I stared at her, noting the shadows under her eyes, and realized with a shock that she was exhausted.

"Carter," I said gently, lest she took offense, "you need some sleep."

Her eyes snapped to mine, the fire in them quickly quenched. "So do you sir."

A need for sleep was the least of my worries. Not that I would ever tell her.

She ran her hands brusquely through her short blonde hair, attracting the attention of my guard for a second until he realized that she meant no harm, nor had she any intentions of breaking me out of club Zed.

Pity.

"I mean," she said exasperatedly, "who would have thought that they considered the stargate a…what? A mausoleum?

"A tomb," I said tiredly, wishing that I could just stay sat on the chair that my oh so sweet hosts had reluctantly given me, and that only after Carter had insisted.

"How are they treating you?" she asked, but I could tell from her expression that she knew the answer to that one already.

I had to literally restrain myself from nailing the lone guard and breaking the Colonel out.

Two things stopped me.

One - This jail could put the most stringent of maximum security jails on earth to shame, and we wouldn't have gotten five yards before being caught,

And two. Colonel O'Neill was unwell.

Oh man, whom was I kidding?

Colonel O'Neill was being beaten and starved to death, and there was nothing I could do about it.

He raised his dark brown eyes to mine, forcing me to read his soul.

"Carter." His voice was tight, controlled, but his eyes told me a different story. "You don't need to stay. It's been over two months now, and if there had been a loophole in their law, Daniel would have found it ages ago."

"You don't know that," I all but yelled, my emotions getting the better of me for a second. How could he say that? They were slowly killing him, and he expected me to just leave?

The intensity of my reply literally rocked him back on his chair, his wrist chains jingling loudly in the still room.

"Carter?" For a nanosecond he reverted to type, quizzically raised eyebrows and a wry expression.

"You okay?"

I shook my head mutely. How could he ask that?

There he sat, gaunt and bruised, slumped on the chair in the very same position the guard had slammed him into five minutes ago, looking as if he hadn’t even the strength to move, and he was asking if I was okay?

Hell yes, I was okay. I got to eat and sleep at night. I was just missing a very important ingredient in my life.

My C.O.

Over the past two months I had seen my funny sarcastic Commanding Officer being systematically reduced to what he had now become, a shadow, one that kept sending wary glances at the guard whenever he moved, as if waiting for something terrible to happen.

I didn’t doubt that it did, and on a regular basis as well, going on the bruises that constantly marred his frame, bruises he never spoke about and always valiantly tried to cover up.

I never said anything, but I knew he knew that I knew what they were doing to him, and I knew he must be aware that the SGC knew as well. Not that we could do anything, not when he was incarcerated in this brilliant white pit.

A contradiction in terms?

I didn’t think so, nor did Daniel and Teal’c, waiting so patiently for me outside the walls, back in the land of freedom.

I thought of his new home, white on white. It was an antiseptic classless jail, the walls so white, the fluorescent lights contrasting so brightly, that it was almost blinding. I was always so glad to leave, walking out into soft light and green trees again.

Jack didn't have that luxury, and my heart ached.

"There is still hope." My voice had an intensity to it that I had never shown before, as if I was trying to convince myself, as well as him.

It was then that I realized that I was trying to convince myself.

If we didn’t get Jack out soon, he would die.

He smiled, but there was no warmth there.

"Not for me, there isn't."

I decided to come clean, to tell her the truth. She deserved no less.

"Carter."

Jeez, this was difficult.

She stiffened, her eyes dark and careful, as if expecting the worse.

"Yes sir?"

"They... I won't survive this." I felt ashamed, as if confessing my limitations to her was wrong.

I stared over her left shoulder, at the neat guard who only that morning had participated in beating me senseless. My eyes met, and I saw my death there, in their flat depths.

It was only a matter of time.

"Carter, please." My voice was soft and, to my shame, sounded helpless. I drew in another breath, the taste of it sour in my mouth.

"Leave."

She stared at me, obviously shocked at my soft plea.

"Don't wait for me. Just..." I shook my head recalling my initial treatment at their hands, how they deliberately broke my hands.

Knowing that she was staring at me, I flexed a hand, still feeling the echoes of a remembered pain.

It seems that the stargate on their world was only used for the burial of the dead.

Apparently, the Minoans, as this lot called themselves, believed that Valhalla lay beyond the gate, and so sent their dead through on a regular basis. Needless to say, when SG1 had stepped through, apparently returning from the land of the dead and looking alive and well, the Minoans had taken great exception, especially to me, the leader.

