Unnatural

Author: Badgergater

Season: Future, approx. 5 years after S6

Episode: None

Spoilers: Unnatural Selection, Small Victories

Category: Drama

Summary: O’Neill is called out of retirement to help an old friend deal with a threat that brings in to play Jack’s own internal demons

Warnings: There are some distressing visual images, but it all depends on how vivid your imagination is.

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don’t own SG-1 and I recognize the power of those who do. I’m just a simple little fanfic writer who hasn’t made a plug nickel on any fic.

Author’s note: The idea for this fic has been rattling around inside my brain since I saw the episode (I actually wrote the intro over a year ago), waiting for the idea to gel into a story, and finally it has, thanks to Jude and Charli.

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In all the years he’d known the little gray aliens, he’d never yet had a satisfying conversation with one of them. Not once.

Not ever.

And Thor had never bothered to ask his permission before either dropping in, or just plain beaming him out of whatever he was doing and onto his ship, either.

And this meeting sure wasn’t going to break either perfect record.

Jack O’Neill, now almost 60 but still lithe and athletic, if a little arthritic here and there, had changed little over the years. The shoulders were still square, the hair still standing up in tufts of gray, the face thin and lined, the dark eyes as intense as ever, and the tall, lean form never still.

"O’Neill, I have come to request your assistance," the Asgaard’s Supreme Commander announced without preamble.

Recovered from the surprise of finding the little gray alien standing in the middle of his living room, Jack O’Neill gave an emphatic negative shake of his gray-haired head in response to Thor’s request. "Look, Thor old buddy, I’d love to save the universe with you one more time for old time’s sake, but I’m retired now, ya know? Remember, the back, the knees, the ‘I thoroughly pissed off the big and important people?’ So I’m retired. Golf, fishing, cable TV, kickin’ back with a beer, watching the grass grow."

"You would never be content watching the grass grow," the Supreme Commander of the Asgaard answered seriously. "You are O’Neill, and your exploits are legendary."

Sheesh, the Asgaard just didn’t get it. "Thor, it’s over. I’m no longer legendary," the human emphasized his words with emphatic hand gestures. I’m no longer a warrior. I’m no longer in charge of the SGC. These days, I’m just a retiree with too much time on my hands. Just an ordinary Joe."

"You have never been ordinary, O’Neill. The Asgaard do not name ships after ordinary Joes."

"Okay, so maybe ordinary wasn’t the right word."

"Indeed, I do not believe your people promote ordinary Joes to General."

"They promoted me to General because they knew I was going to retire…"

Thor looked quizzically at the human. "That does not seem logical."

O’Neill spread his hands in a familiar ‘see, what did I tell you’ gesture. "That’s the U.S. military for you."

Thor still looked puzzled.

"It was a reward, you know, save the planet, we give you a nice title. Boosts the retirement checks. Looks good on a resume’. Makes for great public relations."

"You deserved it."

"Not everyone thought so." O’Neill shrugged. "Whatever, that’s water under the bridge *and* over the dam. The fact is, I’m retired. Done. On permanent leave. Gone fishing. Taken up the leisurely life. So unless you’ve come to take me up on that offer to throw a line in the water…" the silver haired human looked intently at his alien visitor.

"I am not here to fish. I am here on an important mission."

"Aren’t they all?" Okay, so he may have been retired, but the sarcasm was still working at one hundred percent peak efficiency.

"Your assistance is required."

The man was getting irritated now. "Look, Thor, I explained. You folks are nice and all, but I’m retired. Really. Find someone else to help. There are lots of gung-ho young guys out there just itchin’ for an opportunity to save the universe. Give them their chance."

"It is your presence we need, O’Neill."

"Now, that’s nice of you to say. Warms my heart. Makes me feel appreciated. Thanks very much, but no thanks."

"I understand your situation, O’Neill. I would not have come to you if another were suitable." Thor slowly blinked his great oval eyes. "You will understand."

"No, I won’t." Jack insisted, standing with arms folded across his chest. "I’m retired. I’m *not* gonna do this."

"O’Neill, you must."

"No."

Thor made no move, just stared at the tall human who stood before him, totally undaunted by the glare being thrown his way.

"Look, Thor, there’s obviously a communication problem here. What part of no don’t you understand?"

"O’Neill, you must come. After you have seen, if you are determined to remain uninvolved, I will return you without further obligation. I ask only that you allow me the opportunity to show you the situation."

Jack looked at the alien, contemplating. Thor was mighty certain that whatever he was about to reveal would convince the human to get involved, and that worried him. Worried him a lot, because over the years, Thor’s simple little adventures had all too rarely turned out to be either simple or easy or good for humans in general and this one specific human in particular. "I’m not liking this," he warned.

"You will not," the Asgaard agreed.

"You know I hate surprises. So why not just tell me and get it over with. Save us both a lot of wasted time."

"Your time will not be wasted."

The alien’s confidence shook Jack even further. "I don’t…"

"I think it is best that you see for yourself, then you may decide."

There was a familiar flash of light and a split second of disorientation and Jack suddenly found himself standing on Thor’s ship. "Ah, sticking with the traditional gray on gray décor I see."

The Asgaard nodded, and O’Neill suspected he’d just seen a shadow of a smile cross the alien’s face.

-----------------

It was only a short trip across the galaxy. O’Neill stood at the viewscreen, mesmerized as always by the beauty of his planet, remembering that first time he’d seen it from space. It had been an incredible, humbling sight, looking up at the bright blue and white of Earth as he’d sat in that glider and waited for death to claim him.

