If he'd been the jealous type, O'Neill decided, he'd be dragging Daniel out of the library right about now.

He'd returned from the hunt, pleased to have found something where his skills could be put to use now that the last of the jaffa had left the planet, only to discover their rooms were dark and empty. And seriously lacking in the presence of Daniel, who had promised him faithfully he would be there for the evening meal.

He lifted the lid on the covered pot by the fire, sniffing appreciatively at the smell of cooking. Kasuf had insisted that the tribe feed them, and when Daniel hadn't argued there was no way O'Neill could feel like refusing. It was hardly likely Daniel would ever become that domesticated, even if O'Neill wanted him to.

Once he'd discovered that Ra had been hoarding records, written testament to the history of their people that nobody knew existed, it had been all O'Neill could do to persuade him to eat and sleep on a regular basis. Little else happened between them, O'Neill reminded himself with a sigh, as he located a bowl.

He was trying his hardest not to take it personally, seeing no evidence that Daniel's affections had cooled towards him, at least not in comparison to the looks he received from Kasuf's people on a regular basis. He was an oddity now, a thing out of place as he'd feared would be the case once Ra was overthrown, and he couldn't help wondering if he'd made the right decision.

Should he have left with the other jaffa? Took his chances that he wouldn't be slaughtered out of hand by the system lords when they caught up with him? There was always the possibility that he had chosen wrongly, allowed his feelings for Daniel to blind him to the realities of what his life would be like once the Goa'uld no longer ruled here.

Kasuf was the same as ever towards him, and he had made efforts to aid in the reconciliation of Skaara to his people, taking the lad under his wing and going hunting with him when everyone else would have nothing to do with him. This ensured his acceptance by Kasuf, if his relationship with Daniel had not already done so. Skaara had been resentful at first, still bridling against the way Daniel was treated, the exceptions that were made for him to strain his eyes studying the words of the past.

At least his experience of hunting meat for the inhabitants of Ra's palace had come in useful, giving O'Neill something to do in order to pass the time.

Not that time was something he had a great deal of, he reminded himself, as he spooned stew into his mouth. Soon his symbiote would mature, taking him over for the lack of any other host, and he would become the thing he had come to hate the most. The thing Daniel hated, even though their occasional love-making showed no evidence that he had anything but fascination with the things that made O'Neill a jaffa.

He could feel the touch of Daniel's fingers on his pouch even now, the feather touches that helped send him over the edge faster than he'd like to admit.

Damn it, where was he?

A sound by the doorway. O'Neill's head snapped round, all the old instincts kicking in. It was Daniel, of course, looking almost uncertain as he pushed the curtain away to allow himself access.

"I'm late," he said. No apologies, no excuses, and O'Neill expected none. "That smells good."

O'Neill smiled to himself, taking in with a glance the lines of fatigue on Daniel's face, the darkness beneath his eyes.

"Here," he said, a rush of protectiveness coming over him. "Sit down." He pushed the bowl of food into Daniel's hand, feeling the chill in his skin. "Your skin is like ice."

"It was later than I thought," Daniel said, between mouthfuls of stew. "Those records..." He paused. "I never knew so much had been written of our past, I'd thought it was all destroyed."

O'Neill found another bowl, helped himself to some more stew, then sat beside Daniel.

"The goa'uld don't destroy things they might be able to use," he said. He saw Daniel nod at this, his mind still working furiously even as he ate. "Eat now," he chided. "Plenty of time for talk afterwards."

They ate in silence, Daniel getting up from his seat and helping himself to more, before both of them admitted defeat. O'Neill took the bowl from Daniel, placing everything by the doorway. By the time he turned from his task, Daniel was already sitting on their pallet, one hand tiredly running through his hair.

"You need to get some fresh air tomorrow, Daniel," he said, shrugging off his outer tunic and dropping it on a nearby chair. Daniel nodded, without answering him, a sure sign he was past tired and on his way to exhausted.

He hated this. Hated seeing Daniel push himself this way, for something he could barely see the value of. The goa'uld were hoarders, scavengers, looking to use whatever they came across, but what of use could be buried in age-old records?

"Lie down," he said, his worries for Daniel's wellbeing coming out in a gruff tone. Daniel looked at him, a puzzled frown on his face.

"This is important," he said, even as he did as he was bid, swinging his feet up onto the pallet. His eyes were already closed before his head hit the pillow.

