Author: Fai
Status: Complete
Spoilers: Anything up to Menace
Category: Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Action Adventure, Angst, Drama
Pairings: None
Season: Mid season 5
Rating: R
Content Warning: ** Violence, moderate cursing
Summary: Is the definition of evil formed by actions or intents?
Authors Note: This is a little heavier than I normally write, so please note the Content Warnings and see special warnings below if you don’t care about spoilers. Thanks so much to Carrie for keeping this from being a story about a barley eating horse going down a slide and for cracking me up. All errors are mine and mine alone. This is a team story. Feedback is always appreciated and always responded to.
“Once or twice, sir,” the blue eyed major mumbled as she continued to poke at the complaining man’s knee. It was very swollen, but she couldn’t feel anything broken or out of place. Major Samantha Carter leaned back on her heels to give her assessment to her commanding officer, Colonel Jack O’Neill.
“So?” He was giving her an expectant look, like she could wave a magic wand and fix it. Sam was well aware of the nickname she had around the SGC, Super Sam the Fix-it Ma’am. At first, it had ruffled her a bit and she’d stomped around base looking for a way to put the rumor mill out of business. After a while she decided it was actually kind of amusing and it certainly beat some of the alternatives she could think of being called. If only the man in front of her was a computer, she’d have him leaping buildings in no time. Unfortunately, flesh and blood was not in her ‘fix-it’ area of expertise.
She pulled in a deep breath and gave him her best guess, “I think you just twisted it, there doesn’t seem to be any indication of serious damage.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Then can you tell me why you’re looking at me like I get the honor of being your first amputation?”
Sam could feel the blush creeping up her face and she looked everywhere but in the colonel’s eyes. She blurted the words out as quickly as possible, hoping he would get the implication. “I need to wrap the knee.”
“So?”
He was really going to make her say it. Fine, she was a grown up. “So, the cuff of your pant leg won’t go up far enough. You’ll need to... You’re going to have to…” Sam gestured loosely at the man’s waist, going from blush to beet red. “Sir, you’re going to have to…”
“Drop trou, Major?”
Okay, him saying it didn’t make it any better. She still wanted to disappear. “Ah, yes. Sir. Yes.” Sam suddenly found the stone floor amazingly intriguing. Oh my, look at that, the alien version of ants running around all over down here. Maybe they should bring a few back with them for study?
“Don’t worry, Carter. You’re not the first person to try to get me out of my pants.”
If she looked up she would see the smirk that always went with that tone. Just for that she was going to occupy herself with finding the ace bandages instead of helping the man, in his words, drop trou. After a few minutes of pretending to search for the item she had in her hand, she heard the colonel clear his throat.
“All set, Major.”
Sam studiously kept her eyes locked on the man’s knee. It was swollen and looked a little off color, but she thought her initial diagnosis was correct. She set about wrapping the injury, determined to keep the idea she was kneeling next to a very attractive man in his boxers at bay. Finally satisfied with her handiwork, she gave a nod to O’Neill as this time she legitimately scrounged around her med-pack.
Fishing the small packet out, she looked up to find the colonel dressed and handed him the two small tablets and a canteen of water. “Ibuprofen for the swelling.”
He accepted and swallowed them without complaint. After making sure his leg was elevated, Sam grabbed her flashlight and figured it was time to find a way out of this lovely little area they had detoured into. She tried once more in vain to hail Daniel or Teal’c on the radio, hoping it was only the stone walls they were surrounded by blocking the signal. A worried frown marred her face as she asked herself, how do we always get into these messes?
~~ * ~~
Two days prior
SG-1 stepped out onto the raised wooden platform that held the Stargate, Daniel Jackson heading directly for the DHD. He called out a confirmation, assuring them the MALP transmission had been accurate, everything looked in working order and all the glyphs to get home were visible. Sam was impressed with his considerable restraint as he managed to stay silent and look expectantly to the team lead. For once, there would be no dissension on where to go or for how long. The UAV had sent back very precise information.
The weather on the planet was not the most desirable but tolerable, with temperatures in the lower sixties during the day, dropping to a near freezing low thirties at night. The lunar cycle provided an equal split with eight hours of daylight to the eight of darkness. One small moon made nighttime travel pretty much out of the question. The terrain was a mixture of wooded and open areas, the Stargate being located in one of the clearings. The most intriguing aspects, however, were shown in the UAV video transmissions, two visible previously inhabited areas.
The first one looked to be the older of the two. It was a little less than two days walk from the gate. There were no signs of life, dilapidated buildings and nothing to indicate the who, what or when of the place. From a technology standpoint, the colonel hadn’t been too optimistic, but he admitted previous experience had proven appearances could be deceiving. The second area was about equal distance but in the opposite direction. This had looked more promising on the somewhat grainy UAV transmission. The buildings were less rundown and there were markers that clearly held writing. Daniel and Teal’c were able to identify Goa’uld and a second language both were unfamiliar with. Daniel and Sam believed one of the areas might lead to another with inhabitants, but the UAV wasn’t equipped to go any further than it had.
The plan was simple – they had a go and seven days to work with. They would walk one day out together then split, Sam and Jack going to the older area, Daniel and Teal’c heading to the other. It should have taken about half a day to reach their respective areas, the rest of the day to explore. Depending on what they found, they would regroup a day or two later at the spot deemed most worthy of being explored, keeping two days aside to make it back to the gate. Radio contact would be made every three hours after they separated.
