The Lost Ones

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 is the property of Gekko and MGM Studios, as are all related characters, concepts, and events. They are the property of their respective creators and producers, and do not belong to me. No money is made off of this, and they are used only for entertainment purposes. They will be returned intact, when I am done with them. The same goes for the characters and concepts of Highlander: the Series. They belong to Rysher Television, Gauamont, Panzer/Davis Productions.

Author's Notes: Written in reponse to Jim's story challenge featuring my orginal character, Jeri Mckenna.

lostonesDisclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and all related, events, concepts, and characters belong to their respective creators. They are not mine and are not used for profit; no money is from this. They are the property of Gekko Films, LTD, MCA Studios, and the Fox Network. They are only used for entertainment purposes. You know the drill. Slightly AU, so I'm not entirely positive where in series continuity this would fit into, but probably shortly after the 4th season episode "Hathor".
Disclaimer 2: Highlander: the Series and all related characters, events, and concepts belong to Rysher Television, Panzer/Davis Productions. The pretend Methos who appears in the story is actually in reference to the character that was in the season 5 episode "The Messenger". Note: This is a rather belated combination response to several story challenges that were posted on the message board for the Seventh Dimension's Fan fiction Highlander Archive. <Indicates thoughts>

"The Lost Ones" by Karen

Prologue
Peach streaked with Rose Those were the first words that came to mind as the last streak of sunset washed over the ground where the obelisk squarely sat in the middle of the track of his life. Squaring his shoulders, the man tossed the long black hair worn in a loose tail down his back and looked out over the landscape. He had an excellent vantagepoint as he stood atop the summit of the tallest hill for kilometers around. Things had been different once; the village and it surrounding neighbors had lived in peace. He shifted his gaze from the ridge to the sky, watching the sun complete its travel down to the ocean and disappear. He stuffed his hands into the pockets sewn into his gray robes and awaited the arrival of the rest of the Immortal Council. The wait seemed longer than it actually was. With the sun going down it was impossible to judge the exact time of night since the first early warning sings came to his people in the form of smoke and fire.
'Murmuring of the priests acting as intermediaries for their Gods; The signs of imminent doom are all shouting loud and clear, to be seen by anyone possessing the knowledge to do so, or the desire to.'> He thought with a quick shake of a dark head and a grimace of disgust twisting his wide mouth into a sneer. Just then he was distracted by his gloomy thoughts as the remaining Council members climbed up to the summit and greeted him by name given to him: "Methos." The man thus addressed extended out his arms and to the other Council Member and clasped him around his forearms.
They stood locked together for a while, and broken the grip with a nod of acknowledgement. "Thoth." "Methos." "Shall we begin?" a woman's voice asked, sounding annoyed. "Sekhmet," Thoth said a warning note in his voice, his dark hair thinning around his scalp.
Sekhmet either pretending to be oblivious of the implied warning, ignored him, and casually reached up to remove the lion-headed mask that she wore in honor of her adopted namesake. With the mask removed her face was revealed; narrow chiseled features, black hair swept up in, its ebony strands marred only by a silver slash that drooped down over her dark eyes. She turned the mask over hands, the fingers tapered and colored with a blood red lacquer. She alternated her fixed stare between the two men watching her, and the mask and then dropped it to the ground. "A bit much, wouldn't you agree?" "We have had to put up with your theatrics, woman, in the council sessions. Now, that all members have agreed that the Gou'ald represent a threat to our civilization, it may be far too late to finally take action," Thoth replied. "Thoth, dear boy," Sekhmet purred, "Do not tell me that you suspect a spy on the Immortal Council?"
"Not a spy, just someone too afraid of his own shadow," Methos interrupted. "You said yourself that we be acting too late to affect any meaningful change. I concur with you brother, Thoth. We are all resolved to accomplish this, then I for one, say let us get on with it!"

