The Rescue
The Rescue
by Lady Anne
Summary: SG-1 is trapped and marked for sacrifice at sunset. Will Teal'c be able to get help in time to save them?
Category: Action/Adventure, Angst, Challenge, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Episode Related: 101 Children of the Gods
Season: Season 1
Pairing: Team
Rating: FAM
Warnings: none
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: 2005-04-08
Written for the Gengate WordFic challenge. Each paragraph must start with the letters from `Torture Teal'c for a while.'
~~~~~~
Teal'c knew that speed was of the essence. While the sun was still high in the sky, it was already beginning its descent to the horizon. He could feel its malevolent touch as it beat down upon his head causing his throat to be parched and dry and making his clothing stick to him uncomfortably. His body cried out to him to stop if only for a moment to take a drink, rest his muscles, but he could not stop. He would not stop. He was racing against a deadline. He had only until the sun had finished its descent to return with reinforcements from the SGC. He needed them so that he might rescue the rest of his team from the bottom of a ravine where they were trapped, held there like rodents in a cage. Besides the fact that they were completely surrounded by the natives of P9Y-422 without their supplies and with only limited ammunition, they had not, as of yet, been harmed. He intended to make certain that they remained that way.
"Oh, Teal'c," O'Neill's voice over the radio reassured him that all was still well with his friends. Friends. It had been long since he had called anyone that. As First Prime of Apophis, Teal'c had allowed himself no feelings of warmth or kinship for any of the men under his command. Those who served well were rewarded and those who did not died. Teal'c knew that while the Goa'uld did not understand the bond of friendship that might bind their slaves together, they knew well how to exploit it for their own use. Apophis had used friendship against Teal'c once. As his First Prime, Teal'c vowed he would never do so again. O'Neill's voice spoke again in his ear, scattering his thoughts, "How's it going? You at the Stargate yet?" His voice was casual, even calm to someone who did not know him; but Teal'c was discovering that this was the human's way of disguising his worry. Matters in the ravine must be going badly.
"Regrettably, I am not, O'Neill." He was still some distance from the Stargate. Teal'c picked up his pace even more, knowing that he was pushing himself to the limits of his own endurance. The sun overhead was hot, beating down upon his head, conspiring against him. Sweat trickled down his back, but he refused to acknowledge it, or the cramp that was developing in his side, the weakness in his legs. He could not stop because he was hot and thirsty; the lives of the rest of SG-1 depended on him. They trusted him, and he did not intend to betray that trust.
The people of the planet, P9Y-422, had seemed friendly enough when SG-1 arrived through the Chappaa-ai. They welcomed them with gifts of flowers placed around their neck, kissing their cheeks in greeting. Daniel Jackson had theorized that they were of Polynesian descent with their dark hair and eyes. Undoubtedly he was correct. Teal'c had come to trust the young Tau'ri's wisdom very quickly. Teal'c was a warrior as was O'Neill, well versed in the ways of strategy and war; there had been no time to learn of anything else, even if his god would have permitted it. It was not until he met Daniel Jackson and Captain Carter that he knew there were other things to be learned, things like forgiveness and acceptance.
Unfortunately, Daniel Jackson's assessment of the natives as peaceful had proven wrong in this case. But Teal'c did not hold it as entirely his fault, the people had deliberately misled them. They had not told SG-1 that the ravine was a holy place forbidden by all to enter; except for those they deemed to be a sacrifice to their god. The peaceful people of P9Y-422 had effectively laid a trap for SG-1, luring the archaeologist on, telling him of the drawings on the walls deep in the ravine; drawings that spoke of their god and their arrival upon the lush, green world. Unable to resist such a temptation the archaeologist had headed straight for the ravine, with O'Neill and Captain Carter close behind him. Teal'c himself had been scouting farther afield, getting the lay of the land, as O'Neill would say. So it was that he avoided the trap being set for the rest of his team.
"Roger that, Teal'c. Just hurry. Okay? Don't stop to see the sights along the way." The fact that O'Neill felt it necessary to ask him to hurry told Teal'c much of the urgency of the situation. Daniel Jackson found in translating the walls they were trapped within, that the people would not actually sacrifice their victims until sundown. They believed that it was with the last rays of the setting sun that their god walked among them to accept the gifts given to him. It was SG-1's misfortune to arrive during the rites of springs. The people had seen SG-1's arrival through the stone circle as a sign that they were to be this year's sacrifice.
