Chapter 5

He was back in the basin, the mountains blue in the distance. The whispers were there but the boy stood next to him, hand in his. For some reason the boy seemed to keep them at bay. Brown eyes looked up at him and the boy was frowning.

"You're hurt."

He gave the boy a comforting smile. Or tried to but in the end it was more a grimace than a smile.

"I'll be okay."

The boy shook his head. "It's bad this time."

He sighs. Look to the distance and the mountains that never seem to come any closer. "I know. I'll fix it."

"Can you?"

He frowned. Something inside him seemed to surge forward. The whispers got a bit louder in response and the boy leaned into him, suddenly afraid. He put his arm around the thin shoulders, hugged him to his legs. "I'll try, okay. I fixed me last time didn't I?"

The boy nodded his head. They stood there in the basin, the whispers and wind soft around them. Dust making swirls in the air, the sky a grainy orange. They boy seemed to gather his courage, stepped away from him a little but his hand was still clutched inside his.

"We can't stay here." The boy said but didn't move.

"What's waiting at the mountains?" he asks.

The boy's hand tightened around his. A quick reassurance that he was there and real. "Not them."

"Okay."

He took a step. Then another and the boy stayed by his side. Determined. This time he walked a long time before he woke to reality.

Pain.

It slammed into his head with the remembered force of Bess' hooves. Something inside him seemed broken. He suppressed a groan as he touched his right side. Focused on the bone that grated – the familiar warmth stop-started there as he tried to knit the bone back together. But the headache didn't help and he almost allowed a sob to escape when he twisted wrong and the bone cracked again at the point he had been working on.

He gasped; body boneless against the …mattress?

What the hell?

He kept still, assessing his situation as best he could without moving. He was confident now that he was lying on a bed. Something cold was pressed against his forehead. The nausea wasn't too bad, considering his headache.

Crap. Where the hell was he?

For as long as he could remember living on this crappy planet, waking like this had never been safe. Waking up always meant someone else wanting something from him. He was interrupted from dwelling any further on his experiences when he heard the sound of a door quietly being opened. Even though he hadn't moved or opened his eyes, someone said, "Finally awake, are we?"

He grunted an answer, not yet convinced that he wouldn't throw up if he tried to say something. Movement close to him nearly had him panicking, but he kept his fear in check. A moment later the cloth was removed to be replaced by a new colder one. It made his headache hurt a little less, enough for him to attempt to open his eyes to slits.

Vague shadows moved across his vision and then a hand pressed his eyelids gently closed again.

"Get some rest. It will help with the concussion."

Like hell he's staying…

He waited, hearing the door close. He pressed his lips together as he shifted. Gasped at the white-hot lance that crept from his side to his head. It left him gasping for air, floundering on the bed like a fish out of water. He waited for a moment, just breathing through the pain.

"You need to try."

It was the boy again. Tears gathered at the corner of his eyes. He could feel it threaten but he refused to let go. He made another half-hearted attempt at knitting the broken ribs together. It hurt. A lot. Like last time when he was dying alone on the floor of the cell. Before the boy…

"I'm sorry." The boy's voice had a hint of sadness to it. A hand brushed against his sweaty brow. Soft against his matted hair. He leaned into the touch. Pretended that it was real. "It will get better. I promise."

He shook his head at that. Didn't quite believe the words. He was just so damn tired of it all. Yet still, something inside him refused to give in to the despair. To the hopelessness of it all. He wasn't about to give Anubis what he wanted.

Dammit.

He renewed his effort, focusing everything he had onto the ribs. This time it worked. He felt the healing drift over his right side. Gathering torn and abused muscles together, fusing the bone and closing the cut on his lung where a broken bone had pierced the tissue. It left him completely drained of all energy.

And he hadn't even started on his head yet.

"Sleep."

The boy was close. He could feel him, the hand still on his head, the other on his right side. It was comforting. He tried to say something, anything really but he couldn't find the words. Healing this big always left him drained.

"I'll watch. You sleep."

He gave a brief nod. Gave in to the fatigue and pain and he allowed the sleep his so desperately craved to come over him.

"Every goa'uld jail looks exactly like another goa'uld jail. You'd think they'd come up with something a little more original than this," he said, eyeing the closed door. Carter didn't bother to reply, just as he expected. Teal'c only gave him the eyebrow, while Daniel was trying his best not to look too hung over from the last zat gun blast.

