Collateral Damage
Collateral Damage
by Jodi Marie
Summary: Jack dealing with things as he usually does, badly, this time with good reason.
Category: Adult, Hurt/Comfort
Season: any Season
Pairing(s): none
Rating: 13+
Content: f/f, m/m, adult themes/mature scenes, graphic sex, language, rape/non consensual sex
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
Archived on: 12/02/03
Thanks to my wonderful betas; Michelle and Pammy; your input was most appreciated. Thanks also to Nanda, for further inspiration, bad though it may be ;) and to Charli for the title.
"You know it must be done."
The General shook his head. "He is an offworlder, it would be wrong."
"Wrong? And you do not feel it is wrong when one of our own people is chosen?"
"That's different. Our people are protected by maintaining the political status quo. If one of them must take part then so be it. It is their duty that our ruler be kept happy and as long as Ranos is happy and occupied he will be content to allow us the latitude we have come to enjoy."
"Exactly. It will be no different with the offworlder- in fact, better. When it is over he will simply leave, even the problem of confidentiality will be solved, he will not be here to speak of it."
"He won't cooperate. He's not one of us, there is no motivation to comply or loyalty involved."
"We have used substances before to make the subjects more agreeable."
"Drug him? You mean to use him against his will?"
"As we have done before."
The only response was a great deep sigh.
"You will give the order then?"
"I will."
For once O'Neill was really enjoying a diplomatic mission. Daniel as usual was at a local museum and buried up to his eyeballs in ancient manuscripts while Carter picked the brains of their scientists regarding their methods of energy production. Teal'c hung out with Carter in case he could recognize anything as similar to Goa'uld technology. Ordinarily that would leave O'Neill alone and bored.
This time was a different story. From the moment of their first meeting O'Neill hit it off with the country's leader: Ranos. Although he must have had responsibilities and governmental duties to see to, he'd been more than happy to forego his usual schedule and show off his city to O'Neill. Instead of the power plants and research facilities O'Neill expected to see, their first stop was a club hosting a sporting event that was their version of soccer. O'Neill was delighted to meet someone with a similar propensity for play. For days the two men were inseparable.
It was only after taking part in a somewhat muddy version of field hockey Jack began to notice his host was being possibly a little 'too' friendly.
They were worn out from the strenuous activity but so filthy a shower and change of clothes was in order before settling down for the evening. O'Neill was more than looking forward to a cold jug of ale and another story from Ranos' vast repertoire.
The clubhouse was simply designed with cubicles that served as lockers and the requisite showers and whirlpool tubs for loosening up sore muscles. O'Neill shed his borrowed clothes and picked up two towels; wrapping one around his hips and tossing the other over his shoulder, then headed for the shower area.
Ranos was already there rinsing the shampoo out of his hair and peeked out from under his hands at his alien friend. "Jack! About time you showed up to bathe. I think you like being dirty."
O'Neill glanced around the room noting everyone else had already gone; they were alone. "It's not the 'being' as much as the 'getting there'. Great game, Rani."
Ranos smiled at the diminutive name O'Neill had begun to use for him. It wasn't any fewer syllables but he'd noticed O'Neill call Teal'c, 'T' and accepted it as a quirky expression of fondness by the human.
O'Neill hung up the towels on a wall hook and chose one of the showers a few sections away from where Ranos was standing. There were no walls or partitions of any kind so the two were still in full view of each other. O'Neill dutifully ignored it and turned on the water to a comfortable level of warmth.
As he showered he winced slightly at the crook in his neck and began to massage it with one hand. He'd taken a particularly nasty tumble and landed with two other players on top of him. His neck had taken the full force of three body weights for a few seconds until they rolled off him.
Suddenly from just behind him O'Neill felt hands on either side of his neck massaging the sore muscles. He instinctively pulled away from the contact.
"I saw that fall; I'm surprised you didn't break something."
Jack turned his head to look at Ranos. "I'm tougher than I look."
"You 'look' quite well."
What was that supposed to mean? O'Neill took a step away from Ranos and turned to halfway face him. Although he could deal with being in the same room with another naked man, being right next to one was unsettling. Having one to touch him was completely unacceptable. Ranos moved forward to where he was now standing more in the spray than O'Neill. As he did so his hip brushed up against the other man and his hand slid up the wet arm and rested on O'Neill's shoulder.
O'Neill twitched involuntarily at the wet skin to skin contact, especially of the hips. "It's all right." He leaned his shoulder away. "You don't have to do that."
When Ranos didn't back off it gave O'Neill pause. "I, ah, think I'm done."
"Suit yourself." Ranos walked around behind him a little too close and O'Neill felt the other mans fingers run across his shoulders.
O'Neill turned to say something, probably insulting, definitely enough to get himself kicked off the planet, but was stopped by the smiling face of Ranos as he held up a twig he'd plucked out of O'Neill's hair.
"Shit."
"Shampoo. Over there." Ranos tossed the twig to the floor, now grinning. "You really have no cause to be shy, you know, you are quite fit." His eyes lowered just that far then came up again.
Before O'Neill could close his gapping mouth and answer, Ranos was striding away from him and grabbing a towel. "I'll see you outside in a few minutes. Don't take too long, we have a full evening ahead of us."
O'Neill grabbed the shampoo and growled to himself as he finished bathing; he felt like a fool for missing something so blatantly obvious; the attention Ranos had lavished on him over the past several days was not entirely platonic.
The rest of the evening O'Neill stayed slightly more aloof from his friend than before; in a way he still liked the man, it was just hard to figure out how to handle this without creating an international, no make that interplanetary incident; this was still a diplomatic mission and folks at the Pentagon would be highly 'pissed' if it were screwed up after all the work that had gone into it, not to mention the ire he'd raise in Carter and Jackson if their access to the culture and technology were curtailed. SG-1 was the third team to visit and technology exchanges were already well underway. The other thing had to with his male bravado. If the Marines at the SGC ever got wind of the situation, they'd rib him endlessly for it. That, more than anything was the deciding factor. He determined the prudent thing to do was retreat; go home, preferably as soon as possible, and foret it ever happened.
Ranos wasn't pleased but conceded eventually since they were only scheduled to stay one more night anyway. Carter was basically done with the scientists and though Daniel could have easily stayed another month, he admitted he had enough to keep him busy until the next ice age; so SG-1 departed.
One of the Generals insisted they be seen off by a small delegation and it seemed to go well enough until the 'gate was activated. O'Neill was standing behind Carter as she dialed the DHD while Daniel and Teal'c waited on the other side of the steps.
The two men went up first and paused next to the event horizon until O'Neill and Carter were almost to the top of the steps before going on through. Just as O'Neill's foot landed on the main platform something happened. Two men appeared from either side of the Stargate, and suddenly there was a lot of pushing and shoving. O'Neill was forced to tumble back down the steps, tangling with the blanket that was thrown over him and Carter was shoved the opposite direction, into the wormhole.
She emerged on the other side stepping through clumsily and turned quickly to face the event horizon. It closed almost immediately and she found herself staring at the blank space it occupied only a moment before.
"Major. Where's Colonel O'Neill?"
If there were words in the English language that Carter would not have wanted to hear right now Hammond had found them. "Sir?" She turned to face him. "He was right beside me."
Hammond frowned. "Any reason he would have stayed behind?"
The Major shook her head, "As we approached the wormhole the Colonel walked up the steps next to me. At the last second someone pushed me in and I'm sure it wasn't him."
The General's eyebrows went up. "I thought this was a peaceful planet. What happened out there?"
Daniel shrugged. "Well, nothing actually. They are peaceful. We all had a great time."
"It was O'Neill who determined we should return several hours early." Hammond frowned as Teal'c spoke; he'd been a little surprised O'Neill had convinced his scientists to leave even a miunute before the scheduled time.
"I find it odd he should make this decision and then stay behind himself. Is it possible Colonel O'Neill was forced to stay against his will?" The question from Teal'c caused the others to stare at him.
"Isn't that a little paranoid? I mean I know there wasn't much for you to do," Daniel waved his palm toward the Jaffa, "but, surely you agree he couldn't possibly be in any danger."
"I do not. Their society is like any other, with both positive and negative elements. They would be as capable of criminal activity as any other race. We should return immediately."
Hammond looked to Carter for confirmation. "They were pretty open with us; they have an average society with all the usual problems, including politics, and the Colonel did spend a lot of time with their leader. Maybe that was a problem- or not." She shrugged.
"Let's move off the ramp." Hammond gestured over his shoulder. "If he doesn't come through in five minutes I want you back there to recon the immediate 'gate area. If O'Neill isn't there you are to return home for a proper briefing. Understood? In the morning we'll contact the local authorities and see if they can assist. That will also give us time to get another team ready to go. If this turns into a rescue mission, I want more than just SG-1 involved."
The three SG-1 members all nodded their acknowledgement.
After an hour of search, Carter redialed the 'gate with nothing new to tell Hammond. Colonel O'Neill was simply gone.
O'Neill was surprised by the ability of his captors to subdue him so easily. To them it had been anything but. It took three men to hold him down and they were yet in danger of losing him until a fourth stuck a moistened and foul smelling rag to his nose and made him inhale the fumes. He knew what it would do and tried to hold his breath and fight, but there was no time, in only seconds he'd passed out.
He woke with an aching head a short time later having been relieved of his jacket, vest, pack, and all his weapons. When he tried to sit up his head swam and he collapsed back onto the soft mattress.
Mattress?
His eyes flew open for a second and his hands reached out on either side of him to feel the luxurious bedding material. Every time something like this had happened before, he woke in some dank cell or vacant room. He tried to get up again but was stopped by a firm hand on his chest. A female voice spoke to him gently. "You must not get up yet, you were injured. No one will hurt you here." She slid one hand under his head and held a cup to his lips. "Drink this."
He tried to object but was still too groggy and swallowed the liquid as she poured it into his mouth. The alcohol in it nearly made him gag but she insisted he drain the cup. As soon as he finished she left the bedside and went to the door. He fought through the cobwebs in his head hear what she was saying.
"It is done."
"Good. Wait several minutes then go to Ranos. Tell him our guest has decided not to leave just yet and that he would enjoy seeing him again."
