Right Where You Belong, Part One, Stargate SG-1, NC-17

[phantisma]

Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Title: Right Where You Belong, Part One
Characters/Pairings: Sam Carter/Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter/Jack O'Neill/Daniel Jackson, Ba'al/Daniel Jackson, Daniel Jackson/OMCs (implied), Daniel Jackson/Sha're (implied), Janet Frasier, Charles Kawalsky
Word Count: 21726 (total fic)
Rating: NC-17

Summary: In an alternate universe, Jack & Sam live together in the city-state of Abydos, where slavery is legal and regulated, and the city is run on a rigid set of laws and military control. Daniel Jackson is a history teacher in an independent town north and east of Abydos, until one day he returns from a trip to find his town destroyed, his wife dead.

The nightmare is just beginning for Daniel, a nightmare that spirals quickly into the dark when he's found by looters and used for sport before he's sold as a slave.

A/Ns & Warnings: This is all
badfalcon's fault. She was telling me about this story her muse Bob! was rambling about and Brain sort of took over and built this great big world and it became this epic, huge monster. WARNINGS: NON-CON/RAPE, violence,
Slavery, Beatings, Restraints, Punishment, Sex Toys, Cages, Bruises, Pain, Burning, Branding, serious Daniel Whumping.



The drive south through the hills and trees was quieter than usual, though to be fair, that was largely due to the fact that the his companion on the drive up had decided to stay another week, but he didn't mind too much. His head was still on the archeological find he'd been investigating…and on the impending arrival of his first born at home.

He'd promised Sha're he'd be home in time and he was pushing the old jalopy pretty hard to keep the promise. It had been a good week, filled with inquisitive students and time spent with his old mentor and Daniel Jackson was a happy man. Despite the increasing pressure of the neighboring city-states, both his home town along the coast, and the one he'd just been visiting had managed to stay independent. It was a lot of work, but they were growing.

The road between Argos, where his wife waited for him, and Jebanna, north and east, was fairly secure, and with the work the two towns had done, it was just over an eight hour drive on mostly paved roads, provided you had a vehicle with a working engine. It made trade between the villages easier, and helped them resist that pressure from Helios, north of Argos and Madrona, east of Jebanna.

Travelers still got hit by Raiders from time to time, but it had been well over a year since the last attack.

He was anxious to get home, to his wife and the baby that would be born soon. And, school would be starting again soon, his students coming to him to study the history of their land, of the people, and how the city-states came to be. It would be quite some time before he got back to Jebanna.

He turned off the southern road and started the climb up the last hill, the trees thinning as he went. If he beat the sunset, he'd be able to see the village in a few minutes time.

The sky was getting dark early, clouds filling the horizon, black and ominous. He edged the window open to see if he could smell impending rain, but recoiled when what he smelled was far more acrid and vile. His heart raced as he crested the hill and realized that what he took for clouds was in fact smoke, billowing from the town that hugged the shoreline below him. Flames still licked along some of the buildings…or the ruins that had been buildings.

He stared uncomprehendingly at the destruction, his hands shaking . "Sha're." He whispered her name and shifted gears to race down the hill at breakneck speed. Nothing stirred as he drove through the burnt out streets, swerving around rubble and burnt out cars.

The stairs of the town hall were strewn with bodies and parts of bodies and smoke poured from its black, empty doors and windows. The smell of death rose up to greet him as he stopped the car, the street too blocked with debris to be passable. He covered his mouth with his shirt and ran through the dying sunlight toward the modest home he and Sha're had built together.

The door stood open, cracked and broken and the walls were leaning to the left. As far as he could tell the street had been spared the worst of the burning, but had clearly been bombarded. "Sha're?" He stepped in through the doorway, ducking his head to avoid the hanging light fixture.

Inside the place was a mess of broken furniture and broken glass, books strewn about , the floor covered with debris. "Sha're?"

He stepped around the upended chair and stopped cold, tears burning at the corners of his eyes as he found her, unmoving, her hands curled around her belly, her eyes open and staring at him. "No. No. No. No." He took the three steps to her, slipping on debris and books and blood, falling to his knees to pull her into his arms. The bullet hole was square between her eyes.

Her body was cold. It had been a while since the destruction happened. Since someone had killed her. "Sha're!" He screamed her name and curled forward over her, as if he could protect her somehow, or will her back to him with the sheer force of his grief. It tore through him, tore him in half and he screamed until his voice broke and conscious awareness bled away into the ruins of what had once been his home.

He wasn't sure how long he'd sat there, holding her, crying into the blood soaked dress she wore, but when he blinked, when something intruded into the numb, dark sphere of his thoughts enough to get him to look up, the sun was shining in through the broken windows and it was approaching the highest point in the sky. He drew in a shuddering breath and looked around himself, trying to place the intrusion.

Voices. He heard voices.

Daniel eased his wife's body off of him and stood, his legs protesting after the hours spent sitting on the floor. He picked his way toward the door, frowning and wishing he'd thought to put his glasses back on.
He started to turn back to get them, but something hit him, hard upside his head and he went stumbling back, tripping and falling as his head rang.

"Well, well…look what I found."

Daniel couldn't seem to make the speaker clear, his vision swimming and greying out. Something pressed against the spot where he'd been hit and pain exploded around it, making the grey give way to black.

Pain filled his head and pulled him up from unconsciousness. The bright sun beat into his eyes as he was dragged between two large men away from the still smoldering rubble of his village. "No." He struggled against them, but his limbs felt heavy and his head was too big, and they were very strong.

"Garrack, I bring my bounty to share with the horde," a voice said as Daniel was dumped to the ground.

Horde…he swallowed hard. Raiders. He squinted into the sun, trying to get a better look at who was speaking. "You call this bounty?"

"Have you seen what was left in there? Eighty percent of the buildings were burned. That jewelry was from all we could find in the way of bodies to harvest from."

"What about him?" A foot pushed Daniel's face to the side. He grunted, trying to push up with little success.

"Pathetic, isn't he? I found him weeping over a woman."

"Kill him and be done with it." Daniel's heart raced, fear mixing with the grief in his stomach. In death he could be with Sha're, and he knew that anything else at the hands of these men would be far worse.

"He'll fetch a price." Daniel froze, terror flushing through him. Fetch a price.

"On our heads, Ba'al. Remember the last time we smuggled undocumented slaves into market?"

"That was Chulak. We're no where near there. Our next stop is Abydos. Kawalsky has people there."

