Title: Redemption

Authors:

Status: Complete

Category: S/J, angst, action

Rating: PG-15

Season/Sequel Info: None

Spoilers: a few minor ones for various episodes

Archive: SJA, Heliopolis OK

Feedback: Sure

Summary: While exploring a planet, a member of SG-1 is captured and becomes a host.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Editor's Note: I wanted to see what would happen if some of my favorite writers got together to write a story. The writers participated in a Round Robin (where each writer only gets to read what the writer before them writes). Due to the nature of this, you may find some inconsistencies. However, any inconsistencies are minor and do not have any bearing on the plot. Also, this is a happy Valentine's day wish to everyone on the list.

* * * * * * *

Sometimes, Jack O'Neill felt that he could navigate the hallways of Stargate Command with his eyes closed. Other times, he couldn't help but wonder if that confidence in his surroundings wasn't all a figure of his imagination, and if he wouldn't plow directly into the wall if given the chance.

*The story of my life...*

Essentially, Jack had learned to keep his guard up: at all times, about all things. Even when he was smiling, when he was enjoying some downtime, when he was joking with his friends, inside he was in a state of constant apprehension. Too well, he knew how quickly the smile could vanish, how briskly the downtime could become wartime, how abruptly the friendship he'd found could be taken from him. It was a cynical way of living, but one he was certain would numb him, keep him insulated from any other catastrophes in his life.

And that catastrophe would come, no doubt about it. His life had been one great long procession of endless blunders and mishaps, accidents and downright disasters. Some he had absolutely no control over. Others he was solely responsible for, and he took comfort in the guilt.

The SGC was currently the best thing that had ever happened to him. Here he'd found companionship and, even more important, a new goal in life. A new mission, a new purpose, ad it was the best. But before, Sara and Charlie had been the best things to ever happen to him... and look at them now. The good things in Jack O'Neill's life, it seemed, were tenuous and fragile. Only the bad things remained. Only the bad things tailed him like wild animals, thirsting for his blood.

As a result, he did what he could to stay numb, to stay distanced from reality, but it was harder than he had ever imagined it would be. Friends made it hard for one to stay dark and nasty, especially such tenacious friends.

Daniel had been the first, the one to truly show him that there was a life still to be lived, no matter what you lost, no matter who was taken from you. There was always a fight to be fought, anger, and an enemy to direct that anger towards. It was something he had known, long ago, in another time, but Daniel had helped him remember the lesson. Life was here, and if Jack let it be spoiled or stolen, then the dark forces that had taken Charlie away would win. His life, and everything the kid had taught his dad in the interval, would be meaningless.

Teal'c had taught him something, too, in his own, special, almost accidental way: *it's entirely possible for someone to change their life. For one's future to be put on the right track, even after being so long on the old one. Second chances are waiting to be made.* Teal'c had come far because he had a good soul and an even better heart, because he had a conscience that had told him to stop taking the easy way out. He abandoned his former gods, and because of it, he was priceless to them.

The lessons Sam Carter had imparted were even more subtle, barely there underneath his skin. Patience. Humor. Optimism. Energy. Hope for a new future, a better tomorrow; a world with more Carters would be all the better for it. She was brilliant; maybe a little too smart for her own good, because when confronted with a problem, the technological aspect came before the human one. Carter was a scientist at heart, and Jack only hoped hat she'd never lose touch with the rest of mankind, the people, like him, who never had an idea in hell of what she was talking about.

Every once in a while, he tried. Tried to understand a fraction of what she could. Tried to fathom why she found all of it so damned interesting. Tried to comprehend how she could take an afternoon of naqueda analysis over a hockey game. He invariably ended up with a headache and the disturbing sense that he was a complete idiot. He'd even borrowed one of her less-imposing books today, before she'd gotten to the lab, and spent a good half hour paging through it. But the letters had all run together into one immense word, and the figures had merely swum about the page. He'd never really understand her. Might as well stop trying. Might as well give into the cliché of old dogs and new tricks, and concede that at this point in his life, there was no reason to search out even more useless information.

So most of the time, he just tried not to think about it. And when he couldn't do that, he consoled himself with the knowledge that what he COULD do he did very well. Jokes about SG-1's invincibility aside, the four of them had beaten the odds time after time, and Jack allowed himself to feel some measure of pride from that. Sure, they managed to run into trouble more consistently then any other group that had ever served at the SGC, but they also got out of trouble consistently... and sometimes they were the better for it.

That was the theory behind this mission at least. It was a risk, but a calculated one, and if successful it could conceivably make all the difference in the world in the fight against the Goa'uld.

* * * * * * *

In the darkness, something glistened. Glass. Liquid. Movement.

No sound, no light, no human breath had disrupted the stillness of this place for a millennium. No footsteps had echoed against the smooth, black walls. But now there was a sound - a dry, scraping sound - and a faint glimmer that could only be perceived because of the utter lightlessness of the place. The sound stopped, and the light dimmed, but something had changed in its wake. No longer was the darkness drifting, sleeping. Now it was waiting, listening for the echo of footsteps, anticipating the intrusion of human breath.

Liquid. Movement. Something thin and sinuous flicked eagerly against the glass.

* * * * * * *

For a few moments, the light from the Stargate illuminated the entire chamber. Black, blank walls, four square corners, and not a silver-helmeted or glowing-eyed enemy in sight. The DHD was displayed prominently in front of the Gate, seemingly intact. Sam switched on her small light and relaxed imperceptibly. The MALP had shown an empty room, too, but she never felt completely confident until she could make direct visual contact. She wondered what Colonel O'Neill would think about that - he'd probably find it ironically amusing that she didn't trust one of her 'doohickeys' with absolute assurance - and then she frowned and reminded herself that she shouldn't be dwelling on Colonel O'Neill unnecessarily.

The Stargate disengaged and the four of them were left in darkness illuminated by three intense beams of light. Daniel mumbled to himself, fumbled for his flashlight, and belatedly clicked his on.

"Doesn't look very... Goa'uldish, does it?" he remarked disappointedly, running the light over the featureless walls. "No tapestries, no inscriptions..." He moved a little further into the room, boots tapping against the hard, polished floor.

"You still think this is the right place?" asked O'Neill suspiciously. He was running his light over the walls as well, but he was in search of an exit, not archeological curiosities.

"Oh, I'm sure," said Daniel quickly. "I'm just saying... it's weird... is all."

Sam stepped up close to the wall, hesitantly raising a hand to touch it, and frowned in concentration. Cold, as expected, but also vibrating slightly, which was strange. Like there was some kind of machinery working on the other side. She moved sideways, keeping her hand against the wall, searching for some kind of blemish or imperfection.

"Well as long as that's all--"

"Sir," Sam interrupted, feeling her fingers catch on something. "There's a seam here."

The Colonel nodded Teal'c over, and together they located the vague shape of the door, leaving Daniel to search for Goa'uld trademarks alone. It was the same color and texture as the walls, recessed right into them to the point of near-invisibility. "Push," declared Teal'c after a moment of investigation.

The huge slab opened slowly, even with the three of them behind it, scraping against the floor and releasing a puff of stale air. Daniel drifted over, and the four of them stared over the threshold at what lay beyond.

"Yikes," muttered the Colonel.

* * * * * * *

At first glance all Sam could see through the doorway was a yawning hole, apparently plunging straight down into the inpenetrable darkness. The vibration she had felt now changed into a distant humming permeating the air. She took a couple of steps forward and shone her flashlight downwards. "It's okay, there's a flight of stairs."

The Colonel moved forward to join her and peered downwards. "A very long flight of stairs, by the looks of things," he muttered glumly. "Okay, let's keep close together. Teal'c make sure that door can't slam shut while we're inside."

Nodding, the Jaffa glanced round the room for a moment, then strode across and picked up a storage container from the MALP, heaving it onto his shoulders. Walking quickly back, he wedged it carefully against the door.

"Jack, is that necessary? It took three of you to open it?"

"Daniel, we were told this was a Goa'uld hideout. I'm not taking any chances." The Colonel turned back towards the door. "After you, Carter."

As they began to descend, Sam couldn't shake the feeling they were being watched. She knew the idea was ridiculous, they were in a narrow stairway in almost total darkness and this place didn't look like it had been visited for a very long time. The air smelt stale and cobwebs hung from the ceiling, catching at her face and clothes. Irritably, she brushed them away as a shudder rippled through her. This was ridiculous. Giving herself a mental shake, she tried to think about the situation logically. Perhaps it was the intel they'd been given about this place by the Tok'ra? Her Dad had been so convinced that this place was a secret hideout for the system lords.

But Teal'c had never heard of it and it didn't look like anyone was here now, or had been for a long time. The steps were inch deep in dust. She swiped at another clinging cobweb. A *very* long time. Perhaps her Dad was wrong? Yes, that had to be it, they were on a wild goose chase.

But if she was so convinced they were on their own, why did it feel like an icy finger was moving slowly down her back?

* * * * * * *

Down below, the vibration of footsteps penetrated the glass prison.

Writhing in anticipation. Waiting. They had come. Patience always paid off.

* * * * * * *

"Three hundred and fifty seven, three hundred and fifty eight, three hundred and...."

"Can it, Daniel! We *know* it's a long way down. We don't need you constantly reminding us."

Scowling, the archaeologist continued under his breath, "Three hundred and.... Damn! I've lost count."

"Good!" said Jack smugly.

"Sir, I think I can see the bottom."

O'Neill tried to see past Carter, Daniel and Teal'c but with only their flashlights for illumination it was difficult to make out anything coherent. All he could see were shadows dancing on the walls and yet more steps.

"Yeah, definitely the bottom, sir."

"Sweet! When we get down there fan out and see what you can..." A sound behind him made him stop mid-sentence. When he swung round and looked up to try and see what had caused the eerie scraping noise his heart constricted violently and the breath caught in his throat. How the hell...?

"What was that?" asked Daniel. "I can't see anything up there."

"Exactly, Daniel. You should be able to see something behind us. The door just closed." The Colonel's voice was grim.

"But how? Teal'c wedged that container against it."

O'Neill felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. "I know. Something tells me that we may not be alone."

"What should we do, sir? Go back up?" The worry in Carter's voice was audible.

"In a few minutes, Major. We've come all this way. We might as well have a quick look round." As he followed his team down the remaining steps, he didn't add that an exploration of the area would give him more time to think about how to open a flush fitting door from the inside. But there was a more positive option. "There may be another way out down here." Or more likely, not.

"Sir! Over here!"

He could tell Carter was upset by her tone. "Please tell me you've found an exit, Major."

"No, sir. But you ought to see this."

"So it is a Goa'uld hideout," murmured Daniel, when he took in the scene illuminated by Sam's flashlight. About fifteen feet in front of them, standing in the centre of a smooth black slab was a glass container.

Glinting in the light, its contents were shockingly familiar.

* * * * * * *

Blinding light. Hide. Get away. Too bright. Find a dark corner. Too long in the darkness. Overwhelming.

Realisation. Elation. The end of solitude. Soon there would be a host.

And then revenge.

* * * * * * *

Jack took in the large tank with a single mature symbiote floating in it's milkywater. "Carter, is it possible for us to safely secure and transport the snake home?"

"We would have to examine the tank, sir. It appears to be a simple tank, but it could be booby trapped. We can carry it in a thermos again like Daniel and I attempted to do on Chulak."

"Examine the tank. If we can secure it, we will then leave, if not, then I want to get out of here as quickly as possible." He glanced up the long dark stairwell. "I don't want to stick around any longer than we have to."

"Yes, sir," Carter moved towards the tank, carefully examining the structure without touching it.

"Daniel, do you see anything around her that would indicate who's in the tank?"

Jackson swung his flashlight around the chamber. He and Sam both jumped when a high pitched screech came from the tank as his light landed on it.