O'Neill sighed, then laid down alongside, one arm coming over to rest across Daniel, pulling the former slave close to his body.

"Important enough to kill yourself for?" he asked, his breath whispering into the hair at the nape of Daniel's neck. O'Neill felt a responsive shudder run through Daniel, even as he tightened his embrace a little. "Sleep now."

He felt Daniel's quiet laugh even as he heard it, the vibrations coming through their closeness.

"You want me to sleep now?" he muttered.

Daniel took hold of O'Neill's hand and moved it downwards, allowing him to feel the arousal that breath had helped cause. Even as he did so, Daniel moved a little, brushing against O'Neill's groin, against the evidence that this was not a one-sided matter.

"Maybe not yet," O'Neill conceded, even as Daniel turned within his embrace and stifled any further words.

He knew O'Neill didn't understand and he had no intention of explaining it. Not yet, at least, not until he was certain. At least the jaffa didn't question him, didn't try to get an explanation of what exactly was so fascinating about the records Ra had hoarded - he wasn't sure how coherent he would be on the subject.

At first it had seemed like a myth, a tale told by jaffa around the campfire on long campaigns, but as time had passed Daniel had gathered more information. More evidence that this myth had substance to it, a reality to it that the other myths he'd come across lacked. Still it wasn't enough to get O'Neill's hopes up - he couldn't bear the thought of his disappointment if it came to nothing.

Though the jaffa didn't speak of it, Daniel knew he was restless. At least his aptitude for hunting game meant he had some outlet, some way he could contribute to the people of this planet. He hadn't missed the looks some gave him, the looks Daniel too was subject to because of his association with O'Neill, but after dealing with Maybourne and the goa'uld he was hardly likely to let a few glares get to him.

Tonight, he told himself, as he left the pallet he shared with O'Neill. Tonight I'll tell him everything and hope that he believes me.

When he woke, he was alone, which was hardly unexpected. O'Neill remembered half-waking when Daniel rose, then had rolled over and returned to sleep. He was washing when Daniel returned unexpectedly, excited, his words almost falling over themselves.

"I've found it," he said, brandishing a parchment in O'Neill's direction.

"What?" O'Neill busied himself with drying his face; he used the towel to hide his smile at Daniel's fervour.

"How long till your symbiote matures?" Daniel asked, sitting down suddenly and fixing him with an implacable stare. "I know it's soon."

The room suddenly felt cold, despite the fire that blazed in the hearth.

"Three months," O'Neill said. "Four at most." He'd tried not to think about it, the concept lurking at the back of his mind like a malevolent shadow. Daniel nodded. "I'll leave before then."

That was the only answer. There was no way he could survive without the symbiote - O'Neill had witnessed the deaths of jaffa whose symbiotes had been removed and had no desire to share their lengthy and painful fate. The alternatives were few and unwelcome. Allow the mature symbiote to take him as a host, thus becoming the thing he hated, or suicide. He wasn't sure which option he liked least, and all of them involved leaving Daniel and the happiness they'd found together in such unlikely circumstances.

"That was your plan, was it?" Daniel asked. "And what did you think would happen to me?"

"You have a home here. People who care for you."

Daniel snorted.

"If I wanted all of that I'd have married Sha're when she asked," he said. "Or any one of the others." He looked down at the parchment he still held. "I hope this works," Daniel continued. "For both our sakes."

"So," O'Neill said, as he sat on the pallet once more, facing Daniel. "Tell me what you've found."

He tried to concentrate, using that as a way of driving back the emotions that otherwise threatened to overwhelm him.

"A way out," Daniel said. "I hope."

"A way to remove the symbiote?" O'Neill laughed. "I wish that were true." The expression on Daniel's face tore at him, making him regret the levity with which he'd treated this 'discovery'. "But go on," he said. "Tell me what you've found."

"Have you ever heard of a place called Kheb?"

He'd known O'Neill was worried about the prospect of his symbiote maturing, and rightly so, but the bitter laughter that followed his question had been unexpected.

"Kheb is a legend among the jaffa," O'Neill said. "A tale told to frighten the young, nothing more."

"You'd better hope there's more to it than that," Daniel replied.

O'Neill was silent for a moment, his face as closed as when they had first met, as difficult to read.

"I don't dare hope," he said. "Kheb is a place of death for the jaffa."

