A/N: What's "really" happening to Sam and her "dream" sequences are supposed to run together.

Chapter 3

Sam's eyelids fluttered open, revealing the sky blue irises beneath. She let out a moan. Her body ached and she shuddered as she remembered the reasons why.

"The bastards," she muttered, doing her best to fight back the tears that stung her eyes. Didn't they have any regard for human life? Sitting up, she winced in discomfort. Her ribs were bruised from her most recent beating. At least she hadn't been whipped again. Not, yet, anyway . . .

"I can't believe it was just a dream," the air force major whispered to herself. "It seemed so real—I felt so safe . . . But, they'll come for me, I know they will. The colonel wouldn't leave like this. Gosh, Jack—where are you?" The blonde leaned carefully against the stone wall of her cell, allowing her eyes to fall shut.

"You're very strong." Sam's eyes flew open when she heard the voice. She glared at the man who stood beyond the rusted bars.

"What do you want?" she demanded, directing her gaze towards the barred window. From what she'd been able to tell, her prison was partially underground and her window was about a foot above the ground outside. Now, if she could only get the bars off.

"Nothing," the man replied. "I just don't want to see you hurt anymore." Sam rose to her feet and stalked to the bars.

"You keep saying that, Garin, but you never do a damn thing to help," she hissed. "Now, I want to know why."

"I—I just can't, I'm sorry, Sam," Garin stammered, turning to leave.

"No, wait!" Sam called after him. "You can't leave me like this! Just do something—anything! You gotta help me," she cried. "Please, help me. Help me . . . help me. You gotta help me . . . Help—please . . ."

"Sam?" a gentle pair of hands cupped her face. "Sam, it's me, Janet. You're having another nightmare. Sam, can you hear me?" Sam opened her eyes.

"Janet?" she whispered.

"There . . . that's better," the doctor murmured soothingly, smoothing back the major's hair. "I'm here for you—you know that, right?" The blonde nodded. "Good."

"Janet," Sam reached out and grabbed her friend's arm as she turned to go.

"Sam?"

"Don't leave. Not yet. Just," she blinked back the tears that threatened to come, "Stay with me awhile."

"Okay," her friend agreed. Sam sat up in the bed and hugged her knees to her chest. "Are you alright?" Janet asked.

"Yeah, it's just—the nightmares, they're hard to shake," the blonde answered. "They seem so real—so vivid. My word, Janet I just kept wondering what if Ja—the others never find me? What if I die here? I just keep thinking that I'm gonna wake up, really wake up, and find that I haven't escaped at all . . ." She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought and Janet put a hand on her shoulder.

"You're gonna be alright," the doctor told her. "I have to go, I have other patients. I'll send someone to sit with you, okay?" Her patient nodded and she got up to leave.

"Janet?" Sam spoke suddenly.

"Yes?" Janet turned to face her.

"Could you—I mean, do you think you could get Colonel O'Neill?" The red-head nodded.

"I think I can do that," she smiled. The blonde rested her chin on her knees, releasing a gentle sigh. "How long must I wait?" she whispered bewilderedly to herself, blinking in shock as she realized that she was back in the cell. "Oh, gosh, Jack, where are you?" The blue-eyed major shook her head. Something was not right. She'd already experienced this moment—already survived it! Hadn't she? Why was she back here? Slowly rising to her feet, she walked up to the rusted bars. She'd already escaped, and barely, at that. Garin had explained to her that he had family and it was to protect them from his heartless master that he was unable to do much to help her. Any moment now he would bring her a knife blade with which to loosen the bars on the window. A small token of good faith.

"This isn't happening," Sam murmured to herself as she glanced down at her hands. "I should barely be able to stand . . . I'd be in too much pain." She turned to look back at the three stone walls and earthen floor. "By this point I would have been here for almost two months—I would know every crack in these walls . . . why don't I?"

"Sam." The woman turned to face the speaker. "You're awake, how are you holding up?"

