Author's Note: Hi! Loved all the reviews! You're doing good with that. Just a couple more to make it an even number. Think you guys could do that?

Oh well, it doesn't matter. What does it that… this is the last chapter. Everyone cry, it's ok. I'll wait. *pauses for a few minutes* Feel better, that's good. Now R/R and tell me how you like the ending. I know you will.

Summary: Jack is continually pestered by 'George' while something is going terribly wrong for the aliens that have been keeping them in their dream state. How will that effect SG-1?



Chapter Seven:

The Unknown


When Jack awoke, he found himself laying in the middle of his dark cell. It was completely dark and empty and had no padded walls or floors and… was more confusing. He had begun to think it might have been possible but now… it still could. What if he was delusional? Then maybe he was still in the white padded room. Or, if he was delusional, maybe he wasn't in the dark cell or the padded room. Maybe he was at the SGC and didn't know it.

Bringing his hands from behind his back, he found that he was no longer garbed in the straight jacket but black pants and a matching long sleeved shirt. Thinking that was a definite improvement, he ran a hand over his face. Then he sighed, realizing the futility of his situation.

Knowing what, most likely, would happen within a few minutes or so, Jack waited for the door to open to reveal George. Watching the door patiently, he knew it would open. At least, it had the last four times, he just hoped it wouldn't be a nurse giving him the same medicine as the last time. That had severely worsened his ability to keep- what he believed to be- fact and fiction separate.

When the door finally opened, he saw that the lighting was still rather dark: as if it was dawn and just becoming mourning. Then, the familiar shadow blocked out the little light coming from the darkened area.

"Well, good afternoon, Jack. How was your night? Good I assume," George's powerful and dominate voice inquired from his prey as he stepped inside and took his usual black seat.

Looking him over, Jack saw that he had gone back to wearing his Police uniform. "What? Tired of playing doctor? Or did you just not like the white room?"

"What are you talking about, Jack. What white room?" George asked, his voice impassive.

"You know, the room I was transferred to the other day," Jack told him, assuming that he'd deny it.

"Jack, you've only been here for a night. You were barely even conscious last night. And what is it with this doctor comment, like I told you, I'm a Police officer." George looked at him, false concern in his eyes.

Jack looked at him. He couldn't believe that he had only been there for one night, he knew that he had been awake more than one- maybe two- days. They were just trying to confuse him: that was it. He just needed to remember and keep his head on straight… but that was so hard. He couldn't think, not with the drugs and not with the things they were saying. It was too much to keep track of.

"No, no I've been here longer than that," Jack insisted, his only true defense.

"I'm afraid not, Jack. It's only been a year, Jack."

For a moment, Jack stopped. He tried to think of why that sounded wrong. But it was too hard to think, to hard to deduct and figure out things. He just wanted to get a good sleep and be with Sam.

Then it hit him. "No, you said a night. Not a year," Jack slurred.

"I never said that, Jack. Please, try to focus. You're just getting yourself all upset," George told him.

"What are you talking about? What do I need to focus on?" Jack asked, lamely. He didn't care about that, he just wanted to leave.

"Your confession, of course," George stated matter-o-factly.

"What confession?"

"Of the murder of Mr. Thomson. Please, Jack, you really need to stay focused on what we've been doing."

"But I haven't confessed! I haven't killed anyone!"

"Now, Jack. We talked about this. You can't be getting all upset or I'll have to get someone to give you an injection," George warned him.

"No, don't do that."

"I'm afraid I have to." George stood up and reached into his pocket. Pulling out a large syringe, he tapped it and prepared it for Jack just like he had seen the blonde man do repeatedly.

"Wait, I thought you said you might have to get someone," Jack complained.

"No, Jack. I said I'd have to do it myself. See, you haven't been paying attention, have you." With a final step, George jabbed the needle into Jack's arm and injected the medication almost immediately; Jack felt the effects of the invading drug.

Just like in the padded room, Jack began to feel like he was floating and his vision blurred. Rapidly, his focus slipped and his mind seemed to slow everything down to the point it looked closed to having stopped completely.

"There, Jack. Better?" George said, looking at him with an oddly impassive face. Jack tried to tell the nerves in his neck to shake his head, but, like the day before, it didn't work. His head merely bobbed on his chest and hung useless.

