouth and told him it’s a rule - every Earth kid has to have a dog. 

“I thought you said this was an island, Jack,” he says, looking around as if Teal’c’s ‘dog’ is going to come loping into camp any second.

As this is the only land for minimally hundreds of miles in any direction, basically the limit of a long-range UAV, I have serious doubts the bionetwork here could support even a pack of dogs.

“Don’t go wandering around unarmed then, and Daniel, no wandering off on your own.  You stay within sight of an adult at all times.  Just like the trees, I mean it.  Got that?”

He eyes me, his brain working furtively. 

“This requires only a yes or no answer.  And if you tell me no, then we’ll go over it again,” I pause briefly, “and again, and again, until you’re clear on this.  You do not go wandering off on your own no matter what’s calling your name.  Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he mumbles, with a mutinous sniff, which is about as close as he comes to talking back. 

Where along the line did he lose all respect for authority?  Or should I be asking where, along what timeline, did he lose all respect for authority?

“Good.  Let’s go. Carter, Teal’c?  Lead the way, since you two know where we’re going.”

Teal’c takes point, Carter follows, I take our six with Daniel in front of me; pretty reminiscent of our standard recon formation.  Daniel, as our lone civilian, always goes the middle despite the fact he’d become as good a solider as any of us even before he ascended.

The lavatory facilities are pretty incredible; all the more so for likely being thousands of years old.  There’s even a primitive toilet with running water and a small waterfall nearby that flows into a basin that could certainly be a sink.  It’s the bath, though, that engages all our attention. 

It’s a sunken tub, lined with rocks speckled with something that glints as the sun slants through the foliage.   Occasional blinding shafts of light unexpectedly shoot out of the water like fireworks. 

Daniel reaches his hand to try to catch one. 

“Oooo,” he says, drawing his hand back quickly, though the sound he makes is more surprise than hurt.  “It tingles,” he puts his hand back out.

Experimentally, I poke the end of my P-90 in the pool. 

Nothing.  So I bend down and stick my hand in. 

The water’s warm and when I pull my hand out there is a pleasant tingling sensation, as though I’ve just had my hand massaged by an expert masseuse. 

“What do you think, T?  Ever run across anything like this in your travels?”

“I have encountered springs like this on several different planets, O’Neill.  They are not harmful, if that is what you are asking.”

“It was.  And you’re sure?”

“My symbiote took considerable pleasure in places such as this.  I believe it is comparable to the beneficial effects of the hot springs on your world.  In response to your query, I am certain.”

“Yeah?  If Junior liked it, you’re certain it’s okay for humans?”

“I am.”

“Good enough for me.  Carter, since you’re the lone female of the party, you get first shot at it.  Just don’t take forever.”

“I’m not turning that offer down,” she grins, turning in a circle to take in the ‘ceiling’ and ‘fixtures’ of our lavatory. 

“Just watch out for snakes.” 

I turn to head back for the path.

“I haven’t seen signs of any wildlife, sir.  Besides Teal’c’s dog,” she says, guiding Daniel in front of her as she follows. 

Teal’c takes our six this time.

“I meant ‘in paradise’, Major.  For some reason, all this seems a little too good to be true.” 

We hit the clearing again and I look back for Teal’c. 

“Think we can go directly through the trees out to the ocean or do we need to take the path.”

“I would counsel we follow the path, O’Neill, until we have further reconnoitered on our own.”

“Excellent observation.  Daniel, stay within sight, keep your hands off the trees, and STAY OUT OF THE WATER!” I holler as he whips around us and scampers down the path full speed ahead. 

Even I know that’s far too many instructions for a seven-year-old.  I pick up the pace so he doesn’t get too far ahead of us.

The beach extends for several miles to the east of us; to the west, another tumble of smooth boulders marks the end of our side of the island.  The boulders are huge and extend well into the water, forming a causeway of sorts that bisects the sandbar leading to the Stargate. 

Carter says in another few hundred years, the Stargate will be underwater as well.

