Heliopolis Main Archive
A Stargate: SG-1 Fanfiction Site

The Furies Wept

by Nanda
[Reviews - 0]   Printer Chapter or Story
Table of Contents

- Text Size +
When Sul'kesh's footsteps have faded, Carter lies down next to Jack, on the floor. She looks sick again.

Jack waits a minute, deciding whether to ask. "Carter," he says slowly, "you're really sure it's the power source? You're sure we need it?"

"Yes."

"That's it? 'Yes'?"

She turns her head, and she is not pleased. "Yes, Jack. It's the same type of trinium, the same design. I had a while to look at it. I could see where the elements connect."

He's too worn out to formulate an actual opinion. "You're really sure?"

"Yes, Jack." She sits up, and she must notice that he's close to drifting off. "Don't sleep yet. You need to eat some of this green stuff."

"Oh, that sounds incredibly appetizing, thank you."

She smiles at him as she reaches for the bowl. Jack swallows as much as he can bear -- it tastes like Cream of Wheat made with burnt celery -- and slides into sleep hoping the taste will be gone when he opens his eyes again.

It's the Jaffa who wake him up. He checks his watch; he's been out for at least three hours. They storm into the cell, and don't even react to Jack's demands to take him instead. Carter does, though. She tells him with her eyes to shut the fuck up.

So he gets in their way instead, but even he knows that's a joke. A staff weapon smacks into his stomach, and he lands on his ass. The force shield covers the doorway again. Fuck.

He wonders, as he sits there, if those are Sulky's men, if they know what's going to happen to her, if there's anything they can do to make a hand device hurt less, if they'd do it if there were.

He pushes himself to his feet and goes to the door, not caring about his ankle. He hits the wall, slaps the shield.

He realizes quickly that slapping the force shield was a stupid thing to do, and shakes out his hand until the pins and needles stop. They're big needles. Ow.

Then he spends a while wondering if the pins and needles would cover up the pain in his leg, or worsen it. Unable to reach a conclusion on that, he hops to a bench, sits, stares at the ugly gold wall, and tries not to think. He can make himself numb if he wants to. He's good at it, normally.

Today, he hears an old recording in his head, of Baal's voice and Baal's laugh, but this time it's Carter replying with Jack's words. He covers his ears, but that only makes it louder.

And then he hears faint footsteps, long before they turn down the corridor to the cell. It's only one person, so it can't be Carter, but it's a lot better than his own personal soundtrack.

Whoever it is comes nearer, stops. Jack watches, waiting for something to happen, and Jacob Carter peeks around the door jamb.

"Jacob?" Jack says sharply. "What the hell are you doing here?" He hobbles back over to the doorway.

Jacob watches him, hands on hips. His shirt is torn at the chest, the jacket singed on both sleeves. He's still got his pack. "I thought I might rescue you," he says. "And it's good to see you, too. Where's Sam?"

Putting weight on his injured ankle would be better than telling Jacob. So Jack does that, first, and concentrates on the pain. "She's ... Baal's questioning her." Jacob starts. Funny, Baal's interest in Carter must not have occurred to Jacob any more than it did to Jack. "He thinks that thing is a weapon," Jack says. "He wants her to tell him how to use it."

"That thing?"

"You know, the power thing? The one we came here for?"

"Baal has the power supply?" His face shifts through several different emotions while he assembles the implications. He settles on enraged. "Well, she doesn't know how to use it," he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the universe.

"Duh." Oh, very mature, Jack.

Jacob studies him. "Did he ask you, too?"

"No. I'm yesterday's toy."

"Well, shit," Jacob says.

"I know. He only used the hand device last time, though, so ... " Jack waves one hopeful hand in the air.

"Last time?"

"Yeah." He tries to see past Jacob, down the corridor. "Listen, Jacob, this might not be the best place for you to be."

"And it's the best place for you to be? Come on, we've got to get out of here and find Sam." And he reaches for the controls outside the cell.