The moon had just emerged showing a luminous face at a half full, the bright spill of light on the rocks and sparse shrub brush clinging to the mountain's stony skin. Approaching the rock wall, Sekhmet reached out a hand and thrust aside the clinging shrubbery, swearing under her breath as a thorn pierced her skin. Yanking with more force than was strictly necessary, she activated the hidden lever and a stone door swung ponderously open. Entering the hidden chamber and allowing the door to slam close up just until the point to allow a shaft of moonlight to seep through. Torches were lit high up along either wall of the chamber providing additional illumination Sekhmet went directly to the far wall where hundreds of clear glass boxes lay in orderly rows, each one containing the body of the their people. "Are you certain this is only course of action?" she tossed over her shoulder at Thoth. "If it is not, it's far too late to back out now."
Thoth nodded, and rummaged in the pouch slung around his waist, removing another smaller cloth bag which contained an incense stick, and a pouch of the lighter. The stone streaked with the same colors streaking the dawn sky. From another pouch he removed something remarkably similar to a cameo brooch carved with a triple-pronged image surmounting a slender tree trunk. "The trefoil." "Three of us, three points on the trefoil," Sekhmet murmured. "It makes sense." With that she strode forward farther along the plateau of the mountain not deigning to glance over her shoulder to see if the men would follow her, or if they were at all put out that she had taken the investigative. She needn't have worried, they were right behind her, almost treading on her heels. She nodded and proceeded to encode the final glyphs into the console embedded into the metal surface, its raised face warm to the touch, a dull throb filling the chamber like the beat of her heart activating the cryogenic system and praying to a higher deity that she did not believe in, that this would save their people from the Gou'ald, or worse from oblivion. Scene 2
Denver, Colorado present day
The iris of the Gate cycled open like the many-lidded eye of an enormous sea-going whale, along with the electronic hum of metal circuitry and technology seamlessly working in harmony might as well have served as its own counterpoint. The arrival of the SG-1 team was announced by the ring of technicians arranged in a loose semi-circle in the center of the enormous room that had at one time served as an Army Air Force hanger bay. The first object through and down the ramp was the metal probe that appeared to be nothing more than a slightly squat television screen mounted on wheels. It rolled it way down and came to a halt directly in front of General Hammond.
"Welcome, home." General Hammond, his uniform spotless and pressed, and anyone who did not know him well would think that this was always the case. He turned his body slightly, the tension he had been bottling up showing in the lines of his torso. With a nod of his head, he glanced at the technician responsible for matching up the chevrons sigils carved into the Gate's overhead arches. "Good to be back, Sir." Colonel Jack O'Neil saluted his commanding officer while with a determined stride he descended the ramp, keeping one eye on Teal'C and his reluctant and stubborn prisoner.
The prisoner's skin was as pale as the underbelly of a dead fish, so that it was almost ivory. <"Not surprising after spending hundreds of years literally frozen in time"> Major Samantha Carter thought to herself.. The prisoner's mouth was wide and twisted in a permanent sneer, as if he thought quite well of himself. His eyes were blue and he wore his dark hair to almost shoulder length.

