(A/N: This story was adopted from Haiju. Thanks to her, my muse had another brainstorm and this came about…)

"Unauthorized gate activation!"

Red lights flashed and a siren blared as General Hammond strode into the control room; the room was half-dark, thanks to heavy metal shields blocking the plate glass window that ordinarily provided a view of the Gate. A flurry of clicks and beeps buzzed in the room as personnel adjusted monitoring equipment and computers, barking out reports back and forth. Even the normally imperturbable black berets stationed on either side of the door looked on edge.

"What's the situation, people?" Hammond demanded, with a nod to the windows. "Why are these closed?"

"We're not sure, sir," one of the men volunteered. "A wave of radiation was detected, so the blast shields closed automatically. The radiation doesn't seem to be immediately threatening, however—"

"Well, get them open! We need to see what we're dealing with here." He turned to the balding corporal manning the Star-Gate controls. "Corporal, talk to me: Who's dialing?"

"Yessir! It's, uh…what the hell?"

It was a bad sign when the usually composed technician started swearing. "What the hell, what, corporal?" Hammond asked.

"There…is no gate address, sir. It just activated independently… Also, the Iris only now starting to respond."

"That's not possible, corporal."

"I know, sir."

Just then the window's shield retracted. The Gate Room was immediately bathed in a lurid green light; there was a startled exclamation from the back of the room. The iris had only just begun closing before it ground to a stop and looked eerily like black sharp teeth against the vivid green emanating from the Stargate. Hammond stared at the gate, which had exchanged its bright blue pool of light for a swirling mass of glowing greens. There were a few moments of stunned silence, and then Hammond turned to the corporal.

"What the hell, Corporal, happened to my Stargate?"

"We're not sure, sir…"

At that point Major Samantha Carter had run up from her lab and had jostled for position next to Corporal Walters; "it seems to be some sort of energy mass, but the readings are completely different from anything we've ever seen. It…seems to still be functioning as a wormhole, as far as I can tell…" She said to the General. "The Iris is not responding General…"

"I can see that major. My question is: WHY isn't the Iris responding to commands?" General Hammond demanded.

A new but very familiar alarm began beeping insistently on the monitor in front of the corporal. "If these readings are still reliable, sir, we have an incoming traveler." Corporal Walters said in disbelief.

"We'll deal with the green issue later, people. Standard bogie protocol: Send a squad to the Gate Room. Make sure they have some zat guns down there, I want them to be prepared for anything."

"Yes sir!"

"And someone get that Iris working!" General Hammond growled

"Yes sir!"

Seconds ticked by, and nothing happened. A few wisps of strange green mist that had somehow escaped the iris swirled in a lazy spiral pattern in front of the gate. The siren and the flashing lights took on a monotonous aspect as they blared on and on...

By that time, Daniel Jackson and Teal'c had run up from their lab and quarters, Teal'c had his staff weapon in hand and stood ready for anything.

Then the green energy from the gate flared to an even brighter green against the shielded glass of the control room, forcing those in the control room to shield their eyes. A small figure hurtled through the partially closed iris and into the gate room. It seemed to be falling, or perhaps flying backwards at a high velocity, arms shielding its head. As its trajectory sped it through the Gate Room, the squad opened fire, but the bullets did no damage. The thing's momentum and erratic flight made them think of evasive maneuvers as it shot at an upward angle and straight toward the viewing window of the control room, apparently away from the sound of weapons fire.

Though the glass was bulletproof and several inches thick, Hammond found himself moving out of the way—but instead of impact, the alien passed effortlessly through the glass as if it were water—it flew by inches from the general's face, and he felt a sudden chill. He got a vague impression of the alien—small male humanoid, white hair, wearing some form of black bodysuit, eyes shut. Hammond had the feeling that it didn't even realize it'd been shot at.

A blue streaking-flash lit the room brightly originating from the still open iris of the Stargate; the blue light hit the figure, and it convulsed in the air, still moving backward, then rammed with a sickening crack into the far bank of computers in the control room where it hit and then crashed to the ground face-first, leaving a slightly luminous green puddle to form around him.

Teal'c had his staff-weapon open and trained on the intruder, but Hammond stayed his firing.

Hammond looked at the man standing in the doorway, a box under one arm and a zat gun held ready in one hand. "Colonel?"

Colonel O'Neill cocked an eyebrow, raising the weapon a little higher. "Somebody call for a few of these?"

Sam took one of the Zat's from the box O'Neill held and held it loosely aimed at the intruder.

The colonel's words seemed to break the freeze the room had been in. The technicians went back to their stations, typing madly to silence the myriad alarms still going off. The black berets ran from their posts at the door to the alien. One of the marines took a zat from O'Neill and trained it on the humanoid while the another bent down and carefully rolled it over. As he did so, there was a flash of bright white light from the alien, drawing the attention of the already jittery crew.

Immediately Sam and Jack had their Zats in a firm grip and ready for firing, Teal'c had gotten himself a better aim on the intruder, extremely wary.

