Summary: Oh god, how to put it into 25 words or less... Sam and Jack are captured and imprisoned on an alien planet. Can they overcome deception, betrayal and even death? So much to talk about! Little bit of mythology, bit of 'Shawshank Redemption' influence. Lots of stuff. Angst. Much angst.
A/note: So far to the left of canon, it's not funny. However, you all know me. It'll end semi-nicely. Yes, I know Syracuse is a city in Italy, but I like the name. Deal. It'll be angsty; it'll be sad. Tiny (as in teeny tiny) fragments of Sam/other and Jack/other, but you know it's all about the S/J love. Thanks in advance to my beta :) Enjoy!

~ Syracuse ~

Sam held onto her Colonel's jacket tightly and he returned the desperate, yet comforting action, though with far less energy. They had stepped through the gate yesterday morning. It was supposed to be a routine reconnaissance mission; Daniel wanted to trek the rolling hills to find a set of ruins mapped out by the UAV. So Sam and Colonel O'Neill had headed off in one direction, Daniel and Teal'c in the other.

It was only as they tried to cross a ridge of sand dunes that led to a beach that she heard his pained scream. She had turned back to find her Commanding Officer lying in the sand and a large metal clamp around his ankle... Throughhis booted ankle. If it was not for the thick leather of his combat boots, she was sure the razor sharp trap would have all but severed the limb.

God, she had neverheard him cry out like that.

So now, she sat in the brown, bloodied sand, with the Colonel's head and shoulders in her lap as he clung to her like a child plagued by nightmares. They were completely soaked and Sam was shivering violently as the strong winds hit her back and the salty mist burned her eyes. She had been his windbreak during their sleepless night and was feeling the effects of her exhaustion. Jack had stopped shivering earlier that morning, which left her more than a little worried. He had been in shock for hours after he triggered the concealed trap.

Now, he had a fever and lost feeling below his knee. Sam could only guess the fever was a result of infection. The sharp, jagged edges of the metal clamp cut through his boot and were firmly embedded in his lower calf muscle. Any movement had him screaming in agony.

And now she found herself thinking how easy it would be to shoot him. or knock him out

It would put him out of his misery, even if for only an hour or so. She could bear the silence and if she couldn't, at least she would have chosen the lesser of two evils.

"Carter?" his weak voice managed to reach her ears against the biting wind and icy rain.

Sam closed her eyes and grimaced, instantly chastising herself for her previous, treacherous thoughts.

"Yes...S-Sir?" her teeth chattered.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, turning his face into her stomach and pressing the icy tip of his nose into her middle.

"Aside from the obvious?" she retorted with a weak smile. If she forced her body to relax, the shivering subsided slightly.

"'Course."

"Home, Sir," she dipped her chin and hunched her shoulders. The surface of his skin was cold, but she could feel the underlying heat. It was a morbid thought, but his fever kept her warm. They were as likely to die of exposure as injury or dehydration.

"Home, sweet home..." he mused and huffed a chuckle, "I got this one."

"Sir?" she opened one eye and saw a tiny twitch in the corner of his.

"A charm from the skies seems to hallow us here, which, seek through the world, is never met with elsewhere..." His voice was breathy and Sam opened both eyes to stare at her Colonel in fascination. "...Home! Home! Sweet, sweet home!"

Jack's chest rumbled with an unheard laugh as he continued.

"There's no place like home!" he concluded. Sam sniffed and let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding.

"Sir, did you just spout a line of poetry to me?" Sam asked cheekily. There was not much enthusiasm in her voice, but Jack picked up what was there.

"Opera. Clari, Maid of Milan. It's where that expression comes from."

"I didn't know that," She confessed.

"Score one for me." He smiled tiredly. "And you know..." he mumbled, causing Sam to gather him completely in her arms, "...it ain't over 'till the fat lady sings."

"It's not over Sir," Sam shook her wet head.

"Carter?"

"What?"

"I'm glad you disobeyed my order," he sighed.

As the sun had set the previous night, he ordered her to leave him and go get help. Sam had refused. She sat down, pulled her CO into her lap and held on for dear life. They could only hope that Daniel and Teal'c found them. It was strange, but in her panicked attempt to call for help, she found their radios unresponsive.

"Learned from the best," she whispered. She was exhausted and only her grip on the Colonel kept her sitting upright. "I'm gonna shut my eyes for a bit, Sir. If I fall asleep, wake me up," she requested as her chin fell onto her collar bone.

Little did Sam realise that the Colonel did not intend to wake her. He knew she was absolutely drained, both emotionally and physically. He was prepared to let her sleep for an hour or so; at least until he was nearly asleep himself. He didn't get that far, and was soon dozing in her lap.

Sam's sleep was cut short by a sharp, stinging sensation in different parts of her body: her forearms, her shoulders, her thighs and calves. As she returned to their hellish excuse for reality, the pain became stronger. Something was tugging at her flesh; something beneath her skin. Then it pulled viciously and Sam could feel her flesh tearing. There was voices and screams around her. As the pulling at her body continued, Sam identified the screaming as that of her Colonel and her own. She opened her eyes for only a second before she let out another cry. Hot blood ran down her limbs and warmed her skin, creating tiny goosebumps.

They were surrounded. Four, maybe five men stood in the sand with metal cables in their hands. She didn't have the mindset to take in their appearances, too consumed by what they were actually doing to her. By the way they were pulling them, Sam felt like they had stabbed her with small harpoons and were trying to reel in their catch. Was this how it felt to be drawn and quartered? Surely, she would die of blood loss or shock.

"CARTER! LEMME GO!" Jack roared loudly, writhing aggressively. Sam realised she was still holding onto him. If these men were trying to pull her away from him, she was forcing that clamp further into his leg. She nearly passed out from the pain.

Sam released him, as ordered. She was, first and foremost, a soldier. They dragged her through the wet sand by the darts in her skin and the last thing she heard was her own strangled voice screaming her Colonel's name.

~ SJ ~

Ooh, dramatic. Stay tuned for the next chapter. Reviews welcome. I do not own the Opera of 'Clari, The maid of Milan'. Thought it might give Jack a bit of depth. Stay Tuned. Two stories at once. Oh my :)