Jack woke up the next morning looking into the tired face of General O'Neill. This sight brought back memories of the dream he'd had during the night that had him begging for mercy from the guards one moment and staring into the angry eyes of his counterpart the next. Judging from the bruise the General sported on his chin as he sat there staring at him, O'Neill had every right to be angry. Oh man, Jack thought, would this never end?

"What happened?" Jack asked as he stared at O'Neill's face. "Did you and Teal'c get into a fight?" He tried to smile as he spoke, but he was too worried about the truth to put a whole lot of effort into it.

"Nope," O'Neill responded as he sat on the bed. "You and I did though."

"Sorry," Jack replied, wishing he hadn't asked in the first place. He waited for O'Neill to say something or at least release him from his bindings, but O'Neill didn't move. He just sat there waiting for God only knows what. Jack decided to just wait for the General to make up his mind and he focused on the top bunk to keep his mind off the memories of the dream that woke him a few minutes ago. It hadn't been as bad as the one that caused him to punch out his counterpart, but it still made him cringe with fear.

"Well, it was worth a try," O'Neill finally said as he got up to walk over to the sink that was on one side of the cell.

"What was worth a try?" Jack asked, then nodded at Teal'c who came into view. "Will you release me Teal'c?"

"Yes," Teal'c responded, as he came over to unlock the bindings.

"Mackenzie always tried it, so I thought I would," O'Neill said as he brought over a cup of water, offering it to him when he had been released. "You know, the silent treatment."

"Oh," Jack said, as he felt the stirrings of a genuine smile creep up on him. "He does have that technique down pat," he added, the smile making him feel a little better. "You'll need to work on your delivery just a tad bit more, though."

"I'll practice on the look he has on his face when he tries that stuff," O'Neill said, grinning broadly at Jack. "Who knows, that guy may just find himself looking for another job."

"Not likely," Jack replied. He was glad that O'Neill didn't hold anything against him, but he was also worried about what was in store for them during the next couple days, weeks or even months.

"I'll be fine Jack," he said, hoping to convince O'Neill that all this was not necessary. "I just need to get away from here."

O'Neill just shook his head, as Jack knew he would. He was stuck here and he might as well get used to that fact. He sat back against the wall, leaning his head back to work on getting his thoughts together, but brought it back up in shock when O'Neill asked him outright, "Who's Taria?"

Jack didn't respond right away. He just stared at his counterpart in surprise as memories of his mate ran through his mind. He remembered her laughter and smiles on the day they were given to each other and of the nights of steamy, glorious lovemaking that eventually evolved into the obligatory 'let's get this over with' attempts to produce a child by the time he was rescued. He didn't even know what had happened to her once the members of SG-3 walked up and grabbed him to take him home. Even now, he wasn't sure he cared.

"Jack?" O'Neill prompted with determination.

"My wife," Jack responded dully. It bothered him in some way that he didn't know her whereabouts or if she was still alive. She was, after all, his mate. The woman he shared a bed with, who made sure he ate even when he insisted he wasn't hungry. She knew of his distrust and hatred of her, but she still tried to make it up to him, to atone for the agony she had put him through. "Damned bitch," he muttered as he tried to shake off the deeper feelings he had for her. She had betrayed him and here he was falling for her charms when she wasn't anywhere near him. He was definitely one sick puppy.

"Your wife," O'Neill repeated. "I take it you didn't like her?"

"I didn't have a choice," Jack ground out angrily. "I was a slave, Jack. If Handar proclaimed she was my wife, then by God, she was my wife. She was pretty and I was strong – just imagine the children we would produce," he continued sarcastically.

He stopped speaking then and tried not to dwell on the woman who had destroyed him with just one decision. But she had played a major role in his life for the past eight months and the memories just seemed to slip out.

"And she 'was' pretty," he added, feeling his anger slip just a little, as he remembered the beginning of their relationship. "She was the only one in that whole place who could find something to laugh about. She just seemed to light up the darkness of that place and I have to admit I was glad when she was given to me." O'Neill and Teal'c were just sitting there letting him talk and Jack found that once he had started he couldn't stop.