The door clicked shut with the unmistakable slide of a bolt.
Instead of the cloudiness in his brain abating it was getting worse. O'Neill went over in his head what the woman said. What was done? Had she put something in the drink? He knew about drugs back on Earth that seemed to make one appear drunk but in fact caused the taker to become pliant and vastly open to suggestion and have no memory of anything that occurred while under the influence of the substance. Despite his training and attempts to fight it the drug won and he slipped back into unconsciousness.
When O'Neill woke again he wasn't in a bed or even a room; he squinted up at the early morning sky as the sun came up over the horizon. He could see the 'gate off a short distance away and groggily got up and headed in that direction, stumbling as he went. He leaned heavily on the DHD and began to dial but before he completed the sequence the wormhole came to life and SG-1 and 4 stepped out into the sunshine.
Daniel strode immediately to the DHD, waving his arms. "Jack! Where the Hell have you been?"
He was more awake and gaining his composure now. "Apparently right here."
"No, you weren't." Carter looked at him, frowning. "When you didn't come through we came back to look for you. Sir, you weren't anywhere in the 'gate area, even several local people hadn't seen you."
"So, no rescue needed, huh? Just a little AWOL activity?" Colonel Reynolds joined the conversation.
O'Neill glared at him. "And I'm just fine, thanks for asking."
"So where's your sidearm?"
O'Neill's hand immediately went to his thigh. The P-90 was in its usual place on the strap around his neck, but the Berretta was missing. "Shit." He patted himself down quickly and huffed out a breath of relief when he found it tucked in a vest pocket.
Reynolds just looked back at him sternly. Not once had he known O'Neill to loose track of a weapon. Ever. "What say we go home? I'm sure the General will have a few questions for you."
O'Neill stood for a moment and looked back at the city; something was very wrong. "Yeah, I guess. I've got a feeling I haven't seen the last of this place though."
Doctor Fraiser was particularly thorough in her exam of O'Neill. He'd briefed with Hammond first since he was in no obvious distress and per Hammond's orders her priority was to determine what had happened to the Colonel's memory. He couldn't have just been asleep the whole time he was missing.
She snapped off her gloves and made a quick notation in the chart. "Well, Colonel, so far nothing. We'll have to wait for the CT and blood work results. There aren't any obvious punctures so if you were drugged it was either by inhalation or ingestion."
"Inhalation?"
"You know, the old 'Chloroform' on a rag thing." She made a motion with her hand to her mouth.
Her explanation sparked a memory in him. "Yeah, they did that. I remember." He frowned and looked down at his hands. "I don't think that was all though. I think I drank something too. You'll find it in my blood?"
"Well, maybe." Her eyebrows arched. "There are a lot of substances out there, and you were missing for nearly twelve hours. The amount still in your blood might be too small to detect."
When he frowned again she touched his arm. "We'll figure it out. Something happened, you're not the type to take a siesta for no reason. If you remember anything, tell me, Okay? You don't know what may help us figure this out."
His silence and avoiding her eyes made her look more closely at him. "Do you remember something?"
He glanced at her quickly then looked away. "No. It's nothing."
"Colonel."
"It's not a memory. It's just-"
She waited for him to finish and when he didn't she moved to stand directly in front of him. "You want to know. I want to know. Help me."
He looked up at her and sighed with resignation. "It's something... physical."
At her less than patient expression he continued, speaking rapidly to get the words out before he changed his mind. "I'm sore in places I shouldn't be."
At once her demeanor changed and her voice grew soft. There was something and it was obviously difficult for him to talk about it. "Where?" She wondered what she had missed.
He rolled his eyes. "Where do you often defer to examine unless given a reason?"
The answer was clear; she did not routinely do genital and rectal exams in post mission physicals. She didn't say a word and quickly pulled the curtain around the bed then grabbed up a pair of gloves and a tube of lubricant from the storage shelves against the wall.
Before she began she looked him in the eye to make sure he was prepared for the intrusion into his privacy. He nodded once and she pulled back the sheets.
She poked and prodded all the appropriate spots and didn't find much out of the ordinary except for a couple patches of abraded skin and a little swelling. "Forgive me, Sir, but I need to ask. Have you been intimate with anyone recently?"
"No."
"Rashes, chafing, changed the soap you use?"
"No."
"This, 'soreness', was it here yesterday?"
"No."
"Anywhere else?"
"Yes." His eyes closed.
"Oh." She paused a moment and replaced the covering over him. "I'll need you to turn on your side to complete the examination."
Without a word he complied, bending his knees up to give her better access.
At the first touch he shuddered and stiffened his entire body. Even for the genital exam he'd been more relaxed. Fraiser touched his shoulder lightly. "I need to get a better look. It hurts that bad?"
"It's okay." His actions did not back up his words. She watched as he hunched his shoulders and wrapped his arms around himself protectively just as she'd seen Daniel do a hundred times. "I'll take it slow, here, is that Okay?"
He nodded.
She wasn't surprised to find evidence of trauma. The opening was swollen and there was a tiny amount of blood indicating at least a small tear somewhere, most likely inside. There wasn't truly enough damage to warrant his response however. He flinched at her barest movement as if he couldn't stand to be touched.
Finally done, she pulled up the sheet and held it in place so he could turn on his back. As their eyes met she noted his questioning expression.
"I can't say anything definitive just yet, you know that. First impressions?"
O'Neill nodded.
"You say you haven't been intimate recently."
"Not to my knowledge." He was choosing his words carefully.
"And that includes any type of intimacy?"
"It does." His eyes narrowed and darkened.
She licked her lips and blew out a breath. "Sir, have you ever heard of Rohypnol, also called Ecstasy."
"The 'date-rape' drug."
"Yes." She forced herself to maintain eye contact with him using her professionalism as a barrier to what she had to say. "Sir, there is evidence you have had a sexual encounter with another male. Whether you remember it or not, I have reason to believe it may have happened. I have collected a tissue sample from inside your rectum, if it's positive for semen, I'm quite sure it will not be yours."
Every muscle fiber in his body tensed as he forced himself to maintain control. "And the drug, can you find it?"
"If what they used is anything chemically similar to Rohypnol, it will show up in a urinalysis. I'll request the sample you've already provided be checked."
His arms folded defensively across his chest again. "How soon will you know?"
"A couple hours on the tissue sample, but we'll have to send the urine out to a lab in town. We might get the results by morning. "
"And you will inform Hammond, when?"
She felt like she was being interrogated but forced herself to be tolerant given the circumstances. "He's in a series of meetings on one of the upper levels this afternoon anyway, so I'll wait on the tissue sample. It is possible I'm completely mistaken about the cause and I wouldn't want to report until I have a little something more." She shook her head slightly. "You do realize the likelihood of getting a definitive answer is low at best. I may never be able to tell you for a certainty what happened."
O'Neill's expression didn't change but inside his mind was moving at light speed. He'd been violated in the worst way he could possibly imagine and left with no memory of it and possibly no direct evidence whatsoever, still he knew beyond a doubt it had happened. His fists clenched hidden beneath his arms.
"For now," Fraiser continued, "I want you to stay put. I'm going to start you on some antibiotics and like it or not giving you some pain medication. You are injured and you are hurting. I will not have that. Also I'll have one of the nurses fetch you an ice pack; the swelling isn't too bad but a little ice couldn't hurt. "
He nodded, completely oblivious to the words she was speaking. If Hammond was out of communication it was doubtful any teams were due to depart or return. The control room would have only one or two technicians on duty. He only hoped Carter wasn't doing some 'maintenance' thing. All he really needed was five minutes to get in and through the 'gate. He had a few questions and he was sure Ranos had all the answers he needed.
As predicted the 'gate room was barely staffed and luckily Carter was nowhere in sight. It took longer to extricate himself from the infirmary than it did to commandeer the control room and once there he had both technicians out on 'errands' within two minutes.
In two more he was striding up the ramp geared up with only his ball cap, a GDO and his Berretta tucked in his pants beneath his jacket. Ranos was lucky he didn't choose to bring a P-90 as well. As an afterthought before he left the control room he'd input the commands to begin a level three diagnostic as soon as the 'gate shut down and deleted the password file; there were some things that could even slow down Carter. He knew he could never again say 'you know me and computers' in her presence.
O'Neill walked straight out of the 'gate and headed to Ranos' home; it was the middle of the day but it was the best place to start.
He found the leader relaxing in the courtyard playing with his two cat-like pets.
"Ranos!"
"Jack! I can't believe you've returned!" Ranos' excitement was evident; he smiled broadly at his friend.
O'Neill drew the Berretta as he marched forward and jacked the slide in one smooth motion. He leveled it right between Ranos' eyes. "Why did you do it?"
"What? What are you talking about?" The man's voice squeaked.
"The drug, the abduction, " he paused, "and whatever else you did."
"But you requested, agreed. You didn't object." The sweat began to bead up on his forehead.
"I was drugged!"
"I didn't know!"
"Goddamn, shit!" O'Neill lowered the weapon and spun away then turned back to the man. "How could you possibly have not known? Is it customary for you to entertain guests like this?"
Ranos stiffened. Slightly more confident with no weapon currently pointed at him. "Sometimes. I admit not everyone shares my choice of companionship. Occasionally when someone is interested but cannot quite make the final step they need help to relax. It can be provided. What's a little inebriation between friends?"
O'Neill was not amused. "You mean stoned to the point of amnesia?"
"You don't remember?"
"No!" O'Neill yelled it.
"Then why are you so angry? Pity, though, at the time you seemed to enjoy it."
"Fuck!" The Berretta found its mark again.
"I swear, I meant no harm! I liked you!" Ranos cringed and then suddenly straightened his shoulders. O'Neill knew without the shadow of a doubt the house guards were standing behind him with their weapons trained on the back of his head.
Hammond was furious; not only was his 2IC AWOL again, he'd gone through the 'gate and assaulted the leader of an alien world. True, he had a good reason, and God knows the General felt as though he could have done the same when Fraiser explained the situation; O'Neill was almost a son to him, but right now he didn't have the luxury of acting like an irate father. The Colonel was imprisoned on a perfectly legitimate charge and the authorities were refusing any dialog. Hammond didn't know if it was out of embarrassment or anger, but Ranos wasn't talking. After finally convincing the Monarch their tentative alliance was worth keeping, he agreed to allow a small delegation to return.