"As I was saying, we need to iron out some parts of your confession," George told him. Pulling out a large envelope from his mysterious briefcase, he said, "Here it says that you willingly stabbed Mr. Darren five times in the chest. Now-"

"Wait," Jack said, his voice whispered and hoarse.

"What, Jack?"

"You said his name was Thomson, not Darren."

"No, Jack. You killed a Mr. Darren. Like I said, Jack, you must pay careful attention to details. It won't do you any good not to. Now," George told him before looking down at his watch. "I believe it is time for you to go to bed and for me to leave. Good night, Jack."

With that, George stood, his briefcase in hand, and retreated through the mysterious door. Then, only seconds later, the three usual men walked in and sedating Jack, leaving him in his dark cell to sleep off the drug for however long it was.


"Shut it down! Now!" Alexander shouted at Rachel as he entered the dream room. He stumbled and crashed up against the wall as he tried to reach her and his brother and sister.

"We can't!" Rachel told him, gripping her console as the building continued shaking.

"You must! Otherwise the bombing with fry their brains!" Alexander told her, finally reaching the large console.

"And we wouldn't want that now would we big brother? It was your idea to put them through this even when there was a huge risk of harming the subjects!" Andreievich yelled at his brother over the loud noises coming from outside.

"What are you talking about?" Alexander hissed.

"You! You wanted to make a better world at their expense! And now they might die and it'll be your fault!" Andreievich accused him, pointing a finger at him while his other hand held him steady.

"We all might die! What will that be my fault too?!"

"Both of you stop it! There is no time for this! We must get out of here and to where we belong! Come!" Anastasia scolded her two brothers before grabbing Andreievich's arm and helping him out as Alexander followed them.


Jack's eyes slowly opened to find that he was still in the dark room. He was still wearing the dark clothing and it was still the same old cell. Rolling over onto his back and sitting up, Jack pushed himself back to where the wall was and waited for George to enter the room.

With an almost natural air, the door opened again to reveal a bright light. In that moment, Jack knew it must have been mourning. So, when he saw the familiar figure walk in front of the door, he greeted him with, "Good mourning, George."

"And how do you know it's morning?" George asked him, his voice completely neutral.

"It's simple, there's light out there, it's mourning. No light, it's night," Jack said, his voice slurred with the amount of drugs he knew must be in his system.

"And why would you assume that?" George asked, no curiosity in his voice at all.

Jack thought for a moment. In the beginning, he knew why he had assumed what he assumed. But, at that moment, his head was so screwed up he wasn't sure anymore. Instead of responding, he asked, "What time is it, then?"

"Two in the afternoon," George responded without hesitation as he stepped inside and took his seat.

"So, what are you this time, George? An IC worker about to be sprung? A Police officer? My shrink for the past two-years? Huh? I'd like to know," Jack asked, recalling all of the things he could remember George being.

"You forgot maintenance worker, lawyer, Federal Police officer, airway conductor, nurse, and the many other things you've said I've been, Jack. Don't you remember those?" George asked, again his voice neutral.

But Jack just looked away, raking his brain for when George had been those things. Thinking back, he only recalled the three non-consecutive "days" in the dark cell and the one "day" in the padded room. He didn't remember anything else. Thinking hard and long, Jack couldn't know if anything else had happened. He just could remember and, with all the drugs, he wasn't sure he even knew what he was talking about.

"You see, Jack. All these things you are saying are just making you that much more confused. Just listen to me," George said, but immediately stopped. Jack had been looking away at the time and looked back at George to see why. But George wasn't there. Then, slowly, the entire cell seemed to disintegrate in front of his eyes before…

**Infirmary, Tuesday at 0547 Hours**

Janet continued to sit on her stool and watch the monitors for an endless amount of hours. Her weary eyes stared unseeing at the readouts on the screens. She was tired and needed sleep- something she hadn't had in about twenty-four hours- but she couldn't taken herself away from her friends and the hope that they might wake up at any moment.

"Doctor, why don't you go get some sleep?" One of her nurses recommended. "I'll keep an eye on them for you."

