For Faith in Friends
For Faith in Friends
by Debbie Louise Gough
TITLE: For Faith in Friends
AUTHOR: Debbie Louise Gough
EMAIL: littlemissarty@hotmail.com
CATEGORY: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Series, Smarm
PAIRING: Daniel/Sam
SPOILERS: season three, up to Urgo
SEASON / SEQUEL: 3; sequel to Innocent Dreams and Darkest Memories
RATING: PG-13
CONTENT WARNINGS: adult themes, angst, character death, language, sexual situations, violence
SUMMARY: When Daniel has a run in with Strattenburg he'd rather not have had, he accepts a mission off-world to escape his personal demons. However, the world is not what it appears to be, and soon, he and SG-2 find themselves facing the wrath of the legendary Babylonian god, Enlil
STATUS: Complete
ARCHIVE: Heliopolis
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. We 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 authors. Not to be archived without permission of the authors.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a direct sequel to Innocent Dreams and Darkest Memories, and shamelessly contains graitouis Danny-whumping ;) and D/S shippyness.
so, basically, enjoy and let me know what u think. ps- thanx to Beth,and evry1 else who sent me feedback, and got me to hurry up in this story-;),lol
Four months ago, I nearly died permanently by the hands of my former foster father, Steven Strattenburg. Four months of lying in a bed in an infirmary, in isolation, talking to Mackenzie via the speaker, digressing over my life. And only a few weeks before that I had been turned into a child and brutally tortured by NID. What do those guys have against me anyway? We're on downtime now- though I've moved into a new apartment. Apparently, whilst I lay unconscious- drugged with a tranquilliser dart, Steven totally trashed my apartment. In a way I'm kind of glad I've got a new one- going back to my old one would drag up terrifying memories; and besides, this way, I've got a little extra security to ensure I don't make another 'disappearance', like the last time. I've even got a panic button installed- well, so do Wilson and Johnson, just in case. I still get nightmares though- they haven't gone away; only now they involve Steven trying to kiss me in Area 51, or beating the crap out of me because Cassandra disappeared. Speaking of Cassandra, she's been unbelievably clingy since the whole situation- she keeps coming over to my apartment just to make sure I'm still alive; still here. We took her to Disneyland like we promised we would- though a lot of the time involved the three of us; Wilson, Johnson, and me, exchanging dark looks because Davison should have been there too. She had a great time though- and like all cruel teenagers, dragged me onto all the most-psychotic-most-likely-to-induce-vomiting-and-heart-attacks rides. I always knew there was a good reason we never took her to theme parks before; they're satanic gambling zones designed to knock ten years off your life. Jack would disagree- but hell, he disagrees with everything I say, so nothing new there.
Sam's been pretty clingy as well- though Jack later admitted she had spent the first week of my coma next to me as she felt so guilty that I had holed myself up in my apartment, thus leading to my kidnap. He then admitted that both he and Teal'c had done the same thing, although Teal'c had often gone outside to relieve the guards by the elevator of duty- most were so exhausted that they had collapsed. Whereas before they had been there to ensure visitors didn't get in and risk themselves of contamination, they were now there to make sure no-one from NID came 'to take me away'.
Jack, unfortunately, is keeping to his word, and is taking me fishing tomorrow. Both Sam and Teal'c looked sympathetic when they heard of this, so as Sam pointed out to me; it's his way of ensuring he gets to mother-hen me twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Damn- he's been bad enough as it is, trying to get me to put all the weight back on that I lost to the disease, and now I have to spend a whole week with him?? If I die, I'm going to smack the Powers-That-Be in the nose. If they even have one.
A personal extract from Doctor Daniel Jackson's diary.
Daniel Jackson shivered pitifully in the early-autumn weather, pulling his flak jacket tighter, around his freshly healed ribs. Although he had regained some of the weight loss, it had unfortunately, not been enough to protect him from the icy chill of impending winter. An overhead street lamp shone softly over him, it's soft orange glow highlighting his long mop of light brown hair- four months spent in the Infirmary had meant that he either grow his hair long again, or let Jack or Janet cut it- and as much as he liked them, he didn't trust them enough to trim his hair. Fingering one lock, he smiled faintly- the bright, warm sunlight in Florida had lightened his hair, until it was almost blonde.
Just like when I was a kid.
A scuffled noise caught his attention, and alert, his heart pounding with both adrenaline and fear, he twisted subconsciously to his left, to the source of the noise, and then relaxed- it was just a fox, scrounging for food in the dustbins. One of his most dreaded fears- one that he hadn't revealed even to Mackenzie- was that Steven would return for him- would return to kill him, or to do something even worse.
" You've got to get a grip Daniel," he muttered to himself, " Or Jack will mother-hen you to your death."
To my death. Ha.
In the night, a car shrieked past him, skidding violently as it braked. The irrational fear returning, Daniel stared at it, his heart pounding loudly against his chest. The car seemed irrationally familiar- a sleek blue model Jeep, polished lovingly by its proud owner. He scrunched his eyes open in concentration, racking his mind for a memory- any. Finally, he opened them again, and slumped in relief. The car was gone.
My, my Doctor Jackson, you are jumpy tonight.
His keys bulged in his pocket, burning a hole, as he finally, with immense relief, arrived in the entrance of the block of luxurious apartments.
" Had a good walk sir?" the doorman queried cheerfully, oblivious to the ashen pallor on the younger man's face, or the taut, fearful statement. Daniel nodded blankly, smiling falsely as he brushed past him, towards the flight of stairs. His apartment was on the first floor up, closer to the stairway this time- giving him a clear escape route if ever he needed one.
" Okay, you can calm down Danny-boy, cook your dinner and-" the door swung open as the locked clicked, and Daniel broke off, and gaped.
Vaguely, he noted in the far, nether regions of his mind, the violent pounding of his heart had returned, and a soft cry of surprise had escaped his soft, full lips. A tsunami of fear crashed over him, threatening to overwhelm him, and his keys dropped noiselessly to the floor, landing in a messy heap.
" Hello Daniel," Steven Strattenburg smoothly said from a plush plum leather seat, raising a glass of beer in greetings, " they said you had survived that nasty,nastylittle cold. Shame. I really had hoped you would die."
Daniel swallowed, and tried to reply, but his body betrayed him, and all that came out was another whimper of surprise- fear mingling with it now.
" Oh do come in," Steven laughed coldly, his eyes like ice, " I thought we could talk."
Daniel's blue eyes flitted briefly to the floor, and his muscles locked in paralysing fear. There was a gun there. A gun! Steven had bought a gun into his apartment...a gun that had a silencer on it.
Run you idiot, run!His mind screamed incessantly at him, cursing his inability.
" I really, really don't think so," Daniel managed, his throat suddenly dry, his tongue too big for his mouth. Then before he, or Steven knew what was happening, he had reached for his keys, and, stuffing them into his pocket, and was turning on his heel, stumbling in blind panic down the hall, towards the stairway. His foot caught the carpet, and with a yelp of fear, pain and panic, he crashed to his knees, thrusting his palms out to catch himself. He could hear the soft thuds of footsteps behind him, then the crisp click of a hammer being cocked. Wild, blind panic fuelling him, he pushed himself from the ground, and stumbled forward, flying down the steps at two of a time. There was a brief whiz, and then some plasterboard behind him flew away, chipping, and he spurred himself on, forcing his legs to move faster.
The doorman shot him a surprised look as he flew past him, and then out the doors, back into the dimly lit street.
Come on, come on, come on...Daniel urged himself forward,the car's only just around the corner...
He soared around the corner, the soft thuds behind him growing fainter, and nearly let out a sob of triumph as he reached his car, and yanked the door open viciously. Without even pausing to yank his seat-belt on, he jammed the key into the ignition, willing the car to start. At first the engine just made spluttering, protestant noises, then finally, as if sensing his growing urgency, it spluttered into life, and with a faint roar, he sped away from the curb, ignoring the indignant hoots of other drivers.
In the mirror, he could make out the faint outline of Strattenburg, angrily glaring at him, lowering the useless gun, before turning away with a shrug, and the young archaeologist shuddered, hot tears spilling down his cheeks.
Oh God, oh God...I thought I was safe there...how did he get in? Why did he come back? Oh God, where do I go to now? I can't go home...
Sam was away on holiday, visiting her brother, Mark, and her nephews and nieces; Teal'c was currently on the planet aptly named 'The Land of Light', visiting his family with SG-11, who were on a mineral survey. And Jack...Jack was probably out, buying hoards of six-pack beer with which he intended to put to good use to weasel out some of Daniel's more emotional, and private anxieties. A scared, and angry sob thundering through his body, hot tears spilling down his cheeks, blurring his vision, Daniel sped on through the night, to the one place where he knew he would be safe; The Compound.
Life seems inanely cruel sometimes.
Just when I was beginning to recover from some of my more traumatic experiences in Iraq, just when I no longer woke screaming from a nightmare, or drunk myself into a sleepless stupor, my son, Charlie shot himself in the head with my gun. It was an accident- an accident which I shall never, ever forgive myself for.
Then along came Doctor Daniel Jackson, a true geek if I ever did meet one; he sneezed a lot, wore glasses, dithered on and on about Ancient Egyptians, had an I.Q that was scarily abnormal for a human being, and to top it off, came nicely wrapped with a horrific history as well- his parents died when he just a kid- younger than Charlie-, and to top if off; he's witnessed the whole shebang.
Just when I'd begun- well not so much as like him, more like dislike him a little less than usual- he was killed by a staff weapon blast, trying to save my life. That in my books, accounts for him being one heck of a brilliant geek. My geek. It makes you wonder why life has it out for him; his parents, dead before he's even hit double-digit numbers, abused as a kid for way too many years by a psychotic soldier, and then rejected, just at the height of his career by the archaeology world. Then he died, saving my life, and then turned on Ra, to save it, and everyone else's, once again. And what do we do? We forced him to re-open the Gate, because we had some problems back on Earth. So because of us- (Daniel says it isn't true; that he had a fever, and the Gate had already been unburied) Sha're, his wife who he was madly in love with, was captured and taken as a host. Later on, both were raped by the Goa'uld; Daniel by Hathor, Sha're by Apophis. Daniel died again, on Apophis' ship, trying to save my life again, and, then because of me, nearly died again on Shyla's planet. He cut it pretty darn close with those Machello incidents too- if the bug hadn't been transferred into Teal'c, he would have been stuck in that white room for the rest of his young life.
So, the fact that he was recently turned into a kid, tortured, and grew up just in time to be kidnapped and experimented on, kind of indicates PPTS ( possible post-traumatic stress) in screaming neon lights to me.
I swear, sometimes that kid has the largest suicidal death-wish in the entire, freaking Universe. No-one on the other teams die as much as he does- mainly because when they die, they stay dead. Not Daniel. Noooo, he has to be special, and stay alive- a fact I'm not complaining about, it's just, I wish he could do it when I'm not around, so I'd at least havesomedark hairs left on my head.
Anyway, I'm taking him fishing tomorrow...hopefully, it might cheer him up.
A personal extract taken from Colonel Jack O'Neill's diary.
Colonel Jack O'Neill sat, slumped, in his chair, the television on, a beer glass in his hand. Grinning, he sipped the amber liquid, and hooted encouragingly at the Home team, swearing violently when they missed a chance to shoot.
" Dammit, they're a bunch of yahoo civvie wusses," he groused to Major Wilson, who sat, slumped into a chair next to him, wearing a sly grin. The Major was unnaturally pale- still building up his usual healthy tan after his brush with death, his muscles just beginning to rebuild themselves.
" You're just sore because you're losing our bet," he paused, and his smiled widened, " of hundred-and-fifty bucks...sir."
" Watch it Major, you're coming pretty darn close to insubordination." Jack growled playfully, before raising his glass in a toast. " Besides there's still a chance that my team will win."
Wilson raised a sceptical eyebrow, and grinned wryly as the opposite team scored yet again. Pointedly, he tapped his brown leather wallet.
" Not a chance in hell, flyboy."
The dark cavernous mouth of the Compound had never looked so inviting; so beautiful, Daniel thought in silent relief as, with trembling hands, he steered his car into the Personnel Parking Spaces. Tears, silent and as clear as glass, tracked his cheeks, trickling between faint stubble, and hastily, he swiped them away as the purring of the engine faded to a standstill.
Shaking like hell, he forced his trembling legs away from the pedals, and twisted his body- shaking with adrenaline and shock- around to face the open car door. His mind was numb with shock, questions, questions he had repeatedly asked himself on the journey to the Compound, raced through his mind.
God, why did he come back? Hasn't he hurt me enough?
Secretly, he knew why Steven had returned; had, in fact, known it since he had escaped from his former foster father's grasp when he was a pre-pubescent child.
Revenge would never be enough for the ageing former soldier- Daniel and Mary had taken away his great love; his one true love, when he had been court-martialled. Steven would never be happy until he had kicked, beaten and- Daniel swallowed in disgust- assaulted him. Steven would never claim his revenge until he stood staring down at Daniel's lifeless body.
The very thought scared Daniel like hell; that a person could be so mad, so cold and cruel, that they couldkill, rape and hurt a person, and not even care.
The trouble was, people like that already existed- he had met people just like that several times over. A while ago, Jack had been one of those people- an ex-black Ops man who had inflicted the same amount of damage that had been inflicted upon him. Teal'c too, despite the compassion he showed, had probably once stared down at snivelling soldiers, andsneered, just before he delivered the killing blow.
" Stop it," he muttered bitterly to himself, " stop it, right now. They're your friends. They'renothinglike Steven. No-one in the entire world can be as bad as Steven."
His body on auto-pilot, he moved slowly from the car, to the silver elevator, smiling politely when the soldier on guard duty lazily saluted after he had flashed his I.D- a piece of plastic that separated him from the next man.
When the lift double doors had slid, and sealed him inside the dimly lit chamber, he leant against the cold wall with a relieved sigh; he was on Base, he was safe from Steven. Absently, he tapped in the floor number, and from where he leant, watched in silent apprehension as the lift descended swiftly and silently; 28, 27, 26, 25...the lift continued swiftly, uninterrupted by any staff personnel- for which Daniel was grateful. He doubted he could handle company in his current state of pure hysteria.
God, what am I going to tell Hammond? Or Janet? They'll want to know what I'm doing back on Base, won't they?
Maybe if he was lucky he could sneak back into his quarters, or a VIP room, and sleep there unnoticed, until the month was over...
But no, that wouldn't work; Jack would notice I'm not at home, and the General would have found out from the Guard on duty.
" So, I guess it's the truth then," he muttered sadly to himself, swallowing back a crest of a wave of panic, " Steven came back to kill me."
The elevator, as if in agreement, although Daniel reflected despondently, could also be in mockery, slid to a halt, and emitted a cute little beep, the light flashing simultaneously, announcing his arrival.
Scrubbing a hand through his long fair hair, he smiled bitterly, dimpling, and moved away from the enclosing compounds of the elevator shaft...and froze.
" Doctor Jackson," the General, his jaw dropping in surprise. Next to him stood a marine officer, who, a moment ago had been frowning, and was now smiling gently in relief.
What's going on?Daniel thought in silent suspicion.
If the General was telepathic, he had kept it well hidden; the older man brushed his suit lightly, smiled nervously, and straightened. " We were just trying to contact you," he lightly said, answering Daniel's inward question, " but you never answered the telephone. Or rather...it was answered, once, by another person."