A hand fisted in Daniel's hair and he was pulled up, his eyes skipping over the faces, trying to determine the biggest threat. Undocumented, illegal slave…a fate worse than bleeding out his life beside his dead wife, worse than most anything he could imagine. Slavery was bad enough, but what they had planned…Daniel couldn't even imagine what they had planned.

"He is pretty enough. Might provide some distraction for the men." The hand released him and Daniel stumbled, falling back against the men who had dragged him from his home. "If he still lives when we reach Abydos in five days, we will see what price he will win you."

"Bring him." Hands grabbed his arms and pulled, dragging him away. They stopped him beside a jeep that had seen better days, binding his hands in thick rope before lifting him into the back and tying the rope to the roll bar.

From that vantage point he could see the Raider's caravan. It was a good twenty vehicles, plus animals. They'd clearly had a good season. The rains would be coming soon. The horde would sell off what it could, purchase what it needed and return to its winter camp, where its women and children awaited them. The one called Ba'al came to sit in front of him, smirking as he looked up at Daniel. "We ride to sunset. Be a good boy."

The line of vehicles started moving, south and away from the smoking ruins of everything he had loved. It was well after nightfall when the caravan stopped, having made the turn east, away from the water. Daniel was left tied to the jeep as camp sprung up around him, tents of varying sizes and luxury.

He didn't know much about the culture within the Raider horde, and what he did know filled him with an icy dread for what was to come. The Horde was largely made up of those who had been ejected from the various city states for various crimes, or escaped and chose the life of a nomad over one of the independent towns. In the spring, the horde separated into raiding parties, and come the rains, they came back together, retreating to the south for the winter.

He pulled on his bound hands, not for the first time. His hands were raw from it, but if he was going to try to run, it had to be now, before they crossed into the desert. And he had to try. These were men of vile perversions, who made sport of violence and were known for their appetite for rape.

Before he could get much further than pulling on the ropes, hands were reaching out of the dark, cutting the rope that held him to the bar and pulling him from the vehicle. He was dragged into a tent and dropped on the ground before his hands were yanked up, cut loose and heavy iron manacles were locked tightly around them. His arms were then pulled to the sides and he was forced up onto his feet.

Chains ran out to posts on either side of him and were locked down. The men left then and from behind a canvas wall the one called Ba'al appeared. His dark hair was cut close to his head, his greying goatee neatly trimmed. His feet were bare on the thick carpeting laid over the bare ground and the red and gold robe he wore was open to reveal his bare chest. He smiled as he approached Daniel. "I know what you're thinking."

"That this is all a big mistake and you're going to let me go?" Daniel asked before he realized it probably wasn't wise. Pain flared in his cheek bone as he was backhanded across the face.

"Trust me when I tell you that there is no mistake. You belong to me now, and while I have to share you with the men until we reach Abydos, tonight it will be just you and me."

Daniel really didn't like the sound of that, but his head was ringing and he didn't think saying so was in his best interest. Ba'al looked Daniel over before crossing to a table and picking up a knife. "Now then, let us get a look at you."

He held his breath as the knife neared his face, but instead of threatening him, it just dipped down to the collar of his shirt, slicing it open as if it were air. In less than a minute, Daniel's shirt was in pieces on the floor. Ba'al's hand caressed over his skin, exploring it like he was some horse or dog, slapping down against muscle. He was smiling when he came back to Daniel's face.

"I was worried that you were too skinny under those clothes. That would mean our fun would end far too soon. I'm glad to see you have some muscle on your bones."

He could feel the heat as he flushed, fear flushing through him again. "Look, I'm just a history teacher. I--" He was backhanded again, harder this time, knuckles finding his cheekbone, just in from where they'd hit him to knock him out.

"Slaves do not speak unless they are directly asked a question."

"I'm not--" He ducked away from the blow, but that didn't save him from it, Ba'al just altered his delivery and Daniel took his fist to the stomach.

"I do rather enjoy inflicting pain, so please understand that before you choose to speak again." Daniel gasped for air as Ba'al turned his blade to Daniel's pants and shoelaces, leaving him standing in only his underwear. "Yes, that's better."

The knife went back on the table and Ba'al lifted a goblet, sipping at its contents while he contemplated Daniel. "Such beautiful pale skin…just waiting for me to paint." He walked around Daniel, his hand wandering over skin, randomly pinching or hitting or squeezing. When his hands caressed over the cotton covering Daniel's ass, Daniel pulled away. In response, Ba'al's fingers fisted in his hair and yanked him back. "Stand still."

His hand snaked around Daniel's hip then, grabbing Daniel's cock through the underwear and pulling on it. "Your body belongs to me. I will do with it as I see fit." He squeezed Daniel's cock, harder and harder until Daniel was starting to see stars, his breath coming in short pants of air. "Now then, shall we begin?"

He moved away, off behind Daniel and Daniel's first clue he had returned was the sound of leather hitting flesh. It took a second for the sting to register and his brain to process that he'd just been hit….with something hard covered in leather. Before he could figure it out, he was struck again, and again, hard enough to leave welts across the tender skin of his back. By the fourth hit he had decided that it was a riding crop or something similar.

Each blow came harder than the one before, and in only minutes he couldn't keep from grunting and yelling. His skin was hot, and he couldn't breathe as tears ran over his face. His knees buckled and only the chains attached to his wrists kept him from crashing to the ground.

Ba'al chuckled behind him, his hand running roughly over the raised and bloody skin, pressing against places where the beating had broken skin. He scraped down Daniel's back, until he came to the waistband of Daniel's underwear, hooking them and dragging them down.

"No." Daniel got his feet under him and tried to keep from being stripped, but Ba'al punched him hard in the ribs and while Daniel was catching his breath, pulled the underwear off. His hands immediately parted Daniel's cheeks, his fingers sweeping through his crack. "No." Daniel yelled, pulling frantically at his restraints. He tried to tighten up, tried to pull away, earning a swat of the crop across his newly exposed ass.

Ba'al moved away, coming around to grab Daniel's face. "Trust me when I tell you that this will go better for you if you don't resist."

"Please…don't. I'm begging you."

He smiled, but it wasn't at all comforting. "I do like begging." He brought the crop down over Daniel's chest. "But I hardly think you're doing a good job of it." His hand moved to cup Daniel's soft cock, pulling it as if he was trying to get it to harden. "I would have guessed you're one who liked pain. Still, maybe the stimulation's a bit much for your first time. That's okay, I have a remedy."

Once again he went back to the table and when he came back, he had a hypodermic needle. He grinned as he leaned under Daniel's arm and jabbed the needle into his ass. "There. That should help." He returned the needle to the table and came back, his hand immediately returning to Daniel's cock, stroking it slowly while he tapped the riding crop across Daniel's nipples. Daniel bit his tongue and turned his head, not sure what drugs he'd been injected with, but praying his body wouldn't do what Ba'al seemed determined to make it do.