"So our friend here doesn't like light," Jack mused. "That could be useful. Daniel, if there's anything to translate, get it on film, you can work on it back at the SGC. That door couldn't have possibly closed on it's on, so chances are we're not alone. The question is, are they out there or in here with us..."

* * * * * * *

Soon. Soon. The others are coming. The loyal ones. Soon all will be over.

A new host and they would pay.

Patience.

* * * * * * *

A soft sound came from far off. Teal'c turned slowly around, his flashlight scanning the darkness as he attempted to ascertain where the sound had come from. He heard it again, just as faint as before, is softly echoed in his ears.. "O'Neill," he called out as he discovered the source of the sound.

"What is it, Teal'c?" Jack responded from across the chamber.

"There is a passageway. Someone may be approaching, we must leave." He lifted his staff weapon higher, aiming it into the darkness his light was unable to penetrate. "They come closer," he continued, his ears picking up on more shuffling sounds. "I am uncertain how far away they are."

"Okay, Campers, that's our cue. Pack up, if possible we'll come back with reinforcements, we can then attempt to secure the Goa'uld."

Without protest, Jackson and Carter quickly packed up the supplies they'd taken out for their work. "I've got almost everything on tape, Jack. When we come back, we should know who we're dealing with," Daniel said as he reattached his pack to his vest.

"We can also bring back better equipment to open the tank and to carry the Goa'uld back, sir. I'm not certain, but I think the tank may have a trigger. Open it in the wrong way..."

"I get the picture, Carter. Everyone set?" at his team's affirming nods, Jack continued. "Teal'c, you take point, Daniel, you follow, then Carter. I'll cover our sixes. We need to double time it up those stairs."

With silent precision, the team quickly started up the stairs, the angry screeching of the Goa'uld in the tank following them up.

* * * * * * *

The darkness cloaked them well and they were experienced with using its cover to trap prey. After all, they could not go hungry while waiting for the right host for their god.

But which member of this group should they choose?

Their god preferred male hosts, of that they were certain. In that case, there was much choice to be had. The male at the rear of the group, yes, it would be him. He had given the instructions and so was obviously the leader. To be leader he would have to have both knowledge and strength, making him the ideal host. As he was also at the back of the group, he would be easier to pick off.

* * * * * * *

Sam glanced back at the Colonel, barely able to make out his features in the darkness. Noticing her attention he smiled reassuringly and said "Nearly back at base now, Carter." Sam returned his smile, nodded and turned back to the front. She was just wondering what this particular Goa'uld's personality was when she felt the air behind her shift.

"Sir?" she asked quietly, waiting for an answer. When he didn't reply, she turned around, the question dying on her lips when she noticed that the Colonel was not there.

"Daniel! Teal'c!" She called, panicking. How could he be gone? She'd just been talking to him a few minutes ago.

They turned back to face her, Daniel's eyebrows raised questioningly. Daniel did a visible double take when he realised Jack wasn't there, while Teal'c strode forward.

"Um, Sam, where did Jack go?"

"How the hell do I know? He was here just a second ago, I was talking to him and..." 'Okay', Sam thought, 'Get a hold of yourself, this could just be some sort of trick the Colonel is playing on you.' But she knew that this wasn't the kind of thing that Jack would do. She had to take charge now, find the Colonel and then get them all back to base safely.

"Okay, we'll check back up the corridor to see if he's fallen behind. Stay alert and stay together, we don't know what's out there and if there is someone or something here, they're quiet and dangerous."

But even as she heard the words, Sam heard the screeching of the Goa'uld down the corridor and it all clicked into place. Disregarding her own words, she began to run.

"Sam!" she heard Daniel call, and then the heavy thud of footsteps behind her as Teal'c also set off at a run.

She rounded the corner to see figures in robes holding an unconscious Jack O'Neill by the arms and for a moment allowed herself to hope that they'd arrived on time. Then Jack raised his head, his eyes flashed and Sam felt the bottom fall out of her world.

They were too late.

She simply stood there staring in horror and shock until the Goa'uld got up with effort. There was a pause and Sam noticed that he was sweating, fighting with Jack's will in order to exert power over his body.

Then Jack broke through suddenly. "Sam, run! Get the others out of here!" He managed to shout before his eyes flashed again and the Goa'uld regained control.

Mentally calculating the number of figures in robes and the weapons they carried, Sam realised that it was a hopeless fight and did as Jack said, running for her life. "Run!" She screamed at Daniel and Teal'c, it wasn't exactly an orderly retreat, but if it saved their lives it would be worth it.

Even as she ran, Sam turned it all over in her mind. How would they ever find him again if the Goa'uld decided to gate out of here. Would she ever see the Colonel again? What if she didn't? There was so much left unsaid and undone... But the thing that really worried her was this, she knew that Jack would rather be dead than a Goa'uld.

If it came down to that, and they could not save him, would Sam have the courage to pull the trigger? She honestly didn't know the answer to that question.

But she refused to let herself think it would come to that. They would find him, and bring him to the Tollans. They had to.

They stumbled out into the sunlight and headed for the 'Gate at a run. 'Hold on, Colonel,' Sam thought as she stepped through. 'We're coming back for you.'

* * * * * * *

The sensation was like fire prickling along every nerve in his spine, sickening him as it crawled inexorably into his mind.

"Get the fuck out!" he screamed, unsure if he even made a sound as he writhed under the firm hands that held him in the darkness. "Get the fuck out of my goddamn head!"

Strong fingers gripped his face, digging painfully into his jaw as they studied him. "Our Lord should have taken control by now," a voice rasped. "We should have seen his presence."

The words floated on the darkness like the cold whisper of dead leaves. But Jack barely heard them, for at that moment something hit him with such force that it knocked the breath physically from his lungs. But the blow came not from without but from within as the massive presence of the Goa'uld bulldozed into his mind. "I am Sor'tel," it informed him, "and you will submit."

"Go screw yourself," Jack gasped, but he could already feel the strength of the creature's mind crushing his own feeble consciousness.

Dimly, as if through a dense fog, he heard voices again. Anxious, afraid. "They are coming. We must take Our Lord through the Stargate."

"No. We cannot move him until the process is complete. It is too dangerous and..." But the rest of the words were lost to Jack as consciousness started slipping away from him, plunging him towards yawning darkness; he was afraid that if he succumbed he would be lost forever. And that thought terrified him beyond words.

And so he fought, with everything he was, clinging desperately to his sense of self. Sweating, he clutched at one of the hands that held him. "Get it out," he whispered hoarsely. "For the love of God, get it out..." But his hand was shaken free and darkness consumed him once more, deep, black and terrifying. Oblivion.

And then, like a spear of light, he heard a voice that blasted away the terror. It was Daniel. And he was shouting, "Sam!"

Jack felt his head lift from where it had slumped against his chest, but he had no control over the movement; he felt like a puppet jerking on the end of its strings and was revolted by the sensation. From around the corner he saw Carter come skidding to a halt. She stared at him with fear and hope warring on her face. But then he felt the Goa'uld push forward in his head, and he knew that Carter had seen the truth because horror shattered the hope in her eyes. Absolute horror. And disgust. It was a look Jack knew he'd never forget, for the rest of his miserable life.

A sudden rage exploded inside him at the sight of her horror; anger at himself for allowing himself to be captured like some green kid, anger at the monster violating his mind, and anger that Carter might get herself killed trying to save his ass. And with the rage came control, not much but just enough to yell, "Sam, run! Get the others out of here!"

She hesitated, but only for a moment, and then she was turning and yelling, "Run!" Thank God...

But his momentary flash of relief was squashed by the angry thrust of the Goa'uld's mind. "Do not resist me," it warned, in a voice that oozed through him like a foul oil. "Or I will make you wish for death."

"I already do," he assured it silently. And he meant it. If he'd thought Carter had stood a chance in hell of succeeding, he'd have ordered her to kill him on the spot. But he'd seen the odds. And although he'd rather be dead than be a Goa'uld, he'd rather be a Goa'uld than watch her die trying to rescue him.

* * * * * * *

The locker room was empty as Sam sat silently on one of the benches, wrapped only in a towel, her mind millions of miles away. He was gone. The words kept running around her head. He was gone. Colonel O'Neill was gone. Worse than dead, he was the enemy he loathed. And she had no idea how to bring him home.

What were the odds that he'd still be on G5T-493 when they went back? Slim to none. Not that Hammond would even sanction a rescue attempt until the base was secured. The iris had been practically welded shut since their return. "Major, I understand your concern," he'd told her, in a tone that suggested he really might have understood the depth of her feelings. "But all that Colonel O'Neill knows about this base, and about Earth's alliances and defences, is now in the hands of the Goa'uld. We can't risk anyone dialling into the Stargate, at least until we've changed base security protocols." He'd sighed then, running a hand over his balding head. "God only knows how we'll deal with all the other security breaches. We've never been so vulnerable."

He was right, of course. And Sam fully accepted his logic. But that didn't ease her sense of guilt or the gnawing pain in her chest as she thought back over every step of the mission. If only she'd noticed when they took him, if only there hadn't been so many guards, if only she could have fought for him. If only they'd been a couple of moments sooner. If only... Dully, she banged the back of her head against the locker behind her, beating out a morose rhythm. She felt so helpless, so useless. And she missed him so much. The thought of what he was going through, of the pain and the fear he must be enduring... She wanted to scream, to yell and rant at the universe for being so goddamn unfair. After everything he'd been through, he didn't deserve this. Not this.

"Um, Sam?" Daniel's hesitant voice roused her and she sucked in a steadying breath as she pulled her towel a little closer around her.

"Daniel." She frowned. "What?"

He sighed and sat down opposite her, as unfazed by her semi-naked state as the Colonel would have been flustered. "I can't just sit around and do nothing," he said, studying her over the top of his glasses. "And I'm betting you can't either."

There was something in his voice that was familiar, a thread of steel that underlay his mild manners. She'd seen it before, on a couple of occasions, when he felt that the right thing to do wasn't necessarily the most sensible thing to do. She sat forward, "What are you thinking?"

"That it's going to take three, maybe four, days before General Hammond okays a rescue attempt."

Sam nodded. "And by then the Colonel could be anywhere in the Galaxy."

"Right." He paused and pulled off his glasses. "He spoke to you, Sam," he said in a low voice. "That was Jack, not the Goa'uld."

"I know," she replied, wincing at the memory. He'd looked so afraid, but so determined, as he'd ordered her to run. But if only she hadn't run... She cleared her throat and refocused on Daniel, "So?"

"So," he continued, still in a low voice, "how many times have you ever seen a Goa'uld host talk?"

Sam blinked as his statement sparked a tentative hope. "Never," she agreed.

"Which means that somehow the Colonel was resisting the Goa'uld. But how? The infestation is usually instantaneous. I remember when Jolinar..." Lighting struck! "That's it! Hathor."

"Hathor?"

"This isn't the first time the Colonel has had a Goa'uld in his head, remember?"

Daniel frowned. "But it died before it took him over."

"Yes, but what did it leave behind?" Sam asked, her ideas flowing faster than her words. "I can't be a host again because I was host to Jolinar. What if the same, or similar, is true of the Colonel? What if the Goa'uld can't fully gain control of him?"

"Then," Daniel nodded, "I'd say we have a better chance of getting him back."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, gritting her teeth against the frustration she felt. "If we can find him. But by the time we can get back out there..."

"Ah," Daniel said, standing up and coming to sit next to her, "that's what I came to talk to you about."

Sam glanced at him sideways. "Oh?"

He leaned closer and whispered. "The Russian gate."

"No DHD," she pointed out with a sigh.

But Daniel smiled and handed her a piece of paper. "Maybe there is."

