Author's Notes: Special thanks to Anne for the alpha read.

Chapter Sixteen
Answering the Questions

The ascended Abydonians watched Danyel. They could not protect him as Shifu did, with illusions and misdirections that prevented the Others from noticing Danyel's awakening knowledge. But to watch, even if they did nothing else, was a great honor. He was family. As long as he lived, so did Abydos.

O'Neill, too, was part of Abydos. When he asked for help, they could not deny him. It was dangerous for one of them to cross the threshold and concentrate enough energy to create a physical form. They didn't have Shifu's skill or his many years among the Others. But O'Neill had called.

Skaara demanded the risk, and he too could not be denied. He was Danyel's brother and the keeper of O'Neill's fire-maker. The demon who had once possessed him had given him insight into the worlds that were not Abydos, so he understood the strange sights that others of his kind could not imagine. He had also visited the physical realm once before, though with Oma's help, so he could tell O'Neill and his team that the Abydos they knew was gone. The Abydonians gave Skaara their blessing.

Skaara walked on spongy grass and marveled at it. Klorel, the demon, had brought him to many worlds but none as green as this one. The warm evening breeze spoke of summer. It brought a smell of cooking meat and a sound of laughter. He rounded a corner. There, O'Neill stood on a platform of wood, sipping from a bronzecolored bottle, standing guard over a metal box that smoked and sizzled. Danyel, so small that the sight of him would have moved Skaara to tears if his eyes were real, was laughing, held high in the air by the Jaffa called Teal'c. Teal'c sprinted across the yard, with Danyel like a bird above him, while the ones called Carter and Jonas gave chase.

Skaara stepped onto the wooden platform, and because his physical form lacked substance, he made no sound that O'Neill could detect. He called the man's name. O'Neill spun. The wariness in his eyes changed to welcome.

"Skaara!" O'Neill closed the distance between them, intent on an embrace that Skaara could not allow. His grasp on the physical was too shaky. If he lost hold of his energy here, he might not find the threshold again.

He deflected O'Neill's purpose with a raised hand. "Please, my friend. Do not touch me."

        O'Neill backed off and looked with eyes that saw deeply.  "You all right, buddy?"
        "The physical form is hard to maintain.  I will be well, O'Neill."  He smiled wide 
because he could not help it.  "It is very good to see you, O'Neill."
        O'Neill lifted his bottle in a salute.  "Back atcha, kid.  So...  This a social visit?"
        "I came to answer your questions."
        "Ah."  Shadows of worry lurked in O'Neill's eyes.  He tipped the bottle toward 

his mouth and took a swallow from it. "It's not that I'm complaining here, but Daniel... Well, he's doing some strange things."

"When your heart beats, is it strange, O'Neill? When you breathe, do you call it odd?"

        "What is it with you people and the riddles?"
        Skaara nodded at the frustration evident in O'Neill's voice.  "It is no riddle, 

O'Neill. What Danyel does is as natural to him as breathing. He cannot stop himself any more than you can stop your heart and still live."

"Natural, huh? I seem to recall asking Shifu if Daniel was human, and I hate to break it to you, Skaara, but this is not natural for us lowly humans."

        "Danyel is a human with the knowledge of the Ancients.  He chose this."
        O'Neill looked pointedly at the child in his yard and then back at Skaara with a 
raised eyebrow.
        "Gahk.  I am explaining badly," Skaara said.  "It is true we chose the physical 

body for him. But Danyel himself chose the memories with which he wanted to return. He knew what the Others sought, but he kept it from them. Instead, he gave them pieces of who he was while he preserved what he wished to bring home to you. He deemed the knowledge and the language of the Ancients more important than his personal identity."

"Well, that sounds like a typical Daniel decision. He's always had a fucked-up sense of his own self-worth."

Skaara could not disagree. The story of Danyel's ascension was legend among the Abydonians. How Danyel had found fault with himself, how he could not see his own importance to the fight because the fight itself had overwhelmed him, how he had perceived only failure and guilt instead of the great good he had done. Oma herself had told the Abydonians how she feared Danyel would not release his burdens before death took him irrevocably from the path of ascension.

        "So you're telling me the glowy thing is normal for Daniel now," O'Neill said.
        "The exercise of his knowledge, yes.  He will not, as you put it, glow all the time, 
just as a child who is learning to walk does not always stumble."
        "Oy, you lost me.  Walking?  Glowing?"  He spread his arms as if to balance the 
two concepts against each other.
        "Learning to walk, O'Neill," Skaara repeated, emphasizing his point.  "Or in 
Danyel's case, relearning.  He is rediscovering what he can do."
        "And sometimes he glows because..."  O'Neill elongated the word and looked to 
Skaara for the reason.
        "To act on the Ancients' knowledge requires energy.  When he glows, Danyel is 

pulling energy from an outside source. From the earth, perhaps, or from the electricity in the air. Possibly from the ethereal plane itself. At other times, those in which you have seen no glow, Danyel manipulates his own energy. As he grows comfortable in his power, he will use his own energy more often and only draw from outside himself when the need is great."

