Dr. Janet Fraiser, USAF
The good news; she's not pregnant.
The bad news; Samantha Carter had one hell of an emotional bridge burning behind her. I had to give her an unbelievable amount of credit for taking it so well. SG1's trip to P6X398 had been especially brutal; Sam's experience gruesomely so. As long as I have known Sam, I always thought she was superbly stable and that was the only thing keeping her sane now.
"I'm happy you're trusting me with this." I raised the lamp to position it over her forehead. The gash was relatively deep; an inch long cut that snaked into her hairline. If I didn't know anything about her condition, I'd say she looked like shit. Knowing better, she looked like a beauty queen.
"Just as long as you don't leave a scar, Doc." Sam regarded me with two cool blue eyes as she rested on the bed.
"Oh ye of little faith!" I smiled, adjusting my glasses. Sliding an instrument tray closer I sat in the stool. "Won't even be able to tell once I'm done with you." Sam attempted a small smile. Picking up the lidocaine, I began to numb the area; the poor Captain hissing through clenched teeth as the needle pierced her already tender skin. I injected enough to numb half of her scalp. Setting down the hypo, I waited for it to take effect.
My mind went back to the embarkation room; waiting tensely for a team that was two hours late. Much to my dismay, I don't have any nails left. They all get chewed off in moments such as those. Being in the dark didn't help my ulcer any either. Nobody could tell me their conditions and I hated that. If I didn't know, I couldn't prepare.
Jack appeared first with Daniel at his side. They both looked like they had been dragged by horses across the desert, welts and bruises on every area of their visible bodies. I was beside Daniel in a heartbeat as he slouched to the planking from exhaustion. His glasses were missing and he was sporting a lovely black eye.
"Sam!" He turned toward the gate, struggling against my evaluation. The Colonel gazed empty-eyed at the event horizon, his tension playing through his jaw.
"Daniel, look at me!" I grabbed his head harshly, putting a thumb on an eyelid. Quickly I pulsed my light over his eye, looking for a good response. Satisfied, I checked the other, trying to keep him still as he squirmed from my grasp.
The horizon caught my attention, a sudden flash depositing Teal'c on the grating. My heart sank as I recognized the bundle in his arms. Daniel moaned pitiably, putting his face in his hands.
A less skilled woman would trip if she ran across the grating as fast as I did in those heels, followed by three nurses. Teal'c set her gently down before me and I felt sick to my stomach. I checked her vitals and regained my composure, making a prelim exam for any sign of massive trauma. The ligature bruising around her neck was so bad I didn't want to touch it.
"I need a gurney now!" I looked behind me at the mass of Airmen and leveled my gaze on one. He swallowed harshly. "Meyris, now!" Nodding once, he hustled out. I looked at Daniel briefly, the young man crying as he rocked gently on his knees. O'Neill was still standing to gaze through the empty portal.
"Teal'c, what the hell happened to her?" I returned to Sam, touching the bruises on her face. A nasty gash looked festered, the dried blood mottling her blonde hair. A collarbone was broken as well as a few ribs. The Jaffa's eyes told me what his voice couldn't or wouldn't, the dark orbs drowning in sorrow. It made me want to cry. Thankfully I heard Meyris returning with the gurney.
"Doctor Fraiser." The Airman wheeled it up the planking and held it steady as he collapsed it to the floor.
"Okay Teal'c. On the count of three. Be careful of her shoulder." I took the Captain's pant legs, my fingers finding a new injury with the slickness of blood.
"One, two, three!" Gently as possible we lifted and set her down on the gurney. Expanding it again, we walked down the plank, slowly trailed by Daniel. Glancing over my shoulder, I looked at Jack still standing to stare at the gate.
"Is it bad?" Carter said finally, jarring me from my thoughts. I lifted the squirt bottle of saline I had in my hand to look at her. Tossing the soaked gauze pad into a basin, I picked up a fresh one.
"No, superficial really. But since it's long, I want to make sure it doesn't split open further." I touched it with a betadine soaked cotton swab, wanting to get it thoroughly disinfected. She relaxed a bit.
Sam woke up while we were setting her collarbone, a scream loud enough to bring down the mountain resonating from her mouth. She started crying more from fright and raw nerves than anything else. I had pumped her full of painkillers. Daniel had to be restrained.
"Oh God, Sam!" You could see his heart being pulled from his chest as he watched her writhe.
"Daniel, please!" I called out to him, shooting a pleading look at Teal'c.
"Is she alright?" His voice was strained.
"Not now Daniel." I said curtly, turning back to Sam. She squeezed my arm as I palpated her ribs, her fingers finding their way between muscles, paralyzing it.
"Sam, Sam, Sam! Easy!" I tried to pull myself from her grasp. Relinquishing, she grabbed a fistful of my lab coat.
"Janet!" I heard Daniel from behind me again.
"Teal'c, take him out!" Shouting over my shoulder, I didn't look at them. Thankfully the Jaffa complied, pulling Daniel towards the door. My patient sucked a breath in torment as my fingers pressed against a broken rib. She squirmed.
"Sam!" Daniel said one last time, struggling against Teal'c.
"Daniel, dammit! Now! I'll find you later." Her blue eyes began to roll around, her mouth gasping. Finally I heard the shuffle as the door closed behind me. Lowering my stethoscope to her chest, I was relieved. No tension pneumothorax.
"Sam, are you in pain?" I stroked the top of her head, trying to soothe. She just nodded her head, unable to speak through the tears. I fed her another dose of Demerol through the drip. Lifting the bottom of the shirt I palpated for any internal injuries. Nothing, thank God. Remembering that spot of blood from before, I checked her legs, luckily only finding a small abrasion.
"Get me a sheet." A nurse set one in my hand, and I opened it. Laying it over Sam, I picked up a pair of scissors. She just looked at me wide-eyed as I started at the fabric over her broken collarbone. I cut carefully down her arm to the cuff. Separating the fragments, I gasped and she turned away. Her whole arm was covered with welts from her shoulder down. I didn't think anybody's skin could be that purple.
Oh, Sam, what did they do to you? Cutting down the other sleeve revealed the same picture. Her eyes began to well with tears again and I couldn't imagine what the rest of her looked like. Reaching beneath the sheet, I cut up through the shirt along the buttons. The bruising was prolific. I moved towards the waist of her field pants and she brushed my hands away.
"Sam, what is it?" She was crying again, biting her lip to regain composure. I touched her thigh and she nearly kicked the poor nurse who was taking off her boots. A chill went down my spine. Dropping the scissors into a tray, I moved to her head, touching her hair.
"Sam, did they touch you?" I whispered, looking down into those desperate eyes. They overflowed and the tears began to fall down her cheeks. Numb and sick, I swallowed before asking my next question.
"Did they rape you?" The agony washed over her face like a tidal wave, pounding her under. She started to cry violently, her body spasming in pain and grief as she turned her head towards me.
"Yes." She managed to choke out. I was livid.
"Everybody out now!" I shouted over her body, startling the orderlies and nurses. Gawking at me, they stared in disbelief.
"You heard me, now!" They dropped their instruments and filed out of the door. Trying to breathe, I looked back down at her, smoothing a hand over the crown of her head. I didn't know what to say. Sam's arm encircled mine.
"I'm going to put you on spectral antibiotics." She calmed down a bit as I tried to soothe her. "I also want to give you a preventative pill just in case." Slowly she nodded. I turned to get my supplies, but her grasp on my arm tightened.
"Don't tell.... don't tell the guys." Sam pleaded.
"You mean they don't-"
"No." She looked so small on that table, reduced to a quarter of her former self. Swallowing harshly, I nodded my head.
"Janet?" Sam spoke again from beneath the sheet and I looked up from my neat row of stitches. I was almost done.
"Yeah Sam?" I held the needle and clamp in expectation.
"Can I go after this?"
"I need to keep you here a little bit longer. Make sure you don't have any weird side affects with the antibiotics." She frowned. "Not more than a few hours." With any luck, I'd get her to sleep too. That's what she needed more than anything else. Finishing up the last stitch, I covered them with a few strips of tape. Examining my work, I smiled. No scar! Doctor Janet Fraiser's guarantee!
"Just sit tight and I'll be back." I patted her arm and tucked the blankets around her a bit better.
"Not planning on going anywhere." Closing the door behind me, I rubbed my head and crossed to the med cabinet, seriously wanting to wipe away the last few hours.
"Hi Janet." A soft voice called out from behind me and I spun on a heel. Daniel. He was dressed in a fresh pair of clothes and had showered, his long hair still damp. He looked frighteningly young without the glasses. I smiled at him, watching as he slowly walked into the infirmary, limping slightly from the bruise he had on his hip.
"Hey Daniel." Pulling out the vial I wanted, I tucked it away in my pocket.
"How she doing?" He said it so softly I couldn't bring myself to reprimand him for not waiting. Standing before me, he wrung his hands, a worried look on his face.
"She's making progress. It's going to be sore going with the broken ribs and all." I put the rest of the supplies I needed in the pocket. Somehow I heard his lips open and close as he thought about his next sentence, and I turned. He was red in the face and looking at the floor.
"You okay?" He was mouthing something to himself that I couldn't make out.
"Yeah." Daniel's voice was weak. He raised a shaking hand to his face and rubbed his brow. "Do you think I could see her?" Finally he looked at me and I didn't like what I saw. It looked like he was staring at a ghost from inside out.
"In a moment. Let me finish with her. Take a seat." Graciously I pulled a chair out from behind the computer and angled it toward him. Nodding, he complied.
"Daniel's here. He'd like to see you." Sam looked at me, a small amount of happiness trailing across her face before disappearing into the remote corners again. Her head turned from me. Leaving her to her silence, I pulled the vial and the syringe from my pocket and calculated the dosage.
"I don't want to see him."
"Oh, Sam. You know how much he worries." I definitely didn't like where this was going. She gave up and shook her head. "Okay, I'll tell him five minutes and no more." Pulling close a chair, I sat it next to the bed. Checking over her one more time, I went to the door.
"Daniel?" He looked up from across the room and stood. Slowly he crossed the room, finding it difficult to see without his glasses. The redness had dropped from his face to be replaced by stark whiteness. "Five minutes only please. She needs her rest." Daniel nodded and slipped around me to go through the door. I left them alone, first checking though the blinds to see Sam's reaction. She was pleasantly smiling. Relieved I went to my desk to start the pile of paper work I had been neglecting.
Jack came to see me. I couldn't believe it. He usually avoided me for at least two days after a mission, hoping I'd forget to check on him. The most he was suffering from was a split lip and bruises. Inside, it was a different story.
"General Hammond said you wanted to see me?" Jack rested his hand against my desk, looking over his shoulder at Sam's room. He looked tired. He looked like hell, even for him.
"Yes. I was expecting to see you about five hours ago, but I suppose this is as good as I'm going to get." I smiled, trying to think up some sarcastic remark so I could see his patented 'I'm alright, everything's alright' smile. I don't think I could have gotten it if I suddenly became Steve Martin.
"Is that, um..." He scratched his head in nervousness.
"Sam's room? Yes. Daniel's in with her."
"Oh, okay." Finally turned towards me, a look of hesitation on his face. Something was eating at him. Standing up, I touched his face to look at the lip. He studied me curiously.
"That's not too bad." I touched his scalp, looking for any large goose eggs or cuts. I must have touched something sore on his jaw because he leaned back, brushing away my hands.
"How's the knee, Colonel?"
"Fine." He lied horribly. I had seen him earlier, limping. Anterior cruciate ligament injuries are a constantly aggravating problem if you don't treat it right. P6X398 had beaten on it.
"Jack." His face screwed up in an annoyed look. "At least let me give you some cortisone shots so it doesn't get any more inflamed." A slight movement caught my eye from the side and I saw Daniel vacate Sam's room. He squinted, trying to recognize the two figures across from him. Jack tensed and Daniel limped away, trying to block his face from me. It was a strange display. A loud noise came from Sam's room followed by a muffled cry. Grabbing my attention, I ran across the floor, pushing my shoulder into the door as I turned the handle. I ducked a pillow, watching in silent horror as Sam tossed on the bed. Seeing me, she sat up.
"You told them!" She smacked my hand away when I tried to touch her.
"No I didn't, Sam."