It seemed that returning from the land of the dead wasn’t allowed. Not that it had ever happened before.

Nevertheless, the Minoans were thorough, and had a law in place, just in case something like that ever did.

Of course, when it was ascertained that we weren’t even Minoans, they had immediately branded our actions treasonous.

Luckily for the team, Minoan law stated that the Patriarch be solely responsible for the crimes of his family, or in our case, the leader.

They saw me, believed that I had defiled Valhalla, and arrested me, all in the space of 10 minutes.

Poor Daniel. He had talked himself hoarse, appealing to the heavily armed squad of black-coated bastards that had seemingly appeared from nowhere.

Nobody had listened.

Finally, in desperation, he had grabbed at one of them. It was them that my team and I were made aware of how draconian their law was.

By trying to prevent me being arrested, Daniel had only made things worse, and the gleeful guards had reacted at once.

It had taken four of the guards to get me to the ground, but they had managed eventually.

Finally, I was lying spreadeagled in the dirt, hearing the soft voice of Carter adding to the voices of Daniel and Teal’c. Then they had been drowned out by a wave of sheer pain as the first of many guards had jumped onto my hands.

They had dragged me off to town then, to face trial. Of course, with broken hands I couldn’t try to escape even it I had wanted to. It had taken two days to sentence me to life imprisonment. It had taken them three to fix my hands.

By then, I had been in a delirium of pain, and totally unaware as to what had happened to my team.

It was about a week later, when I had finally been sent to club Zed, that I found out that they had been released.

The relief of that, knowing that they weren’t also suffering the same fate as me almost made the nights bearable.

Almost.

Unfortunately for me, word had got out that a foreigner had defiled Valhalla, and seemingly, every person in the jail had a dead relative on the other side.

They all cried out for vengeance, something the prison guards were so happy to provide.

Damn them.

I had tried to tell them, repeatedly, that there was more than one address on the stargate.

I would have had more success in whistling Dixie.

They had wanted me to die then, they still did. It was only their draconian laws that were preventing them from doing just that. Murder was murder, even here.

So they had found a slower method of ensuring my death.

Their fists.

-----------

"Carter, please listen to me."

I stared into her clear blue eyes, wishing with all my soul that I could touch her, but the chains around my wrists and ankles prevented even that.

"They believe I committed treason. They won't allow me to survive."

She looked stricken.

I jerked my head down, away from her suffering and stared at my wrists, sticks now, weeks worth of physical abuse coupled with little food taking their toll.

"They want me dead," I said softly. "They are succeeding too."

He voice was rich with emotion, wrapping around me and soothing my fears.

"We won't let them."

I stared at the scarred wood of the table, refusing to meet her eyes.

"You may not have a choice."

Her hands covered mine, the long for physical touch making me start slightly.

"Dad is here," she said softly. "His ship arrived two days ago with Janet and half of the SGC on board. Between us, we’ll get you home." Her hands tightened on mine, releasing slightly when I winced. "You have to hang on. Please."

I looked up again, seeing compassion etched on her face. Compassion for me.

God, I hated that. I also hated what I had to tell her, but it was essential she and the others knew just how bad things were.

"Carter." My voice was a sigh of defeat. "I am hanging, but there is only so much hanging on I can do when the only food I get is a cup of thin soup, delivered once a day."

I shrugged my shoulders; aware of the thick material rubbing against the open sores she thankfully couldn't see.

"That's if they remember."

"Oh God."

Her voice was soft, tears only a blink away.

How could anyone be so cruel?

I blinked mistily at him, forcing my tears back, insisting the tough soldier facade take over.

Ignoring his puppy dog eyes and the bruises peeping out from under each sleeve, I thought furiously.

There had to be a way. Daniel, bless him, was doing his best, but there was no getting around the facts. The stargate was a holy graveyard.

The mere fact that we hadn't known cut no ice with these fanatical people.

Now the Colonel was suffering the consequences.

"Major Kovachek is here and is going to see the governor tomorrow," I said optimistically. "Maybe he can be swayed into letting you go."

His expression turned wry. "And maybe pigs fly in formation." He shook his head. "No Carter. They have already told me. The only way I am getting out of here is through disease or death. Seeing as this planet has no diseases to speak of, they're going for the death option ."

Something tickled my conscious, making me look at him thoughtfully.

"Death or disease, hey?"

He knew me too well.

"Carter?"

I quashed my brief flare of hope.

Whatever she was up to, there was no way in hell that it could spirit me out of here. At least, I didn't think so.

Nevertheless, Carter was looking at me with a peculiar expression on her face, making me wonder what she was thinking.

