TITLE: One More Time Again

AUTHOR: GEM, 23-July-04

ARCHIVE:

CATEGORY: Angst, whump

SPOILERS: None

SEASON/SEQUEL INFO: Sequel to 'Next Time' but it's not necessary to read that first

RATING: T

SUMMARY: The team's captor gave Jack one final "gift" before handing SG-1 over to Ba'al.

DISCLAIMER: "Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/ Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. We have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. Not to be archived without permission of the author."

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

ONE MORE TIME AGAIN

Hammond held his breath as he waited to see who would step through the glowing blue circle. It had been three long, nerve-wracking days since the Tok'Ra had told him of SG-1's whereabouts, captives of one of Ba'al's minor Goa'uld minions. The Tok'Ra high council had considered it too much of a risk to attempt to retrieve them, but felt that their Earth allies should be told of the final fate of their people.

Thank heavens for Jacob Carter. He had basically gone AWOL from the Tok'Ra ranks to try to save his daughter and her team. He had gone on to recruit Anise to impersonate the female Goa'uld who was scheduled to transport the captives to Ba'al. He hoped they were returning now with SG-1 safely in tow.

The water-like event horizon rippled, and Major Carter stepped through, her father beside her. Between them they held one end of a large cloth-covered box. Daniel Jackson lay on top of it, motionless.

They walked slowly and somberly forward and other end of the box appeared, with corners held by Teal'c and Anise. Hammond looked expectantly behind them, waiting to see Jack come through, watching his team's six as usual. After a brief pause, the wormhole closed, it's whumping sound leaving an emptiness inside Hammond as well as within the metal ring.

They walked down the ramp and set the box down carefully at the base. There was more sadness than urgency about them, telling the General that Jackson was not in need of urgent help, was possibly beyond help entirely.

Hammond stepped forward, reminding himself to be happy for the two - and maybe three -- out of four that had returned safely home. "Welcome home," he said gravely, nodding to each of them. He lay a hand gently on Daniel, assuring himself that the man was breathing. Addressing himself to the now-ranking officer of the group, he asked, "Major? Where is Colonel O'Neill?"

She looked down briefly, before her red-rimmed eyes once again met his. "He's… here, sir," she told him quietly, too low for the security forces to hear. She indicated the box and Hammond's heart fell that last inch as his faint hope died.

The inimitable Jack O'Neill was not out there awaiting rescue; he had come home a final time.

In a box.

Hammond nodded solemnly, trying hard to hold on to his own emotions. O'Neill was a part of this place; it would never be the same without him. Carter turned toward the box, on the side facing the wall rather than the security team, and the General moved slowly after her. He didn't want to look, to see the body of his second-in-command, his friend. At the same time, he couldn't not look upon him one last time.

He raised the cloth gently, with trepidation. And almost jumped back when he saw the glassy brown eyes staring sightlessly back at him from the stony face. Gods! Had they had the man stuffed? Like a trophy?

….

"Please!" He snapped awake with a jerk, his body convulsing reflexively before his arms and legs snapped back to the positions they had occupied for so long.

Don't move! Mustn't move or you'll -

A face appeared over him, hands touched, and he cringed automatically, squeezing his eyes shut and averting his face the barest inch. Instinct started his hands and feet moving to protect himself, fear returned them once more to the positions mandated by his tormentor. He was free to move, as before, but it was a false liberty; any movement of any kind could bring unimaginable pain

He felt rather than saw movement near him.

Don't move! Mustn't move His breath was rasping, the nearby monitor beeping frantically in time with his heart.

"It's all right! You're safe! You're home!"

It took several long trembling moments before the words sunk in. Home? Was he really home? He opened his eyes just a crack, ready to slam them back shut if it were another trick. A blur of white and brown appeared and he tried to bring it into focus. A hand took his and he gasped in fear as it was slowly raised.

Not the hands! Not again! No! He couldn't help himself. "Don't! Please!" he cried out, struggling to keep his arm down where it was safe.