"What have you got to lose?" He couldn't believe this. This resignation, blind acceptance by O'Neill of the fate that lay in store for him. "You're dead either way, aren't you?" It was a low blow, but Daniel had to do something.

He saw the anger blaze in O'Neill's face for a moment, reminding him of who this man had once been, what he had seen and done.

"You think this place holds some kind of answer for me?" he asked, quietly.

"What other choice do we have?"

That was the question, wasn't it? There were few options left for O'Neill, and Daniel considered their fates tied together regardless of anything the jaffa might say. O'Neill wanted to try and dissuade Daniel from this path, that much was clear from his expression, but he didn't have the words. Somehow Daniel doubted anyone did.

"We'll leave tomorrow," O'Neill said.

He managed to hide the trepidation he felt, despite the way he'd dismissed stories of Kheb as the tales of frightened children. O'Neill didn't think he'd done a very good job, if the way Daniel had wrapped himself around him was anything to go by - the former slave was perceptive, picking up clues about O'Neill's moods that he wasn't aware he was giving out. Not that he was complaining about the closeness or the level of care for his wellbeing that it indicated.

They'd taken their leave of Kasuf, explaining that they needed to take a journey but not telling him where. How could they explain it anyway? That they were travelling in search of a myth, in search of a cure for O'Neill's slavery to the symbiote - it would make no sense to anyone.

So why was he doing this? O'Neill found himself at the chappa'ai, watching Daniel as his hands traced the symbols from the parchment he held and located them on the device that stood before it.

"Ready?" Daniel said. O'Neill nodded, then watched as Daniel activated the device, each touch making the chappa'ai respond until all of the lights glowed and the gateway formed.

It had been many months since he'd last stepped through into the unknown, but at least he had that experience to fall back on. Daniel did not, and now he looked uncertain, wary of the power his actions had unleashed.

"There is nothing to be afraid of, Daniel," O'Neill said, taking hold of Daniel's sleeve and drawing him with him to the steps of the chappa'ai. "See?"

O'Neill took hold of Daniel's wrist, manipulating his hand till the palm was at right angles to the ground, then pushed him slowly until it touched the surface of the gateway. This was how he'd been introduced to the power of the chappa'ai, when he himself had been a young jaffa, ready to take his first journey wherever he was bid to go.

He watched Daniel's face as his hand sank into the energy of the gateway, pleased to see that expression of awe and wonder return - the hours of study and research had drained him of that, but the chance of exploration was swiftly encouraging its return.

"I'm ready." Daniel's voice was resolute, his face determined. O'Neill smiled, tightened his grip on Daniel's wrist and stepped forward.

The world spun a little when he found himself on the other side of the gateway, their boots crunching on the gravel in which the chappa'ai was emebedded. The cool mountain air of their destination a distinct change from the desert they had just left. Kheb was just as it had been described to him, long ago, an untouched wilderness with great mountains. The chappa'ai was located in a valley, with no other signs of civilisation than it and the device which activated it - a path led off through the long grass into the woods beyond.

"We're truly on another world?" Daniel blurted out, laughing. "This is Kheb?"

"It is." O'Neill scanned their surroundings but could see no sign that anyone had been there in recent times. "There must be more here than the chappa'ai."

"There is," Daniel said, pulling the parchment from his robes and consulting it for a moment. "There's a temple, in a valley northwards from here."

They set a steady pace, more to give Daniel a chance to accustom himself to the unfamiliar boots he was wearing than anything else. As they passed along a small stream, O'Neill scanned the mud alongside but could see no footprints other than those of animals using it as their watering hole. Perhaps the rumours of Kheb and its deadliness for jaffa was indeed working in their favour.

"Is that it?" Daniel asked, as they passed through a small stand of trees and found themselves on an escarpment. In the distance, at the foot of even higher mountains and surrounded by forest, they could see a temple, grey buildings glinting in the late morning sun.

It was early afternoon by the time they reached the temple, having paused briefly for food before heading out along a well-marked path which could have only one destination. Still there was no sign of any other inhabitants, the only sounds in the forest the cawing of distant birds, or the occasional rustle of undergrowth as some small creature passed by.

"Does that remind you of anything?" Daniel asked, as they reached the gateway into the temple complex. The entrance was rounded, made of the same grey stone as the buildings themselves and the pathway through it - if anything, it resembled the chappa'ai they had used to come to this very planet.