All too soon his hopes were broken as his cock filled and hardened in his captor's hand and Ba'al grinned at him. "Now, that's more like it." He stroked until Daniel was fully hard, then stepped back. "Very good. Now, let's see about that mouth of yours." His hand slid down to his belt, unbuckling it and sliding his hand into his pants. Daniel closed his eyes, but Ba'al's hand clamped onto the back of his neck, pulling his head down until something was rubbing over his lips. "Open your mouth."

Daniel shook his head, struggling against the pull of that hand, panting through his nose.

"Open your mouth."

Fire raced across his cock as the crop came down across it hard and cruel. Daniel gasped and Ba'al shoved his cock into Daniel's mouth. He held Daniel tight, shoving his cock in until Daniel was choking and his head starting to swim. Just as he was sure he was going to pass out, Ba'al pulled back and started a shallower rhythm, punctuating every three or four thrusts with a blow from the crop to Daniel's hips or legs, then tapping it lighter against Daniel's cock.

Daniel could taste salt when Ba'al pulled back, holding his cock and moving around behind Daniel. "You better hope you learn how to suck cock better than that before we get to Abydos."

Daniel started when hands parted his ass cheeks again. "No. Please." His body was starting to tremble and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep his feet before he passed out.

Ba'al's finger brushed over Daniel's hole and he chuckled. "You don't get a choice in this, slave. You're going to get fucked. You can bend over and take it, or you can fight me and get hurt before I fuck you anyway."

He moved away and when he came back, Daniel felt something wet poured over him and Ba'al's hand returned, his finger sliding through the slick wetness, up his crack to his hole. Daniel yelled when that finger pushed into him, lurching forward to escape. Ba'al merely pulled him back and fucked the finger in and out. When he added a second finger, Daniel lurched again and Ba'al withdrew, slapping his hand against welted skin and growling in frustration.

He left Daniel's area of awareness and when he returned, he yanked Daniel's head down and fastened something heavy around his neck….a collar of heavy iron, it wasn't until he pulled his hand away that Daniel realized that there was an even heavier ball hanging from it, pulling his head down and making him spread his feet a little further apart to keep his balance. The position was awkward and made his shoulders ache, but Ba'al seem satisfied and returned to poking his fingers into Daniel's ass.

"Now then, as I was saying…" There was more lube and three fingers and Daniel yelled, his face red from embarrassment and fear. The position didn't help any, his head pulled lower than his shoulders, letting the blood pool. The fingers came out and Daniel held his breath as he watched through his spread legs as Ba'al move closer. He rubbed his cock through the wetness smeared down Daniel's crack then pushed it into Daniel's hole.

"No. No. No." The word was barely more than a whisper, repeating unending in the corner of his brain that was still functioning as the rest of him slowly shut down until there was nothing but the rhythmic violation of his body and No.

He was barely aware when it ended, his hands dropped with the heavy weight of the chains, his body shoved into a corner of the tent. Sometime later he became vaguely aware of the quiet, the heavy dark stifling. He stared into it, but all he could see in the shadows was the face of his dead wife and the face of the man who had taken him. Tears leaked from his eyes, grief and pain, shame and humiliation…and the slow burning knowledge that this…this was real.

The walled city of Abydos was a wavering mirage on the horizon, dancing in the heat of the late morning like a taunt as he slowed his vehicle to approach the sprawling camp, picking up the handset to his radio to call out to the car behind him. "This is O'Neill, I'm going to stop to check this out. You boys keep to the schedule."

"You sure about that, General? Raiders aren't known for being friendly."

"Stop calling me that, I'm retired." Jack groused. "I'll be fine. I'm familiar with this particular group of criminals."

"We'll wait just outside the walls. Call us if you need us."

"Roger that." He stopped, glancing aside at the packet of paperwork that was his sole reason for having to be out in the badlands, important documents that needed to be couriered to Chulak and back, but couldn't be trusted to regular, still on the government payroll type people. And he had thought he'd gotten away from the politics.

He sighed and turned the engine off, pausing to tuck the paperwork into the lock box under the passenger seat and pull out his gun. He checked the load and opened the door to the truck, stepping out into the already stifling heat of the day and tucking the gun into the back of his pants before pulling his shirt over it.

Sam wouldn't be happy that he stopped for the very nasty, very bad, but sometimes useful crew of people. As expected, the front of the camp boasted a market of sorts, tables under an awning with the assorted haul of the horde spread out. They were likely waiting for buyers from the city, those that could get out on various passes and smuggle contraband in to sell, or keep for themselves.

And, as expected, a familiar face was running the show, his grin widening as Jack approached. "I heard you were off in Chulak handling sensitive paper." Kawalsky said as Jack held out his hand.

"And I heard you were burned alive in a mound of fire ants. Can't all of us be right." Jack grinned though. They had been friends once, soldiers that bled together. Jack had moved up the chain of command, Kawalsky had chosen to buck it and landed himself on a list of exiles. "Anything worth looking at?"

He shrugged and stepped back under the shade of the canopy, gesturing at a pile of engine parts. "Salvaged a truck a few weeks back. Got some parts left you might use. Oh, maybe a little something for Dr. Carter?" He waggled his eyebrows and pointed to a table boasting an array of lingerie and assorted leather tools.

Jack smirked and poked through them, looking up as one of the rougher men in the horde dragged a slave from behind the truck supporting the canopy, dropping him to his knees. The man was in a bad way, dust and dirt clung to the sweat that covered his sunburnt skin, but Jack could see the bruises and welts and blood under it. His hands were bound in iron cuffs that were too tight and the iron collar around his neck was weighted down with a ball that had to weigh twenty pounds or more, pulling his head down.

Jack gestured at him with his chin. "What's his story?"

Kawalsky made a face. "Picked him up in what's left of Argos."

Jack frowned at him. "What happened to Argos?"

"Garrak figures it must have been Helios. They've been posturing lately, raiding anything in a day's journey, demanding tribute for protection. When we got there it was leveled. He was the only living thing for miles."

"So….you collared him?" Jack asked, watching Kawalsky squirm.

"Ba'al found him." Kawalsky said, as if that answered everything.

It certainly explained the slave's condition. "He got a name?"

"No one's asked."

Jack nodded and moved to stand in front of him. The man was trembling, flinching as Jack moved his hand, but he didn't fight when Jack cupped that hand to his chin and tilted his head up. Blood ran down the right side of his head, from what he could tell, it was from a wound just above his temple. His lip was split, his skin sunburnt to the point of blistering. The left eye was swollen and black and purple. His right rolled and fought to focus, but it was obvious he was drugged.