Miracle of miracles, his hand was dropped. He held still, eyes closed again, quivering as he waited to find out what came next. As promised, mercy was granted when he asked sincerely enough. But he had also been promised that mercy came at a price.

A voice came. Just a voice.

"It's all right," it told him gently. "You're safe. You're home."

Did he dare trust it?

Another voice. "Daniel, Daniel, it's me, Sam. You're safe now, I promise."

A hand touched his, and he tensed, but there was no attempt to raise his limb.

"It is safe, DanielJackson," Teal'c confirmed. "We are home."

Teal'c? Sam? Dr Fraiser? It sounded like them, but still… He raised his hand - his left hand, better to risk that than his dominant right one, or his eyes - just a bit. Nothing happened. He edged it a bit higher. Still nothing. Ever so slowly, he moved it all the way up until it rested on his belly.

He cautiously opened his eyes, blinking to clear his vision. Teal'c. Sam. Dr Fraiser. With a drab gray background that could only be the hideous paint in SGC quarters. He slumped back with a relieved sigh, dropping his eyes shut in intense relief. He took a deep breath. He was home. Safe. In all his years as a linguist, he'd never heard anything so beautiful as those words, spoken by his own team. By Sam and Teal'c.

He jerked all the way up to a sitting position. "Jack!" He looked around. "Where's Jack?" They had all stepped back when he rose, and he saw it...

He rolled off the bed, and his knees buckled under his weight. Shrugging off helpful hands in his haste, he scrabbled toward the cage, kneeling in front of the colonel.

"Jack!" Daniel gripped the bars just under Jack's hands, looked into the man's eyes. "Jack, it's me! I'm ok! It's over!"

Jack didn't move.

Daniel glanced back at Dr Fraiser, who shook her head, then looked back at Jack. "Jack, Jack, we're safe. We were rescued." His face was bare inches from his friend's. "Jack, please. You can stop now. It's all over. Let go, Jack."

He moved his hands to one of Jack's, tried unsuccessfully to pry them off the bars. Eventually, he gave up.

Daniel looked up at the others. "What happened to him?"

"We were hoping you could tell us," Hammond informed him.

"Nothing. Nothing happened to him when he was in the room. Nothing was supposed to happen to him as long as I..."

"As long as you what?" Hammond regretted the sharpness of his tone, but he was afraid he was about to hear that Jackson had given up vital information to save O'Neill. Was an attack on the way?

"As long as I kept him..." Daniel looked away, past the side of the cage, his arms coming up and hugging himself. "...amused."

"Colonel O'Neill?"

"The Goa'uld."

"And how did you amuse him?" Hammond's voice was softer now, the 'I know it's hard but you really have to tell me' voice that he used all too often with men who had been in bad situations off-world.

"It doesn't matter," Daniel said. "It didn't involve anyone else or any information. And he promised..."

"The word of a Goa'uld is not to be believed," Teal'c said firmly.

"His could. It was part of the game." Daniel held himself all the tighter, still kneeling, staring at the floor next to Jack's enclosure.

"Did he make any 'promises' regarding Colonel O'Neill?" the General asked gently.

Daniel nodded, eyes down. "He promised..."

"Daniel?" Sam prompted after a moment.

Daniel nodded again, still not looking at anyone. His voice was a shaky whisper. "He said Jack would pick the tools that..."

Sam's eyes widened. "The tools? You mean in that room?"

Another nod, ending with a bowed head and little gasps as he held back the sobs.

"Oh, God..." Her hand came up to her mouth as if she were about to be sick.

"Captain?" Hammond prompted, taking her elbow as she swayed.

"Daniel was tortured, sir. The Colonel chose the, um, implements."

They were at a loss. Neither human nor Tok'Ra technology could find anything wrong with him. Dr Fraiser had woken Daniel with a mild stimulant in hopes that he had the vital clue to solve the mystery. But according to him, the Goa'uld had wanted Jack to move or speak. He had waited for the colonel to do something to choose Daniel's next torment. Their best guess now was that the Goa'uld, angry that Jack would be taken from him before making a choice, had somehow permanently paralyzed him.