The crest of panic returned; growing larger, into a wave, then a tsunami and for a tense few seconds, Daniel stood there, his chest heaving as he forced air into his panicking body, his sapphire blue eyes locked with the General's own gentle sky blue.
" Steven," he whispered, his voice tinged with both fear and anger. Steven had answered the telephone- he was still there.
" I'm sure you're wondering why we were trying to contact you," the General continued, looking slightly uncomfortable with the direction of conservation, his blue eyes urging Daniel to continue along his route; to resist the tsunami of panic that was threatening to engulf him. " SG-2 recently, on a standard reconnaissance mission- they've been doing SG-1's job for the moment- discovered a planet that hosts a large population of natives...they seem quite friendly, according to Major Feretti. But the problem is..."
" ...No-one can understand what they're saying, and you need me," Daniel interjected. The General looked slightly ashamed.
" That would be pretty much it." He admitted gently, and then turned to the Marine, " Now if you don't mind Sergeant, I need to speak to Doctor Jackson in private in my office..."
The marine- a pretty woman with jet-black hair, and unnervingly pale eyes, nodded understandingly, her eyes flitting momentarily, resting on Daniel's ashen face. Subconsciously, he lifted his pale trembling hand, and wiped it across his face, wiping away the traces of evidence of his tears. " Of course sir," she finally answered.
She retreated, and briefly, Daniel watched her leave- her back was straight, tense, and her hands rested firmly at her side. The General's burning gaze suddenly caught his attention, and with bloodshot eyes, he inhaled sharply, and faced the older man.
" Now, Doctor Jackson," Hammond began as they made their way to his office. "I'll understand if you would rather not take on this mission- it is after all your downtime and as I understand, you were going on a fishing trip with Jack."
" Forced to, actually," Daniel corrected, as the General pushed the door open to his office, revealing a mahogany desk, and two plush leather seats. Hammond chuckled, and pulled out a seat for Daniel to sit in; Daniel remained standing however, looking pointedly at the floor. He knew what was coming next. "General, really, I don't mind- it's about time I got back to work anyway." He forced a chuckle, his mind wandering back to the psychopathic soldier bent on revenge, lounging around in his apartment with a gun.
The General sighed, and his eyes darkened, as he lowered his portly body into a plush leather chair. Daniel bit back the faint whimper rising up his throat.
Please don't ask me...please, don't, General don't...
" You mentioned a certain person named Steven Strattenburg when I mentioned that somebody else answered the phone..." he sighed heavily, and forced Daniel to meet his eyes. " Now Doctor- Daniel...I know this is probably quite traumatic for you, but could you tell me the reason that you came in to work today, and why you mentioned Steven's name...?"
Daniel swallowed, licked his lips, and swallowed again.
" I went for a walk this evening," he finally began, his voice low and choked, " to clear my mind. When I returned, Steven was waiting for me with a gun. It had a silencer on it sir. He spoke to me; invited meinto my own home, and I, well, I said no, and began to run back to my car. He chased after me with the gun; tried to kill me. I escaped and came here because; a.) Sam's on holiday, b.) Jack would probably be out, and-" he lowered his voice in embarrassment, a crimson flush colouring his cheeks, "-c.) The SGC is a high security compound. I figured I would be safe here." The General's eyes darkened in growing fury- fury aimed at Steven- and smiled tightly.
" Trying to escape a killer isn't anything to be afraid of Daniel," he reminded him gently.
" I know that, General," Daniel sighed heavily, and finally took the proffered seat, sinking lightly into it, " It's just that I feel I should have got over fear of Steven by now...I'm a grown man..."
Hammond leant forward, leaning on his elbows, and smiled in a fatherly fashion- his eyes betraying him to the insatiable fury he felt inside.
" Daniel, fear is a natural reaction. When I was five years old I was stung by a wasp; I was afraid of them ever since. Now I'm a two-star General, a father and a Grandfather; one would be well within their rights to tell be I'm a coward because I still fear them- nasty little creatures." He shuffled some papers, and a grim, grave statement replaced his smile. " Now, I'm sure that what Steven Strattenburg did to you was far, far worse than an insect sting..." he paused, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. " I guess, Doctor Jackson, what I am trying to say is that it's alright to be afraid."
Daniel, stunned, stared at the floor.
" Good. I guess then, you'll be wanting to stay the night in the VIP room- I'm afraid your quarters are being used by SG-13; we've had a recent influx of refugees from P0X-142; a temporary situation of course, and there are no more rooms left..."
Daniel cut him off before he could continue, with a weary, sad smile.
" No, it's okay sir. I'll stay in my office- I can sleep on the floor or something if I use an emergency blanket. Save the VIP rooms for actual whole teams or the VIP's or something."
Briefly, the General frowned.
I doubt Doctor Fraisier would approve of that son...
" If you insist...you leave tomorrow at 0500 hours-" he smiled as Daniel winced at the time, and then hid it with a neutral smile. " Make sure you get a good night's rest."
Daniel stared sadly at his spacious office- at the computer in the corner, the chair next to it, and the coffee-pot. A single framed photograph, taken when he had been a child, of his himself and his parents in Egypt, stood proudly by the computer- the one personal touch in such an impersonal room.
" Good night's sleep," he snorted to himself, images of Strattenburg sitting so confidently in his apartment, the gun resting menacingly by his feet, flitting through his mind, one after the other. " Yeah right."
Softly, quietly, he shook the bunched up emergency blanket, until it settled into a lumpy man-sized heap on the floor, and snagged his flak issue jacket, scrunching it up, until it resembled a camouflaged pillow. Muffled shouts in both foreign ( ' Itri ma'tek en ricci emirit!') and English (' I don't give a damn if they're refugees, or that this is a ritual ancient prayer, Rothman, just tell them toshut the hell up!') assaulted his ears through the walls, and sighing, he flicked the light-switch, flooding the room with an inky black darkness.
Yeah right, as if I'll sleep with the nightmares I have,he thought inwardly as he crouched to the floor, removing his glasses, and curled up into a foetal ball under the blanket. He closed his eyes, and yawned in exhaustion of the past few hours.
As if I'll sleep knowing he tried to kill me again.
I love holidays. Really, I do. They allow me to escape the insanity of the work I do, or the trauma of the things I see, hear or have done to me. And it isn't as if we get them often- our work is often so important, that we're almost always pulled out early for a rescue mission, or to translate texts ( Daniel,) or to program the computer to do this or to do that ( me).
But this is one holiday, I can't, for some reason enjoy. I'm staying with Mark and his kids- if only for a short while, to rebuild the bond we lost so long ago. It's been great so far- I've taken Kaye and Stevie, his two kids, to the Institute of Inter-stellar space; I'm sure it bored the hell out of them, and Mark and I are going to the cinema tomorrow.
But I really, really want to go back to work; I feel all itchy and paranoid, as if something is very, very wrong and I can't figure out what. I'm being stupid really; clingy because Daniel nearly died again ( I don't get that; he's no-go area for Good Ol' Grim, yet he still manages to end up in the Infirmary 99% of the time). Besides, Daniel's fishing with the Colonel ( poor thing; I've, unfortunately, born the brunt of endless hour upon hour of all the different species of fish out there). He'll be fine.
He.
Will.
Be.
Fine.
He'd better- Janet keeps on shooting me sly smiles, as if trying to hint at something- and she's not the only one- half of the base ( the half that don't think I'm dating the Colonel, the General, Teal'c, Janet, or-eurgh-Harry Maybourne) seem to think I'm in love with him. In love, as in, inlove-love, not sisterly or friendly love.
And the scary thing about all of that? I'm beginning to think so too.
A personal extract taken from the Journal of Major/Doctor Samantha Carter
The velvety black sky was dotted with stars as Samantha Carter leaned back against the wooden chair, smiling at her brother Mark, and his wife Louise, as they joined her on the porch, hand-in-hand, and holding an Afghan rug.
" Don't want my little sister to catch a cold on holiday," Mark grinned apologetically, " especially when her work on deep-space telemetry is sodamnimportant."
Sam grinned up at him, her cheeks dimpling, her bright blue eyes flashing.
" Of course, being an astrophysicist is nothing compared to being a University lecturer," she retorted teasingly. " Guiding all those young kids into a new experience of life..."
" Enough you two," Louise grinned, swiping at a long mousy brown lock of hair, and sinking softly into the seat beside Sam. Lacing her fingers together, she rested her chin on her hands, and flicked astonishingly grey eyes to greet Sam's own blue eyes. " So, Sam, have you found anyone interesting yet?"
" That Colonel O'Neill seems to be your type of man," Mark added suggestingly, arching an eyebrow, wrapping an arm around his wife.
Sam rolled her eyes.
" One, it would be against regulations," she began, counting down the points with her fingers, " Two, after Jonas, I don't think military men could ever be my type again." She shuddered, and Mark looked to the ground apologetically.
Should I tell them...?
" But yes, there is someone at work I like. But I don't think he knows." She finally relented, smiling inwardly at Louise' delighted beam, and Mark's proud grin. " And before you tell me to go ahead and tell him how I feel, don't. He's...well, a lot of bad stuff has happened to him recently- he was struck down with an unusual disease, and is only just recovering. Now isn't the right time."
She fell silent, her mind flitting back to Daniel's astonishingly blue eyes, his hair- now 'long' and dark blonde- flopping in front of his eyes, and his full lips and pale, drawn face.
There will never be a right time, she sadly thought,not after what's happened to him.
" Daniel! Jackson,wake up!"
A voice, verging on desperation and annoyance, broke through the muffled darkness, drawing Daniel away from his much-needed sleep.
" Sh'uri hanwa resole." He muttered sleepily in what, over twenty years ago, he had begun to consider his native tongue- Egyptian.
Go away.
" Oh no, don't you pull that trick on me Daniel. We have a mission, remember? They're not paying you to sleep on the floor of your office..." a hand shook his shoulder softly, then firmly, and when Daniel refused to stir, the voice sighed irritably. " Damn, we're going to have to use cold water."
Daniel's eyes snapped open in alarm, and sleepily, he pushed himself from the floor, wincing. An image of the folds and buttons of his jacket was imprinted onto his cheek- his face had been pressed against it throughout the night, and now that he was awake, he was uncomfortably aware of how cold it was, and how badly he needed a wash. Feretti- the owner of the voice- obviously thought so too, as he moved away, and wrinkled his nose.
" Jeez Daniel, you really took that one-with-nature-thing too far," Feretti snorted, as Daniel pulled off the emergency blanket, and unsteadily, rose to his feet.
" Wasn't doing that," he muttered tiredly, rubbing his eyes of sleep, and releasing a large, heavy yawn. " All those refugees- there wasn't any room, so I decided to sleep on the floor of my office. More comfy than the chair, anyway." He bought a pale hand to the back of his neck, massaging uncomfortable kinks and knots from it. He still felt tired; exhausted- and shaky from his encounter with Steven the other evening, but as he squinted through bloodshot eyes at Feretti, shrugging on his jacket, and taking the proffered combat boots, military issue tee-shirtdammit, it's the really baggy one that Janet's nurses find so sexy-and fatigues, he also realised he felt safe.
Safe. Safe is good.
Automatically, Feretti turned his back to Daniel as the younger man slipped off his jeans, pulling off his jumper, and jacket at the same time, to slip on the tee shirt, and then pull up the sandy coloured fatigues. As he crouched to pull on the boots, lacing them up with tapering, slender fingers, he peered up through his dark blonde fringe, and asked lightly, " So, what's the time?"
Feretti twisted cautiously to face the Doctor, and smiled grimly.
" 0445," he replied. Daniel made a face. " Didn't the General tell you what time we'd be leaving?"
" Yes, he did," Daniel responded neutrally as he shrugged his smelly, dark green jacket back on ('Your jacket clashes with your shirt' Feretti offered), " But I'd hoped he was joking."
A smile- genuine, nearing a grin- lighted Feretti's features as he held the door open. Automatically, Daniel followed him down the length of the steely grey hall, reluctantly accepting the small pistol and zat gun he handed him.
" I thought the natives were friendly," Daniel said as he glanced uneasily at the small, pocket-sized weaponry. Feretti shot him a guilt-ridden pleading smile.
" They were. Gave Sullet a wreath of flowers. Just couldn't understand a damn word they were saying." He glanced covertly back at the archaeologist, noting the reluctant frown, and the haunted look flitting into his blue eyes. " Look, Jackson, Daniel- it's for defense purposes. It isn't protocol to send soldiers and civilians to planets unarmed, where the Goa'uld could be-a-hiding."
Daniel, silent, his eyes dull, nodded. He had seen too much violence in his thirty-one years. His parents deaths, his foster father's violent and abusive temper, other foster parents violent tendencies...he'd seen Goa'uld death gliders destroy entire cities, just because its inhabitants had seen some strange, alien men. This year, he'd seen and been the victim of an extraordinary amount of violence; so, non-surprisingly, it unnerved him that he might have to use violence himself as a method of defence.
''Even when Steven was beating me to death, or doing...other...things, I never fought back. Too scared I guess...''He'd said that to Mackenzie, shortly after his therapy had begun. It had been during a period when Sam, and Jack had both been ordered to work under threat of expulsion from the Infirmary, and Teal'c had been standing guard outside. Mackenzie, the heartless bastard, had then made him describe, in full, unedited glorious detail what exactly those 'other things' were. Both Daniel and Janet had told him what he could do with such a question, and Sam had looked as though she'd been personally insulted herself when he had confided in with her.
But was I really too scared? I mean, yes, I was terrified- anyone would be- but I always thought it would be wrong to hit back. I would be becoming just like Steven if I did that.
" Look, uh, Daniel." Feretti fell back a step, so that he was in line with the archaeologist, " Not that I'm not grateful or anything, but why are you back so soon? I thought you had another month of downtime."
" I've had too many holidays lately," Daniel shortly said. " And too many of them have resulted in me spending several weeks or months in the Infirmary." He shot the soldier a crooked smile. " I figured I'd try to break that little routine of mine, okay?" Despite the light humour he interjected into his tone, his eyes were unusually dark and haunted; a fact that Feretti easily picked up on. For the rest of the journey to the Embarkation room, they remained silent, and stiff. Finally, after what seemed an eternity of uncomfortable silence, they reached the heavy grey steel doors marked simply in yellow paint 'Embarkation Room'.
" Sorry we're late sir," Feretti crisply said to Hammond, " Daniel was asleep." There was a silent, dark exchange of looks between the two as Daniel scrubbed his eyes of sleep and sheer exhaustion aimed at the world. Briefly, he remembered how he had almost lost the fight to the disease, how he had thought, when he had been so achingly close to death,'So tired, so very tired...tired of life...'
He had very nearly lost the battle once again in the Infirmary, when he had flat-lined.
How many battles can I fight before I really do lose?
" That's understandable Major. I doubt Doctor Jackson has slept for a couple of days," Hammond muttered lowly, out of the tired archaeologist's hearing range. " Just take good care of him. I expect you back in a couple of days."
The thrumming of the inner stone ring grating against the outer ring interrupted the two, and Hammond lightly brushed his suit, smiling confidently at the assembled team, dark shadows of much-needed sleep haunting his gentle blue eyes. Feretti saluted crisply, and moved to join the team; Captain Charles Jennings, Lieutenant Matthew Sullet, Lieutenant Samuel Craig, and temporarily, Daniel Jackson. The two Lieutenants acknowledged him with sleepy grunts, and what could have resembled smiles, and Jennings grinned companionably at his Commanding Officer. Like SG-1, the bonds were rooted deeply, and the team had pulled together to help Feretti when Kawolksy, his best-friend, had died, after being taken over by a Goa'uld.
