TITLE: Should I Die

AUTHOR: Divine Joker

EMAIL: souls_darkangel@yahoo.com

SPOILERS: Up to New Order… take's a fork from there.

RATING: NC17… or very high R: sexual situations as well as some violent tendencies.

SUMMARY: He's come to get Jack, and he'd do almost anything to get him.

CATEGORY: Post-Apoc, A/U, S/J, Jack!whump

ARCHIVE: SJD, my site and I'll post to others.

DISCLAIMER: Yeah, well, they make such fun people on TV that I've just had to put them to paper. MGM et al. earn the money they make, not me. I'm just playin'.

A/N: There are some promises that I made to certain people on the outset of this piece that weren't entirely fulfilled within the set. I hope that they are none too displeased with the outcome and I'm sure they'll have fun coming up with a way to make me pay them back.

This is of a different sort for me, and really, I don't know how it'll be received, but it was bugging me one day and I had to start it and from there I *had* to finish it. It interrupted several other works that I had on the go and demanded more attention and finer look at details than when I first began. Hopefully I didn't miss anything.

To Tricia: You can stop buggin' me now. You have your fic.

To Ky: I hope you're feeling better soon and that you enjoy this, even though I know you don't particularly like the categories.

I'll shut up now.

Child's prayer:
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
And should I die before I wake
I pray the Lord my soul to take

She was watching Cassie again. Even though he could only see the back of her head, he knew that her eyes were taking the same path that his were. From the light hair before him, his eyes danced over the fire and landed on the young woman across from them. Cassie's shortly cropped, wildly matted hair was sticking to her head with a thin sheen of sweat due to her proximity to the fire and Jack worried that if she ended up any closer to the flames, her blanket would start on fire.

Pursing his lips, he dismissed the thought. In the three months that they'd been staying in the valley, she'd learned a lot and how to stay out of the fire was one of them.

Three months?

Three months, 4 days and fifteen hours, he thought, casting a casual glance at his watch.

"Stop it," Sam said quietly, knowing what he was thinking.

Jack sighed and raised his eyes to the sky, wide and open beyond the trees surrounding them. His arm settled around her waist again as he watched a stealth form coast across the opening a few seconds before the engines of the death glider met up with the passing object. He wasn't worried about a raid tonight; he hadn't done anything to tick Ba'al off in a week and a half.

Oddly, the Goa'uld was being patient in his attempts to kill Jack; and he knew that that was what Ba'al was trying to do. If it had been Apophis or – God forbid – Anubis, there would have been no stopping the flood of Jaffa upon the planet's surface until his head was planted at their feet. Ba'al seemed to enjoy the hunt and would only scour the countryside after one of Jack's little interference runs that would invariably leave a patrol of Jaffa rotting in the middle of a mountain range.

Jack took a lot of pleasure out of those times. He tried to wipe the look of consternation that ran over both Sam and Cassie's faces from his mind, even as he turned into the forest the last couple of times.

He was almost glad that they'd rounded up fifteen other stragglers who were good at following commands; at least he knew that should he really die, Sam would have to focus on something other than the fact that he was dead.

His own focus shifted like the wind. How was it that the Asgard were absent? The SGC had just been talking with them a few weeks prior to Ba'al ambitious invasion. And now?

Suspiciously and auspiciously absent.

Sam had tried to say that the Replicators must have been acting up again, but somehow that didn't seem to quell the rising hatred at the race's seeming ambivalence to Earth's position.

And really… three months?

A lot can happen in three months.

His eyes closed and he drew Sam closer to his body, more for the physical comfort than any physical intimacy that might have stemmed from the movement. He heard her catch her breath and wondered – not for the first time – if she would bring up the topic again. They'd had one talk in the last three months; something he wasn't keen to repeat.

"I just don't understand…"

"I don't expect you to, Carter. I'm serious."

"So am I!"

"I don't want to have that happen and then be dead the next day. I can't hurt you like that."

"Too late."

For some reason, the look that had passed over her eyes that night still haunted him. He was more than pleased that she didn't stop curling up into his arms every night, even with the stress it put on his body. He didn't know if she had drawn away from him how he would have handled it.

He'd already lost Teal'c in the first wave.

Daniel had been presumed lost only a few days later in some crazy out of mountain expedition in an attempt to curb the ground invasion.

It was by sheer luck that he'd come across Sam and Cassie as he was leaving the soon-to-be destroyed base. They hadn't said anything as they'd jumped into his truck and watched the mother-ships hover over in the distance as they'd raced north into the mountains.

He sighed and ducked his head down into Sam's neck, feeling the pull of sleep off to the edge of his consciousness.

"I think we need to head somewhere warmer, sir."

"Alright," he agreed, knowing that the cooler wind coming down from the peaks was slowly dropping in temperature.

"We're going to have to go around; head to the coast before we head south." She said softly, her fingers lazily tracing his as they rest on her abdomen.

"Sounds good," he said, knowing that he was sounding apathetic. He cleared his throat. "Sorry, Carter, I'm just thinking."

"I know." She sounded abject and lost; as if there was nothing she could do to stop him from thinking. Four months ago it would have been him telling her to stop thinking. "I think we should probably head for San Diego."

"Mmmmm." Suddenly Jack was visualizing the route down the coast to the city. "The roads are passable and I'm sure if we snuck into Denver we could heist a few SUV's from the lots."

One thing that Jack took for granted was the Goa'uld's general uninformed opinion of the vehicles that the humans used. In his recent explorations, Jack hadn't seen a single gas station demolished; leaving the humans basically free to travel when they wanted to take the risk.

Mentally, Jack rolled his eyes at Ba'al's arrogance. There was, of course, the risk it took to drive, given the routine fly-overs by the death gliders and the possibility of running into a foot patrol.

Over all, though, Jack felt pretty safe about the idea.

His fingers curled into her stomach and he let her lace her own with his. A dark whole of suction landed in his stomach and he was slapped in the face with the importance of the woman lying so trustfully in his arms.

Why couldn't he…

His eyes were drawn to the shuffling form across the fire and he saw the young woman flip onto her side, away from the fire, curling into the ball of yellow, dirtied fur that lay on the other side.

Caleb had been an unexpected surprise in the last few months. His introduction into the group had been something of a timely intervention on his behalf.

Cass had allowed Jack to dictate her involvement in the actions against the invasion for the first month until he had pissed her off with his mother-hen habit and she had snuck off with one of the patrol on their rounds. Not only had Jack flown off the handle, but Sam had been thrown into a fit of restless contemplation by the fire.

Five hours after they had noticed her missing, she had come strolling back into camp with the lab strolling on her heels, heeding every single thing she had to say.

The unofficial story that Cassie had relayed to Jack about Caleb – after they had admonished her for her insensitivity to the situation and promised to rethink their position – was that the dog had just come up to her from somewhere within the ruins of a rest station and stuck by her side.

Jason, the leader of the patrol, had given a more accurate and heart- stopping rendition of the actual introduction of Caleb. It involved a Jaffa patrol, hiding in an abandoned station, slipping and attracting the attention of the Jaffa and the sudden appearance of the dog racing across the road before disappearing into the bushes, dispelling the Jaffa's interest in the building.

Still, Jack couldn't help but appreciate the inherent nature of the dog to protect his `pack' of humans.

Plus, Cassie was warm on both sides and that damn wind was cold.

Sam shifted in his arms and turned to face him, her nose burying itself in his breastbone.

"I can't smell that good, Carter."

"I can handle it, sir. My nose is cold."

It had taken her three weeks to drop the `sir' the first time around and she had just gotten comfortable with `Jack' when that stupid conversation had set something back in place and she had reverted to `sir' ever since. Cassie had given him a truly evil look when she had first heard Sam address him as such again, and he could only wonder if she had actually been awake during that conversation.

Taking a deep breath, Jack settled his hand on her back and returned to moving his fingers over her skin.

No matter how much he denied them the last of physical intimacy, he was more than willing to push the line by touching her and he wondered that if she broached the issue again if he would be able to say `no.'

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\

They spent a few days planning their timely excursion into Denver; who would go, when and how long it would take before they came back to the camp. Even the daily patrols through the forest returned without so much as a gust a wind carrying death glider sounds.

It turned out that Sam, Jason and himself were to go into town and take the cars and any spare gas that they could get their hands on. With fifteen people to transport and the possibility of finding others along the way, room was valuable. They didn't have much to transport in way of belongings, so it left a fair amount of leeway in picking up stragglers.

And thanks to the naquadah in Sam's blood, there was no possibility of picking anyone up who could be a potential spy for Ba'al.