He could see Thor over at the controls, sliding the faintly pink stones around the panel, and then without warning the Earth was shrinking with amazing suddenness as the Asgaard ship accelerated away from the planet.

He never got tired of the wonder of spaceflight. Okay, sure, sometimes things got boring when you spent days traveling in a tel’tac, but riding in an Asgaard ship was entirely different. Like driving a Porsche versus toddling along in a Model T.

After ten minutes of watching stars float amid the black sea of space, Jack decided he’d seen enough, and wandered around the ship until he found a room to call his own, and finished the nap that Thor had so rudely interrupted.

**********

He woke when he felt the almost imperceptible shift of momentum that meant the ship had slowed and stopped. Hurrying to the control room, he found that the viewscreen was once again filled with the image of a planet. This one was unfamiliar to him. Like so many he’d visited over the years, it was very Earthlike, though the proportion of blue water to brown and green land was skewed heavily in favor of the oceans. "Looks like a great place for fishing."

"I do not think you will find time to fish, O’Neill," said Thor, and handed the human one of the small communication stones. "Use this when you wish to return. If I do not hear from you within one hour, I will return you to the ship at that time." The Asgaard placed a three-fingered hand on top of one of the stones on the panel in front of him, looking at the human expectantly. "When you are ready, O’Neill."

Jack slipped the stone into the pocket of his blue jeans, looked over at the alien, and taking a deep breath, nodded.

Bright light enveloped him, and he was no longer on the ship, but standing out in an open meadow…

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sound and bright light of the transport device surprised the Asgaard. He had not expected O'Neill to return so soon. It had been only a few minutes since he had departed.

Thor left the control room and walked down the corridor to the transport area. The light faded as the spindly-bodied gray alien walked into the room, and stopped in surprise.

O'Neill was on the floor, curled into a fetal position, his arms concealing his face.

"O'Neill?" There was no answer, no response of any kind. Was the human injured? Dead? No, Thor could see the rapid rise and fall of the man's chest, too rapid it seemed. "O'Neill, are you injured?"

The man did not reply, though he made a sound that Thor interpreted as distressed, a whimper.

It was the kind of thing he would never have expected from the legendary warrior before him.

Stepping closer, Thor bent down and gently touched the man's shoulder.

O'Neill jerked away, cringing, wrapping his arms even more tightly around his head.

"What is wrong? O'Neill?" he asked softly.

The human muttered something, but Thor could not make out the word. Leaning close, he heard the word softly and clearly this time.

"Bastard."

"I do not understand, O’Neill. Enlighten me."

"Bastard."

"Are you addressing that epithet to me, or describing the being you encountered on the planet?"

"Bastard. You knew!"

"I knew? What is it that you believe I knew?"

"You knew," the man said, his voice shaken and hollow, drawing his legs up even more tightly toward his chest.

"Tell me what is wrong..."

"You knew," the voice had dropped to a despairing whisper. "You knew."

Those were the only words the human uttered, the only words Thor could get in answer to any question he asked. Worried now about O’Neill’s condition, concerned about what he might have encountered on the planet to elicit such a violent response, the Asgaard bent down beside the man once more. "I must go to the control room, O'Neill," he informed the human gently. "I will return as soon as possible, but I must make course corrections. We shall go to a place where we may secure assistance for you, O'Neill."

Receiving no acknowledgement of his words, the gray skinned alien stood then, and walked to the door. Turning back, he saw that the human had not moved, but remained curled up and unresponsive.

Thor hurried to the control room, moving stones around on the panel, and the ship responded, a gentle shiver the only indication of the abrupt change of direction and monumental increase in speed.

Their destination was hours away.

Thor could only hope that the human would not expire before they arrived.

--------------

Huddled on the floor, he couldn’t get the images out of his mind. Horrifying. Paralyzing. Soul shattering. Shaking, his eyes darted back and forth as the scene replayed over and over in his brain, like a video spooling in an endless feedback loop….

Thor had transported him down to the planet. It had seemed like a pleasant enough place, warm without being too hot; green and lush; trees, the universal constant, growing off in the distance. The sky was blue, the sun a bright yellow, the clouds in the sky puffy and white and perfect.

The whole place was picture postcard perfect.

Too perfect.

The wind picked up, playing with the soft tufts of his gray hair, cooling his skin, sliding past his ears, sighing in an almost human voice.

Mesmerizing.

When the sound began, he was unsure of what it was, if anything other than the sighing of the wind.

He strained to hear it, to understand the words which seemed to be just beyond the range of human ears. Tilting his head as if somehow that would help him catch the words that were almost there, Jack sought out the vague sound.

"Daddy," it whispered. "Daaaaaddddy."

Jack felt a shiver roll down his spine.

"Daddy. Daaaaaadddddyyyyyy."

The bright sunny day seemed somehow to have turned chill and dark.

"Daaaaaddddyyyyy."

Something icy, cold, dreadful gripped his heart. He could feel it suddenly pounding in his chest.

He didn’t believe in ghosts. He believed in what you could see and touch and shoot. Something finite. Something solid. Something real.

Not this.

"Daddy? Daddy?"

He spun around as the sound came from behind him now, spun around and saw….

Oh God.

It…

No…

It wasn’t…

No…

Imagination.

Wish.

Hallucination.

Mirage.

Illusion.

Flashback.

Maybe he was finally having that stroke because what he was seeing wasn’t possible.