" Chevron One encoded- Chevron one locked!"
The Sargent on duty, a mug of deep black coffee sitting by the computer, began his litany in a tired, hoarse voice.
Cautiously, the team, as a unit, took a few steps back- the wormhole, however impressive, was just as lethal as it was beautiful.
" Chevron two encoded! Chevron two locked!"
Daniel adjusted his pack- it was minimal, with only a couple of M.R.E's and standard equipment; having only been offered the mission the other night, he hadn't had time to pack his journal.
It wouldn't have mattered anyway- my journal's sitting at home, with...shit. He could be reading my journal!
An icy chill washed over Daniel at this thought, and he shuddered.
" Chevron Three encoded! Chevron three, locked!"
The stone ring grated, the metal 'clamps' latching onto the representations of the constellations, an orange light spilling from them as if in confirmation.
" Chevron four encoded! Chevron locked!"
Daniel yawned, and promised himself that when he returned, he would buy himself the largest mug of black coffee, one man could possibly consume without risking blood poisoning.
" Chevron five encoded! Chevron five locked!" there was a brief pause as the Sargent sleepily rubbed his eyes, and then the litany continued, " Chevron six encoded! Chevron six locked!"
Then finally, came the cry of, " Chevron seven encoded! Chevron seven locked!"
The ring spun slowly for the final time, latching onto the final chevron, hissing loudly. Then it was as if a body of beautiful, unearthly water had exploded from nowhere- a giant of a wave, a watery tunnel even, shot forward, reaching greedily towards the awaiting men, before settling into a blue horizontal wall.
A blue glow rippled across the room, dancing over strands of hair, highlighting pale faces, and haunted eyes. Then from the corner of the room, came General Hammond's voice, warm and uplifting;
" SG-2 you have a go! Good luck."
Concentrating on the floor, Daniel began moving forwards, his boots clanking dully against the metal ramp. He shot a brief glance, a small smile, back towards the General, and disappeared into the solid blue wall.
There were times in his life where Daniel thrived on new experiences, on journeys, and excitement. The icy, nauseating, violent hurling of the vortex was not one of them; especially as he hadn't actually travelled through the Gate for sometime- the last being on his return trip from PJX 759, nearly five months ago, and was having to accustom himself with the violent, horrifying journey all over again.
Choking, bile rising up his throat, he crashed to his knees on the other side, shivering uncontrollably. Feretti's face, pale, misty puffs of air shooting out from his gaping mouth as he drew in breath, swum into his line of vision.
" You okay Jackson?" he asked gently, grasping Daniel's hand with his own gloved hands.
" Eurgh. Yeah, I'm fine. Just having to get used to travelling all over again." Daniel mentally shook himself, brushing crumbling ice from his fatigues, and glanced around their surroundings- they stood in a leafy forest, a cliff-face visible between silvery elm-tree branches. Briefly, Daniel noted that whereas the others were wearing the issue dark green fatigue, he wore a mixture of sandy coloured fatigues, deep green flak jacket, and the issue thin black tee-shirt.
Great. Now I stand out, both in the team, and as a target if there are any potential enemies.
" That Gate is one veryunhappycamper," Feretti commented shortly, shooting the Stargate a disgruntled glare. Jennings, Sullet, and Craig smiled, their expressions bordering on smirks, and shifted their packs, to pull out their own gloves- Feretti had been the only one to have the sense to wear them. Daniel stared longingly at the thick, warm, dark gloves- another luxurious item he had left at home, and shoved his own freezing hands deep into his pockets.
" Where's the city?" he asked through chattering teeth, shooting Sullet a covert smirk. If his theory was correct, then the reasoning behind presenting the soldier with a wreath was not because they were peaceful, but something altogether different.
Feretti raised a finger, and pointed to where the cliff-face was.
" Over there. There' a path leading from the cliff down to it. It's only a couple of miles after that."
Always is.Daniel inwardly replied.
A low mist had settled over the emerald green forest, wrapping around the silver elm-tree branches, settling as dew drops into their hair. Daniel's skin glistened as the heavy mist lightly settled onto it. Shafts of pale sunlight shone through the leaves catching strands of Daniel's golden hair, and dancing mockingly out of reach. Daniel sighed; it was oddly peaceful.
Clunk.
And if you add a few birds and cute fluffy animals, it'd be Disney's idea of heaven,he added sardonically, as his feet crunched against the icy ground, stamping on dead leaves.
Clunk. Clunk.
Daniel froze; he knew that sound. Ahead, Feretti, Jennings, Sullet and Craig moved on clumsily, unaware of the added presence.
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.
He had heard that sound so many times before; echoing down elaborate golden halls, or across golden plains...those boots, that march, destruction wherever it went...he had heard it too many godamn times.
" Uh, Feretti?" he called softly, his eyes flitting nervously around him, his hand curling subconsciously around a zat gun. As the guard of Apophis' ship had proven to him when he had been 'watching' Sam, Jack, Teal'c's and Bra'tac's backs, a pistol would be no good. Or, at least, not in his hands.
Feretti halted, an statement of annoyance flitting across his features a second before he schooled them into a neutral statement.
" What?" he asked snappishly- he was tired, dammit, just like everyone else in SG-2.
Choosing to ignore the snappish tone, Daniel glanced over to the source of the heavy clunks, and softly said in a hushed tone, " Did you hear that?"
Clunk. Clunk.
Feretti, Jennings and the two Lieutenants froze, fear dancing across their faces.
" Jaffa," they simultaneously whispered. The metal clanging of the Jaffa boots echoed eerily close to them, and their hands tightened on their automatic rifles.
" Shit," Feretti moaned through clamped teeth, " this was supposed to be a friendly planet!"
" Where do you think they are?" Daniel asked neutrally. He felt unusually calm- as if he was preparing himself for the very worst. His eyes were dark and haunted as he gazed back to where the Stargate had been. It was clear.
We should probably head back...
" I don't care," Feretti whispered back hoarsely, " just as long as they're as far as possible away from the Stargate, I don't give a damn where they are."
The metal boots clanged ominously in the distance, as if in warning, and Daniel found his eyes straying back to the Stargate. Feretti's, Jennings, Craig's, and Sullet's own worried, haunted eyes followed them. Feretti inhaled sharply, mentally and physically hauling his fragmented soul together, and harshly whispered, " Okay, if those are Jaffa- something which I really don't want to risk confirming- then it's safe to say this is a Goa'uld home-world. Which basically means the mission's scrubbed." He shot a worried glance behind him, pausing as the metal clunks halted, then began once again. Daniel's own breathing was coming out in harsh ragged breaths- a reflection of his own growing panic. " We're going to head back to the Gate people. Watch your backs, and Jackson, you're up front with me."
Crisply, and stealthily, they turned on their heels, cautiously moving back towards the Gate. Daniel, his youthful, slender face, marred with a frown, bit his lip thoughtfully.
Something's wrong.He miserably thought,something is very wrong aside from the obvious.
" Jackson, hurry up!" Feretti snapped at him in a harsh, ragged whisper, desperation and panic creeping into his voice, as he snatched Daniel's arm, and hauled him into line with himself. Despite his oddly calm face, his eyes contained a glint of a man being pushed to his limits- of a man scared of death, and all its demons.
Well I'm scared too, okay?
" Sorry, sorry," Daniel frantically whispered back. His fingers, curled around the zat gun, withdrew from his pocket as he cautiously swung the small silver gun back and forth, in front of his path. He could almost see the approval in Feretti's eyes, for this military pre-cautionary action. Pausing, Daniel's eyes widened in sudden understanding, and unconsciously, he halted violently, pulling Feretti to a stop with him.
" Jackson, are you trying to kill us all?" Feretti exploded in a hushed voice.
" No," Daniel ground out through gritted teeth, his head throbbing with the pressure of being kept hidden. " But doesn't this seem a bit too easy?"
" Yes, let's go." Feretti shortly replied, roughly shoving Daniel forward. Unbalanced, the younger man crashed to his knees, the sound stifled by the soft ground. Angrily, he glared up at Jack's former comrade.
You're too afraid of the Jaffa to care...
Of course, Daniel bitterly reflected as he pushed himself up from the ground, he has every reason to- his best friend was forced to become a host thanks to the lavae Goa'uld Jaffa carry, and thus died. Brushing sodden dirt from his sandy trousers, he narrowed his eyes at the Commanding Officer.
" Look, the Stargate makes a lot of noise when it dials up or out, doesn't it?" He asked quietly, his voice reasonable, as he schooled his angry, dark statement.
" Yes," Feretti impatiently responded, pulling Daniel a few more feet closer to the giant ring, " and your point would be...?"
And I thought you were nice...
" My point would be, Jaffa guard the Gate at all times. From a distance or right next to it; it doesn't matter, because of the noise it makes, or the vibrations it sends through the ground...basically, what I'm trying to say is they would have heard us coming." He pinched the bridge of his nose, and peering up at Feretti through golden lashes, sighed, " This is a trap."
Feretti opened his mouth to respond, and was cut off by a number of things; the first being the sudden hiss of a staff weapon being primed, the second the sharp bark in the guttural language of the Goa'uld, " Kre'tac Tauri!" and the third Daniel's sudden yelp of pain as the staff fired, and a bolt of orange-crimson fire shot out from the weapon, grazing the top of his shoulder.
Waves of crimson hot pain crashed down upon Daniel, overwhelming him, as he crashed down onto his knees, biting his lip until hot blood spilled, to prevent himself from crying with pain.
He sneaked a glance at his shoulder, and nearly vomited at the sight of it; there was a large hole through both his flak jacket and his thin tee-shirt, the material singed at the edges. The skin was raw, red, and blood poured from the wound, trickling down his chest, and soaking the thin material. It was just a graze; he would have been dead if it had hit it's target, but it was maddeningly painful.
Tearing his eyes away from his desecrated shoulder, he glanced up through a dim, blurred tunnel, at the Jaffa standing over him. The large man was leering at him, his eyes dark and angry, his large beefy hand moving...too late, Daniel realised he was about to be hauled to his feet, and forgetting to clamp his teeth together, he let out an agonised howl of pain.
Don't look at the wound, don't look at the wound,he chanted silently, gritting his teeth against the pain, and forcing himself to remain conscious and upright- as long as he was conscious, there was a chance of escape.It hurts, but it'll be okay...don't look at the wound.
A glance to his left revealed Feretti's arms being pulled roughly behind him, the soldier oddly quiet, his face ashen. He even looked faintly apolgetic as he glanced back at Daniel, his eyes conveying a hidden message of,' Damn the bastards...damn them all to Hell'.
To his right, were Craig, Jennings and Sullet, their arms also being pulled behind their backs, their hands being manacled together. A Jaffa moved towards him, and silently, suddenly, roughly yanked his arms, pulling them together, manacling his hands together, rendering escape impossible.
For that moment though, Daniel no longer cared; the pain came crashing down in a giant wave, a tsunami, and an animal howl escaped from his parched lips, followed by another, and another. A black tunnel was closing in on him, and he was going to...
The Jaffa jerked his head back up, and gripped his chin tightly with a beefy hand.
" It is a long walk Tauri. I suggest you stay awake for it, or else you may find yourself as 'one of the Gods'," he said coldly in clear, untainted English. Then without another word, he yanked the chain binding the men together, pulling them forward.
Behind them, the sun, crimson, and the colour of blood, began to slowly, cautiously sink towards the ground.
Humming softly, Jack piled the heavy boxes, filled with bait, fishing rods, canned food and several six-packs of soft fizzy, American beer into the boot of his Jeep. That morning he had gone out to buy supplies- the game had gone long into the night, and had ended with a smug Wilson pocketing fifty bucks.
" Should have learnt by now that that team always loses, O'Neill," he muttered to himself as the mid-afternoon sun lit his grey hair, until it shone like silver. A little more heavily than he had intended, he slammed the boot close, and spun the keys around his middle finger, softly pulling the front door open.
Prepare yourself for a fishing trip like no other Danny-boy...
Pulling down his wide-framed sunglasses, he grinned, turning the key to the engine.
" Oh yeah," he smiled to himself, " a trip like no other."
The journey to Daniel's new pad passed in a sunlit blur; and the sun had began its dance, sinking to the deep cobalt blue ocean like a feather falling from the sky, by the time he had arrived. The sky was crimson, streaked with the dying golden rays of the sun, and grey-pink clouds.
Jogging up the stairs, he paused by a section of the wall; chipped plaster crumbled to the stairway. Jack frowned- he had thought the new block of apartments were slightly more...luxurious than Daniel's last block.
Hey, quit complaining O'Neill, at least you don't have to worry about whether he's going to be mugged or murdered when you're on-world anymore...they probably like it...authentic...
" Yeah, right. Authentic," he repeated listlessly as he came to a halt in front of Daniel's door. Raising a fist, he hammered it against the door, frowning when no-one answered.
" Daniel?" he called softly, hopefully. Lightly, he pushed against the door.
The door swung open, and Jack's frown deepened. Daniel, never, ever, left his flat unlocked; the boy may be careless with his weaponry, but to leave an apartment doorunlocked, was just plain stupid. Something Daniel wasn't and never could be.
" What the hell?!" he blurted as he moved into the room. An old man- maybe a year or two younger than the General- with a full head of grey-white hair and pale, icy eyes, lay sprawled on the couch. Jack knew that man; had seen the photos dredged up from old archives of him, when they were hunting for him. He knew what that man had done to Daniel in the past from his sessions with Mackenzie.
It was Steven Strattenburg.
The man looked up at him, with red-rimmed, drunken eyes, and slurred, " Hello. I knnnnoooow you. You're Colonel Fucking O'Neilllllll..."
Jack reached for the back of his jeans, and pulled out the gun he kept there as a pre-cautionary measure.
" Colonel Jonathon O'Neill, actually," he responded neutrally, swiftly removing the safety. " Where's Daniel?"
Steven laughed drunkenly, and the smell of beer, as far away as he was, wafted over to Jack's nostrils, and he wrinkled his nose. He also knew that smell, recognised it. He had smelt it on his own clothes, his own skin, countless of times after nearly losing Daniel to Grim Reaper, or after he had lost his son, or after he had returned from another Black Op mission. It was the smell of a drunk.
" Daniel ran 'way when he saw me," he grinned darkly and waved his arms widely, "Clever boy. I was gonna shoot him with my gunnnnn..."
Jack gritted his teeth, and reached for the other bulge in his pocket- his mobile phone.
Dammit Daniel, why didn't you come round to my place?He thought frantically, as he tapped in the first of many familiar numbers and places only Daniel would think of running to.
" Sam, phone for you." Mark called from the living room at eight' o'clock the following evening. He wore a smug grin on his face, and waggled his eyebrows teasingly as he recited, " It's Colonel O'Neill. Says he needs to talk to you about something important..."
Sam blushed at the implication behind the words, and breathlessly snatched the telephone from her brother's held out hand.
" Mark!" she hissed, before turning her attention to the Colonel. " Sorry sir-"
She shot Mark a deadly look, as he mouthed with a wicked grin, 'Sir! Sam, I never took you to be that kind of woman!'
"-but I'm staying with my brother Mark and his wife Louise. What can I do for you?"
Thankfully, Louise hauled her husband away from the glowering Major as he grinned widely, and began mouthing suggestive comments.
