Fading Memories

By Terri D. Thomas

Part 4

"Oh God," Daniel Jackson moaned. The pressure against his right cheek and chest told him he was lying face down. The pungent smell of garbage told him that he was in a not so pleasant place. He opened one eye hesitantly. A rectangular shaped box filled his vision. Opening the second eye, he squinted, irrationally curious about the identity of the object. His vision finally focused on the thing. Daniel turned up his nose when he realized he was looking at a carton of milk, mold decorating the exterior, partially hiding the label.

'Yep, that would explain the smell,' he thought to himself. He consciously moved the palms of his hands to the ground and pushed. It was only then that he felt the pain in his chest and the pounding in his head.

"What happened?" he groaned as he collapsed back against the ground, the force of the impact causing a slight exhalation of air from his lungs.

Trying to recover from the lost breath, he inhaled deeply and then coughed as the smell of the curdled milk entered his nose. The odor ended up being sufficient motivation to cause Daniel to successfully regain his footing.

He readjusted his glasses, which had slid halfway off his face and then he stumbled away, tripping over other remnants of the garbage pile. It took him only a moment to realize he was in an alley. It was with that discovery that the memories of the past few minutes came rushing back.

There had been the resounding boom of a gunshot. . .Teal'c had been at his side. They had rushed into the alley to find out what had happened.

Sudden fear clinched at Daniel's stomach as he looked up and down the alley, desperately searching for his friend. His eyes saw the still shape of a body, which could barely be seen in the shadows. "Teal'c," Daniel whispered, panic in his voice.

He staggered down the alley until he was standing next to the prone figure, ignoring the pain the movement brought to his head and chest. Kneeling down on the asphalt, dampness penetrating the knees of his slacks, he turned the body towards the minimal light coming from the street lamps at the entrance of the alley.

Relief washed over him as he realized the face did not belong to his friend. Then guilt overtook him as shaky fingers placed against the unknown man's neck told him that the stranger was dead.

He turned the body onto its back and for the first time could see the blood soaking the center of the man's chest. It was then that Daniel made the connection that the wetness he felt in the knees of his pants was from the blood which had been pumped out of the man's dead body and onto the street.

Daniel's time with the SGC had taught him more than he had ever cared to know about guns and the damage bullets could cause. The size of the hole over the man's heart left no doubt that he had been shot at close range. Death had been instantaneous.

Knowing there was nothing he could do to help the dead man, Daniel immediately began to worry about Teal'c. He pushed himself to his feet, his eyes scanning the alley for any signs of his friend. There was nothing. Other than the deceased man lying before him and a mound of garbage littering the street a few feet away, there was nothing else. Teal'c was gone.

The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance. 'Someone called the police,' Daniel reasoned. Although it was clear that 'someone' had no intention of helping or the individual would have been here by now.

Daniel staggered to the opening of the alley. There was still no sign of Teal'c. Daniel debated trying to locate his friend, but a wave of dizziness made him change his mind. Instead, he decided to wait for the police. His legs grew weak and he leaned against the hard wall, allowing his body to slide down until he was sitting on the ground.

The red and blue lights of two police cars began to flash in the darkness and within seconds the vehicles had pulled up in front of the injured man. The doors of the two sedans opened and the occupants cautiously exited their respective cars, hands resting on holstered weapons.

Two uniformed officers approached Daniel while the other two stood back, providing backup. "Did you make the call?" one officer asked.

Daniel frowned in confusion and then shook his head, the pain magnifying with the movement. "No. . .we heard the gunshot in the alley. Tried to help. He's dead," he whispered.

The officer nodded to the two standing by their car. "Bishop, Tony, go check it out." With flashlights in hand, the two men disappeared into the darkness of the alley.

The officer standing in front of Daniel kneeled down, still keeping a hand on his weapon. "Who's 'we'?" he asked, glancing up and down the street.

Daniel looked up at the officer, eyes clearing. "My friend. He's gone. Don't know where."

The man moved his flashlight up to Daniel's face. The young man winced as the beam of light connected with his eyes. He squinted and turned away. As he turned, the officer's light revealed a cut on the side of Daniel's head, blood matting the sandy-brown hair.

"How'd you get that?" the officer asked skeptically.

Daniel's hand raised to the wound, gingerly fingering the damage. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "Fell," he finally answered.

The officer sighed and then stood. He turned to his partner. "Mike, call for an ambulance." At the same time, one of the officers who had investigated the alley returned. "We're going to need the coroner as well," he shouted.

The officer questioning Daniel looked down at the injured man. "I think you need to start at the beginning. What happened here?"