Carter, Teal'c and Daniel met with Ranos soon afterward and he told them O'Neill attacked him for no reason. As far as he was concerned the man had gone mad and he was doing them a favor by incarcerating him.
When Carter was finally allowed to speak she outlined for Ranos what they thought must have happened to O'Neill although the reason behind it and anything that occurred while he was unconscious was still a mystery.
"I can clear that up for you, Major. First of all, you are quick to assume wrongdoing. As I see it, the only issue is that someone forced you to go through the 'gate a few seconds sooner than you would have anyway. You did not actually 'see' your Colonel attacked and if as he claims he was intoxicated, his testimony would be invalid anyway. You said yourself you do not know what happened. All you know is that as you and Colonel O'Neill prepared to leave someone came between you and he turned away from the 'gate. The fact he did not follow you in no way implies he was prevented from doing so."
Carter's hands clenched as she spoke. She hadn't been privy to that piece of information about O'Neill's condition. Intoxication didn't sound right but drugging would certainly have been possible. She considered his words. "Something may have interfered with his memory but it is for certain he had no reason to stay."
"I beg to differ from your opinion. As you recall Jack and I spent much time together touring the city. I admit I was taken with him and did request he join me at my home."
Carter cringed at his familiar use of the Colonel's name. "Yes, and that was when the decision was made that we leave."
"A decision that you leave."
"Us? Why would he do that?" Daniel asked.
"I believe Jack felt prevented from accepting my offer while maintaining his role as your leader. He had to see to your safe departure before he could do so. In fact he did return and not only did he accept my offer, he extended one of his own, a request, if I may say so, I found to be most agreeable. In my position it is rare that anyone is bold enough to make requests of me. I found it most gratifying to consort with one of a standing that rivals my own." His eyes lowered to the table and he continued in a more somber tone. "Perhaps that is why I was so ill prepared for his change of demeanor."
The three members of SG-1 stared at him in shock; what he implied was beyond believable.
O'Neill sat with his back against the wall and his arms wrapped around his knees. There wasn't even a cot in the crappy cell where they'd thrown him and the floor was so dank and smelly he refused to lie down. He'd been there for hours already with no food or water and not even a look from one of the guards. He wondered if they intended to forget they'd put him in there.
Some time later he heard the sounds of doors opening and being relocked and men talking. The main door to the cellblock suddenly flew open and four men entered. O'Neill recognized two of them as men who had accompanied him and his team to the Stargate. He even knew two of them by name. At the sight of them he stood, his back against the wall maintaining the greatest possible distance between them. He assessed them quickly. Dre'nor held a length of chain in his hands and the taller of the two, Chogan, was hiding something under his long coat, possibly a weapon missed by the guards, and all were smiling. O'Neill winced; he had a feeling something malevolent was behind their mirth. Though he still couldn't remember much of what had happened to him, he knew these men were involved. They'd probably been the ones who initially drugged him and set this whole thing in motion. His blood still boiled in anger for being violated in such a way. "Why did you do it?" He growled at them.
The tall man grinned. "Why not tell you? Money. To gain political favor. What would you have me say? Our leader has distinct tastes and he can be most generous when satisfied. Your cooperation was assured through the use of a common and perfectly legal substance."
"You however have become a disappointment. All you needed to do was get up and leave. Go through the Stargate and never return. No one need know of your tryst, to your friends you were just missing overnight, no harm done."
The words hit home to O'Neill, what he'd suspected was exactly what had happened. "How can you say that? What you did to me, what happened because of it is a crime of the highest magnitude on my world. It's not something I can just forget about."
"Sorry to hear you say that. It would have been the easiest way. Now Ranos is questioning even his most trusted associates; he is most angry at the threat you made to his life."
"Sounds like you needed a little shaking up. Forgive me if I don't shed any tears for you."
"Oh, you yet may." The man spat the words out venomously. O'Neill's heart sank as he saw the muzzle of a weapon pointed at him. A moment later he saw the man's finger tighten on the trigger and was surprised there was no resounding blast immediately following. There was a loud popping noise though and sudden twinge in his chest. He looked down to see feathers of a dart sticking out of his T-shirt and collapsed to the floor before he could make a move to pull it out.
O'Neill awoke to a hard kick to his side and found himself lying on that horrid smelling floor with his nose right on it. His hands were tied behind his back and he rolled to one side moaning. He noticed he'd been moved to another room, this one with a table and two rickety looking chairs.
"Glad to see you're awake, we wouldn't want to start without you."
"What are you doing?" O'Neill croaked out the words.
"Since you came back to satisfy your ailing memory, it is only right we provide you with additional ones to make up for what you lost."
"Nice of you, but really-" The boot contacted his flank again and knocked the breath out of him.
"Take him."
O'Neill was dragged to his feet and slammed against the wall, crushing his hands behind him. The two men holding him ignored the awkward position of his arms and forced his shoulders back causing the Colonel to grunt in pain. There was the sound of a metal clinking against metal as Dre'nor wrapped the chain around his gloved fist creating a weapon of sorts. The effectiveness of which was demonstrated as he struck O'Neill solidly in the abdomen.
The breath was forced out of him as his body yielded between the fist in front and the wall behind. Dre'nor grinned at the pleasant 'oof' sound it produced. O'Neill struggled against the arms holding him but was unable to free himself.
The fist landed again, directly over his breastbone. This time he cursed.
Dre'nor continued the pummeling until O'Neill was too busy trying to breathe to complain and his T-shirt was moist with sweat and blood.
"That's enough. We only need to take some of the fight out of him. Bring him here."
Dre'nor smirked and unwrapped the chain from his hand. As the others supported their victim he slid the chain around O'Neill's neck and tugged on it to lead him like an animal.
"You know I have this thing about clichs." Dre'nor gave a quick yank and nearly pulled O'Neill off his feet.
Chogan laughed and grabbed an arm, just keeping O'Neill from impacting his head on the edge of the table. "Not yet, Colonel. You need to stay awake for a few more minutes." With that O'Neill was forced to face the table and lean over it. In his struggle he hardly noticed one of them had yanked down his pants and exposed his lower half. A rough slap on the bare skin alerted him to his predicament and he let out a curse. He repeated his earlier question, this time with force. "Dammit, what the Hell are you doing?"
"Giving you an excuse for your own violence. We too can be violent men."
"I think you've already made your point." A squeak of fear punctuated his final word. He was being held down but managed to lift his head and look over his shoulder. What he saw made a part of him want to die inside. Chogan was standing behind him. His shirt was loose revealing his bare chest and his trousers were dropped just enough to expose his genitals. O'Neill's eyes closed when they fell upon the man's full erection bobbing against his belly.
"No."
The man laughed, "You should have said that to Ranos, you know you never actually did."
"Don't do this."
"He begs?" The laugh turned almost giddy, then Chogan suddenly spoke with utter sobriety. "You know your SG team will make some trade for your release; this may be the only chance we get for satisfaction. You think we won't take it?"
"Please." O'Neill was slowly realizing this wasn't about sexual gratification; it was pure and simple revenge of the most violent kind. They intended to have him just as their leader had done but without the nicety of drug-induced cooperation. He didn't know if he could live with the memories he was about to be given.
He was cuffed hard in the temple and forced to turn his head forward and down to the table. The two men holding him leaned their combined weight onto him, pinning him down, but his legs were still free and he kicked as hard as he could sending Chogan sprawling on the floor.
The big man crawled to his feet cursing and spitting. Suddenly something hard impacted the back of O'Neill's thighs. He yelped as the muscles cramped in response. A moment later a cool and metallic object touched him on the shoulder and he turned toward it to see the end of a heavy pipe. Chogan spoke, very slowly. "I will break both of your legs if you do that again. Understood? Your choice, it won't make any difference to me"
O'Neill groaned and lowered his head to the hard surface.
It began with calloused hands stroking his buttocks and two thumbs pressing downward and inward along the center crease. As they came to his anal opening one hand moved upward and spread him while the other continued down and grasped his genitalia. O'Neill jerked his head up and grunted at the sudden unexpected move. The squeeze was enough to hurt but not injure, just another reminder he was at their mercy, they could castrate him right now and there would be nothing he could do about it.
The hand released him and he blew out a breath of relief. The respite was short-lived though. The next sensation was that of something warm and moist rubbing up and down over his anus. He steeled himself for the inevitable and rested his head on the rough wood. Every bit of his Special Forces psychological training came into play. He had to distance himself from this. Convince himself that while they could do what they wished with his body, his mind was untouchable. And his mind was the most important thing, was what made him to be who he was. The body was only secondary, a container for his real self. In his thoughts he pulled away from the physical world, into blackness, darkness, safety.
Pressure.
The calloused hands gripped his hips and a heavy body leaned against him, the entire brunt of the weight taken at a single point. The pressure increased without pause until O'Neill could feel the heat rise in his face and the vessels throb in his neck. Internally he allowed the sensation to wash over him like a wave crashing on a beach. His body however responded instinctually and prepared to let out a blood-curdling scream. Just as a cry rose in his throat the opening yielded. Instead of a sharp scream of pain O'Neill let out a long moan as he was stretched to allow the man to enter him. The stretching increased to the point of intolerance but then the object stopped then began to retract. It moved outward until nearly at the opening.
Thrust.
The movement was faster and deeper if possible and both men grunted, one in pain and the other with pleasure.
Thrust.
It was slightly better, but barely. The initial stretch left the muscles more able to accept what was coming.
Thrust.
Harder this time but there seemed to be an increase of lubrication so the movement was more sliding than dragging. It would have served Grogan right if he was defecated upon but O'Neill knew it was far more likely to be blood.
His eyes remained closed, a pitiful attempt to separate what was without from what was within. The thrusting continued harder and faster each time, and every time it pinched as his genitals scraped against the rough wood of the table's edge. Idly he wondered how Fraiser would deal with having to pull splinters out of there.
