Unwilling
Unwilling
by Stef
Summary: he'd rather die himself than lose her.
Category: Action/Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Episode Related: 405 Divide and Conquer
Season: any Season
Pairing: Jack/Sam
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: minor character death, minor language, violence
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: 01/04/04
Unwilling
The gate crashed into life and Hammond entered the control room, watching as the grey iris slid into place over the shimmering blue wormhole. The seconds passed as the computers scanned for a code that would signal the return of one of the offworld teams. No team was scheduled back today and it was with a sinking feeling that he waited, knowing that an early return could signify injury or worse. No code was transmitted, the wormhole disengaged.
"Sir," the technician was running diagnostics, "no matter entered the wormhole. There's no radioactive..."
The iris reopened and as it did the gate once again whirred into life.
"Close the iris!"
A hand was slammed on the palm scanner and the dull metal cover once again slid into place.
"Sir, I'm receiving a signal...It's SG-1?"
"They're not due back for days? Open the iris."
The cover retreated and the security around the gate tightened. Daniel was the first through. He had taken the wormhole at a sprint and, as a result, had been sent hurtling across the embarkation room on entry, landing painfully on the ramp. He remained crouched on the metal floor, dazed. Something was clearly wrong, "Get a medical team down there."
Teal'c was the next through, falling from the gate backwards having entered it shooting. Blood was dripping from wounds to his face and he seemed to be having trouble focusing on the figures in the gate room. He dropped to his knees, fighting the need to lose consciousness. His staff weapon fell from his hands and rolled down the ramp. Immediately a swarm of doctors crowded around them both, trying to pull them onto stretchers. Hammond watched the gate, waiting and hoping...
Jacob collapsed through the gate and lay on the ramp, a tide of blood glistening on his drained features and smeared across his clothing. The wormhole disconnected behind him.
* * *
"How are they?"
Janet smiled sadly; "They'll be fine...None of them have regained consciousness as of yet."
"Keep me updated."
"Yes sir."
"General Hammond?" They turned to see Teal'c pulling himself upright on the bed. His recuperation had been improved by his symbiote.
"Good to see you well son," he watched as the tiny woman rushed over to the Jaffas bedside, hurriedly taking notes on her customary clipboard. It wasn't just that Janet was particularly small but against Teal'c she looked minuscule. She seemed satisfied by his recovery, brown eyes flashing happily in the infirmary lights.
"We must return to P3X 974. It is a matter of great urgency."
"I know son, but first we need to know what happened to Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter."
Teal'c winced a little as he sat up fully, "They have been taken prisoner by the Chancellor."
"Taken prisoner? In your last report we were told that diplomatic relations were going well on the planet."
"Indeed they were General Hammond," he paused, glancing at the other figures in the infirmary, "the Chancellor became most uncooperative."
"Uncooperative?" The general couldn't help but feel a little bewildered.
"He would not let us leave the planet unless we met his demands."
"What were his demands?"
"The chancellor was very...interested in Major Carter."
Hammond nodded, glancing at Jacob who was lying unconscious in the bed opposite.
"When she refused his advances he became very hostile."
Hammond smiled inwardly; thinking about Major Carter's resilience towards sexism and the first time the feisty scientist had graced the SGC's halls.
"O'Neill was very protective of Major Carter, the Chancellor angered him greatly. He did not feel the Chancellor's actions were...appropriate."
Hammond sighed, aware of the subject Teal'c was attempting to skirt around and becoming increasingly worried that his second in command had perhaps created the problem himself, "What did he do?"
Teal'c remained silent, eyes uncharacteristically drawn to the floor.
"Jack broke his nose," Daniel had woken and was fumbling around on the table beside him for his glasses. Janet rushed over, checking his stats and handing the glasses to him, which he accepted with a boyish smile.
Janet smiled back briefly and turned to Hammond, "He may have a slight concussion but other than that he should be fine."
Hammond nodded, "I suppose the chancellor wasn't pleased with this?"
"No," Daniel smiled weakly, "but Jack felt he deserved it and so did Jacob."
Teal'c continued, "The chancellor decided we were to remain in the fortress indefinitely unless Major Carter consented to stay with him."
"She refused of course..." Daniel grimaced, "he wasn't particularly happy about that."
"Indeed, the Chancellor became very aggressive towards us, especially Colonel O'Neill," he touched a bruise on his shoulder gingerly, "so hostile Major Carter became quite distressed."