"She helped me through some bad times at first when I wouldn't give in to the demands of Handar and his guards. They had some pretty harsh punishments for people who fought against being a slave. I'd survived worse, though." This was said with a sardonic look at O'Neill, who nodded his head in agreement. They both knew all about pain and agony, having spent some time visiting with the Iraqis during his Black Ops days and with a certain Goa'uld who had a penchant for knives, acid and anti-gravity experiments.

"Taria kept me going at first. She was determined that I would live so that she wouldn't be left alone to face the life of a widow. That ain't a pretty life, let me tell you," Jack advised sagely. "I thought she loved me," he continued, his face darkening as he thought about her betrayal. "Guess I was wrong."

He was not going to go to that place in his mind, Jack resolved determinedly. No way in hell would he ever go through that again. He was working so hard on warding off the memories he had been leading up to that he flinched when O'Neill called out his name.

"What?" he asked gruffly, as he glared at the General.

"Hello? Where were you?" O'Neill responded sarcastically. "You were telling us about your wife, then you spaced out. Are you going to finish your story?"

"No," Jack replied. "I'm hungry. Where's breakfast?"

"Probably still in the kitchen," Jack said with a small grin. "What did you eat while you were in Hulmeshur?"

"Steak and eggs, with pancakes and real maple syrup," Jack replied acidly. "I was a slave, Jack. What did you expect?"

"I expect you to tell me everything that happened to you while you were there so that I can go back to Washington to get lost in the Pentagon again."

"No one's keeping you here," Jack responded.

"Oh yes you are," O'Neill said evenly. He was starting to get royally pissed and Jack knew the signs when he saw them, but he really didn't care at the moment.

"Okay. You win. I'll tell you everything. I woke up in the morning, worked all day in the fields or the mines, whichever they decided for the day, and I went to bed at night. Whew! Am I glad I got that off my chest. You can go home now."

Jack realized that he may have pushed just a little too hard when O'Neill stood up with a look of such intense rage that Jack thought maybe he was still back on Hulmeshur after all and he was facing Handar's wrath. He trembled a little at that thought, but held his ground as he glared back at his counterpart.

O'Neill didn't say a thing. Jack knew it was because he didn't trust himself to speak, but that didn't ease the sudden apprehension that sprang up in his heart. He was so dead.

"O'Neill," Teal'c said from his observation point. "Perhaps you should go and see if our breakfast is ready. I will stay here to keep Gallagher company."

O'Neill shook his head, then went over to the table and grabbed one of the chairs to pull it back into the cell. He placed the chair in front of Jack, then sat down on it as he faced his clone. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell us everything," O'Neill insisted, his anger hidden as he stared at Jack with an emotionless expression. "Start talking," he demanded.

"I've got nothing to say to you," Jack replied.

"Is this the way you behaved while you were being held a slave?" Teal'c asked. Jack looked at him in surprise. What was this? The good cop/bad cop routine? Teal'c wasn't the type to pry, yet here he was getting up close and personal.

"Yeah," Jack responded. He continued to stare at Teal'c, daring him to ask something else. Teal'c just stared back stoically, which was worse as far as Jack was concerned. What was that guy thinking?

"Were you punished for your behavior?"

Jack didn't respond right away. He was surprised that Teal'c would push the issue and he could tell that O'Neill was surprised by the Jaffa's question as well. "Yes," he finally responded, wondering what Teal'c was getting at.

"Tell us what punishments were administered," Teal'c insisted, shocking both O'Neill and his clone. What the hell? Jack thought as he stared at Teal'c. He could understand if the question came from O'Neill, but Teal'c? Jack finally closed his mouth, as he realized that this was way too weird for him, thank you very much.

"Teal'c?" O'Neill asked in surprise. "You feeling all right there, T?"

Teal'c nodded his head as he answered O'Neill's question, "I am well, O'Neill, thank you."

O'Neill stared at Teal'c for a moment longer before dragging his stare to focus on Jack. "Well?"