More thrusting, very rapid and without rhythm, accompanied by grunts and heavy breathing. He was aware of the others in the room also breathing more heavily as they took a voyeuristic part in the spectacle. As the incident neared completion he became aware of something else. Ridiculously, despite the pain, his own member was becoming engorged. It seemed so oddly contradictory under the circumstances but the rhythmic massage of his prostate was arousing him. It made the 'pinch'. Much. Worse.
Suddenly it stopped. He could feel droplets of sweat falling on his skin as the now satiated customer shivered and rode out the immediate effects of his release. The beast held its place within him for several seconds then the weight lifted.
He rested his forehead on the wood beneath him and breathed in relief. He'd made it through. Survived. Damn but these guys could teach Baal a thing or two. A cold wet cloth was rubbed over him removing whatever grime and excessive secretions were there, and his own erection began to subside.
Then another hand, smaller but still rough against his skin rested on his right buttock.
It began again.
It was the next day before O'Neill was allowed a visitor and Carter was escorted to his cell. The further she went into the prison the more her fears grew. It was dark and dirty. The cells were not extremely small but there were no windows and the artificial light made everyone's faces appear sickly and greenish. She was taken down several levels to the area where the most dangerous criminals were kept and into a cellblock of six rooms. The guard pointed the way to the last cell in the section but did not accompany her.
She didn't object, in fact she was glad of it; she could more freely speak with her CO.
Only one cell was occupied and it took a moment of scrutiny for her to be sure it was O'Neill curled up on the floor at the point furthest from the door. "Colonel O'Neill?"
At the sound of his name his eyes slowly opened. When he did not respond further she tried again. "Colonel? It's Carter. I'm here, come talk to me." She pressed herself up against the bars and reached one arm through as far as she could.
"Carter?" His brow knit and he licked his lips considering whether this was a hallucination. They'd drugged him more than once to keep him manageable so the possibility existed. He slowly got to his feet and approached the door. She noticed he walked in a crouched stance as if in pain and seemed to be quite unsteady.
He blinked hard several times to clear his eyes as well as his head and reached out to touch the hand extended in his direction. As soon as she could reach him Carter made a grab for his hand and squeezed it tightly pulling him toward her. "Sir, I'm here."
He squeezed it back and a bit more life seemed to be in his eyes as he took the last few steps. "You're here." He reached through the bars and rested his hand lightly on her shoulder.
"We're going to get you out of here."
"Now would be good."
She shook her head. "It's complicated. You do know you're in here for attempted murder?"
He lowered his eyes and nodded. "I wasn't trying to kill him, just get him to talk."
She clutched his hand tighter. "I know. Ranos is saying you attacked him without provocation, that whatever went on between you was by mutual consent."
"If you knew what it was you would never believe that to be true."
She lowered her voice. "We know. Ranos told us, things, even bragged about it. And, no-" She squeezed his hand again. "I don't believe you consented. We're trying to work something out, but he has you and he doesn't want to let you go."
His head lowered and his fingers tightened around her hand. "Since I've been in here I've met with-" He paused. "Men." He paused again and sighed. There was obviously something he wasn't saying. "They were hired, paid to see to it that their esteemed leader is kept happy and satisfied and, I think, completely out of the political arena. I was just their latest tool. They're quite upset with me for trying to get some answers."
"So who are these men?"
"Some are Ranos' aides we've met and others I don't know. I don't think it will help to talk to them, I doubt you'll ever find them now unless-" He paused again, longer this time, "you catch up with them when they come back to 'talk' with me again."
She was quickly putting the pieces together in her head. At least a couple of the men in question must have been the ones who escorted them to the 'gate that night. If she was right he'd been drugged and taken off somewhere. How he ended up having a rendezvous with Ranos and how that fit with the rest of the picture was beyond her. And there was something more, she was sure it had to do with these men. "Are you all right?"
"No."
His candor surprised her and she responded with a hint of panic in her voice. "Sir? What have they done to you?"
He lowered his eyes and looked away from her. "Carter. Just get me out. I don't care if you have to engineer a jailbreak. I can't be here when they come back." He returned his gaze to her. "I can't be here." His voice cracked as he spoke.
She reached through the bars to touch his cheek and he flinched. In that instant she knew. They'd hurt him. Done something so awful he'd had to shut off a part of himself to endure it. There was no way he was spending another night in this place. She swallowed hard. "I have to go."
He said nothing but took a step back from the bars and watched her leave.
She wanted to turn around but forced herself not to. 'Jailbreak, she thought to herself, yeah, I can do that.' All the way to the surface she pondered how to make it happen.
Carter, Daniel and Teal'c entered the prison at a side entrance on the ground floor. O'Neill was being held three floors down in the most secure section of the building. Their 'aces' in the hole turned out to be the people they'd befriended before all of this had happened. Carter's scientist friends had a high enough government clearance to access data files including information about the prison, and Daniel's contact at the museum provided a diagram of the prison layout from the architectural section.
They went in soon after dusk.
Carter took point being careful at every intersection to check for guards. At two guard stations they subdued the sentries with Zats and opened the access ways with keys if found and when not readily available used small C-4 charges to blow the doors.
As they approached the final section Carter nodded to the others. There were only two guards left, both sitting at a small table in the corner playing cards; they never even saw where the Zat blasts came from.
Quickly Daniel rifled through one of the uniforms and located a set of keys; he tossed them to Teal'c who was standing at the cell door. "O'Neill!"
The Colonel stirred and groggily looked up at the dark face towering over him a moment later. "T?"
"It is I." The Jaffa grinned.
Carter was right beside him. "Can you move?"
"No problem." He got to his feet with an assist from Teal'c then immediately swayed and clutched onto the Jaffa. "Um, maybe."
With Teal'c bearing more than half his weight they got him out into the hallway. From there Daniel held him on one side while Teal'c supported the other all the way to the surface. They went back the way they'd come and found the guards were still down from the Zat blasts or gone, probably in fear for their lives at the appearance of this unfamiliar and technologically superior weapon.
They met SG-4 at the 'gate, coming to check up on them. Reynolds increased his pace and strode up to them angrily. "Jack, I'm getting a little bit annoyed with saving your sorry ass every day or so."
Daniel huffed at the man. "We're doing just fine ourselves, thanks. What are you doing here anyway?"
Carter flushed at the sight of them. She'd forgotten she purposefully turned off her radio and had Daniel and Teal'c do the same in case General Hammond called for a report, she wasn't going to give him an opportunity to deny her decision to get O'Neill out; diplomacy just wasn't going to cut it this time.
At the sound of alarms going off far behind them, O'Neill raised his head. "That would be our cue. I think they know I'm gone. We're ready for that 'sorry ass saving' now."
Reynolds grimaced and raised his weapon. "You sure know how to throw a party." He motioned them on to the 'gate and told his men to hang back and take the six.
O'Neill was in less than prime shape on his arrival back at the SGC. His team had seen to it he'd received no further injuries, but what he had was bad enough. As soon as they'd hit the ramp Hammond had called for the Medics and a moment later Fraiser was there with a gurney and two of her team. When the Doctor made a move to make a preliminary examination before taking him to the infirmary O'Neill grasped her hand and stayed it. "Not here," were his only words. She nodded and waved to her staff to move him immediately.
She was two minutes behind her people entering the infirmary and could already hear his voice ordering them off.
"Colonel! You have to be examined."
"That would be you."
"I do have staff you know. I can't do it alone."
He lowered his eyes momentarily. "Please."
The quiet tone of his voice caught her off guard; he'd been so loud and commanding only a moment ago.
"Sir?" Her own voice was just above a whisper. Making personal requests was something Jack O'Neill just did not do; she knew without a doubt something was wrong, who knew what she was going to find this time?
His deep sigh was enough of an answer. Quickly she barked off a few orders to her staff then returned and pulled the curtain around the bed for the maximum amount of privacy. "Where should we start?"
"At the beginning, as usual."
She wasn't entirely pleased but complied. She would see soon enough whatever had compelled him to make his request of her.
"Okay, the beginning it is. Blood pressure, pulse and, open up, temperature." She stuck a thermometer in his mouth without giving him a chance to respond.
Over the next hour and a half the Doctor examined her patient head to toe. He'd obviously been beaten over the course of his imprisonment, some of the bruises were fresh and some had already started to fade to a sickly yellow tint. There were a few gashes across his chest and back that could stand to be sutured but they could wait for treatment. For now she cleaned them up and made a note to start him on antibiotics to stave off infection. At first he stiffened every time she touched him but after a while he seemed to settle down, reminiscent of the way he'd acted during the last time she'd examined him. She was still reeling from that one and was certain his request was related in some way.
As the exam proceeded Fraiser frequently stopped to jot down notes and since he was so insistent that no one else come near and he was filthy she decided to bathe him as she went. It turned out to be a good excuse to get an up close look at every inch of him, as usual she saved the more private areas for last and snapped on a fresh pair of gloves, trying hard to be detached and professional.
"We're almost done Colonel, just one more thing to go. I must say you've been extremely cooperative-" She stopped and looked at his face. For some reason he'd suddenly become rigid. His eyes stared straight forward lifelessly at the blank white curtain. "Colonel?" She waved a hand in front of his face. He closed his eyes and raised a hand to grasp hers.
Without a word he lowered her hand to the sheet across his lap and held it there. After a moment he opened his eyes and looked at her. He nodded once and let her pull back the sheets.
Upon removing the sheet she had to hold back a gasp; his genitals were reddened and swollen. It was as if he'd been manhandled and scratched repeatedly by something leaving the sensitive skin raw and broken in some places. She touched him lightly with her gloved hand and glanced at his face for any reaction. He remained stoic, lying back with his head on the pillow and eyes closed.
"I'm sorry, Sir, but I have to ask a few questions."
He didn't open his eyes but nodded.
"This, injury, it looks like surface abrasions and possibly a couple of burns. Is that right?"
He nodded.
"I'll need to palpate a few areas, it may, well, it's gonna hurt like hell, Sir."
He nodded.
She felt him all around probing for internal injuries and thankfully found none. It looked terrible and painful but with some ice and antibiotic ointment she was sure he'd be as good as new in a week, maybe less.