Daniel heads straight for the rocks and I know damn well he’s going to end up in the water again.  Or worse yet, falling and cracking open that cast.

“Hey, Sport, we already know what’s down that way.  Let’s see what might be down this way.” 

It works, amazingly enough.  He obediently turns and trots back toward us.

Carter pulls a bottle of suntan lotion out of one of her multiple pockets. 

“Daniel, come here and let me put some suntan lotion on you.”

Daniel stands still until she gets to his face and finger combs the hair back off his forehead. 

“Yuck,” he says, spitting. 

She’s very thorough, even using the tips of her fingers to rub it on his ears and into the part on top of his head.  

“The sun is closer here than at home, it’s very strong.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have the same kind of UV rays we have at home.”

“Yes, Mr. Smarty Pants, you may very well be right, but we’re not taking any chances.  A bad sunburn could ruin our whole vacation.” 

“It tastes bad.”

“You’re not supposed to eat it, Daniel.”  Carter pulls his t-shirt up and wipes his lips, then pulls chapstick out of another pocket and hands it to him.  “Put some of this on.”

“Mmmmm,” he grins, “this tastes good.”  He hands back the chapstick.  “What kind is it?”

“Tropical Fruit Punch.”

“Are you sure?” 

He’s still grinning because he knows he gets kisses and hugs from Carter with this game.

“I don’t know, let me check.” 

She swoops him up, tickles him until he’s leaning so far back I think he’s going to do a back flip right out of her arms, then in a motion almost too quick for the eye to follow she swings him up, cradles him in her arm, and plants a smacking kiss on his lips, declaring, “Yep, its Tropical Fruit Punch.  Geez, Daniel, are you finally putting on weight, or does that cast weigh an extra ten pounds?” 

Carter matches her chapstick to our missions like other women match their purses to their shoes.  And this is one of her games with Daniel. 

We all have some little ritual around hugs and kisses that’s unique to each of us. 

Teal’c whirls him around by the ankles - yeah, I’m still not watching that game - then throws him up and catches him, ending with hugs and kisses. 

This is just one of half a dozen Carter plays with him. I’ll often see her catch up with him in the corridors at the SGC and just scoop him up from behind and snuggle him for a minute before putting him down again. 

Daniel thrives on it and if we happen to miss our cue, he stops whatever he’s doing and waits until we catch on.

He’s going to outgrow this and we’re going to be the ones missing it.

Carter drops a still giggling Daniel lightly to the sand. 

“Hey, has your cast dried out yet.  Hold still, wiggle worm, and let me see.” 

She catches his hand and turns it palm up, wiggling the tips of her own fingers inside over top of his.  

“Is it?” he asks, tilting his head as if trying to see what her fingers are doing inside the plaster.

“It’s getting there.  Tell you what, when we get back to camp, I’ll sprinkle some baby powder inside, that will help wick the last of the moisture.  But I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay out of the water for the rest of the day.”

“If I stay in the shallow can I look for shells?”

“Sure, but pay attention.” 

We resume walking as this conversation takes place. 

“If you get it wet again, it will take that much longer to dry, and you can’t go back in the water until the cast is completely dry and we can put the sleeve on to keep it that way.”

Carter found a place that does custom stuff for scuba divers and they made her a little sleeved mitten to waterproof both the cast and Daniel’s arm so he’s not getting water down inside the cast.  You slide it on, zip it up, tuck the top inside the elbow end of the cast and voila’, he can be in the water. 

Not much fun being off-world on a deserted island surrounded by beaches and not be able to be in the water.

“Can I run back to camp and get something to carry the shells in?” Daniel asks hopefully. 

“You may not go back alone, Danieljackson; however, I will carry them for you if it is your wish.”

“We don’t even know if we’re going to find any shells here, Daniel.”  Carter’s plopped down in the sand and is taking off her boots, rolling up her pants legs too. 

Don’t know why it didn’t occur to any of us to change. 

She lines up her boots, stuffs her socks inside, and leaves them sitting on the beach.

“It’s not like anybody’s going to steal them,” she says with a shrug, taking the hand Daniel holds out and running with him to the edge of the water. 