" Sorry Sam," she apologised gently as she pulled the door shut.
" Just a question Major," Jack's voice, weary and void of his usual dry humour, crackled down the other line, " Is Daniel with you?"
Unconsciously, Sam arched an eyebrow in surprise, her blue eyes narrowing, her lips moving into a deep frown.
" Sir, I'm staying inNew Orleans. Why would Daniel be with me? I thought he was going fishing with you." She replied, her voice tinged with unhidden surprise at this question. If it had been any other time, and Jack hadn't sounded so weary, she would have blushed deeply at the images and many fantasies her mind swiftly dredged up at Daniel's name.
" Damn," Jack cursed so quietly Sam wondered if she had heard him say anything at all.
" Sir?" Her brows knitting, she frowned in confusion at the phone.
" Daniel's missing Major."
Daniel's missing?A soft cry of surprise escaped her lips, and across the room, the door opened, revealing a grinning Mark and an annoyed Louise. Mark's cheeky grin dropped, replaced by a concerned frown at her anguished statement.
" Carter?" Jack queried at her cry, and the blonde Major inhaled sharply, drawing in all her reserves.
He hasn't been kidnapped. This isn't like the last time. This isn't like the last time; he hasn't been kidnapped.
" I'll be on my way sir," she whispered softly into the telephone. There was a soft 'thankyou' from the other line, then the dull, tonal cry that indicated Jack was no longer present. Twisting to her left, she faced her brother and sister-in-law, her eyes tearing up in fear for Daniel. " I'm really, really sorry...but you know that man I told you about?"
" The one that you liked more than you should have?" Louise prompted gently, gliding over to the tall, slim Major, drawing her into an embrace.
" Yes," Sam whispered back, dropping her head to her shoulders, ignoring the inner presence in her mind screaming at the stupidity of letting her guards down.
She glanced up to meet their eyes, darkened with concern.
" He's gone missing."
It was nightfall by the time Daniel collapsed into a crumpled, bloody heap, onto the stone marble floor, swaying as the world tilted from side to side. The wound to his shoulder had been pulled apart, and there was a pungent coppery smell of blood lingering around his body. His feet ached from being forced to walk hundreds of miles, and his shoes were torn, and splattered with blood. Nauseous, he slowly turned his head, to see Feretti being shoved to his knees, his pale face set in grim determination.
" You okay Jackson?" he asked quietly, his eyes straying to the obvious red-raw wound bleeding from his shoulder. Daniel gave a quiet hiss of pain as another wave of blinding agony crashed down over him.
" No," he hissed between ground teeth, " I'm not. I think the wound's become infected." His face, despite its ashen pallor, felt oddly hot, and flushed, and the world looped around him. It would make sense, he deducted as Feretti's face swam in and out of vision, he had been walking all day, and sweat, grime, and probably insects attracted by the scent, had all trickled, seeped and swooped into his wound, infecting it. His gaze falling to the ugly site, he winced at the red, angry lines, streaking away from the hole.
Oh yeah, it's infected.
" Sorry," the soldier whispered back. He looked mildly revolted. Jennings, Craig, and Sullet bowed their heads in their own apologies, and for one brief moment, Daniel allowed a small, feeble smile to stretch across his face.
" Janet's really going to murder me when we return," he sighed, looking to the floor sheepishly. " I think she had hoped that the last time would be it for a while; that I wouldn't be sent to the Infirmary again."
" Does she even know you're on this mission?" Jennings, from Feretti's side, asked curiously, his eyebrow arched.
" I wouldn't like to speculate...but I seriously doubt it. Sure, I'm cleared for duty physically, but I think she's worried I might get Post-Traumatic-Stress Syndrome."
A silver shaft of light fell upon the floor, as behind them, a door creaked open. In too much pain to twist around, Daniel stared pointedly at the floor, at the shaft of light, and felt a bubble of hysteria and worry rise through his veins, as a dark, bulky shadow moved into the light, followed by what looked suspiciously like a squadron of Jaffa. The Jaffa who had caught them stiffened, and straightened to attention, clicking the butts of their staff weapons on the smooth, clean, polished floor.
Or not so clean,Daniel inwardly grimaced as a drop of blood fell from his arm to the pure white floor, staining it.Oh boy, I'm probably bleeding to death, and all I can do is crack a joke.
" Jaffa kree!" the voice behind the shadow called unnecessarily to the Jaffa in the room. It stalked forwards, until Daniel could see a pair of sandal clad feet, then strong, well-muscled tanned legs, and finally a tall, overly-muscled man with glowing eyes. The man stalked towards Daniel, staring distastefully at the wound in his shoulder and the blood slowly snaking its way past Daniel's wrist to the floor. "You have caught the distant travellers my people spoke of? Excellent. Human, where are you from? Answer me!" He gripped Daniel's chin, and then frowned, his eyes burning as hot as amber coals.
Human. Human and very Goa'uld free, thank you very much,Daniel dizzily thought.
" A very free world where we rule ourselves," he jibed against the grip. Abruptly, the man pulled back his hand, and slammed it against Daniel's cheekbone, cracking it. Daniel's entire body shook with the blow, and more blood- this time pouring violently from his nose- dripped to the floor. The Goa'uld reached past him, and took a proffered staff weapon from one of the Guards, and primed it, pushing it roughly against Daniel's neck. The orange energy crackled warningly, burning his skin. The Goa'uld's eyes shifted to Feretti, and langorous smile curved his thin lips.
" You are his leader; I see it in your eyes. If you wish this man to live, I suggest you tell me where you are from."
Feretti looked frantically at Daniel, at the wound in his shoulder, at the blood pouring from his swollen nose, at his broken cheekbone, and finally, at the staff weapon jammed against his neck, ready to fire.
Sorry Jackson, but I can't let you die.
" Tauri! We are from the world of the Tauri!" When the Goa'uld shot him a sceptical glare- a look Feretti admittedly had thought no Goa'uld could achieve- he added desperately, " There was an uprising thousands of years ago; we overthrew the System Lord, Ra. We are a free world."
The staff weapon was yanked viciously away from Daniel's neck, and unconsciously, the young man sighed in relief, wishing his hands were free so he could rub his sore neck.
Surreptitiously, Daniel glanced at the Jaffa- except for the one who had told him it was a long walk, they all bore the same mark- silver crests of two straight horizontal lines, with a third rising up from the centre. Daniel stared at them in shock- he knew that mark; it was the symbol for the Ancient Babylonian God, Enlil.
Which means we are in so much trouble...
From what Daniel knew of the God through inscriptions and pictographs on dusty, crumbling walls, Enlil had been a violent God, who had supposedly created human beings, then when their nose disrupted his heaven, he had sent a plague and famine to wipe them out. The first time, he had been spited by the God, Enki, who had betrayed him behind his back, and had told a young man to present the Gods with food and medicine- it had saved the humans. Enraged, Enlil had sent a great flood wipe all humans out; again, Enki betrayed him, and had told the young man to build a boat and take a few species of animals onto it. The story was similar to that of the Bible, except in this version, Enki had overthrown Enlil, claiming that 'humans were needed to serve the needs of the Gods'. A chill washed throughout Daniel at the implication of such an innocent legend- 'serve the needs of the Gods...' suggested that the humans had served as a 'farm' for the Goa'uld.
So, if this is really Enlil, then he must be pretty pissed off with us- we survived his plagues, famines and floods, and grew stronger- strong enough to work out how to use the Stargate, and bump off a couple of System Lords.
Enlil glared dispassionately at them, and sniffing, said coldly, " Take them to the Courtyard. My people, if they serve me well, will publicly beat them to death."
As he was hauled to his feet, Daniel, through gritted teeth, called in desperation;
"What if we survive? We're getting pretty good at that, as Enki no doubt showed you."
A black, angry look, flitted across Enlil's face, and he stormed over to where Daniel half-stood, half-leant against the Jaffa, his face ashen, sweat and blood trickling down his face, neck and arms. Then with a malicious smile, the Goa'uld dug his fingers into Daniel's wound, his signet ring scraping against the raw skin and nerves.
Unimaginable agony exploded in his shoulder, sending wave after wave of black, black pain crashing over him, and through the dull roar of blood rushing to his ears, he heard an animal howl, a scream really, hurl itself from his mouth, and reverberate around the room. As the wave of darkness closed in on him, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his body sagging limply in the Jaffa's arms, he heard Enlil softly say, his voice as cold as ice; " You will not survive. And if you do, I shall kill you."
Then Daniel knew no more, as the wave crashed over him, carrying him into a painless, cold world of unconsciousness.
In the dimly lit halls of the SGC, Jack stared down at his hands- tanned and trembling- as he balled them into a fist, knocking the wooden door neatly labelled 'General Hammond'. Behind him, Sam paced the floor nervously, scrubbing her short blonde hair, whimpering to herself ' Oh god, please let Daniel be okay, please let him be here...'
Shortly after he had telephoned the Blonde Major, he had telephoned the police, and had had Strattenburg arrested. As far as he knew, the drunken man was locked in a cell, babbling angrily to himself about how he should have 'killed the brat' when he had had the chance. He inhaled sharply, as the door swung open, revealing the portly General, a worn statement on the elderly man's face. Surprise replaced it as he glanced at the two officers.
" Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter. Shouldn't you be enjoying your downtime, or do-"
Jack cut him off with an apologetic scowl, and snapped quickly, " Sorry sir, I'm pretty sure I'm way out of line by saying this like this, but have you seen Daniel? He wasn't at his apartment, and he didn't go to see Sam in Toronto."
The words came out in a rushed heave of air, anger, bitterness and dark worry tingeing his voice, as the Colonel gritted his teeth together to refrain himself from going a step too far and snapping at the General. Sam, he noticed, was looking worriedly at the ground; the last time Daniel had disappeared, she had been the unfortunate one to find his empty, ransacked apartment, and the tranquilliser darts left behind.
The General smiled bitterly, and held up a hand to silence the worried Colonel.
" As I was about to tell you, Doctor Jackson is off-world with SG-2 currently, and isn't expected back for a couple of days."
Relief crashed through Jack's veins, replacing the black hole of worry that had been eating at his soul, inside out. He turned to Sam, and was puzzled to find a half-annoyed, half-puzzled statement marring her fair face; her forehead was creased, her lips pulled back into a taut, grim frown and her eyes had darkened as scattered thoughts of worry flitted through her mind.
" Why?" she asked blankly, her hands now moving from her mussed blonde hair, to her chest, her arms folding defensively, as she hugged her thin body. " Why is he on a mission, instead of on downtime?"
The anger and worry had returned, and Jack whirled to face his commanding officer, the same puzzled, demanding statement on his face. He felt mildly suspicious as a guilt-ridden statement, both pained and sorrowful at the same time, crossed the elder man's face.
" Sir?" he queried slowly, the very same suspicion creeping into his voice.
The General sighed; he had always hated breaking bad news to team members, but to SG-1 no less...
" Jack, Sam," The two airforce officers stiffened, preparing themselves for the worst as the General addressed them by their first names, " Daniel came to the SGC the other night flustered, and looking as if he was on the verge of a breakdown. As it was, we had been trying to contact him, to approach him on the possibility of him joining SG-2 for this mission-" As a dark glare at this new information, settled itself on Jack's face, Hammond held up his hand, "At the time, Jack, the mission was intended to be after you had all returned to duty. After much failed attempts of trying to find Daniel, we telephoned his apartment. Steven Strattenburg answered." Sam paled, and looked as if she wanted to empty the meagre contents of her stomach on the polished floor. She hadn't heard this part of the story- Strattenburg had already been in prison when she had arrived. " As you can imagine, we were rather concerned about this, and were planning to send a couple of soldiers to go and neutralise the situation. Thankfully there was no need- Daniel arrived a few seconds after I issued the order, and told me how he had escaped from Strattenburg after the man had attempted to kill him with a gun. It had a silencer on it Jack."
A soft cry escaped both Jack and Sam's lips, and the Colonel slumped against the wall, aghast. Sam had unfolded her arms, and was wringing her hands together anxiously.
" Oh god," she murmured, " He must have been terrified."
" Why didn't he call me or Carter?" Jack demanded, his face as ashen as the wall behind him. " He would have been..."
"...safer at the SGC. Colonel O'Neill, you seem to forget what Doctor Jackson has experienced in the past year. He's been locked in an Institution, he has lost his wife, he has been turned into a child and tortured, and only recently, became part of an experiment devised by his abusive former foster father, designed to create the ultimate disease. I believe I am justified in saying he would have been and would have felt safer at the Compound."
Jack fell silent; as always, the General was quite right- the SGC had truckloads of security at its disposal, and Daniel could be easily sent off-world into hiding if only for a short while. And what could he offer as safety? A fishing trip and a six-pack of beer. Sneaking a glance at Carter, he saw she too looked partly regretful, as if she were blaming herself...
" Major Carter if you're blaming yourself for Daniel deciding to come here instead of to one of use, I shall personally ensure you're demoted to a lowly Cadet." Jack gruffly said from his position against the wall, his heart not in it for making jokes.
So, what now?He bitterly thought,fishing alone, or cancelling the holiday to wait for Daniel?
There was no choice; not really. Jack glanced up at the same time as Sam, and met Hammond's wizened, grandfatherly eyes. The General nodded his permission to the unspoken question, and added softly;
" You can stay in the VIP guest rooms. As I told Doctor Jackson a few days ago, we have some 'visitors' staying with us...I'll inform you the second Doctor Jackson returns."
It was cold. Very, very cold. Bleakly, Daniel struggled to open his eyes, and groaned as he was assaulted with a thick pungent scent of blood, and tried to move his body. He froze midway through his attempt.
I can't move. Why can't I move??
Shifting his eyes in panic, he glanced either side to him, and sagged back, a frustrated groan slipping through his cracked, dry lips. Shackles, heavy, sharp and cutting into his skin, chafing it until it became raw, held him down, either side. A long chain ran from them, attaching him to a tall, blood-stained post.
It was dawn; bleak light broke through the stormy, dark clouds, falling in pale shafts, lighting his long, shaggy hair, so that it shone like spun gold, and enhanced the pale hue of his milky skin. From what he could make out through the cracked lenses of his glasses, he was in the centre of a courtyard, his blood seeping to stain the flagged paving stones beneath him. If the situation had not been so dire, the view would have been spectacular; opposite him was an archway, revealing a picture-perfect view of the city below the temple or castle he currently vacated. The weak pink-golden shafts of sunlight lit the tops of the roofs, until they sparkled and shone, the colour of gold. Healthy green elm-trees littered the city below him, and the warm sounds of life filtered its way to his tender ears. By every aspect he had ever judged by, he was in heaven.
Bet you're beginning to pine for those Disney birds now, huh?He chided himself. In a way, it made sense- if Enlil the Goa'uld was anything like his legendary self, then he would prefer to overlook the humans, and smite them should they disturb his peace.
" Daniel," a quiet whisper caught his attention, and straining, gritting his teeth against the waves of pain, Daniel twisted to see Feretti, pale-faced and shivering. Like Daniel, he was chained to a post.
" Jennings, Craig, and Sullet were taken to the opposite courtyard," Feretti told him. Daniel nodded and rested his head against the slick, wet, bloody wood. Inwardly, he shivered, wondering what victim had been posted there before him.
" Makes sense," Daniel muttered back, his strength fading slowly- his shoulder was infected. " This is his main courtyard. He must have thought you were out leader, and I was your consultant. The others would have been treated like underlings. Hence the separate courtyard."