O'Neill pondered this, taking the time to drink from his bottle. He poked at the meat pieces cooking inside the metal box, flipped two, and nudged the others in new positions. In the yard, Danyel was now running after the three adults, chasing one and then veering off to chase another. Finally he caught up to Jonas, slapped the man's leg, and yelled, "Tag! You're it!" Then he raced away, squealing when Jonas pretended to lunge after him.

O'Neill finished with the meat and focused on Skaara again. "Why now? We've had him a month. Why didn't he do all this stuff when he first came back?"

"His fear of the Others blocked the knowledge from awakening. That has changed."

O'Neill's lips tightened into a thin line. "Because he threw Rosenberg against the wall."

Skaara shook his head. "No. He reacted then to emotion. It was accidental and uncontrolled. Now he uses the knowledge deliberately and manipulates his energy with intent."

        "You just said it was automatic, like breathing or something."
        "When you walk, you do not consider how you walk.  You merely make the 
decision to walk."  
        O'Neill drank from his bottle again.  The confusion was still visible on his face, 
and Skaara wished for Shifu, who was wiser in the ways of the ascended ones.
        "Okay, you're still not answering my question here, Skaara.  Why now?  When he 

came back, he was pretty adamant about not using any of the knowledge. He was terrified the Others would find out."

        "We believe he has learned something that outweighs his fear." 
        "What?"
        Skaara rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, feeling the strain of holding this 
physical form.  "He will not tell us."
        "But if he keeps it up, the Others'll find him, won't they?"
        "It is inevitable, O'Neill."  He paused and then confessed a truth, "It was always 

inevitable. We have known since we descended Danyel that the Others would find him eventually."

O'Neill stared, his eyes dark with some indefinable emotion. "What was the point then? Why bring him back into my--our lives if the Others are just going to steal him away?"

"Danyel is wise. He understands many things that we do not. We believed if we gave him time, he would find a way to protect himself."

        "Has he?"
        "We do not know," Skaara admitted.
        O'Neill threw his hands in the air.  Liquid sloshed out of the bottle he held.  "I 
don't believe you people.  Either you're spouting nonsense or you can't tell me anything."
        "Forgive me, O'Neill.  Danyel says very little to us."
        "He's probably afraid of being overheard," O'Neill grumbled and turned to check 
the meat again.
        The statement startled Skaara.  No one had considered the possibility that their 

communication with Danyel might be overheard. In one simple statement, O'Neill proved the point Skaara had been trying to make. Danyel, even if he was six years old and still recovering from his ordeal among the Others, had a more intuitive grasp on the dangers of his situation than all the Abydonians together.

O'Neill glanced over his shoulder, raised an eyebrow, and turned fully to face Skaara. "Hey, you're flickering."

        Skaara firmed his hold on the physical form.  "I must go soon."
        "Time for one more question?"
        Skaara nodded.
        "Okay, this glowy thing where he reads my mind--"
        "I do not understand.  Is not reading for books?"
        "He knows what I'm thinking," O'Neill clarified.
        Skaara laughed.  "That is not a `glowy thing,' O'Neill!  It is a thing of the soul 

that has always existed. Even before I could speak this English, I saw this soul-bond between you and Danyel. Remember, in the cave after we freed you from Ra? He spoke to you. I did not understand the words, but I knew he opened something in your heart. I always wondered what he said."

"He said you all wanted to live," O'Neill said quietly, gazing into the past as if he had forgotten Skaara's presence, "and it was a shame I was in a hurry to die. If anyone else had said it, I'd have hit him. But Daniel... I owed him." After a pause, O'Neill added, "It was weird. I didn't know how much I wanted to live until that moment when he died instead."

"I have seen you and Danyel speak without no words," Skaara said softly. "I have seen you speak harsh words and still remain friends. I have seen you do this thing where you read each other's minds. It is not a new thing, O'Neill, and not a `glowy thing,' as you would call it. Perhaps Danyel has strengthened it somehow, but the soul-bond has always been."

His physical form wavered again. At the threshold, Kasuf urged his son back to the ethereal plane.

"O'Neill, I must go now. Be strong for Danyel. When the Others come, he will need you."