"Who is that?" Hammond demanded wagging a thumb at the black-haired man lagging behind the others, his wrists crossed in front of him and encircled with metal restraints.
"Calls himself Methos, Sir." Major Samantha Carter shook her head; her blue eyes narrowed at darted daggers at the man they had found huddled inside a hidden cave. Tilting her blond head to one side, she mulled recent events over for a few seconds, raking her gaze over the slender form of the strange man. They had gone on the mission and things have run almost according to standard operating procedure.
"A mystery for another time," Hammond said. "Get everyone cleaned up, and then I want you all to meet in the Conference Room for a mission debriefing ASAP," Hammond ordered.
"Acknowledged, Sir," O'Neil said.
Scene 3
Later
"All right, people, let's get started," Hammond began once every convened in the conference chamber and took their accustomed places. Hammond stood at the head of the table, beside the plasma screen computer monitor mounted onto the wall, hanging in the only available space was a star chart, red lines connecting all the bright points of light that indicated star systems and planets already documented by the various SG teams. Blue lights showed areas that had yet to be explored and encoded in the base`s databases as viable dial-up locations that could be safely reached through their local Star Gate. "All but one of the stasis units were in operation," she added aloud. <Which is odd enough in itself but it bothered her no end that after several centuries, how this one man had managed to survive when all the others of his race perished. >
"One thing I don't understand if it that cryogenic chamber was a Gou'ald project why abandon everything else but leave that one area untouched?" Doctor Daniel Jackson added.
"You'd think the guls would just stay with what's worked for centuries, those Sarcophaguses. It's not their usual modus operandi, " O'Neil said. "In fact, I'm getting to the point where I'm used to it by now. Any departure from the norm makes me nervous."
"We arrived at the designated coordinates exactly on schedule." Carter began. "The place had been abandoned and did not appear to be a recent evacuation." "Any signs of a struggle, or some other natural disaster?" Hammond asked. "I couldn`t say for sure," Carter replied. "It appeared the planet had suffered from centuries of naturally occurring disasters; such as floods, earthquakes. I detected a history of seismic activity. "I'm not sure what period of time or type of civilization that would have taken place, but it was not any time in the recent past," Daniel Jackson added. "We found this pottery shard with the symbol of a trefoil carved onto it. I haven't had the opportunity to do any carbon dating on the pottery shard that incorporated elements of Egyptian mythology. The barbed trefoil." "It's similar to the symbol adopted by the medical field, the symbol of Mercury, except snakes wrapped around the center. So, what have got here?" O'Neil asked. "I lied," Methos whispered.
"About what," Hammond sighed. "My name isn't really Methos, it's Thoth." "Why pretend to be someone else?" Jackson asked, puzzled by the man's reaction to the presence of the trefoil. He racked his memory for where he come across the name Thoth before. "In Egyptian mythology Thoth was minor god with the head of an ibis bird.
"I'm no expert, but wasn't he credited for inventing the spoken and written language," Carter asked.
Daniel nodded in, staring at the stranger. "He was the scribe of the god and patron of all scribes. As lord of the books he was the royal astronomer, mathematician, and keeper of all knowledge. Rather arrogant of some folks to name their kid after him."
"It was easier." he shrugged, and swallowed a sip of water from the glass sitting in front of him.
Daniel Jackson shifted in his seat, wondering where he heard the name Methos trying to put the puzzle pieces together so it would form into a complete picture. He hard the name in connection with several archeological digs and scholarly essays that had been published almost immediately after the a team of scientists and professors from both the United States and Germany had uncovered the alien artifact fact in Egypt. Admittedly it was before his time, during the 1940's, and he would not even have been involved in the project if not for being contacted for his expertise in translating Egyptian glyphs. While he hated to admit that there were times when even he was stumped when confronted with a mystery or obscure glyph that he couldn't translate himself with his knowledge and research material available to him. He had often had to contact a research associate at the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities in Upper Pacific Coast, a fellow by the name of Adam Pierson. He had been out of touch lately with friends and colleagues in the academic world for some time now. He worried the bits and pieces, mentally shuffling them around as he would a real jigsaw puzzle, until they formed themselves into a cohesive whole, when it clicked. He remembered that Adam Pierson's latest project had something to do involving a chronicle of a fellow called Methos. "<What are the odds that they're one and the same person." The idea of a Watchers Council, I don't know if like the Illuminati, or some of governing body to maintain a checks and balance system like the government has, all the same, it's an intriguing idea." Daniel thought to himself, when he felt a sharp jab in his side as Major Carter nudged to bring his wandering attention back on the task at hand. "A few more things on the agenda," Hammond added. "There's something else I want your team to investigate further."
"You are aware that after Hathor's short investiture here, the Gou'ald have gained access to some of our more vulnerable military intelligence. As a result other System Lords have used that knowledge to infiltrate our base, and managed to integrate themselves into human society here on Earth." "I'm going with you," Methos burst out, his breath catching in his throat. In the back of his mind, he wondered if this supposed Gou'ald was whom he suspected it was, and if so, if he would recognize him. "I told everyone I was Methos, and for it while it was fun to pretend. The real Methos left us long ago came to this world called Earth. He was the one who helped to uncover the Stargate present on this world. Not me. What will happen to me when they discover that I am an imposter? All those centuries, alone, with no one to talk to. It was far better to pretend to be someone I'm not, then just be plain old Thoth." "Absolutely not," General Hammond began, folding his arm across his chest. Teal'C shifted his intent gaze from one speaker to the other, concentrating and absorbing what was being said. Trained from a very younger age to stoically ignore any discomforts of extreme heat or cold, or aches of the body, he dismissed the buzzing that began at the base of his skull and slowly wrapped its way around his head much like a snake wrapping its coils around its prey. He squirmed in his seat, wondering if anyone noticed his restlessness. No one did. A quick spasm of pain crossed his features. He wrinkled his brow, the gold sigil tattooed into his forehead which made the lines crease even deeper. He leaned back in his chair, the fingers of both hands clasped in front of him. Another spasm took hold on, stronger than the last, Teal'c felt sweat drip down his back and with a slow, sleepy feeling, he slid from his seat to the floor. The last conscious thought he had before succumbing to the blackness was: "I should have dodged that last energy blast."
O'Neil contacted Dr. Frasier via the base intercom system, "Dr. we've got a medical emergency, Teal's 's collapsed. We're sending him over right away." Her voice slightly muffled by the intercom static, "Understood. I'll be expecting you."
Scene 4
Dr. Janet Fraiser almost vaulted herself out of her desk chair, as Teal'C was wheeled into the medical ward on a metal gurney it's wheel squealing on the metal floor every time it turned a corner. She glided over, issuing orders to the nurses and medical assistants, to make her patient comfortable on the examining table. He pulse was racing, and he was unconscious. Teal'C was not a small man, and his long legs dangled over the far edge. With a stethoscope in hand, and his medical chart in the other, she ran it over him, shouting out orders to the nurses to bring the file on his unique physiology up on one of the nearby computer monitors. He was a Jaffa, with almost identical systems and vital stats to those of a human from Earth, except for the presence of the symbiote. "What happened?" she demanded of the room in general. "He collapsed during the post mission briefing," O'Neil replied, trying to find an out-of the way spot to observe the proceedings without actually getting in the way.
"A quarter CC of tetrachloride, and administer it at the base of his neck, that might bring him around, or at the least stabilize his neural system." The nurse did as she was told, and the hiss of air escaping from the pneumatic device sounds loud and jarring in the hush of the examining room. "I don't understand, The symbiote is supposed to be heal any injury, compensate for almost any attack on his central nervous system or immune system," "Dr. Frasier," the nurse said, her voice breaking, "He's beginning to flat line!"
"What the hell!" Fraiser yelled. "We had him stabilized, what's causing it?" "He's dying," Fraiser whispered, her head drooping. "Are there isn't a damn thing I can do about it."
"Snap out of it!" O'Neil shouted, gliding over so he was standing beside her, "You're a doctor, damn it! Think of something!" He grasped her by her shoulders and nearly shaking her until the teeth rattled in her head. "Okay, okay," she managed to get out. "Let me go and stop shaking me. The only thing I can think of is to perform an operation to remove the symbiotic...." "Wait a minute, that will kill him as surely as the pain from the injuries he's already sustained! Carter shouted.
"I know it's radical, but it might be his only chance. Whatever we did this time it having a negative affect on the both the host and the symbiotic. It's as if they're no longer compatible..."
"You're saying both the host and the symbiont are fighting for control of his body?" Carter asked, remembering when she too had been in a similar situation. "We should ask what he thinks of all this," she said aloud. "He's unconscious, and I don't think I can bring him around long enough for us to ask if he wants the symbiotic removed," Fraiser snapped. "Ordinarily, I wouldn't even consider suggesting such a thing, but under the circumstances I believe we don't have a choice."
"Agreed," Carter said. I don't have to like it, but you're right. It is the only way."
"I will not let a member of my team die on my watch!" Docotor Fraiser said, and set her jaw, bending down to run a whole battery of tests in a flurry of motion. "It's agreed then, that we're going through with this? Good. Then I want everyone to clear out of here," she added, waving her arms in a shooing motion. "Go, go..."
"We'll wait outside," O'Neil agreed, backing out of the room, yanking Daniel by the arm followed by Major Carter. They got as far as the hallway and O'Neil began pacing up and down its length. "What the hell was I thinking when I agreed to this?" he muttered under his breath. The other two just watched, and privately wondered what would happen to their friend now.

