Stargate SG1: Suffer the Little Children (4/19)
All disclaimers, notes, warnings and summary are in the Master post: Suffer the Little Children
Chapter Four
The sounds of the birds chirping in the trees had changed. Daniel couldn't explain how he knew that it was a different sound; he only knew that it was. Perhaps there were fewer birds, or perhaps they were different kinds. He also didn't have enough knowledge of birds to determine if there was any significance to the change, though he could say that it almost made him feel like he was in a different park than he had been in the day before.
He'd wanted to come back here one more time, alone, to see if he could remember something he'd forgotten, something that could help the police and the FBI to find the person who'd killed that poor little girl. His mind told him that it was pointless, that all of the evidence had already been removed, but he couldn't ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach - the one that told him that he knew more than he was remembering.
He walked toward the bushes carefully, watching the ground beneath him, making certain not to step on anything important. It struck him as slightly odd that there was no yellow crime scene tape strung around the bushes, but he shrugged and continued walking. If the police had decided that they were done with evidence collection at the park, then who was he to tell them that they weren't?
"They've taken their evidence," he said to himself as he reached out with his hand. "There's nothing here any more." His hand stopped in mid-air and his breath hitched in his chest. The last time he'd done this, he'd found a beautiful little girl lying pale and stiff on the muddy ground, her throat cut from ear to ear and her blood pooling in the dirt around her.
He knew she wouldn't be there any more; he had a vague recollection of having watched the coroner take her body away. It was perfectly safe for him to pull that branch aside and look in to the bush.
"Olly olly oxen free!"
He spun his head toward the voice, his hand still suspended above the bush.
The blonde haired girl was looking for the little boy again, calling out his victory to him, telling him that it was time to come out.
Daniel could see the little boy, who he knew with a strange certainty was the girl's brother, still hiding behind the trees at the top of the hill. The little boy was laughing, his eyes shining behind his glasses, at all the fun he was having making his sister keep looking for him. Daniel couldn't help but smile at the happy - and somehow very familiar - scene.
Then he saw the shadow creeping up behind the little boy.
Daniel could remember being here before. He didn't know how, but he knew it - knew that neither yelling nor running would do any good. He wouldn't be able to move; he wouldn't be able to scream. He started thinking that perhaps he could get there in time, if he moved slowly and carefully. He pulled his hand back from the bush and had almost stepped away when he heard the voice behind him.
"Daniel ..."
Daniel stopped and spun, looking for the person the voice belonged to. It was the voice of a girl, a young one, but he couldn't see anyone behind him.
"Olly olly oxen free!"
Daniel turned back toward the girl on the hill. She was growing frantic, her voice tense and her hands cupped around her mouth as she yelled. And the little boy laughed harder, completely ignorant of the danger right behind him.
Daniel tried once more to step away from the bush, wanting to warn the little boy about the shadow, when he heard the voice behind him again.
"Daniel ... Don't let him find me, Daniel ..."
Daniel shook his head in confusion and spun back around. He knew that voice coming from the bushes, knew it just as surely as he knew his own. What was she doing here, in this park, so far from her house, and all by herself? Ignoring the frantic beating of his own heart, he grasped the branches tightly with both hands and pulled them apart.
That same heart stopped when he saw her.
"Cassie," he gasped, horrified. "God, no, Cassie!"
Daniel looked around frantically for Janet, for Jack, for anyone who could help, but there was no one there. There were only the two children playing hide-and-seek on the hill and the shadow. Daniel fell to his knees in the bushes at Cassie's side, praying that someone would find them in time. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the shadow move, saw it lunge forward, saw it pounce on the little boy behind the trees.
And the strong arms were wrapped around him again, pulling him to his feet, pinning his own arms to his sides and keeping him from crying out for help. The arm around his chest squeezed so tightly that Daniel feared that his ribs would break, and the hand across his mouth was so large that it covered both his mouth and nose, leaving him desperate for air. Daniel struggled as hard as he could, trying to get away, trying to run, trying to scream.
The whisper in his ear froze his blood and his body with it.
"Beautiful children, Daniel," the evil voice said. "I love beautiful children."
Daniel's eyes widened in panic and he started struggling again. The evil voice in his ear just laughed, and the shadow arms grew impossibly tighter around him. His lungs screamed for oxygen that he couldn't give them, his ribs felt as though they'd snap in the next second, and his heart pounded so hard that he felt it beating against the inside of his chest. Frantic to escape, Daniel forced himself to concentrate on the best way to make the shadow release him. It didn't take him long to figure out what to do.
