He waited.

Leron planned to take his revenge on Jack O'Neill, but the time was not quite right. After the Security Officer has spoken with him, he knew that he was being watched and that everyone was on the alert. So, he waited.

Meron had been his twin, his other half. Even though they hadn't been travelling together for the last couple of years, they were never truly apart. Leron depended on his brother, as Meron had been the stronger of the two. A hole had now been left in his life, and it had quickly been filled with anger and hatred towards the man who had caused it.

Leron knew exactly what kind of person his brother – and their friends – were. In the past, he too had taken part in some of their wilder fun, although he didn't need it in the same way as did they. Meron had always been obsessed with his own pleasure, which usually meant causing pain to someone else.

He had also known that his brother and their two friends Alid and Donar, had done some terrible, perverted things. That hadn't bothered him, however, as was as morally bankrupt as were they.

Leron was sure that Jack O'Neill had experienced some of those things. His reaction, when he'd seen him and thought he was his brother, had been one of terror. O'Neill had managed to pull himself together, but Leron had seen the reaction and had instantly known that the man had met, and experienced, his twin.

Although Leron didn't have the same sexual proclivities as his brother, he did share many of his other qualities. He was someone who was impatient and quick to anger. He held grudges and hated anyone who harmed him or one of his own. He was a man with no conscience, no concern for his fellow being and no moral compass.

He was sure that his brother was dead, and that Jack O'Neill was going to pay.

He had time - time to come up with the best revenge he could. He wanted it to be something so terrible that O'Neill would forever regret what he had done.

He stayed in the near vicinity, but was careful to not be seen by O'Neill, Samantha or any of their friends. He dressed differently, kept his head down, and remained as inconspicuous as possible. He hoped they all thought that he had gone, not to return. But they would be wrong.

He waited, but soon he would strike.

Jack was feeling better – stronger, less filled with anger and shame. As he had shared with Magnus, however, he didn't think he would ever get to the point where he was totally fine. He had experienced too much in his life, and on Varid, to ever be completely whole.

But Kisamor was helping, although he couldn't explain how. He talked to her and was able to share things he hadn't thought he could tell anyone, but that was all that happened. She had demanded that he be totally open and honest and that he hide nothing.

"Anything you do not share," she had told him, "will continue to fester. If you let it out into the sunshine and air, it will lose its power to harm you."

It had taken him time to tell her everything because the sense of shame was strong. He'd gotten physically sick the first time he described what had been done to him. She had sat quietly, although she had, at one point, reached out and touched him. He had felt her sympathy and concern and had immediately felt calmer.

It had been slightly easier, after that, although still hard. He found himself remembering things that had been buried in his mind – horrible, demeaning things. It was hard to believe that anyone could have been as intentionally cruel and perverse as the men who had captured him.

At one point in his recital, he'd felt a sudden bolt of intense anger. Surprised, since he hadn't been feeling that way a second ago, he realized that the anger was coming , not from him, but from Kisamor.

He stopped speaking, and looked at her worriedly, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

"I am sorry, Jack O'Neill," she told him, wiping her hand across her brow. "I try and remain as composed and serene as possible when people are speaking with me. But I'm afraid the men who hurt you were animals. No one should go through what you did, and it made me very, very angry!" She shook herself and he could see her try and regain her sense of calm. A moment later she gave him a small smile, patted his hand, and told him to continue.

One of the things he had valued about Kisamor was her lack of judgement or strong emotion as he spoke to her. She did seem to care, but her very composure made it easier for him to be open and honest. He admitted to himself, though, that her sudden spurt of anger had made him feel good. It validated his own feelings and hurts. Although why he would have doubted them he didn't know. He had been hurt. He had been tortured and humiliated. He deserved to be angry.

Again, he was unsure why seeing her was helping as nothing much happened during his sessions with Kisamor. They seemed pretty much like any session he'd ever had with a shrink. He would tell her his story and then she would ask him how he was feeling.

At first, as was normal for him, he hid his feelings behind sarcasm and humor. Kisamor would smile, sometimes even laugh – and then would ask him again. He found that eventually he had to tell her and to be honest with her. He didn't quite know why, but for the first time that he could remember, he began to talk about his deepest feelings. He shared his agony, his shame, his anger, and his hopelessness.

Kisamor wouldn't directly address anything that he said, which he found surprising. Other than asking him to share his experiences or feelings, she didn't probe. The only thing she would do, is at the end of each session she would give him some of her "special" tea and reach out and lay her hand over his.

"You did well today, Jack O'Neill," she would say. "Your heart, your mind, and your soul are strong and good. They are wounded, but they will heal. Leave your burdens here and you will once again find peace and joy."

He could say the words by heart as she repeated the same thing every time. She also gave him the same tea every time. He didn't particularly like it, but she told him it was her special brew – and he didn't have the heart to refuse her.

After he finished, he would thank her and leave her tiny little house. He always felt better but exhausted after one of his sessions.

He was starting to sleep much better and had gone a couple of nights without nightmares. He would never admit it to a soul, of course, but he finally acknowledged, to himself at least, that going to healer had been the right thing to do. He just wished that Kisamor could fix his body, along with his mind.

Sam and Jack had established a rhythm in dealing with one another that maintained an outward appearance of normalcy but was highly unsatisfactory for both of them. There were barriers that had never been there before – even while they were serving together. It was as if acknowledging their feelings, but then not being able to act on them, had made things harder.

Sam tried to be as cheerful and pleasant as possible, as did Jack – but in the privacy of their rooms, and their thoughts, they were both miserable.

Sam had almost stopped visiting Ethan's place as she found it too uncomfortable, until Jack had told her that the boys really missed her.

"I know it's hard, Carter," Jack had said quietly to her one day, "but it would be nice if you were to come over and spend some time with them. They miss you."

"I miss them too," she'd smiled, although it had been hard not to cry at his words. She had grown to love the little boys, and felt like she'd lost, not just Jack, but them as well. "I could come and take them on a picnic," she said suddenly. "Do you think they would like that?"

"They'd love it," Jack had answered, with a smile. Inside he felt rotten. It seemed as if Carter was going to take the boys, when he'd hoped she would spend time with him as well. He knew that wasn't fair, as he'd been the one to tell her there could be nothing between them. Having her spend time with him would just be cruel, and painful for both of them, but he missed her and the times they'd spent together.

"Would – you like to come, Sir?" she asked.

"Sir?" he asked with a crooked smile, although he continued before she had a chance to answer. "If you're sure you don't mind, then yes, a picnic would be fun."

They'd made the arrangements and then Sam had headed back to work. Jack stood for a few minutes, thinking about her and about all that he'd lost.

With a sigh he straightened up and made his way back to work. There was nothing he could do, so he might as well just keep going. He had no other choice.