Making certain that they wouldn't come back in to the emergency room, Doctor Fraiser went over to the sink and began rinsing her hands with soap and water, issuing instructions over her shoulder to the aides, to begin doing the same and providing the patient with anesthesia. With that done, she went through the procedure of checking that her surgical instruments, lying a silver metal row on the equipment tray, were completely sterile. Satisfied that they were. she donned a pair of blue surgical scrubs and a white mask to cover the lower half of her face. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. The preparations were in place and the stage was set, there was nothing for it now than to plunge right in. The aide had removed Teal'c jacket and shirt, to expose his muscled chest, the bronze almost honey colored skin seemingly lacking its usual healthy sheen. "Anesthesia administered," she asked the technician "Yes, Ma'am."
"Scalpel." Accepting the instrument from the nurse's outstretched palm, Dr. Frasier brought the scalpel level with his stomach and began to slide the cutting edge of the blade in parallel arcs from left to right making shallow incisions along the body's natural lines, careful not hit bone or draw blood. That was inevitable, as parallel streaks of blood began leaking from the incisions, The aide stepped forward to dab at them with a sponge, with another aide standing by with the requisite three pints of blood in case he patient should need a transfusion.
The incision completed she motioned for the instrument to extract the symbiotic. Instrument in hand, she inserted into his stomach, alternating her the focus of her concentration from the computer's x-ray screen, where she could see it displayed, and contrasting that with what she saw with her own senses, careful to distinguish between the parasitic gul wrapped around his stomach's interior and his actual internal organs. In the back of her mind she realized that could arguably be considered one of the most delicate operations she had ever performed. She probed deeper feeling the symbiotic resist, and squirm unpleasantly. She wrapped the instrument around the parasite, making sure it would come free when she pulled it out
Janet kept going, pushing aside things like fatigue, worry, and nerves, settling into the familiar routine of an emergency operation. Ignoring the sweat that run an in unpleasantly warm trickled down her back and made her brown hair plaster to her face.
Once she had it all, she slowly backed out along the path she had already created and removed the symbiotic. With A curt nod, she indicated that the nurse place the symbiont in the glass jar prepared to receive it, the ambiotic fluid silvery in the dim lighting of the emergency room. Heaving a sigh of relief that Teal'c's vital signs were still registering, she motioned for the surgical needle and thread and began with pain-stabbing delicate motions to sew up and knit together his skin where she had made her incisions.

