AN1: When I first posted this story, I noted that I didn't like the title "Consequences" and was soliciting other suggestions. Of all the suggestions I got, my favorite is from StarrGazer: 'Under the Circumstances.' At this point, I'm going to change the title when I post the next chapter. Anyone has a better suggestion, or prefers 'Consequences,' speak now or forever hold your peace.

AN2: Thank you every one for your good eyes, I know Kynthia is a brunette. It just sorta slipped by me, there, a couple of chapters ago. >:( It has been corrected in my copy, though I probably won't bother updating the version posted here. When the whole thing gets posted in one piece elsewhere (such as Gateworld, Heliopolis, maybe Jackfic, Stargatefan, etc.), the version with Kynthia's correct hair color will be the one posted.

AN3: As to the possibility of Jack grovelling: Never Going to Happen. Thingswill get sorted out between them eventually (this being, despite it all, a happy fic at heart), but I do tend to prefer keeping characters, well, in character. And I can't see Jack grovelling, unless he screwed up way more than he has so far. Way, way more.

AN4:I know the stuff that's just recapping the ep is boring to those of you who've seen it recently. I happen to think it's kind of boring, as well. Alas, it is necessary. We'll be back to Sam in the SGC and original stuff next chapter, cross my heart. And not long after that, we'll be done with the stuff from the ep. Stay with me, it's almost over, I swear.

So far, Jack hadn't been able to find any secret chambers or passages, or any devices of any kind. Of course there were none in the main chamber; that would be too easy. Not that there were many side chambers; there were all kinds of alcoves that looked promising at first glance, but none of them contained doors, hidden or otherwise. Jack frowned at the brightly painted walls. He'd seen pictures of old Greek temples and statues and things; they'd been white. So why was this whole temple painted so garishly? Daniel probably knew, but all Jack really cared about was that it meant he had to look a lot closer to see any stuff that might be hidden under the paint.

"Is it true that you have lived thousands of days?"

At the question, Jack turned. He hadn't heard him come in; either he was losing his hearing along with his hairline, or he'd been distracted by his thoughts, or both. Alekos stood behind him, head cocked to one side. "I should have kept my mouth shut," Jack said. "But wouldn't you rather know the truth? Yeah. I've lived thousands of days."

Alekos turned to the statue. "Why do we deserve this?"

Jack snorted. "He can't hear you." But the Argosian ignored him.

"We are good people. We love each other and this land you have given us. Why?"

"Science, progress, knowledge…" Jack waved a hand, trying to get his meaning across. He studied the other man. "Alekos, what would you do if you had thousands of days ahead of you?" he asked, curious.

"I would walk out into the world, beyond the borders of the Chosen." The reply was simple, straightforward, almost childlike.

"Why?"

"To see what is there." Now, that sounded like something Daniel would say. "No one knows. Pelops has forbidden us ever to leave."

Again with the child-like trust in a snakehead. "And how has he done that? He's nothing but a big piece of rock. He's a statue."

Alekos looked aghast. "He will strike us down, it is taught."

"No, he will not strike you down," Jack said, annoyed. "Trust me on that, will you? Look, go on out there. Take a walk. See what's there. Go on …"

"Then I could return and teach the people what I know," Alekos said with more enthusiasm, "... and in their thousands of days they would learn more and teach their children!"

"Now you're talking!" Jack said. He felt a sudden surge of anger at that pretty picture and turned back to the wall he'd been examining. He wouldn't be passing anything on to his children. One was already dead, and the other wouldn't even be born until after he'd bought the farm. God, he wanted to be there so badly. There was so much he wanted to teach the kid, so much he wanted to say. He closed his eyes against the sudden flood of fantasies. Regrets over things left undone were a dime a dozen when you were in a life-or-death situation, and he'd been in enough of them to know. He'd also been in enough of them to know that all the things you promised yourself you'd do if you got out of it usually went undone, left as regrets for the next time. You were better off focusing on what you had to do rather than on such dreams

Thinking like that was a mistake, because it triggered a rapid flood of memories. Botched missions, trapped behind enemy lines, four months in Club Med Iraq. All things he'd survived, but each time a little piece of him had been left behind, a casualty of war.

