Author's note: Thanks again for reading and all your comments! And for the reviewer who asked whether the Replicators would figure out their plan if they got captured - they've basically moved on to Plan D, which means it's a higher priority to stop the city from leaving than it is a risk for them to get captured. They would have assumed at this point that the Replicators would get the fake plan from Woolsey before bothering to interrogate anyone else. Also, the Daedalus should be there in less than an hour.

Enjoy the next chapter!

"I can't believe we're still going to be vaporized," Woolsey muttered.

Jack sat back on the bench.

"Yeah, well, I've had better days."

He hoped that Sheppard was right and that Sam was okay out there. McKay had nearly given him a heart attack with those evasive comments about her location and unexpected message from her. Not that the message content had been unexpected, but hearing that she forced Rodney McKay to pass it along made him fear that she was at least seriously injured.

Sam never referenced their relationship with people they worked with unless those people were true friends.

McKay was no friend.

He comforted himself with the certainty that had been in Sheppard's voice.

If nothing else, he needed to believe that Samantha Carter would make it out of here alive, even if that meant he wouldn't make it out with her.

"What was that you were arguing with McKay about?"

Jack turned his head to see that Woolsey was now beside him on the bench.

"You didn't hear?"

He vaguely remembered Woolsey pacing at the back of the cell, muttering about McKay's revelations, but it wasn't like he'd been worried about trying to be quiet when he was trying to find out whether Sam was alive.

Jack told himself that it would be okay if Woolsey found out that he and Carter were together. After all, they weren't breaking any rules.

The truth was, he wouldn't really mind it if more people knew that they were together. Although he had no interest in opening his heart to Woolsey, it would be kind of nice if someone understood the extra layer of stress he was under with his girlfriend out there, her status potentially unknown.

His mind stuttered again on the word girlfriend. It had never felt exactly right, but it was starting to feel downright wrong.

"I heard you were arguing, but I was a little preoccupied with the fact that we're going to be vaporized."

Woolsey didn't seem like he was lying and Jack wasn't sure if he was glad or disappointed that the other man had clearly missed the whole exchange about Sam.

"McKay was being an ass and wouldn't tell me why Carter wasn't there to break us out."

Jack observed Woolsey closely, but didn't see any suspicions arise at his mention of Carter.

"You think she would've done a better job at it?"

There was no question in his mind. McKay clearly had no idea what he'd been doing.

"Hell yeah."

Woolsey took a deep breath. "Then I wish she'd been here too."

They sat there in silence. Jack counted the bars in the cell and tried not to worry too deeply about the situation they were now in. He even tried thinking the door open, in hopes that his ATA gene would help them get out of here. Nothing happened.

"Does Sheppard have a backup plan?"

Apparently Woolsey missed that part of the conversation too. For a man who prided himself on his observation skills, Richard Woolsey was certainly out of his element during life and death situations.

"I think that was the backup plan," Jack admitted. "I ordered him out of here and to get everyone to safety. I hope he can manage it."

He really hoped that Sheppard was able to get one of those other jumpers to work so they wouldn't have to rely on the one with the leak. Leaking water was bad enough, but if they tried to fly that jumper out, it would start leaking oxygen out into space.

"So there's no backup plan to save us?"

All of this would be a lot easier to deal with if Richard Woolsey could stop himself from continuously asking questions that underscored what deep shit they were in. Jack didn't need any reminders that things were FUBAR.

"Not that I'm aware of, Richard."

Woolsey's body slumped in response, his hands going to his knees.

"Oh. That's not good."

"No," he replied. "No, it's not."

The annoying part about facing death was that it left you too much time to think back on your life and all of the things you'd done wrong. This type of death anyway, where it was all about waiting for the end to come.

There were a lot of things he'd done well in his life. He had a lot of things to be proud of. None of it made up for the death of his son, and over the years he'd done better about coming to terms with that loss, but Jack knew that saving the universe however many times they'd done it had to count for something.

There were also plenty of things he'd done wrong. Military decisions that had cost people's lives or made situations worse, forgetting to double check that his gun was locked up and out of reach one summer day, not being there for his ex-wife after that tragedy, and more.