For a few minutes they play like they’re being chased by the waves, running up the beach as the surf foams around their ankles, then running back down chasing the waves back into the water. 

When Teal’c strips off his boots and joins them, I scope out a nearby palm and slouch over to take a load off.

“Come on, Jack,” Daniel calls, looking over his shoulder.  “It’s fun!”

“I’m sure it is.  My knee isn’t up to jumping waves today.” 

It’s an excuse, but he’ll let me get away with it since he has Carter and Teal’c to entertain him.

I’d rather watch. 

In the time it takes them to wear him out, I snap several more little Daniel pictures, downloading them to my mental photo album.  Daniel holding on to Teal’c’s hand as he jumps the incoming waves – Teal’c effortlessly lifting him high above the possibility of getting wet again; Carter and Teal’c, with Daniel between them, picking him up by the elbows to jump the waves;  Carter and Daniel, the two blond heads nearly blending in with the sand, poking at some interesting specimen. 

And, then, my family’s trooping back to settle around me in various stages of relaxation here under the shade of the swooping palm. 

Yes, we are a family, an odd one, with neither genetic or blood ties, but family in a way few hereditary families ever achieve.  With Daniel’s downsizing, it’s been reaffirmed in a whole new way.

Which is why we’re here.  We need to reevaluate, make some decisions about where we’re headed and what we’re going to do if Daniel isn’t resized to normal.  Which, you know, six months down the road with no discernable change, is beginning to look more and more like a permanent thing. 

We started with school two months ago and he’s already half way through the 9th grade work, so I know there’s nothing wrong with his brain.  And Janet swears he’s growing even if she can only measure it in micrometers, so I’m less worried that the effects of the damned Fountain of Youth thingy are irreparably permanent. 

That last trip through the Gate, though, I guess it really sunk in that none of us are immortal.  And one of us has to be around for Daniel.  There’s no way I’m going to leave him at risk for being shuffled off to who knows where ever again and that includes letting the NID get their hands on him.  I know Hammond and Frasier would kill for him as well, but Hammond and Frasier are extended family, they’re not SG-1.   

“Want to walk a little further or are you ready to go back and make supper, Daniel?”

No MRE’s this trip out; we brought real food we can cook over a fire.  Teal’c’s been watching Julia Child reruns and wants to try his hand at wood-smoked chicken linguini.  Carter rigged one of the compartments on the M.A.L.P. so we have a little refrigerator, and Daniel and I bought all the ingredients on T’s list . . . if nothing else, it will be interesting. 

“Let’s walk!” 

He bounds up, flinging sand in every direction, reenergized and ready to go.  Oh to be young again and have energy like that. 

Or maybe not.  I’m not sure I’d want to be seven again for anything.

We end up walking another couple of miles down the beach.  Daniel, darting every which way, probably adds twice again the number of miles we walk, so by the time we’re ready to head back, he’s beat. 

Teal’c notices before I do and without a word, swings him up on his shoulders, brushing off the small sandy feet before clasping him by the ankles to hold him in place.  Like the big Daniel, our little space monkey can sleep anywhere, and he’s out, slumped over Teal’c’s bald head like a really bad wig. 

I file away another Mastercard moment.

The walk back to camp is mostly silent, not necessarily in deference to our sleeping kid, but partly.  I think partly, too, because we’re all lost in our own thoughts. 

“Penny for them, Major?”

Carter slants a look at me.  “Just wondering again, why we’re here, sss . . .”

She lets it fade away and I’m grateful enough to shoot her a grin.

“Yeah, me too.  Teal’c?”

“I also would be interested to know why we are here, O’Neill.  However, I have observed, since coming through the Gate, there is a tranquility about all of us that has been elusive these past weeks as we have wrestled against this binding.”

“Binding?” Carter pipes up.  “As in spell, Teal’c?”

Teal’c only raises an eyebrow.

“Come on,” she pursues, “you don’t really believe in that kind of stuff, do you?”

