The Stranger Within
written by Tiffany May Harrsch

Back to previous part.

Daniel woke to the quiet sound of people whispering around him. He could hear them talking, even make out what they were saying if he concentrated hard enough. In vain he tried to force his eyes open, but the lids wouldn't obey. He was aware of someone grasping his hand, squeezing it tightly. He tried to speak, but there was something in his mouth preventing him from doing so.

Someone sat on the bed beside him, radiating warmth to his chest. A hand caressed his forehead, no voice accompanying the gentle stroke. The cool cloth returned there. He was grateful for the touch. His body ached from disuse. Sha're? No, she didn't have the scent of lilacs in the springtime. Becky. Horror swept through his mind. Guillian-Barre. Again.

Becky! he screamed to whoever would listen, don't leave me! Please don't leave me!

The presence brushed hot and moist against his cheek, planting the softest of kisses there. She gripped his hand fiercely. The bed shook just a little with her quiet sobs, as she now lay over his still chest. Frantically he tried to force his body to react somehow, give her some sign he was aware and did not want her to leave. But it betrayed him. And he lay there, knowing her pain and unable to help her.

"Becky," came a soft, familiar voice. The pressure on his chest rose in response, but she still gripped his hand. "He may pull through this, he may not."

Jack? Is that you, Jack?

"You know what the docs are saying. You're still young. He'd want you to go out and do something with your life."

His hand was lifted to her face as the weeping began anew. Tightly she squeezed it, trying desperately to infuse a part of her life into him.

"It's been over a month. It's time for you to move on."

Shut up, Jack! Becky, please stay! Don't leave me! Not again!

The softest of kisses brushed his cheek once again, a hot tear falling where lips had once caressed him. One last fleeting brush of her hand on his forehead, one final squeeze of his hand. She placed it across his chest. He felt her rise from the bed, taking her warmth, her sustenance with her.

"Why don't we get some dinner?" Jack's voice asked. "We can drowned our sorrows together."

The quiet opening of the door was the only reply, briefly changing the pressure in the room, then returning it to where it had been a moment ago. The soft beeping of the machines around him were all that kept him company now. A tear welled in the corner of his eye, defying the disease which had so thoroughly destroyed the life he had fought so hard to build. It ran down the side of his face, unnoticed.

The wet streak on his face brought Daniel abruptly to consciousness. He blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Not a hospital room, the sky and grass showed a definite lack of a room of any sort. But it seemed that he really was alone.

He reached to swipe at the chilled reminder of the… what? Dream? Memory? It felt like an impossible mixture of both. It was certainly real enough to cause this evidence of pain.

The tear was forgotten when his arm did not move. Quelling a surge of panic, he instinctively switched to his right. The wriggling fingers before his face was proof that he had some command over his body. He rolled to his side and pushed himself up with the one hand to get a better look at himself and try to judge the extent of the problem. His left arm, it's fingers loosely curled, flopped uselessly at his side. He lifted it with his right hand and pulled the arm out. There was no obvious injury and no pain, not even the pins and needles of an awakening limb. Yet it would not respond to his instructions to move it.

The change is happening too fast. Daniel frowned at the thought. What the heck did that mean?

He had lamented on the same thing before. The disease taking only months to ravish him where it should have taken over a year. An image from the maybe dream flashed into mind. In the dream he had felt so useless, so powerless to communicate his love and need. He had almost looked forward to the stilling of his heart when Jack took Becky away…

Daniel swallowed hard and tried to push the uneasy thoughts away. He tried instead to focus on his motionless fingers. The paralysis was progressing much quicker than before. Only his hand would not move when he had tried to dial home.

Home. Oh, god, he never made it to get help!

He pushed up with his right hand, putting his left knee under himself with the intention of standing. Halfway through the motion, he met large golden eyes. Daniel never noticed his arm loose it's strength or meeting the ground again with a hard jar. He was transfixed by those beautiful eyes, that dust brown coat. He felt his breath leave him.

Becky.

She had come back to him.

L* L * L * L

There was no immediate sign of Daniel or SG 7. Not that Jack really expected to find them in the moments after exiting the Stargate, that would have been too easy.

The grass was trampled in a wide horse-shoe shape around the DHD and Stargate. Behind the 'gate, the dry, yellowed grass grew high and unhampered. Jack remembered reading someone's report speculating that some form of wildlife had caused the effect, as well as the path broken through to the trees. The author did not even try to wonder what the animals were doing congregating around the Stargate. Aside from the trampling and the near permanent trail, there had been no signs of habitation.

Jack wondered if SG 7 had been unlucky enough to find what the experts had missed.

Makepeace and his men fanned out, ready for the unexpected that did not come. The Marine glanced back at him, brows raised. Jack chose to take his silence as a professional curtsey. Although the missing were all members of the SGC, and hence meant looking for them with equal alacrity, there was a little more to it than that. In this case, one of those missing was a member of his team. Though surprised, Jack was also pleased that Makepeace was affording him the lead without any hassles.

Jack indicated that Makepeace should take half of the combined team and scout the older trail toward the trees and where SG 7 was to make camp. He would take the other half and investigate the paths to the right.

They were ragged, not well used, as if someone had decided to trudge out and beat their own path. And judging from the sharp smell of weed, he suspected that the damage had been recent.