And so they had walked, slept, broke camp and separated without a hitch, the colonel and her setting a comfortable pace to their destination. Check-ins had been regular and uneventful, that is if you didn’t count Goa’uld suddenly spouting from your shoulder. They both had spun around, weapons at the ready at the sound of the all too familiar dialect before they realized it was Daniel. He had obviously been so swept up in reading some of the markings, he kept on with the language when reporting in. Sam had smiled as she watched the colonel close his eyes and rub his forehead, utilizing all his self-control to very politely thank Daniel for remembering to report in and, if it wasn’t too much bother, to let Teal’c do all future radio checks, preferably in English. She could picture Daniel’s face as he stammered, ‘Ah, sure,’ more likely than not unaware of what he had done and confused by the odd request. True to form, however, Teal’c had initiated the next report.
Sam and Jack were slowly making their way from building to building. Most were made of stone and rotting wood, standing one or two stories tall. Some had basements and some were a few more stories, but all were barren. To paraphrase the colonel, they had found ‘a whole lotta nothing.’ Sam was inclined to agree. The structures were completely void of anything, no writing, no artifacts, not even the simplest of objects to give some clue about the people who had lived there. They had three left to go through before they would head back towards Daniel and Teal’c. They had found no reason here to justify pulling the two men away from the linguistic smorgasbord Daniel was currently feasting on.
Sam stepped through the doorway of one of the last buildings on the colonel’s heels, shining her flashlight around in the slim hope of finding anything to have made the walk worthwhile.
“Well, well Carter, imagine this, an empty building. After the wonderland of discovery we’ve seen so far, this is a bit of a letdown, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely, sir. Very disappointing.” Sam hoped the colonel’s sarcasm signified his desire to skip the last two buildings and head straight to meeting up with their teammates.
“What do you say we get the heck out of Dodge, Major?”
Sam was about to agree wholeheartedly when they both heard the ominous creaking emanating from below their feet. Less than a heartbeat later, they were plummeting into darkness.
~~ * ~~
Pain. It was the blanket folded around him and the bed on which he lay. It radiated through every vein and stabbed into his body and soul with each breath. His senses told him he was mostly unconscious and completely in pain. There was a thought nagging in the back of his brain telling him there was a reason to wake, but it escaped him. He began to let go of his tenuous grip on reality, slipping back into blissful nothingness when it came to him.
Daniel Jackson! He could hear the alarmed young man’s voice calling out his name as hot agony tore Teal’c in two. He could see him being violently manhandled to the ground as the others came at them, just before the blackness overcame him.
The disturbing visions assaulted him, forcing Teal’c to rejoin the living. Recognition of his body crept back, bringing along with it even more pain he would not have believed possible had he not been experiencing it first hand. He was lying on his wounded stomach, face pressed into the chilled earth. Unsure if he was alone or in the midst of the enemy, he ‘played possum’ as O’Neill had once called it. Keeping his breathing slow and shallow to give the appearance of death, he listened closely for any signs of nearby danger. Stillness surrounded him. He could hear no trace of his assailants and disturbingly, no sound of the breathing of his young friend. It was time to move.
He concentrated every ounce of his energy into forcing his eyes open, only to find himself enveloped in a cocoon of shadowy images. Once he was confident he would be able to stay alert, he slowly brought his hands up to shoulder level. With one gigantic breath and push, he was able to log roll himself onto his back and away from the ground drenched with his own blood. Everything grayed around the edges and Teal’c clenched his jaw and hands, staying conscious by sheer force of will. Letting his eyes close, he schooled his breathing, knowing his next move may take more than his body had to offer. No matter what the cost, he would find his teammate and punish those that had brought them harm. This promise to himself was still echoing in his head as he lost the battle and was carried over the edge and into the abyss.
~~ * ~~
Dark eyes watched the Evil ones from the safety of above. It had been six moon cycles since they had been banished to the place of the cursed and nearly three since they had first felt the faint rumble signifying the arrival of the beings that claim to be of the Gods. The first time the Evil had come was well before Shomas’s life had begun. The story had been passed from father to son many times over. It told the sad tale of long ago when the Great Ring had sprung to life and spewed out an army of servants and two of the Evil. They spoke a language none could understand, but their weapons were powerful and caused great harm to their people.
Two of the town’s men were taken away and when they returned, they were no longer of clean spirit. They were now able to speak the tongue of the Evil and declared themselves Gods. Shomas’s people knew this to be untrue. It took a generation times two for the people to find a way to chase the Evil from their land, but they had been victorious. Those who had not perished had fled through the Great Ring and had never returned, until now. The time in between had been spent mostly carefree, the only harm to the people came from the curse the Evil had left behind.
Twice each generation, a plague befell the population. First a small rash would form along the smooth skin inside the forearm near the elbow of the cursed. It would be followed by the fever, the waking dreams and finally, death. Some it took within ten cycles of the moon, others it took nearer twenty. It seemed to take the youngest first, but that was irrelevant; all would succumb in the end. As soon as the rash would appear, all the people where checked and the ones deemed cursed would be sent to the place the people had lived when the Evil had first come. They would die in isolation, protecting their brothers and sisters by their absence, allowing the un-cursed to live on in safety. This is what had brought Shomas, the man beside him and twenty others to this place. Had they not been there, they may never have felt the signal from the Great Ring. They waited, knowing the Evil would soon be drawn to them.
When it had, the people of the cursed had met to decide the fate of the Evil. The stories told of their great power and magic. There was a structure in the old place that was said to hold their secrets. One in each generation was charged with unlocking the mystery, all had failed. Shomas convinced the cursed the Evil could be made to free the magic and use it to cure them. Once done, they would force the being to stop the spread of the curse, allowing them to live without fear, as was the will of their real God. The ten men, six women and six children knew this to be their only hope and agreed it was wise. Now Shomas and Kaid watched from the tree above as the Evil and the one that wore the mark of the servant moved from area to area. Eight others were placed in a circle around the two, waiting for the signal from him to strike.