Feretti nodded dumbly, not sure if he understood the garbled words, and shot Daniel a covert, worried glance. The younger man's face was ashen- as pale as it had been four months back when he had accompanied O'Neill to rescue them from Area 51-, and blood trickled from the blackened wound to his shoulder, trickling over the red streaks that indicated an infection.
" Man, Daniel," he chuckled hoarsely, " the things you must have done in your past life to deserve this..."
A chuckle, tinged with pain and weariness and other emotions Feretti couldn't identify, forced itself from Daniel's lips, and the younger man, hollow-eyed, twisted his neck, so that the two men faced each other, eye to eye.
" It's going to get worse," Daniel promised. " Or did I just imagine that Enlil ordered us to be publicly beaten to death?"
Feretti cringed. " No, you heard him loud and clear. I think he's been waiting for you to wake up." The soldier paused thoughtfully, and chewed his lower lip.
"Enlil, huh? What kind of name is that?"
Feretti wasn't an idiot- he knew that Enlil was probably some ancient God, buried and acknowledged in tons of scriptures and Sanskrit- but he also knew that Daniel's strength, sapped by the fever his weakened body was contracting, was flagging, and he preferred the young man conscious and definitely alive, rather than unconscious and possibly dead.
" Enlil...he was a God in Ancient Babylonian mythology," Daniel sighed, " he was a bit like Ra in a way; he claimed to have created us, and when we got too noisy, decided he didn't like us anymore, and sent first a famine, and then a plague to wipe us out. Another God, Enki, apparently disagreed with this, and secretly, behind Enlil's back, betrayed him, passing on the cure to the plague and the famine to a young man, who then presented it to the Gods. The humans survived. Enlil, enraged, sent a flood. The mother Goddess was supposed to be distraught over this- and Enki betrayed him one more, by going back to the young man, and telling him to build a raft that would house his family and several species of animals."
" A bit like Noah's ark," Feretti guessed, arching an eyebrow.
" Yeah. Well, Babylonian mythology came from the middle-east, so it probably coerced with the Bible's mythology quite a bit," Daniel muttered, his eyes drooping. " Anyway, it worked. The young man and all those on the boat survived the flood, and made the first sacrifice for the Gods a few days later. The other Gods rebelled against Enlil, and Enki overthrew him, taking his place in the system."
" So, this Enki person could be a friendly guy, right?" Feretti encouraged, hope tingeing his voice.
" Not necessarily. The story sounds suspiciously like a civil war within the Goa'uld system lords. Enki could have been trying to gain Enlil's position of power like Apophis tried with Sokar." A wave of pain surged through Daniel, and he clenched his fist, gritting his teeth against the yell forcing its way through his throat. Adrenaline replaced the pain, and his eyes snapped open, as a new, chilling thought occurred to him. " Besides, we all thought Hathor was a good Goddess because she had tried to save us from Ra's wrath first time round. All she wanted from us though was to make our planet into some Goa'uld breeding grounds."
Feretti slumped in defeat against his post, and Daniel sneaked an apologetic glance over to him.
" Sorry," he muttered sheepishly, a lock of blonde hair falling into his blue eyes, brushing against the cracked lenses of his glasses. " I think too much."
Yeah, you do,Feretti silently agreed,but any noise is better than silence.
In the temple, Enlil scowled heavily at the priestess before him. She was pretty, with glossy jet-black hair, as dark as the night sky, and eyes the colour of jade. And right now, those eyes glowed ferociously, as she begged with him in the dual tone of the Goa'uld.
" They are just humans Enlil, Great One. Since your separation from the System Lords you are in need of armies and ships. Perhaps if we sold them as slaves- the young yellowed hair one, certainly, would attract a large bidder, surely..." she pleaded, falling to her knees. Her host begged inwardly with her, urging her on.
If they are Tauri Celi, then it is our duty to protect them...I spoke with Selmac a year ago, and he told me that the Tok'ra had formed a treaty with the Tauri...that his new host was a Tauri man,Yetta, the host, pleaded.
I know. I was there, do you not remember? I am trying my best Yetta, but Enlil is powerful. More worryingly, he is not a fool like the other system Lords...
Celi glanced pleadingly up at Enlil, her long, tapering fingers laced together in a pleading gesture. Enlil, his eyes lined heavily with kohl, scowled.
" You are quite right Celi. They are humans. This planet is host to millions of humans. The death of a few more will not make a difference." The Goa'uld impatiently snapped, his fingers curling around his hand device, dark bitter thoughts flitting to the surface.
" But they areTauri, oh Great One. There is rumour amongst the System Lords that the Tauri have grown strong. Strong enough to kill Ra, Hathor, Apophis, Sokar, and to befriend the Asguard and the Tok'ra. They would fetch a high price amongst the trade of slavery..." Desperation crawled into her voice, as she retreated respectfully several steps backwards.
" Then perhaps it is best that they die." Enlil snapped viciously, bringing a golden-clad hand forth. A red gem in the centre of his palm began to glow viciously. " I have made my decision Celi, do not question it!"
Celi bowed her head respectfully, contritely, and retreated the length of the room, into the shadows of the coliseums, providing her a good view of the two Tauri men the yellowed hair one, and the leader. The one with the yellow hair seemed to be in a great deal of pain, and in hushed tones, was explaining something to his leader. Her eyes glowed briefly, as the symbiote allowed her host to take control.
Sadly, Yetta glanced at them, and whispered to herself, " I have failed."
By midday, flies gathered around Daniel's bloody shoulder, and he felt a rising urge to vomit all over his legs- the chains restricted him from moving at all, as well as his flagging strength. The sun, a glorious crimson, beat down upon them- without the shade of the elm-trees to protect them, it was undeniably hot.
" Looks like Summer's here," he choked to Feretti, biting his lip at the same time, to prevent himself from crying with frustration and pain.
" Aren't we lucky?" Feretti shot back. His face was red- burned by the sun, and sweat poured down his cheeks, dripping to the floor. Daniel strongly suspected that like Feretti, his own face was pink, burned by the sun, and already knew from the distinct smell, that a dried, crusted brown rivulet of blood had formed a grotesque pattern on its journey to the ground, down his arm. " So, where's this Enlil guy? I thought he wanted us publicly beaten?"
" He did," Daniel dryly said. " Maybe he wants us to burn to death first, then revive us with a sarcophagi."
" Doctor Daniel Jackson, ever the optimist."
A faint, grim grin flashed across Daniel's face, as he tilted his head up to the sky; it was the shade of forget-me-nots- a rich, deep blue, tinged with lavender, and dotted with fat, pure white clouds that lazily rolled across the sky. It was nothing like that morning, or yesterday, when storm clouds had dominated the sky instead, accompanied by icy winds.
Some hushed voices caught his attention, and ignoring Feretti's puzzled frown, Daniel pressed himself against the pole, straining his weakening body as he lowered his gaze. Sure enough, a small crowd of people had begun to flock around them, pointing at them, scowling heavily. One man, overweight, pale brown hair, sticking to his slick, sweat drenched face, pushed his way through the crowd, and glared at them.
It's a High Priest,Daniel thought in dim surprise as he gazed at the man's jade green robes, and the heavy jewellery adorning it. There was a flash of light, and his eyes shifted to the Priest's hands.It's aHighPriest. Crap.
The High Priest held a long, sharp knife, the edges of it dull, tinged with dried coppery blood. Opposite him, Feretti stiffened, and eyed the Priest in horror.
" Daniel?" he queried softly, fear now tinting his voice, lacing in and out, coiled around each individual word, consonant and vowel, " What's going on?"
Trying to ignore the fiery pain lancing through his shoulder, and the fear spurring his adrenaline, and setting his heart racing, Daniel hoarsely hissed back, " He's the High Priest. They were used in the past to make Sacrifices to the Gods. They usually used a, um, long blade."
" What if we survive? We're getting pretty good at that, as Enki no doubt showed you."
" You will not survive. And if you do...I shall kill you."
Daniel could hear his last words before he had awoken in the courtyard, echoing hollowly, as a mock, inside his mind. This was how Enlil was ensuring they remained dead; by having the High Priest cut out their hearts...
That wave of nausea had returned with the pain, and was inching slowly up his throat. Paling, his face taking an unhealthy tinge of green, Daniel looked to the floor, away from the knife. He was afraid- so damn afraid of death, of dying.
" High Priest Delmor? What are you doing here? Your God, Enlil, did not call for you." A silken voice, female and in the contingency of the dual-tone of the Goa'uld, broke the ferocious pounding of his heart, and Daniel opened his eyes (they had been closed?), and blinked rapidly. A young woman, with long, silky jet-black hair that tumbled down her shoulders stood defiantly in front of the High Priest, glaring disdainfully down at the knife. From the back, she looked remarkably like Sha're, and Daniel closed his eyes again, blocking out the painful reminder of his own failure as a husband.
" Priestess Celi...the Great One spoke of a public beating." The High Priest said in a cold, dispassionate voice.
I guess he must kill a lot...we're nothing new...
" Yes, he did." Celi agreed, anger rising her voice several notches, " But he did not call for a High Priest to sacrifice them! They are to die in andishonourableway, Delmor!"
The High Priest, his heavy scowl returning, pocketed the knife sulkily, and turned his back on the Goa'uld, disappearing back into the crowd.
Celi glanced at Daniel and Feretti briefly, and for a brief moment, Daniel thought he saw sorrow in her eyes.
" The beating may now begin," she softly said, and then turned away from the two men and the crowd, disappearing into a row of marble colloseams. Briefly, Daniel watched her leave and then as a primal scream of rage filled the air, tore his eyes away from her back. Women, childrenmy God, they bring children to witness public beatings?and men, their faces equal, black anger colouring their eyes, causing a deep crimson flush to seep into their skin, stood before them, brandishing varieties of weaponry- whips, both spiked with glass, and plain leather, sticks, heavy and thick, and large, sharp stones that glistened in the sunlight.
Naquada-a bitter chuckle tore through his throat, as the first stone flew, whistling threw the air, slicing the newly healed gash across his shattered cheekbone-we're going to be killed by the same material that made it possible for us to travel here. How's that for irony?
Lieutenant Craig shivered in the bright sunlight, as the first scream of many filled the air, and sneaked a covert glance at Jennings, ashen faced beneath the deep burn, and Sullet, who was stoically glaring at the floor.
" Jackson," Jennings whispered hoarsely, " that was Jackson."
" At least he's still alive," Sullet said dispassionately, his eyes still fixated on the floor, unaware of the dark glares his other two team-mates had shot him in response.
Another scream, lower in pitch, joined, and then merged with Jackson's, until all that could be heard were yells and screams of unimaginable agony, as they echoed and bounced off marble walls, and colloseams.
" And that was Loui Feretti," Craig dully added. They sat like that, shivering despite the immense heat, trying to block out the pain-filled screams that tore through the air and sliced through their souls, for hours, until the screams had faded, and instead, it was their own that filled the air, instead of Jackson's and Feretti's.
Everything hurt, ached, bled and pierced his shattered soul, dragging Daniel away from the safety and comfort of his soul. After the stones, so sharp, that bit their skin, had come the sticks- heavy and strong, breaking bone, as the two men had scrambled to escape them, whimpering when they had no strength or energy left to scream. And after that...had come the whips- sharp, tearing into his skin, opening old wounds, spilling his dark blood, his life-force...
Painfully, he forced his eyes open, pain lancing through his forehead, like fire. He was no longer in the courtyard, but back in the temple, under the cool protection of the shade. His glasses were gone as well, smashed into silver shards by the wooden sticks, and two figures, shrouded by the flickering shadows, stood arguing.
" I do not understand how they survived!" A male voice, deep, containing the double-echo of the Goa'uld, snarled in fury.
" They are the Tauri Enlil. They are stronger than we have acknowledged in the past." The silken voice of Celi, the Priestess who had saved their lives from Delmor's blade retorted respectfully.
" But Delmor should have sacrificed them in my name! Why has he neglected his duty?"
In his delirious state, Daniel frowned, the woman's earlier words revolving around his mind;
" High Priest Delmor? What are you doing here? Your God, Enlil, did not call for you."
" Priestess Celi...the Great One spoke of a public beating."
" Yes, he did. But he did not call for a High Priest to sacrifice them! They are to die in an dishonourable way, Delmor!"
She had lied for them. But why? Groggily, Daniel tried to move, then, as a tidal force of pain exploded in various parts of his body, decided against it, and sagged back onto the cold floor, holding his breath.
" Maybe it is time you sought yourself a new High Priest, Enlil. Delmor grows old and forgetful..." her voice echoed around the cold room, slicing through the threads of hope that had begun to move throughout Daniel's body.
She only helped us, to help herself,he regretfully thought.
" Maybe. Have my Jaffa come to my courtyard tomorrow- they shall battle with these Tauri, and kill them. Let their deaths be an example to my people."
Daniel, through a globe of pain, groaned faintly, softly. After surviving the beating, all that it had resulted in was delaying their deaths until the next day.
" My Lord! Surely their survival does not tell you of their strength? Would it not be wiser for you to sell them as slaves?" Again, Celi's tone had taken on an edge of desperation, and through his blurry vision, he watched as she interlaced her fingers together, bowing her head respectfully. Enlil glared at her in disgust.
" Why are you so insistent we save their lives?" He snarled. There was a paused silence, in which Celi remained dutifully silent, and Enlil suddenly smiled coyly. "Is it because you like the young one, with the yellow hair? Or the leader?"
Even from his position, and his blurry vision, Daniel could see the crimson flush colouring Celi's fair skin.
So that's why she wants to save us...she wants me as a slave, and herself as High Priest.
" Yes my Lord," she said in a mere whisper.
Enlil laughed; his laugh filling the temple, deep, with the double resonance of the Goa'uld tingeing it. It was a sickening sight as his lips twisted into a sneer, and his eyes, white-hot as they glowed, fell upon Daniel's unmoving form, the glow disappearing, and replaced by a leer instead. Immediately, Daniel closed his eyes, and held his breath, his body automatically tensing.
" Celi dear, the Tauri man is awake, and is attempting to listen to our conservation; he is not worthy to be a slave. Do not worry; there are thousands of people who are worthy of such a title, in the city." Enlil chuckled, his voice cold. Daniel stiffened with fear as his booted feet marched over to where he lay.
" Open your eyes Tauri." Enlil commanded.
Reluctantly, knowing to resist would only result in pain, Daniel forced his swollen eyes open, hissing in pain as a cut above his eyebrow leaked blood into the lower lid of his eyes. Enlil, for some reason, found this funny.
" What is your name?"
" Daniel. Daniel Jackson." Daniel wheezed back; his chest had grown tighter, and he could feel his skin tear apart at the movements his words caused him. His clothes were torn and soaked in blood, and once again, he was staining the beautiful white marble floor with his life-force.
" Daniel." Enlil rolled his name around his mouth, and smiled coldly, dispassionately. " You shall do battle with my Jaffa tomorrow morning, and then, if you survive, you shall be drowned in the Lake of Sorrow."
Daniel's forehead creased in confusion, thin rivulets of blood emphasising each crease, each fold of the skin.
" Lake of Sorrow," he blurted, his voice sounding horrible; thin and reedy. " That doesn't sound anything like Babylonian mythology."
" It is not," Enlil admitted, his eyes cold, " It existed before I came to this world, and enslaved these people. It is their own faith; the Lake of Sorrow is a body of water where nothing but death can exist."
