"Take me to Daniel!"

"I cannot."

"Show him to me!" She stamped her foot. "I know he's there."

"I assure you he is not on this ship."

"He is! He's out there!" she yelled, taking a step closer to the force field, raising her hands into fists. "You can't hide him from me!"

"You must not try to penetrate the energy field. It's there for your protection."

"Liar, liar, snake-pants on fire!" She gave a quick jab at the barrier making it spark. "Bring Daniel to me!"

"You must calm yourself."

"No, you must let me see Daniel!" Her yelling became louder.

Ba'al wearily shook his head.

She gave a scream of fury and despair and threw herself at the barrier, clearly hoping the weight of her body would break her through.

"My Lord, how long can this continue?" his First Prime hesitantly asked.

Ba'al didn't reply. Though his face remained impassive in front of his Jaffa, he inwardly cringed as Annika dropped like a stone. His First Prime was right. This could not go on. It was the third such episode where His Beloved had lacked the capacity to comprehend what her situation was and had flung herself at the cell's barrier. He wasn't adverse to torture, in fact he took great pleasure in inflicting it. However, his lust for the act came from breaking his victim, to see the gradual wearing down of their mind until they succumbed to his will. There was no joy in 'playing' with someone who didn't comprehend. Besides, the repeated escape attempts were draining the cell's power source. Having the field collapse so Anubis could continue his assault on His Beloved did not fall in with his plans, nor did having His Beloved kill herself. He turned to his third in command, who he’d posted as the primary guard of the seer, asking something that had never been of importance before. "You have sired offspring?"

"Yes, My Lord. A boy."

"Then you have had experience dealing with childish temper tantrums?"

"Some, My Lord," the Jaffa confirmed, though it was his wife who'd had more experience. His god gave him very little free time in which to spend time with his loved ones. When those rare times occurred, his son tended to be on his best behavior, enjoying the experience with his father. "But not where I could not physically be with him to calm him down."

"When My Beloved wakes again, use your parental tactics to make her see reason."

"Yes, My Lord." He didn't let his doubt show that his assigned task was achievable. Words, stern or otherwise, had had little effect thus far on the woman-child.

The Goa'uld motioned for his First Prime to leave with him. "Take my personal teltak to our former home world. You'll be escorting one of the Tau'ri back with you."

"At once, My Lord." He gave a head bow, then turned off at the juncture to take him to the glider bay.

Ba'al once again headed for the technical level.

Jack, Sam and Teal'c were on level nineteen in a last ditch effort to decipher the weapon before the one hour deadline, when they received word from Walter that Ba'al's hologram was again in the briefing room demanding their presence. Concerned by his early appearance they hotfooted it down, meeting up with Hammond in the corridor. Taking a moment to make sure they didn't look like they'd run to his beck and call, Jack lead the way in with a casual saunter.

"Balls, you need to get your watch fixed. You're a half an hour early."

"I have a second demand that must be carried out immediately."

"Yeah, you really should talk to Daniel about diplomacy since you've got him on hand," Jack drawled.

"What do you want?" Hammond asked before the Goa'uld could give any kind of retort.

"A member of SG-1 must come to my ship now."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Two of us isn't enough for ya'?"

"My Beloved is acting erratically."

"Being held prisoner by a snake has that effect on her."

"Her mind appears...damaged...infantile."

Ba'al tried not to let his worry show but wasn't entirely successful. That fact alone made the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end.

"She does not grasp the severity of her situation. She is demanding to see Jackson and has thrown herself repeatedly against the force field in an attempt to escape and find him. If she persists she will cause herself more damage. I need someone she knows and trusts to keep her calm."

"How uncharacteristically caring of you," Sam remarked.

Ba'al scowled. "The seer is of no use to me if she is dead. And I'm sure you would like her to be somewhat mentally stable when this event is over. However if you'd prefer your teammate to have the mentality of a child, then that is your decision."

Teal'c hid his natural revulsion of the parasite before him and focused on helping his teammate. "The solution is simple. Take Daniel Jackson to his wife."

"That is not possible at the moment."

"Why?"