Hammond turned, dreading the worst. What now? An alien device designed to blow up the base? A plague? A mystical prison? A mind-melt? A million different possibilities buzzed through his head—the less plausible, he'd found, was often the most likely—but nothing prepared him for the sudden change in their prisoner. All that happened was a ring of light surrounding the alien before diminishing completely.

"God save us," The marine said in a hushed voice. "It's a kid."

Everything strange and alien had vanished, leaving a skinny, black-haired kid in sneakers, bloody, dirty jeans, and a ripped and bloodied white t-shirt with the remnants of a Coca-Cola logo on the front. His eyes were screwed tightly shut, and there was blood seeping from his hair which dripped to the ground and mixed with the green puddle beneath him. One of his arms lay at a strange angle, obviously broken.

The black beret who was crouching next to him looked up, his dark-skinned face paled to a sickly putty color. "He's hurt bad, sir."

It was a severe understatement; the kid's face looked like it had been pounded to a pulp by hard-core bully; his chest had several lacerations which were still bleeding profusely, and he had a shank of a metal object impaled in his left leg. The kid, whoever, whatever he was, would have some serious scars if he survived.

"It could be a trick, General," O'Neill said quietly. "It's happened before."

Hammond slowly shook his head. "I'm not going to make assumptions. He hasn't made any acts of overt aggression; he could be an innocent person, for all we know. Alert medical bay, send a team up here quickly. You," he gestured to one of the black berets. "Arm yourself appropriately and stay within sight of the intruder at all times. Until further notice, he is still a suspected hostile."

"Yes sir." The zats and staff-weapon powered down.

There was a grating as the iris finally closed followed a whine as the gate shut down. The iris open again and a small cloud of the green substance broke off in the Gate Room, hung in the air a moment as if waving goodbye, and then dissipated into nothing. "Weird…" the corporal muttered, but he had more pressing things to worry about. Like helping Major Carter in figuring out yet another alien energy source before it destroyed the gate, the command center, and probably the entire planet. Joy.

Danny woke to someone saying his name, but not to him.

"So, Danny-boy… Think you've got enough books there?"

"Jack, this boy comes from another planet; despite what his clothes looked like when he came in, I doubt he speaks English."

Subtly, Danny felt his clothing, to find that he was dressed in standard hospital patient-wear. Danny frowned slightly, he could have sworn that he had gotten his ghost powers back after he and his Team, including his sister had gone back into the Ghost Zone to try and wrangle all the ghosts to try and save the world…

"I believe he is awake Daniel Jackson…"

Knowing that he'd been discovered, Danny opened his eyes and looked up into the high ceiling of a medical room.

Belatedly he realized why he never allowed his blood to be tested: His Ghost Powers. That meant that his secret was out in the open! And judging by the uniforms that the people around him were dressed in, he was surrounded by the military.

The one surrounded by books stepped closer to the bed, and spoke something in a different language, actually it was several something's in different languages.

Danny let the confident side of him come out to play, if his secret was out, there was no reason for him to play the wimpy civilian, anyway.

So, he spoke quite slowly and mockingly: "You… Do... Realize… That… I Can… Speak... English… Right…?" Danny said, crossing his arms across his chest.

The other "Danny" looked taken aback, frustratingly so. "Why didn't you say so?!"

"Hey- you're the one that wanted to make first contact." Danny said, investigating the bandage on his arm, while subtly glancing at the armed guard at the foot of his bed.

"Great. So the kid speaks English!" Said the man connected to the voice identified as Jack. "What's your name kid?"

"Who wants to know, citizen?" Danny shot back, his face twinged in discomfort and he… couldn't remember why it would feel like that.

"Jack O'Neill, Colonel."

"Right. What branch of the military?" Danny asked curious, he mentally categorized his injuries: his chest was bound, he had what felt like stitches in his leg, in several places on his torso, and above his left eye, as well as in his hair, which was currently missing in that patch if the A/C was anything to go by, also his arm was splinted. All his injuries were healing at an accelerated pace and Danny knew that by the evening that he'd be as normal as a half-ghost could be health-wise.

"Air-Force."

"Space division, or land based?"

"Little bit of both." Jack said with a shrug.

"What year was the Air-Force's name change?"

"You're asking a lot of questions…" Jack said, stalling, he couldn't quite remember the actual date, but he remembered that it was after WWII.

"Right... It's not like any of you were contemplating doing a vivisection on me…" Danny mocked them, snorting in derision.

"Daniel" looked grossed out, Jack and the woman next to him were shocked, the unarmed last person around his bed merely raised an eyebrow in question.

"Is that why you've been evasive?" The woman asked. "You've been threatened with vivisection?"

"And to be torn apart molecule by molecule." Danny said crossing his arms across his chest in supreme distrust, an extremely wary look hardened across his face.

"I'm Sam. Sam Carter, Major." The woman said, extending a hand in the classic, nice-to-meet-you, gesture.