It.

Was.

Not.

Possible.

"Daddy?" The child was perfect, familiar in every way, the innocent face, the floppy hair, the bright eyes, the excited voice, the ever-present smile, the dimpled chin.

Oh God, it’s… no it’s not.

No, it’s not.

No, it’s not.

No, it’s not.

He bit his lip, hard, so he wouldn’t say the words that were bubbling up out of his throat. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I'm sorry, Charlie, I’m so sorry.

"Daddy?"

He could handle this. He’d been through this before. The Blood of Sokar thing. The blue crystal creatures. This was just another warped alien joke that wasn’t funny in the slightest.

"Daddy?" The small face looked up at him, pleading, full of love and trust.

Damn, he was too old for this. His heart couldn’t take it. There didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the air because his lungs were working but in no way was enough air getting into this lungs.

The horizon was starting to gray out.

Maybe he was having a heart attack.

He wiped a hand across his eyes, but the vision was still there.

"Daddy?" It stepped closer, holding out its hand.

He stepped back.

The child looked hurt.

Jack swallowed and fought down the panic and tried to banish the longing so intense it made his knees buckle alarmingly and his hands shake like leaves in the wind. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, but when he reopened them, the impossible thing was still there.

"Daddy?"

O’Neill waved a hand in the air in a silent plea for it to stop and go away.

Instead, it stepped forward once more, and touched him.

He jerked his hand away like he’d been burned by a ten thousand volt shock. The hand was cold and clammy and not human in the slightest. A piece of his heart broke away, crashing to the floor, shattering like the most fragile glass, cascading into a million tiny fragments, leaving his soul in irreparable pieces.

Closing his eyes, face scrunched up with pain, he backed away.

"Dadddyyy. Don’t leave me. Daddddyyyy. Help me. Daddddyyy. Take me home, Dadddddyyy, take me home."

Jack kept his eyes closed as the sound seemed to grow in volume, echoing strangely, as if it were coming from all around him.

"Daddy, help me."

"Help me."

"Help me."

"Take me home."

"Home."

He didn’t want to, but he opened his eyes and looked into the eyes of the thing standing before him. The eyes latched on to his own, boring into him, dead and cold, glinting only with evil and darkness, sucking him in to their inhuman depths. For a single moment, O’Neill swore his heart had stopped beating, the blood had frozen in his veins, and the neurons in his brain had stalled in their tracks.

It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t be.

It *could *not *be*.

He turned and ran, ran as hard and as fast as his oft-repaired knees allowed. He ran until the sweat poured down his face and trickled down his back and his heart was pounding with the threat of quitting altogether and he just wished it would because that would be easier than this, this, this….

Finally, he could go no further, and was forced to stop. Head down, he put his hands on his knees, drawing great lungfuls of air into his oxygen-starved body.

He didn’t look up, he didn’t want to see, but he knew that they had followed him. He could hear them, the tiny sounds of their feet shuffling in the grass and their clothes rustling.

When at last he looked up, Jack saw that they were arranged around him in a semi-circle, staring coldly. He didn’t know which one of them started the sound, it didn’t matter, but soon they were all once again chanting his name. "Dddaaadddyyyy. Dddaaadddyyy help me. Take me home, Daddddyyy. Take me home."

Backing away with a choking cry, stumbling to his knees, Jack scrambled to get away, but they were surrounding him, their cold hands reaching out to touch him as their voices mocked him.

Cold hands.

Cold, dead hands.

Dead, dead, dead.

Somehow, he managed not to scream as he fumbled in his pocket and found the Asgaard stone and activated it.

Closing his eyes once more, curling up into the fetal position, he tried to blot it all out but was totally unable to erase the image of tens, dozens, hundreds of alien versions of his son pleading for his help.

---------------

The trip had seemed endless. Thor had gone time and time again to O’Neill’s chamber, but the man remained unmoving except for the rapid breathing and the panicked heartbeat that the alien’s sensitive ears could detect. Each time, the Asgaard talked soothingly to O’Neill, but received no response.

At last, the ship arrived at its destination. The Asgaard high commander did not take the time to warn his target of what was to come, he simply found the person he needed, and activated the transport device.

Arriving suddenly aboard Thor’s ship, the large man looked baffled, if such an emotion could be seen upon the stolid ebony face. Still lithe despite his age, the Jaffa spun to face the small gray alien, raising one elegant eyebrow in surprise. "Supreme Commander Thor?"

"I am sorry for the sudden intrusion, Teal’c of Chulak, but the need is urgent."

The man nodded in his stately way. "What matter is of such importance?"

"It is your friend, O’Neill."

Teal’c looked around, his expression brightening. "I do not see him here."

"He is in his chamber, gravely ill I fear. Come, quickly."

Silently, the large human and the tiny alien strode side by side down the corridor. Thor knocked, but as had been the case since his return from the planet, the human did not acknowledge the courtesy.

Alarmed at the sight of his friend lying on the floor, curled into the fetal position, the Chulakian was quickly at the man’s side. Kneeling beside the human, he reached out a hand to touch the shuddering shoulder. "O’Neill?" Getting no answer, Teal’c turned to stare at Thor. "What has happened to him?" he demanded.

"I do not know. He went down to the planet, and returned in this condition."

"What planet?"

"A formerly uninhabited planet, several light years from the Asgaard home world. A strange signal began emanating from the planet a few days ago."

"What signal?"

