He has no idea how many fantasies Fifth has put him through. How many sick, twisted realities. He has seen Sam slip further and further away from, so far beyond his reach that he cannot imagine touching her. Fifth taunts him with a Sam married to Pete, happy with her life, leaving the SGC, living far away. And for moments, Jack believes it. Why should he not? He never truly believed Sam would ever be his. He always knew he would lose her. He just didn't expect it to hurt quite so much.

But always, as he's about to give up, Cassie appears. Drags him back to reality. To torture and pain, but a reality where he hasn't quite lost Sam, not yet.

"What is it you want, you twisted little shit-bag?" Jack asked. He was getting used to this now, and the little scenarios Fifth played out for him were shorter and shorter, as Jack figured out what was going on. He hadn't even needed Cassie to drag him out of the last one.

"I want you to admit it." Fifth said, calmly. Jack, lying on the floor, twisted his head so he could see the boy. He thought he saw, in the shadows, for a second, another figure, but it was gone when he looked closer. Melted into the wall.

"Admit what?" Jack asked. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he needed time to regain his strength. Then, once he was strong enough, he would rip the little fucker's head off. But first, he had to be able to stand up, and that seemed like a very remote possibility at the moment.

"I asked her, but she wouldn't tell me. All she would say was that it wasn't her fault. Well, I knew that." Fifth knelt in front of Jack. "Of course it wouldn't be her fault. All she had to do was tell me who's fault it was. That's all I needed."

"Nope, still not getting it." Jack said, lying back. He wished he was stronger then he looked, right now. Pains shot through his knee and back, and every time he moved his head, the room swam in front of him. And he could still swear there was something in the corner, a familiar figure.

"You left me behind." Fifth hissed. He pulled Jack's shirt up until Jack's face was level with his. "I helped you, and you left me behind." Spittle flew out of his mouth, and landed on Jack's face, but he couldn't move to wipe it away. Fifth was insane, and strong, and God only knew what he could do in this state. Sam had given no details of her torture in her report, but Jack was beginning to see how terrifying it must have been.

"I gave that order. Not her." Jack said, suddenly cold at the image of Sam in Fifth's hands. Why hadn't Sam told Fifth that? Saved herself all this?

"I know that. I'm not stupid." Fifth snapped, throwing Jack back down. "But I wanted her to tell me. She wouldn't. She kept on saying it wasn't her fault, but she never said a name. I knew, once she told me the name, your name, I'd broken her, but she wouldn't." Fifth voice had changed. No longer angry, now he was surprised, unsure of why Sam had done it. "Do you want to hear?" Fifth said, spinning round, quickly, facing Jack. Fifth waved his arm.

The room was silent for a second. Then the sound of Sam's sobbing filled the chamber. Jack winced. This hurt more than any of the fantasies. She rarely cried, he could only remember her doing it a few times, but this was more than grief. This was pain. She was sobbing in pain.

Then it got worse. Sam screamed. Sam, who never screamed, was screaming now. Crying and sobbing and begging Fifth to stop. She was shouting 'It wasn't my fault, not my fault!' but then the incoherent cries of pain came again.

She had been in agony. Her mind ripped apart by this man. She had insisted it wasn't her fault. Yet not once did she say 'Colonel O'Neill made me do it'. Not once. Jack's anger flooded through him. She hadn't had to save him, he would have been glad for her to say his name, to save herself, but here she was screaming, suffering. His weakness was gone. With an incoherent cry of rage, he stood up and launched himself at Fifth, intending to rip the Replicator son of a bitch right down to his individual components.

But Fifth anticipated him, and reached round, plunging his hand into Jack's mind. Jack faltered and fell, and then, blessedly, passed out.

He slept, thankfully dreamlessly. Once he thought he woke, and saw Carter peering at him, like a specimen, but when he woke up again, she was gone, and he thought it must have been a product of his pummelled mind. When he did wake, finally, Fifth was kneeling in front of him.

"Tell me why she didn't give me your name." Fifth asked, disinterestedly.

Jack swallowed dryly.

"I don't know." he croaked. Fifth reached into his mind again. Jack cried silently, and tried, ineffectually, to block the boy's hand, but it was no use. Fifth pulled his hand out again.

"You really don't know." he said, surprised. "But I need to know. You must have some idea."

Jack shook his head.

"You were there in her head, when I reached in. Hundreds of images of you. She tried to hide them, but her mind was full of you. Why?" Fifth asked, curious.

"No idea." Jack told him, his voice almost indistinct. Somewhere, some unconscious part of his mind stored away the precious knowledge that Fifth had just told him, but he was too tired and too battered to work out the implications of that just then.

"I gave her a relationship with the man she was having a relationship with in reality. But she refused to accept it. Would she have done if it had been you?"

"Why the hell do you want to know?" he asked, too worn out to think through what was being said to him. Fifth smiled a little.

"I want to know everything about her."

"Why?"

"Because I love her."

Jack stared at him in shock for a second. Then, much to Fifth's surprise, Jack threw back his head and laughed, loudly.