Raiding the Wal Mart was easy, as well as taking the gas that was left in three of the stations that they came across. The spare 25 gallon canisters in the back of the vehicles masked the odour coming off of their bodies, but was dizzying and left them sitting for a long time before they deemed themselves able to travel again.

It was an hour hike from the road to where they were camped, but most of the troupe was already at the roadside by the time they pulled off to the shoulder. Shifting the stolen food and sleeping gear off to the side, each vehicle took its five passengers and headed out into the mountains.

Highway 70 was in nearly pristine condition, leaving the group to drive as fast as they wanted to in order to get to their destination.

Jack liked the sound of 85.

Sam liked the sound of 95, apparently, and waved to him as she passed him four hours out of town.

They played leapfrog with Jason till they passed through the interchange heading south. They had stopped once at noon at a small town where the gas station was completely untouched and they all raided the preserved foods from the shelves there, rather than touching their own stash.

Jack found himself watching Sam as she licked the salt from her Lays Original (original?) off of her fingers. She talked animatedly with Jason, leaning back over the hood of the car as he leaned forward as if he were spilling the secrets of the universe.

Jack could feel something darken his sporting mood and turned swiftly, almost bumping into Cassie.

She arched a knowing eyebrow at him and then sighed before turning to walk across the lot to the other car.

"What?" He said defensively to her retreating back.

Cassie just waved a dismissing hand over her shoulder, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the lot until Sam called out to everyone that they were leaving again.

They passed L.A. at about a quarter past 9 and the sun was just lighting the Pacific as they finally descended down to the ocean side highway. Jack had been caught in his own thoughts, allowing the other passengers of the car to fill the void with conversation. They hadn't noticed his reticence to chime in; most had come to accept that Jack was silent unless he really had something important to say.

The convoy halted just on the outskirts of San Diego, holing up in a vandalized neighbourhood that offered good cover and the very slim possibility of a patrol anytime during the night.

It wasn't until they had started to unload the sleeping supplies that Jack wondered if Sam would be joining him. Thoughts of her curling around Jason…

He shook his head and forcibly turned his thoughts to handing over the sleeping bags to each passing member of the group, subconsciously noting that Sam hadn't picked hers up. He glanced around the lot, even knowing that she wasn't there.

Sighing to himself, Jack grabbed his gear and headed into the apartment building that they had chosen to sleep in.

He wandered around the halls for a moment, taking note of the rooms that were occupied and as he passed Cassie, he made sure to know exactly what room she was in. Then, feeling a little guilty and slightly pitiful headed to the stairwell and went to the roof.

He isolated himself on one corner, facing the door yet in the shadows and found himself staring up at the stars, amazed by their intensity, even in the city. To try and keep his mind from slipping into the impossible conundrum of their situation, he began to name the constellations, following them across the sky to the just darkening western horizon. He was just passing the Big Dipper when the hatch to the roof opened.

He didn't want to feel the thump of his heart when her slim shadow detached itself from inside and moved out into the open. He didn't want to clue her into his position, but couldn't stop himself from shifting.

Her sharp ears caught the sound and her eyes followed, her entire stature shifting as soon as she discerned his form in the darkness.

She moved stealth-like over the open space and finally stood over him.

"You're hiding," she said matter-of-factly as she unrolled her mattress and settled it next to his.

Knowing that he couldn't deny it without sparking her fragile anger, he just shrugged.

She paused in her movements and looked at him for a long moment before she sighed heavily.

For a moment he was scared that she was going to grab her stuff and go back inside; if she did, he didn't know if he would cry or throw himself off of the close edge of the building. His heart skidded into his throat and slowed his breathing into short shallow gulps until she continued to roll out her sleeping bag.

Something was sticking in the back of his throat as she put herself into her bag and settled, facing away from him.

Jack closed his eyes, his heart overwhelmed with pain and fear and love and… a tumult of emotions that he had hoped he would never have to face again in his lifetime. Everything on the left side of his body was keenly aware of her body only inches away from him. Magnetically drawn, he rolled onto his side and fit himself around her and something heavy in his heart shifted delightfully away.

He was still caught in his thoughts when she turned in his arms and raised her eyes to meet his.

"Why?"

"Why?" he asked startled.

"Why are you hiding?" She took a breath and then added, "More to the point, why are you hiding from me?"

"I'm not hiding," even though he knew he was, "I'm giving you an out."

He was?

"An out?" She hadn't asked that for him to clarify, but in surprise. "I don't want… I don't *need* an out." Her hand crept out of the bag and latched onto his forearm.

"I don't want to talk about this," he said, his eyes closing as he rolled onto his back.

For a long moment he registered a sharp stinging pain in his forearm, and then suddenly she was out of her sleeping bag and standing over him.

"I would be well within my right mind to walk to that door and leave you here in your pity-party, you selfish son of a bitch." She moved over him, her feet planted on either side of his hips before she knelt down and bent to his face. "I *love* you, Jack O'Neill, and in the end, whether you give me outs, push me away, or even deny me the opportunity to *show* you how much I love you, I will come back to you."

Stunned by the vehemence in her voice and the utter conviction that shone from her eyes in the dim light, Jack was suddenly hit with the truth of her insult. Before he could apologize however, she was going on.

"God help me, Jack, I've loved you for so long, that there was never the option of taking Jason up on his obvious interest. Even *he* could tell. And in the long run, one night is much better than none at all."

Silently, swiftly, she was moving off of him and back into her own bag, pulling it close around her, even in the humid air and curling into a tight foetal position. Her physical closure from him, as well as her apparent fill of his emotional bullshit left Jack reeling and sweating with indecision.

He didn't know how long he was lost in his whirlpool of thoughts, but he then decided that it had been too long. With a deep breath and cursing his own self-defences, he was about to roll over when he realized that she was crying.

Feeling low and unworthy, he moved next to her and put a soft hand against her waist. She flinched and he bit his lower lip, the repercussion of his arrogance cascading down his spine in painful shivers. He kept his hand planted and with a little pressure, urged her to unfurl and roll over. It took some coaxing, but in the end she was in much the same position as she had been the previous night, her left hand linked under his and curling up to his shoulder, clutching his shirt.

She continued to cry into his shirt, the cloth catching the tears and cooling in the night air.

His fingers rose to her hair and laced into the locks, holding her close. "I really hate it when women cry, you know that?"

Her breath huffed out of her lungs and she pulled herself closer to him, lining her body flush with his. Her breath was heavy against his neck and fluttered down the back of his sweaty shirt, eliciting an arc of goose bumps down his back.

His hold tightened and he pulled her head back, the position opening her mouth slightly and leaving her eyes half open. He swallowed thickly at the enticing figure of her lips so close to his face.

And as his heart expanded in his chest, threatening to envelope the years-old blackness that had held residence below his heart, Jack was awed with the feelings that he found himself experiencing. They coursed through his veins and circled his fingers, leaving him suddenly awash and drifting towards her.

"This is going to hurt." He predicted, his head dipping closer to hers but stopping clear.

"When hasn't it?" She said, her lips darting in and taking a quick, seemingly criminal taste of his lips.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, taking his own quick kiss.

"You will, but I forgive you," she answered easily, her fingers drawing up his arm and reaching around his neck, inching closer to him.

"Why?" he asked, surprised and drawing back. Even in the darkness he could see the disappointment with his reaction flicker across her face before she was pulling him to her again. She stopped him just in time that he could feel her breath trailing tantalizingly across his cheek.

"Because I love you." Her whispered words went straight into his gut.

Jack was surprised with the ease with which she said those words; something that had been hidden for so long was making its presence known in a very short time. He wondered if the years of harbouring the same phrase in his heart would make it difficult for him to say.

"I love you."

Apparently not.

It seemed to break her and she crushed her mouth to his. She wasted no time in pressing her tongue past his lips and throwing herself into the kiss. Finally faced with the one thing that he had denied both himself and her, Jack responded to her urgent push.

The tightly rolled sleeping bag slipped away with ease and Jack found his fingers playing along the skin of her spine, not so much unlike any other night, but that he could now allow his touch to explore. He could feel his body responding to her taste and pressure and the arousal racing along his veins dragged his fingers to her breasts – bare in the warm weather and ease of travel - allowing his hand to cup the flesh and mould it into his palm.

As her lips were unwilling to relinquish the hold they had, her breathy moan escaped through her nose and she bowed into him, pressing her upper body into his questing hands. Given permission, Jack let his hands caress her skin before he moved her over top of him.

He groaned loudly when her weight landed square on his hips, pressing his cock into her. Awash with the pleasurable sensations, he followed her lead when she moved to take his shirt from his torso.

