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Bound and Broken
By
Jackiwi
Email Author: jackiwi2002@yahoo.com
Warnings: Character death, suicide, child death,
language (I think!) adult situations...
Category: Romance
Pairing: Jack and Sam
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimers: Original
story is mine; everything else is MGM, double secret and GEKKO’s property.
Archive: stargatesg1971.com
and fanfiction.net – anyone else please ask!
Authors notes: Hope you like….
_______________________________________________________________________
Carter and I stepped though the stargate
thinking we were headed for a nice quiet planet inhabited by trees, trees and
more trees. Oh, and a natural and rather large supply of triennium. A place
untouched by man or beast, an oasis in a no mans land of warring system lords
and monsters.
Our purpose for going there was to join
Daniel and Teal’c, who went ahead of us. SG1 has been on a few tough missions
lately, and when Carter and I returned from a week’s downtime, which
unfortunately had been spent for the most part, separately, (I did, however,
manage to tare her away from her computer long enough to get her to come for a
meal with the others and I), we were pleased to hear we would be going off
world on a routine mission; to over see the mining of the triennium and to
explore for any signs of life in the surrounding area. Your basic, everyday,
yaddayadda excreta, you get the point!
Yep, that’s what’s supposed to have happened,
but what do they say? “Best laid plans…”
We stepped though the gate, and on the other
side; a war zone. This is not the planet, it can't be. Thoughts are buzzing
around my head in seconds, questions mostly, ‘where am I? What the hell was
that?’ The bright yellow blast zoomed past me at about 100 miles an hour and collided
with the stargate, which let out a defining cry of pain in the form of a loud
explosion. That woke me up, I can tell ya! I grabbed Carters’ arm and jumped,
just as the flames licked the bottom of my boots.
The scene was something surreal. Women and
children running and screaming, men shouting, guns firing, flames crackling as
they ate at the wooden buildings. Ships flying only meters from the ground emit
a loud humming and shooting noise as they slice though the thick smoke filled
air. Over all the noise it was a miracle I heard Carter yelp as my full weight
landed on her, forcing the air to leave her lungs. Looking down at her I see
her eyes close as she fights to regain her breath. I roll off to make the task
easier and give her arm a quick squeeze.
“Sorry! You ok?” I ask quickly.
“It’s ok sir, you just winded me is all. I’ll
be fine in a few seconds.” She breathed heavily.
“Good. Er… can you make that now?” I ask,
raising my body to cover her face as another explosion impacts the earth yards from
us, sending debris of dust and tufts of grass flying in all directions. “We
should move.” I say, surveying the area with darting eyes, struggling to see
through the smoke and confusion, not to mention the fact that night was already
setting in.
“Where to?” she asks in a more steady
sounding voice this time.
My eyes find it. Hills, in the distance,
about 5 miles away, not far but I pray far enough that there is no goa’uld out
there.
“Over there,” I point and she rolls on to her
belly to see our destination. “If we can get to those trees, hopefully we can
slip by unnoticed. No one seems too fussed by our arrival as it is, there too
busy killing and being killed. Just wait for that Jaffa to leave and we’ll make
a run for it.” She nods, but I can see the same doubt in her eyes that I feel
in my mind. It’s not going to be that easy, it never is. Then there’s the
guilt, we should be doing something to help these people, some of whom are now
being loaded on to a ship by rings. Children, pregnant women in chains, men
covered in cuts and burns, being torn from there wives and forced into another
part of the ship, the whole thing looks so heartbreaking. But what can we do?
There are two of us, totally out in the open and armed only with standard issue
zats, grenades and P90’s. There’s no way we could change the way this battle is
going, the end result seems already decided.
After a few more seconds a quiet, “sir?”
rouses me and I looked over to ware the Jaffa had been standing. He’s moved on.
With one last check, I get up, helping carter to her feet, and staying as low
as possible whilst keeping an eye out for attackers and a finger hovering over
the trigger of my faithful weapon at all times, we run, faster and faster until
it is a full out sprint. But then comes the part you just instinctively know to
expect. One Jaffa yelled, and blasts followed, mirrored by my own bullet laced
music and zat shots from Carter. We don’t stop, not for anything, and we
finally make it into the trees, losing the heavily armoured guards there. They
may be able to out gun us, but they can't out run us.
Finally, the noise dies out. The gunfire
stops and the ships fly away, leaving behind long trails of vapour and a bright
burst of light as they leave the planets atmosphere. We hike on and eventually
make it to the hills. I was right, or someone up there is watching out for,
whatever, this place is deserted. In fact, the whole planet now seems deserted.
Night is winning as the sun gives way to its long black fingers, and there is
nothing we can do but set up camp and wait for the morning.
One tent is pitched in a place well hidden
from the view of flying objects, and hopefully ground troops as well. Just as
we finish setting up, the sky splits open and an angry rain plummets down to
bite at our skin. We clamber into the
tent and turn on a flashlight. I watch as Carter gets the same old green
blanket she has had for years, out from her pack and begins to spread it out on
the floor of the tent. Neither of us liked just having a drop sheet as
protection from the hard and sometimes rocky ground below us.
“So, were do you think we are?” I ask
casually, handing her a ration pack. She takes it and opens it with shaking
hands.
“I really have no idea, we could be anywhere.
I guess the computer must have misdialled.” I nod, unable, for some reason, to
take my eyes off her hands. Her skin has gone a pale white, with a purple
tinge, and her fingers still shake. The remains of wounds, both from action and
from burns and scrapes on this machine or that doohicky still mar her skin. Her
nails are short and nicked, and one wears a nasty looking bruise.
“Sir?” I look up to see her head tilted to
the side, her eyes trying to meet mine. I allow her the glance before turning
to my own ration. Chicken and something…. God only knows what. Hell, it might
not even been chicken; a lot of the stuff they give us tastes the same these
days.
“The gate got hit; do think that’s broken it?
I mean, bad enough that it won’t get us home in one peace?” I ask between
bites.
“It’s impossible to tell. I need to have a
good look at it, maybe try dialling up to see if we can radio the SGC.” She
sighed and looked around her. “We have enough rations here to survive for a
least a couple of days. I don’t think we should risk going back until we’re
sure that’s its safe.”