"So she accepted the compromise?"
"No, not at first," the archaeologist reassured him.
"Indeed, it was not until the Chancellor found a weakness..."
"A weakness?" Hammond did not like the sound of where the conversation was headed.
Daniel stared at the floor and shifted uncomfortably, "He...um..."
"He threatened to kill O'Neill," Teal'c replied calmly.
"Ah..." Hammond tried to piece together the events in his mind, "So Major Carter stayed and you were released."
"Yes General Hammond."
"And Colonel O'Neill was also taken prisoner?"
Teal'c looked a little abashed, "No, myself, Daniel Jackson and Colonel O'Neill were all released."
"Although Jack was literally manhandled out kicking and screaming."
Teal'c tilted his head in a way accustomed to him when he was confused, "Indeed, O'Neill acted most irrationally. The situation seemed to have alarmed him greatly."
Hammond nodded, realising the situation Jack would have found himself in when facing the ideals of never leaving a man behind. Janet remained silent, eyes drawn to the floor, knowing way more about the Za'tarc incident than she'd published in her report.
"O'Neill wished to rescue Major Carter immediately. He was most insistent. He ordered us to go back to the Stargate and get reinforcements."
"He didn't go with you?" Hammond was more than a little shocked, never knowing the Colonel to react so illogically.
"He took one of the weapons we had been supplied with and recovered his tracks."
"We were ambushed," Daniel sighed, "Jack either got caught or made it to the fortress. That was the last we heard from him."
A noise could be heard from Jacob's bed. Janet began to check his vital signs and, although the Tokra was very pale he seemed to be ok. He gazed dizzily around the room for a few moments before finally registering.
"George?"
"I'm here Jacob."
"We have to find them."
* * *
He knew he had to make it back to the fortress, no matter what happened. He wasn't going to leave her there, not with that slime of a Chancellor acting like she was his property. The mere thought made him feel sick. He could see her face clearly in his mind, the fear in her blue eyes when the Chancellor had held the knife to his throat. He could still hear her voice as it shakily told that lying, cheating scum that she'd stay as long as he let them go- let him go. He wasn't going to let her throw her life away, not for him. He wasn't worth it.
The forest around him was dense but his desperation was driving him through the thick greenery. The place was a silent, terraformed utopia, filled with misplaced trees and plants. In reflection, most of the worlds were covered with misplaced trees and plants; it had become a sign of foreboding to find a terraformed globe. No birds flew overhead though, and the eerie silence was only broken by his footsteps stamping through the foliage. Fingers wrapped around his P-90, he felt as though they were driving themselves into the black metal, the sweat in his palms slicking the weapons barrel. His heart was beating loudly in time to his movements and he could feel the blood rushing to his head. He had to help her, she didn't deserve this.
Darkness on the alien world of P3X 974 was falling and it was through the darkened air that he continued his tireless journey.
* * *
It was dark in the vast cell where she was being held. It was dark in the corner she'd curled up in. It was dark in her eyes as they searched the room, dreading the time when he would reappear, the time when he would sweet-talk her and touch her and murmur threats into her skin. Then would come the time when she would press herself further into the walls, hoping to any god that they hadn't already killed that she could be swallowed up by the dank rock. She'd lash out, she'd resist and he'd strike out at her, leaving her in the cell, cursing as he turned the key in the lock, trapping her once again.
She'd tried to be strong but fear had taken over and, in her mind she was trapped in her own, imaginary dark place. Confined within four walls so dark, they made pitch black glow.
Compared to this Netu appeared a heaven.
Movement in the corridor forced her back against the wall again, hiding herself in the shadows.
"Come Samantha, you cannot hide away from me forever..." the key turned into the lock and his face appeared, still looking bruised from her CO's outburst, lank blonde hair falling limply around his ears.
"I can try," she muttered quietly, her eyes shimmering from the darkness she had hidden in.
He smiled and the rest of his body followed the apparition. A body that was draped in fineries and riches that made her feel nauseous to behold. As it was customary he'd brought food and scant clothing which, as customary he would leave in the adjoining room, the adjoining room that held the small, rocky pool of water. She stayed in her shadows, praying he would go away just this once. She'd fought him once but now she was alone, alone with this degrading alien that made her skin crawl to look at. Her fingers scraped at the stone when he reappeared, leaving lines of blood to form on her knuckles. She buried her face in the shadows.