The two new paths had started close together. He took Carter and followed one trail of broken grass, Teal'c and Johnson from SG 3 took the other, each searching for clues to the whereabouts of SG 7 and Daniel.

The trails spread apart as they walked, finding nothing useful. About five minutes out, the paths split sharply. Teal'c and Johnson were soon out of sight.

Their trail forked before long, one veering off the way they had come. Jack pondered the trail a moment, wondering if they had just started a wild goose chase. Unfortunately, other than the campsite and the conspicuously silent radio space, there was nothing else to go on to find out what had happened to their people.

"It will save us time to split up," Carter said, her words paralleling his thoughts. Jack didn't like the idea, but conceded the point. They took a trail each, agreeing to keep in radio contact.

The one Jack chose to follow dead-ended not far from him. There he found Daniel, sitting half obscured by the tall, dry grass.

"Daniel?"

Jack approached slowly, sensing that something was wrong but unable to place just what. The fact that Daniel was alone contributed to his unease. There was nothing of interest in the field, save for some bushes in the distance and Daniel himself. The wind was still, not even insects interrupted the silence.

"Daniel? You okay?"

Still no answer.

The first thing Jack noticed when he was close enough to make out details, was that Daniel's glasses were missing. His hair was a mess, looking as if it had not been cleaned or combed in days. His clothes were in a similar condition rumpled around his body.

A few wary steps closer, and Jack could see what had Daniel's rapt attention. A figure crouched in the long grass staring back at him.

Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Jack did a quick double check with the insane thought that there just might be a bear lurking about. This was definitely some sort of cat returning Daniel's stare with equal intensity.

It's fur was several shades darker than the grass, speckled here and there with lighter spots, as if it had been sprinkled with bleach. The ears stood up right and swiveled toward Daniel. It's eyes seamed large for the body, and were a shade of summer gold no Earth cat had ever possessed.

Jack came no closer. He trained his weapon and eyes both on the creature.

"Daniel," he commanded, keeping his voice low and steady. "Back away from it… slowly."

Daniel continued to stare at the creature. Was that pain he saw in those blue eyes?

"Now, Daniel!" Jack hissed.

Daniel started. He looked at Jack with confusion, then back at the cat. His eyes widened, as if he was just now noting the danger. He swallowed hard and tried to get to his feet.

Jack's attention wavered from the cat to his teammate. Daniel had managed to get to his knees without problem. When he pushed up from there, one foot refused to hold him. He fell to hands and knees… make that hand and knees. Daniel was also favoring his left arm. He tried pushing up again and failed.

The cat watched, it's ears somehow managing to perk up more. It lifted it's head from it's paws and tilted it slightly to a side. It's body, however, remained relaxed. If it was tensed for a spring, Jack couldn't tell.

Jack risked tuning his side to it long enough to help Daniel to his feet. Daniel had made it to his knees again, his left arm pressed against his side, when he looked up and paled.

"Jack, look out!"

Jack whirled around to see what he pointed at. Another cat, darker furred, bearing it's teeth and running straight for them. In midmotion, it bunched powerful hind legs and launched itself at Jack.

Jack did not hesitate to fire off a shot. A circle of red appeared on the cat's chest on the left side - the result of an unconscious aim to where the heart would be on a human. The cat never made a sound as the shot knocked it sideways. It crashed hard on the wounded shoulder, it's momentum causing it to slide a bit. Jack kept his weapon trained on it as it came to a halt. It was so motionless Jack would have lost sight of it in the tall grass, were it not the bright splotch of blood and the darker fur.

He heard an almost human cry mixed with an inhuman growl. The hairs on back of his neck standing up, Jack turned to find the first cat snarling and ready to pounce.

Daniel stared at it, pale faced. "Becky, no," he murmured, but made no move to get up or protect himself.

He named the cat? The part of his mind with the eye for the absurd yammered inanely at Jack.

"Daniel, move!" Jack fired a shot just as the cat leaped. It's spring was awkward at best, and Jack only managed to clip a back foot.

The cat landed between Jack and Daniel, stumbled, growled, and leaped again. Before Jack knew what was happening, the air was knocked out his lungs as he found himself pinned between snarling fur and grass-prickly ground.

L* L * L * L

"I can't move," Murphy whispered.

McGarrah bit his lip. Cloy didn't protest as McGarrah helped Douglas to his knees and a little closer to their newest teammate.

"I don't have long," Murphy wheezed, his eyes focused on the cats outside.

"Don't say that!" Douglas demanded, leaning unsteadily against McGarrah.

If Murphy heard, he gave no indication of it. His attention was outside with their captors. "I just wanted to let them know," he muttered. "It's not a disease."

"Huh?" McGarrah eloquently voiced their confusion.

"They're not dying." Whether Murphy was responding to McGarrah's question or continuing his delirium, Cloy couldn't tell. "The 'disease' is just a change, that's all. They're not dying."

"Neither are you," Douglas insisted.

Hazel eyes rolled to meet Douglas's brown. They rested there a moment before moving to regard McGarrah and Cloy. Cloy wondered what Murphy saw before he closed his eyes on them.

"It's happening again," Murphy said, as if in explanation. There was no fear in his voice, only tiredness. "The paralysis, the difficulty breathing. If I stay…"

McGarrah sagged back, sorry resignation in his eyes. With the cat-things guarding them like they were, SG 7 wasn't going anywhere. And Douglas's grunt, Cloy was sure, was due more to that shared realization than the pain caused by McGarrah's movement.