“I agree. We’ll stay here until morning and
then we’ll go on a scout. If it looks clear we’ll check out the gate.”
“And if it isn’t clear, Sir?” She asks,
taking a sip from her hip flask.
“If it isn’t, well, I guess we’ll cross that
bridge if we come to it.” I say with a false note of confidence in my voice.
“Don’t you mean when?” I just roll my eyes
and she backs down, “if is good.”
We exchange smiles and the subject moves on
to dinner.
“Are you liking this?” I dig though my cold
mush and look at it with disgust.
“Not really, Sir.” she does the same.
“Why don’t we forget dinner and call it a
night. I don’t know about you but I’m kinda tired after that run.” She looks up
with that look, the ‘well, you are getting on a bit’ look! “Not that I couldn’t
have gone on longer, its just five miles is a long way at a full out run and up
hill.” Good save Jack, if I do say so myself.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” She nods and
zips up the airtight food pack, putting it with her kit. She takes off her
jacket and puts it at the head on the tent and then goes to remove her boots,
but changes her mind, looking up at me with the question as to whether she
should keep them on or take them off.
“We could have to run for it in the night, so
I think it’s best if we keep ‘em on. Especially as we don’t know the local
wildlife!” she smiles and lies back, using her jacket it as a pillow. I dispose
of my food, and pull the blanket out of my pack, which unusually I had actually
brought with me this time. Normally I would rely on the others, but seeing as
this time the others were already there, they had probably snapped up all the
gear. I shake out the blanket a little, ‘this could use a wash’ I think to
myself as a few leaves and the odd piece of dried mud cling to it here and
there. We take half each and spread it out.
For a few moments its silent but for the
sound of the still heavy rainfall on the tent making a loud, but not quite as
thunderous noise as earlier. Our bodies lay side by side, as they have done on
many occasions, but this time its different. For starters, we are alone.
Thoughts enter my head of regulations and what people would say, and I
dismissed them just as quickly as they come. Now isn’t the time. The two of us
are here and alone with no back up. If needs be, we will look after each other,
by any means necessary. That’s what you do in a team.
I turn on my side and face her, her eyes are
closed and her skin pale, with a slight blue tinge to her lips. I suddenly
realise that that need may have come sooner rather than later. Reaching out my
hand I place it lightly on her cheek, then forehead. Her skin is ice cold. She
turns to face me as my touch startles her. Her eyes lack the shine they had
only hours ago. I touch her neck and feel for her pulse. It’s slow. A sign that
her body is too cold to generate energy and her heart is slowing down to
conserve it. A bit like when animals hibernate, I guess.
I sigh, “Why didn’t you tell me you were this
cold?” She just keeps looking at me. “Come here.” I reach over and pull her
towards me. She lays her head on my chest the places her arms round my waist. I
hold her closer and wrap the blanket tightly around us both, rubbing her back
to try and get her blood moving to her fingertips and toes. The last thing she
needs is frostbite. I reach down between us and switch off the light, and we
eventually fall asleep.
**
Morning comes and make us all too aware of
its presence with its blindly bright sunlit rays, which spread across the
horizon of scattered trees, open grass lands and hills, and of course the
village, lying silently at the bottom of a hollow, smoke still gently rising
from its tortured buildings. Only a silhouette of the stargate could be seen,
deep in the shadows of the near by forest, the one that we had only just made
it too and then had (luckily) managed to lose the Jaffa in.
The nights heavy rain left the ground soggy
under foot, and not the easiest to walk on when you’re trying to get down hills
with out falling on your arse and looking like the village idiot, walking round
the rest of the day with a nice round muddy stain on your pants! Thankfully, it
doesn’t come to pass (although there were a few near misses!) and we both make
it safely down the hill and into the edge of the forest, hiding ourselves in a
concealed spot, where we can assess whether or not its safe to go on to the
gate.
The village is like a ghost town. Not a
person in sight, only the remnants of their lives that had suddenly been not
only turn outside down by shaken about too.
Fallen baskets of laundry, tools, wooden objects such as pots, plates
and bowls are left scattered, fruit and vegetables gone AWOL, and half fallen
buildings lay in the ashes of there own destruction, litter the area.
“What d’ya think?” I ask Sam, who is now
looking more colourful and not quite so pale.
“I think it’s safe. Although I …”
“…Can't help but get the feeling it’s too
quiet?” I finish as she nods her agreement. I sigh and tap the barrel of my gun
with my fingertips, wondering if it’s worth the risk. It could be a trap. Then
again, it might not be. And the sooner we get the gate working, the sooner we
can get home and complain about those god-awful ration packs.
“Well, I guess there’s only one way to find
out. We’ll take it slow and keep hidden for as long as possible. Keep your eyes
open for any movement, I don’t care how small.” I spout out the orders, most of
it common sense stuff, and we move out, travailing though the forest back to
back to insure no one can sneak up on us.
Minutes later we’re at the gate. A hot,
burning metal kind of smell fills the air around us. The gate took a nasty hit
yesterday, and the wound still bleeds, like liquid molten from a volcano, on the
right hand side about half way down. The chevron located in this general area
is totally screwed, and I don’t need a degree in astrophysics to see that! What I don’t know is whether a certain
blonde genius I know can fix it.
“Well?” I ask.
“Well what, sir?” she replies, eyebrows
raisin in an expectant way.
“Can you fix it?” I tilt my head towards the
gate.
“Are you kidding?” she asks with a laugh.
“There’s no way… I wouldn’t know where to start, the chevrons are incredibly
complex, and even if I did, I don’t have any equipment here.” She looks at me
with that ‘don’t make silly suggestions’ look and I throw back the ‘at least
give it a go. Macgyver something’ look. She rolls her eyes and walks over to
the damaged area.
“What do you want me to do? I can't fix this,
not without more equipment, which we can't get without the gate. I think we’ve
just gotta face it sir; we’re stuck here until somebody finds us. You never
know, maybe the Tok’ra will send a ship.” I shudder inwardly. The Tok’ra, you
gotta love ‘em. Or not! I look around, it’s not Kansas, but I guess its home
for now. At least there’s plenty of food we can gather up, and there’s the
means to make bread, although the mill sitting under a pile of rubble could do
with a bit of restoration. I get an eerie feeling of daja vou. I’ve done this
before, been stuck on a planet less advanced than us with no way to get home.