"You selling?"

"Netan is coming out to take him."

Jack made a face and shook his head. "That asshole? He won't pay you half what you want and chances are this slave will end up dead before he sells, which you know Netan will take out on you next time."

"What, you want him?" Kawalsky asked with a smirk.

"Well, Sam has been talking about needing some help around the house." Jack said. Forget that it was insane, he'd be lucky to keep the man alive long enough to smuggle him into the city…and when Sam found out he was undocumented, she would go ballistic. He looked down at the man's face, at his moving lips.

They barely moved, but Jack could feel what they said in his stomach. "Help me."

"Look, I'll pay you what you'd get if he was legal and sold at market. Give Ba'al what Netan would have given you. Keep the rest." Jack said quietly, leaning in so that only Kawalsky would hear him. "And throw in those leather cuffs."

Kawalsky starred at him for a minute like he was crazy, but then he grinned. "Yeah, okay. You got it on you?"

"Assuming you'll take state paper." Jack pulled his wallet out and fished out the money. "You're lucky I didn't get sucked into a poker game with Teal'c while I was in Chulak. " He shoved the wad of paper at Kowalski. "Cut that ball off him." He grabbed the cuffs off the table and hooked them through his belt while Kowlaski unhooked the heavy weight.

"Not sure he's gonna be walking out to your truck."

Jack nodded and put his hands under the man's shoulders, pulling him up to his feet. "Okay, buddy. Just relax and we'll get you out of here." He hefted him into a fireman's carry and headed for the truck, pulling down the tail gate and setting his new slave down as gently as he could before climbing up into the bed and tugging the rolled up tarp away from the wall of the cab. He moved the man then, resting him tight to the cab and squatting beside him. "Now, I need you to be very still and very quiet while we get into the city. If you can do that, I promise you, we will get you cleaned up and your injuries cared for, okay?"

His only response was closing his one eye. Jack took that as a sign of cooperation and moved the tarp back, unrolling enough of it to tuck between him and the cab and shoving the rest of it tight against his slack body. As long as the guards on the gate were guys who knew him, he should be fine.

Sam was going to kill him. That money was meant for other things. But once she saw the condition he was in, she'd be too focused on getting him healthy again to take it out too much on Jack. He approached the gate, waving at his escort that had in fact waited for him. They went ahead and he rolled slowly up to the gate, offering up his ID card and travel documents as Major Evans approached his window.

"Hell of a day to be out in the badlands, General."

"Hundred and twenty and it isn't even noon." Jack agreed. "And I'm retired."

"You'll always be General to us, sir. Can I get your hand print?"

Jack held out his hand for the scanner and waited while it verified his identity and the information in the documents. Evans smiled and handed back the paperwork. "You have a good day sir, get out of this heat."

He smiled and nodded. "That's where I'm headed, Major. Have a good one."

He rolled through the open gate and waved out his window to his escort, picking up the radio. "Thanks for the company boys. Tell Landry not to be late for the drop." He turned right as they continued on toward the center of the city. He skirted around the outer circle before turning in toward the residential quarter where he and Dr. Samantha Carter shared a pretty comfortable living space, complete with an indoor pool and central air.

He pressed the remote for the gate and drove into the garage, parking quickly and barely waiting for the heavy door to close before he was climbing into the back and pulling the tarp away. The slave was unconscious and unresponsive, his pulse barely detectible at his wrist. "Damnit. SAM!" He bellowed the name, knowing she was home, knowing the air vent over the door into the house would carry to at least the kitchen. "Sam, I need you in the garage, now!"

It took far too long before the door opened and she was scowling at him. "What on earth--" She stopped as Jack stood, the slack body in his arms. "Who….no, just, get him in here. Janet, bring your bag."

"Frasier's here?" Jack asked, climbing down and moving past her into the cool interior. "Where?"

Sam moved around him and went to the low coffee table, clearing off a book and his glasses. "We were having lunch." Sam helped him lower the man down, her eyes skipping over his injuries, the collar and back up at Jack with a tone he understood very well.

Janet appeared, her face clouded until she saw the body. "Who is he?" She shook her head. "No, don't tell me. What happened to him?"

"Raiders." Jack said, his voice tight. Now that he wasn't concerned with getting stabbed in the gut or caught by the city guard, he let himself look at his purchase a little more objectively. He wore nothing but a dirty and bloodied pair of underwear, and the physical trauma was extensive. Janet was cutting the underwear off, exposing a festering wound that looked like it had started as road rash, the worst of it on his hip, but it extended down to his knee, or it met up with other wounds. It was hard to tell the difference under the dirt.

"Okay, we need to get him cleaned up so I can see the actual damage." Janet said, looking up at Jack. "I'm going to need more light, a lot of clean water…probably more than I have in my bag for bandages and meds. You're going to have to run to my office." She pulled a pad out of her bag and scribbled down a list. "Give this to Jaime at the front desk. Tell her I need it immediately."

Jack took the page with a nod, racing back out to the truck for the quick run to the hospital where Janet worked. It bridged the fairly comfortable neighborhood where they lived and one of the city's slums, which made for an interesting mix of clientele. Jack parked and ran inside, pounding down the hall toward the Emergency Room, then to the first set of offices nearby. "Doc Frasier sent me for some supplies she needs immediately." Jack handed the list to the receptionist and hoped she would just mind her business.

She frowned at the list, then back at him. "Is everything okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, just the heat, you know. Makes people crazy. Kids…" He grimaced and huffed. "Could you just….get on with it? She was pretty loud about it being quick."

She nodded and disappeared into the office behind her.

Jack paced the waiting room, watching the clock tick minutes off, his eyes darting to the door as if at any second he was going to be found out.

"Okay, that should be everything."

He practically jumped at the desk and took the box, racing out to the truck and back home. By the time he got there, he was surprised how much they had already done. A basin of water sat beside each of them on the floor, dirty and the iron manacles from his wrists lay on the floor behind Janet. Bandages, bloody and filthy lay all around them and Janet's head was bent very low over his crotch, her hands moving in very small movements.

"Almost." Sam breathed, glancing up at him as he set the box down. Jack blanched as he realized what Janet was doing, slowly working at rough rope that had been wound tightly around his cock and balls, to the point that they were purple and swollen. Jack looked away, pacing to the kitchen door and back. "Just a little…there."

Janet sighed in relief and sat back, dropping the rope beside her. "Okay. Let's get him someplace more comfortable and I'll finish working on these wounds."