Daniel opened his mouth, leaned forward as far as he could, and sank his teeth into the hand that wrapped around his face.
Daniel heard a strong and familiar voice mutter, "Damn it, Daniel!" Then the shadow pressed its hands against his back and shoved him forward, and he was falling, rolling, head-over-heels, down the side of the hill.
Daniel opened his eyes to find himself lying on the floor of the VIP room he'd been assigned, sprawled none-too-gracefully on his stomach beside the bed, and a highly irritated Jack O'Neill standing over him, holding his arm. He blinked quickly and pushed himself up to his knees, then looked up at Jack in confusion.
"Um ... what happened?"
Jack looked down at him through eyes slightly narrowed in more than mild annoyance. "Are you awake now?"
Daniel glanced around the room quickly, as if to assure himself that everything was where it belonged, and then shifted his position until he was sitting on the floor. He leaned back against the side of the bed and pulled his knees up, then looked up at Jack and nodded.
"Good," Jack said, fighting to keep his voice as friendly and non-threatening as possible. "Would you care to tell me why you bit me?"
Daniel's eyes widened in surprise. "Bit you?"
Jack nodded. "Yes, Daniel, bit me. As in your teeth went into my arm." He moved the hand he'd been covering the inside of his left arm with, and held it out for Daniel's inspection. The wound was minor but obvious - two very clear half circles composed of several small lines, already beginning to swell and discolor to a painful-looking purple.
Daniel opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He simply sat there, staring at Jack's arm mutely.
Jack pulled his arm back and covered the bite with his hand again. "Daniel?"
Daniel blinked and shook his head quickly, snapping himself out of his trance. "I ... I did that?"
Jack nodded again. "Yeah, you did."
"Why?"
Jack shook his head this time, and he felt his anger giving way to concern. "That's what I just asked you."
"No, I mean ..." Daniel stared down at his hands, which were fidgeting nervously against his knees. "What was I ...?"
"Dreaming," Jack said. "You were having a nightmare."
"Another one?" Jack hadn't thought it was possible for Daniel's eyes to get any wider, but they did.
Jack nodded once more. "You really must have hit your head pretty hard," he said. "I mean, I know you've had quite a few of them since ..." Jack let the sentence trail off; he saw no need to remind Daniel of the hell of sarcophagus withdrawal yet again. They both had more than enough memories of that time to keep them awake all night as it was. "But it just seems like, you know, two in twenty-four hours?"
Daniel bit his lip and stared straight ahead, his eyes focussed on the wall, apparently lost in concentration. Jack took a deep breath, moved to the bed, and sat down on it. He leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees, and looked down at Daniel on the floor.
"Do you remember what it was about?"
Daniel shook his head slowly. "I have no idea," he answered. He closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly, obviously digging in his memory for some clue as to the elusive nightmare. Coming up completely empty, he shook his head quickly. "Must have been pretty bad, though, huh?"
Jack rubbed his hands back and forth, and he, too, turned to stare at the wall. "When I came in, you were thrashing around on the bed and screaming. I was kind of worried that you were going to fall off and hurt yourself, so I ..."
"You tried to hold me still," Daniel finished for him.
Jack nodded.
"And I bit you."
"Yep."
"And I don't remember any of it."
Jack shrugged and not having an answer for that, didn't even try to give one.
Daniel sighed and leaned his head back against the bed, turning his eyes to look up at Jack beside him. "That can't be good, can it?"
Jack forced himself to smile down at Daniel. "Hey, you hit your head, right? Doc said that's probably what caused the one in the infirmary. Actually, she said that you've got a concussion, and that's what's causing everything." Jack kept the full extent of Janet's statement, especially the part about the head injury alone apparently not being sufficient cause for all of Daniel's troubles, to himself. "You'll be fine in a few days."
Daniel gave Jack a half-hearted smile and dropped his head to his chest. "Oh, that's just great."
Jack tapped Daniel on the arm lightly before standing. "Come on," he said, tilting his head toward the door. "Let's go."
"Go where?"
"Police station," Jack answered, holding his good arm out to Daniel to help him to his feet. "We have to go give that FBI guy our statements about yesterday. Remember?"
"Oh, yeah," Daniel said in understanding. "Agent Michael Phillips."
"That's the guy," Jack said as he turned toward the door. "He's waiting for us, I guess, though I don't know why. We can't tell him anything more than Carter and Teal'c already did."
Daniel nodded wordlessly and followed Jack out into the corridor. He could hear Jack talking, saying something about FBI agents and tape recorders, but he wasn't really listening. Ever since he'd said the name out loud, he'd been repeating it over and over to himself in his head.