"A call, in the name of O’Neill of the Tau’ri. We investigated, and found a single human there, a child, who asked for O’Neill." Thor activated a small stone suspended from the chain around his neck. A picture projected into the air between the two men, the image of a small boy shimmered and steadied into sharp focus.

Teal’c gasped.

Thor looked up at the Chulakian. "Do you know who this is?"

"Indeed. I have seen this child’s picture on many occasions. It is O’Neill’s son."

The great doe eyes blinked. "I was not aware O’Neill had children."

"He does not. His son died, at the age of ten years, many years ago."

"Then who is this being on the planet?"

A rasping, rusty sounding answer came from the previously silent man on the floor, the voice raw as if the throat was torn and scarred. "Seventh."

"Seventh?" Thor asked, bewildered.

"First…." O’Neill was still curled on the floor, but his eyes were no longer staring blankly straight ahead, they were fixed on Teal’c’s face, pleading mutely for assistance, and understanding.

The Jaffa remembered, and nodded. "The Replicators, the ones we left trapped on Halla. First was their leader. There were five others."

O’Neill nodded minutely. His voice was a bare whisper as he continued, "First… First used… he took, the images from my brain, for their next…" a hand waved in the air as he searched for the word…"creation."

Thor was confused. "Why would the Replicators create a child? Such a small being would not be as formidable a warrior as a mature human."

Teal’c, however, understood. "Such an image of an innocent child would prey upon the vulnerabilities of humans. Humans are programmed to view children not as threats, but as those whom they must protect. It is instinctual."

"Why O’Neill’s child, if he no longer lives?"

The voice from the floor was filled with despair. "To punish me. For what we did, what I did, to them."

Thor looked down at the floor, then met the haunted eyes of the human before him. "I plead for your forgiveness, O’Neill. I did not know this would be so distressing…"

Jack waved a hand.

"I do not understand however, how this child could be a Replicator. The creatures are confined by the time dilation device…"

"Obviously, not anymore," the human’s voice sounded exhausted and broken. "Not anymore."

Teal’c gestured at the Asgaard, and Thor nodded in answer, understanding the wordless request that the former teammates be left alone.

"I must attend to the ship. Call if you require assistance," the Asgaard explained, and departed quietly.

Still moving easily despite his great age, the former First Prime eased himself down to the floor near the gray haired human, leaning back against the wall. For hours, the Jaffa sat quietly beside the man he had chosen as his brother, saying nothing, simply offering the comfort of his presence, knowing that O'Neill would understand, and respond, when he was ready.

Time passed slowly. Teal'c waited in the patient way he had learned so many years ago, during his earliest training with Bra'tac. Eventually, the tenseness began to flow out of the quiet body lying on the floor beside him and the human's breathing calmed into the soothing rhythm of sleep.

Though he no longer required kel' no reem, the former First Prime meditated, and waited.

Finally, his patience was rewarded. Teal'c saw the brown eyes open slowly, blinking as they drifted around the room until they rested on him. There was no surprise in the expression, just a fleeting glimpse of something the Chulakian recognized as a silent thank you.

Choosing his words carefully, Teal’c broke the silence. "It is good to see you, O’Neill."

The man simply nodded.

"Are you physically injured?"

"No."

The silence returned, and stretched, the only sound the quiet breathing of the two men.

Teal’c waited patiently, knowing his friend would speak when he was ready.

At last, hours later, O’Neill spoke, the words soft and quiet and fluttering with a tremor that revealed the heartbreaking despair of a forever-unhealed wound. "He loved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches."

Teal’c nodded unspoken encouragement.

"And red jelly beans. He’d pick them out of the bag and eat only them." A sad smile ghosted across the human’s pale face.

"He wanted to be an astronaut. Or a hockey player. Or pitch for the Cubs."

"The baseball team of Chicago," Teal’c chimed in.

"He was a good kid."

"I am certain that he was."

"He…" Jack choked, suddenly feeling unable to breathe, unable to go on. "I think about him every day."

"That is fitting. Such thoughts keep our loved ones alive in our hearts forever."

"And all I’ve ever wanted was a chance to see him one more time, just to… to tell him… to tell him that…" he couldn’t go on.

The Chulakian nodded, and considered how to keep the human talking, knowing it was what O’Neill needed. Through all the years of their friendship, and though they called each other brother, they rarely expressed true feelings with words. "Seeing your son again must have been difficult for you."

"That…that thing, that…" Jack stopped and shook his head, repressing a shudder. "That wasn’t my son. It was cold. And the eyes… they were empty. None of them," he shivered again, "none of them were right."

One arched eyebrow shot up in surprise. "There was more than one?" Teal’c asked.

Jack nodded. "Hundreds of them. Calling out to me," he shivered. For a moment, the familiar O’Neill humor surfaced as he patted his chest. "I thought the old ticker was just going to call it quits right on the spot." The expression changed then, darkened, and he was silent a moment. "Back on Halla, First used my… my past as a weapon to force me to show him what he wanted."

"Indeed. He did the same to all of us. It was painful."

The man’s voice turned bitter and self-mocking. "Yeah, well, you may have done some ugly stuff, my friend, but you didn’t kill your own kid."

"You did not kill your child, O’Neill. You could not do such a thing."

"I did."

"Perhaps…"

"Stop!" Jack pushed himself up from the floor, sitting up now, shoulders braced against the sterile gray wall, his face set and hard, the brown eyes snapping. "What happened, happened. Nothing can change it. Nothing can deflect the responsibility. Believe me, if there was a way, I’d have found it by now."