They were going to loose another one. First Colonel James and Shorty. And now Murphy. And they just got him.

Cloy shook his head. "No." No more.

"Sir?" McGarrah replied just as quietly.

Cloy shifted his grip from Murphy's shoulder to his hand and gave it a none too gentle squeeze. He was going to get Murphy's attention any way he could.

"Murphy! John, listen to me. You're not going to die." Not on my shift, you won't. "Not here. Got that, sergeant? That's an order," he added in a sterner voice.

His best commanding voice elicited a soft snort from McGarrah and silence from it's intended victim.

Cloy tried not to be angry with this man he barely knew.

"My.. mate… tried that tactic on me the last time."

Cloy jumped at the weakened voice. He looked up to find Murphy's hazel eyes fixed on him. He squeezed Murphy's limp hand, feeling some relief. He was still conscious, still with them. Also still delusional.

Murphy tried to smile. "He never knew that it worked. I must leave soon."

"Don't…"

"Just promise me something," Murphy cut in. His eyes trapped Cloy's. "He wouldn't let the children see me. Now it's happening to my youngest, and they won't let me see him. Just tell him not to be afraid. Tell him it's ok. I'll be waiting for him."

"Murphy, don't.." But the focus was already fading from his eyes.

"It's okay," he repeated.

Murphy took a weak, shuddery breath, blinked, then frowned. "Captain?"

That one word carried all the confusion and fear that had been conspicuously absent. Before he could wonder at the meaning, Murphy stopped breathing. His eyes rolled back and his body shuddered.

"Shit!" Cloy growled out, suddenly finding his hand in a vice-like grip.

"Captain!" McGarrah eased away from Douglas to help.

By the time McGarrah reached them, Murphy had gone still, his grip slack. Cloy sighed when he found the pulse.

McGarrah uttered a string of expletives. Cloy looked at him, shocked. He had never heard McGarrah swear before. McGarrah backed away from them, his eyes fastened on Murphy's chest. With a sinking feeling, Cloy followed his gaze down.

A glow emanated from Murphy's injured body. A faintly blue light, almost drowned by the brightness of the artificial light, lifted itself from Murphy's body. Hovering scant inches from him, it coalesced, forming a ball of transparent electric blue. It wobbled, as if shivering, and brightened for half a second. With the dimming it lost it's color, becoming a translucent ball that was hard on the eyes and which almost convinced the mind it wasn't really there.

Cloy gaped at the shimmering spectre. He'd seen something like it before. He had thought it to be some strange reflection of the fire light which disappeared when touched.

"Dr. Jackson," he breathed.

"What?"

"One of these…"

Cloy met Douglas's questioning gaze. He could see the connections being made written on his face.

McGarrah, ever clueless, asking "What the hell is going on here?"

L* L * L * L

Makepeace did not like what he saw.

The camp SG 7 had made was easy enough to find. Makepeace approved of it's location. Sheltered on one side by a curving rock formation, and on the other by a swift moving river, it only left two sides that needed potential defense - from the tress and the sky. And from the sky they had some protection, as meager as it was, from overhanging rock, or even hiding under the trees.

He didn't like the state they had found the campsite in. It had been neatly packed, the fire covered reasonably well considering the rather hard packed ground. There was no sign that SG 7 intended to stay here the allotted two days they had left. One of his people returned from scouting the woods with a bundle that didn't belong there. SG 7 had stashed their gear there - tents, utensils, the bulky backpacks. Makepeace scowled when he heard the report.

The team, plus Dr. Jackson, where ever they were, were traveling light. Maybe they had the intention of coming back for the hidden supplies, maybe not. But they did not mean to be slowed down. They took all their ammo and weapons; they were prepared for a fire fight. But with whom? If there was a danger on this planet, why didn't they report it back to the SGC? Unless they weren't sure of the danger. Or they were on their way back to the Stargate when whatever happened had happened. Did somebody come through the 'gate?

Makepeace looked at the scant evidence and made assumptions. If he were Captain Cloy and he knew someone had used the Stargate, he would not return by the same route he had taken to get to the camp site. He might scout to see what they were up to then report back. Since the river was not a viable route, he would stick close to the rock outcrop. No sense in getting yourself lost in the woods. And what amounted to a mini-mountain was an easy landmark to keep track of.

At least one of the missing party had made it back to the Stargate. As Makepeace led his men along the base of the outcrop, he tried not to wonder what had happened to him.

L* L * L * L

"Stop!"

Daniel could hardly believe he yelled that at them, as if this were some mere quarrel and both parties would understand him. He was utterly confused. Part of him knew the creature attacking Jack. A different part knew the creature that was fending off his love. The conflicting feels had one thing in common, to stop the fight before someone got hurt.

Daniel stood on his knees, his lower leg no longer holding his weight. He dragged the offending appendage as he moved to put himself physically between friend and mate. A stupid move, he knew, but the only one he could think of.

"Jack, Becky, stop it!"

Neither listened.

His ears rang with his screams, her growls, and Jack's silence. Daniel was acutely aware of the cloying smell of blood. Jack's curse stood out unnaturally loud as Daniel entered the fray. Suddenly he was knocked over. He felt a scrape of nails across his leg, then the pressure of two bodies making it difficult to breath. One body, Daniel couldn't tell who it belonged to, squirmed and jabbed him in the stomach. There was a snarl too close to his ears for comfort, then a deafening blast.