"What is it?"

She stood, startling the guard.

"I need to speak to Janet before saying anything, but I might have a way out of here."

Poor man, he looked bemused as I literally stormed out of there, so unlike the in control Jack O'Neill I knew and.… well, suffice it to say I wasn't taking his continued incarceration batter than he was. Nor for that matter were the rest of SG1.

But now, now I had hope.

All I could pray was that he was still strong enough to carry it out when I returned.

My nails dug hard into my hands as the leering guards let me out.

Please God let him be still alive to carry it out when I returned.

Even Iraq so long ago had been preferable to this.

In Iraq I at least knew whether it was day or night, and when I thought that that all hope was lost, there had still been the stars to stare at, soothing my heart.

Not so here.

Here all I had was blinding white, no matter which way I looked. A brilliant, sterile white in which nothing natural lived. To make matters worse, everything was smooth, with not an angle to be seen.

We humans are busy people, full of color and life. We also delight in angles. Rooms have corners, tables have edges...

Not so here.

Here in this strange alien world there is only smooth whiteness and pain.

To them, I was the alien, and they never let me forget it.

God, how I hated them.

I huddled in my cell and watched as tiny pieces of human fell from me, spattering the smooth white floor in a delightful pattern of red splotches.

It was almost worth it.

Sooner or later they would return, cleaning my cell with antiseptic jets of water, but until they did, I could delight in my blood, and wait for Carter's return.

Everything took days longer than I thought it would, and seeing as I was the only one they would allow the Colonel to see, I figured he would be desperate for news.

That's assuming that he was still alive.

Shuddering at the thought, I nodded pleasantly at the guard, breathing a sigh of relief as he led me inside.

"Carter?"

I couldn't see too well anymore, but whether that was due to a detached retina or two, or a lack of anything nutritional in my meals I wasn't too sure. All I knew was that she was finally sat opposite me, her cool hands caressing mine.

"Colonel? My God, what did they do to you?"

Her voice was high and scared and I knew that I finally looked as bad as I felt.

"At least I’m still hanging in there," I said flippantly. My smile slipped despite my best efforts. "At least I’m still doing that."

She leaned forwards, and I smelt her floral perfume as her eyes swam into view.

"Sorry I took so long," she whispered. "Janet worked flat out to get it ready, but it took time."

"What did?" I asked blankly.

Instead of answering, she reached over and pulled me close. "Crunch it," she said softly.

Then she kissed me.

He was so thin, his bones so delicate I thought I was actually going to hurt him. Big, tough, go anywhere do anything testosterone soaked Jack O’Neill was reduced to nothing more than skin and bones - a concentration camp survivor.

God, I had never hated a race of people more than I did at that moment.

Cupping his face tenderly between my hands, our lips touched, and I did something that I had so wanted to do since I had first seen him.

I kissed him.

At first he was stunned, as I had expected, the chains securing his wrists to his ankles jingling as he instinctively tried to move and failed.

And then my heart leapt as he started to kiss me back.

Eyes closed, we ignored the harsh jeers of the guard and tasted each other, like there was no tomorrow, because for all we knew, there wasn’t.

We kissed deeply, passionately, and in the midst of it all, I set my plan into motion.

Pushing the tip of my tongue into the hollow where one of my wisdom teeth had once resided, I carefully levered out a tiny capsule.

Janet had been resistant at first, the doctor finding so many reasons as to why my idea was so dangerous, but when I had listed all the things they had done to Jack, she had finally agreed, albeit with reservations.

Of course, there was only so much one could do aboard a Tok’ra space ship, and as healthy as the Tok’ra were, they were of no help.

Luckily for me, one of the SGC nurses along for the ride was coughing, having caught a mild summer cold, and…God, those medical people could be frightening once they set their minds to it.

Once we knew we could do it, I had radioed General Hammond, telling him of our plan.

He had guardedly given his permission.

A day and a half later I was French kissing my C.O.

I found myself sat on the table, leaning into him, and then, when I knew I should really come up for air, I transferred the tiny capsule from my mouth to his.

His eyes flew open and he pulled away slightly, a small smile on his face.

"What is it?" he asked softly, pulling me close again and nuzzling my ear.

"Mongolian flu, we hope."

He pulled back again and gave me an odd look.

"How… nice. I’m touched."

And then he crunched it and swallowed the contents.

I had never even heard of Mongolian flu, but her idea was a good one.

"Disease or death, hey?" I whispered to her, reluctantly pulling away when she nodded.