"Then you must let go of your guilt, O’Neill."

"No, I mustn’t. Guilt is guilt, and it doesn’t go away, no matter how much time passes," he answered, patiently, and sighed. "Anyway, that’s not the issue at hand. Those were Replicators down there. Where did they come from?"

Before Teal’c could answer, Thor appeared in the doorway. "I do not understand how the Replicators could have escaped. I have sent one of our ships to check, and they have reported that the time bubble on Halla remains intact. Escape would be impossible."

"Escape is always possible. Ever hear of Alcatraz?" At the Asgaard's negative head shake, Jack explained. "It was a prison on Earth, built on an island. People used to think it was escape-proof. They were wrong. And you know, I seem to remember that the Replicators escaped your inescapable trap the first time, to create First and those… those," Jack couldn’t find the right word, and in frustration waved a hand in the air.

"True," Thor could not disagree.

"You know, you people are always scheming, coming up with some fancy-schmancy techno solution instead of just, I don’t know, blowing them to smithereens." Jack was frustrated now.

"We did come to your people for a ‘dumber’ idea, O’Neill."

"Yeah, and it worked, too, didn’t it?" he snapped, remembering Carter’s plan that had sucked in and destroyed the creatures menacing the Asgaard's home world. The strategy hadn’t *won* the war, but it had given the skinny gray aliens enough of an advantage to rid their sector of space of the attacking horde. "So that’s why you came back for me, isn’t it? Looking for another dumb idea."

Thor simply nodded.

"Well, this time, you’ve come to the wrong dumb human. I’ve got no ideas. I’m not Carter, with her wacky ideas to blow up suns or throw about-to-explode Stargates across the galaxy…" Jack’s voice drifted to a halt, his eyes growing bigger and rounder, his face getting even more pale.

Teal’c recognized the expression, one he had seen before when his former commander was about to reveal a simple but effective plan. "What are you thinking, O’Neill?"

The human shook his head.

"O’Neill, if you know of a plan that would destroy the Replicators, you must tell us. The fate of my people, and yours, is at stake. You know the destruction they are capable of creating. They are unstoppable. The Asgaard have failed in this task over and over again and in doing so, have succeeded only in making them ever more formidable adversaries."

"No."

The Asgaard stepped closer. "O’Neill, please. We have been friends for many years now…"

"Friends on *your* terms. We help you out, do your dirty work, and when we need *your* help, you tell us, sorry, you’re on your own. Seems sort of one sided, you know?"

"We have done what we can. We have been fighting this war for a very long time."

"A war you are trying to drag me back into once again!"

"I believe it is First who has dragged you back, O’Neill."

The human glared up at the Asgaard.

"I would like to hear your idea, O’Neill." Thor placated.

"It’s dumb."

The out-of-proportion-to-its-body gray head nodded. "Dumb is good, and most likely not as dumb as you may believe."

"Okay, then. To start with, your inescapable trap hasn’t been inescapable from the start. *We* got off that planet."

"Before the time bubble took effect."

"But with our own ship."

"Yes, O’Neill, in your primitive ship."

Jack shot the Asgaard a snide look. "Right, that *primitive* ship that was needed to go where *your* technologically superior ship couldn’t," he reminded sarcastically.

"Yes, O’Neill."

"We took our ship to that planet, landed, met First and his friends," Jack couldn’t suppress the shudder at the memory, "had a nice little picnic luncheon, shared a few war stories, and left."

"That is correct. You left in the seconds before the bubble activated."

"True. But while we were on that planet, we weren’t ever really *on* that planet," O’Neill countered smugly.

Thor tilted his head, considering the human’s words, knowing there was a hidden meaning about to be revealed. "I do not understand."

"We landed on the surface, but it wasn’t the *planet’s* surface. Carter discovered that the Replicators had reverted back to their Lego stage, you know, regressed back to little pieces. They covered the whole surface of the planet."

The gray alien nodded. "I remember Major Carter reporting that information."

"Well, what if a few of them hitched a ride out on the ship’s landing gear?" Jack could just imagine Carter’s look of astonishment at his idea. It was an expression of amazement similar to the one he saw flash briefly across the Asgaard’s usually impassive face.

"We checked your ship, O’Neill, before we allowed it to leave our galaxy. There were no Replicator parts attached to it."

Jack’s face fell. "Well, it *was* a good idea."

"Certainly…" Thor started, only to be interrupted from a different direction.

"Do not dismiss the idea so quickly, Commander Thor," Teal’c stated. "It is plausible."

"We did not find any Replicator blocks on your ship," the Asgaard insisted.

Jack had caught on to Teal’c’s idea. "What if the bugs didn’t stick around? Just hitched a ride off the planet and detached once we were in space? They could have just been floating around for years, until they finally encountered another ship, or just drifted until they landed on this planet."

Thor blinked once more. "That *would* explain their presence on this world."

"And once they began to replicate, they would have used the information First got from me, and created those, those Stepford children."

Teal’c raise an eyebrow. "Stepford children?"

"You must have seen the movie, Teal’c, creepy artificially perfect children."

The Jaffa nodded. "Indeed."

"So what do we do? Eventually, they’ll build themselves a ship and leave that planet." Jack shuddered. Every time he thought about those things, of the abomination that they were, of how they’d formed themselves into his son’s innocent image, warping it to their own evil intentions, he wanted to throw up. Swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat, he glared up at Thor. "Time for a plan, Supreme Commander, ol’ buddy."