But this time at least I’m with someone from home, someone who means a lot to
me. I can honestly say I’m glad I’m with Sam; the whole ordeal doesn’t seem so
bad when she’s around. Nothing seems quite so bad when she’s near.
Of course, I’m not supposed to think that
way. I have to remain focused and detached. I have to be able to keep a clear
head and make decisions, even if it means the loss of my team members life, and
that’s why the regs are there. They know if you care about someone, you may put
them first and make stupid mistakes, go out on a limb for them, freeze up or
give in to torture if you see them being hurt. It makes you weak and therefore
gives your enemy an advantage. I understand that, believe me, I really do, but
understanding it doesn’t mean you have to like it. I mean, what the hell makes
the military think that you can control or chose who you fall in love with? And
what makes them think they have the right to punish that love? I rub my hand
over my face and re-adjust my hat. ‘Crap’ I think to myself, ‘I guess if things
can't be different, I just have to get on with it. We both do’ I admit sadly.
“All right, it looks like this is home, so
let’s make the best of it. What do you say we look round for a house that isn’t
quite so…burnt, and move in? I know it’ll be weird, but I’m sick of that tent
already, plus, this is more practical.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll need to find a fresh water
source; from the look of things, the well’s been destroyed. And maybe some
tools wouldn’t go a miss; we can repair some of this stuff and use it.” She
says while she walks away from the gate and towards me.
“Ok, you get on the tools; I’ll look for a
place to stay. Meet you back here at,” I look at my watch, “it’s 0930 now, and
we’ll say 1100 hours. Then we can go find the water together, we could have to
walk miles and I don’t want us separated for too long, I still can't be sure
we’re alone.”
“Sir.” she nods and starts to walk towards
what looks like it was a blacksmith of some kind.
“Keep radio contact.” I call after her.
“Ok.” She calls back over her shoulder and
disappears into the shed/hut, moving pieces of fallen debris, careful not to
make the damage worse and risk the building collapsing in on her. I turn and
begin my search for home.
**
The houses in the immediate area are too
dangerous to even consider, with timber beams falling from the roofs now and then
and the thatch completely burnt to ruins on most. One more night like the last
and the house that was nearest the gate would be a pile of wood and nothing
more. So I take my search a bit further, in hope that the goa’uld have left
some accommodation for us. After walking about a mile I finally find it. A
small thatched house like the rest, but at least a quarter of a mile away from
the focal point of the village. It is hidden by a few pine-like trees, but
exposed enough to still get the morning sun in the cloth-covered windows. The
rooms are small but liveable, and already contain the basic’s; a stove, a bed
(only the one I notice) a table in which I assume is a the kitchen, complete
with a pan catching the water runoff, dripping steadily though a whole in the
ceiling. “Aw, that can be fixed,” I mumble to myself, looking up assess the
damage and catching a raindrop right in the eye!
As I make my way outside again, my watch
bleeps at me angrily. 10:45, time to start back to meet Carter. I take a quick
look at the garden (a small patch of land containing a few of the local
vegetables) and head back to the main square.
Five minutes into my journey and my radio crackles into life.
“Sir?” Carter’s voice (well, that’s obvious!)
“Carter? How’s it going?” I ask in a casual
way.
“Not bad Sir, I think I’ve got everything
we’ll need to get by. At least for now. Where are you?”
“I’m about 10 minutes from your position,
north-east. Good news, I’ve found us a place to stay. It could use a bit of a
tidy and a few repairs, but its in better condition than everything else round
here.”
“That’s good. Umm, sir…” the radio dies out.
I try to re-establish contact but it’s no good. It could just be the signal but
I decide not to take any chances and break into a sprint back to where I’d left
her. That building was on its last legs, it was stupid, STUPID of me to leave
her to go in their alone. It seems to take weeks to reach her (although it was
only five minutes in reality) and sure enough, I could see from a distance the building
had come down. ‘Please let her be ok, please let her be ok’ I repeat to myself
as I near the rubble.
“Carter? Carter?” I shout, reaching out to
pull some of the rubble away.
“Sir.” Her tiny voice comes from somewhere
beneath me. I step back and dig though the wreckage to find her, covered in
dust and soot, a tickle of blood running down the side of her head and her body
pinned down by a large timber beam.
“It’s ok Sam, I’m gonna get you out. Just
hold on, ok?” I have to keep her awake and talking; I know enough first aid to
know that. I try time and again to lift the beam, but it will not budge.
Finally I get a long strong piece of wood and use it as a leaver. Sam manages
to crawl out of her own accord, thank God! But then collapsed on the floor
beside me, gasping for air and barely holding on to consciousness.
“Sam, your ok, just take a few deep, steady
breaths, slowly.” She tries to comply but I can see the pain on her face. I’ve
had enough broken ribs in my time to know the signs, and hers look broken, I’m
as sure as I can be of it. “I’m sorry, this is my fault. I shouldn’t have let
you go in there alone.”
“Its… ok, not your… fault.” She breathes
heavily. I go back and retrieve her kit, and dig out the first aid box. Taking
out the bandages, antiseptic wipes and a morphine shot, I set to work. Morphine
is the first thing administered, and whilst talking about everything and
nothing to keep her awake, I gently lean her against a tree whilst I pulled
back her top and wrap her tender and already bruised ribs as tight as her deep
sighs of pain will let me. When the worst is done I clean the wound on her head
and stick butterfly stitches over it to insure it stays closed long enough to
heal. All I want to do right now is get her the hell out of here and back to
the infirmary where Janet can look after her and give her the best meds. I hate
seeing her in pain, and I hate knowing that I can only give her minimal
treatment. She needs better, she deserves better than I can offer. Perhaps in
more ways than one.
I carry her back to the house, (or should I
say hut?) I’d found and lay her on the bed. I don’t need her to tell me the
agony she feels, I can see it in her eyes and I know from experience. But her
eyes, they say it all, so much so I can't bear to look in to them, I can't see
her go through that knowing that there is nothing more I can do but be there
for her.