It was said the Evil had the strength of five men and the servants nearly so. They needed surprise on their side as well as weapons. To defeat the one that wore the mark, a spear to the belly killing the Evil within was the only way they knew of. The Evil itself needed to be taken alive. Kaid was, at times, a man of great anger and during those moments, cruelty would flow from him in waves. Normally Shomas tried to curb these tendencies in his younger brother but today they would be used to benefit his people. It would be a difficult task, but doomed men know no fear. They will capture the magic or die trying.
Shomas’s breath quickened when he saw the two approach the structure of magic. The Evil spoke rapidly in its vile tongue while the one of the mark appeared to be on guard. With reverence, the Evil ran its hands along the words etched into the wall next to the entrance to the place where magic was held. Shomas was surprised by the wonder he saw in its eyes. He had believed from the tales to see hatred alone lying there. He was beginning to worry that they had misjudged this one when it called out excitedly to the one of the mark and made a series of motions on the door of the structure. He could hear the faint rubbing as the door slid open, providing an inlet to the magic it held. Only the Evil could have the knowledge needed to accomplish that and it was confirmation that these were indeed of the Evil ones.
The time had come. Kaid was pushing at his arm, eager to attack the Evil below. Shomas made the quiet call and his group moved into action as one. The Marked One came aware of their presence just a fraction too late. As he bore his weapon down, the spear was launched, hitting its goal and driving deep into his flesh. The dark man lost his grip on his weapon, clutching at the spear that quickly became stained with blood. He let out a cry of agony and rage, calling the Evil back into the open. As soon as it cleared the doorway, a sleep dart was directed at its back. It too found its mark, causing the beast to stumble slightly as it called out to the dark one in a tone of undeniable anguish.
Kaid jumped forward and drove the spear nearly through the Marked, wrenching it free with fierce abandon, causing another cry of misery to fill the air. The wounded man, having now lost the ability to make sound, looked to the Evil. Shomas watched as another dart made its way to the Evil’s shoulder followed by two of his men roughly knocking it to the ground, using a stinger to shock it into submission. The dark one finally succumbed to the injury and fell forward, landing in a lifeless heap, hand stretching out towards the Evil with his dying act. The combination of the stinger and sleep darts had had the desired effect on the Evil as it also fell to their will.
He heard a cry of triumph rise up and saw Vaile duck into the shelter of their last hope. He was out again within moments with the realization of their dreams clutched to his chest, causing another cry to ring out from the men. Vaile walked to him, placing the small, ornate golden box in his hands as gently as he would a newborn babe. Shomas looked down at their salvation. His life, his son’s life, his friends’ lives all lay within his hands, but they had not found victory yet. They were still at the mercy of the creature that lay at his feet.
Shomas looked down at the still form of the Evil one, unconscious and being bound for transport to the prepared area. He had not expected it to be taken so easily. He had not expected to see fear in its eyes. He had not expected to see concern for its servant. Most of all he had not expected to feel the twinge of guilt as it was flung carelessly over Kaid’s shoulder. He put their treasure in his pack and looked over at the body of the dead servant, left out for the forest creatures to clean up like so much trash. May the real God forgive us he prayed, hoping they had done the right thing.
~~ * ~~
Sam had made it all the way around the cellar they had fallen into, unfortunately finding nothing to aid in a quick exit. She only saw one possible solution and the colonel wasn’t going to like it. It was that or wait for Teal’c and Daniel to find them, which she was willing to bet he’d like even less. She dropped back down at his side, reaching over to check his injury.
“How’s the knee?”
He gave her a warning look and pointedly declared, “It’ll be fine as long as you don’t go poking at it again.”
She ignored him and wondered, not for the first time, how a full-grown colonel in the United States Air Force could be such a big baby sometimes. “I need to check the swelling.”
“How the hell can you tell if it’s swollen when it’s all wrapped up like that?”
“Mostly by poking at it, sir,” she managed with a straight face.
He scowled at her in response and tried one of his diversionary tactics that all three of his teammates were on to and vary rarely worked. “What’d you find?”
Sam stayed silent until she had finished her prodding before finally laying out her plan. “There doesn’t appear to be a way out except the way we came in. No other entries and nothing much to use to get us back up to ground level. There is the wood from the floor, or ceiling in this case. I was thinking we could cut a few footholds into it and lean it up against the wall, like a ladder to the doorway above.”
His face clearly held the response she had been expecting. Total and complete disbelief. “You want to take the rotted wood that just dropped us fifteen feet onto a solid stone floor, cut even more holes into it and climb it?”
“Exactly.”
“That, Major, is NOT a good plan.”
“I agree, sir.”
“Alternatives?”
“We wait here until Daniel and Teal’c notice the radio silence and become concerned. They’ll either hike the day and a half here and work through the buildings until they find us or they take the two days to head back to the Stargate, get help and hike the two days back here and work through until they find us.” She waited patiently for the coin to drop.
“So, Carter. How are you at making ladders?”
~~ * ~~
Daniel was cold. He’d been walking through the white snow laden landscape for hours. He couldn’t remember why he wasn’t dressed for the cold or where his teammates were. He stopped for a moment, the sharp wind cutting him to the bone. He shivered and called out for Sam and Jack. Something was wrong. Something was missing. Someone was missing. He turned and suddenly knew what it was. Who it was.