"Well what?" He had decided to make them work for every last admission.

"What did they do to you?" O'Neill asked, exasperation making an appearance. "I've been told on good authority that it would be good for you to talk about it."

"Who told you that?" Jack asked to stall his friends. He was going to avoid this conversation if at all possible.

"Let me guess," O'Neill replied, apparently ready to take on his own game. "You were whipped, beaten and starved. Am I close?"

"Yeah," Jack admitted. That was only the beginning. As long as he didn't have to go through the worst, he'd be okay.

"Okay. Now we're getting somewhere," O'Neill said, as he rubbed his hands together. "What did they do to you when Taria betrayed you?" he asked.

Bastard, Jack thought nastily. "What makes you think she betrayed me?" he asked, stalling the inevitable. He just knew O'Neill wasn't going to give up until Jack had given up every last drop of blood.

"She did something to make you hate her," O'Neill responded with a shrug. "You talked about her as if you loved her, but you say you don't, so I just came up with a scenario. Tell us. What happened between you two?"

"Nothing," Jack insisted. He got up from the bed and began pacing, as he tried to calm his racing heart. He went up to the bars and curled his fingers around the smooth metal, just as he did the day before, hoping to find something to focus on other than the memory they were trying to force him to relive.

"Jack?"

"I can't do this right now," Jack shouted in response. "I just… I can't do this, okay? Jesus!" he said, as he realized he was trembling again.

"Okay," O'Neill said, getting up from the chair to come over to him. "You don't have to talk about it right now. Let's focus on something else." He put his hand on Jack's shoulder to comfort him, but Jack was too wound up to accept the gesture. He pulled away from O'Neill, then turned his back to the bars and slid down until he was seated on the floor.

"I'll be all right," Jack insisted, hoping he was telling the truth. He sat there as he tried to calm his still racing heart and stared at the bed he had just vacated. Teal'c was standing next to the bed watching everything, while O'Neill stood where Jack had left him, waiting for his chance to make amends. "I'll be all right," he said again, in an effort to convince them, as well as himself.

"We'll be right here," O'Neill responded quietly. Jack could only nod his head to acknowledge that he had heard. He was suddenly very tired, but knew that this wasn't the end of it. He was facing a long day and he grimaced as he realized that this was not the end of his terror.

The next hour progressed much smoother after that, as Teal'c and O'Neill both left him and his memories alone. Jack was grateful for the respite even as he worried about the next time. And he knew without a doubt that there would be a next time. Jack had inadvertently given them the ammunition they needed to win this battle and he knew that it was just a matter of time before they destroyed him as effectively as Taria had.

He finally got up from his seat on the floor when Carter and Daniel brought in their breakfast. He tried to ignore the inquiring looks on the faces of his friends and the nod they'd received from the General in response. He found that he was a little angry that they were all conspiring against him, just waiting for him to make a mistake. The guards on Hulmeshur were the same way. One little mistake would have him wishing he had never been born.

Everyone in the room suddenly became quiet when he dropped his plate in his agitation. Panic set in as he realized they were all looking at him. Taria came over to him to tell him that it was all right and stooped down to pick up the dish, but Jack knew there was no saving him now. The guards had seen everything and he felt hatred seep into his being when one of them came up to grab his arm.

He was determined that he wouldn't go down without a fight and he swung at the guard in an effort to get away. He knew there was nowhere to go, but in his current state of mind he didn't care. He was destined for the vise anyway, why not give them incentive to kill him and get it over with?

He put up a good fight, but as he had come to learn, his best was never good enough. The guards overpowered him and he was strapped to the table with the clamps placed firmly around his chest. He lay there and waited for the pain, determined that this time he would not give them the satisfaction.

He waited, but nothing happened. The guards were talking amongst themselves, while one of them was saying, "We pushed him too hard. Mackenzie warned me about that, but I guess I didn't realize I was pushing." Jack scrunched up his forehead as he puzzled over the words. Mackenzie?