"Samantha, Samantha, Samantha..." his jeering face was inches away from hers and she could feel his rank breath on her skin, "you're not the only one who can hide in the shadows."
One of his hands was touching her now, his fingers trespassing on her skin as he worked his way up her leg, no doubt feeling his silken words and explorative touch would bring her out of her cell.
He was wrong.
She pushed further into the wall, lashing out at him with her feet, "No."
"You're mine now, you can't hurt me."
"I can try," her voice was quiet and shaky, her muscles shrinking into the shadows.
He still continued to come nearer, "You can't stop me either."
She curled up tighter.
His leering face moved closer still, "You're friends are dead, they're not coming back for you. You must forget about them."
The words had hit her hard but her face held no sign of the impact.
One of his fingers flicked a stray piece of amber hair from her forehead, "Especially that nasty Colonel. You'll never have to look at him again..."
An unwilling tear fell onto her pale cheek and was cast away desperately by her eyelashes.
He watched the tear fall, "I swear, that if he was still alive I'd make you watch him die. I'd make you watch him begging for his life like the worthless pathetic fool he was."
He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and she snapped, lashing out at him desperately like a cornered animal. He leapt backwards in surprise and she kicked and scratched and spat until he'd backed out into the light, leaving her in her shadows. Her eyes flashed dangerously in the light and she kept her position in the dark, watching as he wiped blood from a gash on his cheek though the crimson liquid was now also blossoming from his nose.
"No matter what you say, he'll never be as worthless and pathetic as you," her fists clenched in the darkness as she uttered the words with a vengeance.
"You, you dog...I will have you, you cannot stop me...."
A guard stepped into the cell, a smug grin settled on his ugly face, "My liege, I have great news."
"I'll see to you later," the Chancellor snarled at her, leaving the room to resume the conversation with the guard.
Shaking she curled up in her corner, lonely, cold and hurt. It couldn't be true, they weren't dead and they would help her. She would not believe him, no matter what he said. He was a liar, a filthy, lying, pathetic man who she wasn't going to take orders from. She stared at the ground, rubbing the tears from her eyes and wishing again that her leader was there with her, there to lead her, there to comfort her and make her laugh...there to protect her. She sighed, and leaned her head against the wall. Shamed and degraded she closed her eyes, hugging herself tightly and trying to cast out the worthless feeling in the depths of her battered soul.
The Chancellor stalked back into the room, his rich red cloak swinging around him menacingly. His lips curled happily at the ends and his grey eyes stared at her, looking down on her as if she were no more that a rag-doll. He studied her, taking in her pale face, her red eyes, the bruises on her arms, her bare legs. The light glinted off his white hair and his evil grin resumed as he clapped his hands. The guard entered, also looking as happy as the Chancellor and dragging something limply across the floor behind him.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here then?"
The guard grinned ferociously, the two men staring down at her as if she was a piece of meat cast between two rabid dogs, eyes hungry.
"It looks like our poor little wench has a friend to share her palace with."
He signalled to the guard and his burden was thrown into the middle of the cell. Whatever or whoever it was, was semiconscious and wounded. The Chancellor kicked it nearer to her, putting the full force of his frustration into his action. She winced when she heard the breathing of the form jolt with the force and sickened, she realised it was a person.
"Oh believe me Samantha, I think you'll find it hard to resist me now," he smiled, "and don't be a whore my sweet, I'll be watching you."
He exited the room, followed by the guard who sealed the door.
Mind reeling she waited until the footsteps quietened before she left her shadow, not wanting to succumb to any such plan the chancellor may have. Satisfied that he was out of range, she crawled across the dirty floor, touching the bundle of rags and blood before her. As gently as she could she rolled the figure onto their side, easing them over gingerly not willing to cause them any more damage. Her heart all but stopped as she watched him take a blood-gurgled breath, fighting against unconsciousness.
She watched, shaken, as he lost the battle.
At that moment, she'd have given anything to be in Netu.
* * *
The embarkation room had never looked so welcome to the archaeologist; Jaffa and Tokra as they mounted the ramp, surrounded by a heavily armed SG-3, 5 and 10. The three teams were all the SGC had to offer at that point in time but the barrage of weaponry between the group was enough to take down a small army. The blue pool of physical unlikeness came to life and the select team of persons stood before it, the blueness reflected strongly in their eyes. The commitment and desire to bring back the missing members of the SGC's flagship team was resounding within them all. Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill would be returning to the planet that was home to the Tauri, that conclusion was resolute.