"Jack." Sam called him over as they stood. "Let's put him in the maid's quarters for now."

It was a polite euphemism. It was little more than a closet with a cot and a toilet and a door that could be locked from the outside. Jack got his hands under the slave's knees and shoulders and lifted him, following Sam down the hall and into the room.

"I'll get more light." Sam said as Janet joined them.

"Do you know what all they did to him?" Janet asked, sitting on the cot beside him.

"No, I…they were going to sell him to Netan. He'd be dead in less than a day."

"Well, I'm not promising you he's going to live any longer than that here." Janet said, her face grim. "It's not good."

Sam returned with the floor lamp from their bedroom, plugging it in near the bed. "I'm going to be a while." Janet offered, rummaging through the box.

"Let us know if you need anything." Sam grabbed his arm and dragged him out into the hallway. "Do you want to tell me what in the hell you were thinking?"

He pulled his arm free. "I was thinking that you keep saying how we could do with a…" He gestured ineffectively.

"So you buy some illegal, broken, half dead Raider cast off?" Her face was red and anger rolled off of her.

"Come on, Sam."

"No, Jack. It's obvious they kidnapped him from somewhere, and for fuck's sake I hope it wasn't another city-state, because that would just be the icing on this particular cake."

"Kawalsky said--"

"Kawalsky? I should have known. I thought you were going to stop talking to him."

"That's not fair. He's been my friend for a long time."

"And now he rides with murderers and rapists, Jack."

"Yeah, well, it's not like he was given a lot of choice." Jack countered. He shook his head. He didn't want to have this argument again. "He said that they picked this guy up in Argos. The place was leveled."

"And his wife?"

Jack frowned at her. "What?"

"Until recently he was wearing a wedding ring."

"The Raiders probably took it. Kawalsky said she was dead."

"I'm hearing a lot of 'he said' in here and no real information." Sam pinched the bridge of her nose. "What are we supposed to do with him now? If he lives that is."

"You did say you wanted someone." Jack offered gently.

"Yeah, someone legal and trained, not broken and undocumented and did I mention, illegal?"

"Would you calm down?" Jack crossed his arms and looked at her, letting his anger drain and his eyes soften. "I couldn't leave him there, Sam. It's a five day trip down from Argos. They did that to him in five days."

Her eyes closed and she looked away. "If he gets found here…if anyone figures out…"

"So we keep it quiet." She wasn't wrong about the danger. The slave trade in Argos wasn't quite as regulated as it was in Chulak or some of the other city-states, but violation of the rules were punishable by exile or worse than that, being remanded to slavehood yourself.

"Jack." She sighed and took his hand. "I love that you wanted to…that you tried to save him. I do. But, you do know what happens if this goes wrong? You end up in his position on the auction block, and I end up losing my career, and quite possibly my citizenship."

He leaned across the space separating them and kissed her lightly. "So we don't let it go wrong."

"And who is going to train him?"

He kissed her again, smiling against her lips. "You trained me."

She rolled her eyes at him and pushed him away. "If that were true, we wouldn't even be having this discussion."

Janet appeared in the doorway, peeling gloves off. "Well, he's stable, and I've shot him full of antibiotics. I wanted to give him something for the pain, but there's no telling what drugs they were feeding him, or when his last dose was, so we're going to have to wait a while for that."

Sam nodded, leaning into Jack. "How bad is it?"

Janet sighed . "He's got a pretty massive concussion, probably from a club or bat of some kind. Several of the wounds are infected. I'm particularly concerned about that hip and upper thigh. I pulled out the gravel I could find, but it's a mess in there. Aside from that, I stitched up a couple of the wounds on his back and that laceration on his knee. You'll need to keep an eye on his wrists and neck, the restraints were far too tight and they did a lot of pulling him around by them by the look of it. He had a couple of small burns on his buttocks, but there was one I'm concerned about. It appears electrical in nature. The left shoulder was probably dislocated at some point."

"What about his dick?" Jack asked, shifting uncomfortably as the image came back to him.

Janet sighed. "Should be okay, the color was already almost back to normal. I've got an IV set up, he's severely dehydrated and probably hasn't eaten in days. Soft foods until we know how he's tolerating it. Probably start with broth. Sam, I'll leave the supplies with you."

Sam and Janet headed into the kitchen to go over the medications and Jack moved to lean on the door, watching the rise and fall of the man's chest. If he was honest, he hadn't thought much beyond getting the man out of the hands of those who would just hurt him more, burn through him and leave him to the sun and carrion birds to finish off…or sell him to someone who would do much the same.

In Chulak slavery was so heavily regulated that there were actual training facilities and all slaves sold had to bear the mark of the facility and the registration paperwork included DNA and blood work. In Abydos any idiot with a set of manacles could trade in slaves, and there were no sanctioned training facilities. There were some higher end places that had contracts with the government. They took in voluntary surrenders and those relegated due to debt. But the bulk of the trade happened at the auction house on the square in the same district where cattle and other livestock were sold and butchered.

At least Jack had spared him that. And now…well, provided he survived, he would be stuck in a life he likely never imagined for himself. Jack sighed and turned to go to his bedroom, stripping off the dusty clothes on his way in to shower.

He'd never been fully comfortable with the idea of owning another person, though he knew that the institution served a purpose. Sam had grown up in a house with slaves, and he knew that in her family they had been well treated. And, Jack knew that they could use a hand around the house, and that Sam had a sexual appetite that he couldn't fill on his own. They'd been talking about it in the abstract for a while, leaning toward a trip together to Chulak for the purpose of finding the right person.

And this was the exact opposite of doing that. He was putting their lives on the line for a man he didn't even know. A man who as little as five days ago had been free and living a life in a place without slavery.

Jack would have to console himself with the fact that at least the man was alive.

Something had changed and for a long moment, he couldn't be sure what it was, so he lay perfectly still, listening to the silence around him. He hadn't known silence since he'd last held his wife in his arms. He wasn't alone though, he could feel someone nearby.

Slowly, Daniel opened his eyes, blinking in the bright light. The shadows out of range of the light moved and a woman's face smiled at him. "Easy, you're safe now."

He turned his head, taking in the small room, her clothes, then turning his attention to his body and its assorted bandages. Her hand touched his arm, pulling his attention back. "We nearly lost you a couple of times. But, you're going to be okay."

He was becoming aware of the pain in his body as he came more awake. An IV ran from the wall into his arm, his muscles burned and various injuries began to make themselves known. "Hurts." It was little more than a whisper, his throat still raw from screaming.