"You couldn't have known," Taria told the guard before coming over to sit on the bed and put her hand on his arm. Jack knew he'd blown it again when he realized that the woman sitting next to him was Colonel Carter and not Taria. Oh crap!

"I did it again, didn't I?" he whispered angrily. "Why am I doing that?"

"I don't know," she responded, as she pushed the hair off of his forehead. "We'll figure it out though. I promise."

He wanted to believe her, he really did, but how could he when they were all waiting to push the next button to set him off again? "They were going to use the vise," he said, thinking that if he told them what he experienced during the flashback, maybe he wouldn't have them anymore.

"The vise?" Carter asked, as she gave him a puzzled look.

"Yeah," Jack replied, as the others came up to hear what he had to say. "They had a different name for it, but I never could pronounce it right, so I ended up giving it a name that matched its use."

The others were quiet, waiting to see if he would finish what he'd started. He knew they were afraid to push him now and this thought made him feel better about them being there. They really weren't as heartless as he sometimes thought they were.

"Basically they put me on a table with clamps that went around my chest and pushed the lever that caused the clamps to squeeze until my ribs cracked and my lungs deflated. They released the clamps when my lips turned blue and waited until I was breathing properly again before doing it all over again. Nice people, don'tcha think?" This was said with a grimace, but he then had to smile when Daniel uttered the word, "Ouch!"

"Ditto!" O'Neill proclaimed as he, too, grimaced at the description.

"I hated it when they did that," Jack added, "But that was nowhere near as bad as…" he stopped, knowing deep down that this was the memory that drove him to the brink of insanity. He mentally stepped back from the memory and tried to smile at his friends. "Do you think you can trust me enough to release me so that I can eat?"

"Yeah sure," O'Neill said, as he stared at him with a thoughtful expression. Jack knew he was going to have a hard time hiding anything from O'Neill. That man knew him too well for Jack to try to pull the wool over his eyes.

Carter began to unlock the restraints while Daniel told him, "We've got eggs and pancakes. I tried to get the cook to throw in some steaks, but he is still mad at me for the last time I made him cook one." This was said with a guilty look, but Jack still remembered that meal with gusto.

"Don't encourage him Daniel," O'Neill snarled at his friend, causing Daniel to stare at him in confusion.

"Huh?" Daniel asked, obviously wondering what it was he had done this time.

"Just don't encourage him," O'Neill repeated and Jack realized that he was feeling better now that he was with his friends who didn't think he had totally lost his mind. Well, at least not completely.

He filled a new plate with food and took it back to the bed to sit down and eat, while the others crowded around the table to fill their own plates. Carter brought her food over to sit down next to him, which did a lot to help Jack get over the feelings of guilt in having given into the memories again. He hadn't frightened her away yet.

"What can you tell us about that place?" O'Neill asked as he sat down in the chair he had brought in earlier. "Besides the fact that it was hot and sweltering."

Jack didn't respond right away, he just took his time in chewing on the piece of pancake that he had in his mouth. They were all there eating while watching him, waiting for him to talk or to jump over the edge or whatever his crazy thoughts prompted him to do. He swallowed his food and stared down at his plate, knowing deep down that the sooner he talked, the sooner he would be released from this cell. He was just too afraid that talking about it would cause him to lose it for good.

He looked up to see that Daniel was sitting in the other chair, chewing on his food while waiting quietly for the answer to O'Neill's question. Daniel's silence was more expressive than his words could ever be. Daniel was the animated one of the group, always spouting off about what he perceived to be right, pushing the others to see things his way, and just generally focusing on righting the wrongs of the galaxy. Daniel's silence worried Jack and he wondered if maybe it meant that his friend had given up on him.

"You don't have to tell us anything that will send you into a frenzy," O'Neill insisted. "Why don't you start with what happened when you first arrived there?"

Jack brought his attention back to O'Neill. That guy was determined to break through Jack's armor and he didn't know whether he was happy with this thought or not. "I was knocked out during the battle and woke up on the floor of a room that smelled of rotten potatoes," he responded, thinking that it couldn't hurt to tell them about the beginning of his internment as a slave. "The people that were in the room with me just stared right through me as if I wasn't there." He smiled at this memory; he had tried everything to get through to the man who was sitting on the floor next to him. The man, who he had come to know was named Dargan, had been too lethargic to get up enough energy to even answer the stranger.