Apparently released from the months of his boundaries, her quick hands explored his skin and urged his hands to travel her body, moving frenetically from her waist to her neck, front to back in an attempt to cover every inch of her with his wandering touch. Her own shirt was then shucked over her shoulder and she bent down to taste his skin again, biting tenderly into his chest when his fingers tightened around her nipple and tugged enticingly.

Jack held his breath, trying to ignore the habitual movement of her hips against his.

"Carter," he drawled, his head rolling to the side as his hands settled to her hips and tried to hold her still.

Her nails grabbed his forearms again, releasing his clamp-like hold and allowing her freedom of motion again. She immediately took up her rhythm again and Jack listened to the uneven breathing issuing from her lips. Not allowed to hold her still – no matter how desperate he was to stop her – his hands rose to her chest again, hoping that he could distract her.

Instead, his pinching of her nipples seemed to increase the rotation of her hips and he was suddenly hit with the thought that she was going to end it like this.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head, wondering how she could have been so on edge that he could get her to orgasm without touching her. His own tenacious grip of control slipped a little more with the insistent grind of her hips against his erection and he growled.

Her breasts rose as she took in a deep breath and her back bowed, pressing his hands closer to her skin. Her fingers dug relentlessly into the skin of his forearms and the intensity of the pain spiralled the last of Jack's control out into the starry sky.

Her hips locked down, as she fell forwards, her head hanging over his; her longer hair framing her face as she stared down at him, light reflecting delightfully off of her eyes. She ground steadily against him in circles, her orgasm ending on a harsh exhale and his name.

A final twitch of her out-of-control movements caught Jack completely off guard and sent him over the edge, his own hips bucking up against her, riding the waves of his orgasm as he rubbed against her. He relaxed in the haze of the feeling, his eyes refusing to leave her intense gaze.

Finally she blinked and released a heavy, contented sigh. Jack's eyes slid closed as he savoured the languorous flood of adrenaline leeching through his system and finally returned his focus when he felt her shiver above him.

His hands could feel the goose bumps that were lining her skin and he shifted them so that they were lying on their sides before he reach behind her and tugged the sleeping bag overtop of themselves. She hummed as he held her tightly against him, knowing that he finally had the ability and freedom to touch much more confidently.

Sam moved against him and he felt a tender kiss drop to the bottom of his chin before he heard her whisper, "That didn't hurt at all, Jack."

He sighed, a feeling of dread tickling the edge of his pleasurable interlude. He held his tongue until he could feel her shift lethargically against him in her slumber.

"It's going to, Sam. It's going to hurt like hell sooner or later."

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\

The next morning found them in roughly the same position that they had fallen asleep in, though her hands were now tucked into the back of his pants, her nails tickling the sensitive skin of his lower back. He lay in the silence, something that he had come to expect in the days following Ba'al's final domination. Without turning his body, he rolled his head to watch the sunlight the sky, the darkness leaking away under the ever-growing presence of the sun.

Predictable like ever, he thought. Not even the Goa'uld could stop the sun in the sky.

Sam finally changed her breathing in a signal of her coming awake.

He jerked as her cold nose came into contact with his chest again and he was awed with the capacity that she had to get a cold nose. She'd been pressed up against him all night. He couldn't help a small grin from cracking his face.

He was just about to wish her a good morning when his ears perked at a distant sound. Jack paused for along moment, his head tilting to better catch the acoustic echoes of sound from the abandoned streets below.

He knew that sound.

So did Sam.

"Go down and make sure that everyone is out of sight." He issued swiftly, reaching to throw her shirt to her and grabbing his own. He winced slightly at the uncomfortable tug of his pants and frowned until he remembered that he'd never removed them during their break the night before.

Pulling the worn cotton over her head, she leant down and stole a quick kiss, whispering, "I love you," before she darted across the open space, scurrying low to the roof.

Silently Jack shifted so that he could peer over the edge of the building and to the approaching Jaffa patrol. His eyes scanned the area, wondering if it would be possible to mount an immediate attack against them and ruled it out. For one, there were just as many Jaffa as there were people in their group, and they'd had no time to prepare.

Jack pursed his lips in distaste and watched as the formation continued on its path.

After several moments he heard three people come back onto the roof and move across to him. He felt the comforting coolness of his P-90 press against his shoulder and gratefully took the weapon from Sam.

"We're letting them go," he whispered, much to their dismay. "There's no way we can…" he paused and his silence drew Sam next to him.

His eyes scanned the abandoned buildings across from them and a few up the road; his black ops trained eyes catching minute differences in the scene than from what he'd witness in their arrival last night. One open window there, a moved box and no shadow in that window and the clincher…

"Damn it," he hissed, throwing silent gestures to Sam to move across the roof to a different angle.

Immediately she could tell that he was expecting something to happen and took Andrew, the third member of her party along with her, leaving Jason to crouch next to Jack.

"What?" he asked harshly. His utter hatred of the Jaffa and Ba'al was well known, though no one knew exactly why. Jack had seen him careless a few times and wondered if there were ways to make sure that he held his ground with the idea of allowing the patrol to continue. Right now he was impatient, and that was a bad thing.

"Stay," Jack hissed as if he were commanding Caleb. Jason eyed him, but bowed to Jack's obvious history with the military.

He caught Sam's eyes from across the roof and saw that she had seen what he had.

It didn't take long for the first shot to echo hollowly through the streets.

And then everyone one was shooting.

Jack had made everyone keep their weapons on single shot all the time, knowing that their one defence was at a premium: once the P-90 clips were gone, they were gone. Jack had been lucky to snag the ones he had on the way out of the self-destructing mountain.

Both Sam and Jack were making their shots count, where as Jason was taking pleasure in just being able to dispatch some of the Jaffa.

Soon the troop was lying dead or dying in the streets and Jack could see a lone person emerging from a doorway further down the street, his movements planned and careful at first as if he expected some of the Jaffa to jump up and kill him.

Sam shuffled back to his side and he graced her with a proud smile before he returned to observing the explorer inching down the road.

There was something about him…

"Jesus," Sam whispered, suddenly up off the ground and dashing through the pipes to the door.

Jack understood her thoughts and moved along with her, his heart thumping in his throat.

Can't be, can't be cantbecantbe…

The stairs passed in a blur and the pounding of his heart muted the beat of Sam's feet ten metres below him. There was a harsh clang and scratch as the fire exit snapped open under the weight of her running body and even Jack was washed away in the possibility of their thoughts coming into reality.

He nearly ran her over when he flew from the shelter of the apartment building. She stood in the barely light roadway, her whole frame twitching at the sight of the startled man huddling over the pile of dead Jaffa.

Her breath hitched into her throat and for some reason Jack was attacked with the same flood of relief and pain and confusion that was written out in Sam's body language.

"Daniel…"

Suddenly there were other people in the street; all with their weapons trained on Jack and Sam as they stood shocked.

He had looked up from his inspection of the Jaffa at the harsh sound of the door opening across from him and was now facing them with the same confusion and indecision that they were feeling in regards to seeing the other alive.

"Oh my God…" Sam breathed, her weapon falling limply from her hands to hang from the brace around her torso. Jack realized that they'd never mourned the loss of their friends; they just had accepted their loss and tried to make the best of their situation. Now, at the sight of one of those losses standing before them, the other casualties seemed that much more apparent. Jack didn't know whether to feel gratitude for Daniel's continued existence or pain at the loss of the others.

Their shock was shattered at the sound of another door opening and a streak of a person dashed through the road and right into Daniel's embrace.

"Daniel!" Cassie cried into his shoulder, flinging her arms around his neck and latching to him so much like an oyster.

Sam and Jack were suddenly moving through the shocked stand-bys to the two of their friends locked in a grateful embrace.

His eyes opened from his hug of the younger woman and looked disbelievingly at the figures who were waiting for their turn to greet the returning man into their midst. Without releasing Cassie, Daniel gestured for Sam and Jack to gather close and all four of them hung close.

Moments in, Jack felt Sam stiffen in the group hug and break away, her eyes scanning the crowd and her hands grasping the weapon hanging at her waist. He'd seen it enough times to know that she was sensing naquadah nearby.

Daniel noticed too.

"Sam…"

Her eyes snapped to over Jack's shoulder and then she was moving past him, her shoulders skimming his as she moved into the crowd behind him. Jack cast a look at Daniel, over Cassie's head and then turned to follow Sam's passage into the crowd.

Unbelievable.

Jacob Carter stood in the midst of the scraggly group, his once proud stance bent and shuttered from months of believing that both of his children were dead.

"Sam."