"A dumb plan would be best."

Teal’c looked over at his former team leader. "I believe you have a plan, O’Neill."

"No."

The answer was immediate and vehement, and Teal’c knew it was not the truth. He raised an eyebrow, and looked calmly at his friend.

O’Neill’s mouth twisted into a grimace as he turned to look away, unable to meet the Jaffa’s steady gaze. After a long moment, he sighed and turned back to look defiantly at Teal’c, and then at the Asgaard. "I’m no scientist, I don’t know if this will work," he said softly.

"I may be able to answer," Thor offered.

"I know that Replicator pieces are pretty damn close to indestructible, right?"

"Correct."

"Well, I was thinking, we could connect to that planet with the black hole, the one we found years ago, and use it like a giant vacuum to scoop up all the Replicator pieces, Jack shut his eyes tightly. He wasn’t going to think of those things as anything but millions of teeny, tiny pieces, like minuscule puzzle parts. He was not going to let his mind show him the image of the form they had taken. He was not. He was not.

"This planet has no Stargate, O’Neill…"

The words blessedly dragged him back to the reality of the moment. "Oh, well, that takes care of that idea then." A part of him was relieved, actually, the part that couldn’t help but envision the hundreds of alien replicas of his son being pulled apart by the forces of gravity, like Henry Boyd had been, the flesh ripped from shattering bones… Jack fought not to gag at the vivid images his mind insisted on creating.

Thor’s voice once again interrupted the ugly images. "O’Neill, tell us the plan you were about to suggest. Perhaps we could create a variation of your idea."

Jack brushed back the visions that were swirling in his brain, and squared his shoulders. "I was thinking we could connect to that black hole, if the gate’s still there and working. But even if we could, we can’t, because once we did, we couldn’t disconnect the gate. We’d just be creating a big giant, sucking hole that would eventually pull your whole region of space into the, the… whatever. You know," Jack once again waved a hand in the air in substitute for the word he didn’t know.

The two aliens nodded.

"It would be a good plan, O’Neill." Teal’c encouraged, still worried by the paleness of his friend’s countenance.

"Maybe Carter would have an idea?"

"I believe Samantha Carter is visiting her father. I am not sure of her current location," Teal'c stated.

The universe was a damn big place. "*That’s* a problem."

"Indeed."

The two aging warriors looked over at the Asgaard.

Thor merely blinked, and blinked again, and Jack knew, just absolutely knew, he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.

"There is another possibility. We could bring a Stargate here."

"What, stop at Stargate’s R Us and pick one off the shelf?"

"There are numerous planets where the gates are unused. This ship has the capacity to remove and transport one."

"So, then what? We still have the slight problem of the little side effect, you know, the inability to turn the damn thing off once it’s on?"

"Yes, that is still a problem," Thor acknowledged.

Teal’c’s voice was steady and quiet as always. "We could connect elsewhere."

"Just sending those damn bugs away won’t be enough. They’ll find their way back." Jack knew his voice was rising, knew he was beginning to sound desperate because he was suddenly feeling out of control, like a man running for the edge of the cliff and about to go careening off, knowing he couldn’t stop.

"Not if we send them into a sun."

An even more horrible image of Charlie’s face burning, his mouth screaming silently as his flesh melted to reveal tendon and bone, flashed across O’Neill’s awareness. For a moment, he thought he was going to be sick.

"There are no Stargates on suns. Even *I* know that," Jack argued.

"It would not need to be *located* on a sun. MajorCarter destroyed Vorash by sending a connected gate into the gravitational field of a sun," Teal’c reminded.

"I remember," Jack muttered softly.

"But how would we lure them through the gate?" Jack’s mouth went suddenly dry because he knew the answer to his own question, even before he looked across at the two alien faces staring expectantly at him. "No." He uttered the word softly, knowing it was futile, knowing that once again, he would be called on to do what had to be done, no matter the personal cost. "No. I won’t. No." Still shaky, he scrambled to his feet and fled from the room, out into the hall, going somewhere, anywhere, just away from the horror fate kept revisiting upon him.

It was Teal’c who found him, of course.

O’Neill was standing in the ship’s control room, looking out of the viewscreen, out into the darkness of space which matched the blackness in his soul. Occasionally, the tiny sparkling light of a distant star could be seen, but those were the only breaks in the all-pervading darkness. The man’s shoulders were slumped and he looked exhausted and defeated. Gone was the vibrant personality that normally filled any room he occupied.

Teal’c stepped into the room, standing behind his friend.

"Guess my hide and seek skills are getting a little rusty," Jack said in a lifeless voice. "It didn’t take you long to find me."

"There are not many places to hide aboard this ship."

"True." The gray haired human was still staring outward.

"Is there some way I may assist you, O’Neill?"

He did not answer for so long that Teal’c thought perhaps the man had not heard him.

Finally, with a deep sigh, Jack shook his head, and the shadow of a smile ghosted across the wide mouth. "No. I’m long beyond help."

The former First Prime raised his large hand and laid it on his friend’s shoulder. "I would do anything for my brother." He promised, solemnly.

O’Neill turned to him for the first time, and Teal’c could see a glint of unshed tears in the tired brown eyes. "I wish there was. But this is my burden, always has been, always will be." Turning back to look out into space once more, he fell silent a moment. "Killing my son once almost killed me. And now I get to kill him a hundred times over."

The plan took time to prepare.