        "Need me for what?  I can't fight on your level," O'Neill groused.
        But Skaara was unable to reassure him.  He had lost hold of the physical form and 

disappeared from O'Neill's sight. He hurried to the threshold and the anxious Abydonians who awaited him there. Before he passed into the ethereal, he glanced back to see O'Neill watching Danyel with a look of fierce protection. Skaara had no doubt whatever Danyel needed from O'Neill, whatever the price, O'Neill would do it.

#

Daniel stared at the TV. He was supposed to be watching something while Jack made supper, but the screen was dark. He didn't notice. He was 'membering. Images flooded his mind and absorbed all his attention. He was drowning in the deluge. Every once in a while, a thought emerged, more vivid than the rest, and he scrambled to jot a note about it before he lost it to the tumult.

This happened to him a lot now, although usually in the early morning just before he fully awoke. All of a sudden, his mind would be saturated with memories. The knowledge he'd tucked away came pouring out of the nooks and crannies where he'd hidden it from the Others. He didn't understand it all cuz he wasn't 'scended anymore. There was too much information, and he thought maybe his brain wasn't big enough, even though he'd overheard Doctor Janet tell Jack that Daniel was using more of his brain than was normal for a human. But the knowledge was there, and he'd learned that if he concentrated on what he wanted, the memory floated to the surface.

When the images resettled into the background of his mind, Daniel opened his eyes and saw Jack. Jack was sitting in a nearby chair, frightfully still, like a statue, staring at Daniel with an expression of subdued panic that seemed a breath away from outright terror.

        "Jack?  What's wrong?"
        "I might ask you the same," Jack answered in his deadly quiet, Black Ops voice, 
the one that meant he'd explode at the slightest provocation.
        "Jack?"
        "Daniel, you've been staring at the TV for three hours," Jack said, still slowly, as 

if willpower alone were holding him to the chair. Daniel had the feeling Jack wanted to leap across the distance separating them and strangle him. "You haven't moved except to write in your notebook. You haven't talked. You wouldn't answer me. You just sat there. I didn't know what was happening. I thought the Others--"

Jack broke off as his voice became hoarse. He lowered his face to his hands and scrubbed at it. Appalled at how much he'd scared Jack, Daniel started to move to him. A stabbing pain sent him reeling back against the couch. He heard Jack yell his name and reached blindly in the direction of the call.

Then he felt Jack's arms surround him and heard the familiar, comfortable litany, "I've got you, Danny. Just relax."

He slumped into Jack's care. Jack scooped him up and positioned him on the couch so he was lying with his head cushioned by a pillow in Jack's lap. He blinked blearily. Jack's face hovered anxiously over his own.

"Headache?" Jack asked softly, but he didn't wait for an answer before his fingers began massaging Daniel's temples.

Daniel started to nod and decided against it when a fresh wave of pain spiked through his forehead. He slitted his eyes, concentrating on the comfort of Jack's touch. "I was 'membering."

        "Yeah?  Didn't Doc tell you not to force the memories?"
        "Didn't.  They just comed.  It's 'portant stuff, Jack.  From when I was 'scended.  I 
taked notes."
        Jack continued the massage with one hand while he picked up Daniel's notebook.  

"Danny, this is sloppy even for you. I don't think note-taking and jaunts down memory lane work together." Jack squinted at the page. "Daiquiri?"

        "Dakara."
        "Who's that?"
        "It's a place."  Daniel paused to consider the hazy memories and then admitted, "I 
think."
        "You think?"
        "It got all jumbled up."  He shifted restlessly.  The notes were supposed to help 

him 'member, but he didn't. He only had a vague idea what the word meant. "It was 'portant, Jack!"

"Hey, don't panic." Jack set the notebook on the couch arm, rested his hand on Daniel's chest, and rubbed circles there. "It'll come back to you. And if it doesn't, it's no big deal, okay? Unless it was a great big honkin' space gun."

Daniel knew from Jack's voice that he was teasing, but the comment triggered the memory. He shot up, forgetting the headache until his sudden movement set it pounding again. He sagged back to the pillow.

        "Ow."
        Jack chuckled.  "I recommend not moving, oh, for another half-hour at least."
        Daniel couldn't argue with that one.  He waited for the pain to ease off and then 

said, "There's a device on Dakara. It's not a weapon, zactly, but I think it'll work 'gainst the Lego bugs."

        Jack cocked an eyebrow.  "Lego bugs?"
        "I can't 'member what they're called.  They look like they're made out of Legos.  
They eat things and make more Lego bugs."  Daniel flapped a hand.  "You know."
        Jack's lips twitched.  "You mean the Replicators?"
        "That's it.  Repli-craters.  But Lego bugs doesn't sound so scary."  More 

memories had surfaced during their discussion. "I think the device on Dakara will destroy the Repli-craters, Jack, but it's dangerous. You gotta set it just right, or it'll blow up everything. The whole universe."