“Sir…” she lets out an aching groan as I turn
to our packs to find the blankets folded neatly within them. I take one out,
shake it off and place it over her, careful of her injuries.
“Shh, try to get some sleep. That morphine
should be kicking in any minute now.” I sit on the side of her bed and run my
fingers over her forehead and though her hair to brush out little bits of
debris and ash, watching as her eyes close gently, leaving an un-punctured
landscape across her face, of pale, almost ghostly white skin and dark shadowy
circles where bright blue eyes should be shining. I will my hand to repeat its
rout once more, feeling her feverishly hot skin beneath it and seeing the
slight blue tinge around her lips for the first time.
From her peaceful rest she suddenly lets out
a shudder and her skin rises with goose pimples. An obviously painful gasp chokes
and her eyes open as she fights to regain control over the hurt. As always,
trying to be the strong solider. Her hand takes mine in a vice like grip as I
try to reassure her and calm her down.
“Stay with me, don’t leave me…please.” She
begs though clenched teeth and shallow breaths.
“Hey, its ok. I promise I’m not gonna leave
you. I promise Sam. You’re gonna be ok.” Her eyes are on me holding me like a
rabbit caught in the headlights. She moves over towards the wall, as much as it
hurts her, and signals for me to lie down next to her. I do so, laying on my
side, facing her, and pulling up the blanket closer around her. My head moves
closer to hers instinctively, my arm wraps itself over her abdomen and I
whisper, “Sam, please try to rest, it’ll do you good.” She nods and again
closes her eyes, never once letting go of the hand she’d grabbed hold of
moments before.
I must have fallen asleep myself, because
when I wake up the sun has moved around to take up its resting position on the
horizon. Checking that she is still breathing and still asleep I very carefully
get up and help myself to another ration pack, before leaving a radio pressed
in her hand and leaving to find a water supply. If we were going to survive,
that is one thing we have to have.
**
Water is something that is not usually that
hard to find, and today is no different, I am very pleased to say. I followed
the direction of last nights rain, and bingo! A stream. I take out the
containers I had packed in my kit before leaving and fill each one to the top.
The water looks clear enough and it’s fast moving, but you can never be too
sure. I get some dry wood from the trees nearby and walk home, slightly more
weighed down than I had expected.
Day gives way to night as I light a fire in
the hearth, which is located in the centre of the main room, complete with its
own chimney and stove. Once I’m satisfied that the fire is good, I place a
container of water on the stove and set my watch to make sure that it boils for
at least five minutes.
Deciding its time to check in on Carter I
head for the bedroom and open the door wide enough to look inside with out
disturbing her, but I find her already awake and sitting up.
“Hey, what do you think your doing? You
should be resting!” I tell her off
“You sound like Janet!” She smiles.
“It hurts me that you would say that!
Besides, I don’t think white’s my colour!” a board smile spread across my face
as I see that some of the pain has obviously abandoned her body. Maybe her ribs
aren’t broken after all?
“How are you feeling” I enquire with a more
serious note.
“Actually, I think either that morphine is
really kicking in, or I’m just bruised and in shock.” She rubs her ribs,
sighing. “Either way, I think I’m gonna be sore for a while!”
I nod sadly, “take it easy Carter, and don’t
make me have to make that an order. I’ve got things covered here for the time
being, and I’ll have some water for you in about two minutes, I can mix you up
some coffee if you like. I never leave home with out coffee!”
“That’s tempting sir, but I think I’ll pass.
Thanks anyway, I just don’t think I can face it right now.”
“Sure. Give it twenty minutes and I reckon
the water will be cold enough to drink by itself. I’ll bring you some when it
ready. In the mean time, REST!” Hand gestures get her to roll her eyes and lay
down again, returning to the wood and rough sheets for a bed.
Three hours later and we’ve eaten, drunk and
are now once again sharing the same bed. I offered to sleep on the floor, but
she made jokes about my back, and to be honest, the floor…not that inviting!
The night passes, as do the days that follow. The days turn into weeks, the
weeks into months, and soon four months have passed us by. Carter’s ribs healed
nicely, whether they were actually broken I don’t know. We harvested the crops
in the land in front of our abode, going by our best guess of when it looked
ready and we built a channel to bring the water to us. Things actually were turning out quit well. Sam
and I began to lose hope of being found by the thirteenth week of being IMA and
came to accept it, although it was hard for both of us. Now we live a quiet
life, fishing, farming and doing whatever else we need to do to be
self-sufficient.
It has become second nature to us now; going
to bed together, getting up with the sun, looking after each other, loosing the
formalities of sir and major. We don’t cross that line, just in case one day,
they do come for us. For now I am content just that she lies in my arms every
night. I forgot how good it feels to have someone to wake up too, something to
wake up for.
She walks in to the house, which has had a
few…modern touches added to it, slightly chilled from the fresh auterm breeze
starting to move in. the winds can be bitter when they roll in off of the hills
or even the distant mountains which are tipped with snow.
“Jack, I think we need to search further a
field. We need to find somewhere more insulated, or we’re not going to survive
the winter. The crop is only enough to last us two, maybe three months, and its
going to be at least four before we can start thinking about replanting. Plus,
we have no animals to get any kind wool to make extra blankets from. I really
don’t know what the locals did. Maybe the goa’uld brought them everything they
needed.” She sits at the table opposite
me and helps herself to some water.
“Ok, we’ll pack up some gear and head out in
the morning. Maybe there’s something here, another village maybe, which can
help us?” I stare down at my own wooden mug of water, wishing it was a nice
cold bear, before putting it in the sink that I calved and Sam engineered a
water supply for and head for bed.
“I’m going to bed, if we’re gonna do this,
we’re gonna need enough sleep to ensure we can get out early and have maximum
hours of daylight.” She nods her agreement. “Are you coming?”
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” She smiles.