The regret that came to him most these days, especially since he returned to Atlantis, was that he'd let Sam think he was okay with locking their feelings in that room years ago. They had lost so much time together and now they were about to lose the rest.

He was happy with their relationship. He was. They were happy together. And even though their "living together" meant splitting their things between a townhouse and a home in two different states, they were making it work.

Lately, he was just starting to wonder if it was all just a variation on the room...where he was afraid to tell her that he wanted more because if he did he might lose it all.

Now he might never get the chance.

"So we just wait to die?" Woolsey asked.

Jack grimaced.

"If we're lucky. Otherwise our Replicator friends might come back for fun mental torture before the Daedalus nukes the city."

Woolsey groaned.

"Again? I couldn't take it the first time."

Jack didn't particularly like it either. He still had a headache from the first time, not to mention that his clothes were still damp. He was also hungry and thirsty.

Plus, there was that pesky fact that he was going to die soon.

And maybe be tortured again first.

This was a really shitty day.

"I wish I could tell you that the mind-probing gets easier," Jack said, a note of apology in his voice.

"Maybe they won't come back."

Jack heard the desperate hope in Woolsey's voice.

Unfortunately, the Replicators returned.

They didn't say a word before sticking their hands in Jack and Woolsey's heads.

Jack opened his eyes. He was back in the 'gate room at the SGC. The Replicator with the bright blue eyes and wavy brown hair stood in front of him.

"There are many scenes from your life I can use to get you to tell me what I need to know. So much pain." The Replicator grinned. It was creepy. "Normally I don't have so many options to choose from."

Jack kept his face as blank as possible. He only remembered bits and pieces of his previous experiences being tortured by the Replicators, but he had a vague memory of being forced to remember Charlie's death in vivid detail.

"Well," he eventually responded, "feel free to take as much time as you need making a decision. I'm fine waiting."

Suddenly, he was in a hotel room with Sam. They were both sitting on the edge of the bed. The wide glass doors looked out onto a beach and the sun was sinking into the ocean at the horizon, spreading beautiful splashes of orange, pink, and crimson across the sky.

He was pretty sure this was the hotel they were supposed to go to on vacation. He remembered pictures of rooms where you could open the glass sliding doors of your room and walk right onto the beach.

Jack was confused. Normally, the Replicators liked to torture him with horrible things. This looked more like a fantasy.

Then Sam handed back a black velvet ring box and he understood. His heart crashed to the floor. This Replicator was just getting a little more creative with his torture.

"I've broken two other engagements," she said. "What makes you think I want to get married anyway?"

Jack grabbed Sam's hand before she could turn away.

"We don't have to get married. It was just an idea."

She looked at him with pity.

"Who said I wanted to get married to you? This was fun while it lasted."

Sam let go of his hand, got up off the bed, and walked out the glass doors. He followed her figure until she disappeared down the beach.

"This never happened."

The Replicator stood beside him. "But you think it will."

Was that why his head had been going in circles during his time on Atlantis? Was he really worried that if he proposed to Sam that she'd walk away?

"Shall I show you what you worry might happen next? Do you want to see her wedding to another man?"

Jack had already been through that type of torture already when she was planning a wedding to Shanahan. He had no interest in doing it again.

"If you think this is enough to hurt me, enough to make me tell you whatever you want, you're wrong."

And yet, he continued to stare at the closed glass door while the sun sank below the horizon.

"You've been shot and you've lost those you love," the Replicator pointed out. "Which pain lingers longer? Which pain have you spent so much time and effort trying to avoid?"

Jack looked away from the door and fell back on the bed, not bothering to respond to the question when the answer was so evident. Jack really did not need a Replicator trying to play amateur psychiatrist.

"She's one of the others, isn't she?" the Replicator asked. "How many are here and what are they planning?"

Jack just glared in response.

"As amusing as this is, we'll try another way. Tell me what I need to know. Where are the others and what are they planning?"

Pain shot through Jack's chest and he looked down to see a knife protruding out of his clothes. He looked back up and a shiver ran down his spine.