Exhausted beyond measure, Teal'c continued his race with the sun. The shadows were getting longer, the sun dipped lower in the sky. It had taken them most of the morning hours to traverse the distance from the gate to the ravine. If he were to have any hope of rescuing SG-1, he must make it to the gate and return with reinforcements before sunset. Still he continued to run, putting one foot in front of the other, knowing he could not stop. The symbiote within him rolled, in protest, he imagined, at this misuse. There was a time when he would have heeded its urgings to slow down, to stop and drink something, to rest for a time; but no more. The larval Goa'uld symbiote within him was there for his use, not the other way around.
Then, in front of him, a creature emerged from the brush that grew tall on either side of the path. Teal'c had no time to lift his staff weapon to defend himself. He had no time to even see what it looked like. He had an impression of a mass of teeth and claws before he was in a fight for his life. The creature smashed into him, laying him flat on the ground. The breath was knocked from him as the creature slashed through the materials of his vest and shirt. A hot tongue lapped at the blood that pooled there. Distantly he heard the snarl of the creature and felt it heavy on his chest, he could feel the pain of the wound, hot as it rippled through his body. A lesser man would have given up and laid there to die. But Teal'c had been the First Prime of Apophis, he was friend of the Tau'ri and he had sworn to protect them. They were depending upon him to return and rescue them. All his years of training kicked in then and he reacted automatically. Pulling his knees up under the creature, Teal'c thrust up powerfully, throwing the creature from him. It landed heavily on all four paws. Teal'c knew he had only seconds to defend himself.
Expecting the creature to attack him again, Teal'c rolled, and rolled again. He heard the creature as it pounced and snarled in frustration that he was no longer where it thought he should be. He rolled once more and his instincts led him rightly when he found his hand on his staff weapon. There was another snarl to his right as the creature circled its prey. Let it come, this time he was ready for it.
Activating his weapon in a smooth motion, Teal'c pushed himself up onto his knees and fired, again and again. Still the creature charged into him, knocking him flat one more time, its teeth finding his shoulder. Then it was still, pinning him to the ground, its blood mingling with his to soak the ground beneath them. Taking inventory of his wounds, Teal'c could feel the agitation of his symbiote. His wounds were very serious. It would take much effort from the larval Goa'uld to heal them. He could feel the symbiote as it tried to pull him under into the deep healing sleep necessary to heal such a grievous wound. Teal'c knew he must not let himself succumb. The lives of his friends lay in the balance.
Lifting the creature off him was out of the question, although Teal'c did try. Straining he used the last of his remaining strength in the fruitless endeavor. But in the end the creature won, it was as big as Teal'c and just as heavy. Teal'c had never seen the advantage of wanting something that could not be, but Teal'c wished that he had SG-1 there to help him with the problem. It was his belief that together they were at their strongest. Nothing, not even the united strength of the System Lords would be able to prevail over them in the end. If they knew what was good for them, another O'Neillism he had learned, they would surrender now. But Teal'c knew they would not, because they did not know the Tau'ri the way Teal'c was coming to know them. They were a stubborn and determined people with the courage of 100 warriors in their hearts. He was honored to serve with them. He was sorry that his death would mean their death as well. The sun overhead continued to bear down upon him mercilessly, slipping ever downward. Staring up at it caused spots to dance before his eyes. His vision blurred, and he imagined that he could make out shapes that moved toward him.
" ...'C. T. Come on, buddy, talk to me." It seemed to Teal'c that he could hear O'Neill's voice, but he knew that it was just a hallucination. It could not be O'Neill; he was trapped with the rest of SG-1 back in the ravine. Soon he would be a sacrifice to the god of fertility on P9Y-422, an offering so that the crops would grow and children would be born. It was ironic, because O'Neill would do all he could to free the people of their belief in a false god, but he also would not stand by and allow himself and his team to be sacrificed without a fight. At least the rest of SG-1 would not die alone, as small comfort as that may be.
"Come on, Teal'c. Stay with us." Daniel Jackson's soft voice now entreated with him. Teal'c had never known anyone like Daniel Jackson before. The man had every reason to hate him. Teal'c had taken everything he valued from him - his wife, his home, and yet still Daniel Jackson accepted him without reservation. The friendship they shared was one of the most valuable things Teal'c had, he was sorry that his inability to return with help would result in his death. The Tau'ri were going to lose great warriors in their fight against the Goa'uld this day and they didn't even know it yet.