I head for the bedroom and sit on the bed,
take my boots and pants off and get in. These days it’s too cold to sleep in
bear feet and I always have slept in a t-shirt. We managed to find a few spare
ones lying around and tailored them to our sizes. Sam joins me minutes later
carrying a candle carefully in her hands. She places it on the bedside table we
had made together (its trickier than it looks you know!) and sheds the
appropriate clothing, leaving her dressed to match my own attire, before
climbing into bed and wrapping herself in my arms. I breathe in her scent,
which is still amazing even after four months on a planet with no showergel or
shampoo. She leans over and blows out the candle, whispering a sweet goodnight
before we both drift off into a comfortable sleep.
Only make-believe
If all of the strength and all of the courage
Come and lift me from this place
I know I could love you much better than this
Full of grace.
Sarah McLanlach – Full of Grace
Sam
I wake first, early enough to beat the dawn. Laying in his
arms as the sky turns from a deep blue to a colour glowing with the pale yellow
of the morning sun, I realise how much this has come to mean to me, how much I
need this. I don’t even know if I could sleep without him now. We don’t need
kissing and whatnot when looks and his arms say it all. We depend on each other
now, and we’ve come to respect and even love each other more for it. I don’t
really know why we haven’t crossed that line yet; I guess we just don’t need
too.
The sun grows higher and brings with it Jack’s awakening.
A small breeze carrying a chill floats through the window and Jack draws me in
closer to his chest, protecting his skin from the cold. As he takes a deep
breath so close to my neck, it sends a tremor rolling down my spine like an
avalanche.
“Morning,” he yawns, releasing me slightly and stretching,
then bringing his hand back to rub through his hair. I can't help but smile as
I turn to look at him, he’s hair confused as to its rightful place and his eyes
still half closed with sleep. He always looks this way in the morning, so
innocent and free from the troubles his hectic life exposes him to.
“Morning! We should make a move if you wanna beat the sun
today.” He nods and I pat his arm, leaving him to rouse as I roll over and
leave the bed. “I’ll make you some breakfast.”
“You’re an angel!” The words are said in a light tone but
carry a hidden meaning. I take it at face value for now, its too early for
encrypted messages.
*
Packing up our gear at first light, we move out and head
for the mountains, which stretch, ice-covered tips high above the heavy grey, water-laden
clouds. A thick white mist hovers above the hills and makes it difficult to see
the land it covers. The mist and clouds merge, pierced only by those mountains;
you’d have to stand on the shoulders of giants to reach the top. Hours pass
with nothing more than mindless chit chat as the last of the summer sun gently
heats the land and the mist lifts, condensing and adding to the ominous rain
clouds that linger around the sun, threatening to close in on it and engulf it.
I begin to wonder if we’ll find anywhere to take shelter before the heavens
open and we get a royal soaking.
Before I can even finish this thought, Jack is standing
still, hand on to my shoulder, halting me and leading me to follow his gaze. A
dark and creepy looking building…no, more of a fortress, looks down on us from
its lookout point at the top of a steep slop, filling the area around it with
deep shadows. We approach a bit further, but with caution.
“What do you think?” Jack asks as we sit hidden in the
gloom the tall walls.
“Seems pretty quiet. I mean, just
because it’s a dark and evil looking place doesn’t mean that the people are dark and evil?” I give
him my best convincing smile, but he just looks suspicious. “Does it?” I add under my breath, suddenly unsure
of the answer myself. Nevertheless we enter the fortress through a large,
medieval looking wooden door, which thinking about it, I guess fits in with the
rest of the planet, so obviously this isn’t some tourist attraction!
A strange place, dark and ethereal is
illumination only by evenly spaced burning torches; wood like poles blazing a
deep yellow fire. Eerie shadows creep along the walls and the long corridor
echoes with the hum of Latin-like chants. A cold chill runs its icy fingers
down my spine; as if a ghost has just walked right though me. The sounds draw
nearer and nearer until they seem to be right on top of us.
Feeling the prickling on the back of my neck
as the hairs gently rise to stand on end, I turn to see the hooded figures of
six creatures rounding the corner at the bottom of the hallway, and watch as
they continue their journey towards us. They are dressed in long dark green
robes and their hands are concealed in each opposite sleeve. Hoods hang low
over their faces so that only their mouths can be seen, and they seem to glide
along, like they walk on air.
As they draw closer and their cries fill our
minds, a sudden pain shoots through my skull. A pain so strong I fall to the floor
clutching my head between my hands. The closer they come, the more intense it
gets. When finally they pass (not changing their path and therefore the feet of
one passing right through me) seemly not noticing us, it is like every breath
is being pulled from my body and I begin to choke for air. They continue, this
time fleeing away from us. I put a hand out on the floor to steady myself as my
respiratory system craves oxygen. It seems like forever but when they are far
enough away again, air rushes back into my lungs making me slightly dizzy as it
starts to work on my screaming body.
“What the hell was that?” breathed a heavy
voice behind me. Jack
“I have no idea” I just about manage to say,
trying to remember how to make words come out of my mouth that sound normal.
“Did you…” he begins, gesturing his hand
towards me.
“Feel as though my lungs were on fire?” I
finish. He nods. “Yeah.”
“Well, lets not wait around for them to come
back. I don’t know about you, but I really like my ability to breath.”
We gather our gear together and head off in
no predetermined direction, walking around this maze like place, which quite
frankly is giving me the creeps. Jack must have landed on his arm when the
‘monks’ came past, he’s scrunched-up expression when he picks up his bag tells
me that much. We find a quiet ‘safe’ place and I take a look at it, my turn to
tend to his wounds. It’s broken, his arm that is. I make a make shift sling and
splint (which I got the impression he didn’t appreciate very much from he’s yelling
of, “ow, damn it woman!” he did however, apologise profusely for this comment,
to which I just smiled and said, “Oh that’s ok, wimp.”) My own injuries include
bruises (at the very least) and a sore bum (which Jack doesn’t know about, and
it’s gonna stay that way.)