Confused, Sam glanced down. And as she read, she felt her heart start to lift like the sun rising over the mountains. "A requisition for the Antarctica DHD to be released from Area 51," she breathed, looking up at him. "How?"

"I suggested to General Hammond," he replied smoothly, "that you might like to continue your research into DHD technology while SG-1 is out of operation." He grinned suddenly. "Hammond agreed."

Sam almost laughed as adrenaline started to pulse in her veins. "When do we leave?"

Giving her the swift once-over, Daniel replied, "as soon as you get some clothes on."

* * * * * * *

Sam Carter closed her eyes and tried to sleep, not an easy task on an over-crowded transatlantic flight. At this moment, she regretted not having taken a military transport. But this was an unofficial, official mission; they were trying to stay under Senator Kinsey's radar. Sighing, she shifted once more, as a foot that belonged to a very bored little boy sitting behind her, pounded out a frantic rhythm against the back of her seat and straight to her kidneys.

Officially, Sam was on leave, going to Russian to visit Dr. Svetlana Markov. Daniel's soft snore next to her made her frown slightly. He could sleep anywhere, anytime, a habit of his that often drove her, and Colonel O'Neill, to distraction.

After obtaining the DHD from Area 51 and arranging for it's transportation to the Russian base in Teal'c's custody, she and Daniel arranged for a commercial flight to Germany. From there, they would travel by private car to the base where Dr. Markov had arranged for them to use the Russian gate.

General Hammond was covering their tracks at his end and as soon as he could, he would get a message to her father and the Tok'ra. As soon as they retrieved Colonel O'Neill they would head straight to the Tok'ra stronghold so they could get the Goa'uld out of him.

Sam braced against the grief that swept over her at the thought of the Colonel. It had only been a few days since the events on G5T-493, but Sam felt as if she had aged a dozen or more years in those scant hours. She knew she would never forget the sight of those glowing eyes in that beloved face, never.

She rubbed her eyes and pulled the thin blanket up under her chin. She knew that until Colonel O'Neill was safely home she would never be able to sleep again.

* * * * * * *

General George Hammond looked up as Davis knocked on the half open door. "Enter."

Davis stood just inside the doorway. "The codes have all been changed, Sir. We are up and running and awaiting your first order."

Hammond pushed away from his desk. "Thank you, Davis. Have Stephens meet me in the briefing room in ten minutes." He watched the tech pull the door closed behind him and then walked over to the credenza. He popped open a small panel and keyed in the password that opened a small safe. Inside the safe were not only the things he held dear, but the top-secret coordinates for the Tok'ra base. He and he alone was the only person in the SGC to know them, a precaution, that today he was glad he had taken. The capture and subsequent Goa'ulding of Jack O'Neill had been a major blow to national security. It had also given Kinsey another piece of the ammunition that he needed to close down the entire Stargate program.

He glanced at his watch. Major Carter and Jackson should be arriving at the base within the hour and God willing would have Jack secured shortly thereafter. If Sam's theory that the Goa'uld in the Colonel's head would be unable to gain complete control because of his previous encounter with one at the hands of Hathor proved out. It was a huge 'if'. Hammond sighed and headed for the briefing room. All he knew for certain at this moment was that he would feel better about their chances once he had a talk with Jacob.

* * * * * * *

Sam tightened her hand on her weapon as the Russian gate began to turn. She knew the odds that the Colonel was still on G5T-493 were slim. But she was willing to play those odds if it meant getting him home. Hell, she'd changed the laws of physics to rescue him and she'd willingly do that and more to get him back this time.

Sam knew what he was going through, she knew the awful helplessness if not being in control. I've watched helplessly twice as another being controlled my thoughts and my actions, once with Jolinar and more recently when the alien entity invaded my body, she thought. That emotional agony had been nearly as painful as the physical effects of melding with the Goa'uld.

The Colonel's strong, and his training will help him deal with the pain, but still... She closed her eyes against the wave of anguish she felt at what he must be feeling.

"Colonel O'Neill is a strong man. He will fight the demon within him."

Sam turned and looked up into the impassive face of Teal'c. He had the most uncanny habit of reading her mind. She often sought out his company during the most tense of situations knowing that he would have a calming effect on her. "I know he will, Teal'c, but how long can he hold out against the Goa'uld?"

"I have seen hosts fight the demon for days before they succumb to its presence." he said. Teal'c knew no other to way to calm the human woman's fears. Had they been alone he might have laid a hand on her shoulder, offering her physical comfort. But they were not, and he only had his words to alleviate her uneasiness. If it were possible, he would take this burden from her. But it was not, and all he could do was stay at her side.

Sam nodded as Daniel joined them. "I know, Teal'c, but I also know how incredibly hard it is to fight the Goa'uld. I'm hoping that the colonel's training and his earlier exposure will make it easier for him to resist."

She also hoped her voice didn't sound as shaky as she felt. The last few days had shaken her to the core and her defenses had been shattered. It was already a daily battle to keep her feelings for the colonel buried, now, knowing that she may very well never see him again, she was beginning to regret the decision to 'leave it in the room'.

"We know it can be done, Sam," Daniel said. "Sha're did it and so did Kendra; they both managed to control their symbiotes."

"And they did not have Colonel O'Neill's training," Teal'c added as Sam smiled tightly and took a couple of steps away from them.

"She's in a lot of pain," Daniel said softly, watching Sam pace in front of the gate. "I understand what she's going through; I know what it's like to lose someone you love to the Goa'uld."

Teal'c nodded, then spoke in his characteristic measured way. "It is my impression that Major Carter has never expressed love for Colonel O'Neill, Daniel Jackson."

Daniel shook his head. "Not directly anyway." He followed Sam with his eyes. "Must be harder for Sam than it was for me," he said. "I had time to love Sha're, to be with her. Sam and Jack have never had that chance."

"Major Carter is a strong woman, she will persevere," Teal'c said.

"It is time," said Dr. Markov, the petite Russian scientist, stepping forward. Looking solemn, as always, she watched as SG1 walked up to the gate and stepped through with out looking back. "Good luck and safe journey; we will await your return."

* * * * * * *

Jacob Carter stood with General Hammond in the control room overlooking the Stargate. Turning to look at his friend, he spoke. "Sam's theory is sound, George, although given that the first symbiote died before it completed the meld it might not be valid in Jack's case. And there have been cases where Tok'ra hosts have been blended more than once."

Hammond nodded. "But couldn't that be because of the sharing between host and symbiote?"

"Yes." Jacob answered. "Either way, the Tok'ra high council has agreed to help remove the symbiote from the Colonel."

"I appreciate that Jacob," Hammond said, "I'm sure it must have take a great deal to persuade the council to help us. Our alliance with the Tok'ra has been shaky at best and Jack isn't exactly it's most enthusiastic supporter."

"That is an understatement," Jacob said, smiling. "I like Jack, but he can be a real pain in the ass." And, he thought, the guy is in love with my daughter. Jacob continued to stare moodily out at the Stargate. I'm not even sure whether she returns that love, he thought. Sam's always kept her emotions well hidden, even from me. Hell, I wouldn't even have noticed Jack's feelings if it hadn't been for Selmak; damn snake is such a sap when it comes to matters of the heart. Jacob lowered his eyes and when he spoke again it was the voice of Selmak. "The Tok'ra high council saw the wisdom of helping in the rescue of Colonel O'Neill only after Jacob pointed out his contribution in saving the lives of many of our people. I fear however that we may not succeed in saving his."

"Thank you for your honesty, Selmak," George answered with a tight smile. He was still often uncomfortable to hear the Tok'ra's voice come out of his old friend's mouth. "But, SG-1 has gotten out of tight spots before. My money's on them."

Jacob smiled as he reclaimed control. "You always were a sucker for a long shot, George. But I agree; if anyone can pull this off, it's SG-1."

* * * * * * *

Sam crouched behind a small rock and waited. She could hear the footsteps of the Jaffa growing closer with each second. She glanced over to where Daniel and Teal'c were waiting for her command. She felt uneasy about the apparent ease with which this mission was going. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck were standing up, which was never a good sign. She let her eyes wander over the deserted landscape. Something didn't feel right about this; it was too good to be true. And there was something familiar about this scenario that she couldn't quite pinpoint.

Tightening her grip on her weapon, she began the countdown. As she reached five it dawned on her, why she had the feeling of deja vu. She and the colonel had used this scenario more than once to ambush the enemy. Damn! What had she been thinking? The Jaffa now had access to Colonel--

She scrambled up to warn Daniel and Teal'c but before she could react, she felt the pressure of a staff weapon in the small of her back. She saw Daniel and Teal'c across the path, surrounded by Jaffa. As she surrendered her weapon, she mentally cursed herself. How could she have been so damn careless? How could she not have anticipated the Goa'uld using the Colonel's own plans against them? She allowed the Jaffa to lead her to where the others stood.

"Whom do you serve?" she asked a wiry Jaffa who guarded her.

"Silence woman. You will know soon enough." The Jaffa glowered at her and turned to Teal'c. "So you are the sho'va, Teal'c, the one who betrayed your god, Apophis."

"Apophis was not a god; neither is the one you serve." Teal'c answered, earning a vicious blow with another Jaffa's staff weapon for his statement.

"Who are you?" asked Daniel, diverting the man's attention. "What do we call you?"

"I am Sebni, first prime of Sor'tel." The Jaffa replied before turning and barking orders at his men.

Daniel grimaced as he felt the end of a staff weapon prodding him forward. Sor'tel, he thought, must be the Goa'uld who had taken over Jack. He glanced over at Teal'c who slowly shook his head. He took that to mean that Teal'c had no idea who this Sor'tel was.

He let his gaze travel on to Sam who was walking slowly causing her Jaffa escort to fall behind in order to stay beside her. Daniel tensed as he realized that Sam was separating herself in order to make an escape attempt. He nodded imperceptibly before glancing at Teal'c who was lengthening his stride and pulling ahead of the group. Daniel kept walking, keeping pace with his guard waiting until both Teal'c and Sam had managed to put several meters between themselves and the rest of the guards.

"Kree!" The Jaffa guarding Daniel muttered as the archeologist stumbled, losing his footing and bumping against the man. Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel saw Sam push away from her guard and head into the brush. Then he heard the all too familiar whine of a Zat just moments before everything went black.

* * * * * * *

With a soft groan, Sam Carter pushed herself into a sitting position. She ached from the top of her head to the soles of her feet, not an uncommon side effect of being shot with a Zat. She slowly opened her eyes and took in her surroundings.

Her room contained a sleeping pallet heaped with pillows and a table with a single chair. Nearby was another stand on which stood an old-fashioned pitcher and bowl. The only window was near the ceiling, some twenty feet up she guessed. The walls were a smooth stone of some kind with no foothold in sight. The only door was set into the wall opposite the sleeping pallet and from the looks of it, nearly as thick as the stone walls.

The room can't be more than eight by eight, she thought. With twenty-foot high ceilings, she added with a sigh, as she tilted her head back. Even if she could have climbed up to the windows, she probably would never be able to fit through them. They were narrow and made of what looked to be thick glass.

A quick check verified she had been stripped of her equipment, although she was still in her uniform. She was also very much alone. She had a vague memory of seeing Daniel go down, but she was uncertain about Teal'c. He had been several meters away during the failed escape attempt. She rubbed her temple. If she was lucky, Teal'c had gotten away from the Jaffa and was bringing reinforcements, assuming, of course, that they were still on G5T-493.

She heard the sound of a key turning in a lock and jumped to her feet. The door swung open to reveal a young woman carrying a tray. Behind her stood two Jaffa armed with both staff weapons and Zats. The woman crossed the room and silently set the tray on the table. She bowed and left, closing and locking the door behind her.