"Disease," she said, her eyes shining. "Death doesn’t suit you."

"Thanks," I said dryly, my mouth still tasting the bitter concoction of whatever it was I had swallowed. "What now?"

Her face was grave.

"Now we wait. The flu is very contageous, and it won’t be long before the Minoans are crying for help. We will, on condition that they release you."

I frowned at her.

"What happens if they don’t go for it?"

Her eyes were steady, her face grave.

"Don’t they… touch you in here?"

I knew what she was implying, and laughed harshly.

"Oh yeah. I get a full physical at least once a day." I stared down at the bruises on my arms and tried not to shudder.

"Breath on them," she said simply. "Breathe hard. Janet believes a temperate planet such as this will never have heard of Mongolian flu, giving us the upper hand in any negotiations."

I smiled thinly.

"Biological warfare, hey? Sweet."

A thought occurred.

"How long does it take to… you know?"

I stared into her eyes, still holding her close aware that she was most probably sharing my flu and not really caring that much.

She was strong, she always had been. I on the other hand, was not. Not now, and that could be a problem.

I dragged my thought kicking and screaming into the open.

"If they take too long to ask for help I could die, Sam."

She drew in a ragged breath, telling me she wasn’t as composed as I thought she was.

"That is the risk we take, Jack."

My name sounded good coming from her, and I leaned forwards again, allowing her to cuddle me as much as the chains allowed.

"I’m sorry." Her voice was a soft whisper. "This is all I could think of."

"Don’t be," I replied, my own voice equally as soft. "It may work, and if it doesn’t…"

I shrugged. "Well, we all die sooner or later."

Her voice went into lecture mode, always an indication of severe stress.

"Mongolian flu is not a nice thing to have, as you will no doubt know by this time tomorrow, but we needed something with a fast incubation period, and that was it."

I laughed into her chest. "I always knew that kissing you would be a mistake."

She tightened her embrace.

"They will let you go," she whispered fiercely. "Believe me."

I wished I could, but I had given up on hope weeks ago.

His eyes had been so trusting that I had almost cried aloud. The Colonel rarely allowed his feeling to be so nakedly displayed, but this time, when it really counted, I had seen love and absolute faith there.

He was putting his life in my hands, and I shuddered at the awesome responsibility.

Daniel met me at the gate, Teal’c a shadow behind him, and we wordlessly ringed back to the ship.

I had refused to take the flu preventative shot Janet had offered me, preferring that the disease take its own course through my body, as it would do Jack’s.

She had agreed, aware that I would be the one to visit him. If I displayed none of the symptoms I would seem suspicious, and the General had agreed.

Kovachek and the rest of SG9 operating in the town had also opted not to have the shot, making me literally shed a tear of gratitude before I could prevent it. We were a family, all of us, and would do anything for our fellow man.

That is why the Goa’uld feared the Tau’ri so much.

Somehow, the early morning beating didn’t seem so bad this time.

Maybe it was because for the first time I had hope. My guard from yesterday was noticeably absent.

"Yes!"

My little outburst got the expected response, but I was suddenly beyond caring. As long as the missing guard felt like I did, like death warmed up and given a name, I didn’t mind. Hopefully he had real close nursing. Perhaps one of the others had helped him home.

Maybe the disease was spreading.

Maybe.

For the first time in weeks I didn’t mind the beatings, I really didn’t.

Until they started on my feet.

The summons from the Governor came four days later.

It seemed that everyone who had contact with prisoner M12984, otherwise known as O’Neill was extremely sick, and could we help?

Even the governor was looking a bit off color, which pleased the sniffling Kovachek immensely.

There was a noticeable lack of information on Jack himself, which worried us, but like the good law abiding people we were, we said yes, of course, but we think we already know what the problem was.

Like duh, as the Colonel would say.

Dad forbade me to go, or Kovachek and his team. They had contacted us, not the other way around. It made good political sense not to infect more of the population if we could help it, just in case some sort of treaty was possible.

So we were whisked off to the ship’s infirmary, leaving Daniel and Janet to return to the planet.

Janet’s voice was breezy.

"Morning. Doctor’s Fraiser and Jackson here to see the camp commandant?"

I smiled at that, knowing as well as Janet did that the words ‘camp commandant’ usually referred to leaders of such places as Auschwitz. Not that these bastards would know, of course.

The doctor part seemed to reassure them, however. If only they knew I was an archaeologist, and not the medical doctor they so desired they wouldn’t be so happy.

But they didn’t and no one at the SGC felt like enlightening them.