Teal’c.
The Jaffa lay face down in the snow. Unmoving and slowly being covered with the fresh powder that fell. Daniel took a step towards his friend before he remembered, Teal’c was dying. He could see each drop of precious life that ebbed from him as it tinted the snow a deep crimson, creating a macabre halo of death around him. Daniel cried out to his teammate and took another step in his direction. The crack beneath his feet reached his ears the same moment he was suddenly sucked into the frigid waters below.
Daniel sat bolt upright, sputtering out water as he went. He tried to bring his hands to his face and found he could only raise them waist high. He shook his head and looked down to find heavy metal shackles circling each wrist. A solid looking chain about six inches long connected them to each other, with another chain in the middle connecting them to a metal ring in the floor. This gave him about a foot and a half to maneuver in. He’d been stripped down to only a short sleeved tee shirt and boxers that were at the moment, dripping wet. And he was cold.
He looked up to see two men watching him. One had light brown hair and eyes and was holding a dripping bucket, directing a look laced with contempt at him. The other was darker and had the bearing of a leader, strong, decisive and oddly hopeful. Daniel had no idea what these two wanted with him, but he guessed it wasn’t good. He stole a quick glance around him and found he was shackled to a stone floor in the middle of a cell with thick metal bars to keep him in. There were two guards with spears outside of the cell on top of the two in with him. He wondered if overkill meant anything to these people.
Kill. Oh, Teal’c. He assumed these were two of the men who had killed the Jaffa. They had done it with no warning and no apparent reason. Daniel would never understand the mindset of murder and he would never get over losing a dear friend to senseless violence. He could only hope Sam and Jack were someplace safe and that he could find a way out of this. Not just for his own life, although he admitted he wasn’t ready to die yet, but for Teal’c. He deserved a descent burial and his friends and family should have the chance to say goodbye, having peace in at least knowing his fate. The thought of him lying out there somewhere made Daniel sick and he felt a surge of hate for the men standing before him.
Daniel forced himself to look at them again. They had moved so they were standing directly in front of him, the lighter one practically bouncing with nervous energy. Showing anger wouldn’t really help anything and maybe Teal’c wasn’t out there, cold and alone. Maybe he was being held here in a different cell. Alive. A tiny sliver of hope showed itself and he grabbed at it desperately. He had to try to communicate, maybe this was just a misunderstanding. He pulled in a deep breath and began his ‘nice to meet you’ spiel.
“My name is Dan…”
The lighter one used all his strength to deliver a brutal backhand, crushing the inside of his cheek into his teeth and rocking Daniel nearly to the point of falling over. He could taste the sharp tang of blood filling his mouth and figured the bruise would already be visible. No misunderstanding that, talking was allowed on an ‘as requested’ basis. He noticed the darker man give the briefest of disapproving looks to the other and filed the information away.
He stayed silent, waiting to see what was expected of him. Bruiser, as he now thought of him, looked pleased with himself over the apparent ease of his submission. Chief showed no emotion one way or the other, but reached into a pouch he was carrying and drew out a small gold box. He kneeled down in front of Daniel and placed the item next to him, close enough for him to reach it while still in the chains. Eyeing the Chief, Daniel hesitantly reached for the box, pulling it onto his lap. Trying to ignore the fact that he was shaking from the cold, hoping they didn’t read it as weakness, he turned his attention to the object. It was obviously Goa’uld and had all the pretentiousness that went with it. He turned it over a few times, not sure what they wanted him to do with it. He had started reading the inscription when Bruiser became impatient, yelling at him and pointing to the box.
Daniel assumed the man was speaking in the language they had found in the abandoned city. Too bad he had no idea how to translate it. He looked back and forth between the two men, mild panic building in his chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you want.”
He heard the air whooshing just before he felt the second backhand make contact, impossibly harder than the first time. Everything blurred for a moment, the chains being the only things that kept him upright. He could feel blood trickling down his face from his nose and split bottom lip. When his vision cleared, he pulled his knees up for protection and balance and kept his eyes downcast, not wanting to provoke his captors any more than he had. Picking up the cube from where he had dropped it, Daniel held it between his knees and chest. He could do this. It was really pretty simple once he concentrated, your basic ‘to open press here and here’ kind of thing. There was a near silent popping sound when he pressed, allowing him to pull the cover off and reveal a Goa’uld healing device inside.
Please be what they want, he thought as he drew it out and held it up for them to see. Chief looked pleased and took the item from him while Bruiser puffed up, looking every inch the smug little killer he was. Teal’c died for this? So they could get their hands on a piece of Goa’uld technology they couldn’t even use? Daniel was instantly back to angry and openly glared at the two men, causing Bruiser to spout a few angry words at him and pull his hand back for another blow. Chief stepped in muttering and nodding to the cell door. Daniel thought the lighter man was going to ignore the instructions and whack him anyway when he finally backed down and headed to the doorway.
Chief gave him a long look before joining the man at the door. The two were let out, door clanging and locking solidly behind them, leaving the armed guards to watch over him. Daniel worked his arms around his bare legs and dropped his head to his knees, hoping to generate or at least conserve a little warmth. He tried not to think about Teal’c or where Jack and Sam were and if they were okay. Unfortunately that left him open to think about the two men that had just left. Somehow, he had the feeling they would be back, soon. And he wasn’t going to like it when they were.