Agent Michael Phillips.
Why did that name seem so familiar?
Chapter Four
The sounds of the birds chirping in the trees had changed. Daniel couldn't explain how he knew that it was a different sound; he only knew that it was. Perhaps there were fewer birds, or perhaps they were different kinds. He also didn't have enough knowledge of birds to determine if there was any significance to the change, though he could say that it almost made him feel like he was in a different park than he had been in the day before.
He'd wanted to come back here one more time, alone, to see if he could remember something he'd forgotten, something that could help the police and the FBI to find the person who'd killed that poor little girl. His mind told him that it was pointless, that all of the evidence had already been removed, but he couldn't ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach - the one that told him that he knew more than he was remembering.
He walked toward the bushes carefully, watching the ground beneath him, making certain not to step on anything important. It struck him as slightly odd that there was no yellow crime scene tape strung around the bushes, but he shrugged and continued walking. If the police had decided that they were done with evidence collection at the park, then who was he to tell them that they weren't?
"They've taken their evidence," he said to himself as he reached out with his hand. "There's nothing here any more." His hand stopped in mid-air and his breath hitched in his chest. The last time he'd done this, he'd found a beautiful little girl lying pale and stiff on the muddy ground, her throat cut from ear to ear and her blood pooling in the dirt around her.
He knew she wouldn't be there any more; he had a vague recollection of having watched the coroner take her body away. It was perfectly safe for him to pull that branch aside and look in to the bush.
"Olly olly oxen free!"
He spun his head toward the voice, his hand still suspended above the bush.
The blonde haired girl was looking for the little boy again, calling out his victory to him, telling him that it was time to come out.
Daniel could see the little boy, who he knew with a strange certainty was the girl's brother, still hiding behind the trees at the top of the hill. The little boy was laughing, his eyes shining behind his glasses, at all the fun he was having making his sister keep looking for him. Daniel couldn't help but smile at the happy - and somehow very familiar - scene.
Then he saw the shadow creeping up behind the little boy.
Daniel could remember being here before. He didn't know how, but he knew it - knew that neither yelling nor running would do any good. He wouldn't be able to move; he wouldn't be able to scream. He started thinking that perhaps he could get there in time, if he moved slowly and carefully. He pulled his hand back from the bush and had almost stepped away when he heard the voice behind him.
"Daniel ..."
Daniel stopped and spun, looking for the person the voice belonged to. It was the voice of a girl, a young one, but he couldn't see anyone behind him.
"Olly olly oxen free!"
Daniel turned back toward the girl on the hill. She was growing frantic, her voice tense and her hands cupped around her mouth as she yelled. And the little boy laughed harder, completely ignorant of the danger right behind him.
Daniel tried once more to step away from the bush, wanting to warn the little boy about the shadow, when he heard the voice behind him again.
"Daniel ... Don't let him find me, Daniel ..."
Daniel shook his head in confusion and spun back around. He knew that voice coming from the bushes, knew it just as surely as he knew his own. What was she doing here, in this park, so far from her house, and all by herself? Ignoring the frantic beating of his own heart, he grasped the branches tightly with both hands and pulled them apart.
That same heart stopped when he saw her.
"Cassie," he gasped, horrified. "God, no, Cassie!"
Daniel looked around frantically for Janet, for Jack, for anyone who could help, but there was no one there. There were only the two children playing hide-and-seek on the hill and the shadow. Daniel fell to his knees in the bushes at Cassie's side, praying that someone would find them in time. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the shadow move, saw it lunge forward, saw it pounce on the little boy behind the trees.
And the strong arms were wrapped around him again, pulling him to his feet, pinning his own arms to his sides and keeping him from crying out for help. The arm around his chest squeezed so tightly that Daniel feared that his ribs would break, and the hand across his mouth was so large that it covered both his mouth and nose, leaving him desperate for air. Daniel struggled as hard as he could, trying to get away, trying to run, trying to scream.
The whisper in his ear froze his blood and his body with it.
"Beautiful children, Daniel," the evil voice said. "I love beautiful children."
Daniel's eyes widened in panic and he started struggling again. The evil voice in his ear just laughed, and the shadow arms grew impossibly tighter around him. His lungs screamed for oxygen that he couldn't give them, his ribs felt as though they'd snap in the next second, and his heart pounded so hard that he felt it beating against the inside of his chest. Frantic to escape, Daniel forced himself to concentrate on the best way to make the shadow release him. It didn't take him long to figure out what to do.
Daniel opened his mouth, leaned forward as far as he could, and sank his teeth into the hand that wrapped around his face.
