Sam slowly opened her eyes, greeted by the oppressive darkness of the room. The sound of metal clinking reached her ears, and her heart sank as she realized she was handcuffed again. A deep weariness settled within her as tears rose, and she didn't bother trying to hold them back. This had become her reality for the past three nights, a torturous experience worse than any she had faced before.

In a way, it reminded her of the trauma with Fifth, an ordeal she had never fully disclosed to Jack. The pain and confusion of having her mind manipulated, leading her to betray herself and sleep with her captor as he posed himself for Jack, echoed in the current situation. She empathized with Jack, understanding the struggle he was going through even without realizing it, and it pained her deeply.

As she tried to stifle a sob, her movement stirred Jack awake.

"Are you awake?" he inquired, sensing the tension in her body.

"Yes," she replied quietly.

"Breathing alright?" he asked, his concern sounding genuine.

"Yes," she affirmed, wiping the tears with her free hand.

"Still crying?" he probed, turning his head towards her in the dark.

"No," she lied.

"Liar," he said with a faint smile.

Sam bit her lip.

"Leave me alone," she whispered, attempting to turn away from him. However, the handcuff connecting her to him restricted her movement. Resigned, she lay on her back, gazing into the darkness.

Feeling her intention to withdraw, Jack adjusted his position, prompting her to move with him.

"Come on, move," he urged.

They ended up spooning, his body close to hers but not touching, except for the handcuffed hand.

"Sleep," he instructed, closing his eyes and releasing a heavy sigh.

Sam remained awake, listening to the gentle rhythm of his breathing against her neck. Years of shared sleep patterns familiarized her with the cadence, and she knew he had drifted into slumber. With great care, she allowed his arm to find its place around her waist, interlocking their fingers tightly. Exhaustion overcame her, and she closed her eyes, succumbing to sleep minutes later.

The following morning, Sam awoke to the familiar sensation of Jack snuggling against her, his body pressed firmly against hers and his arm securely wrapped around her waist. The routine of this living nightmare seemed unending. She lay still, waiting for him to wake up, and he did when his cell phone rang, forcing his arm away from her waist as he reached for the nightstand. Sam's body followed his movements as he answered the call, which ended quickly, freeing her to regain her distance.

"Good morning, Colonel," he greeted with a smile.

"Why don't you call me by my name?" Sam inquired, her curiosity piqued.

"Your name?" he asked, appearing confused.

"Yes, my name. You do know my name, right?" she pressed, realizing they might have erased this information from his mind for impersonality. "What is my name, General?" she asked, deliberately slow.

Jack's eyes revealed the answer before he spoke. He had no idea.

"My name is Samantha Carter-O'Neill," she declared, her gaze locked onto his.

Sam believed in the connection she shared with him despite potential memory erasure.

"What is your name, General?" she asked again, emphasizing the lack of a surname.

"Jack," he answered.

"No surname?" she teased, hoping to stimulate personal memories.

"O'Neill," he added after a moment.

"So, we share the same surname. Any theories?" Sam asked, playing along.

"Brother and sister?" he suggested with a playful smile.

"Could be," she agreed, maintaining the light banter.

However, Sam decided to elevate the game, subtly shifting her knee between his legs. He reacted immediately with a moan.

"Interesting reaction for a brother," she observed, grinning.

However, his hand promptly grasped her ass, applying pressure, and Sam had to hide her face in his chest.

"Interesting reaction for a sister," he countered, still holding her.

She met his gaze.

"I never said we were brother and sister," she admitted, blushing.

"So, not brother and sister. Husband and wife?" he proposed, his hand still caressing her.

Sam's heart raced, wondering if this game was a good idea.

"Yes," she replied, feeling the tension rise.

"So, Colonel Samantha Carter-O'Neill," he drawled slowly, and Sam had to stifle a reaction. That particular address had always affected her deeply, especially in bed.

"What do you want from me, Jack? What did they tell you to do?" she asked, testing the waters. She moved her knee again, introducing an element of risk into the interaction.

"Don't remember right now," he replied with a smile.

Sam's eyes widened in surprise. Could emotions be the key to overriding the program? Yesterday, he had stopped when he saw her cry, knowing he couldn't bear to witness her tears. Sam was willing to test her theory. She was a scientist, after all.

"Let's see if this restarts your true memory," she murmured, kissing him. It was a deep, probing kiss, her tongue exploring his mouth without reservation. He responded kindly, kissing her with a passion that seemed to echo a deeper connection.

After their passionate kiss, they were left panting for breath. Sam delicately caressed Jack's hair while gazing into his eyes.

"I love you, Jack," she confessed, her lips lingering on his jaw and neck. "Please come back to me."

His cell interrupted the intimate moment, and Sam cursed silently. He reluctantly picked up the phone and seemed to receive instructions. Sam began to distance herself from him, realizing her efforts might have been in vain before he even hung up.

"Very well, Colonel. The second part of your mission awaits you. Get ready," he stated, grabbing the key to uncuff her.

Sam closed her eyes, tired and defeated, but she knew she had to decide whether to continue the fight. She quickly reached a decision.

"No," she said, still lying in bed.

"What? What does that mean? No?" Jack questioned, turning to look at her as he changed his clothes.

