There are battles they fight as a team and others they fight alone. The patience and determination of an old nemesis brings the fears from their pasts to battle in the present. Can Sam and Jack hold on to everything they have built and save the world again?
Set mostly in 2011. Rating is mostly for explicit language and violence. No Beta, all mistakes are mine. All characters belong to Stargate SG-1 except the Avery family and a few other minor characters. Long complicated story like my other story Where's Anna? Most of it is written, but will be posting slowly after first 5-6.

"Where to now, Colonel?"

"Let me check my map and compass. Oh right, wait... I don't have a fucking clue." He's exhausted, dehydrated and scared. They both are, but they are also both realist and know if they don't find a place to hide soon, they will be chained back up at the prison camp or more likely, just killed for escaping. The thorny scrub has been ripping through his pants and scratching his legs and and he can't even feel his feet any longer. Except for the grunts from the exertion climbing over the rocks, they're both quiet until he makes up his mind to stop fighting instinct and follow the strong and very strange urge up the side of this particular foothill. What do they have to lose?

"You sure." John stops.

"You asked me," the Colonel shrugs.

"We need to find water."

"Yeah," Is all he says, because it's been months since either of them has seen a whole bottle of water or the inside of a gym - and, the lack of both are kicking their butts right now. All he knows for certain is he really can't go much farther before he's going to pass out, but he sure as hell can't go back.

Dawn explodes on the horizon, they both squint with the small addition of light and try not to panic to find cover.

"Is that a cave?" John asks and wobbles over some rocks and through some thick brush toward his goal.

"Be careful." Now he feels cautious, because this is where he has been led, but he still doesn't understand why or to what. He looks around as he follows John up. He has been moving in this direction, drawn towards something for the past hour that he could not begin to explain to a CIA agent or anyone else for that matter. At first, he discounted it, as it was just his desire to get as far away from the prison camp they were running from. Now he wonders what they are moving towards.

Inside the cave is it pitch black. It's barely dawn outside and no light is reaching inside yet. But even the mouth of the cave is a cool balm to their skin and lungs and they are drawn into the comfort and safety it offers. It should be rejuvenating, but the relief, darkness and cool air pull them both to the floor and he knows he's passing out. "Fu-."

Later John is the first to speak, neither sure how long it's been. The relief and exhaustion hit them both so hard, they had passed out, not 10 feet into the cave, "I'm not dead. Colonel?"

He wakes to the feel sand and rock under his face. He's been conscious for a few minutes already, trying to get a sense of where, how and why… "Here." Is all he responds. Still exhausted. As he rolls over, he sees the bright light at the mouth of the cave. It's still too dark to see anything inside, but he has been able to determine the cave faces West.

He pulls himself up and looks out over the plain they traveled earlier. He can barely see the camp in the distance, across the range. "I don't see anyone out there, yet."

He doesn't get a response.

"John?!" He turns back toward the cave. His eyes adjusting to the brightness outside, makes it seem even darker inside again.

"I'm not dead." He repeats.

"That makes two of us. I think."

"Tired." He answers again, faintly.

He knows if they don't find water, they will both die in this cave. The prison kept them severely dehydrated in addition to the torture. He hears a drip and moves along the edge of the wall feeling his way, wondering how deep it is and if they're alone. His eyes aren't adjusting. He feels wetness under his palms and feels a swell of hope for the second time today. He finds the drip and stands under it with his mouth open. "Water." He informs John. It's cool and clean and tastes better than what he's been drinking at the prison camp. It takes a while to get any amount to swallow, but he is desperate, and he'd probably throw it up if he got too much too fast anyway. He wipes his wet hands over his face. He hasn't had a shower in the months since his capture, it feels so good. He wonders how long it's been exactly. Soon John is there with him.

He turns his back to the wall and lets the wetness seep into his shirt and all over his back. "Better than sex."

"I wish I could remember. I am pretty sure that's not quite right." John is starting to feel more like himself.

They both laugh, not with much enthusiasm, but it is nice to feel even a slight sense of joy.

"We need to get deeper, if we have any hope of hiding in here."

"We'll need a light source. Maybe we could burn some of that scrub outside." John suggests.

The Colonel continues to feel along the walls of the cave and stumbles into more than one rock in his nearly bare feet, but pain is a surreal thing after months of torture.

"Did you hear that?" John is either more alert or hallucinating. Both entirely reasonable assumptions.

"What?"

"I think it's a helicopter."

"Help me look for tunnels or a crevice - anything." Abandoning the hope of finding something to burn, they both walk along the walls, feeling for an opening. A cave wall moves, there is a strange sound and then the entire small cave lights up. "Shit!" The both yell.

"Oh my God! What the hell is that? Turn it off before someone sees." John panics.

"I don't know how I-"

First, he looks around for a place to run deeper and hide, but the bright light reveals the limits of their options. He turns back toward the light shielding his eyes. "I have no idea how I turned it on. Look, there's a map or some kind of diagram on the far wall." They both look in squinting against the brightness and try to focus.

"I don't recognize the symbols. It's not Kurdish or Russian. You ever seen anything like it?" John evaluates and asks.

"It looks like an elevator inside a cave to me."

As it occurs to them to try and see if the doors will shut and they can hide in the elevator. Voices register from outside, it's too late. Enemy forces are already upon them.

He is pulled from the mouth of the elevator like room forcefully. "Ahhhhh… not the knees!" he screams after they kick him in the back of the knees. But he covers his face, really hoping they don't kick him in the nose again. That still hurts like a bitch.

The guards look around the room yelling commands nervously in Russian. He catches some of the words, they're scared. Terrified. He wonders if he should be more scared.

There is one calm voice though, the one that raises the hair on the back of his neck… the one that really scares the shit out of him; as it has for nearly four months now. He knows in an instant, he is going back to the prison camp or he's dead. Either way he's never going home.

"What have you found for us, Lt. Colonel O'Neill?" Izmaylov's face appears above him, lit up with an eerie, greenish glow from the elevator-like room, and then he sees the gun. Izmaylov waits to make sure Jack is watching when he moves his aim and shoots John in the face.

Jack feels the weight of failing the other man and then Izmaylov's foot makes contact with Jack's nose and everything goes black again.