Ba'al hesitated for a fraction of a second. "He is still within the sarcophagus. As I said earlier his wounds were extensive..."

"Cut the crap." Jack's tone was harsh. Damned the snakehead for that miniscule pause because it had destroyed his happy delusion that Daniel was alive. "You don't have him, do you?"

Ba'al was reluctant to admit that he'd been caught out in a lie. "No. His body was somehow missed by the ring transporter. Curiously his clothing arrived intact." He couldn't help but notice the sharp pained looks exchanged between the Tau'ri and the slight slump to their shoulders. It was like the last flicker of hope being extinguished. "You know the reason for this anomaly?"

"We do," Hammond confirmed, but he didn't elaborate. "Describe in more detail Annika's behavior."

"When she first regained consciousness, she spoke the language of the Ancients. She is now speaking your tongue, however her vocabulary is that of a small child...as are her temper tantrums."

"Is she slurring?" Sam asked.

"Her pronunciation is clear." Ba'al grimaced remembering her tirades. "And loud."

"What about her coordination?"

"Disjointed to begin with, not so much now."

"How about her cognitive skills?"

"Unclear. She obviously remembers Jackson but I can't tell if she recalls in what capacity she knows him. Her attention span is minute, jumping from one topic to another depending on what distracts her, except where Jackson is concerned. I also believe she is suffering pain." He gestured to his forehead. "She has not mentioned it, but she has often rubbed at her head, grimacing."

"Does she recognize you as a snakehead?" Jack asked.

Ba'al lifted his head defiantly. "She recognizes me as her god."

Teal'c's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Annika Jackson refers to you as 'My Lord' or 'My God' without the use of derogatory sarcasm?"

The Goa'uld hesitated.

"Come on, Ba'al, we don't have time to pander to your over-inflated ego," Sam snapped. "We need to know if Anubis somehow was able to brainwash her or does she still see you as the twisted perverted son-of-a-bitch we know you are."

"Her insolence towards the Gods has not altered." Ba'al sighed, "Though it is difficult to determine if it is an automatic response or true comprehension."

"What is her physical condition at the moment?"

"Unconscious. Based on her previous recoveries it will be less than fifteen of your minutes before she awakens again."

The three members of SG-1 exchanged glances.

The general watched the silent byplay. He already knew what their response would be. Regardless of any 'order' he may give or the risk that this was an elaborate trap, Ba'al taking advantage of their situation to capture one of the remaining members of the elite team, there was only one course of action. The only question was which one of them would go. Hammond had a pretty good idea of that answer as well.

Jack twisted back to Ba'al. "How do I get to you?"

"Go to my former home world, the one you infiltrated most recently. My First Prime will collect you." His gaze flickered to Sam and Teal'c. "I will return to arrange the transport of the weapon and you two once O'Neill arrives." In the blink of an eye he vanished.

"Arrogant bastard," Jack muttered. "Assuming we're just going to rock on up with the weapon."

"Colonel, is there really any doubt?" Hammond sighed. "We're at a standstill as far as that mystery weapon goes. A month of work and we don't even know what it was designed to do. If Ba'al has information then for the moment we need him."

"If he has it," Jack emphasized the general's own word. "He lied about having Daniel."

"But I don't think he's lying about this, sir," Sam voiced her opinion, that was backed up by Teal'c.

"Ba'al has too much at stake to play such games."

"I agree." Hammond rose. "I'm going to check on the progress of the FREC leaders and IOA meetings. If possible I'd prefer all of you go together rather than send you, Colonel, in alone."

"Appreciated, sir," Jack nodded. He wasn't very hopeful that the politicians would have reached a decision on the weapon so soon. In truth he expected them to hum and har until the time limit was up, forcing the President to stand alone in the decision and thus be a scapegoat for any negative consequences. Not, he thought ruefully, that being a scapegoat would matter much if they were all enslaved or wiped out. He gave a weak smile to Sam and Teal'c. "Looks like I'm gearing up."

The trio headed for the supply room.

"O'Neill," Teal'c began cautiously. "Considering the tension between Annika Jackson and yourself, should not I or Major Carter be the one to assist her?"