He did his best not to remember this room, but here it was in vivid detail.

The octagonal platform and the table for torture implements. The weird angular wall sconces. The massive light fixture hanging from the ceiling that looked a little like stained glass.

"If you tell me what I wish to know," Ba'al promised, "I will end this."

The Replicator stood by Ba'al's side, watching and waiting.

"I'm not telling you anything."

Ba'al picked up another knife and gracefully rotated it in his hand, testing its weight and the sharpness of the blade. He was drawing it out so that Jack would have more time to think about the moment of impact.

Ba'al lifted the knife, pointed it towards him, and let it fly.

Jack forcefully kept his mouth shut, but couldn't help groaning at the sudden burst of pain.

"Tell me what I wish to know."

"Never," Jack ground out.

"Perhaps we should return to the Tal'vak acid. Maybe then you will tell us about the others."

Ba'al reached for the container of acid.

"Just tell us what we need to know," the Replicator said.

"I won't tell you anything."

"The truth will be rewarded," Ba'al said as he held the bottle out in front of him and smirked as if he'd already won.

Jack laughed. "I'm pretty sure you told me that before and I didn't believe you then either."

Ba'al tilted the bottle and released some of the liquid. The droplets flew through the air horizontally.

The acid hit his chest and started to burn through his body.

Jack screamed.

"What are they planning?"

His response was halting, voice sore from screaming. He remembered this feeling of hopelessness. He remembered the desperation in his words.

"I don't know! And I don't care!"

Jack blinked and the scene changed. He was tied to a chair next to where Ba'al stood. He looked over to the torture web. Sam was there, dressed in the outfit of the Lotar woman Kanaan had been in love with, her body immobile. There were tear tracks down her face, as if she'd been crying.

"Tell him what he wants to know, Jack," she pleaded.

Ba'al leaned down to whisper into his ear.

"Do you not know the pain she will suffer for your impudence?"

With this variation of Ba'al's question he couldn't joke around like he did last time, pretending not to know the definition of the word.

Jack knew this wasn't real, but it felt real.

"Please don't hurt her."

A smarmy smile slid across Ba'al's face. "Don't you understand? We're not hurting her. You're hurting her. We're hurting you."

He looked back to Sam. She was crying now, her body shaking with sobs.

"Please, Jack," she whispered. "Tell them what they need to know."

This wasn't right. The Sam Carter he knew wouldn't beg him to give information to the enemy just to save herself.

Ba'al lifted a knife from the table and aimed it at her.

"Are you sure you don't want to tell me anything, O'Neill?"

The real Sam Carter was relying on him to make sure they could get away safe. He wasn't going to say a word.

"No," he replied.

Jack winced, not wanting to watch the knife hit Carter, but unable to look away.

Then everything paused.

The Replicator smiled and Ba'al froze. The knife stopped mid-air and dropped to the floor. Sam disappeared, no longer held in place against Ba'al's web.

"Torturing you is much more entertaining," the Replicator said, "but your friend breaks easier. I shall return. We look forward to learning much more before we kill you."

The 'gate room faded and Jack was back in the holding cell.

He groaned and his hands shot up to his temples. Every time one of these evil machines put a hand in his head, his headache got worse. He also just felt awful and depressed.

Jack thought he remembered seeing Sam and being back in that torture room with Ba'al, but the memories were fractured. He knew he hadn't told them anything about Sheppard and McKay's plan.

As he came back to himself, Jack thought he felt the floor shake.

"We need to get to the shield emitter stations. Remove the C-4 explosive you find there."

Several of the Replicators left and the door to their holding cell was locked again.

He hoped they didn't find Sam and the others. Sheppard should have gotten them out of the city by now.

Jack turned to Woolsey and glared. "Way to resist."

"I said I wasn't good at this!" Woolsey whined.

That was quite possibly the understatement of the year. Woolsey would likely never be comfortable out in the field or dealing with enemy combatants. His preferred weapon was piles of paperwork. Still, Jack supposed that it was good that he was aware of his own weaknesses.

"Well, they do always say that it's important to know yourself."