She nodded. "I can give you something for the pain, but we wanted to see your beautiful eyes, so we dialed back a bit." She licked her lips and smiled softly. "Can you tell me your name?"

He swallowed and nodded. "Daniel. Daniel Jackson."

"Well, Daniel, you are doing much better than when you came here, but you won't be up to much more than laying here for a while."

He frowned, trying to remember where he was or how he got there. The last thing he remembered clearly was the big man with the dark skin using him as a punching bag. "Where?"

Her eyes danced up to his and held. "You are in Abydos, Daniel. My partner bought you from the Raiders and smuggled you into the city in an effort to save your life."

Bought. Like a slave. He closed his eyes and turned his face away. In Abydos…a city he left when he was seventeen and never intended to return to. A city where he was likely still listed as a traitor.

"Daniel, you're safe here. No one is going to hurt you."

He wasn't sure how much he believed her, not with the pain coursing through his body and the suffocating weight of uncertainty sitting on his chest. She moved and he could feel the thick relief of some drug working into him, letting him withdraw behind the pain and drift in a place where he didn't have to think about anything.

Swirling nightmares of dead bodies and pain shoved him up out of the darkness. He was alone, and the bright light had been removed, replaced with only a soft light high up on the wall. The IV was gone too. There was a plastic cup on the small table beside the bed. He struggled to sit up, wincing as various parts of his body reminded him of his injury. His head was swimming as he got upright, his feet on the floor.

He picked up the cup and sniffed, deciding it must be water. He drained it and set it back on the table before attempting to stand. For a minute he thought it might be the worst idea he'd ever had, but despite pain lancing up from his left knee and right hip, he was standing. He was naked but for the bandages, but standing.

Daniel shuffled slowly toward the door, not surprised to discover it was locked. He was, after all, still a prisoner. He tamped down on the flare of panic and turned back around, making his way back toward the cot.

He felt better than he had the last time he'd been fully aware, the pain reduced, unless he shifted wrong, or touched something he shouldn't, like the bandages on his hip. He gasped and gritted his teeth through the rush of pain.

Behind him the door opened and he turned, one hand dropping to cover his nakedness. The man at the door frowned at him. "You're awake." He leaned out the door and called, "He's awake."

Daniel heard some kind of muffled response and the man smiled. "How you feeling?"

He licked his lips, not sure he should trust his voice so he shrugged.

"Well, you're up and standing. That's something." He frowned again. "You probably shouldn't be up, actually."

He stepped into the room and Daniel shrank back, sitting on the cot as he got closer. The room was too small and his heart was racing. Small spaces had never been his favorite thing. He closed his eyes and breathed through the fear, but it only intensified as memory swirled through him, tight spaces and beatings and Sha're's face. He breathed through it, clenching his fists.

When he opened his eyes again, the man was sitting on a chair and the woman from before was putting a tray beside him on the cot.

Daniel focused his attention on the tray to keep himself from freaking out over the closeness. There was large cup of what smelled like chicken broth and a slice of bread on the tray.

"We got some broth into you before and you kept it down, so we thought we'd try something solid." The woman picked up the plastic cup and smiled. "I'll bring more water."

Daniel lifted a hand toward the tray, stopping when he saw the deep bruises that circled his wrists. The skin was a band of deep, dark black and purple, with mottled reds and blues and yellows nearly two inches wide. He could remember the pain when he'd fallen and the man tormenting him had just dragged him by his wrists until he'd been sure his hands would fall off.

His hand was shaking then when he picked up the mug. He steadied it with his other hand and lifted it, sipping slowly. He could feel the man's eyes and looked up.

"So, Sam tells me your name is Daniel."

He nodded, drinking a little deeper from the cup as his stomach rumbled.

"You don't remember me, do you?"

Daniel squinted at him. There was something familiar that he couldn't quite place, but the woman had said her partner had purchased Daniel and this was probably that partner. "You paid for me." Daniel said softly, his voice better, but hoarse.

He nodded. "I did, and I smuggled you past the city guard." The smile dimmed and he seemed to be trying to judge Daniel's response.

"I'm not a…I'm a teacher." Daniel said, not looking directly at him. "I…history. "

The room was quiet for a minute, Daniel's focus on the broth in the cup while the man watched him. Slowly the man leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "You were a teacher." He said it softly, but firmly, the words cutting into him as surely as any blade. "I need you to understand me, Daniel. The stakes here are very high. I risked my life, Sam's career, not to mention the doctor who treated you, by rescuing you. And that doesn't even take into consideration the money I spent. I know this is not what you want to hear, and I'm sure you're still in shock after all that you've been through, but I need you to be clear on this."

Daniel closed his eyes, wanting to push the words away. He wanted to demand they let him go, that he be returned to his life, to freedom, his home. Except that was all gone. "I just…I just want to go home." Daniel said, his voice cracking around the word home.

The man nodded. "I don't doubt that, but Kawlaski wasn't wrong. The whole place is gone, not a building left standing. Helios bombed the place and sent in a battalion to clean the rest out."

The smell of burning wiring and flesh flooded into his memory, the bodies strewn about the streets, the smoke. He could see Sha're, her belly still full with their unborn child, her empty eyes staring at him, accusing him. He should be dead with her.

The woman came back with the water, setting it on the table. "Jack, Janet is here. Why don't we let him eat."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, okay. Take it slow though, okay Daniel? Don't want you making yourself sick." He stood and crossed to the door. It closed behind them and Daniel heard the lock. He was alone, and locked in a room barely bigger than the closet Sha're had converted into a mini nursery with a bassinette and a changing table.

He focused on drinking the broth, and when it was gone, lifting the bread and breaking it into small pieces to eat. When that was gone, he lifted the water cup and drained it. He started when the door opened again, a different woman coming into the room. "Hello Daniel, I'm Dr. Frasier. I'm going to examine you, see how you're healing."

The woman called Sam came and took the tray and Dr. Frasier set her bag on the cot where it had been. She pulled on latex gloves and turned his head, her gloved fingers prodding at the spot where he'd taken the first blow. He winced and she breathed an apology. "This is going to be sore for a while, but it's healing well." Her hands moved down to his neck, feeling over his glands. "How's your throat?"

"Better." Daniel admitted.

She nodded and her hands moved to his shoulder, bringing back memories of the way fire had exploded in it as he took a blow from a metal pipe while dangling from his wrists from an arm attached to a tall truck. Once he'd been dropped, the joint had gone back into place easily enough, but the pain had lingered.

The doctor moved to a spot on his shoulder blade, running a finger along stitches he hadn't even realized were there. "Very good. We'll be able to take these out in a couple of days. Lay down please, on your stomach."