The commandant, or whatever he was called, refused to see us, which was fine by us, so we dutifully followed the sweating guard up the stairs, wondering with sinking hearts what we would find.

I had never been inside the prison before, and looked around curiously. It was massive; a brilliant white building that seemed to reflect the sun, making me long for my sunglasses.

Once inside I could see tiny cells in which prisoners either stood or slept. I was instantly swept away from these pathetic creatures, a guard roughly pulling towards a staircase leading to an upper level.

Here there were more tiny cells, empty of everything apart from a hole in one corner, where the prisoner was expected to do his business, I guess.

It broke my heart to think that Jack was incarcerated in one of these, but it was beginning to look that way.

Finally the guard stopped outside a cell, unlocking the door and pointing towards an untidy pile of clothes in one corner.

"Take him," he snapped.

It took me a couple of seconds to realize that the clothes contained a body.

Someone was talking to me.

A familiar voice was crooning my name, imploring me to open my eyes, to look at him.

Him?

Daniel was here.

"Danny?" I croaked, blinking against the light.

He sighed with relief, his eyes wet.

"Jack. Janet’s here as well, You’re gonna be okay now."

I would have laughed had I had the strength, but one look at his expression and all thoughts of mirth evaporated. The poor man looked like someone had died.

"Danny?" I reached up, wanting to feel his warmth, wanting to know that he wasn’t a cruel mirage. "Janet’s here too?"

They nodded, eyes shining, and pulled me to my feet.

Dumb mistake.

I should have seen it coming.

I mean, sometimes I am so stupid.

If I had really looked, I would have seen that he was in no fit state to walk, but I didn’t, until it was too late.

And me a bloody medical doctor too. I swear, I should just tear up my certificate and start again.

What is the most basic thing they teach you?

Check the three B’s.

Breathing, bleeding and bones.

I, so happy to see the Colonel, checked nothing.

And got paid for it in bent silver pieces.

We pulled Jack to his feet, and he moaned and fainted. Just like that.

It was then that we noticed his skew feet.

Damn, I should have checked.

The bastards had broken his ankles, maybe in order to stop him from escaping, but more than likely in retaliation for the flu he had given him. Of course, he had been too obstinate to say anything, that’s if he had even realized, and we just plain hadn’t noticed.

Until it was too late.

My eyes met Daniel’s.

"We have no time to waste," I said, my face tight with worry. "If we don’t get him help, and quickly, he will die."

"Then we move," he said harshly.

I ignored the giggling guard and pulled him upright, my heart clenching at how light he was. The Jack O’Neill I knew hadn’t been at all. Despite his leanness, the Jack O’Neill I knew was heavy, his frame packed with sinewy muscle he used to great advantage. This Jack wasn’t the Jack I knew at all. The features were the same, but everything else seemed different. This Jack was an abused skeleton.

"Hang on Jack," Daniel grunted and pulled him into a fireman’s carry.

I had no time to fetch Teal’c, nor did I want to. This I had to do myself, after all, what had happened to him was partially my fault.

I should have insisted that we stop and take time out to translate the writings next to the gate. If I had done so, we could have turned tail and returned to the SGC, no harm done.

Instead, I had meekly followed Jack, and the rest was history.

He was so frail I almost overbalanced, compensating for a weight that simply wasn’t there, and then I turned towards the door.

"We will leave now." My voice was like ice.

Maybe it was my expression, or the closeness of Jack to him, but the guard instantly turned tail, marching back towards the stairs.

"Then leave," he snapped, pointing down. "And mind you don’t drop him."

Like he would even notice.

"Makwines."

A clickety-clack told me that someone somewhere had noticed.

"Colonel?" Her voice was soft. "Sir?"

"Makwines. They….nowse."

She obviously hadn’t a clue what I was saying.

"Doctor Fraiser is coming."

Good. Fraiser knew how to decipher chemical speak.

"Colonel?"

I felt her hands on mine, and smiled slightly.

"Tunch, So gud t be tunched."

"So good to be touched?"

I nodded, wishing that I could open my eyes, but the chemicals had sealed them shut.

"You’re welcome."

There was a catch to her voice that I hadn’t heard before.

"Alrve."

Her hand briefly squeezed mine.

"Yes, you’re alive, and we intend that you stay that way."

"Then shnt owff makwines. They…." I lost my trail of thought, but she understood. She and Daniel always made a good pair, able to translate every language in the known universe.

"They aren’t machines Colonel," she said. "It’s Jacob Carter’s ship. We’re taking you home."

EINDE

BetaTested by CiGiK - Cape Town - South Africa - 25th July 2003