They would be alive and well, no questions asked.
Jacob's fingers closed wearily around the zat he was holding. He gazed back at the control room, awaiting the order from his old friend to go and rescue his daughter and her CO. Uncle George, a name which bounded back to Sammie's earlier years, gazed back with all the resilience in his eyes of an invincible soldier. Both of them would be damned if they were going to lose Jack and Sam now and both of them held the same determination that only a general who has lost men in the field could have.
Up in the control room Hammond gazed down at the retired General, simply knowing that they would bring his daughter home. The whirr of the computers and the bustle of the pre-battle scientists and technicians radiated around the room, with Siler running last minute diagnostics and other airmen tapping away at the computers. Two SFs stood diligently at the door, still and eerily graceful with their weaponry ready. If anyone would be rescuing them, it would be the family that was the SGC.
Major Paul Davis shed a black cloud on the bustle of the room, gazing at the technology around him with the ideals of the pentagon etched into his young face. He was respectful of the two-star general before him but there was no way that this little feat of heroism was going to go unnoticed. It was time for the unfortunately rolled devil's advocate to make his contribution to the proceedings.
"Sir, do you really think this is a good idea?"
Hammond rounded on the man, bringing himself up to his full height and giving him a look that would make even O'Neill's knees buckle, "Would you care to explain, major?"
Davis stared back at him, knowing he had to get his point across, "With respect...sir," he added hastily, "the ensemble in front of you are the only teams currently on-base. Is it wise to use all of your resources when all of your other teams are currently offworld?"
Hammond's eyes flashed dangerously and Major Paul Davis reached the same conclusion that had faced O'Neill; Hammond could be very scary when he wanted to be- very scary.
"I just don't think it is a good idea..."
"As long as there is a snowballs chance in hell that my officers are still alive, I will do everything in my power to save them."
"Yes sir."
"They have saved the world god knows how many times and it's time the world repaid the favour. Now, do I have to get on the red phone or have I made myself clear, Major?"
Davis merely nodded.
"Now," he signalled to the team in the gate room, "Bring them home. You're good to go."
They plunged through the event horizon one by one, rushing to set up safe ground. There was no apparent threat and the three SGC teams stared around the umbrage that surrounded them, taking in the eerie glow cast by the light streaming through the leaves. Jacob was quick to take control of the situation.
"Teal'c, take point."
Teal'c lifted his staff weapon readily, "Yes Jacob Carter."
The Jaffa was quick to take a lead.
Jacob nodded, "Daniel, do you know how to use one of these?"
It was a stupid question really but he had to be prepared. He handed the zat'nikatel to the blue eyed man who gritted his teeth readily.
"Yup," he responded, firing it up.
"Good," he rounded on the teams, "Major, your team can cover the Stargate."
"Yes sir," the major began to ready his team.
"Colonel, Captain, you will help us get into the fortress. If we run into any trouble you will be our hopes of getting out."
The leaders of the two remaining teams nodded.
"Teal'c, Daniel and myself will enter the fortress. In the likely event that we will meet resistance on making our exit I'll need you to keep our backs covered."
The fiery young female captain smiled at him, "Consider your backs covered, sir."
The remaining bodies of SG-1, who had worked with the younger of the Carters' in the field, were immediately reminded of her through the captain's response; Jacob merely smiled, "Thank-you."
He was reassured by the enthusiasm of the surrounding rescue party and the knowledge of this lifted some of the weight from his shoulders.
Teal'c headed of into the forestry, followed by the party. He cut a large sweeping path into the undergrowth, hardly faltering over the rough terrain. His large figure was resolute, despite sustaining recent injury and his physical prowess was something to be admired as he headed into the planet's heart. Jacob reflected on his daughters choice of friends and was glad that Teal'c was one of them. God help any man that proved to be a hindrance to the operation.
Immersed in thought he hardly noticed Daniel's young form draw up alongside him, "Jacob?" he turned to the brown haired scientist, reflecting how he had changed since they'd last met, the pressure of his friends situation bringing out the hostile in the man, "She'll be ok."
"Hmm."
"He'd never let anyone hurt her."
"I take it we're talking about Jack O'Neill?"
Daniel grinned, "If he reached her then she's safe."