"No, listen -- " But they both stop and turn toward the sound of several Jaffa approaching.

"Okay, you gotta hide," Jack whispers. "I'll let you know when it's safe to come back."

Jacob frowns, but disappears in the opposite direction from the Jaffa. Jack looks at the time again. She's been gone for just about four hours; they've been in Goa'uld custody for forty-one.

He stands as close to the electric field as he dares, and waits to see her hair.

It's her, and Sulky, and at least one of the guards Sulky brought before. Jack isn't sure about the other one, and he's more interested in Carter right now, anyway.

She looks like crap. Her skin is the same gray-green as their dinner, and she seems to move in slow motion. Sul'kesh lets down the force shield and hands her off to Jack.

"I am sorry, O'Neill," he says. So the Jaffa are both loyal to him, then.

Jack can barely support her, and she doesn't weigh much. "You okay?" he asks as he leads her to the nearest bench.

"No," she says, lying down. "But yes."

Jack sits beside her, his hand on her belly, the Jaffa forgotten. She groans, says, "Oh, God," and leans over the edge to retch.

There isn't much in there, a few bites of the burnt celery stuff. Jack finds it hard not to follow her example, but he holds her head until she draws back and lies down again.

Sul'kesh shifts, no doubt planning to give them some privacy. Jack holds up a hand to stop him.

"Better?" he asks Carter quietly.

"A little."

So he motions Sul'kesh to come nearer. Sul'kesh, in turn, signals his men to take up posts in the corridor. "What is it, O'Neill?" he asks, bending down.

"Yeah, we might have a slight problem. Or not."

Sul'kesh just looks puzzled as Jack stumbles to the doorway and sticks his head out. "Jacob!" he says in his loudest whisper.

Carter stirs behind him. "What? Is he here?"

"Yes, he's here. Jacob!"

There's movement, and the guards both jump, training their weapons on the new player. Jacob freezes, hands in the air.

"No, it's okay," Jack tells them, waving the staff weapons down. "He's with us."

The guards look to Sulky, who nods but doesn't look thrilled, and the weapons go back to neutral. Jacob enters the cell.

"You do seem determined to make this as difficult as possible," Sul'kesh says. He might be angry. Jack doesn't care.

"I know," he says. "I'm sorry you didn't find him first, but he's here now."

"Jack, what the hell is going on?" Jacob asks.

"They're rebels," Jack says. "Carter, look. Jacob's here."

She twists her neck to see her father. "I know. I'm glad you're okay."

Jacob nods sharply, taking in her condition, but he's clearly not willing to give anything away with strangers in the room.

Jack returns to his place next to Carter, perching on the edge. His leg feels like somebody poured gas on it and lit him up. "This is Sul'kesh," he says. "He's in charge."

The two older men scrutinize each other.

"They're gonna get us out, Jacob."

"Then why haven't they done it yet?"

"Because Baal won't go down for his nap."

Jacob looks like he's about to blow. And like he thinks they're all idiots. "Well, we'll just go now."

"We can't," Carter says. Her hands are hiding her face, muffling her voice. "We have to get the power supply. We can't do that while he's awake."

"Jesus, Sam," Jacob says. "It's not important."

"I agree," Jack says.

Carter nudges his hip with her thigh. "Jack, please don't help. And if it's not important, then why are we here?" She drops her arms so she can look at Jacob again. "We've got a better chance of success with Sul'kesh and his Jaffa on our side."

"We cannot assist until Baal is unaware," Sul'kesh says. "I will not endanger more of my men than I must, just as you would not endanger yours."

Jacob huffs and turns to Jack for backup. Jack flinches. "She's right, Jacob."

"You agree with her? You agree with her?"

"Look, I don't like it any more than you do. I want us all home yesterday. But you gotta go with the odds, Jacob."

"We must be quiet!" Sul'kesh warns.