"Yes you did! You should have seen that look on Daniel's face." She slammed a fist down on her thigh and fell back to the mattress. "He knows! How could you?"
"Sam, no I didn't. Maybe he knows." I juggled through the vials in my pocket fingering the Ativan. She was going to hurt herself. Finally she let me closer, staring up at my face in a mix of shame, pain, and anger.
"Please Sam, calm down." I whispered, taking her hand. She squeezed in anger and I thought she'd break my wrist. Slowly her grip began to loosen as the grief overwhelmed her. She cried in silence.
"Why me?" She moaned out after a long time. Suddenly I started crying for her, bending over the bed to hug her. Cuts and scrapes, broken bones and surgeries were no sweat to handle and I did it with confidence. Broken hearts, hopes, and shattered emotions were different and I didn't know where to begin. I would have to do my best to heal her body while MacKenzie did the rest.
"Why me?" I pulled over the chair with my foot and sat down, still holding her hand.
"I can't answer that, Sam. I don't know why. Maybe there isn't a why." She closed her eyes tight and bit her lip. I could see the experiences flash before her eyes. "Right now I think you need a rest and to relax." I pulled the vial from my coat and a new syringe. Opening her eyes, she saw it and shook her head.
"What's that?" She was horrified.
"Just something to help you relax." I measured it out, drawing the med into the syringe.
"No, no!" She shook her head strongly, wiping away the tears quickly as if to show me she was already better. "I'm fine."
"Sam, you need sleep." She was panicking. I injected it into the IV port.
"No, I want to stay awake." She started crying again, whining like a little child.
"Sam, it's okay. You're going to be safe here. I'll be here; the nurses will be here. Daniel, Jack, and Teal'c will be here. Nobody's going to hurt you." I stroked her hair, watching as the sedative slowly took effect. Her eyelids began to droop and she sniffed.
"Secret!" She struggled wanting me to promise.
"Yes. Between you and I. It's okay Sam. It's okay to go to sleep." I whispered to her, her eyes finally staying shut. She inhaled as deeply as her ribs would allow before she sunk into the bed, drifting off. Rubbing my puffy eyes, I set the alarm on my watch so I'd be back in the room before she woke up.
"Can I see her?" Jack had stayed behind, sitting on the extra empty cot. His arms crossed over his chest and he slouched. He looked pale, cold, shaky.
"I gave her a sedative and she's sleeping. She's out of it, but yes, you can see her." I motioned towards the door. Slowly he got out of the cot and walked into the room. Glancing again through the blinds, I watched.
He seemed to hover over her bed for the longest time, just standing in the middle of the room; his arms crossed over his chest again. Finally he walked toward the chair, reaching for her hand as he sat. His dwarfed Sam's small hand; slender fingers covering hers. The package was held like bone china, moving from his cheek to his mouth, to his forehead as he rested his elbows on the mattress next to her. More than likely I imagined tears that welled in those hard eyes and dribbled down his cheek to drop on his hand. His lips moved as he closed his eyes and lowered his forehead to the bed. He finally looked up. I tried to imagine Jack crying, coming out from behind that concrete exterior to show some emotion towards Sam. Relieve some of his grief. But I knew Jack. There was a place deep inside hidden away, impenetrable, that he stuffed his emotions into. It would be neatly filed away and the attempt would be made to forget. Occasionally it would violently erupt, taking out the unexpressed grief in an animal rage against inanimate objects. I wondered how long it would be before he erupted again. I felt numb inside. So cold, I lifted my other arm to surround my body. Jack stood then, and I saw him lean over Sam to place a kiss on her forehead. My heart was thick in my throat; the small little gesture overwhelming. Dropping the blind I backed away, trying to look like I had been doing something other than spying. It was several minutes before he walked out of her door, steeling himself against his emotions again.
"Thanks Doc." He said, a little strained, before walking out of the infirmary. I found the closest chair and sat in it, rubbing my eyes to try and wake up from this nightmare, feeling like I hadn't slept in a week.
*****
Teal'c
On Chu'lak, there is an old proverb; weak is the warrior who leaves his heart defenseless. I believe it is called wearing your heart on your sleeve here. Majority of Earth men do proscribe to this theory, especially ones like O'Neill and Hammond. They see it as a sign of weakness. On Daniel Jackson, however, it is strength.
"Teal'c, you can put me down now." I hardly realized I was still carrying him after the insistence of Dr. Fraiser to remove him from the infirmary. Quickly I set him on his feet, watching as he straightened his clothing. He looked upset.
"Daniel, Captain Carter will recover. Her wounds did not look fatal." Reassuring him was not always an easy task. She had been badly beaten but I had confidence in Doctor Fraiser and in her skill. The look on Carter's face had told me her plight, the relief spreading over her face as O'Neill opened her cell. She collapsed into my arms then and did not regain consciousness until after we had arrived at SGC.
"That's not what I'm worried about, Teal'c. I don't know if she'll be okay inside." He paced on the tiles, a hand at his brow. I watched in mild curiosity, his agitation eating him from within.
"What do you mean, Daniel?" He spun towards me, the look on his pale face a gauge of just how angry he really was. His eyes burned behind the glasses.
"Teal'c, she was raped!" Daniel could not say the words without shivering. Rape. A tactic used to subjugate the female population. One of the Jaffa's many tools. Rage began to boil over in my veins and my mind distanced itself. I remembered her cries, mostly for O'Neill to help her. When she could not hear his replies, she fell silent. He must have taken the look on my face as confusion.
"Yes, rape. You know, they forced her into," he paused to breathe, struggling on the words. "Sexual relations."
"I know the word, Daniel." I knew it too well. His eyes concentrated on mine, and at times like these, I felt he could read my mind. A new level of horror rose to his face as he realized what I meant.
"Teal'c, you can't mean..."
"Yes, Daniel Jackson, I do." He turned from me, unable to comprehend what I was saying.
"But you didn't, right?" I wanted to tell him no, but I knew he deserved the truth.
"Yes, I did." The color drained from his face.
"Oh God!" He leaned into the wall across from me, holding himself up.
"Under service to Apophis, I did many things I regret. That is one of them."
"Teal'c!" He refused to look at me.
"I am not proud of that fact."
"I hope not!" I breathed as deeply as possible. Feeling the Goa'uld larvae inside me stir, I recalled the past.
"Teal'c, round up the women!" My hand clenched the staff tighter, hearing his voice so close. It disgusted me and the anger within began to well in the pit of my stomach.
"Teal'c! Do as I say!" I heard the snap-hiss of the large Serpent mask disengaging to revealing his face. Nodding once I stepped off the dais, walking towards the closest one. Her brown eyes grew as she realized she was chosen, pushing her child behind the folds of her skirts to protect him. She screamed as I grabbed her arm pulling her away from her child, and the boy began to cry, reaching out to his mother. I lowered the staff to his little tan face, and he stepped back. I just wanted to scare the boy, never to hurt him.
"Run, Tathule! Run!" She screamed, reaching for the staff to draw the weapon away from the small child. He ran when I was distracted, but not nearly fast enough. A ribbon of energy from Apophis' hand leveled him to the ground in a heap, his body skidding across the smooth floor. The mother screamed at my side, desperately beating my armor for release so she could protect her son. It was no use. Apophis dragged the boy to his mother like a toy, holding him up by the neck of his tunic. Before her disbelieving eyes, he killed the child, pressing his palm to the small forehead. In a flow of energy it was over, and Apophis dropped his lifeless body to the ground, a queer smile crossing his lips. Overwhelmed, she passed out in my arms.
I hated him deeply. I thought of Rya'c and Drey-Auc, and how easily this mother and child could have been them. Clutching her tightly, I looked down at the child, seeing my own son's face. The thought choked my throat so I could hardly breathe. A strange calmness had formed over the little face. Death held promises for these people; the promise that they would never be subject to Apophis' whimsy again.
"Bring her, Teal'c." The other guards pulled screaming women out of the crowd to follow behind me. I carried the mother like my burden, giving one last look at her son before I stepped around him.
Sometimes he tested your loyalties by making you perform atrocities. Tested just how eager you were to please him. I was First Prime and a perfect target. The poor women were thrown into a guarded tent and the Goa'uld within him thought of a new game. Flexing the ribbon device around his hand, he pointed to me, smiling.
"Take whichever you wish, Teal'c." He trailed his hand across his body, motioning to the crying women. If my mask were down, I would have looked horrified. The boy's mother was beginning to regain consciousness, her body lying near my feet. I grabbed her arm and pulled her up, propping her body against mine. A strange smile crossed his face, as if agreeing on my choice.
"Teal'c he didn't force you to do it, did he?" Daniel brought me back to the present and I followed him down the corridor.
"The Serpent Guard were encouraged to take advantage of the opportunities. I did not wish to disgrace my marriage vows."
"Weren't you afraid of getting caught?" He turned towards me finally.
"Yes, but it was a necessary risk."
I propped her body in a chair, trying to make her as comfortable as possible, and knelt down in front of her. She was very beautiful, her tan skin smooth over a long face with wide lips and dark lashes. Slowly her brown eyes opened, focusing in on my Serpent mask. With a start, she sat up and cursed, almost tipping the chair over.
"Please, I will not hurt you." I held out my hand, trying to calm her. Looking with those sorrowful eyes, she studied me, and her hand clutched a necklace. I raised my hand to my helmet, unlatching the clasps so I could reveal my face to her. She seemed almost shocked that I was man and for a long time her eyes studied the gold crest on my forehead.
"What is your name?" Her hand moved to the next bead on the necklace, twisting it about the twine.
"Katrisa." Her voice was soft, scared, and finally she looked into my eyes.
"Katrisa, I am sorry about your son." A flood of emotion washed over her face, the reality sinking into her body. "I did not believe Apophis would kill him."
"Tathule." She whispered his name, the tears beginning to spill out of her eyes. Katrisa looked around her, her eyes only resting on the tent walls, the doorway, and myself. She seemed to succumb to her fate, and I was not sure if she realized what I was supposed to do to her.
"I do not wish to hurt you." I told her again, reaching for the soft fabric covering her bodice. Recoiling, she tried to lean back in to the chair as far as she could away from my hand. My fingers grasped at the fabric and pulled, tearing it. She shrieked and tried to push me away, kicking her feet. Quickly standing, I restrained her, pressing her shoulders into the chair.
"Please. It is not what you think." Katrisa began to sob.
"Please, don't. Please, I beg you."
"Silence, woman. I said I was not going to hurt you." I jostled her arms, trying to make her understand. She blankly looked up at me, her mouth opening in shock. "I simply wish to make it look like I have assaulted you." My hand traveled down a slim waist to her skirt and tore a long hole with the edge of my armor. Trembling, she watched in fear. She didn't look quite disheveled enough yet.
Her face turned away as my hand raised to it, breathing deeply to prepare for a strike. My hand looped around the back of her head and pulled out the ties for her hair, layering it down on her shoulders. Katrisa's face blended into Drey-Auc's and my heart sank.
"Teal'c what happened to them? The women I mean?" Absently Daniel was leading us to the mess hall, more than likely the result of needing a cup of coffee. I have never been able to comprehend his need for stimulants; he seemed to have a natural energy from within.
"I tried my best to protect them from the others. It did not always happen as so."
"Oh."
"Daniel, I tried. If I could manage to get them away from Apophis and the others I did so." He looked up at me, the look on his face saying that he tried to believe me.
It was not the case this time. Katrisa finally understood I was sparing her from the humiliation, the disgrace, and the pain. Losing her child was enough. I led her back to Apophis, my hand resting on her shoulder.
"Do not betray me or I will have to act accordingly." I took a fist full of her hair and she cowered.
"Yes." She made a fabulous display, skidding across the floor as I threw her to into the tent, and Apophis smiled, obviously pleased. She sobbed violently, being comforted by the other women. Apophis turned towards Shak'l. The next in command received his choice.
For a long time I suspected Shak'l of knowing my deceit. He obeyed my orders only because Apophis wished it. His eyes held a different realization; that I was not the Jaffa I appeared to be. It seemed almost a tradition to take your superior's rank as soon as possible. Shak'l was one rank below me. He wanted First Prime so badly he could taste it, and wanted to prove my disloyalty to Apophis any way he could.