Our journey eventually leads us to
underground passages, which in turn lead us out the Abbey. Its cold and dark,
much like inside. The sound of a large body of water, maybe a sea can be heard
close by as it rushes and collides with the shore. The night sky has rushed in
with its has moons, lending us a little light to find our way with, the ground
is once again sodden where those rain clouds discharged their immense water,
and creature’s eyes that appear from no where seem to follow us. I quicken my
pace slightly to stay instep with Jack and tighten my grip on the gun in my
side pouch. My free hand hangs loosely beside me and once or twice bumps into
his leg. I can almost feel him giving me that little look of surprise but
comfort and naturalistic ease that accompanies it. He knows I am unsettled, and
takes my hand. I never have been a fan of the dark, and especially not when
there are castles and hungry animals around! My gun used to bring me comfort
when I had to go on watch back in the days… when SG1… oh man, I miss them.
Teal’c, Daniel, my dad. Hell, I even miss Janet’s needles!
Sparks fill the chilled night air, and being
so dark, we have nowhere to go. We both know we have to go back in there. Back
into that place that offers so much in the way of 1950’s horror movie clichés.
We don’t have a choice, though you can bet we are damn well gonna avoid those
air suckers. Did I just say that? Ok, I have spent way too much alone
time with Jack.
We go back into the fortress, following a
labyrinth of secret and forgotten about passageways, and eventually find our
way into a large room. It’s totally different and out of place to the rest of
the fortress. The eeriness and medieval feel is missing, replaced by a clean
and untouched, glass room. The ceiling is high, and peeks to a glass dome, that
traps the moonlight, splitting its light like a prism, and directing the light
beams to the central focus of the room… a stargate. Questions buzz around my
head, like why has this place got two gates? Two working gates?
But then everything clears and I’m left with
one thought, and it hits me like a ton of bricks. This is our ticket home.
Finally, after months, all we have to do is dial seven symbols, and we’re outer
here. I look round to Jack, standing still and silent, gazing at the gate with
a slight sadness on his face, hidden beneath oar and relief. Does he know what
I know, is his heart screaming all of a sudden like mine? If we go home… this,
us, is over. We can't have a relationship with the regulations in place. If we
go back, can we go back? I know we didn’t cross the line, and I know that we
had thought that this might happen, but I didn’t really prepare myself for the
prospect of going home and pretending I don’t love him, going back to an empty
cold bed, just calling him ‘sir’ again is enough to fracture my heart and break
my dreams. I’d prepared myself for the thought it would be him and me from now
on, and I liked that thought! I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I
can go back to before.
He turns to me, the look on his face matching
mine. Without knowing it I must have got my face to mirror my emotions, and wet
droplets fall from my eyes. I brush them away and tell him something from my
heart. Something I didn’t think I would say but it just comes out.
“Jack, when we get back, marry me?” The words
fall out of mouth as if I say them everyday. He moves closer to me and places
one hand in mine; suddenly very interested in the way they knit together so
perfectly.
“What about SG1?” he doesn’t even look me in
the eye as he asks.
“We’ve been gone four months, Jack. They will
have replaced us by now, and I’m sure whoever the new 2IC is, is copping just
fine. If the SGC still needs me, then I’ll stay on….as a civilian.” I move to
get his eyes to meet mine, stepping closer and lifting his face with a lightly
placed finger on his rough, unshaven chin. I rest my head to his for a moment
before going on, “Jack, being here has made me realise something.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I can't live without you anymore. I can't
pretend that I don’t love you, that I don’t want you when it’s obvious that I
do.”
He’s eyes burn mine, his hands rest on my
hips, our bodies are so close, and I swear I can hear his heart beating, or is
it mine? They’re the same thing. It’s
this drone that is the only sound to fill the room until I prompt him to answer
my question.
“Its amazing.” A smile spreads across his
face, making me even more confused.
“What is?”
“How much I would give you. Its kinda scary
really. Sam, I’ll give you the world, just ask.” he smiles.
“That’s ok, I don’t want the world, well not
the kind you mean. You’re my world, Jack. Nothing else matters. Please marry
me. I’m asking, no, begging you, please.” I desperately search his face for the
answer. His lips curl into a smile and his forehead winkles just a tiny bit as
he chuckles.
“Of course I’m going to marry you!” A hand
leaves my waist and is on my check in seconds, and then his lips are there too,
moving their way steadily to meet my own. I smile as he kisses me, and I drown
in all that is he. I am so lost in his kiss, so taken away by the emotion, the
relief and happiness of knowing that Jack O’Neill is mine, that I don’t hear
them coming.
Our lips part, and almost in slow motion I
see him getting further away, moving away from me, his hand grasps mine, but
our fingers are sweaty and his hold on me slips away. Noise, there’s a lot of
noise, but it’s drowned out as my eyes stay locked on him. The breath in my
lungs just disintegrates. Bright yellow
shots fire from his weapon; a screaming of a ghostly nature steals more of my
precious air. Thunderous beats deafen me as my eyes open and close slowly,
trying desperately to keep him in sight. Then I see them. Just dark, swaying cloaks
closing in on him, backing him up against the gate. I try to get up and help,
but my body won’t let me. There’s a pain, in my neck, something icy and my body
is now completely devoid of oxygen. The thunderous beats of my eyes grow slower
until they finally come to rest, remaining open, fixed on the one thing I ever
truly loved. Jack.
My Immortal
They that love beyond the world
cannot be separated by it.
Death cannot kill
what never dies.
-William Penn
* Jack *
Quickly she’s falling away from me, being
pulled by the long claw like fingers of the demon that stands before me. Her
face is empty, she doesn’t know what’s happening as he sinks his teeth into her
neck and drinks the air from her, leaving her limp and lifeless in his sickly
arms that leach night-coloured liquid as stolen oxygen floods their blue,
inflamed veins.
I grab my gun, hardly believing only seconds
have passed, and start shooting as they close in on me. The bullets have no
effect on them, so I change to a zat. Still no effect and they grow closer; so
close I feel the breath being taken from me already. Backed up against the gate
I do the only thing I can. I hit seven symbols, any, I don’t care, and the as I
begin to choke, I hit the orange globe. The gate jumps into action, spitting
out a jet of blue water-like material. I duck just time, as the ‘monks’
surrounding me are swallowed by the event horizon.
The last shreds of air being held captive in
my lung begins to burn. I fight it off, grabbing the concealed knife from my
boot. Blind rage drives me and I charge at the creature standing over her body.