"I know," he gazed up at the sky, watching the azure highlights of night setting in; "It's good to know my daughter has such good friends."
Daniel smiled, wondering what Jacob would say if he really knew, "She does."
* * *
"Oh for crying out loud..." flailing around in the darkness he tried and failed to regain a hold of his precious P-90.
Darkness had fallen dramatically over the ideally lush world of P3X 974 and with it came the ambush that had been waiting to happen. What a clich, outnumbered five to one in darkness so black it made ebony look grey. At least in the daylight five to one odds wouldn't look so bad. Well, maybe if he'd seen them coming and if there wasn't so damn much for him to trip over. The resulting problem confessed itself as a missing gun and alot of pain.
One of the attackers kicked him and the right side of his brain started screaming.
"Who are you?" the voice was gruff, a dull bark that reminded him annoyingly of a drill-sergeant that had held a grudge against him in his earlier years.
"Skywalker?" he vaguely remembered pulling that trick before. The left side of his brain gave up hope and left before it had to start screaming.
"Name!" the voice was this time more demanding.
"Jack O'Neill," he spluttered as another kick forced itself upon him, a heavy clad boot landing him excruciatingly in the ribs.
Pain hurtled through his head as something heavy was brought down at the back of his neck. Amidst the sickly leaves and the soggy dirt underfoot he reflected on how it was a good thing he was still conscious. Another blow sent him face first into the mushy peat, causing him to choke on its contents.
He soon realised this was going to continue until he was out so he guessed maybe his condition would be better if it was worse. Another stroke and he felt blood running down his neck. Maybe acting the hero wasn't such a great idea after all. The gun smashed into him once more and he realised that maybe if he survived he'd be taken to wherever she was. That thought still in his mind he passed out as between them they dragged him away under the loud instruction of an overweight guard with a battle scarred face, dressed in the same pompous garb as the flashy senator he worked for.
* * *
His mind was once again in gear but his muscles were failing him. Struggling to remember why he was lying down he tried to open his eyes but found the pain in his head almost too much to bear. Sighing slightly he resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be moving anytime in the next few moments and he realised he'd maybe pushed the pain barrier a little too far. He decided it would be a better idea to fine-tune his other senses while he waited for his mobility to return.
Unfortunately, something was sending his other senses into turmoil.
Reflecting on the fragments of memory he did have he could tell he was in a cell. Not chained, although he couldn't move anyway, but definitely in a cell. The air around him was damp, musty and smelled of death yet there was a delicate fragrance that was familiar to him, he just couldn't place what it was. The ground beneath him felt soft and judging by the information he had so far gathered he could tell he was in a dank, rotting cell made with a muddy floor and probably impenetrable stone walls; just for effect.
Inwardly he smiled, Carter would have been proud of his amazing skills of deductive reasoning.
Carter...he knew there was a reason why it was bad to be in a cell. Well, unless she was in there...Then again it would be a bad thing because they'd both be captured. Great, he was technically blind and immobile and he'd managed to confuse himself. Great work Jack, really brilliant. He felt the urge to pass out again but fought it successfully.
Training his ears on the sounds in the cell, he found he could only hear his own, frighteningly unsteady breathing. If there was anyone else in the cell, they were either following his mangled airways or they were breathing silently. Then again, they might not be breathing at all.
Suddenly it dawned on him that he was surprisingly comfortable having been so badly injured.
Time for his brain to kick into gear again. Judging by the pressure on various points on his arms and legs someone had tied bandages on his wounds, probably to stem the bleeding. His skin felt cool so either someone had also cleaned him up or it was really cold in the cell. Come to think of it, they weren't mutually exclusive. Mutually exclusive, Carter was rubbing off on him; that would really make her proud.
His mind reeled again as he realised it was becoming very hard to keep focused. Carter, focus on saving his Major. His skin was tingling and he couldn't work out why. He never lost his senses this badly, not even when he was really out of it. Well, unless she flashed one of those smiles...
Concentrating way more than usual he realised what was wrong, someone was present beside him and was absently stroking his hair. Pathetic, he thought to himself, absolutely pathetic. All it took was a little tender loving care from a figure whom, although feeling strangely familiar, he could not identify and his mind hurtled into an emotional gutter. Brilliant...