His eyes held mine as he crouched over the woman, searching for any sign of betrayal. It was all I could do to refrain from giving him the satisfaction as he picked her up by the hair. She screamed and those brown eyes begged me for help.
"I believe she still has too many clothes on. I am sure you can agree, Teal'c. I wish to have the pleasure of seeing all of her!" He spun her around so many times she was disoriented. Shak'l ripped her outer clothes off, watching in amusement as she slumped to the floor, her head swimming. Apophis looked on in shock, Shak'l's behavior appealing to him. I felt sick. Those eyes pleaded with me again and I remained motionless as Shak'l tortured her relentlessly, finally doing what I could not. She screamed once more, but never betrayed me.
"I can't understand how anybody could do that. It's just-" Daniel could not find the words to express his disgust. He set down his mug and rubbed his brow. We had been separated from her and placed in our own cells. It seemed that no matter how loud we shouted to her, she could not hear us. I could hear the others in their cells; O'Neill swearing at his inability to act upon her wishes and Daniel crying out with such rage that I have never seen from him.
"Daniel, you do not wish to understand." Finding the logic behind such atrocities could destroy a man, especially one of Daniel's fragility when it came to matters of the soul. He searched for the truth in everything and I knew he would not rest until he found the answers he sought.
"It is a power game. It has been used for generations as a domination tool by the weak to prove that they are greater than something else. Eventually it becomes an accepted practice."
"Still doesn't mean it's right, Teal'c." We sat together in the empty mess hall, contemplating the nature of man and the nature of the beast within.
"You are correct, Daniel." I thought of Katrisa those years prior. I wondered how she was now, whether she had started a new family. The little boy came to my mind then and I was relieved. Relieved to know that he did not live to see his mother suffer.
*****
Colonel Jack O'Neill, USAF
Colonel! Please! Carter? What the...? Where are you Captain? So freaking dark I can't see a thing. Could do without the humidity too. It's like a sauna in here!
Oh God, Colonel! Carter, I'm kinda tied up right at the moment. Get there as soon as I can. Christ, could they tie me any tighter? Gotta get this sweat out of my eyes. Maybe if I pull and move my wrists...
Colonel! Oh Jesus! Carter, I'm coming! Ow, fuck! Okay don't twist your wrist so much. What the hell are they doing to her? Carter, hang on!
Jack! Oh please, help me! Jack! Oh please tell me that isn't her screaming! Aggh! Come on you sonofabitch, break! Dammit O'Neill, pull! Pull you fucker! Sam, I'm coming, hold on!
Jack...oh God no! Jack! Sam! Sam! My shoulders! Why won't this break? There's no traction on this floor. My fucking feet are slipping. Oh hell!
Jack, please! Oh God, Sam, I can't! The ropes are too strong. Sam! Sam, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...so sorry!
I hate dreams like that. You wake up in a pool of your own sweat with your heart pounding so loudly you can't hear your own screams. It really is just as painful the first time around. Sitting up in bed, I wiped the inch of sweat from my face and attempted to relax. Easier said than done, as usual. Oh God, did I ever know what she felt like. Abandoned with the only chance of surviving in your own ability to play the games.
Covert ops were always dangerous. 2IC of a 55th Special Operations team led by Colonel Frank Cromwell sent on a reconn mission during the Gulf War. Wounded in action, I was left behind to rot in a prison. Four months being beaten, tortured, sleep deprived, starved, and electrocuted. Two months in the hospital and another month of sick leave. Permanent scars that will never heal.
"American, you stink!" Yeah, you sonofabitch, I think you would too if you were sitting in your own filth! I just looked at him with the one eye that wasn't swelled shut. He must not have liked the look. I felt a few of my teeth dislodge as he punched me. Spitting out as much blood as I could, I tried to put my molar back in with my tongue.
"So, pig. You gonna tell us now?" God, his breath stunk.
"'Ell you w'at?" I was feeling eloquent, some might even say elated. Sometimes I think I should keep my mouth shut. I probably swallowed that next tooth.
"In the mood for playing games?" He punched me in the stomach. I doubled over in the chair. It's such an indescribable feeling to have bile burning in your empty tooth sockets.
"'Ot really." My jaw felt horribly stiff. I wanted water; just a few drops.
"I'm giving you a minute to tell me." Taking a fist full of hair, he pulled my head back.
"I don't know w'at you-" God, did he have a hard fist. I tried to focus in on the bastard in the middle; my vision playing tricks again.
"Tell me!" He threw my head to the side. My neck crunched. I stared. His hand moved to something on the table and my fingernails dug into the chair.
"Oh, God!" Mickey Mantle would be jealous of that swing. It struck my right kneecap with such ferocity I thought he had taken off my lower leg. Talk about doing business with lead pipe cruelty; pun intended.
"Oh, God!" I have yet to feel something matching to the physical pain of having your kneecap shattered. It's like having all of your teeth busted out twice. He must have watched quite a few baseball games with the way he could align a swing with that pipe. I turned away as he leveled it to my head. Heard the pipe sing through the air and saw darkness.
Sarcasm is the defense of the weak minded, I heard once. They didn't know what the hell they were talking about. Sometimes a sense of humor is your only chance of survival. I woke up with the distinct feeling my head was the size of a watermelon and my arms were holding all of my weight. Oh fuck.
Being naked didn't seem to me as a good thing. Being drenched with water seemed odd on its own. I licked at the water dripping down over my face.
"Hey, American. What kind of car do you drive?" I slowly lifted my head, my neck spasming with the sudden movement.
"A Chevy pick-up."
"A Chevy. Heh!" It seemed funny to him. He stepped away from a cart and my heart stopped. A fucking car battery? Another Iraqi came into the room sporting a pair of insulated gloves. This was not looking good.
"You guys watch too many movies." It was beginning to dawn on me what was going to happen. If I had any spit in my mouth, I would have been swallowing rapidly.
"Tell us what we want to know and you'll have nothing to worry about."
"I don't know what you want!" I tried to free my arms, the short Iraqi with the gloves moving the cart closer. Touching the spark plug on a running lawn mower was enough shock for me, thank you.
"Tell me what I want-"
"I already told you! I don't-" I didn't get to finish before Shorty had me squirming like a mosquito in a bug zapper. He pulled back and I breathed again.
"Well?"
"Fuck off!" I could hardly speak. He just shrugged. Shorty had talent for his work; seemed to find my most abused parts and lay into me. After his fourth session, I retched and they hosed me down again.
"Yes?" Not being able to speak, I just shook my head. He was amazed. Shorty could have been an electro-shock therapist. I'm sure that if it was a cartoon, you could have seen my skeleton.
"Sara!" It was the only thing I could get my mouth to say. I closed my eyes against their impending explosion, seeing her beautiful face. Those pair of jeans that she loved; worn in all the right places. Those smiles of hers just for me. The way her feet rested together when she cooked at the stove. The way we'd fight over stupid stuff. The way we made up.
"Sara!"
A lot of people make the argument that women shouldn't be in the military, more specifically, shouldn't be in combat. Biggest load of horse shit I've ever bared witness to. Hardened generals say they can't deal with pain. Obviously they've never watched childbirth.
"Major O'Neill, your wife's gone into labor." I'm sorry, did you say labor? I must have blinked at the Airman so many times it scared him. "She's at County General, sir."
"Thank you." I ran down the hall to look for the General.
"Sir, my wife's gone into labor. Permission for temporary leave, sir?" I couldn't breathe. He just smiled at me.
"First kid, Major?"
"Aye, sir." My smile must have been huge.
"You have forty-eight hours, Major. Congratulations."
"Thank you, sir." I almost got into an accident on my way there. Stuff just wizzed by in a blur.
"Sara O'Neill?" The desk attendant looked at me confused. "She's in labor?" How much more obvious do I need to get?
"Oh right. You the father?"
"Husband? Yes." She stood up finally and waved for me to follow. I took off my hat and stuffed it into my pocket. The nurse told me to stay outside while she talked with the doctor. I tried to wait patiently, watching as they discussed in an outer room, the doctor looking up at me.
"Mr. O'Neill, I'm Dr. Knowles. Your wife has been having problems." The doctor flagged me into the room. I saw the top of Sara's head on the bed nodding side to side slowly. "The birth has progressed too far for me to give her a caesarian. She needs to continue as is, and I'm hoping you can provide her with some encouragement." The desk nurse peeled the coat from my shoulders and held up a gown. Obediently I slipped my arms into it, waiting for her to tie it behind my back. Some sort of gauzy hat was put on my head and then I was pushed through the double doors. I was amazed my legs would work, they were so wobbly.
"Jack!" Sara's hand reached for mine. She looked so tired, so spent. I kissed her forehead, hot with sweat.
"What's this I hear about you giving up? You want this kid out or what?" She squeezed my hand weakly as I ran my fingers through soaked hair.
"Oh Jack, I can't!" Dr. Knowles exchanged a pleading look with me.
"Sara, come on. You gotta do it. I know you can, honey. Come on!" I've never seen her give up on anything, at least not with the proper motivation. I had to get her angry with me.
"The General's signing me up for another tour." I bit my lip to keep from smirking.
"What?" She almost sat up, whipping her head around to look at me. "Jack, you promised!" Dr. Knowles glanced up from between Sara's legs, smiling.
"McGarvey's McGarvey. If he wants me to-"
"Push Sara. You're almost there." Sara turned between the doctor and I, not knowing who to listen to.
"Listen to the lady, Sara." Her face grimaced in concentration and the death grip on my hand tightened as she bore down. "He wants me for another tour, teaching."
"No way in hell!" Each word was spoken separately, deliberately. She pushed again, wanting to get the birth part over so she could yell at me with all of her concentration.
"Nice, Sara! Keep it going. You're almost there." The doctor looked up at me, wanting a bit more to stir the hornet's nest.
"What's your take on moving to Texas? I hear Randolph has some pretty good weather this time of year."
"Tell him to fuck off!" Her hand clamped so hard on mine I thought she'd break my fingers. Slamming my hand down on the edge of the table, she screamed. I screamed. Charlie was born. God, it was a beautiful thing.
"Congratulations, you two. You have a little boy." The doctor said over Charlie's screams, quickly wrapping him up after they had checked the little guy out. Sara tried to raise herself up to look over the sheet across her legs. Finally the nurse brought our son over, setting him on Sara's chest. She started crying.
"Jack, he's ours." Through the sweat, tears, running mascara, and wear on her face; she's never looked more beautiful.
"You bet. You did it Sara." I could hardly speak, looking down at that little face, red from screaming to wake the dead.
"Yeah, I guess I did." I kissed her, held my wife and my son, overcome by the wonder. I don't know how she did it. I don't know how she did it twelve years later. The stuffed shirts at the Pentagon say that women can't handle stressful situations. Bullshit. Watch a mother bury her child.
We are gathered here today to return Charles Jonathan O'Neill to God's loving arms. I stood there in shock, holding the umbrella over Sara's head. It was about as stereotypical for a burial as it could get. A faint misting of rain fell from the sky, crying on the silver coffin. The water dribbled down the side of the umbrella and dripped on my uniform adding to the discomfort of the occasion. I didn't care, I was numb anyway.
Deliver me, O Lord, to eternal life. She just stood there, breathing slowly from a half-opened mouth. Hadn't said more than a few words to me the entire funeral. Hadn't said more than a few words to me since it...oh God. How could I have been so stupid? The coffin got awfully blurry then and I looked over the priest's head, trying to keep it down. If I started now, I'd never stop.
O God, Whose attribute it is always to have mercy and spare; we humbly present our prayers to Thee for the soul of Thy servant Charles Jonathan. I could feel my elbow brush against her arm for just a moment. We stood side by side, but the distance felt like miles. Sara, if I could just take you into my arms and tell you I'm sorry. Tell you I'm sorry for taking your son away. Sara, I'm sorry.
Thou this day has called out of this world, a beloved child. We beseech Thee to deliver him into the hands of Thy holy angels and bear him into paradise. So sorry, Sara. I turned to look at her, watching as a solitary tear fell down her cheek. Her eyes were hollow and she concentrated on Charlie's...please, somebody wake me up from this nightmare. Charlie, I'm so sorry son. It wasn't your fault. I felt him in my arms again and I looked down into my sweaty hand, seeing the blood. Blood like that you couldn't wash off; it was burned into your memory. Daddy, I don't want to die. Six little words I couldn't make a promise to.