"At least we're still alive, Jack," Daniel said, closing his eyes and leaning forward, he started to rub his temples with two fingers in a circular motion. "And you're not the one who fell off a cliff."

"Yeah. There's always that. I'm sure they brought us back to life to thank us for conveniently dying on them."

Daniel opened his mouth to reply when the familiar footsteps of the Jaffa echoed off the walls. When the door opened, Jack lifted his eyebrows. "You again?"

"My master is pleased that I have captured you again."

"Oh. I'm sure he is."

"You are to come with me, O'Neill."

"And if I choose not to?"

He'rak, first prime of Anubis, didn't seem amused at his words. He sighed and got up, making his way over to the door.

"You kids be good," were his parting words as the door slid close behind him. Jack was sandwiched between four Jaffa guards, following He'rak as he led the way from the lower dungeon area to a room near the top of the ha'tak. Jack glanced out the window, noticing the cityscape sitting snug against the spaceship. It looked like the ha'tak had been parked here for a while, enough for small square houses to be built close to the ship.

The room was coloured in a garish gold with one big throne-like chair seated in the middle. No other furniture. Jack wondered why the goa'uld never seemed to think that personal comfort included pillows or soft beds. Granted, the tours he had taken of ha'tak had always been either infiltration where sneakiness was more important than visiting the personal quarters of whatever snakehead's ship it was or on the other end of a staff weapon with the usual – "Kneel before your god" – crap they liked to spout forth.

Turning from the window, he grimaces as he is forced to his knees in front of the chair. His old knee injury sends a familiar stab of pain that he ignores as best he could. Surprise, surprise, he thought. So it's gonna be the old – kneel before your god – tactic. How original. He didn't have to wait long before Anubis entered the room, sweeping his way to the throne in his typical fashion. When the goa'uld sat down with his usual flourish, Jack had to force himself not to roll his eyes.

"O'Neill."

"Anubis, fancy meeting you here."

A staff weapon in his side later, he picked himself up from the floor. It probably wouldn't do to antagonise the guy, but he was past caring at this stage.

"I have been waiting for you."

"Not for long, I hope."

"Our intelligence was quite sufficient. I did not wait long."

"Oh," Jack said. He wasn't sure how to reply to the fact that once again it seemed they had a spy in SG Command's midst. Or maybe Anubis was playing mind games and their capture had been an opportune moment.

"I need your mind for an ancient device I have discovered."

"Why not use one of your goons?" He asked lightly. The thought of being Anubis' guinea pig didn't sit well with him. "I'm sure there'll be someone more than willing…"

The half-ascended being seemed focused on him. A finger came up, the index finger waving at him.

"Ah…but then. They are not you O'Neill."

"I'm no-one…" he started to say but it trailed off to silence. There was something in the air that suddenly had his mouth dry and his hands clammy. Anubis seemed to stare right through him and he suppressed a shiver. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. He swallowed.

"You have the ancient gene. This device…doesn't work with others. It seems that the original designer had put a few safeguards in place. One of them is that the user needs to be entirely willing. The other – well, the ancient gene of course and a mind that can absorb information without going insane."

Jack gave an amused chuckle. "So, you did try…and failed. No thanks."

"You are at my mercy…" Anubis said.

"…you said willingly? I won't help you." Jack tried to rise but the hand of the guard behind him came down hard on his shoulder, forcing him to stay where he was.

"Don't underestimate me, O'Neill. I can be …persuasive."

This time he did roll his eyes. He just couldn't help himself. "Do you go to some goa'uld school of evil and learn all the cliches to be spouted when having someone 'kneel' in your presence."

Dammit. That …hurt.

He lay on the floor, wondering when he'll ever learn. Blackness hovered on the edge of his vision. He tried not to think of how screwed he was at the moment. It didn't take Carter's genius to know what Anubis was going to do. He heard the swish of clothes and then footsteps. Black boots stepped into view and he squinted up at the cowl of Anubis' …face? He groaned, not really caring anymore. The swirl of vortex inside the half-ascended being inside his cowl hurt his head and he closed his eyes. A gloved hand settled on his hair. It was disconcerting.

He knew he definitely didn't like it.

He moved, sliding from underneath the hand into a sitting position. Away from where Anubis was crouched on the balls of his feet. Studying him.

"You can prevent pain for your team. Are you not interested in their wellbeing?"