For crying out loud, focus. He had to focus...focus on what? Carter... Carter smiling. His mind happily gurgled back to the gutter. No, saving Carter. He had to focus on saving Carter. He was concentrating so hard that even the blackness of the inside of his eyelids was starting to feel blurred and pain ripped tirelessly through his skull. He could feel himself sweating under the strain of staying awake. Agony was tearing around his body and, for a few short seconds, he felt as though his entire mainframe was giving up. Was this what a heart attack felt like?
Focus on Carter, Jack focus; the faint grab on consciousness he had was screaming at him as loudly as it could- his conscious could scream pretty loudly when he wanted it to. Either that or his ears were broken.
Arrgh...focus on her.
His vision blurred back into existence and suddenly he found himself focusing on Carter, whose blue eyes were staring down at him in concern.
She'd stopped running her fingers through his hair as he'd woken and he found he was able to string words together coherently again; despite this all he could muster was a quiet, "Carter?"
The owner of the familiar aroma gazed down into his eyes, her baby-blue eyes expressing so much concern for him. He realised that he'd known it was her all along and he found himself reluctantly realising she'd sent his own senses haywire. Well, at least he'd been right about the cell; it was musty with stone walls. One of her hands picked his own up gingerly and his nervous system started running around his body waving the little white flag and screaming SOS. The ability to form coherent sentences again dissipated.
"You looked like you weren't gonna make it for a minute or two sir."
His lips formed a shaky grin and he squeezed her fingers as gently as he could without causing himself an internal injury.
Then he realised the state she was in. Her eyes had lost some of their happy sparkle and were instead sparkling with unshed tears. The skin around them was red and puffy, as if she had been crying a while ago and her clothes were ripped and torn, showing of some of the hideous injuries the chancellor had inflicted on her. He realised she'd ripped the rags she was wearing to create the provisional bandages and suddenly felt guilty.
Her face flushed with an angry embarrassment as he stared at her battered figure, "Don't worry, they're all superficial."
He nodded and watched her for a moment, his mind calculating a way to make her smile, "That's why you should never run with scissors."
Damn his mind.
As a sad smile flitted across her face, he watched her chest heave slightly. Those blue eyes sparkled, heavy with tears that he knew she was desperate to shed but wouldn't, not in front of him. It hurt that she still felt the need to be strong in his eyes, but he guessed she felt she needed to be strong right now.
Of course, he knew she was horribly wrong.
Pulling himself painfully into a sitting position, he brushed off her shaky hand as it bade him to stay still. Whilst one part of his body cried at him to obey his subordinates command, the other, less self-aware side, told him that he needed her to know she didn't have to put on a front. An arm snaked around her waist as he clung to her slightly from the pain before he recovered enough to maintain his own balance. That done, he pulled her against him, letting her lean into his chest, and feeling her tears as they started to fall.
"Sssh..."
"Sir I'm sorry..." she choked through the tears.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Carter," he reassured her, pulling her closer, for once glad that he'd let the barrier down, if only for that small time. She curled up against him, head buried in his T-shirt, oblivious to the dirt it was covered in. Her fingers where still shaking so he took her hand gently, rubbing the cold digits in an attempt to bring back some of her warmth. He lifted her chin gently, needing her to know he didn't blame her.
She found herself melting into the chocolate brown pools before her. The surging tides of her emotions were melding with the calmer seas hidden within his words and she felt his presence wash over her, calming and soothing her adverse emotions. She returned her head to his chest and they settled into the shadows, all thoughts of pain in his mind drifting off as a surge of exhaustion hit him. He drifted to sleep and she soon followed, her fingers still entwined with his.
Body heat combined, she slept for the first time in days, warm, accompanied and safe for those few precious hours.
* * *
The three men stood in silence, the other members of the makeshift team having stopped outside the perimeter gates. All three stared down at the thing, lying there on the ground, churned up and coated in dirt and leaves.
"He got this far then," Jacob's statement sounded wearily hollow, as his eyes remained fastened on it.
Teal'c reached down into the grass and picked up the cast off P-90, remaining as stoic as ever, "Indeed."
With no sign of a body Daniel tried to put on the happy front, "He probably made it."
"Without his gun," he couldn't help but sound doubtful, though Sel'mak gave him a mental beating for it.
"It is most likely that if O'Neill was to drop his weapon he would have reacquired it before continuing."
"Teal'c you saw what state he was in."
"All the same," Jacob continued aimlessly, "three zat blasts..."