"We must learn what occurred on that planet."

Dr Fraiser could not restrain the sarcasm. "I wish we'd have thought of that!"

Hammond took a more diplomatic tack. "Did you have something in mind, Anise?"

"Indeed. We can use this." She held up a memory device. "With proper questioning, his mind should provide the memories required."

Hammond considered. "Very well. But we will ask the questions."

Anise paused, miffed at the obvious implication that she or Jacob might ask for classified information from what was effectively a helpless man. She inclined her head. "As you wish." She knelt before Jack and attached the device to his temple, stepping back when it was done.

One wall suddenly appeared blurry as an image of the wall was displayed over the wall itself.

Anise frowned. "His mind may be damaged. It appears that he is thinking of nothing but the wall before him."

The wall flashed, so briefly that Hammond thought he may have imagined it. But no, he'd seen just the flash of a tongue sticking out before the wall picture returned. Jack O'Neill was in there, all right. Concentrating on something safe while under interrogation, as he would have been taught in Special Ops. Part of him wanted to jump for joy at the news. Part of him was horrified that an active mind might be trapped in a completely unresponsive body forever.

"Jack, why can't you move?"

The momentary flicker lasted long enough for them all to see it happen, but ended too quickly to make sense of it. The wall-on-the-wall returned.

"He's fighting it," Hammond told them. He put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "Son, I need you to help us help you. I want you to remember what happened."

Another flicker, shorter and brighter, and it was gone.

Hammond tried a third time, but the wall image just got clearer. Again, and lines on the wall intensified, becoming highlighted as Jack desperately focussed his attention on them and away from the sounds in the room.

The General sighed. "Thank you for the idea, Anise."

"I believe we have what we need, General Hammond."

Jacob filled in. "The device is a recorder. We can play it back more slowly than it was recorded. If he heard us, he probably remembered what happened. Like when someone says not to think of a pink elephant, and you can't help but think of one. Let's see." He fiddled with the device.

The image was fuzzy at first, and wavered at the edges. Two figures in cages, behind them nothing but the blank white walls of the room where they'd been held. A small sound was heard, and suddenly the image was clear and included a bit more of the surroundings. Sam realized that Jack must have been zoning out, and had abruptly become alert when he heard the sound.

Figures came into view. Two slaves in Egyptian garb. They lifted Carter's cage. The image constricted on the edges as Jack narrowed his eyes.

They came back for Teal'c soon after, struggling a bit more under his weight.

They came again, approaching his cage this time. One now carried a large syringe.

Fraiser started to ask if that was the Blood of Sokar, but was quieted by the General.

The slaves considered him. One bent down to peer closely, squinting through his beady black eyes. "Think he'll resist?"

"Hope so. The Master's been waiting for him to do something. And you know the Master does not like to be kept waiting." The other slave laughed, the sound coming out cold and nasal through his hawk-like nose. In the room, Daniel shuddered as he listened.

Jack didn't move as Hawk Nose knelt before him with the syringe. The syringe loomed large in the image, then there was the sound of it being squeezed. There was a rushing noise that Carter identified as the sound of the liquid in Jack's mouth, then a dripping as the liquid drained back across his lips.

A hand appeared, blocking half the view as it pinched his nose shut. The syringe filled the other half of the view and more fluid was squirted into his mouth. The image danced as Jack struggled against suffocation, unable to breathe through his nose, unwilling to swallow to clear his throat. Drops sounded with agonizing slowness as the fluid found its way back out. Sparkles appeared across the image as he grew faint. Finally, enough of the fluid leaked out and there was a little hiss as he risked a tiny breath through his mouth.

The syringe was removed from his mouth and placed in his nose. Fingers filled most of the view as they pinched his nostril tight around it to keep the fluid from leaking out. Fluid surged into his nose and down the back of his throat with a sick rushing sound. Again the picture danced as he tried not to gag. Fingers and syringe finally moved away, replaced by the two slaves.

Beady Eyes frowned. "He didn't do anything."