And then? It was over. As fast as the lightning-like attack appeared, the creature was dead - warm, limp and bleeding out it's liquid life no more than a foot in front of them. The crimson flow soaked into their pants and stained the dry savanna grass around their huddled bodies.

Nothing moved on that whole plain. Not insect. Not bird. And not man.

Daniel was aware of nothing save the wetness soaking into his clothing; the tightness of his held breath. There were no sounds around him and no sense of life.

Oh God... he couldn't hear Jack: his movement, his breathing, anything that spoke to him that his friend or love was still alive. All he knew was the weight of his friend's body over his, holding him down as Jack had tried to provide a wall of safety between Daniel and the beast.

"...haaaahhhhhhh.."

The gasp was soft and close... so close. Whatever chains that had bound Daniel broke free; his only thought to help Jack: save Jack, at whatever cost - be it his own life. He refused to accept the concept that the breathy rasp he heard so close to his ear might have been his friend's last breath.

It was hard to move out from under the body above him - he forced himself to stay away from the thought 'dead weight' - but it was the work of a few moments until he had Jack laid out on the grass, frantically searching the angle of his jaw for a pulse. His fear was so great it was hard for him to locate the notch between the two bundles of muscles.

Wait! He double checked. God, Yes. YES!! A pulse. Weak and somewhat erratic, but a pulse none the less. A quick pat-down proved that most of the bloody wetness of Jack's BDU's belonged to the cat-like creature, not Jack.

He was alive and Daniel now had another reason to keep on living.

" ... Oh, God ..... Jack....." The young man scooped Jack roughly into his working arm, laying the battered, bloody head against his chest and enclosing Jack's upper body in his arms. They sat together like this for many moments. The only sounds were the wind drifting through the dry grasses and the soft sobbing of tears falling on a silent, upturned face.

There were long moments of not thinking, just feeling a sensation of great loss. Finally, the incongruity of the emotion sank in. He had no reason to feel so sad, as if he had just lost a great hope. Regret, or remorse, those he should be feeling. He was, after all the one who put his best friend and lover into jeopardy.

Daniel blinked hard. His lover?

A noise brought him back to his surroundings. He looked up to find Jack limping slowly toward him, a hole in his chest matting his tawny fur. Daniel blinked, looked down incredulously. No! Jack was injured, unconscious in his arms. That creature was approaching him. Him and Jack and Becky.

"Becky," he whispered.

She lay there, so still.

Down at Jack, so pale, blood leaking from various wounds. Daniel touched his throat, and lay a hand on Jack's chest. The beat was steadier now, and chest rose with more strength. Daniel closed his eyes in silent relief. Jack would live. But Becky…

Daniel gingerly lay Jack down, taking care not to jar the worst of his injuries. He half crawled, half dragged himself to Becky. Even though she wasn't far and he didn't have to worry about pushing grass out of the way - the tumbling fight had flattened a small area around them - Daniel was nonetheless winded by the time he sat. The disease was taking it's toll on his body.

A trembling hand, slick with blood, gently touched her head. He ran his hand between her ears. Her fur used to be softer and shinier. His jaws clenched. It hurt so much to see her like this.

He glanced up and shot Jack a murderous look. Jack - the Jack on four legs, the one who was supposed to stand witness to their Joining, the one who pulled Becky away from him when he most needed someone near - glared back.

"You were supposed to take care of her!" He gasped after the shout. His chest refused to move in time with his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to control the spasms. It was happening again. Becky leaving him to die alone. A tear dripped from his chin.

He reached to rub the tiny bald spot on her neck. She had lost a nail's width of hair there as a cub. For some odd reason it never grew back. Her neck was always cold around that patch. It was his favorite place to tickle her.

He touched the bald spot and felt her skin twitch. Daniel jerked his hand back with a sharp inhale that caused a fit of coughing. Once he got his breathing under some measure of control, he found himself being watched by one gold eye. It blinked.

"Becky," Daniel breathed in wonder. She was alive. Barely.

The eyes blinked again. One ear abruptly fell forward.

"No," he whispered to her, rubbing the base of the ear. "Don't be afraid. It's me." He felt the hair try to quiver under his hand. Daniel's heart fell. She didn't understand.

"Daniel!"

Daniel's head jerked up. He blinked twice and squinted at the growing crowd. Sam and Teal'c and someone he couldn't readily place - was that one of Makepeace's men? - were approaching warily. Teal'c had his staff weapon pointed at his growling ex-best friend. Daniel frowned uncomprehendingly. What were they doing here?

Sam and the man from SG 3 suddenly raised their weapons at something behind him. He turned awkwardly, breath hissing between his clenched teeth, to find a group of priests with a shroud bier between them.

No! They couldn't have her. Becky wasn't dead yet.

Daniel bared his teeth and growled as loud and menacingly as he could with the little breath he had. The priests, showing signs of confusion, stopped where they were and put the bier down. Everyone else, he noted with relief, kept their distance.

Ignoring the wary concern from the humans, Daniel turned back to Becky. "I'm here," he whispered, unable to draw enough breath to speak any louder.

Using his working hand, he gently lifted her head to his lap.