She crossed the room to investigate the contents of the tray, Picking up an unfamiliar fruit she sniffed it suspiciously. Unlike Daniel, she was wary of trying new foods, especially when they were on alien planets. She reached for the goblet and took a tentative sip. It was water, plain, unadulterated water. She took a drink, suppressing a sigh; she hadn't realized she had been so thirsty. She broke off a piece of bread and chewed it as she paced the small chamber. She wondered if the two Jaffa were permanent fixtures outside her door. "Well duh, Sam! Of course they are," she muttered to herself, running her hand through her hair, as she reviewed her situation.

The only way out was the door, which was heavily guarded. She had no weapon and she noted as she reached to tear off another chunk of bread, there was nothing in the room to fashion one with. Physically, she was no match for the Jaffa, armed or not.

Which left her where? She sank down on the chair. Screwed. That's where it left her.

* * * * * * *

General Hammond looked up at sound of the siren, which signaled gate activation. Since there were no teams off world, it meant there was an incoming traveler. He pushed away from his desk and headed for the control room. The various techs barely acknowledged his presence as they focused on their monitors. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jacob come through the door.

"Report," he barked.

Davis turned. "It's SG-1's code, sir. The new one."

"Open the iris." Hammond said as he and Jacob moved toward the stairway leading down to the gate room.

Several airmen took their positions at the base of the ramp with the rest of their squadron fanning out behind them. They waited tensely as the gate spat out its travelers.

Teal'c landed on the ramp with a solid thud. Shouting for a medic, Hammond and Jacob shouldered their way to the prone man. He was bleeding profusely from a head wound and there were several burns on his back and shoulders.

"What happened, Son?" Hammond asked gently.

"Ambush," Teal'c answered, his voice low. His breathing was shallow as his larva struggled to heal the multiple injuries. "Many Jaffa... Dr. Jackson and Major Carter were taken..." His voice trailed off.

"Taken where?" Jacob demanded as he pushed down a bubble of fear. Dear God, not again, not his baby girl.

"General, sir." Janet pushed them aside as she knelt beside the wounded man. "We need to get him to the infirmary. Now."

"We need answers now!" Jacob Carter spat. Leaning closer to Teal'c, he said, "Where did they take Sam?"

"I need corpsman here now!" Janet's voice penetrated the air. "Gentlemen, he is not going to be able to answer any questions at all if I don't get him to the infirmary." She stepped aside as to allow her team to shift the now unconscious Jaffa onto a gurney.

George lay a hand on his shoulder. "Jacob, let Dr. Fraiser do her job."

Jacob shook off his hand. "Damn it George! He knows where my daughter is..."

"Will he make it?" General Hammond asked as he maneuvered Jacob down the ramp.

"Yes he will. Junior is healing his injuries as we speak. I'll help him along as much as I can, but it will still be several hours before he wakes up." A slight smile played around her lips. "Much quicker than you or I would heal."

"I can't lose her, George. I won't lose her," Jacob snapped sharply as Janet followed the gurney out of the gate room.

"We'll find them, Jacob."

Jacob Carter stood at the bottom of the ramp starring at the silent Stargate. "You know George, sometimes I wish we'd never found this damned thing." He turned and left Hammond standing alone.

"So do I, old friend. So do I."

* * * * * * *

Sam looked up as the young woman entered the room followed once more by the silent Jaffa guard. "Do you know what happened to my friends," she asked.

The girl only shook her head and reached for they tray. "Please," Sam whispered, grabbing her wrists. "Please, are they alive? That's all I want to know."

The girl glanced at the Jaffa and then back at Sam. Keeping her voice low, she answered. "There was only one other with you. He is alive."

"Is he Jaffa?"

"I do not know; I did not see him." She tipped her head to the Jaffa. "I only know what they have said." She pulled free of Sam's grasp as she lifted the tray. "I must go," she said. Without another word, she left the room followed by the two guards.

One of her teammates was here. She was betting it was Daniel. If it had been Teal'c the girl would have known. Teal'c was legend among the Jaffa; to have captured him would have been a coup for Sebni, worthy of celebration.

Teal'c was either dead or he had escaped. Sam prayed he had escaped and was gathering reinforcements at this very moment. She heard voices in the corridor and stiffened. She knew that sooner or later she would be taken somewhere and questioned--or worse. Pushing the chair back she stood as the door swung open to reveal Sebni and the guards.

"You will come with me."

"What if I don't want to?" she asked with a toss of her head.

Before she could anticipate his move, Sebni was across the room and she saw stars and tasted blood as he slapped her with the back of his hand.

"Insolent woman! You would do well to keep that mouth closed when you are brought before our Lord."

Sam wiped a hand across her mouth and tipped her chin up. "Oh, I don't think so," she muttered. She looked at this Jaffa with contempt filled eyes. "Does it make you feel big to strike an unarmed woman? Coward."

The first Prime of Sor'tel gestured to his guards who stepped into the room and grabbed Carter by the upper arms. She struggled against their grips, for she did not intend to go quietly. She kicked at them and snapped at their hands with her teeth. She heard her tee shirt tear as they pulled her forward dragging her across the floor and out into the corridor.

Sebni laughed as she fought the two men. He had to admire her spirit, even if it was misplaced. His lord, Sor'tel would appreciate her warrior nature he knew. Yes, he thought as he followed them, she was worthy of Sor'tel.

A sly smile crossed his face, and perhaps, once his Lord was tired of her, he would give her to Sebni for his own pleasure.

* * * * * * *

Janet looked up as Jacob Carter walked into the darkened room. His eyes were shadowed from lack of sleep, his mouth pinched with worry. She reached out and patted his arm. "Teal'c should be awake in another hour, General Carter. You look like you could use some rest. You can take a nap on that bed over there if you'd like."

"Thanks, but no thanks, Doc." Jacob said as he watched the Jaffa's chest rise and fall.

"Is he asleep or in Kel No Reem?"

"Neither. Both." Janet answered as she reached for Teal'c chart. "It's more of a light coma, a healing sleep, I'd call it. Whatever you call it, it works. I've seen Teal'c recover from severe injuries. The more severe the longer the process takes, but he always heals." She shook her head as she replaced his chart. "I do little more than patch him up and let him sleep."

"I doubt that." Jacob said. "You've saved my daughter's life on more than one occasion. You're a damn good doctor, Doctor."

She smiled at him. "Thank you General, and it's Janet. Now, speaking as a 'damn good doctor', I think you really need some rest, Sir."

"Call me Jacob, Janet," he said.

Janet folded her arms across her chest, a smile twitching at her lips. "Jacob..." she said meaningly.

He looked down at her as she stood there, firm and utterly determined to come out the winner in a contest of command will. "Okay, okay, I'll get some shut eye," he grumbled. He crossed the room and climbed up on the empty bed. "You'll wake me?"

"As soon as Teal'c opens his eyes," Janet answered as she flicked off the light and left the room.

* * * * * * *

Jacob lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. All he could see was Sammie. He could see himself holding her for the first time in the hospital, and on that first Christmas, when they'd been in Texas and later, years later, when she saw her first snowfall. He remembered watching her ride her bike without training wheels for the first time, his heart in his throat... and pacing the floor when she went out on her first date...

He rolled over onto his side and clenched his fist. He also remembered the disappointment in those eyes time and time again when he wasn't there. Those eyes that were so like her mother's. Please, God, he prayed silently, Don't take my little girl away. Not now, not when I've just found her again.

* * * * * * *

Sam fought the guards every inch of the way, down corridor after corridor, past wide eyed servants, her feet connecting more than once with their shins, her teeth breaking the skin of their hands. Once she managed to throw them off balance, long enough to wrench free and make a short-lived dash for freedom.

Her jaw still throbbed from the blow she'd received from Sebni at once she had been caught. Sebni frightened her. He had such, cold, cold eyes that burned with lust when he looked at her. He liked to inflict pain, she'd noticed and he wanted to inflict it on her. Yet, she surmised he was afraid enough of Sor'tel not to damage her, too much.

The guards came to a halt at a set of large golden doors guarded by two of the biggest Jaffa Sam had ever seen. They bowed and moved aside to allow Sebni to enter the chamber, followed by Sam and her guards. The large chamber, decorated in red and black was dark and forbidding, much like the man who sat enthroned on a dais at the end of the room. He was the sole occupant of the room, except for Sam and her escorts. Sam felt her heart begin to pound as her guards dragged her forward.

He lounged on his golden throne, watching with glacial eyes as they brought the woman forward. She was quite beautiful, he thought, would be more so once she was relieved of those unalluring garments she was wearing.

Blue, Sor'tel mused, she would be exquisite in blue. He could see why the body he now inhabited was so attracted to this one. She had fire, strength and spirit. Yes, she would do. For now.

Jack watched, horrified, as the Jaffa brought Sam closer. He struggled to break free, to push the other down to shout at them to let her go. He knew, because he knew the other's thoughts, what was in store for her. Fight, he thought, I must fight; I can't let them hurt her. I will not let them use my body to abuse and degrade her. Oh god, Sam, fight back, please fight back. I will fight from here, but you need to fight back. He's not me; don't ever believe he is me.

Sor'tel slid his gaze over the woman who now stood before him. His eyes flickered to the men who held her. They had bruises on their bodies, the marks the woman had left on them. A vile smile curved his mouth. This one, he thought, would be a challenge to tame; he so loved a challenge.

A frown crossed his face as he saw the bruise forming along her jaw, the blood dried on her mouth. He turned to his First Prime. "She has been marked."

Sebni bowed low. "It was unavoidable, Lord. She resisted us."

Sor'tel nodded, waving a hand to dismiss the Jaffa. "Leave us. I will see to her myself."

As the Jaffa released her and left the chamber, Jack struggled against the other. Run, Sam, run, he tried to yell, but the other pushed him aside. With every hour, the other was getting stronger and Jack knew it was a matter of time before he lost the battle. But not yet, not now, not when Carter needed him. He pushed against the barriers the other had put up, ignoring the pain the other inflicted. All that mattered was Sam, saving Sam.

Sam stood impassively as the Goa'uld rose from his throne, stepping down from the dais coming to a stop in front of her. She raised her chin and met his arrogant stare with defiant eyes. I will not be afraid, she thought, I will not let this Sor'tel win.

She didn't move as he raised one hand, gliding his fingers along her jaw. She bit back a yelp as he pressed the pad of his thumb against the mottled bruise on her jaw. When he laced his fingers in her hair, yanking her head back, pain exploded behind her eyes and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. He pulled her head back even farther until Sam was certain he was going to snap her neck.

But he didn't. Instead, he used his other hand to caress the soft skin of her face before trailing his fingers down her neck, pausing to dip them beneath the tear of her tee shirt. Sam knew he could feel her heart pounding under her skin and cursed her body's reaction as his thumb swept across the swell of her breast.

This is not him, she told herself, even as warmth began to pool in her belly at his touch. It is not him. It the beast within him that is touching you, not the man you know. This is not Colonel O'Neill. Sam tried to distance herself from his touch, from the feel of his warm breath on her cheek as he leaned forward bringing his lips mere inches from her own. She flinched when the raspy voice of Sor'tel came out of that mouth.

"You will do."

Then he spoke in a language Sam didn't understand. She looked into his eyes, so different from the ones she knew, so cold, dead cold. "Yes," the beast said, as hand slipped down her body, coming to rest on her hip. "You will do indeed."

Sam flinched as he pulled her closer, molding her body to his own. Oh god, she thought, he was aroused. She knew in that instant what Sor'tel intended to do to her. She felt his lips brush against hers and travel across her face. Then Jack's voice whispered in her ear. "Forgive me, Sam. Oh God, please forgive me."

* * * * * * *

Sam's eyes widened with shock for a moment, as she pulled back and gazed into the eyes boring into hers. For a moment the light within them died and she saw only the familiar color she'd always known.