That as he has believed and hoped in Thee he may be delivered and inherit eternal life. Charlie, it's all right. You're safe here. Daddy, I'm sorry. Shh, don't worry. Daddy? Yes, Charlie. I love you. I love you too.
Through Christ our Lord, Amen. He stopped breathing. Charlie! Charlie, no! Oh God, please, not my son! I could barely get his neck lifted I was shaking so much. Jack! Sara was screaming, watching me do mouth to mouth. Blood, so much blood, everywhere. The EMTs came. They pronounced him dead shortly after he arrived at the hospital. Oh God.
I am the Resurrection and the Life. He started disappearing from sight as the coffin was lowered. My heart went down with him. Sara looked at her feet. Charlie was showered with flowers. I wouldn't wish the feeling on my worst enemy. People started coming up to us then, extending prayers, hugs, and offerings of support. The faces melted into a blur. Finally it was just Sara, the backhoe, and I.
"Sara, I-" I turned to look at her.
"Jack, don't." She didn't even glance up at me. She just crossed her arms over her chest and walked away towards the car. I wanted to fall into that hole with him. It was the beginning of the end for us. Sara found help from her friends. I found help at the bottom of the bottle. I felt I wouldn't be any help to her, and she respected my wishes. There's something about the daze of alcohol that seems to make everything so clear. For the first time in my life I had confirmation that I was a total failure. Failure as a man, as a husband, as a father, and as a half-assed soldier. They gave me temporary leave so I could 'sort out my feelings.' Sara asked me to move out, not having the stomach to watch me drink myself to death.
"Yeah, well you need the closet space anyhow." Remember what I told you about sarcasm? There was a small gleam of hope in her eyes but I couldn't bring myself to humor her. She wanted me to say something, anything, to tell her how I was feeling, to say that I loved her the same as the first day I laid eyes on her. Christ, I didn't even know. I loved her as always, but every time I saw her, the knife in my chest twisted a bit more. I knew she saw it the same way when she looked at me.
"Jack, I-" She looked so fragile.
"Sara, I know." I gave her a brief kiss and walked out on the best thing I ever had. That was the last time I saw her until the trip to P3X562 and the crystal shard thing.
Samantha Carter reminded me a lot of Sara. Her quiet strength. Her inflappable sense of right and wrong. She brought me back to reality several times in her little way. I had a woman to take care of me again and I was extremely resistant at first.
"I'm assigning Sam Carter to this mission." Hammond informed me.
"I prefer to choose my own team." I couldn't believe it. The General knew how I liked to play it. "Where's he transferring from?" At least I wanted to know a little something about the guy. Could I count on him in a fight?
"She is transferring from the Pentagon." My ears were deceiving me as I heard her soft alto behind me. A woman? Carter was in her dress blues, polished up to her neck. Blonde, average height, trim. I found myself swallowing. Transfixed in disbelief and mild agitation I stood and extended my hand to her. Refusing, she snapped to and gave me the most delightful salute. My brain was slow to respond, my arm only returning the salute because it was so ingrained in my blood.
"Captain Samantha Carter, reporting, sir."
"Let's get started." Hammond said, turning to me. "Colonel?" Clearing my throat, I tried to get back to the task on hand.
"Right. For those of you on your first trip through the Gate, you should be prepared for what to expect." Let's see how well she flies with a bit of pressure.
"I've practically memorized your report from the first mission. I like to think I've been preparing for this all my life." I had to give her credit for being on her toes and well read.
"Um, I think what the Colonel is trying to say is... have you ever pulled out of a simulated bombing run in an F-16 at eight-plus Gs?" Leave it to Kawalsky to get right to the meat of the matter. He wanted to see her slip up as much as I did.
"Yes." Carter stated flatly.
"Well, it's way worse than that." He wasn't going to let her out of it that easy.
"By the time you get to the other side you're frozen stiff, like you've just been through a blizzard naked." Ferrenti smiled, getting in on the action. I chuckled.
"That's from the compression your molecules undergo during the millisecond required for reconstitution." I rolled my eyes at her.
"Ah, here we go. Not another scientist, please?" I mock-begged Hammond.
"Theoretical astrophysicist." Man, she was cool under pressure.
"Which means what exactly?"
"Which means she is smarter than you are, Colonel." I think he had been saving that one in his back pocket. It was a low blow. It hurt. "Especially in the matters related to the Stargate." The two goons that called themselves my teammates found it amusing.
"Colonel, I was studying Gate technology for two years before Daniel Jackson made it work and before you both went through. I should have gone through then." First I get slapped down by the General, now I'm getting slapped down by a Captain. This is not my day. "Sir, you and your men might as well accept the fact that I am going through this time."
"With all due respect, Doctor-" For Christ's sake, I wasn't about to be ram-rodded by a subordinate.
"In the military it's proper to refer to a person by their rank, not their title. You should call me Captain, not Doctor." If Hammond wasn't there, I would have popped her one for sure. How dare you correct me, Captain?
"Captain Carter's assignment to this unit is not an option. It's an order." I was debating whether or not the General was cracked. He didn't seriously expect me to work with that woman!
"I'm an Air Force officer, just like you are, Colonel. And just because my reproductive organs are inside instead of outside doesn't mean I can't handle whatever you can handle." She spat vehemently at me and I could tell by the look on her face she was itching for me to challenge her.
"Oh, this has nothing to do with you being a woman! I like women! It's scientists I have a problem with." Suck on that one for a bit, chick!
"Colonel, I logged over a hundred hours in enemy airspace during the Gulf War. Is that tough enough for you? Or are we gonna have to arm wrestle?" I shivered. Spit and vinegar to the last she was. Sam could swim and I was elated. I never apologized for that meeting, and I hope she doesn't expect me to. Maybe one of these days when we're both old and gray, reminiscing about Gate travel. I'll slip my arm around her shoulders and say, Sam, you were one hell of a filly back then, weren't you?
She always amazed me as to how well she could express her emotions with eloquence, and I hoped this time was no different. I couldn't imagine life without the woman I had almost died with, the woman I had the pleasure to serve with for almost a year. I could almost see this situation changing her and I was frightened at the possibility. Rape was a wretched thing. Could take a perfectly normal woman confident in every aspect of her life and turn her into a cowering, self-doubting animal. Some women were survivors and changed their lives for the better afterwards. Others weren't. I desperately hoped Sam was in the first category. I know what it feels like to be helpless, to feel like you're alone and the only thing that's keeping you sane is hope. Hope that you'll get out of it alive with minimal damage. I wanted her to come out of it unscathed, like nothing had changed, but I knew that wouldn't happen. Hers was a unique torture that had to be overcome. I had come up short in my own recovery department.
Lying back down in the bed, I tried to get rid of the chill that was seeping into my bones. No matter how deep I buried myself below the covers, I still felt its presence floating around me like a cloud. Something deep welled up in my chest, like somebody was squeezing my lungs from the inside. Her voice called to me again...
Jack, please! The dark plays tricks on you sometimes. Makes things seem real that are pure fantasies. Another voice echoed Sam's.
Jack! Sara pleaded. It was starting to overwhelm me; all the past feelings dredging up to the surface. I am so sorry. Please, please forgive me! Forgive me for failing. I'm sorry...I didn't mean to, I swear!
I don't know how I managed to sleep that night, but I did. My angel returned to me, carrying a ball and glove, sensing my distress. Calm swept over me like an ocean. He tossed the baseball up into the air, centering his body below as it returned to him.
Hey Dad, how about a quick round?
*****
Dr. Daniel Jackson
I find it strange that Sam has a hidden sweet tooth. She just doesn't seem to me like the type that drools at the sight or smell of chocolate, but she is. Armed with a bag of miniature Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and a deck of cards, I walked towards her room. I had such a lump in my throat it was painful to even breathe, let alone swallow. Sam played it cool when I saw her at the infirmary, trying to talk to me about anything other than the mission to P6X398 and I can't say I blame her. I wish to God we could go back there and pick a fair fight; show those bastards that they can't mess with one of ours without repercussions. I highly doubt the General would sanction that one. I could see it in her eyes though. See the pain she didn't want me to know she was feeling.
At least I was able to see again. Managed to heal up my shiner enough that I could stand setting the new glasses back onto my nose. At times like these, I wish I could wear contacts. With some semblance of my confidence restored in the fact that I wasn't running into things based on blindness, I continued on.
Body parts are so disobedient. Wish them to do something, and they don't. I held my hand to her door for so long, trying to get my knuckles to work, to actually move. Once my arm got tired, they fell to the door anyway, and it was easy after that. Blocking the goodies behind my back, I waited for her to open the door.
"Who is it?"
"It's me, Daniel." The lock was thrown and slowly the door opened. I concentrated on her blue eyes, not wanting to see the bruises all over her face.
"Hey, Daniel." She wiped a wisp of blonde hair behind an ear then motioned me in.
"I, uh, brought you something." Half a smile cracked across her lips as she looked at me. Her hand rested on the edge of the opened door.
"Do I want to know?"
"Fine, fine, just more chocolate for me." I jiggled the bag in front of her and her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. It was a wonderful sight to see again.
"Daniel, come here!" She reached for the bag with her good arm and I pulled it out of her reach. "Gim'me!"
"On one condition." I displayed the deck of cards for her. "You play me a few rounds of gin." Sam thought about it briefly, glancing between the cards, the chocolate, and me, trying to decide if it was worth it.
"Okay, but prepare to get your butt kicked, Daniel Jackson." Slowly she tried to sit on the floor, finding it difficult with broken ribs and clavicle. Cautiously I reached out my hand to help, but she refused, backing away from me. She wanted to do it herself and I watched as she struggled, finally kneeling on the ground before sitting.
"Pillow?"
"Nope, I'm fine." No she wasn't, I could see it on her face. Broken ribs were a bitch and the collarbone added to the agony. She tried to get comfortable, shifting her weight about, trying to sit up straight, failing horribly, and finally letting out a sigh as she tried to stand up again.
"Sam, stop. You're going to hurt yourself." Not thinking, I reached out to grab her arm to keep her from falling over. It was the wrong thing to do.
Sam rose to her feet quickly and tried to pull her arm away from my hand, shrinking back. Her arm flailed and she slapped my face, shrieking in terror. My glasses never had a prayer, rocketing across the room. I let go of her arm, and she cowered as much as her injuries would allow, struggling. She began to hyperventilate.
"Sam, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. It's okay, relax." Her mouth released a strangled gasp as she tried to breathe through a clenched throat. It sounded like she was dying. Those eyes stared at me in horror and she stumbled back, shaking her head no.
"Stay away!" She croaked, holding out her hand as if to stop me.
"Sam, it's me, Daniel! Sam! Please!" Oh God, it was so frightening to look at her like that. Somebody said to me that the most hideous thing to listen to is the death scream of a rabbit when a predator catches it. At that moment, I couldn't imagine anything worse than that sound Sam was making right then. I began to shake.
"Stay away!" She ran out of space, stepping back into the wall. Pressing flat against it, she tried to focus in on my face, her head nodding in horror.
"Sam, it's me, dammit!" Exasperated, I took a step forward, trying to convince her that I wasn't going to hurt her. "Daniel! Daniel, your friend!" Not knowing what else to do, I held out my shaking hand to her. She studied me in earnest, her mind confused. I know she saw her attacker, but somewhere inside, Sam recognized my voice. A cautious hand began to move towards mine.
"Daniel?" Her eyes glazed over, looking at me as if she was blind.
"Yeah, Sam, it's me." I tried to make the words as soothing as possible, even though I choked on them. Stepping a little closer, I touched a fingertip to one of hers, testing the water.
"Daniel?" Sam's voice was panicked. Her hand grabbed mine and squeezed.
"Right here, Sam." Slowly her eyes began to focus in on my face and when realization hit her, she sucked in a deep breath and began to cry.
"Daniel!" She sobbed openly and my heart was ripped out of my chest. Oh God, Sam, I am so sorry this happened to you. My hand went to her shoulder, and eventually around, pulling her into my arms. What I wouldn't have given to make it all go away for her. I didn't to squeeze her as hard as I wanted, trying to be careful of her broken bones.