Janet looked up at Kristen, one of the few night shift nurses, and nodded. She was doing them no good. She might as well get some rest and check on them in an hour or so. "Thank-you." Standing, Janet wobbled slightly as she worked her way around the four occupied beds and turned for the door.

But, before she could get far, Janet heard the sounds of four people groggily waking. "Janet?" A voice whispered.

She turned around and saw that all of SG-1 was beginning to wake before Kristen could say anything. "Yes, Jack, I'm right here." Janet walked quickly back to the beds and looked Jack and Sam over while Kristen took Teal'c and Daniel.

Jack let out a groan and said, "What happened?"

"What do you mean, Jack?" Janet asked.

"I wasn't asleep," Jack told her, meaning little to anyone else but plenty to the two of them.

**Briefing Room**

After a couple of hours on their feet and moving around through the SGC, SG-1 quickly remembered almost everything. Unfortunately, most of what they couldn't remember included what happened on their previous mission and how they ended up in their conditions.

Which made the debriefing quite pointless. They could tell General Hammond only what happened immediately upon their arrival: there was a MALP, trees, flowers, and three dirt paths. Not to mention Jack's sarcasm and usual comments about the trees while Daniel began to sneeze because of the flowers.

Sam and Jack sat in the briefing room even after everyone had left. They had avoided eye contact for the entire briefing; still a little embarrassed by what they remembered had happened in their minds.

They hadn't talked for the hours they had been in the SGC but now it seemed unavoidable. "Um, Sam?" Jack asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that had set all around him. "I mean, Carter?"

"Yes, Ja- Sir?" Sam stuttered, correcting herself before she said his name. It almost felt as if it was habit, but it wasn't.

"Everything that happened…it was all in our minds right? Everything we…did, was just…in our minds?" Jack asked, trying to piece together a blanket to cover over what could- and probably would- be a touchy situation for the both of them.

"Yea." Sam looked up at him to see that he was looking at her as well.

"So, nothing that happened…happened? I mean we didn't…really, uh…" Jack stuttered, gesturing between the both of them.

"Right. Right. Nothing really happened. It was…in our minds. All in our minds."

"Which the aliens were controlling."

"Exactly," Sam said, agreeing with him more to make it seem like they had less and less control over the situation. "They made us think we were entirely different people. We didn't know…who we really are."

"Right," Jack said in a distant voice as he looked back at the table. He was somewhat glad that they could at least give this whole thing a good cover story to make it seem better but, in both their hearts, they knew that they had been a lot more control than they wanted to admit.

Then Jack, still looking away, said, "You know, we can keep this between you and me. Everything that went on, that is. No one has to know. Right?"

"Of course. We'll keep it in the room," Sam said. Her reference being the same room that they had been keeping what happened during the Zatarc incident. And all the other times they just wanted to forget about something that had happened between each other that shouldn't have happened at all.

"The rather large room?" Sam smiled her 'Jack' smile when he commented at how many times they had kept 'something in the room', silently or otherwise. Both grew silent again, allowing a more comfortable quiet to surround them.

After a few minutes, Jack grew more serious and asked, "Do you think…things will ever be like that?" They both looked at each other, both knowing what he meant but neither willing to answer. It took a second to realize just how close their faces were. And when they did, they mutually decided one way to answer Jack's question.

"Hey, guys!!" Daniel called from the stairs. "You've got to… Oh, sorry." Daniel quickly apologized and headed for the stairs, seeing that he was not wanted there.

Jack took one last second to gaze into her blue eyes before he broke the only real intimate contact they had and called out to Daniel, "Danny, get back here! What da ya want?!"

"Oh, just thought you wanted to know that Jacob's here," Daniel informed them in a feeble voice for he knew to be cautious of Jack when he had that attitude. Then the two both stood and walked toward the 'gate room, neither looking at each other nor talking as they went.


So, how'd you like the ending? It was a real, true, Stargate writer's ending, don't you think? I thought it would seem a little more realistic (even cute, in some ways). But, please R/R and tell me what you think about it.

Also, at some point in the near future (hopefully), I will be posting a new story called "Me, Myself, and Reality". It's an interesting one involving the quantum mirror. There is some S/J going on, more in its sequel. But, you never know, you might like it. So, keep an eye out.