Hawk Nose shrugged. "He will. It's dewercs root. Kind of like the Blood of Sokar, only permanent. He won't know what's real and what's not ever again. Especially after the Master starts playing with him." He chuckled. "Remember So'lil?"

"The crazy girl?"

He nodded sagely. "Dewercs root."

"It makes you crazy?"

"Not directly. It let the Master appear to be her family, her friends, anyone he could get her to think of. The Gods can read our thoughts, you know. He showed me once, made her thoughts appear right in the air!"

Beady Eyes looked suitably impressed. Everyone watching recognized the description of the Goa'uld memory device, identical to the one they were now using, and grew more worried about what might be in store.

Hawk Nose continued, "The Master liked to get her to trust him - in whatever guise he was using - before he would strike. He said it was more fun that way."

Beady Eyes grimaced at Jack. "Almost feel sorry for the guy."

Hawk Nose snorted. "Better him than us!"

"Yeah, but can you imagine living your whole life like that? With no way to end it?"

"It can be counteracted, if you do it soon enough. You have to know what to look for, though, or you'll never find it."

"That's not gonna happen."

Hawk Nose laughed, a cold hollow sound. "Look at it this way. He has the honor of amusing a god. And he will be seeing his friends again soon enough." He paused. "Now, whether they are real or not, that's another story." He laughed again.

Looks were exchanged around the room at that comment. Jack could move but didn't dare to because of the drug's hallucinogenic properties.

Hammond's voice sounded, deep and sonorous, as the device continued its slow-motion playback.

"He's fighting it," Hammond told them. A sleeve appeared as the General put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "Son, I need you to help us help you. I want you to remember what happened."

The scene switched back to the planet, sound and motion seeming normal again as the slow motion compensated for the high-speed flashback.

Beady Eyes bent and took hold of the cage. "Come on, help me with this." They bent and lifted the cage.

The image swam nauseatingly as the cage swayed down the hall. It shrank partway, focussing on the nearest bars and letting the walls slide blurrily by.

They deposited him in what appeared to be the hold of a small ship. Sam and Teal'c were there, in their little cages. They called to him. The image focussed intently on them.

Feet came into view, wearing tan Tok'Ra wrappings. Jacob knelt down and opened Sam's cage. Her back filled most of the picture as she hugged her father. Over her shoulder, Jacob's eyes flashed gold.

The image narrowed to those eyes and froze there for long moments before the wall re-took its place. Clearly, this was the reason that Jack refused to help them help him; Selmak demonstrating control during a reunion with his host's daughter seemed to prove that the apparent rescue was actually an elaborate illusion.

All eyes were on Jacob/Selmak now. He put up his hands defensively. "Selmak does that when he gets angry."

His head dipped, then raised as Selmak took control.

"I offer my apologies for my outburst," he said solemnly. He moved to the cage and knelt near Jack. The device, finished with playback, echoed his image on the wall. No longer being questioned directly, Jack had stopped his scrutiny of the wall. "Is there anything I can do to prove to you that this is real?"

The image switched to one of their former Goa'uld captor doing something. Repeatedly.

Daniel bit his lip as the colonel clearly told the nameless Goa'uld to go f-himself. Who knew Jack could visualize so clearly? "Well, I doubt we'll be able to get him to do that, if it's even physically possible." He half-smiled at Jack, proud of his strong defiance but still worried that they'd never cure him. "So, what can we do?"

"We will research this dewercs root," Selmak declared. "Now that we know what the substance is, we should be able to counteract it."

Jacob departed immediately, returning to the Tok'Ra to search for information regarding the poison. Anise stayed at the SGC to assist in the search for a cure. She checked the colonel every few hours with the healing device for any sign of change, and helpfully relieved the soreness and tension she found.

They considered prying the colonel's fingers off the cage to remove him, but decided against it. Not knowing how the dewercs root kept him stiff, they couldn't know whether moving him would cause damage to his body. They started an IV to feed him, and draped a gown over him to cover the tubes handling bodily waste. Oddly, he didn't seem to sleep, but other than that they could find nothing.