"Daniel!" Sam shouted in alarm.

He glanced up. Forgetting she didn't know the words of this language, he growled at her. She started, took a step back and frowned at him.

Daniel panted and stroked Becky's head between her ears. "I'm here, Becky," he repeated, willing her to understand his words. "I'm here." The fear persisted in her golden eyes.

He looked beseechingly at everyone in the crowd. They couldn't help, they didn't even understand what was happening. Neither did he. All he knew was that he needed to get through to her before… Before she moved on. Or he moved on without her.

He looked blankly at the dusty ground. He desperately wished he could speak her language, to tell her everything he wanted to say. If only there was some way he could communicate with… Write! He still knew how to make the letters of their language. He could write to Becky. He chuckled despite himself. One last love note.

Daniel carefully reached over her head and scratched his message in the dirt. It was hard; his thumb didn't want to work and it took him a precious moment to figure out how to keep the index finger from joining in the rebellion. Done, he lifted her unresisting head and gently tilted it so she could read the words.

Her eyes were unfocussed and for one terrible moment Daniel thought she had died without him. Then those beautiful gold eyes blinked and stared. The fallen ear struggled to right itself and failed. Her eyes rolled up to meet his.

"Yes," he breathed, answering the question in her eyes. "It's really me." He scratched as much in the dry soil.

She leaned her head back into his lap. He watched the questions form in her eyes, the confusion that finally cleared with belief.

"It's okay." He hoped she could read his eyes as well. He smiled at the lovely glow in hers. "I'll be here."

The light slowly faded from her eyes. He knew it would happen, still it hurt something fierce to see the dullness.

Daniel heard the gasps from the audience of both species. A nervous growl sounded from behind him, echoed by a confused mumble from before him. His hand stilled on Becky's head.

A faint blue glow cast silvered shadows on her fur. The amorphous light pulled up slowly, sparkling where it touched the hair. When it cleared her body, it pulled itself into a shimmering sphere, and brightened a moment.

Becky was free.

Daniel prepared to join her.

L* L * L * L

Sam couldn't believe her eyes.

The Colonel lay in a small clearing of crushed grass, his clothes torn and bloodied. Daniel sat near him, a hand on the head of a large cat-like creature. Another of the cat animals stood glaring at them. Sam half expected it to attack. But it took one look at the staff weapon Teal'c had leveled on it and froze. Sam felt a shiver run down her back. It knew what a weapon was.

"Daniel."

Daniel's head snapped up at the sound of his name. There was pain in his eyes, a look of utter loss. He looked uncomprehendingly at each of them.

Four more of the large cats approached from behind Daniel, carrying something between them. She and Johnson pulled their weapons up automatically. The cats stopped abruptly. Cats and humans stared at each other for a long moment.

Daniel turned stiffly and craned his neck to see what had their attention. Incredibly, he growled at them! The cats seem to take this as their cue to set down the cylindrical object they had been carrying.

They were at a standoff. The humans and Teal'c on one side, weapons up, not daring to move for fear of provoking another attack. Five large cats, one of them injured, watching the humans with narrowed golden eyes. And Daniel, the Colonel, and one apparently dead cat in the middle.

Daniel turned back toward the creature he sat next to. With his left arm hanging limply at his side, he cradled and lifted it's head with astounding gentleness.

The injured cat's hair stood up and it crouched slightly. Sam read this as ready to spring. Teal'c must have as well; the staff weapon powered up.

"Daniel!" Sam called warningly.

Daniel gazed up with a hurt animal look and growled at her. Sam frowned at the unexpected reaction, and took a step back. The hair on the injured cat flattened, as did it's ears. It abruptly sat and whined.

Now Daniel's attention was completely lost on the cat he awkwardly cradled. There was quiet as everyone, cat and human both, watched. Daniel spoke to the animal in a soft tone. A quick glance at the deepening frown on Teal'c's face showed that he could hear what Daniel whispered, and he didn't like it.

Daniel reached over the creature's head, grimacing as if the movement brought him pain. His fingers raked the ground, then he turn it's head to look at it. Was he trying to talk to the thing?

Seconds that seemed like an eternity passed by as Daniel gazed at down at the creature's face. Then he closed his eyes. If the glimpse of pain was any indication, the animal had just died.

In death, it started to glow.

Johnson gasped. There was low level growls from the standing cats. The ears on the injured one lifted abruptly and twitched spasmodically.

The glow separated itself from the cat's body, brightened, and lost it's color. Sam nearly lost sight of it as it rose a few feet into the air.

Daniel gasped once, his eyes rolled up, and he gave a great shudder. He fell over, the head of the cat falling from his lap. Being the closest to him, Sam rushed to his side, heedless of the irritated noise from the foursome watching them.

A glow such as that which had come from the cat emerged from Daniel's chest. She paused in touching him, not sure how the shimmering thing would react to her. It left Daniel's body to join the other.

The balls twisted and turned around each other, seeming to dance in mid-air. They touched, flared, and parted. They moved across the field, pausing over the injured cat's head. The hair on the injured cat stood straight up, it's ears twitching wildly as it looked around itself for the source of it's unease. It occurred to Sam that the animal couldn't see the shimmering things. It almost hurt to focus on them in the sunlight, but the cat's eyes never stayed in their direction.