Inside, the roofs of the temple sloped downwards to the courtyard, shining red beams between dull black tiles, the lush greenness of the plants much brighter than those of the forest they'd just left. There was a peacefulness to the place, O'Neill decided.

"What now?" he asked, as Daniel began to take off his boots.

"There's something about this place," Daniel said. "Can't you feel it?" He dropped the other boot alongside his companion, flexing his toes on the cool grey stone. "Let's see if anyone's here."

O'Neill found himself following Daniel to one of the doorways leading out of the courtyard, lacquered red like the beams on the roof, with plain brass handles. Inside, it was little darker, cream walls emblazoned with arcane markings reflecting the light of myriad candles. The room was a strange shape, that shape echoed by the many- sided bed of black sand that lay at its centre, more candles burning on its surface.

He was about to speak to Daniel, make some comment about this place being empty, when he sensed a movement beside him. Turning, O'Neill found they were no longer alone.

He hadn't seen the newcomer arrive, though his garb marked him out as some kind of monk, his old-young face calm and composed.

"Do you seek oneness with Desala?"

O'Neill glanced across at Daniel, who frowned. Clearly this was a puzzle to him as well.

"Desala?"

"Desala is everything, everywhere," the monk continued.

"We hoped you could help us," Daniel said, suddenly. The monk didn't seem to have heard him, crossing to the centre of the sand bed and taking up a pose which was intimately familiar to O'Neill from his years of kel no reem. Daniel followed him, as did O'Neill, watching the monk's placid face intently.

"Your journey is only begun." The monk spoke without opening his eyes.

There was silence then. O'Neill saw that Daniel was thinking - he recognised that expression, it always meant he was giving something deep consideration. When he looked back at the monk, he was surprised to see he was being watched.

"Within you is a being whose heart knows only darkness," the monk said. "You must renounce such evil to achieve oneness with Oma Desala. One cannot carry darkness on the great path."

It was what he wanted, why he had come here, but suddenly O'Neill was more afraid than he could ever remember feeling. It was one thing to think of the possibility of the symbiote maturing and taking him over, or of taking his own life to prevent that from happening, but to actually remove the symbiote of his own free will...

"If I remove the symbiote within me, I'll die." He didn't need to look at Daniel to know what expression he'd see on his face. The monk held all his attention, the mirrored compassion in his dark eyes almost mesmerising.

"You cannot start the journey with it inside you." The tone was of one explaining something simple to a child.

"We came here looking for help," Daniel said. "Can you help us?"

"You do not have the same evil within you." The monk had turned his attention to Daniel now, and O'Neill's only feeling was relief. Those eyes had held knowledge of him, knowledge of everything he'd done in the service of Ra - he had the feeling he'd been judged and found wanting.

"No, no I don't." Daniel looked at O'Neill then. He knew he could see the resignation on his face, the momentary lack of hope. "But where he goes, I go."

"It's no good," O'Neill said, getting up from where he had been sitting. "We tried, but it's hopeless."

Without looking back, he left the room, leaving Daniel and the monk alone.

"Is it hopeless?" Daniel asked. "I have to know."

The monk said nothing, closing his eyes with an enigmatic expression on his face.

He wanted to follow O'Neill, offer him what comfort he could, but how could he find the words? He'd allowed himself to hope, allowed O'Neill the unexpected luxury of a future free of the symbiote he carried, and it had all crumbled into dust in his hands.

Would it have been kinder to allow him to leave? The thought of it chilled him, a cold weight in the pit of his stomach - if the jaffa had left he would have taken Daniel's soul with him as well, that went without saying.

Daniel closed his eyes, mimicking the monk, desperately in search of the peace he clearly had found. O'Neill's hasty exit had left the door ajar, and as Daniel tried to slow his breathing he could hear the wind picking up, though he didn't recall seeing any sign of storm clouds approaching.

"Daniel?" O'Neill's voice came from outside. "Daniel?" Closer, this time, at the doorway. Daniel opened his eyes and found himself alone, O'Neill standing almost hesitantly by the entrance.

"Here," he said, getting up from where he had been sitting. As he brushed the sand from his robes, Daniel looked towards where his silent companion had been - the sand was undisturbed, in comparison to the clear indentations his own body had left.

"We should go," O'Neill said. "There's nothing for us here."

He couldn't find words to disagree with him - the mysterious appearances and disappearances of the monk were nothing compared to the disappointment they'd found.