She peeled bandages off his hip and ass, carefully cleaning the burn wound and the torn up skin from the dragging incident before re-bandaging both. Daniel started when he felt her finger at his hole, but she pressed her other hand to his back to hold him in place, her gloved finger sliding into him on a slick of ointment. She moved the finger around and withdrew it. "Okay, roll over."

His hands fell to cover his dick as he complied, though her first attention was to his knee and the stitches there. She nodded and her gaze moved to his hands. "You were pretty badly bound when I examined you the first time. We had to use a scalpel to pick the rope apart to free you. I'm sure that Jack and Sam want to make sure you're fully functional." She stared at him, waiting for him to respond.

He averted his gaze as he dropped his hands away and she lifted his cock, felt over his balls, nodding to herself. "Have you urinated?"

"What?"

She nodded toward the toilet in the corner. He shook his head. "Not yet."

"You're probably still dehydrated. I'll make sure they bring you more water. All in all, I'm pretty surprised at how well you're doing, considering that four days ago I wasn't sure you'd live this long."

She closed her bag and pulled off her gloves. "Get some rest Daniel, it's the only way you'll keep healing."

He listened to the door close and tried not to feel the walls close in around him. He closed his eyes and pulled himself in to the corner of the cot. The room was too small and seemed to get smaller and smaller and he couldn't breathe. "No." He tried to push the thought away, but it was too late, the memory slammed into him and he was 9 years old again, scared and alone, confused and acting out and punished with the box.

He knitted his fingers behind his head and bent forward, hiding his face in his knees as the fear swelled up inside him. He jumped when he felt hands on his head. "No!" He pulled away, batting at the hand, at the memories battling through his head.

"Hey, Daniel. Stop."

The voice and hands tried to get past Daniel's flailing, but Daniel pushed away, pushing himself off the cot and getting almost to the door before there were more hands. "Please. Please. I can't….I can't…." He couldn't stop the violent shaking in his hands as he pointed to the hallway. "Please."

He was turned and allowed to step out of the room, hands on his elbows, rubbing down his arms. He fought to get his breathing under control, opening his eyes to Sam's face. The doctor was right behind her, a needle in her hand. Daniel shook his head.

"Daniel, I need you to calm down." Sam said.

"I…I'm trying." Daniel gulped in air, shoving the childhood nightmares back behind doors he'd thought sealed forever.

"I can have Doctor Frasier give you a sedative--"

"No. Please." Jack was at the door and the hallway was feeling as small as the room. "Can't breathe….too close."

Sam nodded tightly, her hands moving up to hold his face. "Look at me." It took him three tries to get his eyes to hers. "Okay, I want you to step back three steps." She came with him, nodding. "And turn." She guided him to an opening and the hallway gave way to a sort of living space. "Good, breathe. That's better."

He could feel the doctor and Jack hovering, but there was more room here and there was light. As the panic faded, the pain in his body grew, his hip and knee battling for which would bring him down, until he collapsed to the carpeting.

Sam knelt beside him, watching him until his breathing was better and the trembling of his hands had lessened. "Now, can you tell me what that was about?"

He swallowed and shook his head. "Too small." He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Claustrophobic." Her hand petted over his head, soft fingers running through his hair. It reminded him of Sha're somehow, spilling grief out into his stomach, holding himself as if he could somehow stop the crashing mix of memory and fear, violation and loss. Sobs wracked through him, the physical manifestation of the emotions crashing into one another inside him.

He never felt the prick of the needle, but he felt the rush of the drug, petting over his anguish and lulling him toward sleep.

Sam eased Daniel's head from her lap and stood, more than a little affected by his breakdown. She nodded her thanks to Janet, rubbing her forehead. "Well, that was…" She shook her head and turned to look at Jack who was still watching from the doorway. "And this is your idea of what we need?"

"He's been through a lot." Jack responded, moving to take her in his arms, kissing over her forehead. "It's going to take some time."

"It's going to take a miracle." She sighed into his shoulder. "He's so….broken." She inhaled and stepped back. "You better figure out something for a place for him. If he's claustrophobic, that room isn't going to work."

He nodded, his eyes skipping over her face and down to Daniel on the floor. "I can clear out the guest room for now, install a lock on the door. Something more permanent is going to take some time."

"Let's make sure we're keeping him first." Sam said, though she knew Daniel's pain had cracked through her façade. As much as she wanted to be mad at Jack for bringing this headache into her life, she found herself worried about the slave, protective even. "Go on, he's not going to stay under for long." She sighed as Jack kissed her cheek and moved to go start setting up the guest room. "Thank you," she said to Janet who smiled. "You…you didn't have to do any of this."

"You know me." Janet said, moving away from Daniel's sleeping form. "So, I didn't bring this up before…but since it looks like you're going to keep him…" She bit her lip. "I know someone, he can forge papers."

"Janet!" Sam looked at her friend, a little shocked at the suggestion.

She held up both hands. "Come on, Sam. Where I work? I meet all kinds of people. He does good work. He works in the registration office."

Sam pinched the bridge of her nose. "How good?"

"Good enough to get slaves admitted to the hospital when necessary. Good enough for two undocumented workers from Antar to get married at the Rotunda."

It was tempting. Having some paperwork would reduce their risk, allow them to breathe a little. On the other hand, getting caught with an undocumented slave and forged paperwork would send them both to the auction block, or get them both exiled to the badlands. "Let me think about it?"

Janet nodded and hugged her. "I should get going. The Games are starting, my ER is going to go insane."

"Don't work too hard." Sam said as Janet gathered her bag and headed for the front door.

"That's what the residents are for. I'll call you tomorrow."

Sam sank down onto the couch, her eyes scanning over Daniel. She hadn't really spent any time looking at him beyond helping Janet to stabilize him. Some of the bruising was beginning to fade, though she suspected that the deep color on his wrists and around his neck would take a lot longer to disappear. The marks on his back were beginning to heal, though now she was seeing that under them there were scars, telling her that Daniel was no stranger to physical pain.

There was a story there, a mystery. She wouldn't figure it out until he was better adjusted to the changes in his life and she could start training him. If they ever got to that point.

Daniel licked his lips as the door opened , covering himself out of instinct before forcing his hands away. It had been more than a week since he'd been moved into the new room, a week they'd spent asking him questions and giving him rules, making him understand exactly who he was now.

In the first moments of every morning, as nightmares chased him out of restless sleep, he wished that those Raiders had killed him, left him in the burned out shell of Argos to die…or played their games a little too rough, bleeding out his life into the sands of the badlands.