Thor knew of an uninhabitable planet where a Stargate stood un-used. That gate would be the one they’d send into the sun. A second gate needed to be borrowed for the temporary installation on the planet they had dubbed Stepford.

For O’Neill, the wait was agonizing. Nothing distracted him long enough to keep the images from reappearing in his brain. Though he told himself to think of something else, anything else, though he tried to sleep, he couldn’t. It was human nature, he knew he couldn’t tell himself not to think about something, because just the thinking about not thinking about it, brought it into the forefront of his brain.

And gave him a headache.

This Asgaard ship, as every other Asgaard ship he’d ever been on, was seriously lacking in distractions. Why couldn’t they have holodecks ala Star Trek? Or at least a gym and a pair of boxing gloves? A TV and VCR so he could watch *the Simpsons*? A plain old deck of cards, for cryin’ out loud?

Something.

Anything.

Anything at all that could help him stop thinking about those…those…those… things that awaited him on the planet, those corruptions of his memories of the one good thing he’d ever had in his life.

And then, all too soon, it was over and they were ready. Well, okay, he wasn’t ready, but it was time. The trap was set, now all he had to do was spring it.

As he walked beside Teal’c toward the control room, his need to do his duty warred with his heart. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t. As much as he hated what was down on that planet, why did he feel more like the rat than the bait? Why did he, much as he knew what those things were, knew what the Replicators were and would and could do, why did he feel like he was about to rip into pieces what little was left of his soul?

He wasn’t sure he could do it, knew he couldn’t if he thought about what he was doing, if he didn’t keep his focus totally on what they were, not what they looked like.

"O’Neill? Are you prepared?" Teal’c stopped, looking across at his friend.

"No," he answered honestly.

"I would be honored to accompany you."

Jack sighed. Much as he wished to have the solid presence of the Jaffa beside him, he knew it would be wrong. This was an ordeal he needed to face alone. "Thank you, Teal’c, but no."

"Then I shall be awaiting your return."

The gray-haired man nodded, unable to say anything, and they resumed their walk.

Thor was waiting for them when they reached the control room. "When you are ready, activate the signal, and I shall dial the gate…" the small alien advised.

"Right," O’Neill answered, his face pale.

"On your second signal, I will shut down the gate…"

"And beam me up on the third. Got it. Let’s get this over with, shall we?"

Thor nodded, turned one of the stones, and the human disappeared in a blinding flash of light.

************

Arrival by Asgaard transport beam wasn’t at all like traveling by Stargate. It was instantaneous. One moment you were there, and the next you were somewhere else, hardly aware of what had just happened. Not at all like stepping through the Stargate, and those indescribable seconds in between here and there, and the bone penetrating cold of those dizzying moments.

Since his last visit, the meadow had changed. Where once had been simply grass and trees, now a Stargate loomed, waiting ominously.

Filled with a sense of dreadful anticipation that had him rattled to his core, Jack O’Neill walked across the green sward and waited.

It didn’t take long.

Did the things have some radar, some heat seeking scientific gizmo that noted his arrival? Or was there some link between them and his memories? Something related to who they were, or appeared to be? Something born of the intimate knowledge they had of who he was?

The sunlight felt suddenly cold as Jack remembered what First had done to him; recalled how the alien had breached his defenses like they were nothing, how the thing bored right into his brain and uncovered the deepest, darkest secrets he had hidden as deeply as he could; how the alien thing had homed in on his greatest weakness like a heat seeking missile finding the engine of an F-15. How easily First had done it, how coldly, calculatingly; and how he had enjoyed it, tormenting him, exposing his most private thoughts and memories, rummaging through them with glee, leaving them dirtied and tainted; knowing he was leaving destruction in his wake, and more than not caring, reveling in the thrill of it.

Evil.

He’d met evil many times, but this….

Jack shuddered and looked up as he heard the first whisper of sound.

"Ddddaddddyyyyy," whispered the wind.

He closed his eyes, clenching his hands into fists until his nails tore into his palms, and ordered his heart to keep beating and his brain to remember that this wasn’t real, these things weren’t real, they were evil, they were Replicators, *they were not who they seemed to be*.

The first child stepped out of the woods, and into the clearing.

Oh God, it was sooo hard.

His eyes drank in the sight of the son he’d loved so much, even as he kept telling himself that this wasn’t Charlie, just a copy, a shell, a shadow, a thing that was using his son and using his memories of Charlie.

Charlie had been light and joy and innocence and love.

This thing was none of those.

Don’t let your eyes deceive you, don’t don’t don’t, he told himself as more of them stepped out of the woods, each an identical copy of the one face he’d spent 20 years wishing he could see again, if only for one second.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. No one could. No father could. No father should outlive his child. It was wrong, backwards, perverted.

You expected to lose your parents someday, maybe even your spouse and brothers and sisters. But you were supposed to die knowing you’d left something good to the world, that you’d made the world a better place for your children and grandchildren.

You weren’t supposed to let them go first.

No one should outlive their child.

"Charlie," he whispered the name, and felt the sob welling in his throat, and let it emerge from his mouth in a muted whisper. In that moment, he knew what he had to do. He would do his duty, and then he would let the sorrow end.

The decision freed him.

There was an end in sight now, and he could live with that.

Drawing in a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, he watched them gather until he was surrounded by them, hundreds of them.

"Ddddaaadddyyyy, help me. Take me home, Ddddaaaaaaadddyyy."

With a smile of acceptance, Jack O’Neill looked around him at the walking, talking images of his child and smiled. "Yes, I’ve come to take you home."