Jack mulled the valid point as he added MREs and spare clothing to the backpack, for he didn't know how long this mission would take. He hadn't had a chance to explain or apologize before all hell broke loose and Casper had still been pissed. However, besides Daniel, he was the only one who'd had a bit of experience with snapping Casper out of a 'funk'. He shook his head. "You two are our best bet at deciphering that damned weapon. That's not my thing. Looking out for Casper while Daniel's playing all powerful jellyfish is mine." He was rather pleased that he managed to get that quip out without his voice totally betraying the tight knot of pain that had settled in his chest. Daniel dead. Again. Ascended. Again. Would he return to them? Again? Jack clung to that hope, then pushed the thought aside. He had to focus on the problem at hand and the clock was ticking. "Okay, campers, let's start a list of possible things that I'm gonna need to help Casper."

Teal'c voiced the first. "Annika Jackson regularly requires cleansing after contact with a negative presence."

"Right, the vanilla oil," Jack nodded. "She's keeps a bottle in her vest, but I'll add a couple of spares."

"But Anubis didn't touch her physically," Sam pointed out. "There's nowhere to rub it in."

"Okay, how do you cleanse a mind?"

"Meditation," Teal'c's response was immediate.

"From how Ba'al described Annika's behavior, her attention span is...um...non-existent, except for trying to get to Daniel."

"Maybe she doesn't need to meditate, as such," Jack mused. "T, you still got some of your kelnoreem stuff on base?"

"I do."

"Good, gonna need some of it."

A few minutes later the items were stowed in Jack's kit and they had moved on to the less spiritual supplies. They arrived at the infirmary, where for the moment there was a temporary lull before the next wave of injured arrived.

"Jenkins," Jack called the major over from restocking the supplies and quickly told what they knew of Annika's condition.

"I take it there's no chance of being able to do an MRI or at least a CAT scan?" the doctor asked.

"Nope, and probably a snowball's chance in hell to get me anything else besides what I take now."

Jenkins nodded, his mind already forming a list of treatments. "Let's start with the small stuff." He gave three different strengths of pain meds. "Depending on how she describes the intensity of the headaches you can determine which one to give her." Handed over an air pressure syringe and three ampoules. "If the headaches are because of her visions, this has helped her in the past. Don't give her a second dose for at least four hours. Try to keep her fluids up. From how you've described her behavior, I don't recommend attempting to insert an IV, even if you had the training to do it. She'd more than likely rip it out even if you could get her to stay still long enough insert it. Take Gatorade and candy. It'll replenish her body's minerals and keep her glucose up, at least temporarily."

The doctor paused as he picked up more air syringes and vials. No point in mentioning the very long and technical names of the drugs he was handing over. The colonel probably wouldn't remember them anyway. As long as he remembered what each was for, that's all that mattered. He grabbed a highlighter from the pen caddy and drew a quick squiggle over the labels. "This is what Doctor Fraiser used on Doctor Jackson when he had the people of Talthus downloaded into his brain. If you think Anubis is controlling her or is inside her mind somehow, try it. I don't know how effective it will be, if at all, but it may help to bring Annika's personality to the forefront."

Jack nodded, mentally noting the yellow color code. He caught the quick look from Sam and Teal'c. Everything was happening so quickly, that they hadn't considered the possibility that Anubis may be trapped in Annika's head, and was glad the doctor had tried to cover that base. "How long will it last?"

"Impossible to say. She could be lucid for a few seconds or a couple of hours. It won't be more than two, but you can't give her another dose for at least six hours." More vials were added to the case, these were marked with red. "This is an anti-psychotic. Use it only as a last resort, if she becomes violent. It will hopefully only calm her, but twenty-five percent of patients become practically catatonic."

"Hopefully?" Teal'c didn't like the sound of that.

"We don't know what Anubis did. If he somehow messed with her brain chemistry the effects could be adverse. I'm including two shots of epi, just in case. And these are ordinary sedatives." He added a bottle of pills and then as an after thought a bottle in liquid form.

Jack studied the now full satchel. "I'm hoping I won't need these drug cocktails. Gonna try Casper's traditional remedy first."