"Jack?" He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Are you not well?" It was Alekos.

Jack opened his eyes to see the Argosian watching him, eyes lit with concern. "I'm fine, Alekos," he said, pushing away the face of one of the Iraqi guards in particular, one he tried to think of as little as possible. He didn't need a shrink to know what had brought back that particular memory, or to know he'd be having nightmares tonight. "I'm fine."

An hour or so later, Jack was sitting on the steps, resting. Just days ago, he'd have been fine—but days ago he'd been thirty years younger, too. Well, twenty years, at least. He'd been over the whole place once and hadn't found anything that even looked like it might be something. As soon as he didn't feel like he'd just run a marathon, he'd get up and do it again, but he doubted he'd find anything new.

Not wanting to waste what little time he had left, he'd gotten out a notebook and started letters to Sara, Sam, and the kid. He thought under the circumstances he'd done pretty well on 'em; he'd gotten the greeting down on each, but couldn't think of anything more to say. I mean, really, what could he say? He threw the notebook across the room at the statue. It didn't help his mood any, but there wasn't anything else to throw; all his supplies were across the room on the FRED. And that seemed like such a long way.

Jack sighed, feeling most of his anger drain away. He missed it; it covered the vast emptiness inside. He'd known he going to miss Sara; he'd been missing her for a long time, after all. What he hadn't expected was to miss Sam as much as he did, and not just because of the baby. God, what he'd give to see her again. He'd say ten years off his life, but … he snorted to himself at the thought.

Footsteps sounded, and he turned to the door to watch dear sweet Kynthia enter. It was the first time she'd been back since he'd yelled at her. She stooped to pick up the notebook, turning it over in her hands before bringing it to him. "Thanks," he said gruffly, taking it. Who knew, maybe he'd think of something to write later.

"Come back to the village," she said, taking a seat next to him. "It is not good to be always alone."

Jack rubbed his face, hating the papery feel of his skin. "Whatever time I have left, let me spend it in my own way."

"But you do not spend it. You waste it."

For some reason, all Jack's anger came back at her simple statement. "I don't think reflecting on my life, or trying to figure out how to get the rest of it back, is a waste," he shot back.

She frowned. "You are angry."

Well, that observation sure took a rocket scientist. "Yes. Yes I am. Aren't you now that you know the truth?" He gestured at Pelops' statue, as it stood mocking him.

"What can we do but live in the way we always have? We do not have thousands of days. But we treasure every moment." Kynthia took his hand.

Jack shook her hand loose and scooted a few inches away from her, skin crawling. "I know, Kynthia," he said, getting hold of himself. "But in my heart ... I'm a military man, a warrior. That's my life. To which my ex-wife and my girlfriend will both attest." He still wasn't sure if he and Sam were actually 'dating' or not (or at least if she thought they were), but hey, she wasn't here to object and a dying man should get some leeway anyway.

"Ex-wife? Girlfriend? I do not know those words." Kynthia frowned. "Do they mean something like 'wife?'"

Jack sighed. Where was Daniel when you really needed him? "Yeah, something like that. Look, when you live for thousands of days, sometimes marriages don't work out for one reason or another. Then you get something called a divorce, which means that you're not married anymore. After the divorce, your wife is called your ex-wife. We also try to get to know each other better before we get married—a couple will date for a while before getting married to see if they like each other. While they're dating, the woman is the man's 'girlfriend.'"

Kynthia's eyes widened in horror. "You love them, these women? That you were once married to or were going to marry?" She turned away slightly and wrapped her arms around herself as if cold, despite the balmy room temperature that all Argos stayed. "And now, because of me, you will never see either one again." She bowed her head.

Jack sighed. "You meant no harm."

"Then let me give what I have taken," Kynthia said eagerly, turning towards him again. "The time of one heartbeat can become an eternity." She leaned in to kiss him, but Jack avoided her.

"Sorry, Kynthia," he said, trying to sound sincere. "But I've wasted enough time resting. My people think the control mechanism for Pelops' gift," his voice twisted, "might be hidden somewhere in this place. If I can find it, they might be able to fix us." He tried to push himself up, wincing at the pain in his joints.

"Then I will help you," Kynthia said, rising gracefully to her feet and putting out a hand to help him.