He smirked down at Daniel, and bent down, digging his fingers into Daniel's bloody shoulder. The scream exploded from Daniel's throat, as waves of unimaginable agony rippled over his body. Darkness was closing in, and in one conflicting moment, he thought he would both pass out, and throw up on Enlil's beautiful robes; then the nausea receded, leaving only the pain and the growing darkness.
Above him, Enlil moved away, and his voice fading, as if spoken from a far away distance, said: " Rest for now Daniel Jackson. You have your battle and your death to look forward to tomorrow."
Master Bra'tac was an old Jaffa at 135 years old, and with cynical deep brown eyes, he glared at the young Jaffa before him and cried; " The Tauri man Daniel Jackson has been taken?Tel'ma en sifico!"
In the dim, dying sun of Chulak, his silver armour shone, glistening, as he twirled his staff weapon between his fingers, resting the butt of the curved end on the sodden earth. In his escape from Apophis, he had entrusted a young Jaffa who, like Teal'c was both strong and wise, to train other Jaffa on other worlds. He had hoped that before he died, he would at least be happy in the knowledge that at least one fleet of Jaffa who opposed the Goa'uld existed. The young Jaffa, Tonat, had been deployed to another world before Apophis had been taken prisoner by Sokar, and had regularly visited Chulak, telling stories of a Goa'uld named Enlil.
" I am sorry Master Bra'tac," Tonat bowed his head in sorrow, " I injured the one named Jackson with the hope that by doing so, Enlil would entrust them to the city dwellers, and I could thus send them through the Cha'appai." He lowered his gaze to the deep green grass. " It did not work. Enlil ordered the people to kill them through a public beating."
Bra'tac caught his breath, his face creasing in worry, a thousand wrinkles lined with dirt, each with it's own story.
How am I to tell O'Neill, or Teal'c that the one they sought to protect is now dead because of my failed training?
" Are they still alive?" he asked quietly, his mind churning a thousand different plans. Tonat raised his gaze, until it levelled with his Master's.
" Yes, Master, they are. However, Enlil has called all Jaffa on the planet to return to the temple at first light tomorrow, to battle the men. I will do what I can Master, but Daniel Jackson and the other Tauri will surely die; Enlil is powerful and wise. He knows the threat they pose."
Bra'tac thought for a moment, and firmly, he twirled his staff weapon so that the curved head faced the sky instead, set his face into a glare, and determinedly, snapped, " As do I. Return Tonat, and protect the Tauri. I shall return to the Tauri home-world- O'Neill shall wish to hear of this, as shall Hammond of Texas."
The sky was velvety, and as dark as Hell, Sam reflected silently as she sat on the solitary metal bench, on the mountain, gazing up at the stars.
Wonder which one of them Daniel's on?
" Carter," Jack's voice, gruff and tinged with surprise, broke through Sam's silent reverie, and blinking, she glanced over at Jack.
" Sir," she responded, raising a hand to wave him over. The Colonel, still dressed in his jeans from earlier on, now wore a SGC issue flak jacket over his tee-shirt, and was rubbing his eyes tiredly.
" Wondered where you were when you didn't show in the Commissionary for dinner." He explained, as he lowered his lean body into the space. For a brief moment, Sam frowned in confusion, and then a smile lit her face.
" Sorry sir, I had one of the Cadets bring me up a pizza. I like to know what I'm eating nowadays." She gestured to the empty pizza box, resting forlornly beside her, with a cheeky smile. Jack nodded in understanding.
" And...what are you doing up here, when there's a perfectly good VIP room waiting for you on Base?"
Sam paused, reluctant to answer this question. How was she supposed to explain her unease, the feeling that something was very wrong with the whole scenario?
" Something isn't right sir," she finally sighed. " I mean, yes, the whole scenario with Strattenburg returning isn't right, but I mean off-world. I can't help but think that something's gone wrong for SG-2 and Daniel."
Jack arched an eyebrow in surprise.
" And I thought I was the pessimist on this team. Carter, Daniel's in good hands- he has Feretti watching over him for starters. He'll be fine. Besides, he returns tomorrow- we can give him a good talking to then, okay?" He said reassuringly, placing his palms on his knees, and standing up.
" If you say so sir."
" I say so. Now, how about we return to Base? I hear those refugees Hammond bought back have somefineritual ancient prayers that they scream every night."
Sam reluctantly stood, crumpling up the empty, greasy pizza box, and dusting her trousers with the palms of her hands. As she followed the Colonel down the length of the hill, she shot one particularly bright star one last glance.
You better be okay Daniel. Too much has happened to you for you to cope alone.
Daniel woke shortly before the shafts of weak, pale sunlight feel through the Temple columns, his body aching, sharp flashes of agonising pain flitting through his body. If he pretended hard enough, he could convince himself that his shoulder didn't hurt anymore- his body ached all over, taking his attention away from it. And if he closed his eyes, he could pretend that his heart wasn't constantly throbbing with fear, that he wasn't afraid.
Glancing around, he started in surprise as Feretti's pale blue eyes, wide with fear, gazed back at him. He had never seen the soldier so afraid- usually, Feretti hid behind his fear with wit and anger.
I guess when it stares you right in the eyes, you can't pretend you're afraid of dying.
" The Jaffa are coming," Feretti whispered hoarsely. Like Daniel, blood caked his face, streaming from various contusions on his face, and body, into his eyes. Through blood caked eyelashes, Daniel stared at him in horror. " They should be here in a few minutes."
As Daniel continued to stare at him, he relented, " I woke an hour before you did, when the first Jaffa warrior arrived. He said the rest would be there in a few minutes."
" Damn," Daniel muttered, " then we're pretty much screwed. I've only got my zat gun, and the pistol for weaponry."
" I've got a knife in my boots," Feretti offered, then suddenly winced, " But I think it's slashed my ankle."
Clunk. Clunk.
The familiar clanking of iron boots, each thud moving in the exact time as Daniel's heart, broke their hushed whispers. He was scared, terrified, and was going to look death in the eye. Opposite them, Jennings, Craig, and Sullet, bruised and bloody, were hauled to their feet. Their heads lolled as they blinked their way into consciousness, groaning in pain, swear words on the tips of their tongues. Jennings swore viciously as he opened his swollen eyes, and caught site of the bloody and bruised Daniel and Feretti.
" Loui," he hissed through his teeth, " Jackson. Jeez, what happened to you guys? You look like you've both been run over by a psychotic lawn mower."
" Feel like it too," Daniel hoarsely hissed back, grinding his teeth together to block the screams that sat on the tip of his tongue, as he was roughly hauled to his feet. He swayed, the world looping crazily around him, his face and body too hot, sweat mingling with blood, and settled for leaning against the Jaffa holding him.
" Sticks and stones," Feretti added. " Lots and lots of sticks and stones."
Enlil, swathed in royal robes, entered the vicinity, prowling like a panther, smiling smugly as he paused before Daniel.
" I admit," he began, " that the Tauri are a lot stronger and stubborn than I had taken them for. But those traits will not save you this time, Daniel Jackson." His hand lingered over Daniel's ruined shoulder, and automatically, the younger man tensed, preparing himself for a world of unimaginable, white-hot agony. Enlil laughed, and moved away.
" Take them back to the courtyard," he sniffed dismissively, " You shall battle them there, and if they are still alive at the end, you shall weigh them and drown them in the Lake of Sorrow."
Dully, through blurred, blood-tinted vision, Daniel watched Enlil retreat as he was hauled from the room, back to the Courtyard. Now that he had returned to full consciousness, the dull pain had faded away, replaced by piercing agony, and it was taking the majority of his energy to remain conscious and upright.
How the fuck are we going to battle Jaffa in this condition?He faintly thought. From Feretti's, Jennings, Craig's, and Sullet's expressions, it was clear they thought the same thing.
Weakly, he dropped his hand to his torn side pocket, his fingers curling tentatively around the heavy weight of the zat gun. He found it hard to believe that he had been unconscious all that night, and Enlil hadn't thought to search his pockets for weaponry.
Not that it makes a difference. If we survive, we're going to be drowned anyway.
Weakly, he blinked against the pale, cold sunlight as he was thrust into the courtyard. The crowd were back, waiting expectantly, carrying shackles and heavy weights.
Feretti, Jennings, Sullet and Craig were pushed away from the Jaffa, and they stumbled against Daniel. The younger man swayed, and tightened his grip on the zatnikitel.
" Jaffa, kree!" the large one who had captured them snarled. There was a sorrowful glint in his eyes, as if this were on battle he would rather not fight. He nodded to the assembled team and Daniel. " Now we battle."
The last of Daniel's fear fled to the depths of his soul, as adrenaline spurred his dying body on, and he withdrew the small, silver gun, and yelped at SG-2, "Duck!"
Feretti, enlightenment dawning in his eyes, forced the two groggy Lieutenants heads down, frowning apologetically. Jennings, out of the line of fire, raised his eyebrows approvingly as Daniel fired, a bright blue streak of energy darting forward, striking the nearest Jaffa. The alien yelled in pain as electricity danced over his metal armour, and hovered over his pouch. However, he stayed upright, glaring angrily-Dammit, I forgot how much stronger than humans Jaffa actually are.
A herd of Jaffa stormed forward, their staff weapons raised, enraged yells tearing from their throats. Desperately, Daniel fired again, and again, but it made no difference; the Jaffa were too strong and too angry to be stopped. One near him swung his heavy staff weapon, and laughed as it caught Daniel's midriff, causing the young archaeologist to double over, wheezing, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. His legs gave way, and he crashed to the floor, his chest heaving in desperation. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Feretti yell, and then slump forward, unconscious as the staff weapon struck the base of his skull. Jennings followed him, crashing to the ground face first. Finally, the two Lieutenants collapsed as a Jaffa slammed his fist against their temples. Daniel, still wheezing, pain exploding around his body, his muscles and limbs and bones screaming in protest.
The battle was over before it had truly begun.
" Drown them," Enlil coldly said, turning on his heel. Daniel gazed after him in panic as he was hauled to his feet, shackles attached to heavy weights clamped over his fragile ankles. SG-2's bodies were lifted from the floor, similar weights clamped to their feet, and the Jaffa Daniel had hit earlier on smugly prodded him forward, laughing when he stumbled, the heavy weights dragging him to the floor. They continued like that for ten minutes- Daniel crashing to his knees, the world looping around him, and the Jaffa merely laughing coldly.
I'm alone,he realised sadly as he shot a covert glance to the limp bodies of SG-2,and crap, I'm going to die by suffocation.
His chest constricted painfully as the Lake came into view. It was beautiful- a deep, deep blue, the sky and landscape reflected in it's still waters. But despite it's beauty, it had an air of death to it; there were no water-plants, lilies or any signs of life disturbing the still water.
There was nothing.
When he reached the edge of the water, Daniel twisted to the crowd of people behind him.
" This is wrong!" he cried desperately, panic and pain dominating his body, " Enlil isn't a God! He's nothing like a God!" From the corner of his eye, he caught site of the woman, Celi, tears freely cascading down her cheeks, from her glowing eyes. " Please!"
One small boy looked uncertainly over to what could have been his father, and dropped his head regretfully when the man glared at him.
"He isn't a God! Why don't yo-" his hysterical screams were broken off midway, by a sudden, heavy shove from the small of his back. Caught off-guard, Daniel tumbled forward, the heavy weights carrying him onwards, and dragging his dying body into the icy cold Lake.
If Daniel had thought he knew what pain was from the earlier beatings, he was wrong. The icy water curled around his chest, seeping into his wounds, and fresh pain, unlike any other he had felt before, exploded with in him. Around him, through the blurred darkness of the water, his blood was coiling in smoky red clouds, staining the glassy water. His chest constricted, as his body began to frantically scream for air, and his eyes widened in panic. Desperately, he kicked his legs, the action useless as he was slowly dragged to the bottom of the deep Lake.
I'm going to die! I'm going to die! God, someone help me, I'm going to die, and Jack, Sam and Teal'c will never find me!
As death and darkness began to close in on him, suffocating him, a memory burst from beneath the surface of his mind;
" Danny...DANNY! It's okay, it's me, Daddy! You have to trust me!" He'd only been a couple of years old, and was smaller than the other boys. His father, Melbourne Jackson, had thought by teaching him to swim, he would develop his thin, frail legs. The young child had panicked as he was lowered into the hot, steaming river in Egypt, and had sunk like a stone to the bottom.
A large hand, so gentle, grabbed him by the front of his tee-shirt, dragging him to the surface, and tears streaming from his large, liquid blue eyes, he heaved in air.
" Danny, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But it's okay- don't be scared. Look, I'll teach you how to swim..."
His father had taught him not to fear the water, not to panic in it. As Daniel's chest hurt, and agony exploded within his oxygen starved body, one last thought flitted through his mind;
Dad was wrong...we're not aquatic creatures...when you have no choice, water should be feared...
Then death crashed over him, and Daniel slumped, his struggles ceasing, and allowed the darkness to carry him away, to a world without worries, pain and light.
You let them die!Yetta shrieked from the depths of her soul at Celi.They are our allies and you let them die!
I am sorry Yetta...I did all I could to save them...I could not prevent their deaths...Celi whispered inwardly, tears freely cascading from her emerald eyes, down her pale face. She looked out to the Lake, and squinted; if she strained hard enough, she could make out the one named Daniel suddenly slump unconscious. He had lost the battle and the will to fight against it; in a few more minutes he would be dead. And she could do nothing to save him...
What about the sarcophagus?Yetta pleaded silently, anger at Enlil fuelling her sorrow for the Tauri men,Enlil uses it once a week. We could revive it when he is not using it or when he is in the city, looking for slaves...
Yetta, you know as well as I that the sarcophagus takes away the cal'esh. The soul.Celi sighed with regret, and glanced out to the water, now still as glass, thinking of the men, dying or dead beneath its surface.However, it is far better for them to be alive and addicted, than dead. They are needed in the fight against the Goa'uld.
The crowd dissipated, and one small boy, quietly, beneath his breath muttered, " I thought they were God-killers. They could have freed us from Enlil." Celi shot him a surprised glance, and bowed her head.
See, Yetta? The fight is not lost yet? The Tauri men have planted seeds of doubt within the people's hearts.
The Jaffa marched past her, herding the villagers away from the Lake, triumphant smiles lighting their dark, bitter faces- all but one. Celi had heard of this Jaffa, Tonat. He had fled from Apophis' services when he had been sent to their planet, and had joined forces with Enlil, as his First Prime. Out of all the Jaffa, he should have borne the most triumphant smile, the most smug statement...instead, he looked sorrowful, and a dark glare dulled his eyes.
Perhaps he also opposes the Goa'uld and their ways Celi,Yetta offered hopefully.
Perhaps,Celi replied.But then, perhaps not. Yetta, those Tauri men are dead- the Jaffa will return tonight to retrieve their bodies as a warning. Perhaps then I can revive them, and set them free.
Earth, Stargate Command
In the control room, Hammond frowned as the Stargate began to grate, twisting round, and clicking as the various Chevrons began to lock.
" It's about time," he muttered beneath his breath, " I was about to send a team in to retrieve SG-2 and Doctor Jackson." The technician sitting at the computer glanced up at the General in concern, and then suddenly frowned.
" Sir, it isn't SG-2...it's...it's Chulak's address!" The Stargate clicked to a halt, and a blue wave exploded from the stone ring. Hammond frowned, his face creasing into deep, angry wrinkles.