Daniel heard a strong and familiar voice mutter, "Damn it, Daniel!" Then the shadow pressed its hands against his back and shoved him forward, and he was falling, rolling, head-over-heels, down the side of the hill.
Daniel opened his eyes to find himself lying on the floor of the VIP room he'd been assigned, sprawled none-too-gracefully on his stomach beside the bed, and a highly irritated Jack O'Neill standing over him, holding his arm. He blinked quickly and pushed himself up to his knees, then looked up at Jack in confusion.
"Um ... what happened?"
Jack looked down at him through eyes slightly narrowed in more than mild annoyance. "Are you awake now?"
Daniel glanced around the room quickly, as if to assure himself that everything was where it belonged, and then shifted his position until he was sitting on the floor. He leaned back against the side of the bed and pulled his knees up, then looked up at Jack and nodded.
"Good," Jack said, fighting to keep his voice as friendly and non-threatening as possible. "Would you care to tell me why you bit me?"
Daniel's eyes widened in surprise. "Bit you?"
Jack nodded. "Yes, Daniel, bit me. As in your teeth went into my arm." He moved the hand he'd been covering the inside of his left arm with, and held it out for Daniel's inspection. The wound was minor but obvious - two very clear half circles composed of several small lines, already beginning to swell and discolor to a painful-looking purple.
Daniel opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He simply sat there, staring at Jack's arm mutely.
Jack pulled his arm back and covered the bite with his hand again. "Daniel?"
Daniel blinked and shook his head quickly, snapping himself out of his trance. "I ... I did that?"
Jack nodded again. "Yeah, you did."
"Why?"
Jack shook his head this time, and he felt his anger giving way to concern. "That's what I just asked you."
"No, I mean ..." Daniel stared down at his hands, which were fidgeting nervously against his knees. "What was I ...?"
"Dreaming," Jack said. "You were having a nightmare."
"Another one?" Jack hadn't thought it was possible for Daniel's eyes to get any wider, but they did.
Jack nodded once more. "You really must have hit your head pretty hard," he said. "I mean, I know you've had quite a few of them since ..." Jack let the sentence trail off; he saw no need to remind Daniel of the hell of sarcophagus withdrawal yet again. They both had more than enough memories of that time to keep them awake all night as it was. "But it just seems like, you know, two in twenty-four hours?"
Daniel bit his lip and stared straight ahead, his eyes focussed on the wall, apparently lost in concentration. Jack took a deep breath, moved to the bed, and sat down on it. He leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees, and looked down at Daniel on the floor.
"Do you remember what it was about?"
Daniel shook his head slowly. "I have no idea," he answered. He closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly, obviously digging in his memory for some clue as to the elusive nightmare. Coming up completely empty, he shook his head quickly. "Must have been pretty bad, though, huh?"
Jack rubbed his hands back and forth, and he, too, turned to stare at the wall. "When I came in, you were thrashing around on the bed and screaming. I was kind of worried that you were going to fall off and hurt yourself, so I ..."
"You tried to hold me still," Daniel finished for him.
Jack nodded.
"And I bit you."
"Yep."
"And I don't remember any of it."
Jack shrugged and not having an answer for that, didn't even try to give one.
Daniel sighed and leaned his head back against the bed, turning his eyes to look up at Jack beside him. "That can't be good, can it?"
Jack forced himself to smile down at Daniel. "Hey, you hit your head, right? Doc said that's probably what caused the one in the infirmary. Actually, she said that you've got a concussion, and that's what's causing everything." Jack kept the full extent of Janet's statement, especially the part about the head injury alone apparently not being sufficient cause for all of Daniel's troubles, to himself. "You'll be fine in a few days."
Daniel gave Jack a half-hearted smile and dropped his head to his chest. "Oh, that's just great."
Jack tapped Daniel on the arm lightly before standing. "Come on," he said, tilting his head toward the door. "Let's go."
"Go where?"
"Police station," Jack answered, holding his good arm out to Daniel to help him to his feet. "We have to go give that FBI guy our statements about yesterday. Remember?"
"Oh, yeah," Daniel said in understanding. "Agent Michael Phillips."
"That's the guy," Jack said as he turned toward the door. "He's waiting for us, I guess, though I don't know why. We can't tell him anything more than Carter and Teal'c already did."
Daniel nodded wordlessly and followed Jack out into the corridor. He could hear Jack talking, saying something about FBI agents and tape recorders, but he wasn't really listening. Ever since he'd said the name out loud, he'd been repeating it over and over to himself in his head.
Agent Michael Phillips.
Why did that name seem so familiar?