        "Big bang kind of weapon, huh?" 
        Daniel ignored the comment.  He gnawed on his lip, looking inward, watching the 

ebb and flow of knowledge. Jack wouldn't like the next part. "When you find Dakara, you gotta take me with."

        "I don't think so, Dannyboy."
        "Jack, you gotta.  You gotta set it right, and it's hiding behind a wall, and it's 
all in Ancient, and I'm the only one who can read it."
        "It's not safe for you to go offworld, Daniel.  Not now.  Why don't you teach 
Allyssa or someone how to read Ancient?"
        Daniel frowned.  He could do that, he supposed.  He could write a dishenairy with 

Ancient words, but he didn't think it'd be enough. And he didn't think there'd be time. Sometimes a part of his mind could look other places and see stuff, and somewhere out there, the Repli-craters were coming. They were coming soon.

"Let's see what else you got here," Jack said in an obvious attempt to steer Daniel's thoughts away from going offworld. He looked at Daniel's notebook and read the next word. "Ear bus."

"Erebus," Daniel corrected automatically, but the memories that followed the word were as indistinct as ghosts. "Something about...Teal'c. Or Rya'c, maybe. I don't know."

He shifted again, starting to feel angry with himself. He shoulda taked better notes. He should have--

        "Gavril," Jack read, pronouncing it correctly for once.
        Daniel forgot how to breathe.  Had he really written that word down?  The 

memories flowed into his mind, fast and furious. He whimpered under the onslaught. No, no, no. He didn't want to think about this. He didn't want to remember. Not this. Please stop. Don't. Don't. Please.

        "Daniel?  Daniel!  Stay with me, buddy.  Daniel?"
        Daniel latched onto the lifeline that was Jack's voice.  He shoved the nightmare 
away, dragged air into his starving lungs, and looked up at Jack's pale face.
        "What was that?" Jack demanded.  He sounded angry, but Daniel knew he wasn't.  
Fear rimmed his eyes.
        "Nothing.  I'm fine."  He tried to roll off the couch, away from Jack's oppressive 
concern.  "It's nothing, Jack."
        Jack held him in place.  "Don't give me that, Daniel.  You went whiter than a 
sheet just now.  Talk to me."
        Daniel shivered.  He didn't want to talk.  He wanted to curl up in a ball and hide.  

One of Jack's fingers stroked gently along the outer curve of Daniel's ear. Again. And again. The rhythmic touch warmed and calmed Daniel. He felt his body go limp and didn't care. The ache in his head receded to a dull throb.

        "Falling asleep on me?" Jack murmured, his breath whispering over Daniel's face.
        "Mmm."
        "Gonna tell me about Gavril before you do?"
        The tension tried to crawl its way back into Daniel's body, but Jack was still 
soothing him, and it just wasn't worth the effort.  The words surged forth on their own.
        "The Others sent him.  Whenever I did something they didn't like, he was the one 
who told me I was wrong.  And when I tried to stop Anubis, he was the one..."  
        His voice wobbled.  Gavril had wrenched Daniel out of the physical plane, a 

severing so painful that it had momentarily crippled Daniel and left Anubis free to destroy Abydos. After Daniel recovered, it had taken five Others, working with Gavril, to restrain Daniel from flinging himself back to the physical. Enraged beyond reason, sobbing with grief and guilt for his lost home, Daniel had wanted nothing more than to grind Anubis into space dust. Instead, the Others bound Daniel and said his actions jeopardized the non-involvement they espoused. Daniel had argued and pleaded and fought. One lone voice against a multitude.

"He's in my dreams," Daniel continued, lulled by Jack's massage. "I still hear his voice telling me I hafta be punished for breaking the laws. I hear him laughing, like he did when the Others hurted me."

        Tears stung his eyes.  He blinked them back, trying to be brave.
        "You know the worst part, Jack?  I liked Gavril.  When Shifu and Oma were busy, 

Gavril would show me stuff. He'd teach me how to do new things and then he'd cheer when I did it right, like I was his kid brother or something. We'd have debates about philosophy and stuff. He 'minded me of you sometimes. We was--we was friends."

Because Daniel did not bestow his trust easily, Gavril's betrayal had hurt even more than the Others' punishment. Gavril had turned on him and become his worst adversary, taunting where he had once praised, condemning what he had once approved. Of all the Others, Gavril was the one who haunted most of Daniel's dreams.

Despite Daniel's best effort, the tears came anyway. Jack gathered Daniel to his chest and said nothing while Daniel cried.

Sometimes, it was very, very hard to be brave.