*
Scene 5
Afterwards
Four hours later the nurse straightened up and then went over to the sink to watch her hands. That task accomplished she glided over to the door, and opened a crack, just long enough to stick her head out and tell the members of the Sg-1 team that they could come inside again. "How is he?" O'Neil demanded, squeezing past her. "Best you see for yourself, Sir." Teal'C sat up on the operating table, his vision blurry and a vague tingling spreading throughout his body. It was an odd sensation. One he had never felt before. For a moment there it was as if his consciousness were leaving the flesh and blood vessel of his body, while it went off to explore another realm, but with an almost audible yank it was brought back. "Did I have a near-death experience? He thought to himself. "Where am I?" he asked, staring around the room, seeing people's faces swim in and out of his consciousness. "You collapsed, then blacked out. The disorientation and dizziness you're experiencing right now, is normal after a lengthy surgery." "Surgery?"
"The injuries you sustained during the mission were extensive," Dr. Frasier replied. "In order to stave off the spread of the infection, and because the symbiotic and your system fighting each other, I had to remove the symbiotic." Daniel paused to gather his thoughts, taking a deep breath he said: "What I don't understand how he could be dying of a simple energy blasts from one of the Jaffa's energy spears."
"You should understand, Daniel. I've lost count of how many times you've gone through the Gou'ald rejuvenating Sarcophaguses," Jack replied. "I'm not certain what just happened here." Dr. Fraiser straightened up from where she had been scanning the information scrolling across her computer screen. She whirled around, clipboard in hand with the matching charts of known physiological traits of both the Jaffa' and the Gou'ald. She had been with the SG command long enough to be aware that although humans and the different races they come across on the planets either inhabited or enslaved by the parasitic aliens, the Gou'ald; they were existed some very real fundamental differences in the genetic makeup of Teal'C's people. The fact remained that he had managed for years to keep his own personality intact, even although the symbiote was still present and aware inside of him. Up until now, it had been pretty much a given that he could not survive for long if the symbiotic were removed from his body. He had a very difficult decision to make and it wouldn't be easy for him to accept it either.
"True, but the gul that Teal'C has, excuse me, had, worked in a similar manner," Daniel said.
"General," O"Neil said, speaking into his com-badge, "You had better get in here, Sir. This is something you have to see with your own eyes. I've seen it, and I'm not sure I believe it."
"What is it, Colonel?"
"You'll see when you get here."

"He's dead, but he's not dead," Jackson said, once Hammond had arrived. "Let's pretend," Hammond said, raising a hand to stem the tide of arguments," that for the sake of argument, that I'm following all of this. Are you saying that Teal'C died upon removal of the gul?" "That's exactly what I'm saying, Sir," Dr. Frasier nodded. "He's looks very much alive to me," Hammond replied, turning to address the patient lying in the bed of the military convalescent ward of the base. "How do you feel, son?"
"The host is supposed to die after, right?" Jackson asked.

"Right, he did, and he didn't." Dr. Frasier replied, staring at the vital signs that fluctuated wildly.
"I died, Doctor," Teal'C murmured, sitting up straight in the bed. "I do not understand, O`Neil. How can I still be alive when I am dead?". "Neither do I," she muttered.
`I might be able to help with that. Everyone better make themselves comfortable for what I have to say is going to sound rather strange," Methos said, dragging over a folding metal chair stacked by the near wall. "This might take a while, and I'm really not sure where to begin..."he trailed off. "All I want to know if Teal'c's fit to return to duty," O'Neil griped. "How long have you been standing there?" "Long enough," Thoth replied.
"This had better be good," O'Neil warned. "Well, It's like this. I'm not really certain that you'll understand Actually, on second thought it be easier to show you. The man who now called himself Thoth, turned to Doctor Frasier. "Doctor, might I borrow something sharp?" "Depends on what you want to use it for." handing him a blade with a serrated edge. Freshly washed with antiseptic.
He nodded to her and then rolled up the sleeve of his gray sweatshirt so that his bare arm showed all the way to the elbow. Thoth turned the blade over in his hands, and then without so much as flinching or crying out, he plunged the sharp blade into the skin of his forearm, Bright red bubbles of blood sprouted. Major Carter quickly glanced around trying to find gauze or something else appropriate to staunch the bleeding, in the few seconds she took her attention off of him, bright blue streak of electricity sprouted up along the puckered edges of his skin, to her eyes it was as if suddenly the energy patterns generated by static electricity had finally become visible spectrum of light and energy seen by the naked eye. A few seconds later his wound closed without even so much as scar to show it had even been there. "Care to explain that magic trick?" O'Neil demanded. "Well, it's, You see, I am a Immortal." Tooth shrugged. "There are many like me, some good, some evil, There were more at one time, and only a handful remained behind on our world to attempt a last ditch attempt to save our civilization from the Gou'ald."
"Were did the others go?" Hammond asked. "They had already escape through the Star Gate and arrived on this planet." "There has got to be a catch to this, immortality, from almost all the cultural myths and legends from around the world, "Doctor Jackson said. "The bottom line is, things are never everything they're cracked up to be" "You're right," Thoth said. "We die, we just don't stay dead. And as for Teal'C, I believe that he's what is referred to as a pre-immie. Usually, these are people completely unaware o that aspect of their nature until they've `died' for the first time and revived."
"If they are Immortals present on this planet, which I doubt," O'Neil said, "How come no one has ever heard of you before?" "They have, It's not like we'd be out to shout our presence from every rooftop. There's a secret society called The Watchers who observe and record, to chronicle the lives of Immortals." It's part of a Cosmic Game, where each Immortal has to go around and challenge each other to a fight to the death." "And what does the winner get?" Hammond asked, heaving a sigh, obviously after thousands of years in cryogenic sleep, his sanity had gone with it. "When the dust settles at the Endgame, the last one standing will have the accumulated knowledge and power of every Immortal who ever lived;" Thoth shrugged, "Enough to rule the world."