"I'm sorry." Sam looked up after awhile, moving her hand to wipe away her tears. She sniffled and managed a smile. "Didn't mean to get all slobbery on you." She brushed at my shirt, trying to make her tears disappear.
"It's okay. It will wash." I clutched her hand to my chest, lifting her chin with a finger. "I'm more worried about you than some stupid shirt." Her eyes avoided mine; the protective wall going back up. Finally the hand slipped from mine.
"I'm alright, thanks." Sam stepped away, wiping off the last of her tears with the back of her hand. I looked for my glasses.
"Daniel, you're bleeding." I found my glasses near one of the legs on the bed. She took my shoulder and I looked at her in confusion.
"Bleeding? What? Where?"
"Here." She touched my temple, showing the few drops of crimson on her fingers. I sighed. She didn't even remember striking me.
"Oh, that's nothing. Probably just bumped it on something. I'll survive." I smiled at her, gently patting her shoulder. She tensed and my hand slipped from her arm. This was going to be difficult. I knew I needed to give her time to heal, but I also wanted her to open up to me. Things that were kept bottled up for too long would explode and with her, I wasn't sure how. Jack was reason I studied up on post-traumatic stress disorder and this wasn't any different that the torture he had suffered during the Gulf War. I wanted to help her, but she needed to give me a sign.
She found the cards I had thrown on her bed and opened the package slowly, shaking out the deck. I tried to imagine what she was thinking about as her fingers shuffled though them endlessly. What made it worse was the fact that we didn't come when she needed us most. She had cried out but no one came. I hoped she didn't blame us for what happened, but I could be horribly wrong. I love her like a sister, like the sister I would have always wanted. She balanced the team out so well, mellowing Jack and keeping my head below the stratosphere. It broke my heart to see her so belittled like this; to feel humiliated among friends.
"Sam, you know I'm here if you want to talk about anything." She had turned to the bag of chocolate on her bed, picking up a foil wrapped piece. "Anything, anything at all." Slowly her fingers opened up the package, deliberately and precisely, exposing the candy. It moved to her mouth and she took a small bite. Sam chewed for an insane length of time and I knew her mind had wandered off.
"Daniel, do you think I'm pretty?" I almost choked. I couldn't imagine why she was asking me that out of the blue.
"Pardon me?"
"Pretty. Do you think I'm pretty?" Talk about heated questions. If I didn't respond right, it could get ugly quickly. I wasn't sure what she needed to hear.
"Sam, whatever gave you the idea that you weren't?" I bit my lip, hoping that was a good reply. She ate the last of the peanut butter cup, her fingers working over the foil wrapper, folding it into squares. Sam didn't respond.
"Talk to me." Cautiously I approached, looking for any sign that I shouldn't.
"Come on, Daniel. It isn't a difficult question you know." She was nervous and fidgety as if not hearing me speak previously. Sam turned to me, a hurt look crossing her face. "I'm not, am I?" Her eyes turned dark, as dark as the bruises on her face.
"I didn't say that, Sam! Christ, you didn't even give me a chance to reply!" Tears were welling in her eyes again and I felt my patience failing. Again she turned her back to me and rested forehead in hand, shaking her head. Sam started laughing. It was strangled and harsh, and sounded freakish as if she was possessed.
"Yeah I can't imagine anybody thinking I'm the least bit attractive. I mean, my God, how much plainer could I get? Walk around all day in fatigues looking like a guy. Can't tell you the last time I wore a dress. Or had a boyfriend. Christ, that's been even longer!" She was working herself up into hysterics, flailing her good arm as she paced in the small space between the desk and I. She had turned to me for validation, my hatred for him growing with each passing second. How dare he take her confidence away! How dare he leave her feeling weak and helpless!
"Sam."
"Why don't you just admit it, Daniel?" The tears were pouring from her eyes and she looked so hurt.
"Sam, come on. Calm down." I touched her shoulder and she tried to move. My hand clasped down as she attempted to back away from me.
"Calm down? I'm not going to calm down!" It was getting idiotic, this argument, but I knew it had to progress until she worked her way through it. "Let go of me, Daniel."
"Samantha, stop!" She looked up at me then, not used to hearing her full name. "You are beautiful. You always have been and you always will. You are a wonderful woman and scientist, no matter what you think. Hell Sam, if I wasn't-"
"Now you're just humoring me." Sam batted away my arm and turned from me. She was quickly wiping off the tears as they formed, her body shaking in anger.
"Sam, I am not humoring you. I can understand why you-"
"There is no way you can understand!" She wagged a finger at me. "No way possible!" She clutched her ribs, agonizing pain shooting through her side as she tried to breathe.
"I know, I can't. I could never know what you went through. But Sam, I want to help you! I can't stand seeing you like this and I am so sorry for what happened to you. Really, I am! I can't make things better for you either. It's something you have to do on your own, but if you need me I'll be right here, standing next to you!" Sam looked at me in shock, her lips trembling.
"Why didn't you come?" She mouthed the words for the longest time before being able to speak them. "Jesus Daniel! Why?" Unable to find the words I just looked at her, her teeth grinding in anger.
"Answer me!" She struck my chest with a fist, lashing out.
"Sam." I tasted saline as a tear rolled down my cheek to my lips. God Sam, we tried! We all tried!
"Why!" Sam was pleading with me, pounding my chest again.
"Believe me Sam, we tried."
"I screamed and screamed for you but you never said anything!" I held out my arms in crucifixion, letting her hit me.
"Sam, we did! You couldn't hear us." I was crying almost as badly as she was, taking each slug as if it was my punishment for failing her. Slowly she stepped forward, closer to me, the sobs leaving her breathless. Sam covered her face with her hand and I embraced her once more.
"I am so sorry, Sam! God, we tried. I know Jack did. I could hear him trying to break out of the ropes. Teal'c and I too. We couldn't get out of there, Sam. I'm so sorry." I hate feeling helpless, like there isn't anything you can do to make it all better. Even more I hated the thought that she'd constantly feel on guard around us merely on the coincidence that we were men. It would be a long time before she felt safe with us again.
"Daniel, just hold me." It was the most heart-wrenching request I have ever had. Closing my eyes, I lowered my head to rest against hers. My hand raised to smooth down her hair, the remnant sobs shaking her body.
"Sure thing, Sam." Her left arm went around my waist, her right arm in the sling pressing against my stomach. I don't know how long we stood there before a lullaby from Abydos started its melody in my head, finally lowering to my throat. Humming, I held her close, rocking her like a small child, wishing to wake up and find it all a horrible dream.
*****
Captain Samantha Carter, USAF
Off we go into the wild blue yonder,
Climbing high into the sun;
Here they come zooming to meet our thunder,
At 'em boys, give 'er the gun, give 'er the gun now!
Down we dive spouting our flame from under,
Off with one helluva roar!
We live in fame or go down in flame, hey!
Nothing'll stop the U.S. Air Force!
Nothing except for the fact that it was still a boy's world in a co-ed camp. The scandalous incident that humiliated the Navy proved just as much. The annual convention of the Tailhook Association was exposed for what it really was; a gathering of drunk pilots sexually assaulting Lieutenant Paula Coughlin and twenty-five other women, fourteen of whom were officers. The men had dubbed the third floor of a Las Vegas hotel "The Gauntlet" and proceeded to grab, grope, rub, and finger any poor unsuspecting woman that passed by. Some of the more obscene stories included tales of the pilots serving alcohol from the penis of a papier-mâché rhinoceros. It was a gross display of how women were really treated in the military; as recreation for the men.
Amazingly, I didn't really receive much hazing at the Academy, although I suspect it's partially due to the fact my father is General Jacob Carter. The instructors at Colorado Springs probably figured it was best not to pummel a general's daughter in order to save their career. I was a military brat down to the bone, but I didn't want it to impact my career. All I ever wanted to do was get into space, and I wanted to do it on my own merits.
I never did care much when the path got laid with innuendoes. An intelligent woman will get into the locker room and learn how to snap asses with wet towels. You had to be one of the boys and make them forget you had curves, breasts, and didn't urinate standing up. You learn to throw the insults back and then they respect you. If you whine about the maltreatment, you're going to get nothing but grief.
Men crack jokes about how the intelligence goes down in a room with more than two women in it. I've got my own theory about groups of men in rooms. The maturity level is inversely proportionate to the number of men in the room. In other words, the more men, the more likely they are to act like they're four instead of forty. I worshiped Jack O'Neill when I read the dossier on the first mission to Abydos, but meeting him had been less of a pleasure. Is that tough enough for you? Or are we gonna have to arm wrestle? I could understand why he was such a prick to me with Kawalsky and Ferrenti sitting there. They were teammates from the original mission and buddy-buddy with the Colonel. There wasn't much I could do to change that fact, but I had to make him understand he couldn't refuse me.
I had been waiting to step out of the Gate since 1992 when I first got pulled in on the project with Catherine Langford at the Pentagon. They were thrilled to get a quantum mechanics and particle physicist still wet behind the ears and capable of pulling off eighteen-hour shifts without a wink of sleep. The ink on my Ph.D. wasn't even dry a full year. I had just earned my captain's bars from flying in the Gulf War, and I can tell you they didn't call me Diablo for nothing. Some of the most enjoyable moments of my life took place in that Lockheed F-117A Nighthawk, even if it was rather harried at times. My career couldn't have been more perfect. And then I met Jonas Hansen.
What makes me so eager to help anything that's hurting? Could it be I mother now because I wasn't exactly a typical little girl? I don't think I owned a doll other than Major Matt Mason, and probably wouldn't play with one if I did. I was more interested in trying to convince my father that he had another son. I felt like I was the furthest shell electron in a plutonium atom circling around that distant nucleus. My parents and my brother were there, and I was out in left field somewhere.
Jonas filled that niche. I met him in Washington all those years ago, so strangely disturbed. He was several years my senior, and could have easily made major, but something held him back. Most veterans avoided accepting responsibility for others because they think they failed in ensuring the safety of people who did not survive. Jonas was the opposite. He felt the reason why he survived was because he was chosen for some strange reason. I tried to help him, really I did, but he just, kind of, went around the bend. I loved him at the time, but it was just too much stress to my system. I couldn't hold up his emotional baggage and carry my own at the same time. The engagement failed after a month.
I wasn't exactly showered with praise for being feminine as a kid. My mother got her way for important family functions, turning me into some semblance of a girl, but not without a tooth-and-claw fight on my part. Maybe that's why I'm so resistant to complements, especially those about my appearance or quality as a woman. If a guy makes an off-handed mention about my hair or my eyes, I can never believe him. It always feels like they're buttering me up for something, never speaking the truth. They'd call me attractive, and I'd ask them what they wanted. When it comes down to it, I don't think I had too many boyfriends since high school. Jonas was the only serious relationship I have ever had and boy, was it ever dysfunctional. He was too wrapped up in his complex to complement me, and it was fine by me. Self-contained men have always lured me, and he was no different.
Nor was I starved for non-sexual male companionship either. My navigator, Jeff Dempsey, was my best friend from the time that we were paired to when I moved on for Grad school. Drop dead gorgeous with pale green eyes. One inch taller and he would have surpassed the height requirements. Hey Carter, come here and sit on my shoulders for a bit. I gotta shrink before the next evaluation. Too bad he was already married to a lovely woman and had two kids. Dempsey, shut up before I come over there and put my foot in your hole. We felt like an old pair of tour boots together, our minds melding to form a superior flying machine. We still keep in touch even through Cheyenne Complex's security. He sends me postcards from the back-hole bases he gets sent to and I hear the clan just recently went up one; Samuel Percy, named after his favorite pilot. Just don't tell him that the pilot's a girl. You don't want to give him a complex, Jeff.
I'm thirty-three and not getting younger. I know what's missing from my life, but I'm too stubborn to do anything about it. Christ, I'm enjoying myself too much. If I had known I was going to be doing multi-dimensional travel between galaxies as a kid, it would have blown my mind. Sometimes I look at my brother and it pains me to realize that I'm slowly taking away my chances for a family. Then I look at Jack and realize how quickly it can all just disappear. Whoever comes up with the closet companion could make a fortune. I just don't have my heart set on marrying anybody, but occasionally I need to feel close to somebody. Daniel's excellent for a nice hug, but that's just it. It could never be more than just plutonic. I think he's coming to the slow resolution that possibly he may not be able to get Sha're back, but that doesn't mean I'm going to move into her shoes. The baggage that comes along with him could be just as bad as Jonas' would, and that's the last thing I need.