~~ * ~~
Teal’c heard someone calling his name, urging him to wake. He didn’t want to, wasn’t ready to, but knew he must. The voice faded away as his eyes opened to find only darkness with him. Moonlight filtered through the tree limbs above as they swayed lightly in the breeze. It had been dark last time he woke and he wondered if it was still dark or dark again? It did not matter. Getting up mattered. His hands slowly climbed up his sides, feeling around his middle. His clothing was still tacky with blood, drier near the edges, freshly wetted near the wound. Teal’c closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. The pain that sliced through him was powerful, but he believed there to be slight improvement over his last attempt.
He braced himself and, with a breath stealing lunge, pushed his shoulders off the ground and pulled himself into a sitting position. A muted cry escaped from between clenched teeth. He sucked in a few gulps of air, wrestling the torment into submission. Teal’c would not bow to it any more than he would bow to a false god. Slowly, his resolve quickened and he was able to push past the agony raging in his body. His assailants had damaged well, but they had missed their objective. He felt the slight stirring of the symbiote within assuring him though the injury was grave, he would not be taken by it.
Teal’c spotted a nearby boulder that would do for his purpose. With another determined breath, he brought his knees up and dug his heels into the soft earth below, pushing back with pained tenacity. Scooting backwards this way, he traveled the distance until he was able to lean back against the outcropping. The journey had cost him dearly, but he knew to win this battle, he must stop the blood loss completely. From this vantage point, he could also clearly see the area he and Daniel Jackson had made camp and it allowed him to confirm his suspicion that the other man had been moved from this location.
After a few moments rest, he was able to bring his hand up and carefully lower the zipper on his jacket. The night temperature could reach bitter, but a blood soaked covering was hardly protection. With slow, measured movements, he managed to get the jacket and tee shirt off, using the discarded clothing to create a makeshift bandage. It was apparent their attackers were not interested in any of the items they possessed. Teal’c could see the tent still standing and their packs where they had left them. He needed to be well and he needed to find his missing friends. All of them. With no clear idea of how long he had been out, he could not be sure of O’Neill and Major Carter’s safety.
He slid his jacket back onto his lap and pulled the radio from its nest near the shoulder pad. The wires and handset had completely separated. They must have been dislodged in the assault or subsequent struggles. The useless item dropped to the ground at his side. He was on his own. Teal’c steeled himself in preparation of his next goal. Once again he slid himself backward across the terrain. It seemed an eternity before his hand inched back and bumped against the tent line. How much had changed in the span of a day that this small act would bring him such great joy.
A little more fumbling and he had found his way inside the tent, bringing relief from the burn of the cold outside. There were so many things he needed to do but only one he actually could. He allowed himself to fall back, slinging an errant sleeping bag over him for warmth. I am coming my friends, he vowed before giving himself over to the healing hands of sleep.
~~ * ~~
One billion.
“Hey, Carter! How’s it coming?”
One billion and one.
“Fine, sir.” Sam plunged the knife in again, gouging out a few more inches of wood, creating a small, hopefully foot sized, hole. Deciding it looked good, she moved a few feet down and started the process over.
“Carter!”
One billion and two.
“Yes?”
“How much longer do you think it’ll take?”
Sam fell back onto her heels, wiping an arm across her forehead, smearing dirt and sweat up into her hair. She successfully resisted the urge to scream ‘five minutes less than the last time you asked!’
“A little under an hour. Why don’t you get some rest, you’ll need your energy for the trip out of here.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he mumbled. Sam went back to her task, pointedly turning her back to the colonel. She had made it through one more foothold before one billion and three.
“Hey, Carter!”
She had never hated her name more then she did right now. “What!” she spun around unaware the knife was still in her hand until the stunned raise of her CO’s eyebrows alerted her. Oh yeah, this’ll look great in my personnel file. She closed her eyes, lowered the knife and managed, ‘I mean, what, sir?’ in a much more composed tone.
The man sheepishly held up a protein bar, softly asking, “Want a snack? You know, keep up your strength?”
“No. Thank you, sir. I’d like to get this done and get us out of here.” What she really wanted to say is, ‘to get this done and get you anyplace but stuck here with me.’ She had come to believe hell would be having to spend eternity stuck in a confined space with a bored and helpless feeling colonel. The man was amazingly adept at driving her nuts.
Sam turned back to her work. She made it about three more steps on the ladder before the colonel’s considerable restraint gave out.
“Cart..er..Sam?”
The major took a deep breath before turning to her CO. “Sir?”
“How’s it coming?”
~~ * ~~
Daniel wasn’t sure how long it had taken to doze off, but his new ‘friends’ were back way too quickly for his taste. This time it was Bruiser and a shorter, muscle bound man he dubbed Popeye on sight. They were each carrying a small gray handheld thing that resembled a curved walkie-talkie, only these had a shinny metallic tip at the end that made him more than a little nervous. They didn’t look like they were there to chat and he tensed, pulling against the cuffs as the cell door clanged open.
They wasted no time, Popeye coming up behind Daniel and Bruiser crouching down by his feet. Daniel felt the brush of metal at the back of his neck followed by a light tingling sensation. Before he could finish trying to figure out what it was supposed to do, pain exploded along his spine. It tore through each nerve ending, stealing any chance for breath as it made it way to the base of his skull. There it culminated in a burst of eye watering agony that left him flat on his back, unaware of how he got there. As a wave of nausea crashed over him, he felt the cold clamp of steel make its way around one ankle. In an instant, he found himself yanked to his feet, Popeye now holding a chain attached to the ring around his ankle, Bruiser tightly gripping the chain that was now free from the floor.