The shimmerings didn't stay to keep it company long. There was an almost joyous note to the sparkles rippling through their bodies as they at last sped off, taking turns chasing each other.

A similar reaction of raised hairs and twitching ears rippled among the foursome as the balls of sparkling light passed over the cats. Then they were gone. Sam couldn't tell whether they had passed out of sight, or were finally drowned out by the sunlight.

Leaving Johnson to keep watch, Teal'c went to check on the Colonel. Sam laid a hand on Daniel's face. His eyes twitched under his lids and his rough breathing started to slowly even out.

"Teal'c?"

"O'Neill will live. He is, however, in need of medical attention."

"Major? Teal'c?" Johnson stammered.

The injured cat crouched low, it's ears half down, more crawling than skulking toward them. It watched the humans closely, pausing when Johnson pointed his rifle at it.

Sam glanced at Teal'c, who nodded slightly.

"Take it easy, Lieutenant. I think it wants to tend to it's own." She caught Johnson's eye to make her point. "Teal'c could use your help with the Colonel."

Johnson lowered his rifle reluctantly and slowly approached Teal'c and the Colonel.

Despite her earlier words, Sam kept her weapon on hand, just in case. Keeping an eye on the injured cat, she pulled Daniel away from the dead one.

The injured one pause as she did so. Still crouching, it covered the rest of the ground toward them. It nuzzled the dead one's neck. When it received no response, it ran a paw over the body and keened. Sam noted the tenderness of the gesture and wondered if they had been mates.

The injured cat looked at Daniel, back at the lifeless body it still touched. Sam's grip tightened on her weapon, but it made no move toward them. If anything, it seemed even further saddened.

Then it noticed the markings Daniel had scratched into the dry earth which Sam had half obscured when she moved Daniel. It studied them intently. It reached out to trace the gouges, and Sam could see that it had fingers. It started up the heart wrenching keening again as it looked at the dead one, at Daniel and back again.

Sam thought she read confusion in it's eyes as it took in the humans and the four cats waiting on the sidelines. There was definitely intelligence in those big sun colored eyes as they rested on each of the injured and the one dead. Sam could see it trying to put pieces together, making a decision of some type. It sat abruptly and yowled in what Sam had no doubt was denial.

The four standing in the grass turned in unison to face the injured one. The injured one let out a series of growls. One of the four returned the volley.

Both Sam and Johnson brought their weapons up at the noise. The injured one ignored them and continued to growl. Finally, it dawned on Sam what was happening.

"They're talking," she said, relaxing marginally.

"You're kidding." Johnson looked nervously at the foursome and the injured one.

"No." Sam looked at everyone in the same manner the injured cat had just done. "I think we came in on the middle of a big mistake. And we're both just now realizing it."

Teal'c glanced at her with a raised eyebrow.

The ears on the one who had been answering the injured one fell forward. It turned and sped away, quickly disappearing from sight. Cheetah's had nothing on these cats.

The injured one fired off more growls at the remaining three. Silently, and Sam thought, reluctantly, they picked up the object they had been carrying with a front… hand each, and started an awkward looking three legged walk.

"Johnson," Sam said warningly as the trio came beside the Colonel and Teal'c. Johnson's knuckles were white from gripping the rifle too tightly, but he did not move.

The three cats set their burden down. One moved out of the way as the other two unrolled a piece of cloth the same color as their eyes. Sam watched, stunned, as four fingered pa… hands - they had to be hands, right? - expertly spread the material out. It turned out to be square, each side longer than the average cat body. Almost long enough for the tall Colonel.

Finished, the two moved to join their companion and watch.

For a long moment, no one moved. The injured cat growled something softly at them. The ears on one of the trio folded forward half way. When it became apparent the trio weren't going to do anything, the injured one hissed at them. The ears of all three flattened, the tip of the middle one covering it's right eye. With great reluctance, all three laid down.

Sam almost laughed at the absurdity of it. The injured one had just told them to be as unthreatening as possible. It followed it's own orders and lay silently next to it's lifeless friend.

Teal'c and Sam exchanged looks. From the height of his brows, Teal'c was having a hard time believing it all as well. She wondered if they understood the nod Teal'c gave the injured one before making use of the peace offering. He lifted the Colonel onto the cloth. It clashed miserably with red soaking the Colonel's BDU's.

Careful not to make any sudden movements, Teal'c stood, moved to Sam's side, and lifted the unconscious Daniel. Sam and Johnson, following his lead with the slow deliberate movements, each took an end of the cloth and lifted the Colonel. Sam looked back once as they headed for the Stargate and home. The injured one still lay where it was, one hand resting possessively on it's fallen comrade, as it watched them leave.

L* L * L * L

Makepeace resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck. They were being watched. He could feel it. From the nervous lookings around of his people, they could feel it too. The noise of one of them bringing his weapon to bear caught Makepeace's attention. He saw what caught the young marine's attention, a large cat standing behind them. It did not appear to be ready to spring, indeed, it just stood and stared.

A rustle from the trees, and another weapon was aimed and ready. The cat that watched them from above was slightly smaller with dark patches of fur. Then another appeared, and another. Soon they were surrounded by the large creatures on all sides except the rock.

"Shit!" Someone muttered behind him.

That pretty much sums it up. Makepeace slowly scanned the area. His team was outnumbered. Why aren't they attacking? Not that he was complaining, he didn't think their ammunition would do them any good if there was a coordinated attack.