Three days later, they stood again in the VIP room as Jacob sadly informed them that there was nothing in the Tok'Ra data banks about dewercs root or anything like it. He would keep looking, as would the Tok'Ra when able, but the Tok'Ra council could not dedicate any further resources. They sent their condolences on the loss of a leader of the Tau'Ri.

Anise inclined her head respectfully and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?"

She paused, surprised by the question. "There is nothing further to be done here." She inclined her head again and followed her escort back to the gate room.

The claxons blared. "Unauthorized Off-World Activation!"

Hammond went quickly to the control room. It felt oddly lonely, knowing that SG-1 was here, on base, and had not come to stand with him.

"Receiving Tok'Ra IDC, sir."

"Open the iris." Not that he particularly wanted to see a Tok'Ra so soon after they'd washed their hands of the colonel's plight, but 'they give up too easily' wouldn't look good on his gate-activity report to the Pentagon as a reason for not allowing an ally to visit.

The silver circle peeled away to reveal the glowing blue of the event horizon. A thin man in ancient Egyptian garb strutted onto the ramp, stopping in surprise. Anise stepped through behind him. Her outfit, a particularly revealing one this time, caused a stir among the men. It was quickly squelched by a stern glare from the General.

Anise and her companion waited on the ramp for Hammond to approach. She inclined her head. "General Hammond. Has there been any change?"

"No," he answered simply. The Colonel's presence was still mostly unknown to the base, and would remain so until all hope of a cure was gone. It had been only a few days; George Hammond was no where near ready to give up. "Is this who I think it is?" He indicated the hawk-nosed man beside her, who straightened smugly and reached toward her in a familiar way.

"Yes. His name is Skot," she said disdainfully, her tone stopping the man mid-gesture. The man looked uncertainly at the two of them.

"Right this way!" Hammond could hardly keep from asking questions as they walked quickly to the VIP room. He steadfastly ignored the surreptitious looks from his staff as he paraded down the hall with what looked like a porn star and an extra from the cast of 'The Mummy' in tow.

Janet looked up as the door opened. "General," she began. "There's been no -" She paused, seeing the half-dressed Tok'Ra woman enter behind him. Her tone hardened. "Hello, Anise. Can I get you anything? A coat, perhaps?"

Hammond suppressed a chuckle, glad that a woman had spoken up about the ridiculous outfit their ally was - almost -- wearing.

Anise took the words at face value. "No, thank you. The temperature is moderate. However, I have brought something for you." She stepped aside, pulling Skot forward for them to see.

Hammond watched Skot's reactions. The man stepped forward, puffed up with pride as a 'goddess' showed him off. The smirk that started when he saw Jack still in his cage froze when he saw the other three former captives standing unrestrained in the room. Skot's gaze shifted uncertainly to Anise. Doubt shifted to amazement as Anise told the room that she owed a debt to O'Neill, and was being careful to repay it in such a way that he would accept it this time. She had followed all of the regulations that she was aware of, taken him without violence, and brought him back here to share to ensure she would make no mistakes. When Skot tried to object that she had not 'taken' him at all yet but that he was ready to 'share' if they were, Hammond understood the reason for the ludicrous lingerie Anise wore. She had, to put it politely, 'dressed for success' when she 'simply asked' Skot to accompany her through the gate.

"So… when you said there was nothing more to be done here…" Daniel began.

"I meant that there were things that could be done elsewhere," Anise finished. "I have tried to follow your rules. Can we now question Skot?"

He cleverly tried to hold out until he received some of the implied pleasures from the goddess, or failing that, from one of her minions. Her so-called 'minions' grew angry, and the goddess quickly became impatient.

"I will make him answer." Anise raised her palm, displaying the already-glowing hand device.

Skot hit the floor, hands over his head.

Hammond put his hand firmly over hers, lowering it. "I can't let you do that." Much as I would like to, he finished silently. His solemn tone gave away his reluctance.

"For what reason?" Teal'c saw no cause to protect the hawk-nosed little man now cowering near the wall.