Feeling nothing but a hunger for vengeance
and a stony satisfaction, the knife’s clean, cold metal blade sinks into its
throat. The screams of previous victims are released as black blood falls from
the gash. The animal lays limp on the floor, dissolving from the acid effects
of its own bleeding. In seconds it is nothing more than a pile of robes and
dust.
I look down at Sam. No air is drawn into her
body, and no attempt is made by her heart to beat. I fall to my knees beside
her, releasing my vice-like grip on the knife and letting it fall from my red
hands. Air floods me, and so does emotion. Her eyes are open and fixed on no
particular point. Her face is pale and her lips blue. Dark red blood leaks from
her neck where his tooth had been, and is heavily contrast on its snow white
canvas. I touch her hand. It’s still warm. Suddenly I fall back into military
mode and push aside all the pain I feel.
I lift her head back gently and check that
her air ways have not been obstructed by the bite. They are clear, so begin
CPR, breathing for her, and massaging her heart to try and kick start it again.
But the more I try the more I fear she won’t wake up.
“Come on Sam. Don’t you dare die on me! Not
now!” I beat her chest. I think I might be hurting her ribs, maybe even
breaking them under the force of my determination not to lose her. But I was
always told in training, ‘broken ribs can be fixed’.
“COME ON! Please, Sam.” I shout, before again
blowing air into her mouth, emptying my own lungs to fill hers. Her chest
rises, and falls again as the air leaves without effect. Pumping her heart
three more times, and then repeating as before, her chest raises again. But
this time it stays risen. Choking as her borrowed oxygen mixes with her body’s
own attempt to breathe its own, her eyes blink.
My fingers are at her neck instantly. She has
a plus, all be it weak. I lean down over her and kiss her head lightly, before
realising its wet. Tears from my own eyes.
“You had me worried for a minute there!”
A frail smile crosses her lips. “Sorry” she
whispers.
Wanting to pull her up, hold her in my arms
and not let go, but knowing she needs space to recover, I squeeze her hand
reassuringly and move over to the gate. I dial home, and send the signal
telling them it’s us.
Minutes later and I am once again standing on
the metal ramp, facing a room of armed guards, gun barrels pointing at me and
the woman lying in my arms, clinging on to life by a thread. General Hammond
orders the men to stand down and the concerned faces of Daniel and Teal’c greet
us at the bottom of the walk way.
I feel the blood from Sam’s wound begin to
soak through my clothing and I begin to panic. Her head, which I made sure was
near my neck so that I could fell her breath, falls limp once more as she loses
consciousness. The General doesn’t need me to tell him, in a second he is
ordering a medical team to the gate room. Within seconds a full medical team is
swarming into the gate room.
“Help her” I beg.
They take her from me and rush her to the
infirmary, starting CPR once again. I hadn’t realised she had stopped breathing
again. I go to follow but am stopped by a confident by sympathetic hand on my
shoulder.
“Let them do their job’s, son.” General
Hammond. I turn to face him, my head spinning from the emotion and distress of
the last ten minutes. That’s all! Ten minutes and the greatest thing in my
life, the most important person and the only one, who could make me feel like…
like I used to feel, like I never thought I’d feel again, could be gone. Ten
damn minutes.
“Sir.” I respond with a suddenly very dry
mouth, so the words crock out, scratching the sides on their way. As an after
thought I add, “It’s good to be home.” Which is matched with an, ‘its good to
have you home’, but I’m already walking away. I walk at a fast pace, not
wanting questions right now. I quickly find my way around the base again, and
head straight for the water cooler in the briefing room. I down several cups
before I can feel remotely alive again.
“Jack. What happened?” The question I knew
was coming, and the very same question I don’t want and probably can’t answer
right now. I place the cup on the mighty wooden table and rub a hand over my
tried and slightly irritated face, feeling the stubble of having neglected
shaving for over a month; the razor in my kit had gone blunt and left me with
no other option.
“You know, its funny,” I reminisce with a
sad, old voice, “it bugged her at first; the stubble I mean. But she got used
to it, the feel of it on her skin, on her neck and back when she slept in my
arms. She said it was nice sometimes, when it would tickle.”
Daniels eyebrows knit together and a frown
spreads across his face. He doesn’t understand, probably doesn’t even know what
I’m talking about.
“Whilst we were on that planet Daniel, we had
no one else. After a few months we gave up hope of being found, and we made
arrangements. Look, why beat around the bush, you know Sam and I have feelings
for one another, the whole base knows I’ve no doubt. We grew closer and…” its
no good. Talking about her like this drives the nail in my heart in even deeper.
How could this have happened, how and why when we were so close to happiness?
Before he can say anything, I leave the room,
brushing past him on the way. I need air and I need something to stop my damn
eyes from itching. I try and convince myself that it’s the change in planet
that’s making them sore, but I can't fool myself that easily. Something inside
me feels empty and cold. I know, I just know that she’s gone; I can't feel her
here anymore. I used to be able to just know when she was near me; I’d get that
feeling like I was being watched, like a million butterflies were dancing on my
skin. So when Janet brings the news, the usual ‘I’m so sorry,’ ‘I tried
everything I could’ ‘she’s gone’ speech, I am left hollow. I sit in the cool
night air and look up as the stars litter the black curtain draped across the
horizon. The stars that once meant so much to me, brought me out of a world of
suffering and killing to put me at peace now seem to taunt me. Sitting up
there, so high and mighty, controlling the fate of the lives of the people
below. Taking away loved ones in the blink of an eye. How could he? If there is
a God, how could he do this to me? I have lost my chance at happiness thrice,
each time stolen from me prematurely.
I run from the base, not stopping or looking
back for anyone. I need to get away, somewhere I can do that thing I usually
try and hide from. Think things through. I tell Janet that under no
circumstances is she to do anything with the body. That I needed a few hours
before I could say goodbye, and I wanted her to still be there when I was
ready.
But inside I know the truth, I need to fix
this. I need her back. I’m not ready and never will be to say goodbye.
Ghosts
Sun
Light pours forth on blinded eyes.
I face the truth of my demise.