Danny, who was stunned by the name introduction, was startled and reciprocated the action. "Danny Fenton. Sophomore." It was only when he grimaced that he noticed he'd unthinkingly shook hands with his splinted arm.

"So, what was with the suit kid?" Jack asked. "When you came through, and we checked our surveillance cameras, you were decked out in a skintight suit, with white hair…"

"Give me some time;" Danny interrupted. If these people didn't know Danny Phantom on sight, there was a good chance that his secret really wasn't out; "I need to know if I can trust you…"

"Indeed, and when will that happen?" Said the last man, not including the armed guard still at the foot of his bed.

"Dunno." Danny said shrugging, "but I'll be sure to tell you when I do…"

"Hello Colonel, Major, Daniel and Teal'c…" Another woman said walking up to Danny's bed. "And how's our patient doing?"

"A little sore, but I'm good." Danny said shrugging as he replied.

"Really?" The Doctor asked, "1-10 on the pain scale, how are you feeling?" Apparently she didn't believe him. But then again, why would she?

"Maybe a 2… 3 tops." Danny said.

"Good. I'm Dr. Frasier, Then would you mind telling me how you're healing so fast, and what makes your blood-work look like Christmas lights?"

Danny winced. "Sorry- but it's safe to say that it's because of my DNA."

"And what-" The Doctor started, Danny held up a hand to stop her flow of questions.

"It's not contagious, viral, or bacterial, and it's because I'm unique."

The Doctor frowned at his explanation, but nodded and left to presumably preform more tests.

"I don't think she liked that, kid." Jack said in a lightly scolding manner.

"I don't know many adults who do like it." Danny said smirking at Jack.

"Smart-Alek."

"Sorry, my name's Danny." Danny snarked at Jack. Internally, Danny winced, he was sounding like Sam did; next thing, he'd be an Ultra-Recyclo-Vegetarian, more internally, Danny shuddered in revulsion.

Jack barely resisted the urge to smack the teenager upside the head, and instead mock-threatened, "Don't make me take you fishing!"

"I'd rather go fishing, than stay here." Danny said, grabbing the railing. "Let's go."

"Ah- I don't think so…" Sam said, putting hands to Danny's shoulders and pushing him back down. "The guard wouldn't like it, and the General most definitely wouldn't approve."

"What the General doesn't know, can't hurt me…" Danny said, wheedling. If it got him out of this hospital bed, he would deal with the pain.

"Sorry kid. That only works against parents; not the armed forces." Jack said.

"You really like fishing?" Daniel asked Danny.

"It's normal." Danny said, "what could be better?"

Strangely enough, SG-1 had no response for that.

Teal'c was the one to break the awkward silence. "How is it, that you speak English, wear American monikers, and yet you came through a wormhole?"

Danny looked up at him in confusion. "I came through a wormhole?" He frowned thinking, "Don't you have to have a heightened acceleration past Mach 9, with the added friction of gravitational pull to initiate the electromagnetic force wave to open a wormhole?"

No one answered his semi-rhetorical question, and he continued; "Last thing I remember was: I was being attacked… How did a wormhole open without the standard physics?"

"How do you know wormhole physics?" Sam asked, confused how a fifteen year-old would know something that complex.

"Please! The Fenton Space Module is the only craft that doesn't need the added rocket propulsion to exit the gravitational pull of Earth's atmosphere." Danny said, in a 'shouldn't you know this?' tone.

"…The what now?" Jack O'Neill asked in confusion.

Danny opened his mouth only to close it, and open it again. "I'm sorry, does the situation: Disasteroid mean anything to you?" He frowned in concern, these people should be way more worried than they were.

"Should it?" Daniel asked.

Danny forced out a long breath of air, clenching his fists as he did so. "Where am I?"

"That's Clas-" O'Neill started saying.

"NO. I don't care about your complex here; I want to know whether I'm on Earth or not, and whether I'm close to Illinois or not."

SG-1 exchanged glances, this was new.

"We… should wait for the General."

"Why? Is this place so secret that only the General knows where it is?"

That pulled a guffaw out of Colonel O'Neill, and made Sam and Daniel bite their lips to hide their smiles. Teal'c only raised an eyebrow. Danny was starting to think that that was all he ever did.

Danny looked to the armed guard at the foot of his bed. "Hey, Rambo. Any chance you'll play Texas Hold'em with me?"

The guard looked to O'Neill and remained stoic.

"Guess not." Danny said leaning back in bed as the rest of his healing powers kicked in. It was official: Once he got back to the Ghost Zone, he'd thank Skulker for attacking him with all those other ghosts, then he'd kick all of their butts around the Zone. Plan A was a decent first plan, but forcing the ghosts wasn't the best thing to do; they were sentient after all…

Maybe if things played out correctly, he could ask these military-type people what precisely they should do in order to get the ghosts to help and how to save his Earth; especially since this wasn't these military people didn't even know about the Disasteroid, it would make sense that this wasn't even his Earth or dimension.