"The US military is bound by very specific rules regarding the treatment of detainees. I can't allow you to harm him unless there is clear and urgent danger to our personnel."

Anise saw the simple answer to that problem. "Then I suggest that General Hammond and Major Carter step out of the room. We will share all information with you."

"I can't do that, knowing that you will harm him in my absence." He'd protected the dying Apophis, and sadly, he'd have to defend Skot as well.

"I can ensure his cooperation without doing permanent damage," Anise reassured him. "Surely you are permitted to provide such incentive?"

Hammond sighed. "I'm afraid that while he is here I am required to ensure his relative safety." He wasn't happy about it, either, but this was a very strict tenet. All the more so, given recent events on Earth. Every military commander was now under scrutiny with regards to detainees. He would give up his command, even his freedom, if necessary to save Jack's life, but he'd really rather be sure that they couldn't find a cure some other way first. And it had been only a few days so far. Maybe he could just keep Skot until they had exhausted all other possibilities.

"Allow me to accompany Anise and this…individual…through the gate. I shall return with the necessary information." Teal'c turned his icy stare on the hawk-nosed man. "I will not, however, guarantee there will be no permanent damage."

The man cringed even further, looking to Hammond as his savior.

Hammond was sorely tempted to send the trio through the gate, and let nature take its course. "I can't allow you to do that."

Anise was frustrated. She would never understand Tau'Ri moral codes. However, she had vowed to O'Neill that she would find a way to thank him, and was determined that curing him of this paralysis would be it. And she would do it within the confines of the restrictive Tau'Ri regulations. Finally, an idea came to her. She may not understand the reasons behind their behavior, but she could still use it to her advantage. "Very well. By your standards, it was wrong of me to bring Skot here. I will return him immediately, with apologies."

The hawk-nosed man straightened triumphantly.

"And a full explanation to his master of how he came to be here. I believe that is what you would consider to be fair."

'You can't! You can't send me back there and tell him!"

Hammond barely suppressed a smile, understanding the new approach, and very relieved to have a plan in action. "We can and we will. Immediately."

"No! Send me to another world! ANY other world!"

"I'm afraid I'm not authorized to use the gate for pleasure trips."

"No! Please!"

Hammond shook his head. "I can't send you anywhere but where you came from. And I have no reason to keep you here since you are not providing anything of value to us. Anise will explain the situation in detail to your master. I'm sure he'll understand."

"He will not!" The games his master had played with the fair-haired Tau'Ri were for entertainment and held no true malice from the Goa'uld. They would be as nothing to what he would do when angry.

Anise reached for Skot, to lead him away.

"If I - If I give you information, will you send me somewhere else?"

"If you can tell us how to cure the colonel."

"I don't know how!" He fairly howled in fear.

"What do you know?" Carter demanded.

"The master said to administer the potion, and to be sure he," he indicated Jack, "saw the writing on the syringe. We were to discuss the effects, talk about So'lil. The master was sure it would make him react. But it did not."

They grilled him for some time, asking questions over and over in hopes that some new detail would be revealed. All they accomplished was to raise the colonel's vital signs. The memory device was reapplied in hopes that Jack was remembering something of importance, or trying to communicate. All it showed was the wall-on-the-wall, a glowing highlight racing around the cracks as he frantically focused his mind on them to block out their conversation. They moved the discussion into another room.

Teal'c stayed behind. He sat cross-legged next to the cage, sliding one hand inside to rest on his friend's shoulder. Slowly, the image from the recall-device began to fade. The big man waited until it was nearly gone.

"We will not cease our efforts until you are well," he somberly assured the colonel.

The wall image became clearer and Teal'c understood the suspicious response. Were their positions reversed, he would not trust, either.

"There is much I would like to say to you, O'Neill, but this is not the time." He moved his hand to cover Jack's, there in front of the man's eyes.

The displayed image shifted to focus on the pair of hands instead of the wall beyond.

They sat in silence for quite some time, until Daniel entered.

"They want your input, Teal'c. I'll stay with Jack."