“There is an element to the universe, Majorcarter, scientists such as yourself cannot explain away, even with theories.  I believe Danieljackson is correct, the trees on this island are alive, or were at some time if they are no longer.  How do you explain that with your scientific theories?”  He doesn’t wait for an answer, merely goes on, his deep voice a counterpoint to the soft swishing of the waves still washing in around our feet.  “The Nox were correct in identifying the Tau’ri as young.  You have traveled out here for years, now, yes?  But you still do not comprehend the ancientness of the universe.  Much like Danieljackson could speak anticipatorily about traveling nine galaxies away from his own, you speak the words, but you have no comprehension of what it means for the universe to be hundreds of thousands of years old.  In a place like this,” he lets loose of one of Daniel’s ankles, making a single economic gesture with his hand, “you may begin to feel and comprehend the spirit of ancientness that pervades certain places.”

It’s Carter’s turn to raise an eyebrow.  She’s not convinced, but she’s not going to argue.  Teal’c’s point is well taken; this place does feel primeval, there’s no arguing that.

We pause briefly on the beach in front of the path back to the campsite to watch this world’s sun slide down over the horizon. 

“Oh!” Carter and I echo at the same moment as the infamously elusive green flash lights the horizon.  It’s almost florescent in its brilliance and lasts only moments before disappearing, as if sucked into a vortex in the sea. 

I don’t know about Carter, but I’ve watched a lot of sunsets on Earth, from a lot of different beaches, and I’ve never once caught that flash.  They say it only happens in tropical climates and requires an utterly cloudless day.  I’ve encountered both, but never the flash.

“Have neither of you see that before?” Teal’c inquires.

“You have?” I can’t help asking. 

Somehow the Jaffa warrior and beaches just don’t seem to go together.

“I have indeed had the pleasure several times.”  A very rare smile steals across the usually stoic features.  “The last was with Ishta.”

I wisely keep my mouth shut.

Pretty cool; sun dogs and the green flash – sounds like comic book characters.  Though they’re naturally recurring phenomenon, we hardly ever see them on our home world.  I wonder briefly if these things are being manipulated for our benefit.

But why?  And by whom?  For what purpose?  I have no intention of letting my guard down, no matter how relaxed I ‘feel’, until I know all of the above.

Back in camp I unroll Daniel’s sleeping bag outside the tent and Teal’c settles him on top of it, spreading one of our thin space blankets over him.  Daniel immediately turns on his side and tucks up in his usual isopod imitation.  I bet if he’d stay asleep we could actually roll him around like a roly-poly.

I suspect he’s down for the night.  It’s been more than a month, but this is the most active he’s been since the appendicitis attack.  I haven’t been able to motivate him to do anything particularly physical since then.  I’m guessing because he’s not quite ready to believe it won’t happen again.  It was a very traumatic experience; nothing unusual in the life of Daniel Jackson, unfortunately, but it’s branded a new scar into his psyche, right over the barely healed scar of loosing his parents. 

Carter’s borrowed Teal’c’s kel’no’reem candles and is off in the bath while Teal’c and I are exchanging campaign stories by the campfire when Daniel suddenly sits straight up.  His eyes are wide, his mouth open in a silent scream more unnerving than any sound I’ve ever heard.

In two strides I snatch him up and the night is rent by an unearthly wail.  Not from Daniel, but he wakes with a shudder that travels the length of the small body pressed against me. The arms clasp immediately around my neck, his cast nearly cutting off my circulation.  The legs wrap around my waist with a strength born of incalculable fear.

“Teal’c?” 

But he’s gone already, into the forest, his staff weapon missing from the ordnance on top of the M.A.L.P. 

Before I can get my hands on my P-90, Carter’s in the clearing, barefoot, still shoving an arm into her tank top.

“What the hell?” she breathes, snatching up both guns and shoving mine at me, racing to circle the perimeter as I kill the low lights she’s rigged around the camp.  She circles once and moves silently to stand by us. 

“Daniel?” she asks softly.  “Do you know what it is?” 