Yeah, his voice might have gotten a little loud there. "Sorry, sorry."

Jacob glowers at Jack. "You sure you trust these guys?"

Jack isn't all the way there yet, but he's getting closer. He nods; Jacob sighs.

"Okay," Jacob says. "We'll do it your way."

Sul'kesh relaxes again. "You we can remove quietly," he tells Jacob. "You are certain you have not been seen?"

Jacob shakes his head impatiently. "Nobody saw me."

Sulky assesses Jacob, appears to conclude that the Tok'ra knows his stuff. "We will hide him," he says, gently, to Carter. Either he knew of their relationship before he met them, or he's figured it out in the last three minutes. Jack suspects the latter. "He will be safe. Go northwest. He will meet you with my men."

Carter pushes herself up a little. "We'll be okay," she says.

"Hey, Jacob, you got any supplies with you? Rations, medicine?"

Jacob drops his pack and digs into it, coming up with a t-shirt that's in even worse shape than the one he has on. He tosses it to Jack. "Clean that up," he says, jerking his chin at the mess on the floor. He keeps digging. "No medkit. No clean clothes, sorry. Three powerbars, an MRE, and some water purification tablets. You need those?"

"Sure, what the hell," Jack says, holding his hands out. Carter might be less likely to puke up purified water. And so might Jack, when his fever gets worse. "Thanks."

Jacob gazes intently at his daughter, and then at Jack. "Be safe," he says. Jack's pretty sure there's a silent or else tacked on at the end.

"We'll be okay," Carter says again. Nobody believes her, but it'll have to do.

As they leave the cell, she lies back and shields her eyes again. Jack listens to the footsteps recede.

"Worse this time?" he asks her.

"Cumulative, I think," she says. "It's getting a little better now."

Jack tears the t-shirt, wets one piece of it with the small pail of water Sul'kesh procured them earlier, and wipes up the floor. Whoever built this place kindly provided a simple hole for bodily functions -- because they couldn't be bothered to clean up after the prisoners, Jack's sure. He pitches the rag; it hits the target and falls.

"Score," Jack says.

Carter drops her hands from her face. "You look like hell," she says, squinting.

"Look who's talking. Take some Advil."

"I don't think I can. We'd just be wasting it."

"Carter ... "

"What does it matter, Jack? Either we'll get out of here before he summons me again, or we won't. My headache is irrelevant. Your fever isn't."

"I don't have a fever, Carter."

"Right," she scoffs.

Jack smiles, giving in, and pushes some hair behind her ear. "Think you can sleep some?"

"No."

Well, okay then. "Did he ask anything different this time?"

"Not really. He kept insisting that his Jaffa were torturing Dad in another room. At least I know that's not true."

Jack looks at the hieroglyphs on the opposite wall, then at the force shield locking them in, then back at her. "That's not all he said, though, is it?"

She sighs, and studies him for a long time. "No."

"Past or future?" he asks.

"What?"

"What he did to me before, or what he's going to do?"

There's a long pause, and her eyes are suspiciously damp. She blinks. "Both."

Jack tugs at a loose thread in his singed trousers, and feels incredibly selfish. "I don't think I can handle it again," he says. He doesn't recognize his own voice. His eyes sting a little, too.

Carter stills his hand with her own. "I know," she says. "But you won't have to. We're getting out."

Jack screws his eyes shut. "Yeah," he says. "Getting out."

"You have to believe me, Jack."

"I do, Carter. I believe you." And then he retreats to the other wall. He can't touch her anymore.

*

More food appears, and more waiting follows. It's the inactivity that's going to make Jack lose it, and make him do something stupid -- like drive Carter even further up a wall.

He gets her to eat half a powerbar, and a couple bites of Air Force-issue macaroni and cheese; she takes a few sips of water. The rest of the food gets hidden away in his pockets. He's not hungry.