Teal'c inclined his head, and rose gracefully to exit.

Daniel stood for a moment, just looking at Jack. This was really the first time they'd been alone since… well, since their return. He was glad now that it hadn't happened earlier. Daniel had had days to think, to start the required counseling, to consider Jack's situation. Time to decide to take a page from the colonel's book, much as that rankled just now, and bottle up his true feelings.

Feeling.

Hate. He hated Jack. Hated him for what the Goa'uld had done to pass the time when Jack wouldn't choose. Hated him for being stubborn enough for the Goa'uld to paralyze him. Hated that the ordeal couldn't be put behind them because of Jack's condition. Hated him for being helpless now, so that he felt so guilty for hating him that he could never admit it to anyone else. Hated that the only thing he could do was to emulate Jack and keep all the hate inside until he worked through it by himself. Hated, finally, that he knew that he would work it through, even if it took longer this way. Jack's way.

He picked up his laptop and settled himself next to Jack's cage, where everyone would expect to find him. Daniel opened up an image of some text that needed to be translated, ostensibly as something to keep himself occupied while Jack-sitting, but with the unspoken bonus of irritating the colonel with hours of 'meaningless drivel.' He felt petty for doing it, but still couldn't resist the meager release of his pent-up hatred. All part of working it through, he told himself.

When Carter came to relieve him eventually, he was hoarse from translating aloud. The others were taking a meal break, she told him, and he was welcome to join them. She watched him go, settling herself in the position he'd vacated. She sighed, leaning her head against the bars of the cage.

"Sorry, sir, no luck yet." She glanced over at him, still not used to the lack of response. "If we just had that damned syringe," she muttered.

An image of the syringe appeared against the wall. The colonel had heard her.

She eyed the object balefully as it hovered ominously. If only it were real. Just a few drops of whatever the hell was in there could make all the difference. The bane of her existence just hung there like a still-life painting. Apparently the colonel had no desire to run the memory forward to the next events.

"You…are…scr-ewed," she said slowly.

The image vanished, replaced once again by the wall-on-the-wall.

Carter went to the intercom and had Daniel paged. He quickly returned with the General, Teal'c, Janet, and Anise.

"Major?"

Carter knelt by Jack. "Colonel, think about the syringe again."

The image of the wall intensified.

"Sir, please."

The highlight chased across the cracks in the wall.

She turned to Anise. "He was thinking about the syringe. Can you bring the picture back?"

Anise adjusted the memory device until the image appeared.

"Look at it!" Carter exclaimed. "Just look at it! It was here all along!"

"What?"

"The letters. DEWERCS R U. It's not a 'root' at all. It's R-U. Read it backwards. U. R. Screwed."

"Major…" Hammond shook his head. He'd give her some mandatory down-time, chalk it up to over exhaustion. And hope that she hadn't actually lost her mind.

"I know I'm right, sir! Why would a Goa'uld use English letters? Why would he tell Skot to be sure that the colonel saw them? Why be sure that the colonel heard all about the supposed effects, if he intended to toy with him? If it really worked, it would be more…fun…if the colonel didn't know."

She was right, he realized. It explained why they couldn't find any root with these properties. And it fit the Goa'uld's behavior.

All in the name of fun.

If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice

Daniel snapped off the radio, but the words echoed in his mind.

If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.

Jack had refused to choose the Goa'uld's tools for him, remaining silent and immobile so that no word or action could suggest any implement. In parallel to Jack's voluntary paralysis, Daniel had been made to hold still without physical restraint. Any sound or move made before the colonel's next choice would be punished.

Not bad at first, but the Goa'uld had quickly grown bored with the lack of action. And, as he cheerfully pointed out, he had not limited himself to only the tools Jack chose. He reminded Daniel that they had planned to consider games for Next Time while they waited for the colonel to make his choices This Time. The Goa'uld made suggestions, and demonstrated them on his victim. Sudden, frightening things meant to scare him into moving. Painful things intended to force him to move.

It had been by far the worst of his visits to the Goa'uld.

If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.

He hoped Jack never realized that.