Oh God, Daniel.
I think I was handling this all very well until the other night when he showed up on my doorstep with a bag of chocolate and a deck of cards. Then I just kinda flipped out and lost it. Janet had prepared me for the flashbacks and stuff, but I think I scared the crap more out of him that I did myself. I haven't slept more than six hours total since she slipped me the mickey in the infirmary. And I haven't been afraid of the dark since I was two. Every sudden noise makes my heart want to escape my chest and I'd be greatly appreciative if this mess would all go away. Fat chance at that.
Oh joy, I have a review in twenty minutes. A debriefing and an evaluation to see if they can put me back on active duty yet. I wish they would because I'm going insane with nothing to do and my morbid mind wandering to places I wish it wouldn't go.
Broken ribs are a bitch. Every time you breathe there's a shooting pain that turns into an aggravating annoyance. You're encouraged to breathe deeply even though it's physically impossible. Doctors don't tape you up anymore to promote deeper breathing, so you constantly feel like half your chest is going to fall off. On occasion I think I've even felt my own bones move and it's an eerie feeling.
Getting dressed is even more amusing, especially with a broken collarbone thrown into the mix. My entire right side feels like dead weight, leaving it useless. I requested a few larger shirts from the Quarter Master and he thankfully provided. I had given up on wearing a bra too, figuring no way to do it comfortably. I slipped the sleeve onto my right arm slowly over the brace and fished for the other sleeve with my left. The shirt was bigger than I had expected, the tails hanging almost to my knees. Painfully I buttoned it, leaving the top one undone and tried to figure out what to do with the shirt tails and the long sleeves. Finally I just resorted to tucking them into my pants just enough so it didn't look to weird. Nobody said SGC was the heart of the fashion industry. The shirtsleeves were rolled up to my elbows so I didn't feel like I was swimming in them any more. I had managed a system for my boots that seemed to work. Loosen up the laces just enough without untying them so I could get my foot into it then pull the knot ends. I was able to get enough slack to wrap it around the hooks. Wasn't as pleasant as a good tying job, but it kept them from falling off of my feet.
I have avoided a mirror since coming home from P6X398. I'm not exactly eager to see my face mottled by a load of bruises. I had enough reminders of what went down on that hellhole that I didn't need more. Luckily I believe in low maintenance hair and dragged a brush through it before stepping out the door. I took my time walking down the hall, certainly not in any rush to recount the mishap during the mission, brushing my fingertips against the rough texture of the walls.
He rounded the corner and looked up at me, and I slowed down even more, increasing the distance to our intersection. I couldn't look him in the face so I kept my eyes on the tiles hoping to God that he'd ignore me. No such luck.
"Captain Carter. How's the ribs?" Jack didn't let me escape without notice, blocking my path with his lanky body.
"Fine sir, healing nicely." I shot him a tense smile, looking at his mouth. I couldn't look into his eyes and I didn't want to. I didn't want to see his disappointment or the disgust. His hands fidgeted in his pockets.
"Off to the briefing room?" He asked after a dreadfully long patch of silence. Was my schedule posted in the men's room or something? Sure, he was my C.O., but Jesus.
"Yes, Colonel." Jack, just say it, say I told you so. Something twitched on his face and I looked up without thinking, catching those deep eyes. I quickly steeled myself for what they would reveal, waiting for the thought of 'fuck you too' to come to me, but it didn't. He swallowed harshly, his lips setting in a thin line and he looked nervous to me. God, Jack never looked nervous, not even going into head-on weapon fire. Maybe I was imagining it. His mouth opened slightly, his tongue rolling over the inside of his teeth as if to say something, and promptly it shut again. A new look came to his eyes then, one of slow suffocation. He desperately wanted to say something to me, but couldn't screw up the courage.
"Great. It will be nice to have you back on the list, Captain." His face hardened again and he stepped around me. Always an enigma was Jack O'Neill. I prayed for no more interruptions on my journey to the evaluation, needing to save what was left of my sanity to face MacKenzie. Thankfully the angels gave me a break.
"Captain Carter, nice to see you. Please, do sit down." Dr. MacKenzie stood when I entered the room, smoothing his tie down over his shirt. My skin was beginning to crawl and he hadn't even started. I eased myself into the chair across from him, turning to lean back slightly on my left side. Putting any kind of pressure on my back hurt but at least not as bad if I sat up straight. I decided to do the Napoleon thing and rest my right hand between the buttons on the large shirt, supporting the weight straining against my collarbone. Now if only the conversation that was about to transpire would be a comfortable as how I was sitting.
"I want to begin this by stating that if at any point you need to take a break, please feel free to tell me." How generous of him. I scratched a fingernail on the tabletop and nodded. "Let's begin." He opened a large file folder, no doubt the testimonials of the others. It was more pomp and circumstance than anything else, he didn't need me to verify their accounts, he just wanted to pry into my skull.
"Can you tell me about start of the mission, Captain." He crossed his fingers at the knuckles and rested his elbows against the table.
"We embarked roughly nine-hundred fifteen hours and arrived on P6X398 shortly after. Started out as a standard alpha-reconn mission with the team breaking up into pairs. I was with Colonel O'Neill, and Dr. Jackson and Teal'c were together." So far so good. I breathed.
"How long was it until you were fired upon by hostiles?"
"Almost an hour. We left the field with the Gate for a bit more cover. Traveling south, we crossed a westbound path and I suggested we take it." Any ideas folks? We can go south or west. What do you think, Carter? Well, sir, it might lead to the town. Wouldn't hurt to take it. West it is then. "The path opened up into a field and we were fired upon. Colonel O'Neill sent cover fire as we backtracked. They already had us surrounded."
"Dr. Jackson was hit first?"
"Yes, he was point on the retreat and didn't see it coming." The weapons were energy pulses leaving the area of contact paralyzed. Daniel was nailed in the hip, immediately falling to the ground clutching his side. I covered as Teal'c dragged him out of the way. "We tried to keep a tight group."
"When were you hit?"
"After Colonel O'Neill." I heard him cry out next to me, a pulse to his leg taking him down. I crouched over his body, glancing over to Teal'c who was guarding Daniel. Colonel! Carter, look out! He fired his handgun around me, picking off the one from behind. Another approached and I downed him before he got the chance to fire. Jack looked horribly pale as he grabbed his leg in agony. I saw the movement from the corner of my eye, but the hostile had the drop on me. His energy weapon lit up as it fired, taking out my left arm. It stung like some giant bee had nailed me, a painful tingling surging up through my arm. I managed to turn and get off a few rounds before he rendered my right arm useless. My rifle went flying and I collapsed next to Jack. Teal'c was last, sustaining three blows before going down, unconscious.
"Then they took you to the prison?" I looked up at MacKenzie and nodded, swallowing. Jack struggled as they approached, raising his hand to finish off the last of his clip in the gun. Another energy shot paralyzed his arm. One of the hostiles stood over Daniel, kicking the empty gun out of his hand. He shrieked as they slapped his glasses aside, driving a fist into his skull. Two ganged up on Jack then as he frantically fought to get to Daniel, a swift kick to his head leaving me the only conscious one. I was studied curiously by a scarred man as he leaned over me, grabbing a fistful of my jacket. My arms dumbly fell to the side as he lifted me off the ground, his free hand undoing the strap to my helmet. He seemed to like the feel of my skin against his hands, spending the extra time to stroke my throat. With the last bit of courage I had, I lifted my leg into his crotch, falling back hard to the ground as he let go of my jacket. He cursed bitterly when he regained composure, standing over me. Learning his lesson, he stood to my side and grabbed my hair with an angry fist. His other lifted behind him and came down fast into my chest, successfully knocking the wind out of me. Not being able to breathe when you're panicked is bad, and I tried to get my lungs to work again. He laughed as I fish-mouthed, gasping for air, watching me squirm. Slowly my chest opened again and was able to pull in a few breaths. Then the masochistic bastard put his hand over my mouth. I croaked against his hand, the sound coming from the small amount of air in my lungs passing from my throat back down. Kicking, I tried to get away from him, but his hands held me still like a vice.
A strange calmness washes over you when you suffocate. Your body becomes resigned to its fate, most likely resulting from the lack of oxygen to the brain. You begin to hallucinate through the impending tunnel vision, and I thought I saw the cockpit of an F-117. Diablo one, this is base foxtrot-kilo three-niner-seven. You are clear for take off, over. Roger three-niner-seven, over and out.
"Where were you when you regained consciousness?" MacKenzie shifted his weight in the chair, leaning forward to the pitcher of water. He offered me a glass but I refused.
"In a cell." I woke up with a start and thought I was blind, completely surrounded by darkness. An agonizing headache pounded in the back of my skull complimented by a burning through my chest. My arms shook something fierce, but they worked. "By myself." Quickly I took inventory. My vest, helmet, and thigh holster were all missing. I wasn't tied down to anything and that itself was a relief.
"Colonel?" My voice seemed awfully throaty. "Daniel? Teal'c?" I thought they were probably still unconscious. Slowly I sat up, cradling my throbbing head in my hands. That's the other thing about suffocation. The brain will really let you know when it's not happy about its treatment.
"Can you describe the place?"
"Really dark. The door seemed to be air and light tight so it was pitch black." At one point I had managed to crawl to a wall and stand, pacing off the measurements. Roughly twelve by twelve; one hundred forty-four feet square all to myself.
"When were you first contacted?"
The guys weren't answering and I didn't like that at all. I pounded on the walls and screamed, demanding everything from my lawyer to a pack of gum. It all had to be a bad nightmare. I should have been dead from the strangulation.
"Shortly after I regained consciousness." Sudden brightness from above scared me and I protected my eyes with my hand. Slowly getting used to the light, I took the chance to study my surroundings. Smooth gray walls and floors, stretching up to a cathedral ceiling. That's why I had echoed so badly when I spoke. The light source was a weak bulb over what looked like a door. Blinking a few times, I crossed over to it in curiosity, not believing my eyes. Light bulb? What the...?
The door opened quickly, clipping my hip. Stumbling backwards, I looked up and swallowed. Scarface had returned.
"Captain?" Startled, I shook my head and looked up at MacKenzie. He was twirling a pen between his fingers.
"Yes?"
"I had asked you what happened."
"Oh right. One of the men who had fired on us in the field came into the cell. I asked him about Colonel O'Neill, Dr. Jackson, and Teal'c, but didn't get a response."
The door closed behind him and suddenly those hundred and forty-four square feet felt like two.
"Where are my teammates?" I tried my best to look imposing, putting my hands on my hips. He studied me in silent curiosity, a hand resting at his waist, the other in his pocket. I stepped closer, looking at him in earnest.
"Where are my team-" He smacked me with such fierceness I fell to the ground. I checked for blood on my lip before looking up at him. He looked at his nails before resting the hand back on his belt. You sonofabitch!
"Care to elaborate, Captain?" MacKenzie saw my sudden discomfort. My fingernail dug into the simulated leather runner on the tabletop and I swallowed.
"He backhanded me." MacKenzie looked down at the twirling pen. "I fell to the floor."
"Good Captain. Tell me everything you can." I nodded, adjusting my arm.
Scarface looked strangely like a flight instructor of mine from way back; black hair with blue eyes, lean but muscular build. At this prospective he looked immense, glaring down at me from above. He thumbed his nose a bit before reaching down for me and I rolled out of his reach to stand up in the corner. A smile of amusement crossed his face and he mumbled something unintelligible.
"Continue please." MacKenzie prompted, sliding a glass of water at me. I stared at the air bubbles on the inside of the glass.
"He beat on me for a bit, then left."
It was a wretched looking thing, that scar. It snaked from below his left eye straight down till it angled over into his chin. Stitched horribly, it left an angry red path across his pale skin. He took a few steps towards me, his arms out as if to coral me into the corner. Scarface was about to get a rude surprise.