“I think it’s a tree,” he whispers, his voice shaking.  “I think one of the trees woke up.  I didn’t do it, Jack.” 

He’s trembling now, as if from ague, and he presses his cheek tight to mine.

“It’s okay, Sport.”  I whisper.  “Can you give me just a little breathing space?  Thanks,” I suck in air as quietly as possible when he loosens his hold and press my cheek back against his. 

I’ve only got him on one arm and can’t hold him as tightly as he wants to be held, the other hand has my P-90.  Carter handed it to me live and in firing position.  Her shoulder’s pressed to mine, on the side Daniel’s on.  She’s slanted slightly away from us and we’re standing with our backs to the pile of rocks.  It’s the most defensible position we have. 

An interminable wait follows, my internal time clock tells me it’s a good twenty minutes before Teal’c steps back into the clearing.  I don’t hear him, only sense him as he moves toward us as silently as a shadow. 

“There is nothing out there, O’Neill.  However, I recommend we return at once through the Stargate.  I believe one of the trees may have woken.  If that is the case, merely our presence here could be the catalyst.”

I hear what he’s not saying.  Daniel’s presence could be the catalyst. 

“Let’s go.  We’ll send SG-7 back for anything that’s irreplaceable.” 

“I’ll get a flashlight,” Carter starts for the M.A.L.P.

“No, there’s enough light to make it out of here and once we’re at the water it will reflect enough to dial the Gate.  Let’s go,” I repeat. 

I don’t want anything artificial attracting attention to us.  I just want out of here and I don’t give a damn whether we’ve been drawn here or not. 

We’re not staying.

The tide’s on the way out, there’s only a trickle of water running over the sandbar leading to the Stargate.  We’re not at a dead run, but we’re certainly not strolling leisurely either, so it takes us considerably less time to get back to the Gate. 

Teal’c pulls ahead of us and starts the dialing sequence, pressing his palm over the red hub in the center as we pass him. 

We’re nearly to the dais when I turn back.

No kawoosh.

“What?”

Teal’c says nothing and I see him press each glyph with deliberation, spread his palm once more over the hub, and look up.

Nothing.

“The dialing device is locked, O’Neill.  We cannot dial out.”

Oh, for cryin’ out loud!  Enough already! 

I’m not doing another unfortunate event.  And I’m seriously pissed now. 

Abruptly, Daniel sits up, shoving back off my shoulder so I have to adjust quickly or drop him. 

“Carter!” 

She snatches my P-90 out of the air because I don’t have time to do more than warn her as I grab Daniel. 

“I have to go back,” he says urgently.  “Put me down, Jack, I have to go back.”

“No, and no.”  I tighten my hold when he squirms.

“Yes.  I have to go back.  I can help it!”  He grabs my face in both small hands.  “Let me go, Jack.  If I don’t, it will die.  Let me go,” he begs, sounding so much like big Daniel I want to shake him until his teeth rattle.

“No.”  I’m not going to argue.

“Please, I have to go.  I have to!” 

His eyes roll back in his head and he goes limp, sliding through my arms like a wet mackerel.  And the little shit is off and running the moment his feet hit the sand.

I’m so stunned I just stand there staring after him.  Teal’c, however, snatches him by the back of his shirt, except somehow he manages to twist away even from the Jaffa. 

We’re after him in a heartbeat, but he’s fleeter than a deer.  And we’re at a serious disadvantage; it appears he knows where he’s going and we’re having to follow a little sprite dressed in camo in the frickin’ dark!

I’m going to kill him!  Just as soon as I make sure he’s safe.

“Daniel!” 

So much for stealth. 

“Carter, get back and light the camp.  If we lose him, I want him to be able to find his way back!”

Daniel, still at least a hundred feet ahead of us, crashes into the woods only about thirty feet beyond the path.  Carter veers off toward camp.

The forest slows him, but it slows us, too, and he’s always just out of arm’s length, flitting through the trees, both arms out reaching, feeling, stretching to find the tree that’s in pain. 