"Ja..." she started, but his name drifted from her lips as she watched Sor'tel exude his influence over the colonel once again.

"My name is Sor'tel!" he thundered, grabbing her by the hair and forcing her to look him in the face. "You would do well to remember that."

"Oh, it's obvious who you are," Sam managed through clenched teeth. "If you think you'll get to me by using Colonel O'Neill's body you're wrong."

"Am I?" Sor'tel smirked, releasing her, causing Sam to stumble back a few steps. She made a show of wiping her lips against the back of her hand as she held her head defiantly. "It is no accident I chose you," Sor'tel said, taking a seat on an elaborate throne.

The ornate clothing he wore was at odds with the colonel's usual appearance, and Sam clung to that notion, hoping it would reinforce the idea that this wasn't the man she served with. The man she'd come to have deeper feelings for. This was a snake; evil and insidious. Nothing like the host it inhabited.

"The man you call Colonel O'Neill is strong," Sor'tel continued, running his fingers along the carving of the chair's arm. "He tried to hide it from me, but I know he cares for you deeply." The glowing eyes looked up and met Sam's stare. She could feel the heat rising in her face. She'd barely touched on the emotions herself. It was more than embarrassing having this... creature revealing O'Neill's secret thoughts to her. It was a violation on the deepest level, and she found herself despising the Goa'uld who'd stolen his body even more than she had before.

"What do you want?" Sam asked, standing up straighter.

"I think you know what I want. And I will have it."

Sam forced the bile down her throat. "You'll have to kill me first."

A sick grin bloomed across Sor'tel's face. "That wouldn't be a problem, you know." He cast his gaze to a side chamber, causing Sam to turn. In the alcove an oblong box rested behind a gauzy curtain, and Sam didn't need to see it clearly to know it was a sarcophagus. A shudder ran through her at the thought. She'd seen what it had done to Daniel. What if Sor'tel used it repeatedly on herself? Trying another tactic, Sam attempted to distract Sor'tel from his imminent goal.

"You don't really think Colonel O'Neill is going to allow you attack Earth, do you?"

"My dear, I don't think you realize the extent of my power. Or the control I have over your Colonel. If he was able to influence me, do you think you'd be standing before me now?"

Sam didn't have an argument for him, but she knew what she'd seen and heard--Jack was there for a moment and if there was one moment, there could be more. Perhaps it would take a two-pronged attack. As loathe as she was to succumb to a sexual encounter with Sor'tel, it might distract him enough for the colonel to regain some control over the Goa'uld. She couldn't give in too easily. Sor'tel would suspect some plot. Revulsion wasn't going to be difficult for her to achieve, if indeed she could go through with her plan.

* * * * * * *

Jack felt helpless as he watched his hand reach out and grab Sam by the hair. He knew he--or rather Sor'tel--was hurting her, but he was powerless to stop it, no matter how much he mentally battered on the snake that had invaded his body. He tried not to think too much about it, other than to let it fuel his anger. It was the only thing he had to fight the Goa'uld with. He couldn't afford to be distracted by sympathy. At least he'd been able to apologize to Sam, let her know what plans the damn snake had for her weren't his. He had to be strong. Maybe if he continued to fight Sor'tel, his attention would be divided and he wouldn't hurt Sam. At least not as much as he was capable of. Jack knew the strengths of his own body and what the Goa'uld could do with it if he wished. All he could hope to do was temper that strength when the time came.

*She will be worth the effort,* Jack heard inside his head. *I see why you desire her above all others.*

*She's going to fight you,* Jack thought back at Sor'tel. That was the weirdest feeling of all; that they could share thoughts. At least some. He only had vague ideas about Sor'tel's plans for Earth, but his thoughts about Sam were clear as crystal and he didn't like what he saw.

*I'm counting on it,* Sor'tel said. Jack didn't know how it was possible for a thought to sneered, but somehow the Goa'uld had managed.

The helpless feeling was bad enough, but the knowledge Sor'tel was going to use Jack's own emotions for Sam against both of them, made him furious. Rather then try to quell his anger, Jack concentrated on it, pouring every vile thought he had about the Goa'uld into his mind. For a moment, Sor'tel stumbled, losing his equilibrium slightly has he fought to keep Jack from asserting control over the body.

*It's going to work,* Jack thought, surprised Sor'tel hadn't felt the ripple in his mind. He just couldn't give up.

* * * * * * *

Sam stood before Sor'tel, bathed, scented and dressed in some ridiculous barely-there costume. She felt exposed on more levels than one, but she wouldn't allow the Goa'uld to sense how frightened she was. She thought it might be easy to turn this into a fantasy and believe it really was Jack standing before her. That she could play the part she needed to, convincingly. But Sor'tel's presence had cruelly distorted Jack's features. Any of the warmth and humor that Jack normally emanated was gone. It was almost as if this version was the proverbial 'evil twin', and it caused Sam to shiver.

"Are you cold, my dear?" Sor'tel asked, circling her like the prey she was.

"A little," she admitted. And she was chilled. Not from the cool room but from the thought of what Jack was going through. She knew what it had been like to be held prisoner within her own body, watching it move without her command. For someone who despised the Goa'uld as much as the colonel did, this had to be hell.

"Then let me warm you," Sor'tel said, grabbing Sam by the shoulders, roughly pulling her to him. His lips descended on hers in a bruising kiss, and Sam couldn't help stiffening on contact with his body. This wasn't Jack, this wasn't the man who invaded her thoughts in private moments, but she couldn't struggle against him. She had to let Sor'tel think he was winning her over.

"You are exquisite," Sor'tel's whispered against her neck. Sam squeezed her eyes shut, wishing he wouldn't speak to her in Jack's distorted voice. His attention on her body was moving south and it was all she could do not to cringe as a placed a kiss between her breasts. Summoning all her strength she stepped closer to him, running her hands along the length of his torso. There were no guards in the room, so she assumed he would be armed in some capacity. On his right hip she felt the hilt of what she assumed was a knife, but before she could grasp the hilt, Sor'tel was grasping her wrist, pulling her hand away.

"Ah, ah," he said, pinning her arm behind her. "You don't want me to think you'd try to deceive me, now would you, my sweet?" Sam managed a small smile as Sor'tel's face moved closer to hers. For a moment, the light in his eyes died and she knew Jack had gained the upper hand over the Goa'uld. She also knew she had only seconds to act. Wrenching her hand from where Sor'tel had held it behind her back, Sam reached out and grabbed the knife.

"Use it!" Jack yelled, his hoarse voice betraying the struggle he was facing. She couldn't do it. She couldn't look into Jack's eyes and stab the knife into him, even if it meant getting away.

"Please, Sam. I'm already worse than dead!"

His eyes were pleading and she couldn't help herself. She pulled him closer, kissing him deeply. It wasn't the kiss she'd dreamed of from him. It should have been a beginning, the promise of something more, not an end. Kissing him one last time she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Jack," and plunged the knife into his back.

* * * * * * *

The mirage of emotions and images pervaded Sam's mind as she was roughly jerked back into her cell, the dank and smelly atmosphere lost as she existed only as a shell of a person in her own torturous Hell.

With the guards gone, Sam was left with no other distraction, no other way to penetrate and relieve her of the horrific Technicolor.

//"Use it!"//

//"Please Sam. I'm already worse than dead!"//

//"I'm so sorry, Jack."//

The burn of their lips that had briefly cemented everything and anything that they might have been, was rapidly etching itself firmly into her brain. But what might have been a tender, almost bittersweet exchange of feelings was sullied by the gravity of the situation, and no amount of solace would be found.

Any chance of escape had been futile; the minute Sam had let the hilt of the knife fall from her grasp, Sor'tel had yelled his rage, alerting the guards maintaining close vigil of their lord just outside the door. The voice of pain oscillated between the distorted tinny echo, to the struggled, almost desperate tone of O'Neill's.

Outraged and slightly bewildered at their master's deception, the guards showed little mercy, hurling Sam back to the cell, no doubt awaiting punishment for her actions.

But Sam didn't really care.

She didn't care what they did to her, what they said or made her say, what they'd do to break her spirit.

Because Sam realized there was little they could do that could possibly amount to the sheer desperation she was in. There was nothing they could do.

Nothing she could do to save any of them.

* * * * * * *

Feeling the nausea hit him like a tidal wave, Jack O'Neill struggled to remain onto the small fraction of sanity that was left in his otherwise occupied mind. Sor'tel was strong, that he knew, but Sam's actions had weakened him, the excruciating pain reducing the Goa'uld's hold over him, and that thought enough was enough to stem the desperation, for now.

His body felt foreign, an unsettling sensation remained at the fore of both his and the Goa'uld's minds, but he couldn't locate the source. He'd heard the guards, watched through tainted eyes as they roughly pulled her away and no doubt back to the cells, and his only misery was that she hadn't succeeded; she hadn't escaped.

And she hadn't been able to release him from this prison in his own body.

But still, his influence seemed to be accumulating, the symbiote distracted, and Jack could sense an unerring dread seep into his meager collection of thoughts. Sor'tel was panicking, something was wrong.

But Jack just couldn't fathom exactly what.

* * * * * * *

The splinter of light assaulted Sam's eyes as the door was opened, and squinting against the harsh brightness she witnessed Daniel's familiar form being thrown effortlessly to the floor. With the sneer of contempt from the guards as a farewell, they left, and Sam scooted over to his body, her own turmoil relegated to the back of her mind.

Daniel's right arm lay at an odd angle, limp against his chest, his face almost unrecognizable through the purple mottling of bruises and blood smearing this way and that across the features.

"Daniel?" Her voice cracked, Sam prayed Daniel was conscious and coherent, her voice lilting with concern.

"Oh God..." Daniel's mewl of pain was a relief to Sam's ears, and she quickly tended as best she could to his arm, dissuaded only by Daniel's vociferate gritted requests for her to do otherwise.

"My God Daniel, what did they do to you?" His face carefully tilted from left to right in her ministrations, Sam was appalled further by the sheer brutality of the guards against Daniel.

"This is nothing, you should see what I did to the other guy." Daniel joked weakly, the humor lost in the smothering blanket of obvious pain.

"What did you do?" Try as she might, Sam wasn't able to keep the reproach out of her voice.

"Nothing. They just came in and dragged me out as they put you back in here. I tried calling out to you, but you didn't hear me, Sam. Just what the hell happened to *you*?" His good arm gestured to the dimly illuminated remnants of her 'costume', the material ripped and torn in the struggle, revealing a hell of a lot more than it actually covered in the first place. The normal sense of shyness and embarrassment at being so exposed was a trite, superfluous, reaction given the events and circumstances, and Sam paid little heed to it.

"I'm fine, Daniel, really."

"Don't lie to me, Sam. How's Jack?" The honest pleading in Daniel's voice heralded a restrained stifle from Sam.

"It's not good, Daniel, he's been taken over by the Goa'uld Sor'tel. I tried to escape, but... I managed to wound Sor'tel..." Instead of faltering and recognizing the dual personality, Sam felt safer to refer to them as Sor'tel, for it was *Sor'tel* she injured, *Sor'tel* that the blow was intended for.

"How?"

"I used his knife, a blow to the back." Short, static, and as unemotive as she could muster.

"They'll use the sarcophagus," Daniels stated sagely, ignoring his own pain for a second as his eyes flickered to Sam's. "But at least it's bought us some more time."

"To do what? You've seen how heavily fortified this place is Daniel, we've no GDO, and our codes have been changed. We haven't got a hell's chance of getting the Colonel and ourselves out of here alive. I may have bought us a few more hours at best Daniel, but look at yourself..." She gestured to his face and shattered arm. "... they did that because of me; instead of punishing me they're going to punish you, and I'm not going to risk that again."

"Sam, listen to me--if you get the chance to escape, you *have* to take it. Don't worry about me, I'm hard to kill." Daniel added with a wry smile.