I'll not resist, though pain is strong -
The ending notes of one last song.
Deprived of thought, my mind is numb.
At last this final day has come.
The hand of death wraps 'round my throat
As devils cloaked in sorrow float
Around my body, scorched by sin,
But I won't let the demons in.
The image of your face appears.
I cannot wipe away your tears.
They fall so gently to the ground
And say so much yet make no sound.
I reach out toward the brilliant sky.
I've lived enough. Now let me die.
Numb is all I feel. This can't be happening.
I can't bring myself to go and she her, coz that would make it real, make it
final. I don’t want to believe it, not yet. I want to pretend I’ll walk into
her lab and there she’ll be, playing with some new doohicky and nothing will
have happened. Everything will be fine again. I’d take back the last four
months in a heartbeat just to see her smile again.
I drove home, stopping only for a six-pack of
bear and TV dinner, not that I feel like eating, but I promised Janet. Walking
through my door, I’m surprised how musty it smells, and how quickly the spiders
made themselves at home the seconds my back was turned. My belongings are boxed
up; the guys didn’t know what else to do with them. They’d drop by once a week
at different times to make sure no one was helping themselves to my stuff, but
they thought it best to pack things up, just in case we didn’t come back. I’m
sure if I should be grateful or annoyed.
I enter the kitchen, pull the box from the
bag, dig into it and pull out a bear, leaving everything else where it is and
heading for the front room to plant myself on the sheet-covered sofa. I feel myself sitting on something- the hifi
remote. I hit the play button; some nice easy jazz comes on. Norah Jones, I
must have left the CD in there months ago. I’ve been a fan of jazz since I was
a kid. I close my eyes, taking a long drag on my painkiller for the night as I
see her face, her hands, and her body. Feel her skin, hear her voice. She
should be here. We should be sitting here now together, eating pizza and her
teasing me over buying this album, when really she was glad we’d be living
together from now on, coz otherwise she’d have to get her own copy.
The song finishes and the next comes on. Two
lines are as loud as thunder in my head; ‘I can't help myself, I’ve got too see
you again’. Tears sting! They really cut like knives sometimes. I thought when
Charlie died; I thought that I’d never feel pain like that again. Too lose your
child is like losing part of your own flesh, like someone has cut your heart
out and throw it against a wall, and you watch, helpless as it slowly slides
down, leaving a trail of blood behind it, too land in a heap on the floor. This
is just exactly like that. A part of me has died, and it’s a part I can't live
without.
“Jack?” my eyes are open in a flash. Sam.
Standing right there, in front of me. For a second, I forget everything and
stand up, moving to hold her close, but she’s gone. Her body that was right
there, so real I could smell her perfume just vanishes in a mist and I’m left
standing, reaching out to touch an elusion. I can't explain it but a sudden
wave of anger and frustration rushes over me. I throw my bear, which collides
with the wall, smashing into a shower of glass and alcohol, landing on the
carpet and leaving a stain. I can't sit here anymore. I can't be in this house
that should have been ours, watching ghosts haunt me. I have to do something to
get her back.
Within an hour I’m back at the base,
demanding to see Hammond. I explain to him that I have to do something; he, of
course, tries to convince me that she’s gone to a better place, that I have to
sit back and take it, but I can't accept that. I won’t!
“If you won’t do it for me, do it for Sam.
She’s your goddaughter for crying out loud. She’s so young, sir, don’t you
think she deserves more of a life than she’s had so far? Don’t you think she
should have known love, happiness, before she leaves? General, please!”
“God damn it, I know Jack! But you think I
can just give you permission to go bringing people back from the dead? That’s
something that only one man has the right to do, and it’s not me, son!”
I rub an irritated hand over my face, paying
particular attention to my eyes, damming the river that’s about to flow. I
sallow hard and tell him the cold hard truth, hoping that it will be enough to
make him understand.
“General, Sam and I were going to be married.
She asked me just before…” I can't say it. “Look, just let me use the gate,
please. If you don’t, you can tell the grave digger he’ll be getting some more
work real soon!” his eyes widen in shock, or is it disbelief, no, he knows I’d
do it. He closes his eyes for a second, digesting my words. Sighing sadly, he
gives me his consent with a small nod of his head, adding a few words as I
leave.
“Be careful, Jack. You’re medalling with a
powerful force now.” I nod and almost run to see Daniel. If anyone knows whom I
have to talk to, it’s him.
**
“Well, there’s the Nox. We know first hand
that they can revive their dead. But I don’t think they like to interfere if
the person has been dead for over a certain amount of time, something to do
with irreparable damage. Besides, while you were gone, they had to move and
they haven’t contacted us with their new address yet. We expect it any day
now.”
“Well, then I guess there out, who else?”
Daniels face had been priceless when I told
him everything. He agreed to help me, although he didn’t agree with what I was
doing, or so he said. It’ll be different when she’s back. He’ll be glad.
“Well, we haven’t got a sarcophagus and
getting one would be too risky, the General would never go for it. The Tok’ra, but
I’m not sure if they can actually bring people back from the dead? I mean, they
can heal, but can they revive? We’ve recently met a new race, they have the
ability, or so they say, to ask the gods to grant life. They are pagans, or
like them any way and worship the sun and moon. We have a good relationship
with them.”
“Sounds good, let’s go.”
“Jack?”
“What?”
“Why are you doing this? I loved her too but
and I see why you don’t wanna lose that, but she’s gone, can’t you let her rest
in piece?”
“Daniel, did you ever feel like you’d rather
put a gun to your head than spend another day without the only person capable
of giving you a reason to breath. The only person who you look at and know that
they’re everything to you, they’re you world?”
“Yeah.” He says sadly, looking at the
photograph of his wife on his desk before picking up the folder on this new
race and saying “let’s go.”
*
It took a couple of days and some long sleepless nights but the arrangements I made with Jasper paid off. He held up his end of the bargain, and I had managed to convince Hammond that this is a good idea. Daniel did a little research and couldn’t find any reason why we shouldn’t give it a go. Ok, it could be a bit risky, but what’s the worst that could happen? I’m just glad I didn’t have to go behind their backs after all. To be honest, I don’t even know if I could have