He felt like the pied piper as he turned and they followed him back across the meadow toward the Stargate. Reaching into his pocket, he sent the signal to Thor. By the time he and his trailing cavalcade of identical children neared the gate, the wormhole had formed, creating a shimmering blue sheen within the ring.

He’d stepped through the gate so many, many times. It was a shame he’d never counted, he thought as he walked the last steps toward the alien device and his last trip.

He stopped.

They stopped.

Turning to them, heart in his throat, barely able to speak the words, he waved a hand at the gate. "We’re going home. Through there."

The first of them looked suspiciously at him. "Aren’t you coming with us, Daddy?"

"I’ll follow. I promise. I need to make sure all of you go through the gate, that we don’t leave anyone behind. Then I’ll be the last one through."

"You must take us through, Dadddyyy."

"I will. I promise. On the memory of my son, I promise, I’ll follow. When the last of you go through."

The alien thing looked back at him through the eyes of his son, searching for deception.

"On the memory of my son, I promise."

Satisfied, it nodded, and stepped through the gate.

He watched them go, one after another, a steady stream of Charlies stepping into the void and emerging, he knew, into the raging inferno of the sun. He risked a glance at the sky, half expecting the sun’s light to change color from bright gold to blood red, but nothing changed.

One after another they went through until the last one of them paused. "Daddddyyy?" it whispered in the voice he’d loved.

It lifted its cold hand, and Jack reached out to take it, to embrace the peace of death he’d been unable to grasp all those years ago.

Stepping forward, side by side with the alien creation, Jack looked down and for one long moment let his heart win and imagine the real child stood beside him. Tears welled in his eyes and his voice shook. "It’s been so long, Charlie, so very long."

"Home, Daddy," it pleaded.

Jack O’Neill smiled, a real smile, the kind he’d so rarely allowed himself for all these long, empty years.

One more step, and they would enter the gate, and all the hurt would end at last.

"O’Neill!"

His focus had been so intent on the image beside him that he’d missed the flash of light.

Jack stopped and turned.

Teal’c had appeared just a few feet from the gate. "O’Neill, you must not."

A smile creased the lean face. "You’re wrong, Teal’c. I must. I promised Charlie."

"That is not your son."

"I know." The smile was still in place.

"Daddy, please, Daddy." The thing tugged at his hand.

"I’m going to let the guilt end. Finally." Smiling, Jack nodded down at the child and together they stepped forward.

In that moment of distraction, Teal’c acted. Lunging toward his former team leader, using his greater bulk, he slammed into O’Neill, knocking the slighter man off his feet, away from the gate.

"No!" the human roared, even as he clung to the screaming child’s hand.

"Ddddaaadddy!" the image cried out, sliding further into the gate.

Desperately, Jack hung onto it, unable to let go. He kicked his legs, but Teal’c held the man in his strong grip.

The sun’s intense gravity, transferred through the wormhole, was pulling at the child. Jack could feel his grip slipping, feel this Charlie slipping away as had the real one. "Nooooo!" he shouted as he felt the child-sized hand slide through his.

The last thing he saw was a look of surprise and terror on the being’s face as it was sucked into the wormhole.

He wanted to go after it. Rolling over, arms flailing at the strong grip that held him, he watched in despair as the wormhole shuddered and died.

"Damn you!" he shouted as Teal’c released his grip on the long legs. Jack rolled to his knees, scrambling away. "I should have gone with them. I promised! I promised!"

"Your death would serve no purpose, O’Neill."

"It would end the guilt, Teal’c. Even you said I need to end the guilt."

"Not in this way, my friend."

"There is no other way," he shouted. "There’s never been a way." The anger drained out of him, Jack sank back onto the grass at the base of the Stargate, his body sagging in defeat, his voice sounding as tired and sad as he felt, feeling the tears forming at the corner of his eyes. "You should have let me go with them. You had no right to stop me."

"I have the right of a friend and a brother."

"And I had the right of a father."

Turning his gaze away from the Jaffa, Jack stared out at the lush green of the meadow. Angrily, he brushed at his eyes, feeling betrayed by his friend.

"You have no right to destroy his memory," Teal'c stated softly.

"What?"

"You carry in your heart the memory of your son, and as long as you live, those memories live with you. To end your life needlessly is to end that piece of your son that resides within you. Do you not remember what the crystal being told you?"

"Of course I remember!"

"First showed us that the Replicators have become much more than mere machines. He infested them with his evil, with his hatred and contempt for us. You were ensnared by the image…"

Jack covered his face with his hands. "I *wanted* them to be real."

"We would all wish to find once again those we have lost, O’Neill. It is only human to do so."

A bitter laugh rolled across the landscape. "Only human. Good, T, that’s good. Only human. Only you could say that."

"But it is true, O’Neill. And it is something of which you can be proud, that despite what you have seen and done in your lifetime, you *are* still human."

"I’m going to have nightmares about this."

"Nightmares pass, and memories remain."

Jack sighed. "You are a wise man, Teal’c."

"I have learned from my brother."

"Wrong, T-man, I’ve learned from you. Often."

They sat then, in silence, as the sun sank toward the horizon, and finally, when darkness approached, O’Neill stood, and nodded, and let himself be beamed up to the Asgaard ship.

Thor was waiting for them, the great oval eyes blinking rapidly. "Are you well, O’Neill?"

He looked over at Teal’c, and wordless understanding passed between them. "Well enough for a human, ol’ buddy, well enough."

-------------------------------------

The End