"I'm done. Tell your boss I won't do anything else until I speak with him. If you have to shoot me, go ahead. I don't care anymore," she declared, her voice filled with resignation and sadness.

Jack finished dressing and approached the bed.

"Move, Colonel," he ordered.

"No," she said again.

"I'll make you move if I have to. Painfully," he threatened.

Knowing entirely the risk she was taking, Sam bit her lip.

"Do whatever you have to do. I don't care," she repeated, bracing herself for the worst.

Jack, growing frustrated, grabbed her and threw her out of bed. Sam winced in pain but refused to cry out or utter a word. She sat on the floor with her knees drawn up to her chest. Jack stared at her in confusion.

"I can do worse," he warned.

"I know," she said, closing her eyes, unwilling to witness what was about to unfold.

Jack ran his hand through his hair, feeling a growing unease. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

"Get up," he tried again.

"No," she replied.

"GET THE FUCK UP!" he yelled, preparing to kick her when something stopped him.

She remained seated on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees, head lowered between them, silently crying. Jack felt a wave of dizziness and had to steady himself by gripping the dresser. Something was off. What was he doing? Where was he? He glanced around, utterly confused.

He clumsily reached for his cell and pressed a button, a voice responding promptly.

"Something is wrong," he stated.

"What do you mean?" the voice inquired.

"What am I doing? Why is she crying?" Jack asked, his confusion evident.

"Okay, stay where you are. I'm sending a team to pick you up. Don't move, and don't let her leave. They will be there in minutes. Just wait," the voice instructed.

"I have to wait?" Jack queried.

"Yes, just wait," the voice reiterated, providing quick instructions.

Jack nodded, feeling a sense of urgency.

"I'll wait," he said, hanging up.

He lowered himself to the floor, eyeing the woman who continued to cry silently in the center of the room.

"Don't cry. They are coming," he reassured, hoping she would calm down.

Strangely, her sobs only intensified, and Jack's heartbeat accelerated. He had no idea why—he just wanted her to stop crying.

After the phone call, events unfolded swiftly. The team arrived within minutes, smoothly entering the house with the key they possessed. They moved efficiently to the bedroom, where two men swiftly apprehended Jack. Meanwhile, Dr. Martina Nevrotola knelt beside Sam, extracted an injection from her medical kit, and administered it to Sam's leg. Sam succumbed to unconsciousness within seconds.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Jack demanded, witnessing two other men carrying Sam out of the room.

"Don't worry, General. It was just a sedative. She's fine. Can I see your eyes?" Nevrotola inquired, retrieving something from her pocket.

"My eyes?" Jack questioned, perplexed.

Two men continued to restrain him.

"Yes," Nevrotola confirmed, flashing the device before his eyes.

Jack blacked out immediately.

"Take him as well," she ordered.

The men picked up Jack and exited the house. Nevrotola surveyed the room briefly before leaving. There was much work to be done.

Sam and Jack found themselves in the secure medical facilities of MindMatrix Technologies, a clandestine location known to only a select few. The staff working there were well-compensated for their silence, aware of the severe consequences for themselves and their families should the location be disclosed. Theodore Dechlan, the mastermind behind MindMatrix, entered the room with evident annoyance.

"What the hell happened, Martina?" he demanded, his frustration palpable.

Despite Martina warning him about potential issues with the plan, he had ignored her counsel.

"The program malfunctioned. I'm still trying to figure out why," Martina responded without a trace of apology, her gaze meeting Dechlan's.

"Malfunctioned? How? It was working fine. He did what he was programmed to do," Dechlan retorted, punching the glass in frustration as he observed Sam and Jack lying on separate beds connected to wires and computers.

"He did, up to a certain point. Something must have happened between them. It is the only explanation," Martina explained, reviewing her notes.

Dechlan turned sharply to face the scientist.

"I'm dependent on this, Martina. I need a clear explanation of what happened. I've already sold this to several people. People won't understand if I suddenly say that this doesn't work after all. If you know what I mean," he warned, his green eyes flashing with fury.

Martina, a survivor of wars and hardships, remained unfazed.

"Let's see what the results from his exams show," she suggested.

He groaned in frustration and stormed out of the room. Martina continued to check her equipment, sighing as she anticipated Dechlan's displeasure with the forthcoming results.

After days of extensive testing, Martina Nevrotola reluctantly delivered the news to her boss. The program had indeed worked, but a critical flaw had surfaced—emotions. The system malfunctioned when confronted with powerful emotions, as seen in the case of General O'Neill and Colonel Carter. Consequently, she strongly advised against proceeding with the project in its current form. While suitable for the Homeworld Command's needs, the potential risks were too significant for Dechlan's ultimate goal of ensuring total obedience.

After conveying this information, she was promptly dismissed from the room and instructed to handle the test subjects as she saw fit, ensuring that any repercussions remained untraceable to Dechlan or MindMatrix Technologies. She was free to use any means necessary, emphasizing that the demise of a single General and Colonel held little consequence in the grand scheme. Martina assured him she had devised a more discreet method to address the problem since she still wanted to study them more. She had already arranged for both subjects to be transferred to an isolated room without surveillance cameras or devices. Now, she could only hope that Colonel Carter would prove to be the woman she believed her to be. Steeling herself, Martina took a deep breath and entered the secure room.