Waiting till he was close enough, I lashed out with a right jab, catching him under the chin. I snap punched into his stomach and he groaned leaning forward. Grabbing his head, I pushed it into my lifting knee, and he dropped in a daze. I practically leapt over his body for the door.
"Colonel?" I pounded against the door with the palms of my hands, screaming. There wasn't a doorknob or latch to grab for leverage. "Daniel! Teal'c!" A second later I was staring into the face of rage.
His hand clamped down on my shoulder, spinning me towards him. I lifted my leg to kick him, but he threw me back with such force, I was winded again when I hit the adjacent wall. On me in an instant, he grabbed the side of my face with a large hand. Very effectively he cut off my air and probably half my jugular with his thumb as he ground my face into the wall. I struck out blindly, struggling to get him to release his grasp on my air.
Something was spoken harshly in my ear before he released me, throwing me to the floor. Clutching my throat, I tried to breathe again, raising up to my hands and knees. More worried about breathing than anything else, I left myself wide open for attack. A heavy boot against my chest flipped me over and I skidded to a stop against the wall.
I felt a crunch with the next kick, his foot sinking deeper, and I screamed in agony. It felt like somebody had knifed me in the side. A satisfied smile crossed his face as he watched me writhe, finally turning towards the door. With a small tap, it was opened for him and promptly shut. Thirty seconds later, I was plunged into darkness as the light went off.
"When was the next time he came?" I reached for the glass of water and brought it to my shaking lips, taking a quick sip. It clattered loudly as I set it back down, a drop sloshing out over the side. I rubbed it into the table with a finger.
"I fell asleep at some point and awoke with him standing over me." And my bloody brain didn't remember I had broken ribs. I tried to slide back away from him but came against painful opposition. He lifted a container over my head and poured, practically drowning me with the water. Coughing hurt like hell and I clutched my side in pain.
"Can I help you?" I wiped the water out of my eyes, and sat up as best as I could. Scarface idly twirled the jug around his finger by the handle. I took stock of my injuries; at least two ribs were broken midway between my armpit and hip and my chest burned like I had swallowed a hot poker. I'd live, hopefully.
He motioned for me to get on my feet and I reluctantly complied. I straightened my uniform and tried my best to look like an U.S. Air Force Captain through the shooting ache in my side. The jug spun around again. Okay, this is pointless. I need to find out about Jack, Teal'c and Daniel.
"Can you please tell me about my teammates? I need to be reassured that they are alive and well." I tried to sound as calm and poised as possible even though my blood was boiling. An eyebrow arched at me. He took a step forward and I took one back. Annoying drops of water fell into my eyes.
This guy was good. I raised my hand to my face to wipe the water away for just a second and the next thing I knew, I was keeling over from the impact of the jug going into my stomach. He pinned me against the wall with my hands above my head.
"He, ah, pinned me against the wall." I watched the screensaver spin SGC's logo on the monitor over MacKenzie's shoulder. It waxed and waned ad nauseum and I found myself breathing in rhythm.
"What happened next, Captain Carter?" My peripheral vision caught him scratching something onto the paper tablet before him.
"I tried to defend myself." I choked out the words as my chin went to my chest. I could handle the assault and God, I could somewhat handle the rape, but the inability to defend myself upset me the most. It was debilitating pain to have my arms raised over my head with the damn broken ribs and he got a thrill to see how much he could make me scream. He inched my wrist up further, hanging my weight on my right arm and I thought I was dying.
"Oh my...!" I could hardly scream I was so out of breath. Trying to kick against him only made it hurt worse, twisting my body in horrible contortions. Black spots clouded my eyes and I felt extremely lightheaded. If he was going to kill me, I wished he would get it over.
I slumped to the floor when he finally released my arm; my head slamming back into the wall so hard I felt my neck crunch. I didn't care; I just wanted to die.
"When did the sexual assault begin?" MacKenzie leaned back in his chair, still twirling that damn pen. My heart was beating double time to the spin of the SGC logo and it felt like somebody was reaching for my brain from up my spinal cord. My nails dug into the table. I really did not want to lose it in front of him, but my body wasn't cooperating. Biting down as hard as I could, I swallowed the grapefruit-sized lump in my throat.
"He." I cleared my throat a few times. "He strangled me until I passed out again." In my daze I could see Scarface lean over me, and slowly I became aware of the tightening around my throat. The tightening became specific fingertips; a thumb to the left, four large fingers to the right. He pressed my neck back against the wall as he squeezed, watching intently as my eyes rolled into the back of my head. With the last of my consciousness, I dug my nails into his forearm, trying to cause him a bit of discomfort in his revelry. Diablo one to base echo tango two-six-two. Requesting landing and refuel, over. Echo tango to Diablo, we copy. Continue designated course, over and out. We live in fame or go down in flame, hey! Nothing'll stop the U.S. Air Force!
MacKenzie looked a little blurry. He pushed over a box of tissues and I decided on the back of my hand instead. Wiping off the tears, I looked down into my hand.
"Take your time, Captain." I just nodded, smoothing out the lines in my palm with a thumb. Somehow I breathed through the swelling in my throat.
"I woke up a little later. He had started without me." A weary smile crossed my lips and my eyes overflowed. Damn tears! My heart thumped painfully in my chest; a strange mixture between anger, pain, and relief numbing my body.
I don't know why he had bothered to get me on my feet; he could have used gravity to his advantage. I woke up with my arms tied behind me and my legs spread-eagle. There are no words to describe that feeling of panic. Your body jerks so hard it's as if your skeleton wants out of your skin. My feet pedaled against the wall as if I could climb it to get away from him. My hands fought against whatever he tied me with and I screamed from pure instinct.
Sitting there across from MacKenzie, I wanted to throw up. Just the remembering the feel of...was enough to make me green. Blowing a large breath out, I bit down on my lip till I tasted blood, the brief pain enough to keep me from squirming in disgust. My hand reached for the water glass. I couldn't get it an inch off the table without my hand shaking so violently that I had to set it back down.
"Captain, did you orgasm?" My hand jerked and the glass fell, soaking half of the table. Enraged I stood, the fire of pain returning to my side.
"What the hell kind of question is that?" I was sick. How could he even suggest I got off on that?
"Captain Carter, I-"
"Oh no Doc, it was the time of my life! Best fucking sex I have ever had!" My voice raged over in sarcasm as I beat a fist against the table. "How the hell can you say something like that?" Angry, I kicked the chair back. It clattered loudly against the carpeted floor. He was pale.
"Captain Carter, I merely wish to assess the proportion of abuse. Some survivors who reported symptoms of enjoyment that comes from normal sexual activity often berate themselves for it. I wish to help you as much as I can, but I do have to know about your condition." It was the most he had said to me the entire interview and he said it so calmly, I had to listen. "Now please sit down."
I felt like a fool. It's just the suggestion that anybody could get off on that disgusted me. Picking up the chair I sat, repositioning myself.
"To answer your question, no." I said finally, staring down at the amoeba like shape the water puddle had formed.
Scarface was having a grand old time at my expense. Hands on my hips held me still and I struggled as best as I could. At one point I think I managed to kick his shin. Not amused, his hand lifted to my head, taking a fistful of hair. He snapped my head back into the wall, nearly concussing me. There is no way in hell you are getting off without paying for it, fucko!
His hand slipped up my right side to grab my broken ribs, squeezing with nimble fingers.
"Oh God!" Excruciating pain shot into every nerve. I reflexively arched my back and tightened my legs against him and it was exactly what he wanted. Driving deeper into me, he groaned and I tried to scream, my breath gone. I could have chipped away at the wall behind me if my nails had been strong enough.
The survival instinct must have kicked in because all I felt was primal rage. He was becoming distracted in his impending ecstasy and oddly his hands began to loosen their grip on me. All I wanted was for him to be done with it so I could comprehend it all. I heeled the back of his thighs so harshly I figured he'd drop me. His hand moved up to my right shoulder and with one swift punch, he ended my struggles. My breath escaped from my lungs in a heartbeat. He had punished me by breaking my collarbone, leaving him able to finish without me struggling against him. I couldn't even move I was in so much pain, feeling like my arm was slowly being removed from my body.
He looked at me then, a smile leaching across his face as he came. I can see that face in the dark now, appearing from the deep recesses of my mind to torture me. It said 'I got what I wanted and there was nothing you could do about it' and I recoiled in disgust.
"Have you noticed changes to your daily lifestyle?" MacKenzie had finally put down his pen. Yeah I have to sleep with the lights on, that is, when I actually do sleep. I've also mistaken Daniel for the bastard that did this to me. Yes, I'm affected!
"Not particularly." I shook my head slightly. MacKenzie looked at me, not believing a word of it.
Scarface dropped me in a painful heap to the ground when he finally withdrew, stepping back to straighten his clothing. My eyes couldn't focus I was so in shock, completely disbelieving what had just happened. A large boot on my thigh turned me towards the tiles and I screamed more from the pain of my shoulder hitting the floor than from anything else. Please tell me you're not going to do anything else to me, please! His hands grabbed at my wrists, jostling my arm just enough to incapacitate me with anguish. Pulling loose what he had tied me with, my arms fell to my sides, and slowly I began to breathe again. I faintly heard the retreat of his footsteps and the tap on the door before I was blind again. This is nuts, this can't be happening, this is nuts, this is nuts...
Oh God! It felt like an invisible hand had reached out to grab my chest, squeezing and pulling, choking from the inside out. The bottom fell out as it hit me. Oh my God! I tried to sit up, dragging on my clothes as best as possible, my stomach revolting at what had just happened. Dry heaving was wretched enough but crying at the same time left me breathless and in excruciating pain. I cradled my right arm, curling up against the wall as best as I could.
I have never felt so alone my whole entire life. Those hundred forty-four square feet felt like miles; the only thing present was the wall, the darkness, and myself. The visions began then, my eyes having nothing to focus on except for the endless black. I tried to think of anything else, but it always came back to that look upon his face. I wanted Jack, Daniel, Teal'c or anybody to come and tell me it was all a bad nightmare, that it really didn't happen, and that I was still back at SGC.
Oh God Jack, where are you? Please help me! I cried until I ran out of tears, my body shaking. Exhausted, I must have passed out on the floor, my body curled up against the wall. Daniel! Teal'c!
"Captain Carter, it is natural to have some side effects to traumatic events such as this. Have you spoken to anybody about it?" In a round about way, he was trying to get me to set up appointments with him. No way in hell I'd be doing that willingly. Dammit, I could get over it. I could get on.
"Dr. Fraiser is the only one who I have told." I wiped at the tears on my face, smoothing a hand though my hair. My fingers played a bit more with the pool of water on the table, and I really wanted a drink but didn't have the ability to get up and get one. If I stood, my legs would have given out.
"I would like to set up some appointments for counseling when you have the opportunity, but at this point I see no reason not to put you back on active duty. I will recommend that you do not go back into the field until your injuries have healed, but I'm sure you have plenty of duties that have been neglected in the lab." He closed the notepad and stood. "I'll have maintenance bring in a towel for that." MacKenzie pointed at the water on the table. I just nodded. He'd file a report and tuck it in some dark spot and hopefully it would all start going away. I wanted things back to normal so bad, but I knew it would be a long time before that would happen.
Watching MacKenzie leave, I realized he hadn't heard the entire story, but then again, I knew he wasn't interested. He had the other testimonials to go on. I was the only one who could talk about what happened to me.
I don't know how much time had transpired between that last meeting with Scarface and when the rescue party showed up, but it was spent in a haze. So weak, I couldn't even lift my head when the light came on again and the only thing that told me I was still alive was the sudden start it gave my heart. Slowly my eyes opened as I heard the approaching sound of footsteps, way too many for a single person. My eyes found their tears again, focusing in on Jack's face.
"Colonel." My mouth moved but I couldn't even whisper. Daniel crouched down next to him and I was thankful he was missing his glasses. Don't think he could have stomached seeing me clearly like this.
"Just relax, Captain. We're going to get you out of here." I wouldn't usually call Jack's voice angelic, but it was then. All I could do was nod. A gentle hand smoothed over my hair and I started crying. It hurt like a sonofabitch, but I didn't care. Those three men were the most beautiful things I had ever seen.
"Sam." Daniel cooed, gently squeezing my hand. Even through his blurry vision, he knew something was really wrong.