The sensation of pain had receded, leaving a faint impression of itself behind, like a lover’s whisper before you drift off to sleep. You remember the feeling it gave you if not the content. Daniel nearly laughed out loud at the inappropriateness of that particular comparison to his current situation and hoped he wasn’t losing it already. He had a feeling he was only at the beginning of his time with these people. Popeye moved behind him causing him to tense in anticipation of another jolt and making him more than a little relieved to instead feel the brush of a blindfold being tied securely around his head.
Daniel tried not to trip as he was deliberately jostled from his cell. He was completely disoriented by the time he was finally forcibly shoved to his knees, chains pulled taunt just for good measure. He heard what sounded like an unfriendly exchange going on over his head when the blindfold was suddenly pulled away, revealing Chief standing in front of him glaring at Bruiser. Daniel got the distinct impression he was the cause of the exchange but didn’t have a clue as to why.
After a few tense moments, Chief turned his attention to their captive. Daniel suddenly realized he was kneeling down next to a mat that held a very young, very unwell boy. He looked to be about twelve years old, pale and sweating with a bright red rash covering the inner part of his arm. Only semi-conscious, he was moving his head back and forth and mumbling in that unfamiliar language. Daniel had seen death before and had no question that he was staring at it now. He pulled his eyes from the dying child and looked around the room. There were several more mats with obviously ill individuals on them. There were a couple more children, two women and a man he thought had been one of his guards the first time he had woken. He looked at the Chief in question. The man reached out and took custody of the chains from Bruiser, giving him some slack as he crouched down next to Daniel.
Daniel instinctively took the healing device when Chief held it out to him. He stared at in with incomprehension until the implication finally settled in. He let his eyes close, hoping to stop time by refusing to acknowledge its existence. They think I’m a Goa’uld. These people are dying and they want me to heal them. He could suddenly hear Jack, sarcasm dripping from each syllable. ‘Well gee, Danny Boy. You read Goa’uld, speak Goa’uld, can open all their cool Goa’uld places and Goa’uld toys and travel with a Jaffa. Why on Earth, or not Earth, would they think that?’
Daniel took in a faltering breath before opening his eyes to look at the man before him. No, even Jack wouldn’t have been able to humor this one away. They were obviously clutching at a last hope. Him. With millions of words to choose from, only one worked. Bad. This was very, very bad. The desperation mixed with hope he saw lying in Chief’s eyes made sense now.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to use this.” Daniel held the object out to the man, praying he would understand. Dark eyes grew colder as he pushed Daniel’s hands back into the direction of the boy. He pointed at the child and directed the same type of angry words at Daniel had had spouted to Bruiser just a few moments before. Daniel’s breathing had quickened and he felt a coldness wash over him that had nothing to do with his lack of dress or the weather. It was a mixture of fear and helplessness that stemmed from the knowledge no one would be the winner in this. This boy and these people would most likely die, Teal’c was dead and Daniel suspected he was going to die for not being the one thing in this universe he would gladly see dead.
With one last look at the doomed child, he looked to Chief and held the healing device out to him in a surrendering, open palmed pose. “I can’t use this. I don’t know how.”
Bruiser stepped between him and Chief, pulling the device from his hands and grabbing the chains that held him away from the man. Daniel watched the exchange with bated breath, somehow knowing he should be very concerned with the outcome. After what seemed an eternity, Chief gave Daniel one lingering look, letting his eyes finally settle on the boy that lay between them. He gave an almost imperceptible nod of acquiescence that Daniel understood had sealed his fate. Instantly, he felt the blindfold fall back into place as he was hauled to his feet and dragged towards whatever destiny Bruiser had in mind. God help me, he thought, I can’t even hate them.
~~ * ~~
“Carter!”
Yes, yes, yes! This was finally the Carter she’d been waiting for. “Yes, sir?”
“How’s it coming?”
“Colonel, what would you say to getting out of here?”
“I’d say, let’s get this show on the road, Major.” He was already trying to climb to his feet with the words. Sam made it over to his side just in time to help him straighten up and test the knee out. He leaned on it cautiously at first, adding a little more weight when pain apparently didn’t come crashing in on him.
“How’s it feel?’
“Not bad. Need a hand getting this thing upright?” Jack was eyeing the ‘ladder’ skeptically. Sam wasn’t overconfident herself, but wasn’t going to let the colonel see that.
“I think I can handle it.” Sam grabbed the top of the makeshift stairway and slowly ‘climbed’ the rungs with her hands, pushing the top part up and closer to the doorway as she went. Towards the end, Jack had come up beside her to give it that extra push needed to get it against the threshold to freedom hanging tauntingly above them. They both stood back for a moment taking in the rickety means of escape.
“First or second, sir?” There was very little choice, so they may as well get this over with. The colonel seemed to weigh the options well before responding.
“Second. I may need a hand on that last bit.”
With no question, Sam grabbed hold and headed up. Wasting no time, she was half way up before she felt the first sign of danger beneath her right foot. She felt the ‘rung’ giving way just in time to pull free and put all her weight on her left side. Not the best idea. The wood gave way under her just as she landed on the other foot, the act causing the unsteady at best, ladder to sway suddenly to the left. Sam closed her eyes and tried to maintain her center of balance.
“I gotcha, Carter!” rang out from below. She felt the movement steady and glanced down to see the colonel holding the ladder in place as best he could. It wasn’t so much that it was a big drop, it was more that breaking the ladder would leave them trapped again and landing squarely on her CO’s head wasn’t high on her to do list. She carefully tested the next rung and, satisfied, continued her climb. Sam made short work of getting to the top and in no time, was pushing herself up and over the ledge onto solid ground. With a quiet sigh of relief, she turned and lay on her stomach, grabbing hold of the ladder to steady it.