" Is there an iris access code?" he asked, his voice low and deadly, a vein beginning to throb angrily in his temple. In the Embarkment room, the iris hissed shut, clicking menacingly.
The technician paused, then let out a surprised cry. " Sir, it's the code we left with Master Bra'tac!"
Surprise and relief flitted across Hammond's face as he barked, " Open the iris!"
Automatically, the technician's fingers flew across the keyboard, tapping frantically in the code to open the iris. He glanced apprehensively down at the Stargate, and sighed in relief as the iris hissed open, revealing a blue, rippled horizontal wall. There was a ripple, as a man, clad in Jaffa uniform stumbled from the wormhole, and used his staff weapon to steady himself on the ramp. Down below, the soldiers propped their guns on their shoulders automatically.
The man glanced up uncertainly at the Control room, and Hammond smiled. It was Bra'tac.
" Lower your guns men," he commanded, his voice booming into the room below.
Disappointed, the marines did as they were told, lowering their weapons to the concrete floor.
" Hammond of Texas?" Bra'tac asked, moving one hand over his head at the same time, " We must talk. Daniel Jackson and the Tauri accompanying him are in grave danger."
" So...let me get this right," Jack all but exploded as he slammed the palms of his hands against the metal table in the conference room. " Daniel and SG-2 have been captured by a Goa'uld, and are possibly dead, because your Jaffa warrior captured them?" He turned to Hammond, his eyes dark and angry. At that moment, the General wouldn't have been surprised if they started glowing and Jack started snarling at them all in a dual-tone voice. " General, permission to scream the place down like a girl?"
" Permission denied Colonel! This is a serious matter! I know you're concerned for Doctor Jackson, but please control your temper!"
Shortly after Bra'tac had arrived, the General had called the remaining half of SG-1 to the Conference room, and had sent a squadron of soldiers to retrieve Teal'c from the Land of Light. Once again, it seemed that their holiday had been cancelled to rescue Daniel.
" Thank you General Hammond," Bra'tac gravely said, as he shot Jack a dark look. " I respect your ways O'Neill, but you do not understand the gravity of this matter..."
" Hell, no! It's only Daniel, right? I mean, he's only been captured and possibly killed, because of you right? What's there not to understand?" Jack snapped, clenching his fists. Ashamed, Sam glanced down at the table, and bit her lip. This wasn't her fight; it was his.
"Colonel O'Neill!" Hammond roared, " If you don't control your temper, right now, I'll have those airmen by the door take you to the Infirmary and have Doctor Fraisier sedate you!"
Jack glanced down at his hands, and the anger, just as suddenly as it had arisen, washed away.
" Sorry sir, Master Bra'tac," he muttered, scrubbing his hands through his silvery brown hair. " I'm just worried."
" I know you are," General Hammond's voice and face softened. " We all are. A lot has happened to Doctor Jackson lately...but right now we need to calm down and find a solution to this problem." He turned to Sam, who was staring intently at her hands. Her eyes glistened in the dim lighting.
" Major Carter, is there a way we can contact the Tok'ra and ask for their help? I know they owe us a favour from where we provided them with hosts when that disease broke out..." Sam's face blanched.
" No sir," she replied in a small voice, " there isn't. They moved to a new planet a month ago. Dad said he'd contact us if there were any need."
" And we all know the Tollan won't do squat to help us," Jack growled bitterly, "and we have no way of contacting the Nox, as the Tollan took the last of our devices."
" Right," the General sighed. " So it's just our own forces. Teal'c should be here within another two hours, so for the moment, gentlemen and Major Carter, I suggest you equip yourselves with your strongest weaponry, and that you rally as many teams as possible."
" Thank you Tonat," Celi whispered that evening, to the large Jaffa. Bitterly, he frowned at her, and bowed his head. She had approached him after the dead bodies were dredged up from the lake, to take them back to the Palace. Now, as she moved to the front of the cart they were piled in, she shot him another covert glance, and was puzzled to see a deep frown there, creasing the tattoo in two.
" Tonat, does something bother you?" she asked, in the dual tone of the Goa'uld. Tonat stared sorrowfully at the bodies, then back at Celi. Desperately, she tried again. " Tonat, it is alright if you doubt Enlil's motives. You have, after all, only just left the service of Apophis for him."
The crease doubled, and Tonat shifted his piercing gaze from the bodies, to Celi. Instinctively, Celi tensed, her hand snaking to her pocket to where her zat gun was.
Have I said too much? What if I was wrong?
Celi, in all the years we have been blended, you have never been wrong,Yetta murmured confidently from the depths of her soul. Her voice was like light dancing over a silver stream- beautiful and unlike anything in the known Universe.
" You are not like the other Goa'uld," Tonat murmured in a deep timbre voice, " If you were, you would have ordered my execution immediately." The large Jaffa paused, and lowered his staff weapon to the floor, allowing a gentle smile to light his face. " If what Master Bra'tac told me and Jaffa legend is true, then I believe, you are one of the Tok'ra. Those who oppose the vile Goa'uld."
You were right as always Celi,Yetta cried as Tonat bowed his head graciously.
" Indeed I am one of the Tok'ra," Celi smiled gratefully back at him, " and I believe you are what the Goa'uld would call a 'sholva'. Do not worry Tonat. I do not think as the Goa'uld do." She paused, and then motioning to the cart, " Could you help me take this back to the temple? I was hoping to revive them and send them through the Stargate back to their home-world."
" It would be a pleasure." Tonat responded, swiftly stalking to a position in the front, and grabbing one of the handles. Celi swiftly copied him, and averted her gaze from the grey-blue faces of the dead Tauri, or the glazed eyes- open, but not seeing anything at all. It was near impossible though- the one named Daniel was near the front, his face ashen and clean of blood, his lips blue. Blood still seeped from his shoulder, though there was little of it- if he had not drowned, he would have bled to death in the Lake. Bruises mottled his fair skin, and his eyes- they had fallen open when he had been dragged to the surface- a brilliant liquid blue, were dull, vacantly looking up at the sky, never seeing anything. Water sloshed in his lungs, the only noise from the dead men as the Tok'ra and the sholva slowly made their way to the temple.
Moonlight streamed through dark clouds, as the cart rolled to a halt at the top of the summit.
" Priestess Celi," a Jaffa guard on duty said, startled, " Our Lord has returned to the city in search of a suitable slave for you. He shall not return until tomorrow evening."
Perfect!
" Thank you Jaffa," Celi murmured gratefully, as she hefted the first body from the cart. The Jaffa guard narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
" Why have you bought the Tauri men back here, Priestess Celi?"
" Tonat," Celi called softly, worry tingeing her voice. Tonat emerged from the shadows cast by the coliseum, his zatnikitel already drawn in preparation. The Jaffa's eyes flitted from Celi to Tonat, and narrowed.
" Renauc I am sorry," Tonat apologetically rumbled. He squeezed the handle for the zatnikitel, and averted his gaze as three jets of bright blue energy leapt from it, dancing over Renauc's body. The Jaffa disappeared into a cloud of ashes, dead. Slowly, Tonat watched as the ashes, sparkling in the moonlight, settled into the ground, and then dissipated.
" He was a good warrior," he rumbled softly, " but he was too dedicated to the ways of the Goa'uld."
They remained silent after that, both carrying a body each, as they moved the dead soldiers to the sarcophagus. There were five of them in total.
" They will not be able to rest long enough to heal completely," Celi decided, " but it will have to do." With amazing strength, the Tok'ra lifted the first body- the leader, Feretti, and placed it into the sarcophagus.
" Now, we wait," she softly murmured.
Someone was tapping his cheek and mumbling his name repeatedly, their voice desperate and worried. Softly, Daniel groaned, the noise sounding more like a harsh croak than anything else.
I thought death would be a little more pleasant than this,he inwardly groused.
" Daniel, wake up. Come on man, you have to wake up. The control-freak, Enlil, will be back any second..."
I'm coming, I'm coming...
Bleakly, Daniel cracked open a swollen eye, and coughed weakly, surprised when no short burst of pain immediately followed it. Feretti knelt by him, his face pale, and twisted with worry, but as Daniel began to struggle to sit up, he sat back, relieved.
" I should be dead, right?" he asked the soldier in confusion, blearily rubbing his head- despite the distinct lack of tremendous pain, his shoulder still ached dully, and his face still felt too hot.
" Don't be too ungrateful. We were healed in a sarcophagus by the Priestess. Now come on, and get up- Enlil returns in another hour, and we have to get to the Stargate if we want to live."
Daniel jerked, and struggled to his feet swaying. Next to Feretti, were Craig, Jennings and Sullet...and two other people...one the large Jaffa who had shot him, the other, the Priestess Celi. She was staring at his shoulder, worry marring her face. The Jaffa was staring at the ground in shame.
" What's going on?" he asked quietly, confusion tingeing his tired, croaky voice.
" You're not healed properly," Celi murmured, " but it is better than the alternate."
Daniel shot her a sudden look of understanding. " You're Tok'ra, aren't you?"
He swayed suddenly, and the Priestess darted forwards, and wrapped an arm around his waist, helping the archaeologist to remain upright.
" Yes, I am," she admitted, helping him to weakly walk away from the sarcophagus, and into the courtyard, filled with bright golden sunlight. " My host, Yetta will explain a few things on the way, but we must hurry."
The day wore slowly, and steadily on, with only the silver elm trees providing meagre shade from the hot, merciless ball of fire in the sky, SG-2, Daniel, and the Tok'ra and Jaffa slowly moved forward. The Jaffa, Tonat, half-supported Feretti, who like Daniel, despite being bought back to life by the sarcophagus, was weak and still bore the bruises and gashes from their earlier beatings.
" Decades ago, when I was just a young girl," Yetta explained, grunting as Daniel's leg, shaky, battered and bruised, gave way for the fifth time, forcing her to haul him to his feet, and tighten her grip on him, " I was foolish enough to wonder far away from home, to where the Gods would bathe. I was fascinated by them...anyway, one woman, was fleeing from some Jaffa, when she stumbled. I caught her. I did not know it at the time, but she was a Goa'uld, and dying. I helped her back to my home, where she died in the evening. Unfortunately, the Goa'uld in her body, to cheat death, took me as a host. Her name was Nanlil, and she was searching for her mate, Enlil."
Daniel, dizzy, flushed and weak, glanced up at her, closing his eyes briefly as the world looped viciously around him.
" Nanlil?" he asked incredously, " That's part of ancient Babylonian mythology. Nanlil was a goddess who had a child with Enlil. However, it was not approved, and Enlil left, taking on different forms to trick her. Each time though, she recognised him, and would have a child. The text's pretty vague, but it tells of how after a time, they were praised for giving birth to children."
Yetta's eyes darkened, and her statement grew grim.
" Yes. His new forms were different hosts. But the reason the Goa'uld disapproved of the children, was that they became harcesis. All were killed. After some time though, Nanlil became a Goa'uld queen- she gave birth to millions of Goa'uld larvae."
" Hence the approval," Daniel darkly replied. Another wave of pain washed over him, and he groaned, staggering, bringing both of them crashing to the ground. Yetta dipped her head, and when she bought it back up, her eyes glowed furiously.
" He is feverish," Celi snapped worriedly. " We must get him back to the Cha'appai quickly if he is to survive." Sullet, Jennings and Craig looked helplessly towards Daniel, and then back at Feretti, who now struggled against Tonat's grip, trying to fight his way over to Daniel.
" Tonat, let him go. Take Daniel for me. I shall carry the leader." She released her grip on Daniel, pausing to wipe the sweat from his eyes, and brush a long, light blonde strand of hair from his face. Tonat waited as she stood, and took Feretti from him, before bending towards Daniel, and sweeping him into his arms. Daniel's head lolled backwards, as he softly groaned in pain. Feretti glanced over to him.
" Son of a bitch!" he swore viciously- Daniel's tee-shirt, torn and ragged, had given way to show raw, inflamed skin, angry red streaks darting towards his heart. The wound itself, although partly healed, was filled with pus, and blackened at the edges. It was a nauseating site, and Sullet, behind him, groaned, and began to retch.
Daniel moaned at his sharp tone, and mumbled something beneath his breath. Then suddenly, he sighed, and weakly sagged in Tonat's arms. The Jaffa looked guiltily down at him.
" I should never have shot him," he intoned gravely. Jennings glared at him.
" You know what?" Feretti declared, his voice weak, but embittered by the past few days, " You're right! You shouldn't have! We have our own Jaffa warrior back on earth- you might know him- Teal'c. He would never take part in some cock-eyed plan to save us or trap us or whatever. He would rather die than let any of the Tauri. Especially that one you're holding."
" Sir," Jennings said lowly, as a warning.
" We do not have time for petty arguing!" Celi snapped for him, and hoisted Feretti off the ground. " And so you know, Tonat has risked his life to bring you to the temple and to the sarcophagus. Better men would not do that."
" He did it after we had died!"
Tonat, who had remained sombrely silent throughout Feretti's accusations, halted, and twisted around to glare at him darkly. Daniel's body swung limply with the motion, and the soldier was treated with a view of the younger man's ashen face, and his flushed cheeks, and finally, the red, raw, ravaged shoulder.
" Whilst you argue, your friend is slowly dying," he growled, " and unless you wish all the help we have provided to go to waste, we must hurry. The Cha'appai is close to our proximity."
The three assembled SG teams stood stoically in front of the Stargate, at the foot of the metal ramp, twenty eight floors beneath a Mountain, and hoisted their packs onto their backs. In the front, wearing sour, worried expressions, were Sam, Jack, Teal'c ( who had arrived cursing in his native language at the news), and Bra'tac. General Hammond watched them apprehensively from the Control room, as the Stargate began to slowly dial up, its inner ring grinding against the outer ring as the Chevrons slowly clicked into place. From their taut expressions, he could see they were trying to hurry the Gate up by thought alone, and the moment the wormhole stabilised, would rush forward, without a second thought.
But then Doctor Jackson is valuable to them,his gentle blue eyes rested on the top of Sam's head, as she tightened her grip on her gun, her lips pulled in tightly.In more ways than one.
Since Daniel's slow recovery in the Infirmary from the disease, the General had wondered whether Major Carter harboured some secret feelings of love for the young archaeologist. It made sense, in some way. They were close friends, and had helped one another through various difficult times in their lives. When Daniel had been turned into a child, and had taken Sam as his foster mother, it had probably just opened this view to the blonde Major; made her realise the archaeologist's true value to her.
I'll have to talk to those two when they return- whether it's breaking regulations or not, I can't let them go out into a situation where one might be hurt. They've been hurt too much in the past years to survive that kind of relationship.
As the blue wormhole exploded from the empty space between the ring, greedily reaching forward, the General leant down towards the microphone, and softly called;
" SG-1, SG-7, SG-9 and Master Bra'tac, you have a go. Godspeed."
After they had heard of his unfortunate capture, Major Wilson and Captain Johnson had both immediately asked if they and their teams could go in to rescue the young archaeologist. Evidently, the time the three had spent in their white, futuristic cell, dying, had seeded some deep bonds. They stood behind SG-1, tense expressions on their face, as they marched up the metal ramp, straight into the blue horizon, and the unknown, without even a backward's glance.
Softly, in the control room, where only the technicians on duty and the computers could hear him, the General repeated, " Godspeed."
Major Wilson and his team landed squarely on their feet as the wormhole spat them out viciously, their guns held tightly in their hands, until their knuckles grew white with tension. Behind him, Captain Johnson stumbled forward, rubbing the back of his head, glaring at the Stargate.