The two locked themselves into a hug that didn't leave any doubt as to the relief that both of them were feeling at the reception. Jacob had his head buried into her shoulder, his symbiote doing nothing to quell the tears that were coursing down his cheeks.

Happy with the reunion, Jack reached out to Daniel again and pulled him into another hug.

"It's good to see you, Daniel."

The man looked about to cry, but returned the sentiment, still having Cassie latched onto him.

And then everyone was moving through the city again, following the group that had accompanied Daniel. There was nothing odd about the city of San Diego except that here and there through the industrial areas, strategic buildings had been destroyed. Daniel explained that as the fighting had slowed down in the south, Ba'al's ships had destroyed all the communications and military bases. Ba'al wanted to keep Earth as intact as possible, though there were no people around to live on it.

Only Daniel and Lieutenant Colonel Nicholas Watt from SG-8 had survived the ground assault, and then only because they had happened to come across Jacob, hiding within Ba'al's ranks.

Jack cast a glance at Sam as she walked beside her father, her arm tucked around his waist and her head falling on his shoulder. He felt a flush of pleasure and happiness uncurl from just under his ribcage and he smiled, turning his attention back to Daniel.

"Ba'al must not have been happy to find out that Jacob was a Tok'ra."

"Ah, yeah, Jack? That's probably something I should tell you. They," he gestured generally to the people around him, "don't know anything about the Tok'ra."

Jack blinked and flashed him a `please continue' look.

"Well… given *your* tendency towards disliking Tok'ra – even though you *know* them – and the general public's limited knowledge of the Goa'uld in the first place, we figured it'd be safer for Jacob to be just… you know, Jacob."

"And don't be fooled, Jack, if Ba'al were given the choice between you and me?" Jacob said from five feet behind, "He'd still choose you."

Jack forced a sick smile. "Thanks, Jacob, that makes me feel so much better."

Suddenly, Sam disengaged from her father and strolled next to Jack, resting her head on his shoulder without a hesitation. Again, he was hit by the purity of her resolve and love for him and felt the shame of his own fear and arrogance for holding them apart. His other hand rose and laced into her hair, holding her still for a moment.

"It's not going to come to that," he promised, placing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head before tugging her back upright and resuming their walk. Even though he knew that he couldn't guarantee the promise. She tilted her head against his shoulder and seemed to take his badly disguised vow with grace.

Neither Jacob nor Daniel seemed surprised with the apparent intimacy of the exchange.

They carried on, exchanging what they knew with each other until Daniel steered them into a seemingly deserted street, stopping in front of a large apartment complex.

He was just about to open the door to enter into the darkened building when a sole man came dashing around the corner and skidded to a halt before Daniel, stopping opening his mouth before catching Jack in his second glance.

"Sir!" he saluted and it took Jack a long moment before he recognized him as the lieutenant colonel.

"At ease, Nick. It's good to see you," he greeted the man, hoping that his distress at loosing Teal'c and having others still alive wouldn't leave him to worn out.

"You too, sir." He glanced at Sam, "Colonel."

"Colonel." She greeted him.

"Oh, come on. It's not like there's still a military, Nick. Drop it already."

He stepped back for a moment and then nodded. "Of course… Jack." The name was uneasy and Jack could tell that it wouldn't be coming out of him in regular conversation. He sighed and motioned for the man to continue.

"Scouts just came in from their run along the pier. Ba'al's in town."

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\

"I don't think so!"

"Sam…"

Her hackles were definitely not about to settle down in the near future, and Jack was sure that he knew the exact reason why. It was precisely the reason that he was sitting silently, in the corner of the apartment, admiring the way in which she was handling her fury. In just moments, her logic would supersede anything else that had been said in the last ten minutes.

Jack watched as she stepped up to her father and stood nose to nose with him.

"Dad, really, I can appreciate you wanting me to stay on the sidelines, but seriously? Come on!" She waved her hands in exasperation. "Not only are there only… well, lets see…" she pointed around the room, counting off those with military training, "five of us with military experience, we're the *best* at working against Jaffa and Ba'al."

Jacob sighed and Jack knew better than to try and soothe Sam's ruffled feathers. Besides, whenever she got this riled up, she usually had a point. It wasn't like Jack hadn't learned anything in his years commanding her.

Daniel nervously fingered his automatic's safety switch and Nick sat square in the corner, not used to the vehemence in her actions. He was used to the intelligent, absorbed Lieutenant Colonel that sat in the labs and worked on the things that he had brought back.

Jack smiled, and noticing that neither Jacob nor Sam were continuing with their discussion, stood and moved to her side.

"Alright. We both know that Sam's coming on this mission; whether you like it or not," he said, addressing Jacob. "This is the perfect opportunity to finally get rid of Ba'al and after that, we can try and sway the Jaffa to the rebel side. Let's just worry about Ba'al."

Jacob opened his mouth and Sam glared at her father, knowing that he was going to contradict Jack's position. She huffed and turned on her heel, heading out of the apartment and into the hallway. Jack shook his head at Jacob.

"She's coming, Jacob, but I need you to concentrate on the mission and not on your daughter's safety. Not only is she one of the best, she's faced worse. She's with me on this, alright?"

Jacob paused for a long moment before finally nodding and accepting Jack's option. Waving his hand in dismissal, Jack went in search of Sam.

He found her sitting by a window in the next apartment, looking out over the bay. She had one leg pulled up to her chest with both of her arms wrapped around it and her chin resting on her knee. The setting sun was throwing her hair into a yellow halo and Jack smiled at the picture, even knowing that she was in a foul mood.

"You do know that his worries have nothing to do with his belief in your abilities, right?"

She took a deep breath, but didn't acknowledge him in any other way.

"Sam? Right?" Jack pushed, needing to know what it was that was throwing her into such a whirl of emotions.

Her blue eyes flickered to his from the shadows cast over her face, and Jack cocked his head as he watched her. She closed her eyes and he could see her trying to work out the words that would get her message across. He had never had anything but the greatest of respect for her abilities in the field and in the lab, but now he wondered if she even knew that.

"Regardless of him, Sam, I have the utmost faith in your ability to run with this mission. In regards to your father, though, I need him to focus on this mission; because as you were saying, there are only five of us who have had experience with the Goa'uld before."

"And? But? So? Therefore?" she said sardonically, her gaze retreating out the window.

It shouldn't have shocked Jack that she was mad, but in retrospect, ever since she had joined the SGC, people had depended upon her to save the world – literally – without ever once questioning her ability in the field. To get it from her father…

He hated to say it, but he had to tell her.

"You're with me on this one."

She rolled her eyes and tipped her head to the side, still refusing to look at him. He moved over next to her and playfully nudged her shoulder with his elbow.

"Carter."

Jack didn't think that he'd ever seen her quite so… sulky. He sighed.

"Alright. Well, I'm going back next door to plan the downfall of one of the snaky-est bastards of the 21st century. Feel free to join us anytime." He turned and headed for the door, where he paused again and turned back to her. "And if you want to be in this mission *at all* you'll be there in the next five minutes."

Jack hated having to play pseudo-caretaker to the woman he loved, but he needed to snap her out of her funk somehow.

"Alright!" he clapped his hands as he came back into the room. He was surprised to find Jason hanging out in one of the other chairs. "Hello?"

"I, uh… I would have thought that I would have been useful on this one, Jack. I've been helping you all along." He shrugged.

It was true, but the man had never come up against *the* bad guy.

"Jason, there's a big difference between running patrols and infiltrating a mother ship." Jack watched the man as he spoke.

"I don't care."

"I do." He responded evenly. "When there are people under my command, I care whether or not they have the ability to survive and if they could potentially cause accidents that could cause injuries to others." He looked up to see Sam slipping through the door and internally sighed with relief. He turned back to Jason, who he could tell wasn't overly happy with what he was saying. "And don't even think of going off by yourself."

Something was tickling Jack's mind; the way that Jason always was towards the Jaffa, his immense hatred for the invaders seemed over the top, even for someone who may have lost his family. There was something… he was vengeful for another reason.

"That son of a bitch deserves to die," he ground out, causing Jack's eyebrows to flicker as he glanced over to both Daniel and Jacob. They'd caught the man's distress also.

"Well… yes, he does and that's what we're trying to do." He bent down to the suddenly nervous man and looked him in the eye. "I'm curious though. You really couldn't have lost more in the invasion that the rest of us, yet you seem to have a rather… furious appetite for killing him and his henchmen."

He licked his lips and his eyes danced around the room, from person to person. Jack heard the familiar chink of Nick's harness shifting against his P-90. Jason bowed his head and when he was looking up again, he had hatred in his eyes.

"It's you he wants."