"I've had it!" All I want to know if he's fit to return to duty an go on the mission," O'Neil demanded, out of patience, and began tapping his left foot on the metal floor. In the back of his mind, he thought with some disgust, `I might have to take along the annoying fellow, Methos, after all. While I'm happy that Teal'C no longer has to have that nasty parasite worm inside his belly, it had it is advantages. He's had it so long, and until we ran into him on the planet once ruled by Apotheosis, it was part of TealC's identity as one of the Jaffas. Now it's not there anymore. Teal'C's s a strong man, solid, dependable. I'm glad he survived the operation. Never been one for going under the knife, and I'm glad he's alive. It is just my imagination but does he look smaller now, diminished somehow?"> He shook his head, and began tapping his right as the feeling in his feet started going numb. He was jolted out of his rambling thoughts when Dr. Frazier tapped on his shoulder and repeated what he had said the first time, only louder, thinking it hadn't registered, and it hadn't. "Yes and No. By all rights he should not even up and around. I've seen people come back to life on the operating table. As much as we've learned about the guls, I'd say yes. No, because he nearly flat lined shortly after I extracted the symbiotic."
"I hate to be a worrywart, but how is this one of teammate is an Immortal going to g over with the brass?" O'Neil asked, then rubbed the corners of his eyes with the back of his hands, trying to soothe away a lingering headache. "The last thing we need is Colonel Maybourne jumping at shadows, and then once he finally puts two and two together..."
"He'll end up with four squared to tenth power to find excuses to make trouble for us. Then he will likely go running off with everything he knows to whisper into the wrong ears, and pull the wrong strings" Major Carter added. "Let me worry about that, Major," Hammond said. "Our priority right now is making defusing this situation with a possible Gul is residence in the upper Pacific Northwest."
"What if the gul who's hiding out at this safe house is really Methos," O'Neil sneaked a sidelong glance at Thoth, "A 5,000 year old man from another planet who came to this world along other members of his race in pursuit of what?" "I wish I could answer that for you, Colonel" Thoth replied. "I wish I really were Methos, but the only person who can answer that question is Methos, and I think you already know where you can find him."

Scene 6
The next evening
Teal'C shook his head, the lines in his brow growing ever deeper. It had only been a matter of a few days since he had been separated from the symbiotic, and much to his surprise and the shock of his team-mates and colleagues, not only was he still very much alive, but the injuries he had sustained from the power surge on that side of the Gate of the planet, but t he scars from the surgery to remove the symbiotic were now nothing more than a memory. He took his attention off what the others were saying about this supposed scholar who could interpret more obscure Egyptian and Sumerian hieroglyphics, and reached to rub at the short hairs at the back of his neck, wondering why they were standing on end, and he was suddenly developing a headache that sounded much like the scrapping of filament insect wings rubbing together; running from the soles of his feet then all the way up his body to end at the base of his skull. It was irritating. He glanced into the floor to ceiling window of the house the team had identified as the residence of one Adam Pierson, a senior research associate with a local museum specializing in ancient Egyptian and Sumerian artifacts. Daniel Jackson was walking and expounding on a theory he had on the trefoil glyphs which caused him to trip over his own feet. Major Carter was there to help him regain his balance. Flanking them, Colonel Jack O'Neil stared fixedly at the gravel pathway underneath the soles of his boots, occasionally glancing at Thoth who was dressed in a spare gray jumpsuit and a blue sweatshirt . It was the best they could do at a moment's notice, being unable to find anything else more suitable among the base's discards and laundering services. Thoth didn't seem to mind, although Teal'C wasn't sure which was worse, the fact that the man's conviction that he was 5,000 years old, and originated from the abandoned alien planet they had discovered only a few days before, or the fact that he was utterly convinced that they had to find Adam Pierson, in order to solve the mystery of the glyph on the ancient pottery shard with the barbed trefoil carved onto its surface.
At this point Teal'C did not much care what they did with the trefoil, smash it into a million pieces, or wrap it up in industrial packaging and ship it off to some Egyptian Antiquities Museum where it would be studied; forgotten among the dust of centuries. Teal'C felt his forehead with a free hand, where the gold sigil tattoo was still etched into his skin. At one time it had represented his rank among the elite of the alien Gou'ald First System Lord, Apotheis. He had once had served as one the elite bodyguards, the Jaffa; now it was merely a reminder that he no longer was a servant of the parasitic aliens, and was his own man. Now he alongside other soldiers in the battle to defeat the Gou'ald's expansion of conquest throughout the universe. Through layers of fabric he could still feel, just barely, the scar of the surgery, as Doctor Janet Fraiser prepped him for surgery, the nurses professional and unobtrusively stand near ready to hand operating instruments and dose him with medicines as instructed. He had been under the knife for hours, but it had felt even longer while he been out cold. The scar was about as long as the gul that had taken over at its host. He thought back, and wondered if he had been such a good idea to keep the container holding the dead alien's corpse.

O'Neil approached the front door of the rambler, and wrapped his hand around the wooden knocker carved to resemble a lion's head. He rapped it a couple of times and then tried the doorbell.
"Daniel, are you sure this is where Adam Pierson lives?" "I'm sure."