"The moment I step to that device, they are dead. So no. Not interested."

"They will die, O'Neill."

He looked away, again studying the placement of the guards. Memorising it but it was an exercise in futility for the moment. "It's what we signed up for." He said softly. Determination settled and he focused back on Anubis. "You can't make me. Willing implies that I'd want to do it. Even if you force me in the end, I'll fail that requirement."

Anubis rose, towering over him. Hands clasped behind his back. The cowl tilted and Jack again had the feeling of being studied. Like a lab rat being dissected in one of his biology classes he took in school.

"Ba'al told me what he did to you."

His eyebrows rose. "Was that over a cigar and bourbon? I didn't know you two were pals."

Anubis chuckled. The sound of it filled the room and the knot of fear in Jack's stomach grew. Anubis indicated and two of the guards came forward, pulling Jack up by his arms until he stood between them.

"There is much the Tau'ri doesn't know, O'Neill. In this matter…you will not get the opportunity to share."

"If I had a dollar for every time a snake boasted…"

If Anubis had a face, Jack was sure the man would've smiled. As if he understood something Jack had failed to see. Had the measure of him.

"Does it work?" Anubis asked, amusement centred on his voice. Jack frowned. Not entirely sure he was following, the change in topic uncomfortable.

"Does what work?" he asks.

"Your attempt at sarcasm in the face of your defeat?"

He shrugged. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

The cowl gave a brief dip, as if Anubis had gained some insight and had given him a nod in return for the knowledge. He liked it even less. Felt that he was somehow standing on the backfoot. That he had no control at all and was just along for the ride.

"You are resourceful, O'Neill. I admire that in you. There is nothing you can do to save your team. You will in the end be a willing participant to save them further suffering. A mercy killing if you will."

He tried not to let the fear that was now a roiling mass of emotion swirling through his own body show. He was better than that. He'd been here before and they were still breathing. Anubis needed him so he wasn't completely without any power. He could negotiate for his team. But he wasn't about to make it easy for the snake.

"I don't think so." He said in the end.

Anubis didn't reply. He walked past Jack, close enough that the colonel could feel a tingling of static on his skin. The half-ascended goa'uld paused at the door, one hand on the lintel when he said, "You will, O'Neill. Do not doubt it."

The ball of fear in his stomach grew even more so when he was escorted back to the cell to find that the rest of his team was gone. As he turned he saw He'rak's predatory smile as the door slid closed.

His fist connected with the door in anger. Silence met his defiance. He tried shouting a few insults but got no response and in the end he made his way to one of the bunks bolted to the wall. Seated, he leaned back against the wall as he tried not to remember the last time in the Gulf War when he had been captured and kept in a small dark hole for a month, not knowing if his team had made it out or not. And whether or not they'd be coming back for him.

Someone was spooning soup into his mouth, coaxing him to swallow. It tasted bitter and too spicy and he gagged. Immediately regretting the action as the agony in his head intensified and all he could feel was a rainbow colour of pain slicing its way through his vision.

"Take it easy. It's just soup. It will make you feel better."

He shook his head and turned it away from the pungent smell, swallowing against the sudden nausea that assailed him.

"You have to eat."

No strength left to fight, he allowed himself, once again, to sink back into oblivion and the memories which he, for the life of him, couldn't recall while he was conscious.

He awoke to darkness. For a moment he thought he was back in Iraq watching Frank Cromwell disappear as the Iraqi guards surrounded him. And waiting with bated breath for Frank to turn around and come back for him. Watching his friend continue to retreat as he tasted the ashes of defeat in his mouth and watching his trust haemorrhage into the sand like his blood.

It had taken until SG-1 before he had learned to trust again.

Jack knew that if it had not been for this team, he would've succumbed long ago to the darkness that had come so close to spiralling him into a never-ending hole from which he wouldn't have been able to escape.

Pressing his hand to his forehead, he ground it in as he tried to focus on a plan. First things first, get out of the cell. Then find out where they were holding the rest of SG-1. Easy. He nearly grinned, but didn't, deciding that being alone in a cell with no-one to appreciate the situation would be a bit too freaky.

Besides, he had once again forgotten to tape the Simpsons. And the only reason had been because this was supposed to have been an easy mission. Gate in, look at the vista and allow Daniel to inspect a few rocks and gate back to SGC. Nothing too fancy and Anubis had spoiled his nice safe plan.