Then came the shame…shame that he hadn't been there to protect her, shame for what they did to him, what they made him do, shame for how broken he was, shame for the fear that still thrummed through him every time he let himself think about his situation.

Slowly came the reluctant acceptance that he was alive, that these people had saved him, had saved him from a far worse death than the life he now faced.

He didn't like it, this life he had been forced into, but he saw no options…and the woman had made it clear she would punish him for disobedience. He didn't know what that punishment would entail, but he was fairly certain he couldn't take any physical punishment yet, so he fought the desire to rebel and followed the rules.

One of them was that he was now property. Their property. His body belonged to them and he was not allowed to hide any of it without permission.

"Good morning, Daniel."

He inclined his head, hands carefully to his side as he slipped from the bed to his knees. "Good morning, ma'am."

"Very good. Stand please."

She was dressed for work, her uniform spotless. He stood, keeping his eyes averted. "Come to the middle of the floor."

He took the couple of steps, shivering as her hand touched his shoulder. "Arms out."

This too was becoming familiar. She examined him every day, touched him, found a mark on his body and asked him what had happened to cause the mark. Her hand moved over his chest before she ducked under his outstretched arm. Her fingers traced the still healing line where the doctor had stitched a nasty cut from a Raider's knife, then down further, along his spine to a spot several inches above his ass.

She traced over a scar, one that was far older than the others, pressed into it. "Tell me about this one."

He pressed his lips together and cleared his throat as it constricted around the memory. This was the first time she'd picked a scar from before the brutal events that brought him here. "I…was punished."

"By whom?" she asked, her voice neutral.

He inhaled and shook his head, not wanting to answer.

"Daniel?" He could feel her eyes, even with her behind him. They were demanding and he knew he would have to answer.

"The man who kept me after my parents died."

Her fingers left the scar and her whole hand caressed over his ass, sweeping down through his crack and back up before she was moving back around him. Her hands swept down his sides until one of them slid around his cock. She held it and looked him in the eye. "Why were you punished?"

He wanted to look away, but he was standing there with his cock in her hands and she was demanding an answer and somehow he knew she would only take the truth. "I lost a book."

There was a slight crinkle in her eye. "What were you hit with?"

"Belt." He wanted to close his eyes, hide from the memory of being bent over the kitchen table, his pants pooled at his feet, the belt coming down with a force that ripped his skin.

"How many times?" Her eyes didn't waver, pinning him to the moment, to this present moment where he belonged to her and she was holding his cock as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Five." Somehow it was easier with her looking at him that way, the memory didn't swell up, didn't fill his head, sabotage him.

"How old were you?"

"Ten." He pressed his lips together and hoped that was the end of the question.

She nodded, stroking his cock twice before releasing it. "Very good, Daniel. Now, how are you feeling?"

"Still a little stiff, but better."

"How would you feel about getting some exercise today?"

Anything would be better than spending another day alone in this room. "If you feel I'm ready, ma'am."

Her smile was stunning. "Come on then, Jack is waiting for you. He'll get you started. He has a few small chores for you today as well. Now that you're feeling better, we want to start getting you acclimated."

He followed her to the door, a little hesitantly. She led him down a hallway and into a kitchen, then through another door and down a flight of stairs. Jack was waiting for them there, in what amounted to a small gym, complete with weights and a treadmill and other equipment Daniel was unfamiliar with.

Sam kissed Jack softly. "Not too hard. He's still healing."

"No worries. A lot of stretching, a little sweating."

"Good. And plenty of water."

"Go on, get to work before you're late. We'll be fine." As she left, Jack pointed to a bench on one side of the room. "Sweat pants, socks, sneakers. Get dressed." He hadn't had clothes since waking up in that room after he'd been bought, and before that all the Raiders let him keep was his underwear, though they were little protection from the brutality. He dressed slowly, his fingers running over the soft cotton.

An hour later, Daniel was sweating as he sat on the bench to pull the sneakers off, shaking a little at the exertion of the last hour after so long doing nothing but sitting. "Good work. Strip down and get cleaned up."

Jack pointed to a door behind the treadmill, which Daniel assumed was the bathroom. He dropped the sweat pants and padded to the door. It wasn't the biggest bathroom, but the idea of a shower after nearly two weeks of sponge baths and a week of dirt and sweat and come and blood.He leaned in and started the water, testing it before stepping in. He closed his eyes as the water spilled over him, relishing the heat. He almost felt normal as he poured shampoo into his hand and washed his hair. Almost.

All too soon though, he was done washing himself and the water was beginning to run cold. Reluctantly, he turned the water off and stepped out onto the mat. He was still drying himself when Jack peered in the open door. "Done?"

Daniel nodded, scrubbing at his hair with the towel before hanging it on the hook he'd taken it from. Jack led him back upstairs and into the kitchen. "So Sam thinks it's time you start doing what you're able to, and since it means I don't have to do those things, I'm in agreement."

Daniel stiffened a little, unsure of Jack's meaning. Jack pointed toward the sink. "So, think you can manage washing the breakfast dishes while I work on this paperwork?"

He hoped the level of his relief didn't show on his face. "I can do that." Daniel went to the sink and started running water. There weren't many dishes. A couple of plates and forks, two coffee mugs, a frying pan. When he was done, he turned to find Jack, glasses on the end of his nose, pen in one hand and a stack of papers at the other, sitting at the small kitchen table.

He was about to say something when the doorbell rang and Jack frowned, putting the things in his hands down as he stood. "Go to your room and close the door."

Daniel nodded and did as he was told, though he hovered at the door, not fully closing it, and listening as Jack greeted someone. "Wasn't expecting you." Jack said, the sound coming down the hallway, giving Daniel the impression that Jack was looking to be sure he'd followed instructions.

"The senator asked me to come see you personally."

Daniel's entire body froze, the voice familiar. He eased the door open slightly to hear better.

"I told the senator I wasn't interested." Jack said.

"I'm aware of that. He says I should persuade you."

Daniel knew the voice, but no. No. It couldn't be. The coincidence was just too absurd.

"General Sumner, I doubt there is anything you can say or do to persuade me to come back to the military."

Daniel closed the door and leaned against it. No. He refused to believe it. He covered his ears and moved away from the door, pacing toward his bed, then back. Jack had said General Sumner. He'd been Colonel Sumner last Daniel knew, but admittedly, that had been a long time ago.

He heard footsteps coming down the hall and turned toward the door. "He's gone, you can come out."

Daniel exhaled and tried to put Sumner and the past back in the closet as the door opened. Jack looked at him and almost looked like he was going to ask a question, but he looked away instead. "Laundry's next. You up for that?"