"It's not that bad actually. All the damage is on the outside and lucky for you, skin heals rather quickly."
"Not all."
"Sir?"
He blew out his breath. "It's not all outside. You're not done yet."
He rolled on his side with his back to her and she knew what he meant. She quickly grabbed a tube of lubricant. With her hand positioned to begin she rested her other hand on his shoulder and gently spoke to him. "If there's damage here I'd like to know it before I start, I don't want to cause further injury by examining you."
She waited for him to respond.
"Yes. There's damage, I'm pretty sure. No, you won't hurt me, you never have. All those comments I've made over the years about your big needles? I lied."
Never before in her life had Janet Fraiser wanted to hug a patient whose rear end was in her face and it was all she could do to refrain from doing it now. She settled for giving his shoulder a firm squeeze.
The Doctor was appalled by what she'd found. It wasn't every day she found evidence of rape on a male patient. Obviously it had happened repeatedly and with no consideration for his comfort, quite unlike the last exam. By the time she was done she was one angry woman.
She snapped off the gloves and tossed them to the wastebasket, missing it by a mile. "Nurse!" Her voice was shrill and loud enough to make O'Neill jump.
"Ice packs, three of them now. Silvadene cream. Morphine- no arguments Colonel- 2 milligrams IM, scratch that IV, get a set up, I'll place it myself. A liter of Ringers Lactate wide open, 500 mg Cipro IV. Full set abdominal x-rays stat. Call Doctor Warner." There was a sudden shuffling of many feet all around the infirmary as the orders were carried out.
"Doc?"
"Sir?" She stopped in mid stride.
"What's going on?"
Her voice softened, no longer the Doctor, but a friend. She moved around the bed so he wouldn't have to turn over. "There is some damage. How much I'm not sure just yet." She took his hand. "There's at least one significant tear and if your bowel is perforated, well, it would not be good. That's where Doctor Warner comes in, I could do the external stitching myself but I'd rather he makes sure nothing is missed. Any abdominal cramps?"
"Some, not bad."
"That's a good sign, hopefully it's just from the bruising."
She paused considering the sensitive nature of his injuries and how they were sustained and caught the defeated look in his eyes. It would be only minutes before she began the circus parade of events that would lead up to his return to health, hopefully mental as well as physical. She knew the physical part would be easy compared with repairing the injuries to his mind and soul; they were a lot more than just collateral damage.
She patted his arm, "Colonel, it may take a while for you to recuperate from this. Don't rush it. I just want to make sure you know we are all here for you. If you ever need to talk, vent, hit something, we're here."
"Hit something?" He smiled for the first time since his return.
"Well not me personally. I'll have something unbreakable, or if you'd like, breakable, brought in."
The surgery turned out to be minimal, no internal damage was found, and he actually ended up with more sutures on his chest than anywhere else. After two days O'Neill was given leave to go home. His orders were rest, recuperate and of course, keep his appointments with Doctor MacKenzie. The hardest thing was dealing with his team; he'd decided to keep them out of the loop considering the sensitive nature of his injuries and even the surgery itself. All they knew was that he'd been injured badly enough to require it. What they didn't understand was why he was moved off the base to have it done. Fraiser and Warner were as tight lipped as clams and Hammond claimed he was just being receptive of the medical considerations.
After two weeks Mackenzie still hadn't cleared him for duty and his team was becoming seriously concerned. It reached a head when they were summoned as a group into General Hammond's office.
Carter rapped lightly on the doorframe, Daniel and Teal'c standing directly behind her.
Hammond looked up. "Major. Come in, you two also. Close the door."
Daniel took a seat and folded his arms in front of his chest. "Is this about Jack?"
Hammond couldn't help but smile. One of the greatest assets of this team was their concern for each other. "Yes, it is, and the future of SG-1."
"I'm sure we'll all be ready to go back to work as soon as the Colonel is cleared." Carter said as she sat.
The General waited a moment and when it was apparent the third member of SG-1, Teal'c, did not intend to sit he responded. He picked up a folder from his desk. "I have here in my hand Colonel O'Neill's resignation. I received it yesterday."
"He was here?"
"No. He came by my house. Didn't stay long but I saw enough to know he's not himself."
"Yeah, we noticed that." Daniel sighed. They'd tried to stir up an impromptu 'team' night recently by congregating on the Colonel at his home and for once they'd all left early. O'Neill was irritable and aloof the entire time, there just wasn't any point in staying.
"Therefore, I am not inclined to accept this." He exaggerated his movements as he pulled open his desk drawer and flung the file into it then closed it with a slam. "I can't sit on it forever though. I'll give it another week."
"General," Daniel spoke up again. "We've already tried. We can't help him if we don't know what's going on and he's not talking."
Hammond laced his fingers together on his desk. He had a fine line to walk here. "Apparently that is a recurring theme; Colonel O'Neill has not been keeping his appointments with Doctor MacKenzie either." He paused and took a slow breath. "As you know I cannot break any confidentiality issues, medical or otherwise. However, I can confirm what you already know."
"We know very little." Teal'c was straight to the point.
"Maybe not. Tell me what you do know."
The three teammates looked at each other. Daniel began. "Well, he said he didn't remember anything that happened in the time he was missing."
Carter bit her lower lip thoughtfully. "Ranos said something about the Colonel being intoxicated. If that's true he may have been drugged. He could have been completely disoriented, maybe even hallucinating. Anything is possible."
Daniel's voice softened. "And there was all that other stuff Ranos talked about. You think it could really have happened? I mean if it was, you, for example," he glanced at Carter, "we'd be talking date rape, right? But it's Jack."
"Daniel Jackson, do you believe the fact Colonel O'Neill is male makes him immune from this type of attack?"
"Guess not."
"What happened later?" Hammond asked. They'd been thoroughly debriefed when they returned but he wanted them to think more closely about what they heard and saw.
"I talked to him in the prison." Carter offered. "He was obviously hurt, probably been beaten severely, pretty much how he looked when we brought him home. And there was something else, I don't know." Her voice began to trail off. "He flinched when I touched him."
"Colonel O'Neill does not 'flinch'." Teal'c said flatly.
"Maybe not." Daniel noted, "But when we were at his house he was damned careful to not let any one of us get close to him."
"Anything else?"
The three glanced at each other again. When they had nothing more to offer Hammond continued. "I can say this much; your observations and conclusions have merit. As far as what Ranos said, I can neither confirm nor deny its truth at this time. However, I will say that what Colonel O'Neill has been through should never be required of any human being. If he pushes for this-" He tapped his desk over the drawer. "I have no choice but to let him go. If any of you come up with a way to get him back on his feet and back to work, do it. Truth is we need him and this is not the way for any officer to end his career. Even if he doesn't come back, as a friend, I can't bear to see him go out like this." The General heaved a sigh and blinked back the moisture accumulating in his eyes. The team knew he considered them all to be a 'family' of sorts but his even stronger feelings for his 2IC were now evident. He'd had only daughters, not sons, and Jack was such a kindred spirit it was easy to think of him as more than a fellow officer.
"Ultimately it's about what's best for Jack. In my opinion that means he should be back here, walking through that gate and never quite giving me a proper salute. You are authorized to pursue whatever you can come up with to resolve this issue, be it therapy or anything else short of dragging him here and physically tossing him into the gate."
He stood slowly as if bearing a heavy load. "Do what you can people, I know you want him back as badly as I do. Dismissed."
Later Daniel met with Sam in her lab. He sat and warmed his hands around a cup of coffee. "You know I was thinking about Ranos mentioning Jack being intoxicated, and Jack not remembering where he was. Aren't there drugs that make people forget?"
"Yes, there are." She lowered her eyes and looked suddenly uncomfortable.
"Sam?" He stretched out her name slowly. "There's something else?"
"Sort of." She looked at her hands. "You said if it were me it could have been 'date rape'."
"Well, yeah, but-" He looked at her carefully, a thought dawning on him. "You're telling me this happened to you?" Daniel's voice rose in pitch. It was bad enough to have someone as strong as O'Neill go through something like this, but he considered Sam far more fragile, much as she tried to be the perfect soldier, she was still a young woman and vulnerable.
She took a breath and blew it out. "Not quite. It was when I was in the Academy. Someone slipped me the drug. I woke up in another place and in someone else's bed, luckily alone. As it turned out, one of my close friends had seen it happen and immediately took me to her house. It ruined her evening to have to baby sit me, but she told me someone once did the same thing for her; she felt obligated to pass along the favor. I still can't remember that night."
"Wow, that's a good friend."
"The best, Daniel, the best." Her mind to wandered away from the conversation. She knew beyond a doubt she could get through to O'Neill especially given such leniency from Hammond.
"You think he did?"
"Huh?"
"You know, remember? You think that's why he's so freaked over this, because he remembers it? Or, maybe it's brought up some other memories. Like Iraq." He sipped his coffee slowly and added another thought without lowering the cup. "Makes you wonder what kinds of things Jack has gone through. Bad 'things' are known to happen in prisons."
She eyed him surreptitiously and waved a pen at him. "You're not as nave as you look."
His eyebrows flicked. "You remember Hadante? Well, that made an impression on me. Jack and I talked about it later, it wasn't just appearing weak he wanted to avoid. Like it or not to those prisoners I wasn't much more than fresh meat. You had Linea, Teal'c, well who's gonna mess with Teal'c? And Jack had his experience and his wits; any of you would have survived even on your own. I was the weak link."
"Well it took all of us to get out. Sometimes, that's all we need, each other." Her mind wandered again. She definitely was going to see O'Neill.
It wasn't very late yet but the house was dark, all she could see through the window was the light from the Television set. She knocked at the door and waited. It took a few minutes but an inside light came on and O'Neill opened the door.
"Carter. Nice night." He looked tired and haggard, not the O'Neill she'd known for years.
"Yeah, it will be getting chilly later. Can I come in?"
"Suit yourself." He left the door open and walked away from the foyer and back down to the main room.
She closed the door behind her and slid the leather jacket off her shoulders then hung it on a peg in the wall. Turning to the den she stood still, suddenly uncomfortable.