We can hear it groaning now; a low, rumbling sound I think I may actually be feeling more than I’m hearing.  The ground under our feet is rippling slightly, as though a non-rector scale registering earthquake is shaking the island.

And then there’s silence and the earth stills and I know he’s found the tree and he’s so dead!  I’m going to handcuff him to me for the remainder of his natural life!

He’s plastered to the damn thing, arms around it, face pressed against the tree as tightly as he had his cheek pressed to mine just a few minutes ago.  I can’t tell if it’s agony or ecstasy on his face, or some of both. 

Teal’c slams to his knees behind him, reaching to lay a broad hand on his back. 

Daniel takes no notice.  He’s pouring himself into the tree and I want to rip him off like a piece of bark, but I don’t know what will happen to him if I try.  It’s the only thing holding me back and he is SO dead when we’re done with this!

The sagging branches of the tree slowly begin to stretch out.  With a little hitch, the trunk his small arms nearly encompass, straightens, and stands taller.  Even in the starlit dark I can see the leaves unfurling from their death curl.

Daniel’s arms sag.  For an instant he looks like he’s going to sag right down with them, then he steps back away from Teal’c’s hand, keeping a hand of his own on the tree, and looks at me over his shoulder.

Out on the beach with the water reflecting the moon and starlight it was nearly as light as day.  We’re in deep shadow here under the dense canopy created by the trees.  I can only see movement, no details.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“Is the tree all right?”

“It is now.”

“Are you done?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go.”

Neither Daniel nor Teal’c move. 

“Are you mad at me?”

“Let’s go,” I repeat, in my not-to-be-messed with Colonel voice. 

Even Teal’c responds to it. 

“I can walk,” Daniel says, when Teal’c picks him up.

The camp is ablaze with lights.  Carter’s pacing, P-90 in one hand, uncharacteristically chewing the fingernails on her other hand.  She stops dead as we enter the clearing, I see her eyes close briefly, and then she’s rushing to Teal’c and Daniel.

“Are you all right?”  She’s running her hands all over him, checking for injuries, assuring herself he’s still in one piece.  “Daniel, you scared the shit out of us!”  She pulls him out of Teal’c’s arms and hugs him hard enough to make his eyes bulge.  “Are you all right?” she repeats, leaning back to check him visually, too.

“I’m tired, Sam.  Can I go back to bed?”

“No, you may not, but you can put him down on his sleeping bag, Carter.  And then I would appreciate it if the two of you would give us a few minutes.”

“O’Neill . . .”

“Please go back to the DHD and see if there’s anything we can do to get it working.”  When neither complies, I raise an eyebrow.  “Do I need to make it an order?”

“Colonel, maybe . . .” Carter frowns, but backs down with a sharp sigh when I just look at her.  “Yes, sir,” she snaps, which is as close as she ever comes to insubordination. 

“Sit up, Daniel.” 

Maybe Teal’c’s right; maybe I have been too lenient. 

He pulled his knees up to his chest the minute Carter put him down and slumped over on his side.  The finger’s in his mouth and he looks cherubic – now.  Ten minutes ago he looked like the devil’s spawn. 

“Did you hear the words can you, or will you, come out of my mouth?”

“Jack . . .”

He does sit up and his arms come out to be picked up.  There are tears trembling on those ‘women would kill for them’ lashes and his lower lip is quivering.

I will not be diverted by puppy dog eyes or crystalline tears.  His hands sink to his lap, the chin goes down, and I see the tears plop on the plaster cast.  

“You made a promise.”

“But . . .” he starts . . . stops . . . then starts again.  “I . . .” and stops again.

“You made a promise and then you deliberately made me think you were sick, or hurt, in order to break that promise.”

“That’s not true,” he says quietly.  “I promised I wouldn’t try to wake them up.  I didn’t wake it up,” he sniffs, “the tree woke up by itself.  I only wanted to help.”

A distinction worthy of the linguist he once was and will be again.  A very fine distinction, but true none the less.  I told him to leave them alone.  I never made him promise anything other than he wouldn’t try to wake them. 

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