"No. No one gets left behind Daniel. We made that mistake the first time round, and there is not a chance in hell I'm going to make that mistake again."

* * * * * * *

Groggily, the eyes of Jack O'Neill opened slowly; the soft brown quickly defaced with the unnatural glow as the Goa'uld regained momentary control. He lay stiff and still in the enclosed confinements of the sarcophagus, neither sentient beings making any attempt to move from within it.

The uneasy and troubled symbiote pushed back Jack's attempts of a struggle, but even repressed Jack understood that Sor'tel was having to spend more effort in keeping him restrained. Even though he felt mentally exhausted, Jack continued to prod around his own mind, slowly gaining a fraction of himself at a time.

*You will do well to cease this absurd attempt at fighting me!* He heard the echo resonate around his head, and despite the venom in the words, Jack could sense the undertone of worry in the Goa'uld. Powered by this, he utilized his momentum, waging a war against his own mind and filling it with nonsensical sludge to confuse and irritate the Goa'uld simultaneously.

*Kree!*

*Kree this, asshole,* Jack felt himself reply as his arm jerkily moved of his volition. The sensation was peculiar, his arm heavy as if made of lead, and the movements clumsy. But it didn't matter, it was a small victory.

"Hara kree!" At their master's harsh bark, the guards moved a struggling human to it, a blow to the back of the knees forcing them to the floor in an abject and humiliating mockery of reverence.

Jack watched, curious and concerned at the look of terror on the face in front of him, the eyes boring into his as he heard the familiar grumble of the symbiote in his head.

*Do not think this is a victory, O'Neill. You and your friends will pay dearly for what you have done to me; your death will be a long time in coming to bring you any kind of relief for your insolence!*

The pain that had signaled the entrance of the symbiote was true to its exit. With a sickening shudder, he felt control return to his debilitated form, the aches and throbbing sensations now his for the suffering without the numbing 'protection' of Sor'tel. Head thrown back, he emitted a hoarse cry, drowned out only by the shrieks of the exposed symbiote and the accompanying screams of its new host.

* * * * * * *

"It's quiet down here."

Pulled back into reality by Daniel's observations, Sam nodded in agreement--the guards hadn't troubled them in what felt like a few hours. Something was wrong.

"Maybe they've decided that we--" Sam's answer was cut short by the ironic arrival of the guards, the heavy door opening and permitting another figure into the dank smelling cell and onto the floor.

Prior experience had taught Sam and Daniel to wait for the guards to leave completely before they went to discover the identity of their new inmate. Waiting a few seconds for the heavy frog-march of metal boots against the stone floor to dissipate down the outside corridor, they advanced, startled when they recognized the all-too-familiar groaning.

"If anyone asks me if I'm okay, I will break their kneecaps."

"Colonel!" Before Daniel even had the time to register exactly what was happening, Sam had already launched herself to the body at the doorway, restraining his hands as she checked him over for injuries and the unmistakable traces of naquada and symbiote.

"It's gone, Carter." He stopped her hands mid-sweep with a clumsy hand, holding her eyes with his penetrating brown gaze. "Turns out my brain isn't the nicest of spaces to rent." The thin joke gave Daniel time to move himself over to them, regarding Jack with curious eyes.

"Jack?"

"It's me, Daniel, it's me."

"Uh, the symbiote?"

The reply was delayed by a brief coughing fit, punctuated by winces as Jack obviously aggravated the laceration in his throat from the symbiote's exit. Sam's gaze never left his, startled and understandably confused, she patiently waited for the coughing to subside.

"Taken a new host." Jack gasped, gulping the foul, stale, air greedily.

"Why?"

With an almost imperceptible flicker from Sam's eyes, Jack declined to answer, instead trying to seat himself. Aided by Sam, and Daniel as best he could, they managed to get Jack leaning against the damp wall. Waiting for him to continue, Sam resumed her search for injuries.

"Colonel, can you stand?" Alarmed by how heavy Jack had been in their arms, Sam's gaze swept from Jack's to his legs, noticing how awkward they lay on the floor, as if...

"I can't feel my legs." The Colonel admitted quietly, eyes lowered as an eyebrow raised itself.

Sam felt the sickening return of the bile in her throat, she had no idea she'd managed to stab him so close to his spine. But surely it wasn't enough to cause paralysis of his legs? Not to mention the healing powers of the symbiote and sarcophagus?

"It's not your fault, Carter." Jack's enunciated his words carefully, and with heartfelt conviction as he returned his gaze back to Sam's.

"But... the symbiote? The sarcophagus... why didn't it repair the damage to your back? I don't understand."

"Neither do I. But Sor'tel's weak, I know that much. Before he took the other host I was able to regain control of my arms, and his influence was losing its grip. Maybe he thought getting another host would be less problematic?"

"No, that doesn't make sense. Entering a host will weaken a symbiote as it has to spend energy taking control. Why bother to leave a host and enter a fresh one? The whole point of this was to manipulate us for our... friendship... with you, make it as difficult as possible for us." Sam dropped her gaze from Jack's, painfully feeling how minimal, yet inappropriate, the space was between them--she was using sheer willpower not to rest her hand on his in a meager show of affection and comfort.

"What if the symbiote is weak anyway?" Daniel suggested, unwittingly breaking Sam and Jack's uncomfortable memories. "What if its ability to heal is less than those we've encountered before?"

"What, you're saying I got the runt of the litter? Gee Daniel, thanks for making me feel so special." Jack grimaced as he shifted slightly.

"Colonel, I'm no doctor, but basic knowledge of the human anatomy tells me that I didn't stab you near your spine. I can't see a logical reason for your legs to be paralyzed."

"Neither can I. But this helps Sor'tel just dandy--I'm not exactly in a position to make a break out of here, and he reasons that with me incapacitated, you'll stay too."

"Of course!" Daniel stated, slightly disappointed that Jack would think otherwise.

"Which is exactly why you've got to go. Now." Jack ordered with grit determination, flicking his eyes from Sam's to Daniel's in defiance of their arguments otherwise.

"But Jack..."

"Damnit Daniel, I'm not exactly in any position to *walk* out of here, and I doubt either of you two could carry me. This is the plan, and I'll make sure you damn well follow it, even if it's the last thing I do."

Disgusted, Daniel picked himself up off the floor and walk over to the far wall, avoiding either Sam's or Jack's gaze. "Jack, it probably *will* be the last thing you do."

The atmosphere tense, Sam swallowed past the awkward lump in her throat, trying to bring reason to the situation. "Colonel, I really don't think that--"

"No, Carter." His voice was still as adamant, but somewhat quieter and softer, catching Sam off guard. "I don't want what I've been through to have been in vain. Please don't argue with me on this."

He wasn't ordering, instructing or commanding. He was asking.

Asking her to leave him behind. Again.

"What's the plan?" Her voice remained as neutral as possible, and even Daniel seemed perplexed at Sam's sudden change of heart, and returned to his place next to Jack.

Waiting for Daniel to resume his seated position, Jack looked from Sam to Daniel, concise and efficient in his words. "Okay, here's what you're going to do..."

* * * * * * *

The brickwork was starting to let its dampness seep through to Sam's back, and she had to push herself further up on her feet, her calf muscles complaining. She pressed closer to the wall and briefly closed her eyes at the sounds of Daniel struggling with Jack's heavy weight behind her.

"Jack..."

"Rrrfff... Daniel... you're gonna need to do it for me for cryin..."

Sam briefly glanced over her shoulder, and saw Daniel's grimace as he held Jack against the wall with one hand and moved his legs for him with the other. After Jack had outlined his plan they'd waited for the guards to pass again, and worryingly Jack's health had seemed to deteriorate over the last hour or so. Sam wanted to put his fatigue and weakness down to the aftermath of being possessed by the Goa'uld, remembering how she was affected... but something niggled at her... and she felt something else was wrong.

Jack wiped a hand over his bleary eyes, and waved Daniel away, bracing himself steady with his arms. Daniel joined Sam at the door as they awaited the guards. They weren't sure if the guards patrolled regularly or not, but they planned to wait until they passed again, and attract their attention. The guards had zats, and Jack's plan was to try a subtle variation on the old 'lure-the-guard-in-the-door-and-disarm-him' trick. It wasn't a great plan as plans went, but it seemed their only choice. The door was huge and thick and there was no way they could break it down, and Sam was nervous, adamant they get Jack home as soon as possible.

"Where the hell are those guards?" groused Jack from the back of the cell, and Sam craned her neck and peered out of the bars of the cell door.

"Nothing yet," she informed him, and then frowned, looking towards the outside of the door.

"Hmm..."

"What?" demanded Jack, and Daniel pushed up on his toes beside her to see.

"It's not even securely locked..." she muttered to Daniel, but Jack instantly took umbrage at being left out, and tried to push himself further up, straining to see.

"What?" he moaned, and Sam peeled herself away from her study of the door to glance back in his direction.

"The door... I'm pretty sure I can let us out... I just need..." Again Sam turned back to the door, pointing something out to Daniel, and Jack flopped back against the wall, shaking his head.

"Figures I guess. They don't expect much trouble from two cripples and a woman... no offence Carter."

"None taken sir, now if I only had..."

"How 'bout this?" They both turned to see Jack brandishing a long, thin stick, twirling it in his hand with a twisted smile.

* * * * * * *

Sam silently reproached herself for not checking the door sooner as they made slow progress along the dark, lazily twisting corridor. It hadn't been easy, but with the Colonel's stick, a loop of wire and two pairs of arms working together, they'd manage to open the door from the inside. It had let out a terrible creak that made them huddle in the darkness, but a second later they had hefted Jack and left, locking the door behind them to satisfy some twisted urge of the Colonel. Still, they had escaped the cell, which was a start.

The ruined temple was eerily quiet, obviously no-one had expected them to escape, which Sam found ludicrous. Still, all the other cells they passed were empty, so perhaps the guards were inexperienced with prisoners. Sam didn't think it said much about Sor'tel's little operation here.

They continued on in what they thought was a southerly direction, and Daniel seemed to be following his nose. They made very slow progress, and soon the Colonel's weight was almost too much to bear.

A small intersection forced decisions upon them, and realising they probably wouldn't make it out of the temple that night, they opted for the smaller, seemingly less used corridor that sloped downwards. Webs hung across the damp, narrow walls, and standing water sloshed around their boots where the worn floor dipped low.

Again they followed Daniel's nose, and he led them down and around, and out of nowhere appeared a wrecked door hanging from its hinges. Sam hefted all of Jack's weight, and Daniel quickly slipped inside, then called the all clear, and soon they were settled.

It was cold in the small, dark room, but this only served to assure Sam that they were unlikely to be found. The storage packages in the corner had not been touched for some time, and there was no heating or lighting. The perfect place.

She tried to settle, tried to sleep crouched against the wall, but the continuous fidgeting by the Colonel would not allow her to rest. She knew what he was feeling, knew what he was going though, but nothing she could say would help him get through this any the quicker. He was mumbling under his breath, words and phrases alien to Sam, and she wondered how much of the Goa'ulds knowledge he might have been privy to for that short time. What worried her the most however were his legs. There didn't seem to be anything obviously wrong, and she was convinced the now healed stab wound was not to blame. The only thing she could think of was that the Goa'uld had caused nerve damage to either the Colonel's spine or brain as it left him. It was not a happy thought.

Still, tomorrow they would find the gate, and get the Colonel home where they could help him. Glancing over her shoulder again the Colonel's pale face stood out in sharp contrast to the dark walls. With a sigh, Sam gazed at the rise and fall of his chest for a few more minutes just to convince herself he would still be there in the morning.

He had to be.