The crackling of his radio coming to life caused everyone to jump. Two of the animals growled and tensed, but did not move.

It was Major Carter. "We've found Daniel."

Lovely timing.

Makepeace slowly reached for the radio. A dozen pairs of gold and bronze eyes narrowed.

"Is SG 7 with him?" he asked softly, already knowing the answer. If they had all been together, she would have said so initially.

"No." Frustration echoed through the speaker. "He was alone. He's unconscious and the Colonel is injured. We're taking them back to the Stargate now."

The cats stayed where they were, watching intently.

"What happened?"

"There was a… misunderstanding with the natives."

Makepeace narrowed his eyes at the radio, momentarily forgetting Carter couldn't see his expression through the airwaves. She conspicuously did not say Goa'uld. "I understood there were no humans on this planet."

"No, sir. Not humans. These… people are…" There was some mumbling or something that he did not catch.

"Repeat, Carter. I didn't read that last bit."

A sigh and a tone of reluctance. "I said they appear to be feline."

"Feline?" He mumbled, staring blankly at the surrounding cats.

"Yes sir."

Someone made a noise indicating exactly what he thought of that notion. Makepeace glared at him. Why the hell not, he thought even as his mind tried to balk at the idea. Aliens only looked human on Star Trek. They've already met one that looked like a snake and one that looked vaguely like a giant spider, when you could see it at all.

He asked for an ETA to the Stargate, and requested that she send back a diplomatic team.

"Sir?"

"We're making contact." Staring at the cats, he muttered, "Again."

Carter paused. "Understood." She added a "Be careful," before signing off.

A cat who shuffled it's feet came a little closer.

Another with a bandage on it's tail - was that really a splint? - growled and coiled to spring. The one who didn't pick up it's feet growled back, and the injured tail relaxed. Minimally.

"Hold your fire," Makepeace warned lowly, hoping to preempt any itchy trigger fingers.

The cat rubbed it's paw over the ground, pulled it away without quite leaving the soil. Makepeace had the impression it was old.

Keeping his gun ready, Makepeace slowly hunkered down. The scratchings made no sense to him. But they seemed too complex to be mere 'scratchings'. Either that or it's claws were the oddest shape he could image them being.

Makepeace glanced back as his people. No one offered any suggestions. Then back at the aged cat who seemed to be waiting for a response. What the heck was he supposed to say?

Makepeace grumbled to himself. He wasn't cut out for first contact situations. Or third or fourth, for that matter.

Well, he definitely didn't understand their language, if that's what it was. And he doubted they'd understand English. So maybe something simpler, like pictures? He smoothed the dirt out, drew a circle and hopped his fingers from it.

The cat's ears fell half way forward. It looked at him out of each eye in a move more characteristic of a bird than any cat he had ever seen. It slowly scratched four lines into the dirt.

Makepeace furrowed his brow. Four? That could be a threat. It could be the number of claws it had on a paw, for all he knew. It might have just been stretching, except for the manner in which it waited, expectantly. So what did the four lines mean, he wondered. A number, maybe? Perhaps the missing people. Only there were five, SG 7 and Jackson. No, that wasn't quite right. Carter had found Jackson. Maybe…

Not quite believing he was seriously considering this, Makepeace made a circle around the four lines, and walked his fingers back to the original circle.

The old cat's ears folded completely forward, the tips nearly touching it's eyes. One of the nearer cats mumbled, the old one growled back at it. Suddenly the humans were surrounded by a gut tingling rumble as the cats growled and hissed and generally made noise to each other.

Makepeace cautiously stood, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up again.

The old one's hair stood on end as it gave the loudest hiss Makepeace had ever heard. The cacophony died as suddenly as it began. It grumbled something long and complicated to the others, looking at each of them in turn. When it had finished talking, the other cats, some with their hair on end, some with their ears flattened, all silent, disappeared into the wood work from whence they came. SG 3 was left with only the old cat for company.

It said something at them that sounded almost like a deep purr. It turned it's back on them, leaving a trail where it did not quite pick up three feet. It pause to look over it's shoulder and repeat the purr-like sound.

Makepeace shrugged and followed. He wasn't sure what he and cat had just said to each other, but apparently they were going to get the grand tour. Thankfully with only one cat.

L* L * L * L

All eyes were on the shimmering glow hovering near the ceiling.

"What's it staying there for?" McGarrah asked with a nervous hitch to his voice.

Cloy's eyes narrowed. He thought he knew exactly what it wanted.

"It's waiting for us to get out of here," Douglas answered softly.

McGarrah gave a scared, derisive snort. He didn't believe they would get out of this little cell or away from the cat creatures.

Cloy heard noise muffled by walls and distance. Was that gun fire? McGarrah scrambled to his feet, color seeping into his face for the first time since they met the cats. He helped Douglas up, supporting the injured man.

Looker skidded to a halt outside their door. It was followed closely by a cat Cloy thought looked like Puff-fur, only without the puff. It's ears were flattened, and it's large eyes narrowed. Whatever was going on, Puff-fur didn't like it. Then Boss came into slow view, followed by the prettiest ugly sight he had ever seen.

"Colonel Makepeace!"

"Captain." A smile flitted on Makepeace's face, too quickly replaced by the business at hand. "Is everyone here?"