"I couldn't get out because the door of the room had been locked from the outside. So I tried to find another way out." He had been disappointed to find that there were no windows in the room, but he just knew that there had to be a way out of that place. "The fact that there were no windows hampered my escape, but I still held out hope."

He stopped speaking and looked over at Carter, who was sitting there watching him as she chewed on her own food. He was struck anew at how beautiful she really was. He had to give up on any thoughts he had of them getting together the moment he had come to terms with the fact that he was, for all intents and purposes, twenty years younger than she was. Not to mention he'd have to fight the original Jack O'Neill, so he had worked hard to push any feelings he had for her into the attic of his mind, where he stored all of his other repressed memories.

"The whole place was surrounded by an electrified fence that didn't have any openings," he continued. "I know, because I spent every spare moment looking for one. There really wasn't any need for an opening in the fence as the land on the other side of the fence was an unforgiving desert where even the insects couldn't survive. Handar had everything he needed inside the fence - water, vegetation and livestock were kept in the oasis he had taken over for himself. He had even built a palace in which to live the life of luxury in such an unforgiving environment." Jack frowned as he thought about the injustice of having to live in the rundown shacks with the rest of the slaves. "The slaves were forced to sleep in hovels that were barely strong enough to withstand a sandstorm, let alone keep out the other elements. Handar didn't care though. To him we were just commodities to keep his life happy."

"The guards came in not long after I realized I was stuck for the moment and took me to see Handar," Jack continued as he savored the eggs. "That guy is such an asshole, which I had already realized when he encouraged his men to continue the attack during the battle SG-8 and I fought. Anyway, he took great pleasure in telling me that I was officially one of his slaves and went into great detail in telling me what was expected of me." This was said with a grimace as he remembered Handar's description that slaves were not even considered to be human, just animals that survived only to make their master's life enjoyable.

"Life as a slave was hard," Jack continued, his food forgotten as he delved deeper into the memories of that hellhole. "We were not allowed to do anything unless we were given permission. We worked from daylight to dark in the sweltering heat of that place, which tended to drain me of the energy to even try to think of escape. But then again, I'm not one to accept life as a slave and tried to get out anyway." He smiled then when O'Neill grunted at that remark, but the smile dimmed as he continued to dwell on the past. "The guards knew how to handle those who refused to give in to their demands of servitude, and I was beaten and starved in their efforts to force me into their way of thinking."

Carter reached over to put her hand on his back and he grinned at her as she rubbed his back in an effort to ease his anguish. If she only knew the worst of it, he thought, as he remembered his food and took another bite to give him a minute to collect his thoughts before continuing his story.

"At first it was the standard punishments - you know, whippings, starvation, left out to bake in the sun, that sort of thing, but when they realized that I was a stubborn idiot, they decided to drag out the big guns and resorted to other punishments to get me to see things their way." Okay, he could do this. Just tell them what happened so that he could be released from this cell. Easier said than done, Jack realized as his fear moved into the forefront. He took a deep breath and continued, "The vise was just one of their toys. They also had a device that resembled a pain stick, except that it would burn the skin as it sent bolts of fire throughout my whole body. Oh man, that thing hurt!" he exclaimed, as he gave Carter his plate so that he could pull his feet up on the bed. "I called it a lightning rod because my skin would be charred where they touched me with it, just like the spot on a tree after being struck by lightning."

"Then there was Taria," he said to steer his memories away from the painful moments of his imprisonment in that place.

"His wife," O'Neill supplied for Carter and Daniel's benefit.

"Yeah, my wife," he snarled. "Handar was under the impression that his slaves wouldn't want to leave if they had a family to keep them there. So I hadn't been there a week before he told me that Taria was officially my wife and that we were expected to start popping out kids to add to the slave pool. I was also told that if I did manage to escape, she would be…" He stopped suddenly, realizing that his fear had increased ten-fold and he retreated into silence as he pushed away the horrors of his memories.