"You gonna come in or stand there? Beer's in the fridge if you want."
"Uh, no thanks." She moved down the steps and scanned the room with her eyes. She loved his house. The furninshings were definitely masculine with all the military mementos and paraphanalia but it was one of the most comfortable homes she'd ever visited. For all O'Neill's chiding on about Martha Stewart; his tastes rivaled even hers. Carter smiled at the thought as she looked around for something to focus upon to help her resolve.
"Hammond told you."
The statement surprised her, she figured he was going to give her the silent treatment and make her drag it out of him. "He did. He told all of us." Without meaning to she had moved closer to him and now stood looking down at him. She lowered herself and sat on the edge of the coffee table to be more on his level. "Sir."
"Aak! If Hammond told you, then you know. There is no 'Sir'. You can drop that right now."
"Well paperwork takes more than a day to process." She lied. "I thought you might reconsider."
"Not gonna happen."
"But why?" She reached out and her hand landed on his knee.
His reaction was instantaneous, he jerked away from her, his leg bumping the chessboard and sending pieces flying everywhere.
"Oh! I'm sorry." She jerked her hand back just as quickly. "I screwed up your game."
"I was losing anyway."
"You were playing 'yourself', isn't it usual to stalemate?"
A smile played at his lips, the first hint of one she'd seen. "What can I say, I'm good."
She smiled back then lowered her eyes and the smile faded. "Sir, we miss you. I miss you."
"You saw me the other day, Carter."
"Saw, yes, but that's all. You wouldn't really interact with any of us. Even here, now, we're talking but there's this 'wall'-" She mimed with one hand as if pressing it against an invisible object in front of her, "between us. You won't even let me touch you."
With that he stood and walked to the window, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I just need the space right now."
"More space than the whole of Cheyenne Mountain can afford you?"
"Yes."
She was quiet for a moment. "It's hard to lose control, isn't it?"
He spun and glared at her. "Is this about what Ranos told you?" He was fully aware of their reports.
Her head jerked up. "I still don't believe him."
He sighed and shook his head wearily. "Look, it's late and I'm tired. You can see yourself out." Without another glance at her he turned and climbed the steps toward his bedroom, pausing just at the top of the steps. He spoke without turning around. "I am resigning. Get used to it."
Carter steeled her eyes at his retreating form and glanced at her watch; it wasn't late at all. She blinked and whispered under her breath, "For now, Jack O'Neill. For now."
Sam was startled into alertness by the sound of someone moaning in pain. She'd fallen asleep on the couch but the sound was loud enough she could hear it even through the Colonel's closed door. As she approached it she wondered if he often slept with his door closed or had rightly anticipated she would stay. Her light rapping brought forth no response but she could hear him uttering a few syllables, then gasp as he spoke the phrase 'don't do this'.
That was enough for her; she wasn't going to let him suffer alone. She opened the door carefully and peered in. O'Neill was lying on his side in the bed clutching at the sheets and moving his legs, writhing. He let out another painful moan and she ran to his side.
"Colonel!" She took him by the arm and he shoved her away.
"No!"
"Colonel, wake up! Jack!"
At the sound of his name he twitched and opened his eyes. He scanned the room quickly trying to get his bearings then pushed himself to a sitting position. "Dammit." He scrubbed a shaky hand over his face and tried to get his breathing under control. He eyed her through his fingers. "I thought you were leaving."
"I thought you were gonna be okay."
"I am okay. Go home."
"You're drenched."
He still looked disoriented and shrugged at the tangle of damp sheets around him. "Uh, yeah. It gets that way sometimes."
"How often do you do this?"
"Oh, now and then, say six or seven times a week."
She was not amused. "Shower, now. I'll change your sheets." She glared at him, just in case he decided to object, which he didn't.
He went to the bathroom and closed the door; Carter removed the sheets and pillowcases took them up front to the laundry. On her way back she found the linen closet and picked out appropriate replacements.
Back in the bedroom there was utter silence, not even the sound of water running. Carter tapped on the bathroom door. "Sir?"
The silence remained so she opened the door. She should have known what she'd find. O'Neill was sitting on the edge of the tub still dressed, holding his head in his hands. He hadn't moved since he first went in. She pushed the door open slowly and tiptoed in, not wanting to be too intrusive.
He didn't acknowledge her presence so she moved directly in front of him and knelt. "Colonel?"
She winced at the prospect of having to touch him to get a response. Ever so lightly she settled her hands over his then gently pulled them away from his face. His eyes were reddened and hollow looking; none of his usual love of life was showing itself.
She held his hands for several seconds and just looked at him, saddened that he'd come to be like this. Her hand left his and moved to his cheek and he blinked, finally aware she was there.
Now that she was sure he wasn't catatonic she stood and turned on the water to warm it up. Turning to face him she took his hands once more and tugged upward encouraging him to stand.
"Do you want help?"
She wasn't being sarcastic or short with him, just sincere. He shook his head and grasped the hem of his T-shirt to remove it, then stopped, waiting.
It struck her that he was waiting for her to leave and she blushed, then quickly turned and left him to his task. She waited a few moments outside the door then opened it a crack and peered in to confirm if he'd actually moved. His clothes were in a heap on the floor and she could make out his shadow on the shower curtain as he moved under the warm spray. She nodded to herself, at least a mundane chore like bathing wasn't beyond him. She tiptoed in and snatched up the soiled clothing, leaving clean replacements folded on the sink.
After making up the bed to her satisfaction Sam flicked on the hall light and went downstairs. It only took her a few seconds of puttering in the kitchen to locate teabags and honey and set about to make two cups of hot tea. There were already two clean coffee mugs on the counter and she filled them with hot water and dunked the teabags in them.
She inhaled deeply as the slightly spicy aroma filled the air and let herself relax. She had a feeling it wouldn't take long for the Colonel's demons to surface and this nightmare of his was likely only the beginning. After letting the bags steep a minute she tossed them out and added a little sweetener then headed back to the bedroom, mugs in hand.
O'Neill's bedroom door was still open as she'd left it and he'd had enough time to finish and crawl back in bed. She could see his hair was still wet sticking up from under the covers. He stirred at the sound of her approach and sniffed the air. "Tea?"
"Uh, huh. Honey but no lemon, I thought it might help you sleep."
He accepted the cup graciously. "It might. Thanks."
He stayed leaning up on one elbow and sipped at the tea while Sam lowered herself to the floor and sat with her back supported by his bedside table. "There are chairs."
"I know. I'd just rather be here."
He smiled inwardly, 'here' was less than an arms length away. He, too, enjoyed their proximity. After several minutes he broke the silence. "It's not about Ranos."
"The dream?"
"All of it. Well, it's not just about Ranos. What he did, " Jack paused, "was despicable at best, but I think the guy really held no malice, he'd just been allowed to do his own thing for so long the lines of right and wrong got blurred in his mind. He thought he could do anything and be above reproach."
"You're being quite generous to him."
"Maybe." He sipped the tea. "I've had a long time to think about things."
Sam looked up at her CO; he was certainly distraught over something, and she expected Ranos to be a major portion of it, but O'Neill was acting as though he'd put it behind him.
"You don't blame him?"
"Sure I do. Believe me I won't ever go back there." He shuddered at the thought.
She frowned and knit her brows at his response.
"Look, what Ranos did at least I don't remember, though apparently that was one of the more benign things that happened to me on that accursed planet. After I confronted him, which was stupid, I might add, and I was tossed in that cell, some of his friends came to visit."
She nodded recalling his words when she spoke to him in the prison. "You were pretty well bruised up."
"Yeah, to put it mildly. They were not happy with me, said if I wanted some memories they'd give me a few. They made good on their promise."
"Such as?" She was pushing and she knew it.
The question was innocent enough but he was ready for it. "Is that why you're here? A little 'fishing' expedition, Major?"
The formality and hidden anger struck her and she blinked back the sudden onslaught of moisture in her eyes.
"Sorry." He set down the mug and rolled on his back. "It's just that everybody, well, MacKenzie in particular, wants me to talk about it and that is not what's going to make any difference."
"So what will?"
"I honestly don't know."
She was still sitting on the floor and slowly got up. After placing her own mug beside his she lowered herself and sat on the very edge of the bed. "Do you trust me?"
He answered as if it was a stupid question. "I trust you all the time. Every time we go off world and even when we're not. I definitely wouldn't let you have all those alien doohickeys if I didn't trust you, let a lone a Zat."
She playfully slapped at his thigh. "That's not what I meant." Her voice turned serious. "I mean now. Right here. Right now."
Their eyes met and he studied her a moment. "Yeah, I do."
She hadn't really intended for their conversation to head in this direction but here it was. "So if you can't talk about it, show me."
He did that 'flinch' thing, but only with his eyes. Instead of the expected outburst and vehement 'no!' she waited as he seemed to consider it.
With a small shake of his head he said, "It's not like you haven't seen bruises before, I guess." He sat up, grabbing the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up over his head.
As soon as she saw the bruising her mind began to piece together what had happened. Most of it was gone but a few places remained. It was still easy to see where he'd been sutured back together in a couple places and the bruising left his skin darkened and reddish. He'd definitely have a few more scars added to his collection. It seemed there wasn't much of him that had been missed. "The nightmare, it's about this?"
"Uh, no."
She knew it, there was something else. Sam recalled what Daniel had said about 'bad things' happening in prisons. She began to realize for the first time what might have happened to O'Neill.
"So, these associates of Ranos, they did this and then picked up where he left off?" She knew if was blunt and insensitive but she had to know.
O'Neill nearly came up off the bed. He reached forward and grasped her wrist hard enough to break it if he twisted it just a bit more. "What did Fraiser tell you?" He demanded.
"Huh, Janet?" She was so surprised by his movement that she jerked back and almost fell off the bed. Jack's firm grip on her arm was all that held her up.
"What. Did. She. Tell. You?"
"You're hurting me!"
He released her wrist with a huff and climbed out of the bed, taking long strides to the opposite side of the room. Once there he turned and faced her then folded his arms across his chest defiantly.
Carter massaged her sore wrist. "She didn't say anything. Actually it was something Daniel said. That, and putting together a few clues from back on the planet."