He didn't want to go back inside, didn't want to see the expression on the monk's face, but when Daniel didn't respond immediately O'Neill had no choice. There were storm clouds now, on the horizon and heading in their direction, which argued that they should head back towards the chappa'ai - for all he knew this was the start of their rainy season and if they didn't leave now they could find themselves trapped.

He had to admit he was disappointed Daniel's theory had come to nothing, but he couldn't allow that disappointment to put their lives at risk.

The sky was perceptibly darker by the time they emerged into the courtyard once more. He waited, impatiently, as Daniel put his boots back on, wanting nothing more than to leave this place and all it represented. Daniel was silent, for once, and for that O'Neill was glad - he didn't want comfort, or assurances that everything would be fine. He knew those for the lies they were.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move and whirled towards it, only to see the reflection of something in a pool of water.

"Let's go," he said, reaching out and pulling Daniel to his feet.

"O'Neill," Daniel said, his gaze directed towards the gateway. O'Neill followed his eyes, his grip on Daniel's hand tightening a little as he took in the sight of the monk standing there.

"We're leaving," O'Neill said, taking a step towards the entrance and pulling Daniel along behind him. The monk smiled. "You're not going to stop us." They were almost there, only a few short feet separating them from where the monk stood. He was hardly an obstacle, but there was something about him.

"O'Neill," Daniel said. "I think we should..."

Whatever it was that Daniel was about to suggest went unheard - the monk raised his hand, a stream of white light emanating from it. It was different from the goa'uld weapons O'Neill had seen, they sent out a blaze of power like a staff weapon, directly from one place to another. This seemed almost alive, winding its way sinuously between them, swirling around his body even as he dropped Daniel's hand and half-turned to tell him to run.

Then it was inside him, turning him inside out, before he pitched headfirst into blackness.

It all happened in the space of a heartbeat. By the time he had realised what was happening, O'Neill had let go of his hand and crumpled to the ground, the tendrils of light still snaking around and over and through his body.

The monk just stood there, watching it all with the same calm expression on his face.

"What did you do?" Daniel asked, torn between wanting to help O'Neill and fear that whatever it was would kill them both. It was no good, he had to do something.

"One cannot carry darkness on the great path," the monk repeated, even as Daniel tried to drag O'Neill away from whatever it was that was attacking him. He felt the light pass through him, stiffening a little as it did so, but it seemed not to cause him any harm.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the light gathered itself and was gone, shooting away across the courtyard and through one of the walls. The monk too was gone, Daniel discovered when he looked up.

Beneath his hands, O'Neill took a shuddering breath, then another, before rolling onto his back and dragging in a few more gasping breaths. Daniel's breath caught in his throat. The mark on O'Neill's forehead, the symbol of his servitude to Ra, was gone. Could that possibly mean...

He scrabbled at O'Neill's robes, hands shaking a little as he exposed the jaffa's stomach, only to see it unmarred. No sign of a pouch, no indication that one had ever been there.

"Am I dead?" O'Neill asked, his eyes still closed.

"No," Daniel said, straightening the jaffa's robes once more. "I think you're very much alive."

He hadn't believed it. How could he have been expected to believe such a story? He wasn't even sure Daniel had believed it either, though he said he had known it all along.

In the end, they had stayed in the courtyard overnight, giving him a chance to gather his strength before heading back to the chappa'ai. Neither he or Daniel had wanted to face the monk again, almost afraid of what he might do next, and he had yet to become accustomed to his new-found freedom. O'Neill found his hand straying to his forehead often, feeling the smoothness there that was unfamiliar since he was almost a boy.

"What do we do now?" Daniel asked, as they headed back through the forest.

"You don't want to go back?"

He'd never considered the possibility that Daniel wouldn't want to return to his home - if anything he'd been humouring the former slave, going along with this flaky idea of his because it was what he wanted and because O'Neill had hardly had anything better to do with his time.

"I don't know," Daniel said, as they paused by the river to drink. "I hadn't thought this far ahead." He paused, as if uncertain about his next words. "I was more worried about what was happening with you than anything."

O'Neill found himself smiling, not bothering to hide his pleasure at the concern Daniel had shown.

"So you do want to go back?"

Daniel took another mouthful of water, as if giving the matter some thought.

"There are a lot of things still to be done," he said. "Kasuf will need help to stabilise things, but there are other places we could go when the time is right. Other worlds out there where it won't matter that you were once a jaffa."

"Daniel," O'Neill said. "Let's go home."