Jenkins nodded. "You do realize that there is no scientific proof that vanilla oil has any medicinal properties. Any relief Annika receives is psychosomatic. She believes it works, so it does. But that will only go so far. And if she has regressed to a stage in her early childhood before her gift manifested, she may not remember what the vanilla oil is for."

"Well, she remembers Daniel, so we're crossing our fingers that her subconscious will kick in." Jack carefully tucked the drugs in his backpack.

"Try and keep her talking, keep her mind stimulated, it might help."

"Um...sir, there's something we haven't considered," Sam hesitantly spoke.

"What's that, Carter?"

"Annika's regression may not have anything to do with Anubis."

The colonel warily motioned for her to continue. Just from the look on her face, he knew he wasn't going to like what was coming.

"If Daniel's Ascended," Sam swallowed. She couldn't bring herself to say 'dead'. "Annika would know about it."

Teal'c gave a slow, regretful nod. "Their bond would be severed."

"This regression could be the way Annika is coping with that."

Jack's shoulder's slumped a little. He'd been trying his best to deny that they had lost Daniel again. Gave a weak smile. "Jenkins, I don't suppose you've got a magic pill for grief?"

"I'm afraid not, Colonel."

The bell above his head tinkled as the door closed behind him. He blinked a little bemusedly. Odd, he thought. It was as bright inside as out, like the covering roof and ceiling were no match for the powerful light of the sun. The sign just inside the entrance read, 'Please seat yourself'. No one had paid any attention to his arrival, not even the staff bustling around the tables, so he decided to follow the sign's request and then try to work out what the hell was going on. The small frown on his face was one of concentration as he simultaneously racked his brain to recall anything of how he came to be here, wherever 'here' was, and look for a seat in the busy diner. There were a couple of spare counter stools, but he didn't relish the idea of turning his back on a room full of strangers. He spied an empty booth and made his way over, dodging a waitress carrying a tray of food.

With his mind irritatingly elusive to anything that had happened before he stepped into the casual restaurant, he turned his attention to the diner itself. Maybe this place held a clue. Taking in the vinyl of the chairs, the design of the decor right down to the shape of the salt and pepper shakers, and the uniforms of the staff, he was struck by two thoughts battling for dominance. Where in the world, or rather which world, was he? And why was this place so familiar? It was a dual familiarity, yet they were unrelated to each other. More than that he couldn't say. And where were the others? And why wasn't he feeling as concerned as he instinctively knew he should be? For the moment, it was like his emotions had been left outside, or more precisely, hadn't caught up to his befuddled mind yet. A memory attempted to break through the fuzzy haze of his mind, only a vague trickle made it. He'd just been with the others, hadn't he? On a mission? A waitress suddenly appearing at his table with order book in hand broke his train of thought.

"So, what can I get for you?"

Daniel's head shot up. That voice... Blue eyes locked on the woman's face, widening in shock. Oma Desala, or someone who was the spitting image of the Ascended being, was a waitress in this mysterious diner? Before he could form any sort of reply, coherent or otherwise, a brash, slightly condescending voice intruded.

"Hey!"

He turned to look at the man, who had twisted on his counter stool to grab their attention. He was quite portly with beady eyes, dressed in a business suit.

"What do I have to do to get some more coffee around here?"

"Find your enlightenment."

The waitress's saccharine reply at least cleared up one mystery, though it created a whole new slew of questions. The woman wasn't just an uncanny look-alike, she was Oma.

She returned her attention to him, pen poised ready to take his order.

Thoroughly confused and a little irritated at this 'act' Oma was putting on, Daniel asked caustically, "Menus?"

"We don't need them here, just order what you'd like."

"Okay." He fixed her with a hard stare. "I'll have the truth with a side order of clarity, please."

She held his gaze. "Anubis launched an attack, both physical and mental. Your wife collapsed under the strain. In your efforts to protect her you got shot in the back. That's where I stepped in. How's that?"

"Pretty clear." Daniel was surprised by how steady his voice was.

"Well, we aim to please," she replied brightly. "Customer comes first, you know."

"So I'm Ascended again."

"Not exactly. Sort of a stop along the way. You have to make that choice for yourself."