Carter dozes, but it's not real sleep. Jack eventually tries to get some rest himself. Instead he stares at the ceiling, only turning occasionally to check on her. He can smell his own sweat. His stomach is jittery. His hands clench and unclench, just wanting to do something.

Jack contemplates how Baal fills his days. Is he toying with his slaves, plotting galactic domination, rubbing his hands together like a bad guy with a goatee, what?

He thinks of the knives neatly arrayed on velvet; he touches his chest where the acid burned through. He doesn't have the scars, but he still feels them sometimes.

Jack's brain is usually a lot easier to shut down than this. He wonders how much Baal has told Carter: the truth, more than the truth, less? Jack saw how much it hurt her to hear it. He'd only revealed a few disjointed pieces, the same to her as to everybody else, and it hasn't come up since they started dating. They've been trying to live like normal people. Right. That worked well.

It's not that he doesn't want her to know. It's more that it must suck to get the details from the guy who sliced and diced him.

God, those knives. He can't -- God. He asked Daniel to help him die; he can't ask the same of Carter. She'd have to do it with her own hands, and it would only be temporary, anyway.

Goddamn that Jacob Carter.

She sniffs, moving a little, and Jack is instantly alert. He's also entirely focused on her -- he doesn't hear anything else, until she says his name and jerks her chin toward the door.

These are Jaffa he doesn't know. They enter the cell, pull her up, and bind her hands. Carter tries to shrug out of their grip, but gives up and shuts her eyes, breathing deeply. Jack stands and finds a staff weapon in his face. "What the hell else does the bastard want?" he says.

The staff weapon covers his mouth, and Jack shuffles out of its way. Carter gives him her shut up look, shaking her head as they lead her out of the cell.

"You will have your turn soon, Tau'ri," the Jaffa behind the staff weapon sneers. Carter looks at him one last time, her face drawn in fear -- she's not even trying to hide it anymore -- and then she's gone.

"I'm her boss," Jack pleads with the last Jaffa. "He should talk to me."

But the Jaffa just spins and leaves. No, no, no.

There has to be a point when repeated exposure to a hand device will shut down the brain, even if it's not a constant stream, right? And then one or both of them will see the inside of that sarcophagus, and that damn light. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Jack felt his soul starting to go, before.

He falls back against the wall. It's knotted with hieroglyphs and his skin is oversensitive from fever; it feels like a row of knives.

*

Jack opens his eyes and fights to identify what startled him.

Running. A Jaffa, running down the corridor to the cell. It feels like Carter's been gone only a few minutes, but he's not surprised when his watch tells him it's been over an hour.

"O'Neill," Sul'kesh says, before Jack can even see him. Jack limps to the door. "Baal has sent for you. We must move quickly."

"Oh, God," Jack says.

"We must alter our plans. If he kills you, we will not be able to revive you without drawing his attention. And we believe he will kill you, as before."

"Yeah, I'd like to avoid that." He can't live through it again. He can't.

Sul'kesh frowns at the interruption. "Listen carefully," he says. "There is little time. The Jaffa who will escort you are loyal to me. Baal has no other guards in the chamber where your woman is. When you arrive, you will steal the zatnik'tel from the Jaffa on your left. You must incapacitate Baal before he activates his personal shield."

"Knock out the snake," Jack says. He feels like his body is vibrating. Maybe it is. "Got it. Your guys, too?"

"Yes. I do not have as many of my own men in place as I would like, but it must suffice."

"Sul'kesh. Thank you."

The Jaffa nods impatiently. "I only ask that when you take the zatnik'tel, you make Baal believe that the guard did not give it willingly. He is one of my finest."

"I will," Jack says. Sul'kesh looks over his shoulder to see if he's been followed. "Sul'kesh. I hope your daughter and her children don't have to bow down to any of them much longer."

"I hope for this as well." He listens. "The guards approach. I must go."

"Thank you," Jack says, but Sul'kesh is already gone.

***
You must login (register) to review.

Support Heliopolis