Author's Notes: If you hadn't already figured it out... this one will tell you. But the story is far from over yet!
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM/UA, World Gekko Corp. and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment purposes and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author. Not to be archived without permission of the author(s).
Part 10: Daniel
"Jack!"
Jack looks like he's just seen a ghost.
In a way, he has...
It's a feeling I'm recently familiar with.
Jack is still breathing deeply, clinging onto my hand like a lifeline. I know how he feels...and now I think I know why.....
The thing is...how can we stop it?
Can we stop it?
"Jack? Look at me..."
He looks up at me, still shaky but recovering. I have to make him listen while we still have time...
"Jack, what's the last 'real' thing you remember from our last mission?"
He looks at me like he thinks I've gone over that edge we've been dancing on all 'night'...but he's trying...
"I remember....the Keeper. He was really pissed because we let the cat out of the bag. Or rather, the residents out of the environment. Then we gated home..."
I'm nodding my head, trying to fight this pervasive exhaustion and piece together a theory that on the surface may seem more than a little far-fetched, but...
"Did we?" I ask it quietly. "Jack....What did you 'dream' about....?"
Jack looks at me, eyes clouded by the same weight that has pressed upon me through all of this...
"You and me on Abydos, you getting shot when we helped the Tollans, me....us...dying on..."
"Ernest's planet? Me possessed by a Goa'uld? Apophis attacking Earth?"
He's nodding now, catching on. "Nem, but you died. Freezing to death in Antarctica. You're trying to tell me..."
Even as I nod my head, the room fades.
The facade of normalcy is no longer needed and as we turn around, I know what we'll see.
The Keeper.
Jack is livid, stalking toward the Keeper with his fists raised.
The Keeper touches the device on his forearm and we're back in the museum again. I'm quite frankly afraid to turn around, afraid to see if it's going to happen again. This has all just been too much...I don't think I can go through this again, too....
Jack takes my arm, squeezing tightly. He looks...there...and shakes his head, no.
The Keeper is still looking at us with that sickening, inscrutable smile. "You are, indeed, an obstinate race. It took time for me to construct a scenario capable of distracting you."
He smiles again, indicating the museum. "My initial efforts were faulty, but I learned from those mistakes. I realized the only way that you would play was if I could keep you from realizing that you were. I added extra substances to your infusions to keep you further under and, since you, O'Neill were the more aggressive, I added the extra distraction of your friend's incapacity."
"But we have realized it," Jack sneers at him. " And now we want out!"
"I don't think so." The Keeper's smile fades. " The two of you are an inexhaustible source of entertainment for the residents. Such rich interaction, such a wealth of magination! They have grown very fond of you. I think we'll keep you."
"You'll keep us?' Jack sputters. "We aren't some damn lab rats!"
"Don't you care how much pain you're causing us?" I jump in, trying to lend a voice of reason to Jack's tirade.
The Keeper looks at me blankly. "You have suffered no physical injury...yet."
Yet? What's that supposed to mean? I can see Jack caught that one, too.
"There are other kinds of pain...Have you so completely lost touch with reality that you can't see the kind of emotional pain you're inflicting?"
The Keeper looks at us blankly. I don't think he understands. They've been so devoid of outside influence, simple human interaction, for so long....
Jack still looks like he wants to punch something.
The Keeper just smiles again and touches the device.
The room fades into a replica of Skaara's ship.