"What was she like?" Carter asked, in an obvious attempt to bring him back out. He looked up just in time to see O'Neill shake his head at her to warn her off, but Jack wanted out of this place and he made an effort to answer her question.

"She was young and pretty and she loved to laugh," he said, as he focused on memories of the woman he had come to love during the beginning of his relationship with her. "She was always smiling despite the miserable life we led. I always wondered how she was able to keep her spirits up amongst the misery in that place, but she did and her smile seemed to lighten the mood." He really did love her, he realized, as the memories of the nights they spent getting to know each other washed over him. He had resisted at first, worried that if he gave in, he would be signing his life away, but he wasn't as strong as he liked to believe when she turned to him in the night begging him to keep her safe while she kissed him and touched his soul with her smiles. Sadness filled him then and he put his chin on his knees to keep the horrors away. What had happened to Taria now that he was gone?

"She was a bitch," he growled out, resorting to the anger he felt at her betrayal to force himself not to care. She had put her own selfish needs in front of his safety in order to protect herself, and he had paid the ultimate price because of it. "The guards used us against each other to keep us in line," he added as he glared at the bars of his cell. "They figured that we wouldn't want to do anything to cause the other to suffer for whatever wrong we did. I remember them tearing the skin off of her back with a whip because I didn't bring in enough vegetables one day and Lord knows how many beatings I'd received because of her. They only hurt her once because of something I did though," he added with a wicked smile. "I couldn't let them get away with that and from that point on, they took their anger at whatever I did out on me." Jack remembered all too well the beating he'd received after he'd kicked the hell out of the guard who had the job of punishing Taria for Jack's sin. He had made it clear that they were not to hurt her because of him, and the guards respected that, if only because they didn't want to deal with his anger. The unfortunate guard had been laid up for three days after Jack got through with him.

"I'm not surprised," O'Neill said from the chair he was sitting on. Jack stared at him for a moment, but realized that O'Neill wasn't even looking at him. He was off somewhere in his own memories, remembering something that Jack didn't even try to dredge up. He was too lost in his own recent past to try to figure out what O'Neill was thinking.

Jack went back to staring at the bars, feeling Carter's gentle touch as she continued to rub her hand over his back. She had been doing that for some time now, he realized. It was comforting and he realized he was grateful once again for her being there.

"What happened to Taria?" Daniel asked, as he got up to take his plate to the table. Jack didn't respond. Instead he jumped up off the bed and put some distance between himself and the others in the room. He began to pace back and forth as he looked at them, trying to deal with his fears. The room was suddenly suffocating him and he wanted out. He had to get away from that place!

He stared at his friends while he paced, noticing that O'Neill stood next to his overturned chair, while Daniel had stopped in his tracks to stare at him with concern. Teal'c had also gotten to his feet, ready and willing to step in if his help was needed, while Carter was still sitting on the bed staring at him with a look of surprise on her face. All four of them were there for him, he knew, but he also knew he could easily lose their friendship with just one admission of his guilt.

"Jack?" O'Neill said to break the silence. "Are you still with us here?"

Jack nodded as he tried to smile even as he continued his pacing. "I just need to get out of here," he said, hoping it didn't sound like he was begging. Ah hell, why not beg if it would accomplish his objective. "What's the weather like up there?"

"Cold," O'Neill responded, "You'd freeze to death out there." He bent down to pick up the chair he had knocked over when he'd jumped up and he set it back to rights. "You'd definitely turn into a popsicle wearing those clothes," he continued, pointing at the linen pants and shirt Jack was wearing.

"What's wrong with my clothes?" he asked, as he looked down at himself. "They were definitely the rage back on Hulmeshur. Everybody wanted to be wearing them." He smiled then as he saw relief in the faces of his friends, although he was still pacing. He was going to make it; it just took perseverance on his part, that's all. "Well, since I am stuck in this place with you guys, did anyone remember to bring a deck of cards?"