He blew out a harsh breath. "Daniel." Leave it to the scientists of SG-1 to figure it out. "So you drew the short straw to come talk to me about it, huh?"
His demeanor still had her on edge and she answered him quickly, running her words together. "No, it's not like that. Actually it began to make more sense when I looked at it from my own point of reference, albeit not at all on a par with what happened to you, it was something." She didn't look up but continued to speak. "I was drugged at a party one time. Nothing happened though. Well, I have to believe nothing happened, I don't remember a thing, a very good friend told me so. It was hard to trust her. I felt like I had lost control of my life and letting someone else keep it by having to trust them. Maybe that's why I'm such a control freak now, I've got to keep everything nice and tight in it's own little box." She gestured with her hands describing a cube.
She was rambling and he was getting lost. He raised his hands in surrender. "Carter. Stop!" He paused a moment. "Wait. This happened and you still don't remember?"
She shook her head, as much to herself as to him. She thought she understood at least a little of what he was going through but now she wasn't so sure. Hammond's words echoed in her head. 'What Colonel O'Neill has been through should never be required of any human being.'
Her ideas came together as if someone had whacked her in the face. "Oh my God, the surgery. It wasn't for those places on your chest. It was because of what those men did to you." Images of the brutality of rape came to her mind unbidden and she covered her open mouth with her hand.
He turned away from her and punched the doorframe hard.
Carter winced at his outburst but wasn't surprised. As a victim she expected him to show denial, rage even guilt, anything but admit it happened.
"Yes!" His fist impacted the wood again. This time it gave and a small crack appeared. "And I couldn't stop them." His voice changed in an instant from anger to despair.
Sam wanted nothing more right then than to run to him, hold him and tell him none of it mattered, that it was going to be okay, but she couldn't; she knew it would be a lie.
"Sam." He rested his forehead against the frame and spoke with a voice that sounded too small to come out of a grown man. "What will I do?"
She did go to him, but held back still unsure of his ability to accept her comfort. She only slid her hand into his and intertwined their fingers. She stood still beside him for several minutes, unspeaking. When he sighed heavily she gave his hand a squeeze.
"Why don't you try to get some sleep. Maybe we can talk a little more tomorrow. Things are sometimes easier in the daylight."
He didn't answer but allowed her to tug him gently in the right direction. Once there she got him to lie down and pulled the covers up over him. When she doused the lamp he reached out and very gently this time, took her wrist. "Don't go."
She looked down at him, his face now bathed in moonlight, looking even more hollow and sad than before. It was so hard to see him in turmoil but it was after all, the reason she came, to help him. She knew if anyone could make a difference it would be her. This was an intimate issue after all.
Carter wasn't proud of the fact that she'd actually been intimate with her CO. Twice.
She was still amazed there was no record of either event, thus no reprimand, no investigations or explanations and most thankfully no Court Marshal for either of them. Hammond knew, which if she let herself think about it made her blush every time she was in his presence, but he determined that worse things had been done under alien influence and this was a crime not worthy of the usual punishment.
In short he wrote it off. God bless George Hammond.
The first time there really was no question they were impaired, she and O'Neill had been 'memory stamped' and had no idea who they were. It was interesting that given the circumstances they still gravitated toward each other and did eventually end up in the same bed. They would have spent every night together but for the fact their quarters were shared with so many others and they'd only that once been able to arrange use of a private sleeping room. O'Neill, then as Jonah had to work a full double shift in payment and was almost too tired to enjoy it, but she soon changed his mind and they did their best to make every minute count.
The second time wasn't long after. Who could blame them, both still reeling from their memories of the sweaty underground factory and suddenly thrust into a paradise? Of sorts anyway. A beach, a beautiful palace, waaay too much time on their hands and that little addiction thing that clouded their minds just enough to rationalize that it would be a healthy release of tension and ease their withdrawal. After that Carter adjusted the machine to step them down more slowly, so no more 'tension releases' would be needed. As if guilt alone wasn't enough of a deterrent.
Since then, while they'd remained close emotionally, they'd never crossed the line. Not even danced on it. They were even comfortable enough that she'd used him for a pillow a few times and not let it get out of hand. To both of them, the memories were a kind of promise of things to come and they were okay with that for now.
'Don't go' His request echoed in her head and she realized she hadn't answered.
She squeezed his hand. "All right, but only Sam." He nodded an acknowledgement that she recognized his need for her: the woman, not the Major.
She moved around the other side and sat to remove her shoes and socks then slipped out of her jeans and blouse. She was glad she'd worn a cotton tank top, as it would now serve as sleepwear. He felt the bed dip under her weight and a slight jostling as she undressed and then she stood and there was a slight puff of cool air as she lifted the comforter to slip beneath it. He stayed on his side curled up with his back to her until she was settled under the covers.
She was so close he could feel her body heat behind him but there was no contact. He waited a few moments to see if she'd move closer and when she didn't he stretched out and slid one leg back just until it touched hers. She smiled at his obvious need to feel her presence veiled in the incidental contact. Her toe moved up and down one time, lightly grazing his skin, a silent acceptance of his comfort level such as it was.
It wasn't long before they both were asleep.
Several hours later Sam woke to find they'd both moved. She was now lying on her back and he was on his side facing her. It was obvious he'd been awake for a while and was watching her sleep.
She was momentarily embarrassed wondering if she'd drooled or done something equally revolting to earn his attention. Her fears were dispelled as he moved his hand and gently brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead. There was no amusement on his face, if anything he looked sad.
She moved and turned on her side so she was facing him, with a little room between them. "What's wrong?"
Jack simply shook his head and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling.
Okay, she thought, if they were going to 'not talk' she could do that too. She rolled onto her back and stared at her section of ceiling.
"You'd think after Iraq I'd be good at suppressing memories."
Sam turned her head toward him and glanced at a bruise on his shoulder. "They did a lot more than impress you with memories."
"Oh, I was impressed all right, imprinted, impaled."
She shuddered at his last word.
"Sorry, too graphic."
"No, it's just- it's awful to think what you went through." She still couldn't really grasp what he was saying.
"Yeah, made Iraq look like a picnic."
There was a long silence and Sam considered he might have gone back to sleep. The heavy sigh told her otherwise.
"I really want to go back to work."
"MacKenzie won't clear you unless you go see him."
He snorted. "Actually I think he would. I haven't cleared me."
She had to think about that one, understanding Jack O'Neill-ese wasn't always easy. "You don't think you're fit?"
"Physically I'm fine, but-" his eyes fell.
Something suddenly clicked. Sam rolled up to her side and rested her head on her hand. "It's the 'edge' isn't it?"
He turned his head and narrowed his eyes at her.
"I'm a pilot, too." She let him know she understood. His confidence had been shattered; if he couldn't put it back together he really was going to quit. Just like that.
It was something every Air Force pilot would do, like an unwritten code. For the good of the team, the Air Force and the country, if one of them lost their confidence, they'd turn in their wings. No questions, no explanations required. Self-assessment was expected to occur on a regular basis and be accurate.
He closed his eyes and turned away from her. Sam instantly reached out and grasped his upper arm making him flinch and jerk away from her. "That's it. It's about touch, isn't it? Until you're okay with being touched, you won't come back."
He glared over his shoulder then turned to face her. "So? What am I gonna do? Cringe every time somebody brushes up against me? Ask some Jaffa to please not touch me 'cause I might have a panic attack?"
Her pulse quickened as her body released adrenalin into her system- the Carter mind in motion. She was formulating a plan.
"No. You're gonna get it back. Touch me."
"What?" His eyes popped open.
"You've got a problem with touch, so-" She flipped the sheets back. "Start by touching me. Anywhere."
"I'm not afraid to touch you."
"Prove it."
Her challenge was at least interesting, to the point that he considered it. He'd touched her before, in various ways. What could it hurt? They'd already touched half a dozen times since she came to his house.
Tentatively, as if expecting physical pain, he stretched out one finger and poked her upper arm.
She rolled her eyes. This could take all day. And the next.
He noted her impatience and tried harder. He laid the palm of his hand against her skin and moved it over her arm, not as a caress really, but actually feeling the skin tone, muscle and the barely present hairs there. Next he flattened his hand and placed his palm directly on her midsection over her shirt and began to move it in a small circle, the hand then moved down across the outside of her hip and down to her leg. As he made the same motions on her thigh he suddenly stopped and the corner of his mouth turned up in a tiny smile. "You're cold." He'd discovered goose bumps as he felt her skin.
He pulled the blanket back up and covered them both then placed his hand back on her stomach to resume his assignment.
This time after making a large circle encompassing her whole abdomen the hand drifted upward lightly skimming over the cotton fabric covering her breasts and upward not making direct skin to skin contact until he reached her collarbone. He took her chin and turned her face toward him and gazed into her eyes.
She could feel the passion radiating from him even though it was held at bay. The evidence was there in his eyes; they were only ever that dark when he was angry or passionate, she'd seen both.
Sam pretended to stretch just a little and turned to more fully face him, ignoring the effect he was having on her. He was aware of it anyway, she was sure. She moved her head back to better take in his face. His entire demeanor was animalistic. Every breath was controlled, every muscle restrained, she knew he could even make his heartbeat slow by will alone.
It was sad, really, to see him like this, so full of need yet denying himself. She knew it wasn't the 'Regs' this time, that's why she'd left the Major elsewhere. Right now the only thing holding him back was the pain and humiliation he'd suffered at the hands of strangers. Worse than that, they'd taken away his control, forced his submission, something no male, especially an Alpha, could bear.
Her eyes stayed locked with his and she made a decision to up the ante in her challenge. Her arms wiggled under the covers as she slid her tank top up. She only broke eye contact long enough to pull the garment up over her head and toss it away. Her hands retreated from sight and after a bit more movement she produced her panties. She shifted to her back and rested her hands on either side of her head on the pillow in a gesture of surrender.
His eyes darkened more if that were possible and he licked his lips. He understood what she was doing and knew there would be no objection no matter what his desire. Slowly his hand descended and stopped just above her breast, going no further. He wanted to touch her, needed to touch her yet something restrained him. He couldn't quite break through. His breathing suddenly lost its steady rhythm and he heaved a shaky sigh. Decision made. He pulled back from her and lowered his eyes, the demons plaguing him had won another round; the fight was too much.