"Carter, can you stand?"
"I think so, sir." Swallowing down the rest of my tears, I rolled over onto my back and my ribs protested. Slowly I sat up, cradling my arm. Patiently he waited for me to stand, watching as I took the steps like a toddler; on my knees, then one foot, then the other, his hands out to help me if needed. I stood tall and straight like they had taught me, looking my C.O. in the face. Clearly I know now that look he had for me was one of pride, never of pity. I had survived.
"Permission to faint, sir?" I smiled weakly at him, his face beginning to shadow over with large black spots. My head swam. Teal'c stepped up without prompting, walking around Jack to catch me.
"Granted." I heard him say as my legs gave out, falling backwards into Teal'c's arms. After that it was a blur until I woke up in the infirmary, Dr. Fraiser setting my bones.
I tested my legs, holding myself up with the chair. When they didn't give out on me, I straightened, leaning over the table for the pitcher of water. Pouring myself a half glass, I blew out a held breath, and raised it to my lips. Able to get that down without choking, I poured another and walked toward the blast window. The Gate was immense as it sat, showered in fluorescent lights in a cave of concrete.
Over the last two years, it has brought me such happiness and such sorrow. I didn't regret a moment. Screw space, this was five thousand times better. But some little voice in the back of my head was telling me that I could be living a normal life with a husband, two point five kids, a dog, and a white picket fence. The little voice was asking me what I would do with myself if the project ever got shut down and quickly I silenced it. There was no need to be talking like that.
Taking another sip of water, I looked down, watching Daniel walk into the embarkation room. He glanced up and saw me, a hand raising from his pocket to cautiously wave at me. Badly in need of a hair cut again, I couldn't help but smile at him, lifting my glass in salute. He motioned for me to come down, to join him near the Gate. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. I had friends who cared for me. I could get over this.
Nodding, I lifted a finger to ask him to wait, turning around to set the glass on the table. Cascading down the spiral staircase, I wasn't sure what I was doing, what I'd say to him, I just knew I didn't want to be alone right then. I rubbed my face one last time to remove all traces of tears before stepping into the control room. He walked into the door as I walked toward it.
"Sam. Hi." He smiled at me, his hands slipping back into his pockets. Looking down at his feet, he kicked at an imaginary object.
"What's up, Daniel?"
"Well the rest of the gang were thinking about going out to dinner tonight, to get off the base for a bit. We wanted to know if you'd like to join us." I wondered if he had elected himself for this or if he had drawn the short straw.
"Where you going?" Something low-key would be perfect. Christ, we looked like we just had a boxing tournament with Mohammed Ali. Probably wouldn't let us into a four-star restaurant even if we had tuxes and a cocktail dress.
"Just the pizza place in town. Don't even have to change out of the camo." He smiled. That was a pleasant thought. I really didn't want to find something that was big enough to fit over my broken bones or spend the half-hour getting dressed. "If you go, it's our treat."
"Okay, I'll go." I couldn't pass up the offer for a free meal. His face beamed triumphantly. I hadn't had pizza in a long time anyway and I couldn't think of a better way to spend my evening. Jack and Daniel would argue over toppings as Teal'c looked on in curiosity, absorbing Earth culture to the fullest. I would look upon my team and think that there really was a family here; two boys, a girl, and a Jaffa. The picket fence could be the Gate and the dog would just have to be a MALP. Seemed like a nice exchange for me. Delusional, I know.
Daniel held the door for me as I followed him out into the embarkation room, heading for the blast door.
"How you feeling? Is the brace helping any?" He was trying to make idle conversation, leading me back towards my room so I could grab my coat.
"Still a little tender and it takes me forever to get dressed." Smiling, I looked over at him, and I wanted so much to apologize to him, to say I was sorry for the other night. Swallowing harshly, I touched his arm. "Daniel, I-"
"Yeah Sam?" Stopping, he turned towards me, his hand slipping up to touch my elbow.
"I'm sorry about the other night...I don't know what came over me."
"Oh Sam, you don't have to apologize for that. You've been under a lot of stress lately, I can understand. I'm just hope you feel a bit better." He shook his head adamantly, a gentle hand squeezing my elbow. Leave it to Daniel to let me walk all over him and not think twice about it. I smiled.
"Thanks, Daniel." Two figures lurked in the hallway across from my door; the tall one leaning against the wall, the big bulky one standing in the middle next to him. The pair was unmistakably the Colonel and Teal'c.
"Captain Carter, glad you decided to join us." Jack nodded at me, pushing himself off of the wall with his shoulders.
"Free food? You bet I wouldn't miss it, Colonel." He shot a look at Daniel, who turned from him, blushing.
"Oh, you mean Daniel's picking up the tab? Alright!" Daniel wasn't amused. Opening my door, I turned on the light and walked inside to grab my jacket. Not thinking, I stepped in front of the mirror to check my hair, and it immediately unsettled me. Raising a hand to my cheek, I touched the large purplish welt on my skin. Slowly my fingertips moved to the taped over stitches near my hairline.
"Carter, you're beautiful." A voice jarred me from the garish figure in the mirror and slowly I turned. Jack smiled at me, leaning on the door jam. I blushed and shook my head. "Come on, don't keep a couple of hungry guys waiting." Backing out, he waited for me. Sometimes he knows exactly what to say to make me feel better.
We climbed into the borrowed humvee; Jack driving with Teal'c in the passenger seat, Daniel and I in back. I felt like a little kid going on a long distance car trip.
"Are we there yet?" I whined even before Jack had turned the key.
"Carter, can it." I could see his eyes from the rear view mirror and I smirked. He just shook his head. With a large growl the vehicle came to life and Papa Jack drove us downtown. It was definitely not a street truck by any means, jostling you around like popcorn in a fryer. By the time you got done with your trip, you needed a three-hour nap to recover. There was no way to be inconspicuous even if you wanted to. It drew attention like a sore thumb and I was surprised, by how Jack drove, that we hadn't caused a mass pile up on the highway. Daniel's knuckles were white as he grabbed onto the harness bars when we finally pulled into the parking lot.
"Everybody out!" I was looking forward to an evening out of my room. Breathing deep as I could the fresh air, I hugged myself through the slight chill.
"Teal'c, Daniel, why don't you get us a table?" Jack suggested, going over the vehicle to make sure it was locked down like Fort Knox. Five of his retirement pensions could never buy one of those and he wasn't about to give it opportunity for it to happen. I wandered towards Teal'c and Daniel, eager to sit down.
"Carter, can I speak with you for a moment?" I spun on a heel. He waved me over and I glanced over my shoulder at Teal'c and Daniel who were approaching the entrance.
"What is it, sir?" Idly he played with the windshield wiper as he leaned against the side panel and hood. Something milled behind those deep eyes of his, running its path through redundant checks and balances, making sure he wasn't going to say more than was needed. His jaw flexed.
"Sir?"
"Quiet Carter, I'm thinking." A slow smile crossed his lips and I shook my head.
"Don't hurt yourself, sir." He looked in disbelief that I had just said that to him. I felt my face blush violently. Must be the lack of sleep effecting my humor to the point of being sarcastic.
"Watch it." He wagged a finger at me and I stared laughing. Jack just shook his head. Slowly the smile disappeared from his lips and he stood up straight, fiddling with the keys. "Carter..."
It was strange to watch as the emotions passed over his face, his eyes searching through mine. Approaching the point of being uncomfortable, I looked down. He stepped forward and touched my shoulder gently.
"Carter, I'm proud of you." Five little words that made my heart melt. He was saying it as honestly as he could, and I knew what he meant. It may have sounded belittling to anybody else, but coming from Jack, it meant a lot. He wasn't a poet, and probably never would be, but he was trying to tell me that I had served the team well and he still didn't doubt my abilities even with what had happened. I felt my eyes start to fill with tears and I was glad it was starting to get dark.
"Thank you, sir." I choked out the words, looking down into my hands. He nodded his head once and smiled.
"So what do you like on your pizza anyway? Anchovies?" His arm slipped over my shoulder, spinning me towards the building.
"Actually yes."
"Oh God, Carter! How could you?" Jack's face wrinkled up and he mock choked.
"Sorry sir." He held the door open for me and I walked in, searching through the crowd for the other two.
"Table for two?" A pretty waitress stood in front of us, clutching a menu to her chest.
"Er, no. We're with two other people. Geeky guy with glasses and a hulky body-builder type. Came in a couple of minutes ago." Jack spoke up, dropping his arm from my shoulder.
"Right this way folks." Daniel was describing the finer points of Crayons when we crossed to the table. He picked up the few that were in a cup on the table.
"If they are not edible, why do you have them at the table." I smiled. Teal'c would never understand.
"It's to entertain the kids before the food comes. Flip over the place mat, and voilá, you've got a clean piece of paper to doodle on."
"Doodle?"
"Yes, doodle. Draw. You know." Daniel mimicked with a nice purple shade.
"That color's really you, Danny. Goes nicely with your eyes." Jack teased, pulling out a chair for me. Daniel looked up, sighing deeply in annoyance. He continued on with the dissertation of pre-meal rituals as if Teal'c had never been to a restaurant before. I looked at Jack and he looked at me, and we shrugged.
With all the horror I had endured the past couple of days, somehow I knew it was going to be okay. It would take time, but good things usually did. I would just have to live for times like these to spread light into the darkness and heal over my wounds. Counting my blessings, I looked at my three teammates and knew I was lucky. Damn lucky to live and to have friends like these. I will always have this no matter what you do to me! I will survive. I will live in fame or go down in flames, hey! Nothing'll stop Captain Samantha Carter!
*****
The End.
Story Notes: Email: ksiegfri@greece.k12.ny.us or sg1flygirl@yahoo.com
Category: Drama, Angst, Action-Adventure.
Spoilers: Teeny tiny ones for "Children of The Gods," "Cold Lazarus," "Matter of Time," "The First Commandment," and "Need." (I mean a few-one line references. You won't really loose anything from the story if you haven't seen the second season episodes.)
Season Info: Near end of Second Season.
Rating: NC-17 for graphic violence, rape, and language.
Content Warning: **WARNING** The following story contains graphic violence and rape. If you are offended by this type of imagery, DO NOT read! I repeat, this story contains extremely graphic violence and the depiction of rape. DO NOT read if you do not like this type of story or are underage.
Summary: An alpha reconn mission to a new planet results in capture of SG-1. Captain Carter is violated and the team must come to terms with the ordeal.
Disclaimer: STARGATE SG-1 and its characters are property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the concent of the author.
Author's Note: This is a cumulation of different points of view. Dr. Fraiser, Teal'c, Colonel O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, and Captain Carter all have their say. I got the idea for it after remembering one graphic part from "G.I. Jane." The characters, especially Colonel O'Neill and Captain Carter, discuss the role of women in the military or in a war-like society. I took quite a bit of creative license in filling out details about a few of the characters' lives prior to joining SG-1. If you have definite proof that I am incorrect, please let me know.
Category: Drama, Angst, Action-Adventure.
Spoilers: Teeny tiny ones for "Children of The Gods," "Cold Lazarus," "Matter of Time," "The First Commandment," and "Need." (I mean a few-one line references. You won't really loose anything from the story if you haven't seen the second season episodes.)
Season Info: Near end of Second Season.
Rating: NC-17 for graphic violence, rape, and language.
Content Warning: **WARNING** The following story contains graphic violence and rape. If you are offended by this type of imagery, DO NOT read! I repeat, this story contains extremely graphic violence and the depiction of rape. DO NOT read if you do not like this type of story or are underage.
Summary: An alpha reconn mission to a new planet results in capture of SG-1. Captain Carter is violated and the team must come to terms with the ordeal.
Disclaimer: STARGATE SG-1 and its characters are property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the concent of the author.
Author's Note: This is a cumulation of different points of view. Dr. Fraiser, Teal'c, Colonel O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, and Captain Carter all have their say. I got the idea for it after remembering one graphic part from "G.I. Jane." The characters, especially Colonel O'Neill and Captain Carter, discuss the role of women in the military or in a war-like society. I took quite a bit of creative license in filling out details about a few of the characters' lives prior to joining SG-1. If you have definite proof that I am incorrect, please let me know.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]