“Come on up, sir. The water’s fine.”
Jack’s ascent was quite a bit slower and wrung quite a few more complaints out of the abused wood. Sam heard a few muffled curses float up as his knee was forced to work in a fashion it was not particularly comfortable with at the moment, but overall, their climb to freedom had gone unquestionably well. She grabbed the colonel’s hand as he neared the last step and pulled, leaving them both sitting in the doorway, exhausted and thrilled at the same time.
“Well that was fun. Let’s do it again sometime. How long?”
Sam looked at her watch. “About five hours.” She reached for the mike at her shoulder and hailed Daniel and Teal’c, her brow creasing in concern when she got no response. After trying twice more, the colonel suggested they clear the building completely. Sam gave him a hand getting on his feet and took a few steps away from the building before the colonel gave it a try.
“Maybe they went for help?” Sam offered. Their team lead didn’t look convinced.
“Five hours wouldn’t put them here or to the gate yet.”
She watched options play behind those brown eyes she had come to trust implicitly over the last few years. When he looked to her, she knew the words before they were spoken. “Let’s break camp and head out. Keep the load light, only the vitals. We’ve got some teammates to hunt down.”
He said the words with levity, but she heard the concern creeping through clear as day. Both were caught up in thoughts of their friends as they quickly packed and headed off to find them.
~~ * ~~
Reality settled in much more gently this time around. Teal’c could feel the air had warmed and assumed that had come along with the sunlight he could see filtering in via the tent flap. The sun would make his tasks easier to accomplish, however it also was a visual reminder of the passage of time. Time in which he did not know the fate of his friends. With that in mind, he flung the sleeping bag away from his body, clearing access to his wound.
The makeshift bandage was still tacky, but lacked the feel of fresh blood. This was good. He decided it was time to take advantage of daylight and do a visual inspection of his injury and the area surrounding where the attack had taken place. Movement succeeding in bringing pain back to the forefront, but Teal’c decided it could no longer be his master. A low rumble in the back of his throat accompanied his lift into a sitting position. It took several minutes for his muscles to stop quivering in tension and allow him to once again breathe in anything close to a normal fashion.
Teal’c found if he moved very deliberately he was able to do so without aggravating his injury. He removed the bandage and pulled over one of the packs that had been left in the tent. The surface of the wound was dark and angry looking, going from a point very near the opening of his symbiote pouch across his midsection to his side, ending near the back of his right hip. It seemed to be at least superficially beginning to close, but there was no question of internal damage and bleeding. This was one time Teal’c would have been grateful to have the aid of Doctor Fraiser. Alone, his symbiote would need several days of constant kel’no’reem to even begin to truly heal him.
He did not believe Daniel Jackson had that much time, if he was even still alive now. He checked his watch and tried to estimate the amount of time that had passed. O’Neill and Major Carter assuredly must have noticed their lack of communication by now and were either coming to help or were heading for the Stargate for assistance. Either way, he feared they would arrive too late if he were to wait for them. Pulling the pack to his side, he found both fresh bandages to dress the wound and a clean long sleeve tee shirt. Since his coat was a lost cause, the shirt was a welcome find and he pulled it on as quickly as his abused body was able. He also stowed the MREs, a canteen of water and a pocketknife in his BDUs.
Now would come the real test; getting out of the tent and onto his feet. Sliding out went considerably easier than sliding in had gone, but standing was a different story. Teal’c looked around, hoping to find something closer than the boulder to use for leverage. He spotted a solid looking tree just beyond the tent and emulated the cross terrain slide he had used the night before. Once there, he found himself out of breath and nearly incapacitated by daggers of hot pain shooting through his midsection. The Jaffa was used to having the upper hand when it came to matters of the body. His frustration mounted, almost to the point of madness at the slowness of his body’s response to command. To calm himself, he visualized tearing his assailants limb from limb when he caught up to them. Especially if Daniel Jackson was indeed dead.
The resolve of this new goal was the fuel he needed to get himself to his feet. Victorious, he stood propped against the tree for support, clutching his midsection and panting. The coolness of the light breeze whisking away the sweat of the effort made him shiver slightly and he was again grateful to have procured the minimal covering. Teal’c moved to lean his back against the coarse bark and got his first really good look at the area since his fall in battle. Not much was different than before the attack. A huge patch of dirt where he had fallen had been stained dark with his life force and he saw the unused staff weapon lying cast off nearby. The weapon would not bring him much benefit and if he were truthful, he was uncertain he could retrieve it without falling over on his face in the attempt. He looked towards the building Daniel Jackson had been exploring just before being taken. It was a lifetime away, but it had been sealed by the Goa’uld and may hold something to aid him in his search for his friend.
Teal’c knew if he was not able to search for an adequate weapon, he would not be much good to his missing teammate either. He steeled himself and very cautiously began the journey across the open area to the abandoned shelter.
~~ * ~~
He and Carter had been walking for well over half a day when they finally reached the split mark. The walk had taken longer than he had hoped due to the slower pace his abused knee dictated. So far, they had been unsuccessful at raising their two teammates via radio and had seen no sign of them. Jack could see his concern mirrored in the worry lines that were etched in his 2IC’s forehead. It was command decision time. They were at the point were they would have to choose, go forward and look for their friends alone or head back to the gate and get help.
Jack knew two things for sure: One, if Teal’c and Daniel weren’t checking in, they were in trouble. Two, if they went back now, no way was Fraiser letting him come back, no matter how minor his injury was. Delay his friends getting help by two days and be left out of a rescue attempt or get there sooner but with less able bodies? Sometimes command really bit.