"Yes," Jack said, apparently unaffected by the sudden vehemence in the man's eyes.

"He's using my baby to get to you…"

Jack stepped back, his arms taking up their familiar resting spot on the butt-end of his weapon. It was making so much more sense.

"Is that hatred directed at me or at him, Jason? Cause, really, if it is directed at me, it's not going to do you any good just to give me to him."

"Why not?"

"Because Goa'uld, by nature, are manipulative, deceptive and self- important. They can make any decision they please without repercussion. If you did – somehow – get me into his hands, he'd likely kill me, yes; but you too."

Jason huffed and turned his eyes to stare out the now darkened window. Jack glanced around the room and caught Jacob's eye. He shrugged and Jack turned to look at Sam, standing silently just inside the door, her arms crossed over her chest like the calm, cool and collected Lieutenant Colonel of five months ago.

Before Jack could ask his next question, Jason intervened. "She's my daughter… my baby. She only 12, Jack and that bastard has her locked up in some stupid cell on one of those god-awful contraptions. I don't know how he found me, why he wanted *me*… but it is me."

Both Nick and Daniel bowed their heads.

"I need her back, Jack. She's all I have left in this world." Jason's eyes were brimming with tears, the water collecting on his lower eyelashes and finally scudding down his cheeks.

Jack licked his lips. People emotionally involved in a mission to this extent would have been allowed along in normal circumstances. He saw Sam moving across the room to sit behind him, her hand resting gently against the back of his thigh for a brief moment. His own feelings for Sam made him emotionally involved, yet he was *leading* the mission.

"Jason, I need to know everything that you know… and then I need to tell you some things."

Jason cleared his throat and harshly swiped at the tear tracks on his skin. He steadied his breathing and blinked hard, trying to dispel any lingering tears.

He spoke of finding a Jaffa standing in his doorway when he had come home; how he'd been holding his daughter by her hair, heedless of her crying. The Jaffa had taken him to a dark ship, led him through the halls, prodded by a staff weapon until they came face to face with Ba'al, though he hadn't known it at the time. His voice wavered as Jason recalled his reaction to Ba'al's voice, barely remembering the orders that he needed to follow if he wanted to see his daughter alive.

"He told me to find Jack O'Neill or someone named Selmac and bring them to him and he'd let Lisa go."

Jack's eyes flicked to Jacob and shook his head. "He'd choose me, hey?"

Jacob shrugged his shoulders. "He came here for *you,* Jack, not me."

"No, not you, Selmac."

Jacob cast a quick glance at Jason and then shrugged again and dropped his head. "Jacob is correct in his assessment, Colonel O'Neill."

Jason was on his feet in an instant, staring at the figure who was talking in the same fashion as the Goa'uld. He pointed his finger at him.

"He's a Goa'uld, Jack!" Jason watched him for a moment, and when he found that they weren't going to do anything, he made a move for his weapon.

Jason was just bringing the point to bear on Jacob when Jack stepped in between them.

"Whoa!" he said, holding his hands up in surrender. "There's something you need to know now, Jason, before you start killing the good people."

"But he's talking like… *them,* Jack."

"Yes he is. But he's not a Goa'uld, Jason, he's known as a Tok'ra. He's a good guy."

At a loss for understanding the fundamental difference between a benevolent parasitical alien and an evil one, Jason turned to Sam. "That's your father?" with disgust in his voice.

She quirked an eyebrow in response, unperturbed. "Yes, that's my father. But the one that you're talking to is Selmac."

"But… how?!"

Jack set a hand on Jason's shoulder and forced him to sit down. "This is why no one knows about Jacob, Jason. No one would take the time to understand that he's different from the Goa'uld." He looked him square in the eye, his authority and control of the situation evident, hoping that he could calm the man down enough to listen to him. "You have to trust me on this, alright? Ba'al sent you after Jacob because of his role in sabotaging some of Ba'al's attacks on Earth. He's really a good guy." Jason's face was readable to the extreme, and Jack could see everything from trust to hatred in the other man's eyes. Jack sighed. "Really, do you think that we would be standing around here, plotting the downfall of one Goa'uld while harbouring another?"

Jason's face seemed to fall, but he still eyed Jacob with contempt. Jacob shrugged.

"To continue," Selmac said, addressing the group at large. Jason flinched, but didn't say anything. "It is you that he has come for. He would not have known of my infiltration until much later if he had not chosen to invade the Tau'ri."

"Tau'ri?" Jason asked.

"We're the Tau'ri, Jason," Sam provided, much to Jack's relief. He could feel some irritation surfacing with the actions and intrusions of the man.

Jason just nodded mutely.

"Wait a sec, Dad. Are you suggesting bait?"

The room ground to a halt, and Jack's eyes flickered to Jacob. He hadn't even considered the possibility of offering himself to Ba'al as a distraction. Sam moved instinctively to Jack's side, her eyes dancing with fire. And as much as Jack hated the thought of falling into his torture trap again, if it kept him away from anyone else (a.k.a. Sam) then it just could be worth it.

He didn't like the thought that he was thinking in terms of saving Sam from Ba'al and not the Earth.

"Tell me you're not, Dad." She spoke lowly.

Jacob cleared his throat at the sinister undertone from his daughter but wouldn't say one way or another. The fact that he hadn't denied the option spoke clearly as to his thoughts.

"That's suicide!"

"It's brilliant." Jack said softly.

She turned on him, aghast. "You can't be serious."

"Jack, you don't even know what he would do to you!" Daniel said, standing for the first time from his position across the room. "Not to mention he could just *kill* you."

Jack tried to laugh it off; he even forced out a pathetic huff of amusement. But there was certain validity to Daniel's words. As much as he hated the thought of setting himself willingly into Ba'al's hands, if it meant giving the rest of them a greater opportunity to actually kill him for good, then he was more than willing.

"No."

Jack blinked. "No?"

"No," she said again, her full attention bearing down on him with a searing intensity that made Jack rethink his involvement with her – only for a moment.

"Carter, you're acting on your heart," he started.

"You're damn right I am." She said

"And you can't do that right now. Can you honestly tell me that saving me is more important than saving Earth?" Jack's gaze flickered around the room; acutely aware that they were having their first fight as a couple with a full public audience. He caught her gaze again, making sure that she was looking at him and nowhere else. "You've spent eight years with Stargate Command, eight years walking with your friends into enemy fire, leaving friends and co- workers behind because it was more important to keep fighting than to sacrifice yourself for one more soldier. You can't change that now because of *me.*"

God, he was such a hypocrite.

Her eyes fluttered closed and he could see that she was trying to keep her tears at bay. Jack knew that he would be able to appeal to her military soul, though it would take a hell of a lot more to appease her human soul. In the end her head bowed and she refused to meet his gaze. He turned back to the rest of the group.

"Fine, it's the beginning of a plan."

He never thought that he would be one to offer to go on a suicide mission ever again.

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\

Jason had confessed to leaving Ba'al a `note' as to where they were headed a few days ago, and Jack turned it into his favour.

The mornings spy route had stated that there were two Al'kesh landed in a park down on the pier front flanking the mother-ship, out of the immediate view of their chosen settlement.

If the Goa'uld knew that he was there, Ba'al would just have to wait until Jack decided to show himself. And he could have a lot of fun laying traps in the meantime.

The one thing that worked in their immediate favour, was that Jaffa tended to try and win battles through sheer numbers, while humans tended to use strategy and wit to outdo the enemy. It was pretty interesting that after all the years of fighting each other, the System Lords hadn't learned a good defence strategy and continued to offer up Jaffa in their battles. The fact that Ba'al had Jaffa in San Diego of all places, left him to wonder how many other cities were manned.

In the end they devised a pretty good plan; despite him having to end up in Ba'al's hands. It wasn't like they weren't allowed to take down a lot of Jaffa on the way in. Daniel had been able to plot a lot of the patrol routes over the last month that they had been within the city; Jacob had helped him keep the times and the routes safe and had even had some time to rig a few booby-traps to `pass some boring afternoons.'

"So, Jacob, killing Jaffa in your spare time?"

Jacob had just shaken his head at Jack's poor sense of humour and he had received a slap upside the head from Sam who was sitting beside him. He'd winked at her, hoping to avert her momentary loss of humour and had received a smile in return.

It was three days after they'd been told of Ba'al presence when Jason came running into the `control room' frantic.

"He's going to kill her, Jack. He said that he's going to kill her tomorrow."

Jack sighed. He'd expected something like this, though he had hoped that the sadistic bastard would have waited at least a week. He glanced around the room and saw that they all realized what it meant.

They would have to act now.