"Garin. I'm okay," she answered slowly, turning to face him. "In fact, I feel perfectly fine. Except, I was made to believe that I had been whipped and beaten and raped, but I haven't been touched at all!" Her voice steadily rose in volume. "You know what else? I have a pretty damn good memory, but for some reason, though I've seen your master face to face numerous times, I couldn't describe him for the life of me. In fact, you're the only person I don't already know! Now, where am I?" She shouted the last part.

"Carter," Jack took her by the shoulders, "you're in the infirmary, back on Earth." She pulled away from him, shaking her head.

"No," the blonde countered. "This isn't real."

"She's in denial," Janet said, entering the room and hurrying towards her patient. Sam held up a hand and she halted. The major turned her gaze to her CO.

"Sir," she began hesitantly, "none of this is real."

"Carter, what are you talking about?"

"What did you do last week?"

"Ate, slept, worked," O'Neill shrugged, obviously confused.

"But you don't actually remember doing any of it?" Carter asked skeptically.

"No, I guess I've been too worried about you to notice," the man replied.

"Sir, I wasn't really hurt."

"What?"

"Look at me—there's not a single new scar on my body, I'm not anorexic like I should be, and my ribs don't hurt at all. In fact, my hair hasn't grown—it has been nearly five months since my last haircut and my hair hasn't grown a bit. For Pete's sake, my legs are still shaved!" Sam looked at him and realization dawned upon her face. "You're not real, either . . ."

"You're a very clever woman, Samantha Carter," Garin spoke, stepping towards her as the infirmary melted away and they stood alone in a darkened void. "This is the fifth scenario you have figured out. Though, you don't remember that right now, of course. Fascinating . . ."

"Who are you?" Sam demanded, noticing that she was once more dressed in BDUs.

"Well, I do go by Garin," the man told her, shrugging. "I'm a bit of a nobody, really. Don't have a family or real responsibilities of any sort, so I go about amusing myself."

"By messing with my head?"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself. You're not the only experiment I have. I have several others," he began to circle about her. "But you . . . you're very special. You are the only one who has ever picked up on the flaws in my delusions. Congratulations. Very intriguing."

"Where are my friends?" the woman wanted to know. She glared daggers at him.

"Unfortunately, they retreated before I could collect them. Oh, don't look at me that way—I wish as much as you do that they had stayed longer," he shook his head sadly as he stopped his circling. "Now this one you call Jack O'Neill—a fine specimen, by the way—what makes you have such strong feelings for him?"

"He's my friend and our lives depend on each other everyday," Sam told him.

"No," Garin contradicted. "It's more than that. You are most definitely in love with the man. You see, in the three scenarios in which you were horrendously maltreated and came near death, your feelings manifested themselves as a strong resentment towards him due to the fact that he had failed to rescue you. And in the other two scenarios . . . well, as your race would say, you were practically all over him." Sam took a step towards him, but found that he remained just as far away.

"What are you?" she finally asked.

"Why, a giver and seeker of inspiration," Garin replied with a smug smile, "a muse."

---

SGC

"What happened?" Colonel Jack O'Neill demanded, entering the gateroom as the four conscious members of SG-6 gingerly carried their bleeding comrade down the ramp.

"She slipped and fell into a ravine," the leader answered, clearly blaming himself. Janet and her med team hurried in with a gurney and rushed the injured woman to the infirmary. General Hammond gave Jack a slight nod, knowing that the man had hoped SG-6 would bring news of Carter.

"Get cleaned up," he told the newly returned team. "I expect you all in the briefing room in fifteen minutes." The four teammates started towards the locker room.

"Lindsay," the captain turned to the youngest member, a new recruit to the SGC, and nodded towards Jack. She took a step towards him.

"Colonel O'Neill," the airman said softly, fingering something in her calloused hands. "We found this in the ravine, close to where Niter fell." She handed him the object. It was an arm patch with three symbols embroidered in its dense fabric: SG-1.

To be continued . . .

A/N: I totally did not plan on this story taking that kind of a twist, so if ya'll hate it, let me know and I'll go back and fix it! Review! Review! Meanwhile, I'm gonna get a bigger stove . . .

Response(s):

Gater62 and Mara-anni—Love manifests itself in strange ways . . . (plus, her mind's been messed with)