Scene 7 Encounter
Methos rose from his chair to answer the insistent ringing of the doorbell muttering a curse in several languages as somehow of the black liquid of his coffee sloshed over the rim of the can and onto his clothes. He opened the door to find four people standing on his front porch. . Twisting around on cat quick feet, trying to remember in a fuzzy not enough caffeine sort of way, where he had stashed his sword. <You'd think another Immortal would have the chutzpah to wait until I've had my morning coffee before making a nuisance of him/herself> Methos thought with some disgust, the tell-tale "Buzz" of another Immortal presence causing the short dark hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. He gave his surroundings a 360-degree inspection, and was irritated to note that his senses read not one but two presence's, one much like his one, and one that was relative newborn. "What the hell do you want?" Methos growled. "You Adam Pierson? O'Neil asked, folding his arms across his chest. "Who wants to know?" Methos replied.
"Not very hospitable is he?" O'Neill remarked to no one in particular. "All right, "I'm Colonel Jack O'Neil, we're with a special branch of the United States Air force, and it's our understanding that you're something of a expert in translating ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics." "Okay, you've alternately flattered, insulted, and intrigued me," Methos replied, taking a few steps backwards, and processing all this through his mind. As he did so, O'Neil and his buddies seemed to take as tacit invitation to enter his house. "Ah, the living room's right over there. "Thank you," Carter replied, smiling.
Once every one had taken a seat on the circular black leather couch in his living room Methos sat down. "I'd over you coffee, but I'm fresh out." "Don't worry this won't take long," O'Neil replied. "Allow me to introduce everyone here, "Major Samantha Carter, Doctor Daniel Jackson, and Teal'C, and I believe you already know him. Calls himself Thoth." he rattled off the round of introductions all in one breath.