His voice trailed off as his tired eyes dropped, Sel'mak choosing that moment to object to her hosts attitude and found the path leaving the area, a strip of land where the ground had been churned up, streaked with mud, "It looks like something has been dragged in this direction."
"Hello Sel'mak," Daniel sounded a little daunted by the sudden appearance.
"I believe it is most likely that O'Neill was taken hostage as he would provide a much more valuable bargaining tool."
"Good point," coincided Daniel, looking at Teal'c.
The Jaffa turned austerely to face the dirt track; "We shall proceed in this direction."
* * *
"Arrgh," he fell heavily against the stone wall, eyes focusing dizzily on the rest of the room his jaw feeling dislocated.
The guard just smiled again, awaiting his next order as she watched the scene unravel.
"Tell me Samantha," the chancellor voice floated silkily across her shoulders as his arms tightened around her, "how many times do you think you can be smashed into a wall before your brain becomes severely damaged?"
She remained silent, her face pale as she watched him struggle to stand up.
"Eldoraan."
The guard responded upon hearing his name, hauling an already battered O'Neill onto his feet and righting him against the wall again. Jack struggle to steady his breathing, aware of the metallic smell of blood that was no doubt sliding from near his temple. His eyes, though dimming continued to stare angrily at the chancellor.
"Don't want to make any guesses yet? Well, lets take another look."
The guard raised his arm in the air, and she shuddered as her CO's eyes closed in anticipation. The blow hit hard, sending him careering into the wall again and causing him to spit another cacophony of blood from his bruised lips. Hands reaching to his head, he fell, sliding down the brickwork and landing on the muddy floor without a sound.
Losing amusement at this new game, he motioned to his guard who promptly returned with a metallic coloured weapon of some kind. To prove an example, he moved to the already injured Colonel and brushed it against his bloody skin.
"Watch this my dear," he snarled into her ear, his grip once again tightening.
Upon reaching contact with the shining red clots of blood, an epiphany of blue sparks flew from the weapon, striking Jack like fiery needles. His limbs twitched involuntarily as the charge continued to spread through him. The guard knocked him again, this time holding the prong against his head.
The pain ripped through him, searing hot through his muscles and burning his heart; his eyes widened in shock as he began to scream.
"Stop," she cried, tears rolling uncontrollably down her face.
He raised one arm in the air to halt the guard, "What was that my sweet?"
"Stop it..." Jack winced from his position on the floor when he heard her pleading to the man that held onto her somewhere in the distant fog of his pain.
"Why would I want to do that Samantha?"
Her azure eyes fell to the floor as she watched the garnishing cracks in the earth; "I'll do anything..."
"No Carter..." his voice was slurred through the bruises.
"Please..." she gulped back a sob, "leave him alone."
The chancellor smiled, showing a set of perfectly formed teeth as his lips curled, baneful, "Eldoraan, put our toy away for now."
The last thing he saw as the guard smashed him back into the wall were her frightened eyes as the chancellor led her away. Trying desperately to combat the man, he swooned on his feet and tried to gather the strength to find the distance. The guard just smiled, watching the man fight with the pain as he closed the door and locked the prisoner in.
* * *
The years of black-ops training had served him well, he conceded, when he was woken by the sound of a key in the lock.
He pulled himself up painfully, leaning against the wall, unwilling to show Carter the extent of his injuries in case she decided to do something stupid again. His mind reeled at the though and he instead focused the rest of his insurmountably failing energy into watching the door.
It blended in with the rest of cell, a stone structure that only stood out because of the black outline around the edges. No light struck from underneath it yet he still watched, fascinated, waiting for the time when they would throw her though it so he could help her. The guard was taking his time.
A thunderous sound filled the cell as the door flew open...
* * *
"Daniel we don't have a lot of time here," Jacob was growing impatient as the archaeologist fumbled with the key in the lock, placing various slips of metal into the small hole in the door. The dim light wasn't helping.
"I'm trying it wont turn," his voice was filled with exasperation.
"Step aside General Carter, Daniel Jackson."
Teal'c raised the staff weapon into the air and took aim carefully at the lock on the door. A bolt of orange electricity blasted out the end of the staff and crippled the door, sending it open with the charred smell of burnt metal as a cloud of grey smoke hit the air.
"Or we could try that," Daniel grinned as he stepped through the door.
His expression changed as Jacob entered behind him, "Oh God..."