"It's alright, Jason." He said, looking him straight in the eye. He always felt easier lying to strangers than he had to friends and he had very little faith that tomorrow would pan out in a satisfactory manner.

He caught Sam's eye and he knew that she was thinking along the same lines that he was. His heart tumbled within his chest and he grimaced, looking down and away from her piercing gaze.

Slowly the others filed out of the room, leaving him standing by the window where he could see Sam in the reflection. Out beyond her surreal appearance he could see the setting sun casting it's dying glow and thought of his own life - burning brightly at the end of his journey.

If he did go down tomorrow, he'd go down in a glorious ball of flames with Ba'al right beside him.

"So," she said, taking a step out from the shadows that she was muffled in and making her way to his side.

He looked at her from out of the corner of his eye.

Tentatively, he could feel her fingers weave into his and immediately he took the suggestion and curled his around her hand. Unable to think of the emotions that would overwhelm him at the sight of her watching him, he bowed his head and quietly listened to her breathing next to him.

The silent communion swelled and engulfed the two of them as they stood in the dissipating light, holding hands. After long moments, he felt her fingers tracing the lines of his jaw and cheekbone, curling over his forehead and falling down to his lips in her last attempt to forever etch his countenance into her memory.

There was nothing to be said, nothing to be done and Jack let himself fall away under the gentleness of her touch. Most of their relationship had rested upon the unspoken understanding that they seemed to carry through everything that they had endured.

Now on the eve of a permanent separation, nothing had changed.

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\

He'd woken that morning still wrapped in her arms, in the customary envelope of her embrace.

"I need you to promise me something, Sam," he'd whispered in the stillness.

Her fingers had tightened on his skin and he'd continued.

"You need to leave that ship when the time's up." He knew better than to expect a rebuttal from her. "I can't do this without knowing that you'll still be here; you need to watch Daniel and Cassie and you need to be here for Jacob. You need to be here for me, alright?"

She never said anything to him, had never agreed to the promises, but the warm tears that had run down his chest had been more than an answer for him.

He'd held her, touched her and stayed with her until the rays of the sun bounced off of a building down the street and landed right in his eyes. He'd screwed up his waning mental courage and had moved away from her, refusing to look down on her, knowing that his feelings of duty would pale in comparison to the tear-stained woman lying in his warmed spot.

Steeling himself, digging into the years of black ops he'd endured and the sights he'd witnessed, Jack closed himself off and dressed, pulling the black wear from the bag that Daniel had dropped off the night before. In the bag was a stash of grenades that Daniel had found who-the-hell-knew where along with five extra clips for his P- 90. It wasn't entirely infiltration worthy, but he could make them count. He sighed and closed his eyes, shutting out the sounds of Sam shifting on their bed. He could mentally hear the slamming of the doors within his mind and shook his head with rueful understanding when they shattered a few minutes later.

"Jack?" She called, her voice strong and understanding. "I love you."

Hand on the doorknob, his head fell against the door and he warred with the intelligence of turning back to look at her. He didn't know if his resolve was quite enough to draw himself away from her if he looked at her for just one more long….

"Ah, fuck it," he hissed, turning back to her and kneeling next to her half-clad body, pulling her forcibly against him in a desperately hungry kiss. His eyes stung with threatening tears and she was whispering something against his mouth.

"Please go," she said, her voice steady but soft. "You have to go now or I'm never going to let you."

His entire body clenched in separation, but he drew away, up and to the door again. Roughly he pulled it open, frantic to leave before he completely shattered again. Still he couldn't make himself leave without one thing.

"You be off of that ship, Sam. Please." Slowly she nodded and then he added, "I love you."

And he'd been running ever since.

He hadn't seen Daniel or Jacob – or heaven-forbid, Cassie – and had left before anyone else had given thought that he might have left that early. He'd skirted down the fire exit and burst onto the street at an all out run, not even pausing to watch Sam kneel at the window of their apartment and watch him leave like he knew she would.

He sped away, allowing the stinging rasp of his lungs to lapse into numbness before he allowed himself to stall his pace. He could still feel his knees, so he was good to go for another half an hour at least and then he'd settle for a clipped walk.

It took him three hours to make his way to the bay, where he could see several – not two to his annoyance - Al'kesh faintly outlined on the nearby naval airfield. Cocking his head to the side, he heard the approach of a patrol and looked down to see them crossing the bridge before heading into the city proper.

On the overpass, he was invisible from below and in a highly advantageous position. Casting another cursory glance, he surveyed the troop of 8 and narrowed his eyes in satisfaction.

Ba'al didn't want him dead… yet.

But Jack wanted Ba'al to pay as dearly as possible on his way in.

Pulling the pin, Jack smirked with barely disguised pleasure as he tossed one of his stash onto the unsuspecting group below. The satisfying explosion and surprised screams of pain resounded off of the nearby buildings along with shattering glass and hurried words in Goa'uld.

They hadn't known where the explosion had come from and were huddled together, the four left. Throwing quick glances over the edge of the freeway barrier, he shot one and then another in quick succession, each with a single shot.

"Tau'ri!" one of the last one standing called. "You will pay for your insolence!"

Considering the score was six-to-none in his favour, Jack felt pleased with himself.

"That's what they told me six years ago, buddy. I don't think the penalty's changed all that much and I still haven't paid up." He taunted over the edge of the road. Then he shot one and left the other standing nearly defenceless. "Go tell your `god' that Jack O'Neill is looking for a little sport this morning, Jaffa."

The silver-adorned figure stood indecisively in spot for a long moment before Jack wasted a shot at the invaders feet, sending a spray of painful asphalt up into his face.

"Go!" he screamed, fed up with the waste of time.

The Jaffa took off back over the bridge.

Glancing over towards the base again, he saw the glinting motion of Jaffa armour shifting across the bridge and rolling his eyes, he set off at a trot down the incline and down along the coast.

"Eight to none, Ba'al. Now, if only I could remember how many times you killed me so that I could sort of get even." He whispered to himself as he moved through the streets. He knew that he'd have to take the patrols one at a time, but that didn't mean he couldn't distract some by laying traps.

Half an hour later, he was staking out a passing group from the top of a low-rise book store. This was a troop of 15 and Jack hoped that he could escape this one, just so that he could try and catch even with his score to settle.

The trap sprung: four grenades detonating simultaneously with the patrol in the middle. Only three remained standing and Jack quickly dispatched them before dashing off across the roof and down into the fire escape.

He knew that soon, Ba'al would get fed up with his bumbling Jaffa and send in the death gliders, but until that moment, Jack was going to take retribution. He knew that he had to hold the Goa'uld's attention long enough for the others to sneak into the base and do their stuff.

And to keep the Goa'uld's attention, he needed to keep killing.

The cat and mouse continued all morning and Jack was down to his last set of grenades. Lying completely still he assessed his next targets. Glancing one last time at the sun, Jack cracked his neck to relieve the tension.

This was the end of the line. After this group, he'd be handing himself over to the next patrol and hopefully he'd given the chance for the rest of his friends to make it into the base.

It was a small patrol group and Jack almost felt like he shouldn't waste his grenades on them, but decided that he was tired and that was reason enough to throw in the towel.

The explosives launched through the air and landed smack in the middle of the road… not exactly on target, but with enough accuracy to send all but one of the Jaffa to their knees and over onto their faces. He finished the last one off and with a groan of exhaustion Jack hauled himself to his feet.

With one full clip left, Jack figured that he could take out three or four of the next patrol and surrender himself to the remaining ones, knowing that they would deliver him to Ba'al alive; though maybe not conscious.

There were few things worse that death according to Jack; and being beaten unconscious was one of those things.

Softly he moved through the silent streets, his ears open for the tell-tale clanking of moving armour. Skirting along a deserted park, something that should have been holding happy families and laughing children, Jack headed back south towards the naval base.

He stopped at the overpass that he'd started from and looked down again, watching a large group of Jaffa slowly walking up and down the road on a routine by-pass. Jack didn't know if he wanted to go shot for shot – if he even had the energy for it – or just waste the clip into the group as a whole.

Sighing, he stood and emptied the clip into the milling soldiers below, knowing that he would end his clip right about…

Once the last bullet slipped from the firing chamber, Jack threw the weapon to the floor and held up his hands. Below him 24 hastily assembled Jaffa aimed their staff weapons at him, confused by his sudden surrender. Jack could only hope that the confusion would dissipate the anger he'd fed by leading them on their merry little goose-chase all morning.

Harsh Goa'uld echoed off of the walls and six Jaffa split from the group, heading both left and right in an attempt to corner him on the overpass.

Like he was going anywhere.

