The hard part about being in the dark is navigating one sway in a unfamiliar surrounding without aid. The problem was being so familiar to the dark that it seemed more comforting than seeing color and shapes. Sitting on the bed in sick bay cupping his hands together. The long blue fabric laid aside on the edge of the bed. He heard Maureen's footsteps headed his way after closing the container. John and Don were searching for a glass container to replace the Robot's broken head. Smith distinctively recalled seeing a vase that was similar to the Robot resting on the counter in every quarters. It was only a matter of time before John noticed.

"Sorry, Madame," Smith said.

Smith felt his shoulders become light with the heavy feeling lifting off his shoulders.

"It wasn't your fault that we were in the bubble," Maureen said. "That was all John's."

Smith stared at her.

"The pacemaker," Smith said.

Maureen paused as it occurred to what he was apologizing for.

"You were being suppressed," Maureen said.

"I remember how it began," Smith said. "I was in control then." He cleared his throat.

"We all make mistakes," Maureen said.

"I had the option of transferring the entity into a more welcoming, convenient item for the trip, place it in the air lock, and let it fly out to his pleasure but instead I lost it," he lifted his head up with a sigh then kept himself still allowing her to put the prosthetic eye into his right socket. The soft click followed afterwards. He closed his eyes feeling the sheering pain coming from the long strings. "I left the container behind after being startled by a prehistoric rhino. A accident on my part. I never meant for anyone to get hurt."

"We thought that's how it happened," Maureen said.

"Please," Smith said, as she popped the other eye in. "Call me Smith."

His eyelids fluttered becoming adjusted to the change in color. All he could see was blue that had distinct shapes. Blue as the sky over Earth. A smile grew on the woman's face that was returned by the pardoned man.

"Alright, Smith,"Maureen said, squeezing his hands.

"Thank you," Smith said.

Maureen lowered her gaze.

"What happened to your hands?" Maureen asked, shifting her eyes up toward him.

Smith turned his gaze down toward his hands as Maureen let go and he set his hands onto his lap.

"The beginning should be first," Smith said. "This time. I'll start off after I had left the planet."

The doors to sick bay opened letting in John and Don. It was then Smith knew then that they had to know. They had to know everything. Except for the classified mission he went on thirty some years ago under Stargate command. That could only be told to Don. His eyes felt heavy directed at Don. A heavy heart that he had to tell the young man that the US Government never went back for him.

Disbelief, denial, and anger would have been a familiar stage for the pilot to be walking on with the Jupiter 2 crew to watch on full display. It was decided. He was going to save that story for later. Maybe never if Smith had it his way. He had talked about it enough with Stargate Command's numerous counselors. The camera panned around coming away from his perspective twirling toward the doors that closed before the view changing the scene to pitch black.