* * * * * * *

"Look after him." Sam said over her shoulder, and slipped from the room. Daniel smiled at her concern, then pressed the nearly empty canteen to Jack's lips, trying to make him drink. He seemed terribly dehydrated, his lips dry, and Daniel was worried by his pale features. They had woken early the next morning, and Jack, the only one not to have taken a shift on watch, seemed more the worse for wear than the others. There was no sudden jerk into consciousness which they had all gotten used to by now, instead he groaned and blinked, mumbling until Sam's cool hand on his hot forehead brought him slowly to full alertness. There was a little food still in Daniel's pack, and they ate sparingly before Sam left.

Leaving Jack in Daniel's hands, Sam pulled her jacket tight and carefully eased herself out the door. She headed back up to the area with the cells to begin her search for the 'front door'. She was starting to think this place was a maze, when she came upon a body, tucked into the shadows of a wide corridor. She froze, and made sure she was alone, then quickly pressed herself against the wall, and slid up to the corpses side.

The dead guard was lying twisted on the cold stone floor, the look of horror on his face reminded Sam of many deaths she had seen before. Death by hand device... not a nice way to go. He wondered briefly if this was the guard responsible for keeping them in their cell. Still, after a quick search the guard provided her with a valuable gift. A zat. Grinning she scooped up the weapon and trotted up the stairs, finding herself in a hall, into which spilled natural light from broad ceiling to floor windows. At last she had found a way out.

She crept cautiously forward, zat extended, and was relieved to see only trees and bushes outside the windows, and the feel of fresh air on her face did much to bolster her hope. She was almost emboldened enough to make for the door, but a sudden tickle up her spine stopped her, and in good time.

Sam instinctively tensed and crouched, as three figures stepped down from the broad steps flanking the doorway, that led off to as yet unexplored rooms. She glanced quickly over her shoulder, and when the way back still appeared clear she took a step backwards, eyes on the figures silhouetted by the morning light.

"Well what have we here?" The voice was low, thick, and unfamiliar. It had undertones that Sam didn't like; control and intimated power. A casual wave of the man's hand and the two guards slunk into darkness and disappeared, and he stepped forward into the light. The face was unfamiliar to Sam, but a brief flash of glowing white, and she knew just who she was speaking to.

"Sor'tel."

"You are correct. Did you think me gone? No... I simply chose to appropriate another host. My previous host was... weak... substandard." He fluidly moved down the steps, and showed a mouthful of perfect teeth in a brown, plain face. Sam's jaw reflexively tightened at the slur on Jack's name, but she remained silent, zat trained on Sor'tel's chest.

"You think you have escaped? From your cell perhaps... but I do not see you getting far with a cripple."

"What did you do to him?" She demanded, finger tightening on the trigger, and the Goa'uld merely smiled, and took another step closer.

"Nothing much... merely a lesson to quieten him. He will be my prize, and my reward will be great."

"Reward?"

"Yes, my reward. When I deliver O'Neill of the Tau'ri to my brethren system lords, my position among them will be reinstated." Lost in his own thoughts of his triumph, Sor'tel eyes scanned the vaulted roof, and Sam sneered and moved another step backwards. So Sor'tel had once been a Goa'uld of some power. He must have fallen far to be the lord of a ruin on a small time planet of little importance. Sam grated to think of him using her CO as a bargaining tool to achieve more power.

"So little Tau'ri, you will now take me to my prize, and I shall be praised and raised on high when I deliver this little nuisance and his friends to my peers. If only I could have walked among them with O'Neill as my host, but that was not to be. Still, he will be my prisoner."

"You'll never take him captive again Sor'tel, I promise you that." Sam spoke through gritted teeth, inwardly seething at the thought of Sor'tel parading around in the Colonel's body.

"I see you defend him as much as he you. Pathetic humans, always scrabbling about in the dirt, with their pointless little lives and loves."

Sam bristled at the arrogance that emanated from the Goa'uld, and held her head high, zat still in steady hands. Their lives were not pointless, and neither were their loves. A brief image of the injured and weak Colonel flashed into her mind, and she felt her resolve strengthen, and her desire to see him back to his own self. She needed him... needed him to be there with her.

A chuckle from Sor'tel snapped her attention back to the here and now, and she knew her mind had been wandering, and it seemed the Goa'uld was well aware of that fact... and the subject of her thoughts.

"Foolish Tau'ri. Your love for him is as useless as the love he has for you. I saw that much in him. I am glad to be free of his mind with its weak feelings and fears. To think I thought him a strong man, a worthy host. Instead all his thoughts and worries amount to his fear of rejection by you. You are all weak."

Suddenly close, Sortel's hand shot out, fingers closing on the end of the zat, pulling it free from Sam's fingers. She quickly gave up the weapon as Sor'tel tried to drag her towards him with it, and so missed the first strike of the Goa'ulds hidden knife.

"Raaah," came a scream of rage, and Sam twisted away, surprised at the slowness of the Goa'uld. There was more going on with him than met the eye. Taking her advantage she whirled and pressed a boot to his midsection, and he folded and crumpled against the wall, eyes flashing briefly, and a clatter drew her eyes downward. The knife. The very knife she had used against him earlier, and he had obviously intended to use on her in revenge.

Steeling herself, she dived for the blade and scooped it up in her hands, and when Sor'tel rose again with a feral scream, she lunged at him, and left the long, wicked knife thrust deep between his ribs. His eyes bulged at her, fingers clasped around the knife he held within himself, and Sam turned on her heels and ran. She could hear guards in the halls and she pelted full speed, retracing her path. Her footsteps sounded a strange counterpoint to the scream of rage and pain which followed her through the corridors and halls, with a promise of revenge.

* * * * * * *

A vague murmuring in the background eventually persuaded Teal'c to open his eyes, and slowly blurred shapes sharpened into faces he knew.

"General Hammond!" He whispered through a strangely thick throat, and at once restraining hands pushed him flat, and with a sigh he accepted the poor comfort of the infirmary bed. Doctor Frasier checked machines around her, and Teal'c took a brief moment to compose himself, and gave thanks that he had reached the SGC... he was home.

"Teal'c, son... what happened?" The General leaned over the bed, his hand closing around Teal'c's shoulder, concern etched on his face. Concern and questions.

"We tried to recover O'Neill, but there was an ambush... and the others were captured. I managed to escape, but I do not believe the others made it..." Teal'c stopped in the middle of his sentence, face contorted and troubled as memories washes over him. He saw it again in his head, watched the terrible replay of the Goa'uld take Jack by force and he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of his bed, his eyes tracked on the floor.

Faces paled in the room, and the General sucked on his cheeks before glancing at his CMO.

"Teal'c, this is important... are you sure?"

"I am. I observed the process myself. By this time Major Carter and Daniel Jackson will either be dead or have symbiotes themselves. You cannot trust them. You cannot allow them to return."

* * * * * * *

Daniel held up his hand and Sam held Jack up against the wall, supporting his weight as Daniel briefly scouted ahead. The Colonel grunted in her arms, and she shifted his dead weight, trying his name to attempt to get his full attention, but he simply mumbled, and his eyes drifted shut. Shortly Daniel reappeared and they moved on, their progress laboriously slow as they picked their way through the corridors as quietly as they could.

When Sam had returned from her confrontation with Sor'tel, they had decided to take their chances and find a way out while Jack could still aid them. Sor'tel knew they were free, and their chances of escaping unheeded were growing smaller with each passing moment.

"Which way?" whispered Daniel, and Sam rested a now almost incoherent Jack against the wall as she pointed.

"Keep to the left for now. After the large corridor we'll stick to the right. There must be another way out, the door I saw will probably be guarded now."

Daniel nodded, then came and took one of Jack's arms, and they moved on. They were both worried about the Colonel, but seeing Daniel shoot him fretful looks didn't give Sam any confidence.

At the intersection before the hall where Sam had encountered Sor'tel, they took a right turn, and found themselves in a short corridor, with large doors at the end. Daniel supported Jack as Sam headed forward, and tested one door. It swung open easily. Frighteningly easily. Outside the corridor was dark, but at the far end to the right, there was a window set into the curved wall, and a patch of welcoming, cheery sunlight dappled the grey stone floor. Beyond, Sam could see the edge of a door around the corner. She didn't like it, but she was well aware they had no choice and even less time.

Daniel manoeuvred Jack through the door, and they began their slow but buoyed progress to the window. Only once they had reached the door at the far end did they realise their mistake. The door was open, the grass and trees outside welcoming, but in front of the door stood two guards, and between stood Sor'tel, his arms cradling his chest, rage on his face.

"You!" he cursed, and the guards instantly raised their weapons. How they had had the bad luck to chance upon the Goa'uld again they did not know. He was not waiting for them, more likely he himself was preparing to leave. Daniel instantly tensed and shouldered Jack, and Sam pressed close to her semi-conscious CO's side, her zat hidden behind her back.

The first guard lunged towards Daniel, staff weapon outstretched. "Daniel!" Sam called, and shoved the Colonel to one side. Daniel moved as well, and as Jack slumped boneless towards the floor Sam whipped her zat forward, and took down the guard who was bearing down on Daniel. The guard fell heavily and Daniel twisted out from under him, scrambling out of the way and grabbing the fallen guards weapon. Sor'tel growled in anger and the second guard loosed a shot Sam's way, which went narrowly wide. Enraged, Sor'tel clubbed at the guard and brought his hand up, hand weapon glistening as he stepped forward, focusing on Daniel.

Daniel tried to squirm away but he was caught in Sor'tel's power, and Sam quickly zatted the second stumbling guard before turning and squeezing off another blast in Sor'tel's direction. The blast froze Sor'tel, and then he reeled, Daniel's staff weapon blast ripping through his side, which dropped him to the ground, keening in pain. Sam quickly delivered secondary zat blasts to the two guards and they were stilled. Turning she moved quickly to check on Jack as Daniel jogged over to look down on a writhing Sor'tel. The Goa'uld was wounded terribly, and Daniel doubted that snake, least of all one already as weak and wounded as Sor'tel could repair the damage done to his host.

Still wary however, and strangely reluctant to shoot the defenceless enemy, Daniel bound the Goa'uld to the broad pipes hugging the wall by his wrists, and withdrew the wicked looking knife from his waistband. A knife that was very familiar to Sam. With a last look of disgust he hurried to Jack's side. Things didn't look good. They had made it to the way out, mortally wounded the Goa'uld, and now it looked like Jack was going to die here, far from the gate.

"Sam?"

"Daniel... I... I don't know what to do... he's... he's dying..."

Daniel crouched by his friends side, and listened as his breath rattled pitifully in his chest. Jack's face was beyond pale, and his pulse was so weak, Sam didn't know how long he had left.

"What did you do to him?" Daniel demanded of the Goa'uld, jerking to his feet, fists clenched. Sor'tel emitted a choking laugh, and Daniel stepped closer, anger contorting his features.

"What did you do to him?"

"I punished him."

"You've killed him."

"And you have killed me. You are revenged." Sor'tel coughed, blood staining his lips, and Daniel took a deep breath, calming himself. This was not working, he had to try another tact.

"Can't you heal your host?" he asked, lacing his voice with disgust, and the Goa'uld affected a wry smile.

"I... am weak."

"What did the system lords do to you?"

"I was... punished. I was removed from my host, and they... damaged me. I am not whole. I am ruined."

"And soon you'll be dead." Instead of laughing and gloating this time, Sor'tel appeared to catch something in Daniel's voice, and when he looked up, he appeared stronger, eyes glittering in the dim light from the single window.

"Perhaps. Perhaps you will have need of me yet."

"I don't think so..." sneered Daniel, looking away, but Sor'tel pressed on.