Cloy did a quick glance around, as if to verify for himself what he already knew to be true. Douglas, McGarrah, an unconscious Murphy, and the shimmering thing…

"Everyone except Jackson."

"He's been found."

Relief flooded through Cloy.

"I've got injured in here."

Makepeace frowned and gave a small nod of understanding.

"Better move away from the door. If I can't get them to open it, we might have to shoot it in."

Cloy backed out of the line of fire without a word. He stared at the group of cats on one side of the door, and the humans on the other. How did Makepeace manage to get in here without getting attacked like they were?

Makepeace pointed at SG 7, then at himself.

Boss sat heavily. It drew a circle on the soil. Cloy was gratified to see he wasn't the only one who couldn't draw.

Makepeace smothered a sigh. Welcome to the club, Cloy thought, knowing how silly it felt drawing pictures to the cats. Makepeace knelt, indicated SG's 3 and 7, and walked his fingers into the rough circle.

Puff-fur's fur went rigid. Impossibly, it's ears flattened even further. It uttered a deep, menacing growl. Cloy had no doubt that it was actually a growl this time, and not some form of speech.

Boss hissed, and Looker moved away from the two. Puff-fur continued it's growling, never even looking at Boss. Boss uttered something at the top of it's lungs.

Makepeace, and his men who had not already done so, brought their weapons to bear. Boss ignored them.

Murphy muttered something about trying to sleep. Wonderful time to wake up, Cloy thought toward the ceiling.

A group of cats weaved their way around the feet of SG 3, in a hurry but still careful not to touch the humans. Cloy recognized some of the guard cats from earlier. Boss had called in reinforcements.

More than one nervous man pointed their weapons down.

"Hold your fire," Cloy warned, momentarily forgetting who had rank here. Makepeace shot him a look, but did not belay his order.

Boss shot off some quick orders and the guard cats surrounded the still growling Puff-fur. It's eyes never left SG 3 as they hustled it away.

Boss talked to Looker. Looker manipulated the outside paneling. The door silently slid up. It watched both groups without blinking.

After a moment of silence, Boss tapped the circle it had drawn, as if to remind Makepeace of what he was supposed to do. Cloy looked from one to the other, and suddenly understood that Boss didn't want the humans here any more than the humans wanted to be here.

Makepeace nodded once to Boss. He motioned his men in to help with Douglas and Murphy. One of them sneezed as he passed through the mist.

McGarrah and Douglas passed him, McGarrah with a look of utter relief on his face. Two of Makepeace's men awkwardly carried Murphy out using the same cloth the cats had brought him in on. Murphy, not completely with them yet, was muttering about the waterbed swaying too much.

"Time to go, Captain."

"Not yet, sir."

"What?"

"I've got a promise to keep."

"To who?" Makepeace shook his head in a never mind fashion. "Doesn't matter. It can wait till we get home."

"No, sir, it won't wait that long." Cloy's gaze was fastened on the shimmering, floating toward them at eye level.

Makepeace followed his gaze and gaped. "What the hell is that?"

"Long story. But it asked me to relay a message to one of it's children." Cloy winced at how crazy it sounded, even to his ears.

The shimmering floated out the door, hovered over Looker's head. Looker's ears fell, it's eyes darted here and there as it made a low noise. Boss stood, ears and fur twitching. Though both felt it's presence, neither actually looked at the shimmering.

Makepeace and Cloy exchanged looks.

"They don't see it." Makepeace stated the obvious.

The shimmering bobbed once, then turned down the corner. Cloy followed, careful not to step on any of the twitching tails. Makepeace muttered under his breath, notified his people of the delay, then trailed along.

Both Looker and Boss stayed near, despite their unease, but did not hamper the human's progress.

They followed the shimmering through several halls and finally through a doorless doorway. Cloy ducked his head to pass through the mist, ignoring Makepeace's mutter of disgust. He stopped short a few feet into the room.

For a moment he thought it was Little One laying on the pad, eyes closed and looking terribly limp. The shimmering hovered above the motionless form. As Cloy approached, he realized it was larger than Little One, barely a cub anymore. A prone as it was, it only seemed to be small.

It's eye's were closed, and a tube ran from it's mouth to a machine quietly beeping by it's head. The half erect ear didn't even twitch at the shimmering's presence by it's head.

Makepeace stood a respectful distance away, Looker and Boss standing warily by. Cloy glanced at them, at the shimmering, and sighed. He knelt next to the cub, hesitated, then reached out to touch it. It's fur was not as soft as he had thought it would be.

One of the cats behind spoke, it sounded like a warning. Cloy slowly pulled his hand away without looking back.

"I know you can't understand me," he said, his voice low. He felt self consciously ridiculous. "But your… I guess she was your mother? She wants you to know she is here. Right above you, in fact. She says not to be afraid. You're not really dying. Just… changing, somehow. She says everything will be alright."

There. It was done. He looked at the shimmering thing. It hovered a moment, shivered, dipped closer to the cub, then zipped out of the room.

Cloy stood and moved to the door. He paused before passing through the misting to glance back at the dying cub. Looker was checking it over, pointedly not looking at the humans. Makepeace, brows creased in unvoiced confusion, slapped his back.

"Let's go home, Captain."

L* L * L * L

Continued on the next part...

© 2000 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa’uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

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