He waited patiently for the lumbering Jaffa to make their way to him and he continued to stand still, staring down at the bewildered group below him.

Finally the feet stopped near him and he turned on his feet to face the half a dozen Jaffa who now bore down on him with powered staff weapons.

"Howdy, fellas!" he said nonchalantly, waving both hands out. "I was just walking around town and…"

The only thing warning Jack of the impending impact to his body was a frustrated growl and suddenly the butt end of one of the staff weapons connected forcefully with his ribs. Totally lacking the ability to gather air into his lungs again, Jack fell to his knees, instinctively wrapping his arms around himself in a valiant attempt to protect his bones. Another swift strike caught the side of his face and then he lost his hold on consciousness.

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\

He couldn't breathe properly and he was sure that he felt something horribly wrong with his leg, but he wasn't quite sure what.

In fact, the wrongness stemmed from his inability to feel it at all.

He looked down on it and nodded in understanding. "Ah." He swallowed thickly as he eyed the damage. Idly, as he saw the tip of a splinter of bone that had pierced out of his shin, he thought that he was glad that he had been unconscious for that. The blood had already clotted around the wound, but Jack couldn't force himself to prod the edges to check for anything remotely dangerous to the already scabbing coating.

He'd know soon enough if it were…

"Ah, so we're awake."

Despite the crawling sensation of fear itching its way up his throat, Jack rolled his eyes at the Goa'uld's introduction.

"I don't know, are we? Cause really, I wouldn't mind being asleep right now."

Jack didn't lift his head to watch Ba'al move through the room and until Jack could see his boots before him. Taking a breath, he lifted his eyes, over the opulent finery clothing him and up to the goateed face of Ba'al.

"Stand."

"Would if I could, Ba'al buddy, but I seem to have a slight problem…"

"Stand."

Jack stared at him for a moment and then, awkwardly shifting to his bad knee, making sure to keep the other part elevated above the ground. He had just settled with his good foot planted when an unseen Jaffa jabbed his staff weapon harshly against Jack's bad leg.

Grey exploded around the edge of his vision as pain lanced straight into his brain and he could barely hear Ba'al's demand for him to stand again.

Curling his fists into his thighs and allowing his nails to dig into the palms of his hand, Jack surged up, much to Ba'al surprise. He took pleasure in the unexpected gaze that reigned over Ba'al's face for a short moment as he stood, shaking with the strain of defeating the pain and overcoming the near black-out.

Nostrils flaring in his attempt to prevent himself from screaming against the pain, Jack stared at Ba'al as they stood nose to nose.

"Well, well, Colonel…"

"General."

"Forgive me for not knowing, but I've been a little preoccupied lately."

"Really? What have you been up… to?" He stumbled on his words as for a brief moment he thought that maybe his good leg would give up and he shifted awkwardly.

Ba'al watched him intently for a long moment and cocked his head to the side. "As I do not have my usual technology along with me, we will resort to the – how do you say – `tried and true' methods of entertainment?"

"Hmmm, I could go for a beer and a game of hockey…" he narrowed his eyes in thought. "Oh, damn. That's not going to work now, is it? Seeing as there are no people to play." His thigh was beginning to burn with the full brunt of his weight and Jack took a deep breath, hoping that it would turn numb before it gave out.

Ba'al moved out of his line of vision and years of self-defence wanted him to turn and watch him, but knew that he couldn't. He listened intently to the Goa'uld's movement, suppressing his nervousness when he stopped behind him.

"I remember the time I spent with you two years ago; your persistence and tolerance to pain is quite extraordinary for a human."

"I'm glad I could entertain you." Jack spit, his arms holding out from his body by inches to help with his balance.

His blood was beginning to circulate again, heading down with the pull of gravity. He was glad that the hole in his shin was scabbed over because he would have been losing a lot of blood at this point. However, the new circulation also heightened the sensitivity of the wound and he could feel the steady, deep pull on his nerves. Glad that Ba'al was behind him, Jack closed his eyes and grit his teeth together, hoping to distract himself for a moment. His blood rushed into his head and he could hear it pounding in his ears.

He opened his eyes after a long moment to see Ba'al standing before him, a proud smile on his face. This time Jack braced his jaw in hatred, hoping his hunched and protective stance was still defiant enough.

Ba'al issued a few words in Goa'uld and a Jaffa left, swiftly his heavy armour clanking down the hall.

"You led my Jaffa on quite a chase this morning, General."

"Oh?" he breathed, knowing that pretty soon his strength would lead him to collapse; his focus was shifting with the elevating pain and he couldn't hold his sight on Ba'al for more than a few seconds without realizing that his gaze was shifting to the intricate designs adorning the walls.

The Jaffa returned with a chair and Jack's heart leapt for a moment before he knew that it was for Ba'al, not him. Ba'al seemed to catch the hope in his eyes for the brief moment that it was there and laughed coldly before seating himself, facing Jack.

"Would you like one too?"

"I wouldn't want to put you out, Ba'al. I'm alright."

Ba'al cocked his head to the side and nodded. "Fine then. I think that you and I should have a talk, General."

"Isn't that what we were doing?"

"Quite right," Ba'al tilted his head. "I will then change the topic."

"I'm open." Jack tried to shrug, but stopped at the sharp pain that radiated out from his ribs. He bit his cheek and tasted the salty iron of his blood. His foot was becoming cramped, but there was nothing he could do to even stretch it out. His breathing was short and quick, compensating for tenseness of his entire body.

"Where are the rest of the people who were with you, General? Major Carter?"

"Actually, she's a Lieutenant Colonel, now."

"Really? I will have to congratulate her when I find her."

Good luck, Jack thought. They're either plotting the downfall of your fleet or back on the other side of the city.

At least he hoped.

"However, that was not my question. Where are they?"

"Actually, honestly, I have no idea." Jack said, rolling his shoulders slowly to hopefully relieve some of the strain that was beginning to sear his spine.

"Oh?" The tilt of his eyes was the only sign that Jack had before the Jaffa to his side struck him in the ribs. He bent double, almost losing his precious balance, but controlled his clenching and protesting muscles and slowly righted himself.

"Now really, General, this is quite simple. You answer my questions and I'll set you in my sarcophagus." He slowly rose from his chair and moved again to Jack's side, his hands clasped behind his back. "Where is Lieutenant Colonel Carter?" He asked, his voice low and close to hissing.

"Hmmm…" Jack sighed, hoping that his demeanour was suggestively bored. He couldn't brace himself against the onslaught of the Jaffa's anger and closed his eyes. Falling to his side and instinctively curling his broken leg as close to himself as he possibly could. He sealed his lips and curled his arms protectively around his neck as the feet and staff weapon came down against his skin repeatedly.

An image of himself stuck to the gravity device in Ba'al palace flashed through his mind, but he had a feeling he wouldn't be dying; no, they would have fun with him first.

Closing himself, Jack focused on a bright spot in the middle of his mind, his soul whispering repeatedly, frantically…

`Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep; and should I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take… Now I lay me…'

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\

Everything around him was lost in an unfocused gaze, shaded behind the blood that had coagulated on his eyelashes while he had been unconscious. Keeping his eyes closed, Jack did an internal survey of his limbs, gently attempting to bend his fingers and toes and felt his stomach plummet when he realized that he couldn't feel the toes of either foot.

He couldn't feel either knee… or thigh… or anything below his waist.

His head slumped to the floor, rolling listlessly until a protesting muscle halted its movement. Defeat battered against the solid doors of his mind and he wondered just when the ships were going to blow, because it was sounding more and more like a better solution than what he was expecting for the next few hours.

"Ah, you are awake." Ba'al stood behind him and leaned over until Jack could just see him on the edge of his vision.

"I guess that could depend on your definition."

Ba'al quirked a small satisfied smile and, clasping his hands together with a clap, moved again to his chair, facing Jack.

"I think I know better than to ask you to stand." He smiled condescendingly.

"Yeah," Jack hashed out, "I wanted to ask you something about that. If you're not intending to heal me or anything like that, I think you've taken all the fun out of your next few hours."

"Oh, I don't know." Ba'al lounged back into his throne and eyed Jack with a knowing and annoying grin. "There is more to the physical representation of my dislike of you, General. After all, since I have both the Lieutenant Colonel and her father in my custody, I can have my physical enjoyment through them."

Jack's breath froze in his throat, sending him into coughing convulsions and racking his entire torso with whiplashes of white pain.

He doesn't have them, he thought to himself.

Jack watched Ba'al watching him and tried to find the lie that he had to believe Ba'al was telling him. There is no way he could handle anything more knowing that both Sam and Jacob weren't going to be heading back to San Diego.

"You know," Jack said lazily, "You're a horrible liar."