Daniel, head still resting against the wall, shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. My friend and I were walking. We heard the gunshot from the alleyway. There were. . ." Daniel paused as if trying to remember all the details. "There were two men. They were holding another man. . . the man in the alley. . .against the wall. They shot him. . .killed him."

The officer nodded. He took out his notebook and began to jot down some notes. "So how did you end up getting hurt?"

"Tea. . .," he started to say, then stopped. "My friend was able to disarm one of the men. I tried to get the gun away from the other. I was kicked. . .in the chest. . .and fell. I must have had the wind knocked out of me."

"And hit your head?" the officer asked.

"I guess," Daniel answered, wishing he could remember more of the details. He closed his eyes for a moment and then a thought came to him. "My friend asked if I was okay. I told him to go after the men."

"So he pursued the shooters?" the officer concluded, disappointment in his voice.

Daniel nodded. "He must have. . .I don't see him here."

The man sighed and shook his head. "Everybody wants to be a hero." He looked back at the injured man sitting before him. "Do you have any ID on you?"

Daniel nodded and reached into his back pocket, shifting his weight onto his left side. He pulled out his wallet and handed it to the officer. "Daniel Jackson," the man read from Daniel's driver's license. "What do you do, Mr. Jackson?"

"I'm an. . .archeologist."

"With the University?"

"Uh. . .no. With the government," Daniel answered carefully.

"What's your friend's name?"

Daniel hesitated with an answer, debating the consequences. Deciding that he could cover any questions that might arise, he finally stated, "Teal'c."

The man seemed unaffected by the odd name. He simply nodded. "How do you spell that?"

Daniel spelled out the name, at least the nearest approximation he could make with the English language.

Another round of sirens could be heard in the distance. Daniel closed his eyes again and then reopened them. "I need to find my friend."

"Why don't you give me his description and we'll look for him."

Realizing how dangerous it could be for the Jaffa if found by the authorities, Daniel shook his head and pushed himself to shaky feet. "No. . .I need to find him. He's not from. . .," he started to explain. "He's not from this area. He doesn't know the city."

"Look, I'm sorry Mr. Jackson, but I'm going to have to ask that you stay here. You were a witness to a shooting and we're going to need to talk to you some more about what happened."

"But I don't know anything more," Daniel protested. "All I heard was a gunshot. All I saw were two men shoving a third man against the wall. Nothing more. Please, I need to find my friend."

"That's our job. Why don't you give me a description and we'll see what we can come up with."

Resigned to his fate, Daniel sighed and leaned back against the wall. Desperately, he glanced up and down the street, which was now beginning to fill with onlookers. Daniel examined the crowd hoping that he would see Teal'c amongst the spectators. But it was not to be. There was no sign of his large friend.

He felt a warmth fill his body, the source of which he knew was from his Goa'uld larva. A surge of energy ran through him, tingling from the center of his torso and extending to his limbs.

Teal'c opened his eyes only to find blurred darkness surrounding him. Blinking slowly, he forced his eyes to clear. His focus clarified to reveal distant lights above him. Squinting, he could barely make out the stars of the night sky which provided a backdrop.

It was then that he realized he was lying on his back. The ground beneath him was hard and cold.

The only thought which entered his mind was that his position left him prone to attack. With forced strength, he rolled his body over so that he could push himself to his feet. It was then that he felt the stab of pain in his head.

He ignored the sensation until he was successfully standing. Once on his feet, he inspected the head wound with his hand, feeling the blood which marred his forehead and covered his tattoo.

He took a tentative step forward. He could feel the stiffness in his joints, however the pain was of no consequence. Satisfied that his Goa'uld larva had done it's job in repairing the physical damage, Teal'c examined his surroundings.

The lights which broke through the dark revealed nothing which was familiar. He could see buildings nearby, but they did not look like those of the village.

He glanced at the area around him. Immediately next to him were bushes. He could see one had been flattened, obviously crushed under the weight of his body when he had apparently fallen upon it.

Beyond the bushes was a road. Stepping towards it, he became aware that it was not like any roadway he had seen before. This path was not made of stones and dirt, but of something more solid and dense.

Frowning, he sniffed the air. It carried an unfamiliar scent. He glanced to his left and then to his right, assuming he would immediately know his location. Confusion overtook him, however. He thought he knew every detail of his home, but nothing was as it should have been.

He looked up into the night sky. What few stars he could see did nothing more than to mystify him further. No constellation was recognizable.

He closed his eyes and scowled, trying to remember how he had ended up in this mysterious place. Nothing came to him. His frustration mounted. However, his mind was blank. He had no explanation for his current predicament. Any memory he could grasp onto was indistinct and unfocused. Looking around his surroundings again, only one thing was clear to the large Jaffa. He was no longer on Chulak.

End Part 4

To SG-1 Page