Jack glanced at Sam as Ra's First Prime continued to thunder their many dastardly deeds across their gathered audience. Last week she could barely move under her own power after having borne the brunt of the Jaffa's interrogations. Now she stood straight enough for Jack to almost believe she wasn't in pain. Then again, he considered, maybe she wasn't. Pain had a habit of evaporating at the prospect of one's imminent death. The guards had been short-sighted to think that targeting Sam would get them the answers they sought. They'd believed her to be the weak link. One look at her stony expression now could have saved them the trouble.

Jack wished their hands had been left unbound, so that they could reach out and touch, just one last time. He remembered the day the ranks between them vanished into the desert sands. He'd found Sam atop a dune, staring out over the Egyptian sands. Below them the Puddlejumper sat lifelessly, a useless husk. "It was a one-way trip," she whispered without turning her head. What had been her mantra for weeks now emerged as a revelation as she finally absorbed what that meant. "We can't go back."

They would remain in this ancient desert until the end of their days. It was an unfathomable life, as barren as the dunes they would now call home. "C'mere," he said with one word, lifting his arm so that she could turn and press herself into his chest. There were no tears that day, but she shook when he wrapped his arms around her. It was not the first time they'd embraced, but never before had he been allowed to welcome the physical contact. The prospect of a future filled with little more than sand and sun scraped away the flimsy excuses disguising the bond between them, and now Jack pulled her tight against him, sharing her anguish as much as he tried to soothe it.

By then her skin had already been warm with sunburn, and now on the executioner's block Sam's hair was even lighter, her skin darkened by the unrelenting sun. Even exhausted and dirty, she was as strong as she had been that day. She was the last image Jack saw before the staff weapon fired.

Daniel watched among the tightly pressed bodies as Jack's body crumpled, propelled slightly backwards from the impact of the staff blast against his chest. He'd ignored the villagers pleas to stay hidden, remain safe, and wrapped a burnoose around his face until just his eyes showed. He'd watched powerlessly as his friends were filed out onto the raised platform where all could see. Silently, he'd begged them to scan the crowd, to see him and know that he was there, but knew they would not. If their eyes caught on any one person, the Jaffa would know. Their eyes remained dead ahead, until Jack's slid towards Sam, an instant before the executioner fired.

"Shal kek nem ron!" Teal'c called out in the following silence. "We die free!"

His shout was cut short by another staff blast. Daniel saw Sam flinch as her best friend dropped with a heavy thud. When she straightened, she glared at the Jaffa across from her, who now leveled his staff weapon to the ready. Her jaw tightened, an angry tear tracking through the grime crusted on her cheek. It wasn't supposed to end this way, not in any of the possible defeats they'd imagined back in their own time. But she was proud, and fierce. When the order came to fire, the Jaffa hesitated under her stare, just for a moment.

Daniel heard the final whoomp of the staff blast, the short cry that ended as abruptly as it started. He dared not move, or call out, even when his friends', his family's bound corpses were dragged to the platform and dangled before the crowd as an example. They remained there, swinging gently in the desert wind until well into the evening.

Under the cover of darkness, Daniel took one final risk, disobeying the last order his friends had given him- to stay hidden, out of sight. He and his most daring supporters sneaked onto the execution grounds. To their luck they found the Jaffa had assumed the executions had filled their hearts with fear. No human slave would dare come close to the bodies of the damned, let alone abscond with them. It was a simple task to cut down the three unguarded bodies and carry them to a secret rest.

Jack would have been furious with him. Another four people were executed when the theft was discovered, only one of whom was involved with the reclamation of SG-1's remains. But Daniel felt no remorse, and no one was left to accuse him of selfishness. Daniel was alone when he lit the funeral pyres, and he was alone when he threaded three metal dog tags to join his on the chain around his neck.

But when he returned to his tent, a score of villagers were waiting with wide eyes, anticipating his next move. This time, Daniel had none. He would have no different ideas, no solid plans until three strangers showed up wearing his friend's faces. It hurt to see them again, and know that they were not the ones he lost. Still, they gave him exactly what SG-1 had given him in the first place, all those years ago. Hope.