Sam saw the change in his eyes and felt a flare of anger both at they who hurt him and him for giving in. Not when it happened, then he'd had no choice, but here and now they were taking him again. As he leaned back she quickly reached forward before he was too far away and clutched the back of his neck with her fingers. His backward motion caused her to rise up and one of her breasts brushed against his bare chest.
Part of him still wanted to recoil from the touch but instinct won out and his hands immediately went to her lower back and pressed her forward until her chest was crushed up against him. She reared her head back to keep it from smashing into his.
The sight of her tossing her head back and the little gasp that came out of her mouth touched at that basic part of him that never could quite be restrained, a part that had survived the encounter with Ranos' men unscathed. He gave into it slowly, and drew from his own inner strength.
While still holding her, one hand moved slowly up her back, the light touch of his fingers tracing a line up and over her shoulder and down in front. She moved her arm back out of the way so he could continue the path to where their bodies met.
He eased up with the hand on her back and let her shift her weight so that while they were still touching there was a potential space between them. His hand moved just a little lower, enough for his thumb to reach her nipple and caress it in a slow circular motion.
His gentle stroking made her close her eyes and suck in her stomach muscles. His mouth twitched just a tiny bit; he couldn't help but feel pleasure in having the power to make her react. When she opened her eyes again she caught the faint smile on his lips.
Encouraged, she smiled back and raised her knee across his thighs until it rested just below his groin. He was obviously aroused but not yet fully.
She moved her hand to his chest and paused just long enough to rub her thumb over his nipple and give it a slight pinch before moving lower. He was only wearing the loosely fitting sweatpants and her hand easily slid beneath the elastic waistband toward her intended target.
Suddenly the viselike grip of his hand was on her wrist, stopping her. She looked at him intending to glare at his interruption but what she saw in his eyes makes her soften instantly. A glint of fear was back; she winced at the sight of it.
She relaxed her hand to let him pull it away if he desired but he did not. He held her gaze a moment then relaxed his grip and slid his hand in place on top of hers. There was some uncertainty remaining but the trust was stronger. Together they completed the journey downward. She allowed him to lead her hand and place it where he wished. She just held him at first, his hand still on hers relaying that she was not to move just yet.
Under the warmth of her hand she could feel him grow in size and firmness. His pulse quickened, she could feel that too. He shifted his hand upward taking hers with it and then slowly down so that the flat of her palm glided all the way down his shaft and her fingers curled around the sacs at the base. They moved upward again together and back down slowly this time going further. He moved a leg to allow their hands more room.
Their eyes stayed locked together; his requesting, requiring her to touch where he'd been violated, as if contact with her could remove the indignity of what had been done.
It was a barrier he'd have to cross if he was ever to recover, and they both knew it. He nodded just slightly, telling her to go on. Sam nodded in return and was surprised that when she moved her hand he no longer guided her. She slid her fingers lower and circled the puckered opening in a gentle caress. Still looking into his eyes she saw no fear or hesitation, only trust- and passion.
As her fingertips continued the light stroking she used the heel of her hand and thumb to massage his scrotum. This time it was he whose stomach muscles clenched. A low moan escaped his throat and he rotated his hips forward increasing the pressure. As he did his hand went to the back of her head where his fingers intertwined with her hair. He moved more roughly than intended from his increasing need and brought their lips together with force. Sam was ready for it and already had her mouth open in anticipation.
Their contact was a combination of biting, sucking and mashing together of tongue at a pace that neared frantic. She forgot where her hand was for a moment lost in the kiss but quickly recovered and slid it up to the top of the fabric covering him. Her other hand found its way there too and she tugged on both sides of his hips to remove the last barrier between them. He was writhing enough it wasn't a problem and soon she had them down to his knees. He responded by bending up his legs and helping her remove the garment.
Before he got his legs straightened out she had a hand on him again and was stroking and applying just the right amount of pressure. He rolled them as a unit to one side until they were side by side and his knee moved to between hers, separating her legs. One part of her had been ignored thus far and he was going to do something about it.
His fingers moved with the lightest touch at first along the center but staying on the surface, teasing the fine hairs there. He chose the moment to make his move and suddenly grasped her entire mound in his hand pressing his palm into her pelvic bone. The pressure alone nearly did her in, but she held on and rocked her hips forward to change the angle of his assault. His fingertips pushed into her and pulled back wet.
The next movement of his hand was more direct and he slid two fingers deeply inside her. There was a small gush of moisture as he withdrew them and brought it forward to lubricate her more thoroughly.
She spread her legs wide and began to move her hips in conjunction with his hand movements. He continued encouraged by the small grunting noises that accompanied her every breath until her hands tugged at him demanding his presence.
He moved above her and followed her lead to position himself to enter her. Just before the final commitment he paused.
Her eyes flew open to see if the fear had returned but she saw none, he was, as he'd done before, simply asking her permission, giving her a chance to refuse even though he could easily force her if he wanted to. She smiled at the gesture and tugged on him while at the same time raising her hips to meet him. The contact made his groin ache and he pressed forward, slowly and deliberately burying himself completely in the first stroke. Once fully within her, her muscles contracted in response and he groaned loudly at the pleasurable sensation.
Sam raised her hands to either side of his face, watching him. More than that she wanted him to watch her; see it when it happened. He did watch her, almost becoming lost in her eyes. Almost.
He began a slow rhythm, biting his lower lip as he concentrated. In reality he could go at any time but he wanted to see her go first, somehow it was a point of pride to know what he could do to her. He still had the memories of other times but it was intoxicating seeing it happen again right in front of him.
Sam's breathing changed to deep oxygen sucking breaths and she had to lick her lips from the dryness. His mouth wasn't and he descended over her, encompassing her mouth with his and shared the moisture.
As he leaned back she rose up and licked across his lips with the broad flat surface of her tongue in a playful puppy kiss. He grinned but didn't let it distract him and increased his pace. She moved with him and was soon concentrating as hard as he to press their pubic bones together and maximize his depth.
He could tell when it was time, not just by her body but by her eyes and used his hand to add even more stimulation. When the wave began she seemed to just 'leave'. Her eyes remained open and her expression somewhere between agony and ecstasy but she no longer saw the physical world. For that moment she became a part of the wave itself.
As it crashed she jerked spasmodically and grunted several times. Plenty of time for him to come to his own release. In three thrusts he was done, shivering and jerking along with her then collapsing over her, carefully falling to one side so she would still be able to breathe while their hips remained locked for several minutes more.
Sam lightly ran a finger along the crest of his shoulder and Jack realized he was still lying on her. Although her upper body was free her hips were supporting a great deal of his weight. The look on her face was not one of pain yet but he knew her hips would cramp if held spread-eagled for too long.
He pulled off and grunted at the loss of contact. Then flopped bonelessly beside her. His body craved rest but he had one more task, he pulled her close and nuzzled into her hair. "Thank you."
Sam woke and found herself idly running her fingers over the man sleeping before her, enjoying the simple pleasure of touching him and having him not jump; she wondered just how comfortable he was with her now. They'd made a huge amount of progress in a very short time but she wasn't foolish enough to think he was suddenly 'all better'.
Jack didn't need to open his eyes to know she was thinking about something. "Spill it."
"What?" She was startled out of her reverie.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Damn SF. Are you sure you can't see through your eyelids?"
"Positive."
She loved it when he smirked, though she'd never tell him so. "I'm just glad to be here and-" Her index finger traced a lazy path across his chest, circling a nipple slowly and then moving on. "That things are getting better."
"A lot better I'd say. No nightmare."
He was right; he'd slept in absolute peace. "You know this has really just been a first step. Psychological trauma doesn't go away that fast."
"I know. Hell of a beginning wouldn't you say?"
"It was." She continued to idly finger his chest hairs. "It'll be tough to go back to our 'status quo' after this." She frowned at his lack of response. "Are you still considering that resignation?"
"Yeah, thinking about it."
He could feel her body tense and opened one eye to peek at her.
He shut the eye and tightened his arm around her, snuggling further down under the comforter. "Thinking, not doing. The advantages are becoming more obvious though." With that he turned and lightly brushed her cheek with the tip of his nose.
She wriggled and he felt rather than heard her objection.
"There's one more thing. You know the old, AFI 36-2909 and that pesky Uniform Code Article 134? This time there was no alien influence, no inebriation, and no excuse. That's Court Marshal territory."
She thought a moment. "Therapy?"
He opened his eyes and looked at her, shaking his head.
"Following orders?"
"Come again?" His eyebrows rose.
"Hammond ordered us to find a way to get through to you."
"Oh, you got to me all right." He squeezed her a little tighter. "I can't wait to see what Daniel and Teal'c come up with."
"Let them surprise you." She giggled then turned somber and narrowed her eyes slightly. "Just don't rush this and please, don't shut us out again."
He nodded his agreement. "So what happens Monday?"
"We go to work. You see MacKenzie first and then Hammond. He's got an unopened folder in his desk I believe you may want back."
His eyes seemed to cloud a bit. "Status quo, huh?"
Sam reached up and touched his face. "For a while yet, yes. You have a team to lead, and Hammond's waited just about as long as he can." She paused. "We can still talk."
"It's overrated."
She stopped a moment at the defeated tone of his voice then responded softly. "So what do you propose?"
With that Jack suddenly sprang to life, flipping her over and pinning her to the bed. His knee slid up between hers and forced her legs apart. He grinned at her expression of surprise.
His dark eyes bore into hers. "As far as I'm concerned, I've handed in that paperwork and it is customary for Command to act upon it immediately. If I find out different than that come Monday morning, so be it. I'll be there."
She shook her head. "Hammond said he'd give it another-"
Jack quickly pressed two fingers to her lips. "Uh, uh. You don't know that for sure, and I'm not asking." He moved his hand and began to descend slowly, speaking in a soft voice. "For now, though." He kissed her tenderly and moved to nuzzle her ear. "I like your brand of therapy a lot more than MacKenzies."
~fin.
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