Feeling his life's blood draining from him, Teal'c raged. He had to do something, anything, to keep moving. All depended upon him. He must not let his friends down. Trapped as he was beneath the creature his options were few.
Only, he suddenly realized, he was no longer trapped. The creature stood and moved away. Was he wrong? Was the creature not dead? Then why was it moving away from him? There was something exceedingly strange at work. He struggled to clear his vision so that he could see. Distant shapes moved. And then he knew. It was the people, the natives of P9Y-422. They had decided that it must be all of SG-1 to be sacrificed. They had come for him, also.
Reaching out, groping blindly for his staff weapon to defend himself, a hand took his, a soft warm hand; a voice spoke in his ear, "Easy, Teal'c, you're wounded pretty badly. Lie still and let me try and stop the bleeding." This voice spoke in Captain Carter's voice. Of course, she was the one with field medical training. If he were going to hallucinate someone to take care of him, it would be she. He felt a pressure on the wound, inconsequential when compared with the fire that ran through his body. There was a prick on his arm. He felt himself begin to drift away, his symbiote urging him to sleep.
Agitated he tried to push himself up and found that he could not. He was now bound and being transported. The villagers were taking extra care that he not be allowed to escape. He knew that it was useless to struggle now. He had lost too much blood; the symbiote within him was too weak, its resources stretched to the limit trying to heal his wounds. He took small comfort in the fact that at least he would see the rest of SG-1 before he died.
What would he give now to see Drey'auc one last time, to speak to his son? There were so many things he had never said to Rya'c, so many things he still wished to teach his son. His dream of a free Jaffa nation was going to remain just that now - a dream. There were too few who believed as he did that the gods were false, to few to lead a rebellion. And now his only hope of an ally was going to die with him. Whatever the natives had drugged him with was pulling him down. Combined with the rocking motion of being carried, it was more than Teal'c could resist, he found himself losing his battle with sleep. His breathing evened out and he fell into a restless darkness. Aware of hands moving him, he opened his eyes one last time to see death open its watery maw. He felt its icy grip around him as he fell.
~~~~~
His first thought when he opened his eyes was that it had all been what Daniel Jackson termed a nightmare. Except that he never dreamed. And the pain he felt was all too real. Instead of being a shish kabob at an alien sacrifice, Teal'c found himself lying in a bed in the SGC infirmary. It was dark, and there was quiet all around, but he recognized its unique antiseptic odor, recalled the sounds of the machinery that he heard there. Some part of him even knew that they were connected to him. He stirred, attempting to sit up.
In the chair next to him O'Neill sat with his head leaned back, his eyes closed. Perhaps he was not so soundly asleep as Teal'c supposed him to be because he opened his eyes when Teal'c stirred. He stood, putting a restraining hand on Teal'c's shoulder pushing him back into the bed. "Hey, there, big guy. We were afraid you were out for the count." Teal'c just blinked up at him, unsure what to say. If this was still an hallucination, it was most convincing. "You were in pretty bad shape when we found you," O'Neill whispered, "We were afraid you weren't even going to make it back to the gate." He had no strength to talk, to tell O'Neill how foolish it was of them to stop and rescue him. O'Neill must have read it in the upturned lift of his brow. "You know us, we're stubborn. If Danny managed to talk those people out of sacrificing us, no way were we going to leave you there to die."
Letting himself be pushed back into the bed, Teal'c tried to make sense of what O'Neill was saying. "Carter and Daniel were really worried about you, but the doc made them go lay down for a while. You know how she can be, but I had to stay. I had to make sure you were okay. We couldn't lose you, Teal'c. We can't do this without you." The pull of the drugs was too strong; O'Neill's words were so much noise. It really didn't matter though. Teal'c knew the gist of what he was saying. They had made it once again. Whether he had saved them, or they had saved him, it did not matter. Because the most important thing of all was that they had saved each other.
Easing back into the comfort afforded by the pillows, a comfort he only availed himself of during his brief stints in the infirmary, Teal'c drifted back into the sleep his body needed in order to heal. Tomorrow he would once again join SG-1 in their fight against the Goa'uld. Tonight he slept; secure in the knowledge he was surrounded by friends.
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