Daniel blinked, something clicking in his head. The word sprang from his lips in the hope that in saying it out loud the memory would remain and not disappear into the void of his mind. "Waffles."

Without missing a beat to the totally unrelated switch in conversation, she asked, "Bacon on the side?"

"No. I remember this place."

"You should, it came from your mind."

"My grandfather brought me here after my parents' funeral. I had waffles."

"Waffles it is!" Oma smiled as though what to eat was the biggest decision he had to make. She turned to give his order to the kitchen.

With a frown Daniel called her back. "Wait. How do I know it's really you? If Anubis is using a mental attack, how do I know this isn't some sort of trick?"

Oma gave him an almost sympathetic smile. "How deep is the river if you cannot see the bottom?"

The businessman who'd interrupted earlier butted in again. "Deeper than the coffee in my mug, I'll tell you that."

She gave a barely perceptible grimace to Daniel. "Excuse me."

Daniel watched bemusedly as she walked behind the counter, rattling off menu lingo as if she spoke it everyday. "Frank, I need a Noah's boy in a blanket, two hen fruit wrecked on a shingle with a mystery in the alley. A warm Eve with a moldy lid and two checkerboards, alright? Oh yeah, hold the pig." She picked up a fresh pot of coffee, poured the impatient businessman a refill, then returned to Daniel's booth with a clean cup and saucer. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"It's all a bit fuzzy," Daniel admitted, absently noting that the rich brew smelt like his favorite blend.

"Here, nothing like a good cup of java to get the mind flowing." Oma slid the cup before him.

His eyes were drawn to the dark liquid that seemed to swirl in a mini whirlpool in the cup. The movement was hypnotic, causing memories to prod his mind. Dinner...They were all together at a dinner party...

She awoke with a sharp shooting pain to her head. She waited for the nausea to subside before attempting to open her eyes. Not that opening her eyes helped much. All she saw was blackness. She did a quick self-assessment. She could move her arms, her torso was free, but her right leg was trapped beneath... carefully she sat up and felt around the darkness and came in contact with gritty metal....some sort of beam. Tried wiggling her toes and was relieved to be able to do so. Her leg must luckily be in a slight dip in the ground. Okay, so aside from a probable concussion, I'm okay, just pinned. At least for the moment. If the beam shifted, she'd be in trouble.

Tentatively she began groping around to either side of her to get a sense of her surroundings. Her fingers brushed against what felt like a tac vest. "Dodger, is that you?" Janet reached further across the chest, and it rose and fell slightly. Then her hand froze as she realized the vest was too hard for standard issue. The wetness she felt wasn't blood, it was slimy... Shit. Trapped with a super soldier. Snatching her hand away and wiping the ichor from her hand on her pants legs, she searched her other side. This time she came in contact with cotton and a warm arm. "Captain?"

She received a low groan in response and she took that as a good sign. Noise meant he was alive. Gingerly she moved her hand over his chest. When it landed on his top vest pocket, she opened it up and fished inside. Her fingers closed over a small box. "Oh, sweet boy, I never thought I'd be glad you smoke." Removing the box of matches, she struck a light.

In the dim yellow glow, Dodger's head lolled to the side.

"Come on, Dodger, wake up." Janet stretched a little further, trying to check his pulse. "Don't make me use your first name."

"That's cruel, Doc." His rasp was groggy.

Janet felt a steady beat at his neck. "I just got you out of my infirmary. Don't want to put you back in."

His eyelids drifted open and he gave a weak smile. "I'm trying to beat Rock Doc's record."

"Even Daniel has the sense to take a break between injuries," the doctor teased to hide her relief. His second response had been more lucid, the glazed film to his eyes already being replaced by full awareness of their situation. The match burned down and she shook it out before it reached her fingers. Lit another so she could assess the captain's injuries. Blood was trickling down his face from a gash on his forehead, and beneath the coating of dust and dirt he looked pale. "Captain, can you move?"

"Haven't tried yet."

"Start small. Fingers and toes, and then arms and legs." The match burned down again and they were once again plunged into darkness. Janet waited a few moments, listening to him shift slightly and then struck a third match.