"Oh?" Ba'al stood and moved to crouch next to Jack, his hands folded haphazardly between his knees. His position forced Jack to turn slightly on his back in order for him to keep the Goa'uld in sight and he hissed as he shifted on his shoulder. "I'm curious as to when it was that she was promoted. She seems rather unstable with her command."

Jack was barely aware enough to catch the problem with that statement. If there was anything Sam wasn't afraid of now, it was command. And she'd proven herself over and over, even under his command, that she was more than able and willing to take her own team out to the front lines.

"She'll grow into it," Jack hissed, his arms curling around his ribs. He rolled back to his side and hid his face against the floor, unwilling to allow Ba'al to know that he *knew* that he was lying. If he could pull Ba'al along for another couple of hours…

"She could have learned with time, I suppose. Her father was a General within your Air Force, was he not?"

Jack took a deep breath, trying to pull himself together through the pain enough to decide how to play this. Maybe he didn't know that Jacob was Selmac…

"Until he retired, yes." Jack breathed, still refusing to look up at him.

Abruptly, Ba'al reached out and forced Jack onto his back, his lumbering limbs twisting awkwardly and turning his back uncomfortably. The pressure on his ribs increased, bending his bruised and cracked ribs against his lungs and hindering his breathing. His breaths were harsh and laboured, wheezing through his dry mouth, as he lay prone on the cold granite floor.

"You are a stubborn man, General," Ba'al hissed impatiently.

"Thank you," Jack sighed, his eyes uncontrollably rolling into the back of his head. After a few second he realized that he was still conscious, even if he couldn't focus on anything through the haze of pain. "But I still have a feeling that you'll have more fun playing with me than you would with either Sam or Jacob."

Ba'al pursed his lips and slowly nodded. "There is really nothing that either the Lieutenant Colonel, nor her father have done to annoy me… where as you…"

Jack blinked slowly and caught his breath in his throat.

Ba'al *didn't* know that Jacob was Selmac.

"My Lord!" A Jaffa barged into the room and halted on his knees, kneeling with his head bowed.

"What is it?" He asked annoyed.

"One of our ships orbiting this planet detected ships entering the solar system then he lost their signal."

Jack watched the by-play on Ba'al's face, a little spark of hope igniting deep within the cold of his stunted soul.

Suddenly a loud explosion rocked the ship and a loud voice interrupted.

"This is Supreme Commander Thor of the Asgard Fleet. You have violated the Protected Planets Treaty and are hereby deemed a threat. You have 10 minutes to leave this world and its inhabitants behind."

Jack watched the genuine surprise glance over Ba'al's face and licked his lips as he saw the fear morph into outrage and defiance. He barked out orders to the Jaffa and Jack watched as he stumbled out of their presence and disappeared.

Ba'al watched him for a long moment and then a familiar sound came rushing to Jack's ears, warming every corner of his body that he could feel.

It was soon followed by fury that she hadn't followed his order… again.

Footsteps echoed through the halls until they subsided just outside of the doorframe. Jack saw Sam's head dart around the corner to assess the situation and then she was creeping in, with Daniel tucked in right behind her.

"This is Thor. You are again demanded to leave this planet; under the Treaty signed by the System Lords and the Asgard…"

Ba'al cried out in rage and stood boldly in the middle of the room as Thor continued to speak. Hand pressed to the ribbon device hooked around his wrist, Ba'al stood solitarily bold.

Daniel emerged from his hiding, his weapon trained on Ba'al and his voice low and dangerous. "Let him go, Ba'al, you've got nothing left."

"You are not in the position to be making demands, Dr. Jackson," he hissed back.

"Jack?" Daniel called, edging around Ba'al.

"I'm alive, Daniel." He whispered.

"That's good to hear," Daniel smiled, catching his hooded eyes with a worried smile.

There was weapons fire in the hall again, shouts of agony and fury. One loud explosion rocked the entire section of the ship and Jack wondered if that had been C-4 or something from the Asgard. At that point, riding his pain into near delirium, Jack didn't care.

"Ah, Lieutenant Colonel Carter, I was to congratulate you on your promotion."

"I'm flattered, Ba'al." she sneered, half of her face hidden behind her gun.

Jack knew that the only thing preventing Ba'al from using his ribbon device on either of them was the fact that it was occupied in the task of protecting him.

"This is quite a dilemma you've gotten yourself into, Ba'al. I mean, if you really do make it out of here, the System Lords are never going to accept you back for breaking the Treaty and really, what are the chances that you'll make it out of here alive?" Jack asked, gaining a little bit of coherence with the struggle he could see Ba'al having.

Slowly Ba'al turned his head and his eyes flashed in defiance, his heavy hand shifting so that the ribbon was aimed directly to his head. Jack could still hear the shield humming and wondered what it was that Ba'al was up to pointing the device at him if he couldn't use it.

Out of the corner of his faded vision, Jack saw Carter move from her position, kneel, clutch and throw.

The blood that spurted from Ba'al's neck from the protruding point of the knife fell over Jack's abdomen. Jack was too glad to be seeing the dying light of the Goa'uld flash in his eyes before Ba'al's limp body fell slowly down onto him.

The sudden impact of his weight and the tenderness of Jack's entire body exploded in sucking pain and drew him back down into unconsciousness.

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\

Softly hushed voices tickled the edge of Jack's mind, drawing him from the glorious blissfulness of his dreams.

"… The unit wasn't designed to hand such subtle, yet serious damage." Came Sam's soft understanding voice and other's shifted on their feet.

"He was in there a long time." Jacob sighed.

"That was compensation for the damage. Ba'al worked him over good."

"Shhhh." Jack hushed them, turning his head slightly and finally cracking his eyes open.

Sam's worried gaze met him as she knelt by his head. In the background, Jack could see the cold grey metals of an Asgard fleet vessel and sighed internally. Satisfied, Jack wiggled his toes.

Tears sparkled from the bottom of Sam's eyelids and lost the surrender with gravity. "Hey," she greeted without even a tremor in her voice. Her hand rose and lay across his forehead. "Gave us a little bit of a scare when Ba'al fell on you."

He thought for a moment of the searing, unavoidable heat of pain that had engulfed his body on impact and grimaced. "Yeah, me too."

Sam leaned forward and graced him with a tender kiss for a moment before standing, allowing both Daniel and Jacob to stand over him.

He smiled at them. "Hey."

Daniel ran a hand through his hair and grinned. "Hey."

"It's good to see you awake, Jack. The Asgard almost didn't make it on time." Jacob commented, standing at the head of the bed and glancing behind at the control panel where Thor stood.

"Thor!"

"General." Thor greeted with his usual aplomb. "The regeneration cycle for your injuries was unusually long and I believe that you should rest for another couple of days before returning to the surface."

"So Ba'al and all of his goons are gone?"

"After Sam killed Ba'al, the rest of the Jaffa pretty much laid down their weapons without hesitation. The Asgard are giving them the choice of joining the rebels or releasing them into the wild again." Daniel said, looking across the bed where Sam now stood on the other side of Jack. "Needless to say, their dedication to Ba'al wasn't a whole lot."

"And Jason and Lisa?"

Jacob cleared his throat. "We found her even before we went after you. She'd been guarded right near the entrance to the ship so that when Ba'al talked with Jason, he wouldn't have to take him anywhere. Jason knew exactly where she was, which was a great help."

Sam sighed. "We sent him right out again. Didn't want him to get overzealous with the Jaffa and give us away."

Jack grinned through a yawn.

Trying to sit up he looked over at Thor. "Hey, Thor, not that this metal slab isn't comfortable, but do you have an actual bed somewhere around here?"

"Of course," he said and Jack was instantly transported into another room.

Sam had come with him.

She stared at him, as he lay on the bed, turned to face her. His own heart was thudding in his throat at the reality of having her still within his grasp. He cleared his throat.

"So, you disobeyed a direct order again, Colonel."

Something indefinable flickered across her face before she moved to the bed with him and silently crawled up next to him, curling herself into the familiar spot against his chest.

Her settling weight and her closeness cut anything from his mind as Jack wrapped his arms around her. He knew that he would have done exactly the same thing, with the exact amount of determination as she had. He also would have killed the Goa'uld with the same precision and ruthlessness that had calculated her movements on that ship.

He couldn't blame her.

He didn't.

And as she lay against him, crying silently into his shirt, his mind flickered through his darkest thoughts. Comforted by her presence and stability, the moments of pain and despair flittered away into the nether regions of his consciousness and words appeared on the screen of his mind.

Out of calm and hope, he prayed:

"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. And should I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take."

// FIN \\

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