They watched as Jack lay on the floor, congealed blood scarring his features. Electricity burns covered his arms and one side of his face and the rest of his skin was a bruised mess, the faint glimmer of hope in his eyes rapidly extinguishing. He tried to stand but fell against the wall, coughing as he tried to breathe and spraying more blood across his clothes as his chest heaved. The pain in his eyes spread like a beacon across the cell.
"Jack," Daniel bolted over, doing everything possible to get his friend off the floor.
"Sam," his eyes swam dizzily.
"No it's me," he hauled his friend onto his feet gingerly, "Teal'c give me a hand..."
"No..." he tried again, this time managing to look at Daniel, "he's got Sam."
* * *
Jacob pushed open another door, cursing under his breath when the room behind was empty, "This is like looking for a pin in a haystack."
"General Carter!" Teal'c exclaimed as he saw Jack practically fall into the room, "here."
Jacob sprinted up the corridor, finding he'd never been so terrified in his life. Eyes wide with fear, his fingers gripped the doorframe and he pulled himself into the room, to find Jack already halfway across it, despite his injured frame.
Lying near the bed was the chancellor, a look of fear etched into his eyes. Crouched on top of him, leg sporting a bleeding bullet wound, lay Sam, fist working as hard as it could to beat the guy into hell. Oblivious to the intruders, she sat there, pale faced, teary eyed, fist pounding repeatedly into the already bloody face.
Two seconds later, the crunching sounds stopped as Jack hauled her off him and collapsed onto the floor, holding her shaking form against him as she sobbed quietly.
A staff-blast rang out and the chancellor stopped writhing in pain, "We must go," instructed Teal'c.
* * *
Her eyes opened and the first thing she noticed was the pain in her leg, which then coupled with bandages around her left shin. Confused, she tried to lift her arms before realising groggily that there was an IV still attached to her arm. She pulled the thing out before closing her eyes, waiting for the drunken feeling to wear off.
The infirmary was scarily quiet and dimly lit so she theorised it was probably night. The smell of disinfectant assaulted her senses, burning her nose as she inhaled the clean air. Blinking away the last remnants of sleep, she hauled herself into a sitting position slowly and began to look at the beds around her.
Her heart sank when she saw they were all empty, save one that had been curtained off at the end of the grey room. She swung her legs off the bed and tried to stand, almost crying out with the pain.
It was at this moment that the figure at the end of her bed stirred and her frustrated eyes met Daniel's sleepy gaze.
"Sam you should be in bed," he scolded, realising too late that she'd attempted to move.
"Where is he..." the grogginess threatened to take over again as Daniel's hand wrapped around her arm.
"Sleep, Sam."
"No..." she fought vainly as he tried to push her onto the bed.
"Sam I'll have to get Janet."
"Daniel please, get me some crutches I have to see him..."
He stared into her eyes to find the turquoise globes on the verge of crying, filled with pain and regret. Leaving her to sit on the edge of the bed, he sought some crutches, closely tailed by Janet looking angry as he returned.
"Samantha Carter get back into that bed."
"Janet please," her fingers fastened themselves around her friends arm as she took the crutches off him.
"Sam he's in a bad way," Janet's eyes had clouded over, projecting Sam's fears.
"Let me see him," she almost shouted, "It's my fault he's like that please..."
Fraiser let go of her arm and she balanced precariously on the crutches. Sticking out the metal struts, she hobbled painfully to the other end of the room, Janet shadowing her every movement carefully as her fingers grasped the edge of the plastic curtain. She pulled it open gingerly and slumped onto the edge of the gurney next to the figure already occupying it.
Her fingers reached out gently and took his hand, noticing the thin tube of the IV still attached through his veins. A burn spanned the side of his face and now he'd been cleaned up the smaller gashes became evident, littering his face like spiders' legs. Amongst the bruising on the deathly pale face, a brown eye was staring up at her.
"Hi sir," she whispered softly, watching a painful smile form on his lips.
He tried to talk but only emitted gurgling noises, wincing at a twinge from his ribs.
"Don't try to talk."
He squeezed her hand in response, closing his good eye painfully though still holding her fingers.
"We're ok sir," she whispered almost inaudibly.
Her words were met by a tiny nod of the head as he settled back into sleep, a tiny smile forming on his battered face.
He slept a dreamless sleep, the last though on his mind that he'd rather die himself than lose her.
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