This time he was propped up on his elbow, if a little drunkenly, patting around his chest. At first Janet thought he was checking his ribs for injury but just as the match burned down again, he ripped open his bottom pocket. A second later there was a cracking sound and they were bathed in a dim green light.

He waved the glow stick at her. "Don't waste a man's matches, Doc."

The pair shared a smile that was somewhat strained. Both knew what he really meant. The small flame of the match ate up oxygen, and trapped as they were, there was no way of knowing how much they had left.

"Besides that cut, are you injured?" she asked.

"Just bruised...I think."

"Can you shuffle closer so I can confirm that? I'm pinned."

"Nope, sorry, Doc. We're a matching set." He gestured down to his foot that was buried beneath a collection of rocks.

"Can you move your toes?"

He paused before answering checking his movement. "Yeah."

"Keep testing every few seconds to keep the circulation up."

"Yes, ma'am." The captain was scanning their confined space. They were surrounded by a mix of rock and steel in roughly a six foot area. A ragged, narrow strip of metal that was all that was left of the glider wing, stretched diagonally above their heads, seemed to be the only thing keeping the rock above from crushing them. There wasn't a speck of sunlight to be seen. He also studied the Doc, checking that she was uninjured. His hand reached out to a wisp of hair that had come loose from beneath her helmet that had miraculously remained on her head. "That's a good sign."

Janet frowned at the intimate gesture. "What is?"

"Your hair. It's moving slightly. Means there's a breeze coming in from somewhere."

Well, at least they wouldn't suffocate. "We've got company." She shifted slightly to reveal the Kull.

"Charming," Dodger grimaced, craning his neck for a better view. "Has he...it...run out of juice?"

Janet shrugged. "It's breathing but hasn't tried to move. The symbiote is probably trying to heal it."

"You think it can?" He was warily watching the slow rise and fall of its body armor.

"I honestly don't know. Depends on what kind of injuries it has buried under all that rock."

All that was visible was the soldier's left arm, upper chest and part of the helmeted head. From the angle, the rest of the body was trapped by the same wingspan pinning Janet's leg.

"Did your radio survive?" Dodger had already tried to locate his, but the Velcro strap that usually held it in place on his shoulder was torn, the device nowhere to be seen.

Janet stopped her own search of her pockets, looking for what med supplies she had on her person, since her kit bag was nowhere to be seen. Probably buried, she thought. She tugged her radio from its pouch and handed it to him.

Dodger twisted the dial and static crackled back. "Mayday, this is Richards of SG-2. Can anyone read me?"

They waited for a reply. After a few seconds of silence he tried again. "Mayday, this is Dodger, I'm with the Doc. We're trapped in what used to be the outcropping, bearing sixty degrees north of the 'gate." Only static came back. "Well, we know the rock on this planet messes with radio waves."

"Sure. That's what it is." Janet wouldn't let the tremor show in her voice. She knew that another possible reason was that there was no one left out there to hear them. She found a pack of antiseptic swabs and tore one open. "Can you lean forward a bit? I want to clean that cut."

The young man shifted as best he could. Tried to stifle a hiss when Janet gently wiped the swab over the raw wound, clearing the worst of the grit and blood away.

"Sorry, Captain."

"S'alright. I'll get my revenge." He plucked one of packets from her hand and ripped it open. "You've got one of your own."

"Really?" Her free hand automatically reached up. She hadn't even noticed the warm trickle from her cheek.

Dodger stopped her before her fingers could smear the blood anymore than it was. "Let me."

Janet held still as he carefully cleaned the area, using a second wipe for the cut itself. "It's almost stopped bleeding."

"Yours is still free flowing." She did a quick assessment before the blood began to seep out again. She was pretty sure she'd removed all the grit. "It's not deep, but head wounds always bleed a lot. Hold this to it for a few minutes." While he'd cleaned her cut, she'd pulled sterile pads from another of her pockets and she now passed one over. Opened one for herself and the pair pressed the wads against their respective wounds.

With nothing left to do but wait they relaxed as best they could given the circumstances.

"So, Doc, seen any good movies lately?"