"Don't you recognize me?" the other said, stepping forward into the full illumination of the fluorescent lights, until it etched his high narrow cheekbones, showed his dark eyes and hair, and the narrow mouth, its full lips pressed together with determination. "I'm Thoth," the other announced without the formality Methos was accustomed to when encountering other Immortals. Methos had been drinking heavily in the last couple of days, and two and two refused to add up to four. After a moment it clicked, this was Thoth. <"The coward," Methos thought to himself, even Kronos wouldn't want anything to do with him. <`And what does he think he's doing trying to pass himself off as me?">
"Have you ever heard of doppelgangers?" one of the strangers asked. Daniel Jackson perked up, and scanned through the compartments in his head for the obscure reference of the supernatural being. Admittedly his specialty lay more along the lines of Egyptian Mythology, but he knew he had heard of such creatures before. "It's from German language and literally means `double-goer, and as such falls into the wide category of spirit double." "Daniel," O'Neil whispered, glancing at him over his shoulder. "Sighting a doppelganger is often considered a death omen, but it isn't definite," Daniel continued on, ignoring both the warning note and look in the older man's eyes. "The most entertaining version of doppelgangers has to do with a belief surrounding mirrors and the spirit world. Sometimes what you see in the mirror is not just your own reflection; but a window into the realm of spirit, so what you see is actually your doppelganger looking back at you." "He's not me. He's an impostor," Methos insisted, staring with sneering contempt at the man with the shoulder length brown hair and light blue eyes. "I don't know why you think you're me, because I've been me longer than you have." "Nice, so that's why vampires have no reflection," Carter said, humoring him. "As soulless creatures, they have no duplicate in the realm of the spirit." "All well and good, so long as my doppelganger decides to stay on its side of the glass," Methos said, folding his arms across his chest. "This is all very entertaining, and even informative, but what do you really want?" he demanded. "I'm sure you'll recognize this," Jackson said, rummaging around in the pockets of his jacket and coming out with a pottery shard carved with the symbol of the barbed trefoil.
"So, that you could have come from just any museum from anywhere in the world. I should know," Methos replied, lounging back in his chair, deceptively at ease and t
trying not to show that recognized the symbol. Admittedly, it was rather common in usage in the field of botany. And in use in the field of chemical, especially as warning labels on dangerous chemicals indicating biohazards. Although his memory of the last five thousand years was murky at best, he knew where and when he first seen that symbol, turning to glare at Thoth, <`Damn you> Why couldn't you leave well enough alone` he thought to himself. Aloud he said, "Why the hell are you mixed up with the military?"
Thoth curled into himself trying to burrow deeper in the deep seat cushions of the black leather couch, trying to avoid making eye contact with Methos. "It's a long story," O'Neil replied. "I'm given to understand that it has something to with an alien race of Immortals." He shrugged. "I, however, have my doubts about their supposed ability to live forever. That is not possible." "You already know about Immortals? How did that happen?" Methos stammered. "I told them," Thoth whispered. "Do you remember the Star Gate?" Methos let his assumed faade of unconcern and confidence ooze away like blood from a wound, then jolted to his feet. His narrow mouth twisted into a grimace, his teeth bared, he sprang forward, hoisting Thoth into the air, holding onto him by the lapel of his sweat shirt, he began shaking the smaller man repeatedly until the teeth rattled in his head. "Why did you tell them! That's not in the Rules! Damn it all to hell!" Speaking of which, Hell, I could count on the finger of one hand the sum total of people I trust about being Immortal, and YOU! YOU, go and tell the whole friggin United States Military? Do you have any idea what you've done! Do you!"
"UHH, UHH," Thoth responded, unable to utter anything more coherent from the breath cut off, and the repeated shaking. "Let him go," Teal'C evenly said, gliding forward and stepping in between the two men.
"What Rules?" Carter asked, intrigued in spite of herself." From your reaction and obvious emphasis, they are important enough to risk this kind of public outburst."
"I don't owe any of you an explanation," Methos muttered under his breath, collapsing back into his chair.
"I think you do," Thoth whispered. "We do not have to fight," the other began, a sickeningly sweet smile spreading across his face. "We can lay down our swords and reach a mutually beneficial understanding." "You gotta be kidding me." Methos sneered. "That isn't the way it's done, and we both know it." Methos stared into the other man's eyes and is expression changed from disbelief to one of surprise. He twisted around on the soles of his feet and without saying anything and no warning given, punched the other man right in the face.
"Typical," Thoth replied, standing up and rubbing his sore jaw. "When in doubt, resort to violence or run away. Methos, after all these years, I suppose it's no wonder that you would revert to form."
"Don't even go there," Methos he whispered under his breath. After five thousand years of existence as an Immortal one thing the he was certain of, "I am the real Methos" not this sorry wannabe poser," he muttered to himself under his breath. His memory of the last 5,000 years, admittedly, was a bit hazy; he couldn't even remember his first `death'. "I remember seeing Thoth before, and learning about the Stargate's discovery during the late 1940's and how it was unearthed at the Valley of the Kings in Egypt. But how does that have anything to do with some obscure branch of the United States Air Force. It doesn't add up."
"Let's say," Methos began, smiling, baring his teeth again. "For the sake of argument, that you're right. Live, learn, fight and grow stronger, and live to fight another day, that's my Philosophy." "Indeed," Thoth smiled, "Might I have the opportunity to convince you to adopt another one?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Methos snapped. "Maybe we should leave the room," Carter whispered in an aside to Colonel O'Neil.
Scene 8 Conclusion
"Methos, trust me on this. All those countless centuries of fighting to death, of taking each other heads for some mystical a potentially unobtainable prize. "Where have you been, brother," Methos said, sneering, "I can't believe a coward like you could have lasted 5,000 years. Let alone 5 years. Be that as it may, you've got my attention."
"I've been in cryogenic sleep on the old Immortal homeworld," Thoth replied, and while my body was frozen, my mind was very much aware, and I've had time to think"
"Pardon me, while I heave up my guts," Methos interrupted. "Frozen in time? Literally? Do you expect me to believe that?" "No, but it's true," Thoth replied. He gulped and swallowed another sip of water, the corners around his eyes beginning to twitch back and forth showing his inner tension.
"The Immortals were experiments created by the Gou'ald, they had to battle each other, until the last one standing would become one of the System Lords," Thoth replied, ignoring the other's outburst. "Experiments," O'Neil echoed, startled enough that he lost his grip on his coffee and the black liquid splattered over the front of his uniform. "I would not put anything past my former slave-masters," Teal'C said. "And what do you expect me to do about it?" Methos demanded. "Well, they already know about us, so what could it hurt to give the path of a peace a try?" Thoth said.
"Because you told them!" Methos shouted. "Well, yes," Thoth blushed. "I had to, and part of the truth seemed to me better than a complete lie. Who knows I may be the first Immortal to completely fess up when push came to shove."
"Damn it all to hell and gone! Do you have any idea of how manage trouble you've caused?" Methos cursed in several languages and began pacing around the circumference of his living room.
"I have a solution," Carter said.
"What might that be?" Methos glared at her, and despite the turbulent emotions, and the potential damage control he would have to do, he found her rather attractive, even if she did wear her blond hair very short, almost sweeping around her ears.
"Well, you two aren't the only Immortals around, right? In that case, between the two of you, you've ten thousand years of experience and I'm sure that's more than enough to teach Teal'c here everything he needs to know about being Immortal."
"Oh," Methos stopped in his tracks. "I'd forgotten all about the newbie. Turning to Thoth, "Tell me, this was all part of your plan. That you did this deliberately."
"Yes, and No," Thoth replied.
"I hate taking on students," Methos snapped, but I feel like a worm on a hook" He shook his shoulders, loosening the kinks in his muscles, "All right, exactly what do you do again at this Star Gate project?" "We protect the planet from aliens," O'Neil replied. "Oh sure," Methos replied.
"I'm serious," O'Neil said.
"And you want me to join up with your little crusade in protecting the planet while showing the newbie Immortal here, the ropes," Methos said. "That's about the size of it," Carter smiled. "Maybe after 5,000 years I'm finally going senile," Methos groaned and collapsed back into his seat. "Okay, I'll do it." "Honestly, I didn't believe that you would agree so readily, brother," Thoth said.
"Bully for you," Methos whispered.
END

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