" Son of a bitch," he muttered.
" SG-7 and SG-9, this is a rescue mission." Jack's sharp, harsh bark echoed around the surrounding trees, and even Sam, who stood by the newly found DHD, halted, and stared at her Commanding Officer respectfully. " We are to do what we can to rescue SG-2 and Daniel Jackson. And I don't care how friendly they are, unless they can help us, I give you permission to shoot any natives or Jaffa orwhateverwho are preventing us from rescuing them."
He inhaled sharply, drawing out his inner strength- the essence that distinguished him as adamn fineofficer, rather than just a good officer, or an average soldier.
" SG-7, you take the path to the left, 9, wait by the Gate, and my team, we'll take the path on the right. We'll be using our radios, so any sightings, and I want to know, ASAP. Is that clear?" Wilson and Johnson nodded their agreements, and Sam moved away from the DHD, and handed a small notebook to Johnson. On a single sheet at the front, was a symbol she had drawn.
" That's the point of origin for this planet," she softly explained. " We may need to leave quickly, and we don't need any fumbling around."
She turned to join Jack, and just as softly, Johnson called after her, " Major. Good luck in finding him."
A brief, sad smile flitted across her face, as she gave a nod of thanks.
Then she, and the rest of SG-1 and 7, disappeared into both sides of the woods, leaving Johnson and his team to tensely sit by the DHD, sadly contemplating when life had turned against them and had turned nasty; when it had begu to screw with their lives.
" He's getting worse, Celi," Tonat softly called, in the dim light. The sun had begun to set, and deep burnished rays of light fell through the gaps in the trees, dancing over strands of Daniel's dark blonde hair, so that it shone as the colour of amber. His skin, despite the soft lighting, was ashen, more the colour of grey than any other colour, and his breathing had harshened. The streaks from the staff weapon blast to his shoulder were elongating, creeping slowly, but steadily to his heart. Heat, like that from a blast furnace, radiated from his flushed cheeks- the only part of his face with any colour left in it.
" I know Tonat," Celi sadly replied, as she helped Feretti, panting in exhaustion, up the steep slanted hill. The soldier dully turned his gaze to Daniel, and gritted his teeth together, forcing his aching limbs a few more steps; anything, if it bought them closer to the Stargate.
The ground suddenly rumbled beneath their feet, catching them all by surprise. Tonat, his arms full with Daniel's slackened form, tumbled backwards, the archaeologist slipping from his grip, and landing in a crumpled heap a yard away from him. Feretti lost his footing, and dragged Celi to the ground, as he reached out, weakly curling his fingers around a nearby tree branch. Sullet, Jennings and Craig, below them, peered up anxiously, the latter two dashing forward to lift the unconscious Daniel from the ground. Tonat, his face guilty and solemn, took his limp form from them graciously, bowing his head gratefully.
" Let me guess," Feretti gasped, " that was the Stargate."
" Indeed, it was," Tonat intoned, glancing worriedly at the incline. " Are more Tauri coming to help you?"
Hope sparked in Feretti's eyes at this suggestion, and with a grim smile, he replied, " Could be. They can help us back through the Stargate- you two too, if you wish."
The corners of the First Prime's large mouth lifted upwards into a gentle smile, and he nodded, the light glinting off the top of his bald head. " I would appreciate that," he added, as he took the first step back up the incline.
The Tauri are surely a great race; I hurt one of their own, yet they're willing to take me back to their own world...
" Sir, there's an incline over here," Sam called softly, as she squinted against the red-gold light. If she strained her ears, she could make out soft, hushed voices, and puzzled, her eyebrows knitting together, she tightened her grip on her rifle.
Jack immediately scrambled over to her, followed by Bra'tac and Teal'c.
"Good work Major," he praised her, tightening his grip on his own gun, " Now tell me...does anyone else hear those voices?"
" I do," Sam whispered back. Teal'c arched an eyebrow, gravely rumbling:
" As do I, O'Neill."
Bra'tac nodded, his only response being to tighten his grip on his staff weapon, lowering it, bracing it to fire.
" Good," Jack light-heartedly replied. " Just thought I'd check before I scared the crap out of you- no offence Carter- and did this..." he crawled forward on his belly, and hollered at the top of his lungs, "You! Down there! Show yourself! Are you friend or foe?"
" You! Down there! Show yourself! Are you friend or foe?"
The voice, angry and bitter came ten minutes later, as Tonat struggled up the hill with his unconscious burden. Desperately, he looked for a place to put the young man safely down, but was interrupted by Feretti's sudden joyous croak of;
" That's Colonel O'Neill. One of the Tauri," he added in explanation to Celi. Jennings, Sullet and Craig grinned happily, and struggled uphill, helping Tonat pull Daniel up the incline.
" Colonel! Jack!" Feretti croaked back, joy, triumph and something else, creeping into his voice, energy seeping back into his body. SG-1 and probably another team or two had come to rescue them; they would be allowed home, to safety, and Infirmary bed and a very pissed off Janet Fraisier.
A very grubby Jack O'Neill peered over the edge if the incline, and grinned widely at the site of Feretti.
" Feretti!" he cried hoarsely, " Thank God!" His eyes narrowed though, as they fell upon Tonat and the limp form he was carrying, and then Celi, still half-supporting Feretti.
" Feretti?" he added, his voice brooking no argument.
Frantically, Feretti scrambled up over the edge, with the help of Celi, gasping in pain as a muscle twinged.
" Friendlies." He managed to gasp out. " Jack, this is Celi- she's Tok'ra. And Tonat's a good Jaffa, like Teal'c."
Both Sam and Bra'tac looked up sharply; the blonde Major turning her gaze to Celi, the elderly Jaffa turning his to Tonat who was struggling over the incline, still carrying the delirious, unconscious Daniel Jackson.
" I can vouch for Celi, sir," Sam said in a low voice, as she stared at the Tok'ra. " The memories Jolinar left behind...she was a good friend of Selmac..." Her bright blue eyes glazed in horror as they shifted from the Tok'ra priestess, to Daniel's limp body.
Oh God...is he even alive?
" And I can vouch for Tonat O'Neill," Bra'tac bravely added, lying his staff weapon on the sodden earth, to pat the Jaffa on the back. " He is the one who gave me the information on Daniel Jackson."
The rest of SG-2, grubby, their faces pale beneath the pink burn left by the sun, appeared at the top of the incline as he said this, supporting one another. Having not had the benefit of hearing the past conservation, Jennings shot Jack's gun a worried look, and jutted in frantically, " They're friendlies Colonel! They revived us when we drowned, and have helped us..."
He trailed off as Sam and Jack simultaneusly blanched, their eyes shifting, coming to a rest on Daniel's pale face.
" He died?" Sam whispered, " Oh God. Hedied."
She cares a great deal for this particular Tauri Celi,Yetta inputted helpfully from the corners of her mind, as the two stared at Sam.I can see it in her eyes.
As can I old friend,Celi whispered back,as can I.
" He'll die once more if we do not return to your world," she told Sam harshly, her eyes glowing. She had not intended to sound so harsh, so bitter, but she had seen enough death, enough failed relationships and broken hearts...she remembered Martouf and Lantesh's shared horror when Jolinar had gone missing...the defeat he had shown when she hadn't returned...but she also remembered the harsh tones they had had to take on with him, to prevent him from falling apart, inside out. This same tone was needed here to prevent the same thing from happening to the blonde woman.
Sam made an odd noise in the back of her throat, which she immediately squelched, and nodded. Jack glanced briefly over to her, his face pale, and as if resolving some unseen argument in his mind, nodded grimly, and then bought his hand to his mouth, clutching a black, small box.
" Sierra Gulf Seven...Sierra Gulf Seven? This is Colonel O'Neill from Sierra Gulf One...we have found them. I repeat, we have found them- make your way back to the Stargate."
The journey back to the Stargate was quick, and passed in a chaoctic blur, as Daniel grew steadily worse. He mumbled incessantly beneath his breath, thrashing in Tonat's arms. Occasionally, the assembled group were able to catch phrases and words such as 'Sam', and ' No...don't touch me...Steven...no...'. It only spurred them further on.
Johnson shot one glance at Daniel- now being held down by Tonat and Teal'c, and rushed over to the DHD, frantically tapping in the symbols. The Stargate slowly whirred to life in rhythm as he finally slapped the last chevron, whilst Wilson tapped in the GDO code. With held breath, the assembled group waited as the wormhole shot forward, settling into a blue wall, then with a snarl of "Go, go, go!", Jack bolted forward, through the blue horizon, waving them on at the same time.
Johnson stumbled through after Tonat and Teal'c, closing his eyes as he was viciously hurled from side to side through the icy cold wormhole, finally emerging neatly on his feet on the other side, on the metal ramp. Tonat was staring in wonder at the room as Daniel was taken from his arms, and piled onto a stretcher. A breathless Sam and Jack asked Janet tensely, " Is he going to be alright?"
Janet merely nodded, her statement grim, as she shot the General one last dirty look, and disappeared with a flurry of nurses, the gurney, and Daniel, through a door leading to the Infirmary.
The General was making his way down to them, his face a conflicting statement of both relief and worry, and he merely nodded as Feretti, Sullet, Jennnings, and Craig were escorted after Daniel into the Infirmary.
" That was a rather quick mission people," he finally commented to the remaining group. Jack and Sam were sending anxious glances towards the Infirmary, and Teal'c was half-supporting an exhausted Tonat.
" Yes sir, it was," Johnson slowly answered for all of them.
But I have a feeling the real mission hasn't begun,he added silently, staring at the door that Janet had only just left through.
" He'll be okay, won't he Janet?"
In his safe, drugged ball, Daniel gave what he assumed was an inward frown. He had no idea of where he was, or how he had got there...his last memory, in fact, was suddenly collapsing in the middle of the mysterious planet, as he, and the rest of SG-2 struggled to make their way back.
" Yes. It's only a fever caused by the wound to his shoulder. I've got him on some sedatives, so, he should be awake within a couple of hours."
Daniel, anxious to find out what was wrong, why Sam sounded so unhappy, began to struggle against the warm, comforting wave lapping against his conscious, his soul, holding him a prisoner in his own body.
" Why is he being strapped down though?"
Sam's voice returned, sounding both relieved and mildly agitated. Inwardly, Daniel didn't blame her; he'd run from his own personal demons, and as a result, had managed to nearly kill himself.
" Because when he came through the Gate, he was delirious. I don't want him ruining all that good work I've just done."
He was close now; consciousness was only a centimetre away from him, bubbling both frustratingly close and far away, darting out of reach.
" Look, I don't mean to sound rude Sam, but I have to go see to Feretti and his team. If I stay here too much, they're going to think Daniel's on the verge of death, and given his determination to keep him alive, it would be a little cruel to let them think that, don't you think? Look, why don't you stay with Daniel? I think the Colonel's talking with Teal'c, Bra'tac, Celi, and the General in the debriefing room anyway...Daniel could do with some company when he wakes up..."
There was a pause, a mumbled reply, then a sound that Daniel could only assume to be Janet's heels as they clicked against the concrete floor, carrying the petite Doctor over to Feretti and the rest of SG-2. Sam sighed, and sunk onto the bed, her weight as the mattress sank, comforting- a reminder to the young archaeologist that he was still alive; that indeed, once again, he had escaped the Grim Reaper's clutches.
Boy, that guy must really hate me. I make him work over-time when I'm on the brink of death, and return to the Land of the Living, at the very last second,Daniel thought dryly.
Sam sighed sadly, as if in response to his thought, and gently, her voice whispered in his ear," Dammit Daniel...you have to stop doing this. This time it was too close- if you had died...well, hell, you did die...we would never have been able to save you. I wouldn't be able to save you Daniel."Her lips brushed over his cheek, moving to his own lips, lingering there.
Inwardly, Daniel blushed.
Perhaps...
"I love you too much to let you die Daniel," Sam began again, and this time, Daniel could feel the added pressure of her hand squeezing his. "So, you've got to stop this, okay? Next time, you have to come and talk to me or the Colonel. Don't go and throw yourself into some half-baked mission. Strattenburg isn't worth that."
Okay Sam,Daniel silently agreed.I'll do my best...
Sleepy, the drugs finally beginning to fight back, he allowed the comforting warm wave to return, carrying his soul back into unconsciousness, to rest and dreams. This time, he didn't fight it- this time, he had Sam, guarding him and protecting him from death.
But then, she always did,was his last thought, before he drifted into a drug-induced deep sleep.
Epilogue:
So, here we are again. Me in the Infirmary, Sam, resting besides me, as breath-taking as usual. I haven't told her I felt her kiss me, or how she almost declared that she liked me too much...to be honest, I'm still a little worried- what if this were her reacting to me almost dying? Her 'love' may not be entirely real. Anyway, I woke up a few days ago- Janet had really overdone it on the drugs this time- to a very pissed off Doctor ( she was annoyed that I went on a mission behind her back, instead of arranging an appointment with Mackenzie), and a very grateful Sam. Yet again, she camped out by my bedside to make sure I didn't relapse.
Tonat and Celi have returned to the Tok'ra- I think they managed to contact them through the Tollan- who are in turn extremely grateful, and even Bra'tac is pretty happy, knowing Tonat is in good hands, so to speak. Finally, Steven Strattenburg. From what Jack's told me, he's safely locked away in prison, where he won't be able to reach me. Apparently, Jack found him in my apartment when looking for me.
So that clears all matters- well sort of. The General wants us to return to duty as soon as possible, rather than taking a holiday. Considering our last run of luck with them, he's made a wise choice. Besides, one of the SG teams has made contact with a planet named Edora, who have some kind of annual 'fire rain'. It sounds interesting; just the thing to stop Jack mother-henning me.
I can't wait.
An extract from Doctor Jackson's personal diary.
In the grotty cell, Steven Strattenbrug looked distastefully up at the Colonel, and his posh blue-dress. In his hands, was a strange globe, that glowed, amber light burning in the centre.
" What is it?" he finally asked wearily. He needed a wash, and a stiff drink, and in his small prison, didn't have the time for smug, smartly dressed balding Colonel's. Especially ones with such nasal, smug voices.
" A touchstone," the Colonel replied. " We stole one a long time ago, and managed to make a copy of it's design. That one isn't quite as strong as the original, but..."
" And the point of giving me one would be?" Steven prompted coldly.
The Colonel sighed.
" We're willing to pay the fee to release you, and send you to another planet, if you use that to ruin their weather patterns." He patiently explained. Steven shot the Touchstone an impressed smile.
" Let me guess...these people on this planet would be allies to the SGC?" he guessed, his eyes cold, interest burning fiercely in the pits of them.
" That would be right. Just ruin the weather patterns, so my team can get in to steal the needed technology, and we'll pay you a million dollars."
Steven whistled impressively, and turned the globe over in his hands.
" I'd say you've got yourself a deal there, son," he added, running one hand over his silver hair. This would be the perfect opportunity for him to avenge his court-martial...
The fifty-four year old glanced back at the Colonel, and handed back the Touchstone. " I'll do it," he firmly said, then paused, the corners of his lips lifting into a cold smile. " Say, what do I call you?"
The Colonel pocketed the Touchstone, and smiled, his face, nasty and smug, creasing with it. It was as if he never smiled often; or nevertrulysmiled.
" Maybourne," he finally answered, " You can call me Colonel Maybourne."
The End. ( I promise, only one more sequel to this one,J)
So, what did you think? Please, give me feedback...
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