He had been awake for at least an hour when the familiar tread of Jaffa boots had him waiting against the wall next to the door. As the door slid open, he rolled underneath, completely taking the guard by surprise when he slammed into his feet. The guard went down, taking with him another one who'd been waiting just behind him. Scrambling to his feet, he managed to grab onto a staff weapon. Jamming the butt end into the second guard who was starting to rise, he turns the staff weapon around a la Teal'c style. The front opened, energy crackling and the first guard wisely decided to stay where he was, eyes dark with anger. Motioning them into the cell, he closed it and blasted the keypad for good measure. He could hear them pounding against the door but figured that he'd be safe for at least as long as it would've taken them to reach wherever they were supposed to take him.

He made his way through the maze of tunnels. He managed to evade the occasional guard he met on route, ducking into doorways or behind walls into the alcoves that dotted all over the place.

Less than five minutes after his escape an alarm sounded loud as he ducked into another alcove. He liked his odds even less now but he was driven to find his team. It was a compulsion inside him for which he had no will to stop or counteract.

Think.

Another phalanx of Jaffa ran past his position before he decided that he'd have to risk it. He made it two corridors further when – after ducking his head around a corner – he saw four Jaffa standing in front of a closed door. He didn't have a lot of options and he had never been one to overthink things. That has always been Daniel's bailiwick.

He tucked his body and rolled into the corridor, coming up into a kneeling position as the staff weapon whined in his hands four times. Two went down, holes smoking from where the energy burst had hit them. He smelled ozone as a return blast singed his jacket. He rose to his feet, running towards the remaining Jaffa, the staff weapon in his hands continuing blasting holes in the walls and floor. A stray hit from his weapon had one of the two spinning away to crumble to the floor. The remaining guard tackled, bringing them both to the floor in a most undignified tumble of legs and arms. Two wild swings later he rose from the comatose man beneath him. He could hear shouts of alarm vibrate off the walls around him as he slammed his fist into the keypad, watching the door slide open with increasing impatience.

To find Carter, Teal'c and Daniel sprawled on the floor.

Dead.

Just like Charlie…

He didn't resist when He'rak and six other Jaffa surrounded him and took the staff weapon from fingers that had gone numb with the realisation that Anubis had anticipated his move. He was prodded away, heard the door slide shut and then they took him to an open cell with bars. One where he could be watched at all times until Anubis called for him.

Waiting for him to give in.

What was grating was that he couldn't discuss with his team any of the reasons why he had to watch them suffer and die. Again, and again until he couldn't anymore…

He was hovering in the twilight of consciousness. The boy was gone and he was barely cognisant of his surroundings. He knew he needed to heal his head injury. That it was more serious than he had thought. More than a concussion. But he couldn't gather the energy to care. A door opened and then a hand was on his forehead. He didn't move to the touch. He heard a sigh and then the coolness was back over his eyes.

It was nice.

He heard footsteps as someone else entered the room. He was sliding back into darkness, a feeling that was now becoming all too familiar. He didn't mind. It meant the whispers were quiet. Even if the boy was gone.

He could deal with it.

His ears picked up sound. Words softly spoken in voices that were deep and sounded eerily familiar. He was too far down the rabbit hole to make sense of it.

"He's not getting any better. Maybe we should risk it."

"He's not ready yet."

"How would you know?"

"I know him. He's not ready yet."

"Fine. But if he dies, it's on you."

He shifted, turning his head but it hurt. The hand was back on his forehead, swapping the warming compression for something cooler. "He's burning up." This time it was the same voice but different. It sounded …normal. Seth?

He must've made a sound. He wasn't sure as he shivered.

"What about the healing device?" It was the other voice that had the eerily deep sound to it.

"I tried. Whatever the ancient device did, it changed something."

A voice swearing. He couldn't have said it any better. It summed up his situation perfectly.

"Bring me some more water. We need to cool him down."

Footsteps disappeared. He tried opening his eyes but it hurt too much and took too much effort. A voice was shushing at him, telling him that he needed to fight.

I'm trying…

He lost time. Became aware again when he was turned on his side, aware that he had no shirt or pants on. Was being bathed in water, the flow of air over his body was kinda nice. His head …his head was agony. Something felt incredibly …wrong.

He moaned.