"I am weak yes, but I am still stronger than any of you. My brothers saw to it that I could not take hosts without cost. I am... deformed... and my ability to overpower a host easily has left me. Each day proves a struggle for me with all but the weakest of hosts... and thus is how they wanted it. They wanted me kept alive, but less than what I was, and they succeeded. I must change host often, but now I feel my end is indeed upon me."

"That's why you wanted the Colonel as a host. If you walked in there with him, not only would you have brought them someone they wanted, but you would be showing them how strong you are," added Sam, looking up from her place by her Colonel's side.

"How?" asked Daniel, unsure.

"She is correct. He is... strong of will... and for a short time I had him. If I could have walked in there in that body... my position would have been secured. Now, as we briefly lived together, we shall die together! Unless... I would let you escape, *help* you escape if you would but carry me..."

"Excuse me?" asked Daniel, glaring down at the snake, arms folded across his chest.

"I would leave you willingly once we have escaped... I promise you..."

Daniel opened his mouth to crush any pathetic hopes the Goa'uld had about leaving this place alive, especially with one of them as a host, when a groan from behind him brought his attention to Jack who has finally regained consciousness.

"Uhn..."

"Sir! It's Carter sir, can you hear me?"

"Ah Carter... I... ah jeez it hurts..."

"I know sir... you... you have to hang on..."

"I... I'd like to Major, but I... I don't know if that's possible..."

"Please sir.."

"C'mon Carter... what's my chances huh?"

"Sir... I... we don't have time to find the sarcophagus..."

"And I'm a burden... you have to go and leave me..."

Sam shook her head and carefully rested a hand on Jacks thigh. He had to glance at it and imagine the warmth and gentle pressure which he could no longer feel.

"There's another way," she said softly, eyes flicking to the corner, and Jack's eyes widened. His face took on a look of disbelief, and he tried to shuffle upright, hauling on a pant leg to drag his legs with him.

"Carter, before you even start..."

"Sir, Sor'tel is weaker now than before, and you beat it before." Sam tried to reason with the Colonel, but his face was set in anger, nostrils flared, and Daniel's face was tinted with disgust.

"Carter..."

"Sir, listen to me, he's at our mercy. You heard him he'd do anything to escape, I'm sure we could persuade him to..."

"I don't... care Carter... nothing is worth putting that damn thing back inside my head," mumbled Jack, his words becoming slurred, face paling by the second. Daniel had to clutch at his shoulders now to keep him upright, the wall taking most of his weight, legs folded awkwardly, uselessly under him. "Don't... don't do it Carter... that's... uhn... dammit that's an order!"

"Sir..." Carter tried a last plea, but though Jack's lips moved, eyebrows furrowed, no sound came out. The weight of his pain and weakness finally pressed in on him, and his eyes fluttered closed. Daniel carefully eased his dead weight down the wall, arranging his legs for him, letting his head slip onto his shoulder. Daniel pressed his fingers against Jack's throat and let out a sigh. He was hanging on...

... but only just.

Sam scooted across the floor to Daniel's side, glancing back over her shoulder at the incapacitated Goa'uld tied to the pipes. Daniel tipped his head back, grimace set on his face. It wasn't that he didn't trust Sam, he did... implicitly... but he knew Sam was going to try and persuade him; he also knew what Jack had said... had ordered.

"Daniel, this might be the only way to save him."

Daniel's face was pale, and thoughtful. He was the only member of SG-1 not to have gone through being a host, but he knew the aftermath both the Colonel and Sam had endured, and he did not want anyone to go through this if he could help it. But these were desperate times, and they had to resort to desperate measures.

"Daniel?"

"Sam, Jack wouldn't want this..." He tried, feebly, but really he wanted Sam to convince him this was the right thing to do.

"Daniel, I know that, I've been there remember? But I recovered, and so will he. Could you forgive yourself if we let him die rather than try and save him?" Daniel bit his lip and thought, then simply nodded. He knew Sam was right, but he also knew what Jack's reaction would be. Still, the choice was in their hands, and the only real choice was to try and save his life. Regardless of the method, they owed it to him to at least try.

Sor'tel's host gurgled in the corner, blood now trickling steadily from the corner of his mouth, and Sam quickly moved to the corner, and met his weakly glowing eyes.

"Sor'tel, listen to me. If we let you briefly use the Colonel as a host, could you heal him?"

"I could. The damage is not irreversible, but I am weak. He would fight me."

"He's also weak. Could you do it?"

"Yes... but then we shall go to a location of my choosing."

"Sor'tel..."

"Or there will be no bargain! If you help me regain my position I give you my word that I will release him!"

They didn't believe him, not for a second, and with a tip of her head Daniel joined Sam in the opposite corner, out of the ranger of Sor'tel's ears.

"He's a liar."

"Of course he's lying Daniel, he's a Goa'uld, but what choice do we have?"

"Sam, when he gets control of Jack..."

"He might not, he said it himself he's weak. After he's healed the Colonel he will be weaker still. The Colonel beat him once he can do it again, and this time it should be easier."

"Jack will be weaker too."

"I know Daniel, but if we don't the Colonel will die. Whatever Sor'tel did to him we can't help. We have to keep him alive Daniel, and this is the only way to do it."

"Jack said no." Sam sighed. She'd had this argument internally already, and saving the Colonel's life had won. Now she just had to convince Daniel, and she could see by his furrowed brows as he watched the Colonel, that he wanted to be convinced.

"I know he did Daniel... but this could save him, I know it could."

Daniel thought hard for a minute, lips pressed together, but he had already decided. When he looked back up at Sam she nodded, smiled and then touched the Colonel's face, making a silent promise to him that she's save his life, whatever it took. Even if it meant disobeying his command.

* * * * * * *

Neither Sam nor Daniel could watch as the snake slithered it's way down the chest of its now dead host and started across the floor, its journey slow, its body twisted and malformed. The runt of the litter indeed. Jack twitched as the symbiote touched his boot, as if somewhere under that murk of pain and confusion he could sense it... sense the approach of his worst nightmare... for a second time in as many days.

Daniel forced himself to look as the snake somehow managed to climb Jack's chest, it's mouth hanging open, and it paused at Jack's neck, rattled its spines warily, then reconsidered. In a flash it had forced its way into his mouth. Jack's whole body came alive as if he'd been shocked, and all Sam and Daniel could do was to hold him, comfort him, as he screamed again and again, as hell came down upon him.

A mere hour later and Jack was quieter, but they watched as he struggled for his life every second, eyes flashing briefly white, then returning to tortured brown, then closing, screwed up in pain. It was hard to watch, but Sam told herself again and again that they were doing the right thing. They had to be.

"Is it working?" Sam shrugged her shoulders briefly in Daniel's direction, then again carefully wiped a damp rag across Jack's forehead. His features were twisted, muscles in his face jumping, hands and fingers leaping seemingly of their own accord.

"He's still so weak."

"Sam... he beat the snake once, he can do it again," Daniel assured her, squeezing her shoulder, and she smiled, wishing she could believe those words as easily as Daniel said them.

"Rrrrrrrrr," Jack growled, his eyes again lit from within, then fading quickly to a dull, tired brown. He stiffened suddenly, then stilled, body limp, eyes flashing briefly before his head fell to one side.

"What now?" Asked Daniel, glancing between his watch and the doorway. No-one had come since they had ambushed Sor'tel, but as the time wore on the chances of them being discovered grew exponentially. They knew they couldn't move Jack, but the tension was starting to affect them all, and with every new jump or twist of Jack's body, Sam had jumped almost twice as high.

"I think... I think the symbiote is healing him," she told Daniel, and it did seem that Jack had been quieter the last half hour or so. Sam was almost sure that the white flashes in Jack's eyes she flinched at had been coming less and less frequently.

"What if it just kills him?" asked Daniel, and when she met his eyes she could see the worry there, and the question she's tried not to think about was suddenly right in front of her.

"Daniel, the Goa'uld value their own safety above all else. It'll heal him, it has to. Then it'll be weak and the Colonel can overpower it again. If he's strong enough." She almost believed that, and Daniel simply went back to his own internal thoughts, so she focused on the Colonel's pained face, willing him for a second time, to win.

The minutes passed painfully slowly, and Sam kept checking the Colonel's pulse, trepidation paling her face each time she reached for his flushed bloody throat, but relief flushing her cheeks each time she felt the feint fluttering of his blood under her fingers.

Time seemed to stretch, seconds ticking away, but eventually there was a perceivable change in the Colonel. His pallor improved, he didn't look so... close to death, and his breathing became easier.

"It's working," Daniel muttered, leaning close, but suddenly Jack's eyes snapped open, brown quickly displaced with a cold, hard light.

"Raaaahh, Tau'ri, Kree!" Jack started to thrash wildly, and a flailing hand caught Sam across the cheek. Daniel tried to pin Jack down, but with the Goa'uld in control his strength was beyond Daniel, and for a brief second both Daniel and Sam were holding hands to their faces, and an enraged Sor'tel was grinning at them through Jack's face, eyes all aglow.

"Fight it, sir, you have to fight it!" Sam called desperately, and Sor'tel stilled, the smile slipping from his face as the glow of his eyes flickered. He started to slip down from his sitting position, losing control of the host, and again Sam called for Jack to fight. Sor'tel made one last lunge for his enemies, then face screwed up he fell backwards, teetering. Sam and Daniel crept forward, watching their friend with anxious faces.

Jack's brown eyes flashed again with an internal light, and a last scream gurgled from Jack's lips, at first echoing, distorted, but thin and wailing on the end... all human... all Jack.

The room fell quiet then, and Jack flopped boneless to the ground. Sam carefully moved over to Jack, reaching out to feel his pulse again, one last time. If he didn't make it, if she'd condemned him to live out his last moments in a living hell, she doubted that she could ever forgive herself. She knew Jack would never forgive her, never understand, and that thought alone filled the pit of her guts with a fear that felt it would consume her from the inside out. She'd made a choice, and she couldn't go back... and neither could Jack.

"Sam?" Daniel's query hung in the air, and though he moved closer, he seemed reluctant to know Jack's condition.

"I... I don't know Daniel. I think he won." Jack, though unconscious, seemed strangely at rest, and Sam could sense the Goa'uld within him no longer.

"Sam, it's not safe here... when will we know?" Daniel flinched as Jack's legs suddenly spasmed, and Sam's face fell, praying she didn't have to watch Jack's desperate struggle again, but something was different, the gargling sounds he made this time were his own. Jack jerked upright, and Sam tried to steady him as he flopped over to his front, his trembling arms held beneath him, supporting his weight.

Jack's back arched as he choked, and fear spiralled up within him as he felt a mass suffocating him from within. Colours flared in his eyes and he brought his hands up to his throat as if it could help him breathe. Hands clasped him as he struggled, and then he flipped and retched, and he felt his throat tear, and tasted coppery phlegm as with a final arch of his back he deposited a slimy curled bundle onto the floor in front on him.

Hands were on him, holding him, pulling him, trying to soothe him, but all Jack could see was the snake. The curled slimy half dead snake twitching in front of him, it's jagged mouth gaping, gasping, as it slowly uncurled and mewed. Jack's cold fingers fumbled for the very knife that had pierced his own back, and drawing it back he drove it deep into the wooden floor though the head of Sor'tel.

The last scream of the dying symbiote filled Jack with a triumphant swell of emotion, and he grinned ferally, taking guilty pleasure in the snuffing out of another's life just this once. The snake twitched once, twice, a parody of a healthy symbiote, then it stilled. Sam reached for the knife, but Jack slapped her hand away.

"Leave him to his knife," he growled, voice gruff, throat sore, blood colouring his lips. Red standing out against his pale gaunt face. He coughed a few times, blood splattering the floor. He wiped a hand over his mouth, for the second time in as many days trying to forget, to move on and past, and eventually he pushed himself shakily to his feet, caught and steadied by Sam.

"Sir?"

"Jack... it worked!" Dan