"Dammit…not again…hold him…" The voice sounded panicky. Something vibrated and then he wasn't aware anymore except the agony and the shaking of his limbs and…

"You're dying."

He sighed. He was sitting, his legs drawn up and his arms dangling on his knees. The boy was standing in front of him. Concerned eyes met him.

"It's not that bad." He said. He looked around. The mountains somehow seemed closer. The surrounding area was different. He recognised a tumbling weed. Watched with interest as it rolled past him. The whispers…he tilted his head but struggled to hear them in the wind.

"You can't."

He gave a half smile. "Why?"

The boy seemed angry somehow. A pout was starting to form, hands curled into fists. "It's not your time yet."

He squinted. "Say's who?"

The boy stamped a foot. He raised an eyebrow at that. "You! You say it. You can stop this."

He threw his arms in the air. Sat forward. "How? When did I say that?" He paused, let it sink in but there was no answer. Anger rose inside him. "What if I don't want to do this anymore."

The boy leaned in, anger met his own and it was very familiar. "Since when do you give in to snake heads?" The sneer on the last words were hard to ignore. He looked away from the boy. Stared at the mountains. He could just start to make out boulders the size of houses that dotted the landscape on the sloping giants. He got up. The boy was still angry. Stalked in front of him and led the way and he followed…

The agony in his head wasn't any better.

"How long are you going to do this?"

The voice was back. He focused inward on himself and his own head. Could finally see the crack in the bone of his skull. Realised that he was still bleeding slowly into his brain.

"He's in a coma. And the fits are getting worse…"

He ignored the words coming through his ears. Focused first on stopping the bleed. On getting the smaller blood vessels sorted. The agony seemed to lessen a little and thoughts came a bit easier.

"He's a fighter. Now get out if you're not going to help…"

He was tired…it had taken a lot of effort he didn't have the energy for. Darkness followed soon after…

"How's the head?"

He stared at the boy. "Really?"

The boy shrugged. Grinned at him. "You fixed it."

"Not all of it." He said. They were walking at a comfortable pace. The terrain passing beneath their feet. It was comfortable.

"Most of it." The boy replied. "You have a hard head."

"Not that hard."

"Okay, but a horse…now that is a whole lot of muscle isn't it."

He shrugged. It was done.

"Do you think she will be there?"

A longing centred on his chest. He could see her. Blue eyes…blond hair…a smile that lit his …world.

He smiled.

"I hope so."

The boy nodded. "Me too."

He opened his eyes. Brown met his own and Seth grinned. Looked back at someone standing out of his view.

"See…I told you. He's a damn fighter."

He wanted to turn but his skull still felt broken. He needed to fix it. Seth was seated by his side. His head was lifted and a cup pushed against his lips. He took a sip and it was …heaven. He suddenly realised how thirsty he was. How dry his mouth was. He took another gulp and Seth removed the cup, placing his head carefully down.

"Not too much, otherwise you'll just bring it back up. Welcome back by the way. We nearly lost you."

He didn't bother replying. Fatigue dragging him back down as he focused inward to knit together bone. When he was done, he fell asleep.

This time he was back at the lake. Back with her. His head rested in her lap and he put his arms around her. Breathed in the scent of her while her fingers ran through his hair.

It was …nice. And good. And …right.

She said his name. The one he forgot.

When he woke Seth was still there. Her face lingered as it sometimes does when he moved between the dreamworld and now. She smiled and then she was gone.

"You with us?"

He focused inward but everything was as it should be.

"Yes." His voice was throaty. Seth lifted his head again, helped him sip some more water. Laid him back down and then busied himself with pulling a blanket higher over his body. He realised that he was naked except for his underwear. But he felt …better. Definitely better.

"How long?" He asked and he turned on his side, pulling the blanket over his shoulder. He was still tired but it wasn't the – I'm dying – fatigue. It felt like he'd been here before. Like this…waiting for his body to heal.

Seth grimaced. "A week."

"Okay."

"It was very close…"

He nodded. What could he say to that? Nothing really. He remembered the boy and his anger. And the fight to not let Anubis win. He closed his eyes. A hand carded through his hair. It was nice and he felt safe for some inexplicable reason.

The boy was right. Seth was a friend. Seth would guard his sleep.

"You can rest now, Jack. It's going to get better. I promise. We'll fix it."

He didn't hear most of it. The words lost to him as he sunk into healing sleep.