Pausing for a moment to assess the options, Jack looked over to his remaining team member. There he saw the usual trust behind those shimmering blue eyes and made his decision; he would not leave this planet without ALL of his team present and accounted for. “We go on, Major.”
“Yes sir,” she replied without hesitation. He’d obviously made the right choice by her standards and he admitted it helped bolster confidence in his decision. Without so much as a water break, they continued on in the direction they hoped to find their friends in.
~~ * ~~
Shomas was trying to calm the young boy, Cal, as he fought against unseen monsters and fears. This was the youngest child of a dear friend and the first to succumb to the waking dreams of the curse. The woman, Maya, helped him soothe the boy back into sleep. Looking into the fevered face, he was reminded of his own son, blessedly uninfected in this curse cycle. The Evil had not healed Cal. If it would not, they would all die and he would never know the fate of his family. Would they die of old age surrounded by grandchildren after leading a joyful life or be taken before their time in the next wave of the curse?
Five of the six children had now fallen to the fever, as had three of the women and Vaile, his trusted neighbor of many years. Soon they would become as Cal, who Shomas believed was, at most, two moon cycles from being taken to the place beyond.
He stood and rested his hand briefly on Maya’s shoulder, entrusting her to comfort the fallen while she was still able. Powerless to resist the draw, he found his feet had brought him to the cell that contained the Evil. Shomas had been accidentally subjected to a stinger once. It had caused a blaze of unbelievable pain. It had passed quickly and had done no real damage, but headache and nausea had plagued him for several moon cycles and his muscles fought to disobey his will for nearly as long, leaving him weak and unsteady. He had no desire to repeat the experience in his lifetime.
It was said stingers had an amazing effect on the Evil. It would cause the strange reverberating voice to quiet and the unholy glow to be cast off their eyes. In this state, they became vulnerable; it was said it was the key to their victory. Shomas was not feeling very victorious now. He felt it his duty to stay while Kaid and Elden used force to gain the cooperation of the beast. They would use the stinger repeatedly until the Evil would lose consciousness, then douse it with water to bring it back, only to start the process over.
Shomas had watched intently, looking for signs of the changes promised. He saw only suffering and despair. The stinger generally stole the ability to speak from its victim, but no change in tone was heard in the small gasps and moans that came from it. He also saw no glow in the eyes, other than the strange, sky like color, and this did not change throughout the process. Though he knew the Evil did not deserve it, he found himself clenching his jaw in sympathy as the session wore on and on. After an agonizing amount of time, they were unable to wake the demon and he had called the two men from their duty. He saw in Kaid’s face that he enjoyed his task a bit too much, but he could not fault the man for carrying out what he himself had dictated.
Shomas motioned to the two guards and moved into the cell with the sleeping Evil. Although it had been nearly a moon cycle since the session had ended, it was still wet and visible shivers were coursing though it. Kneeling down by its side, he noted the broken skin around its ankle. The stories told the Evil would heal in nearly an instant and no stinger took them down for long. Both were proving to be untrue. Sensing the Evil was waking, he turned to find those peculiar eyes open and locked on him. It shrank away from him and struggled vainly to pull itself up to a sitting position. The session with Kaid and Elden had obviously seriously weakened it and he again felt another twinge of guilt for his role in its pain.
A noise of hurt came from it when trying to use the chains around its wrists to pull up. It was then Shomas noticed the fresh blood seeping from beneath the metal shackles, proving again this one did not heal as the stories told. Dark red streaks covered both hands and arms, apparently caused in the struggles for escape from the two men and their torturous intents. Without thought, he reached over to inspect the condition of the bruising on its face, halting when it flinched back at the sudden motion. Shomas stilled, leaving his hand suspended in mid air until the Evil seemed to push back its fear and tensed, waiting to see what he would do. He very cautiously continued his reach, taking hold of its chin and turning its head so he could evaluate the wounds.
Something was very, very wrong. He let his hand fall back down and looked at the being in front of him. It seemed less a monster and more a flesh and blood man like himself, a very battered and frightened one at that. The stories were true, the marked servant and the golden box that contained the magic proved that, yet this creature fit none of the lore in actions or body. He pulled his water pouch from around his neck and placed it in its hands. The Evil looked down at the bound and bleeding wrists, making Shomas realize there was no way for it to drink unless it lay back down on the cold stone floor. He retrieved the pouch and held it up, allowing it a small drink, taking it back after a short time, knowing he would be doing no favor by letting it drink itself sick.
Shomas leaned back and wondered, if they were wrong and this was not one of the Evil, what was it? It was still eyeing him with trepidation and it seemed to be having trouble staying upright due to the tremors that continued to flow through it. Making a decision, he put his hand to his own chest and said his name very clearly.
“Show moss,” the other repeated back, voice hoarse with fatigue and abuse. Shomas nodded, hoping the motion meant something to it. In turn, it put its bound hands as close to its chest as the chain would allow. “Dan-yel,” it stated clearly. Shomas repeated the strange word and got a matching head nod in return. So, it had a name. He reached into his pack and pulled the Evil magic item out, handing it to Dan-yel. At first it just stared at the item, still seemingly suffering the confusion of the stinger. Finally, it slipped the device on its hand and held it out.
Nothing happened. It took it back off and held it out to him, shaking its head no. It spoke words Shomas could not understand, but he had gotten the point, Dan-yel could work the magic no more than he could. It…HE, was not one of the Evil. Shomas knew it as certainly as he now knew his people were well and truly lost. He held the pouch out, giving him another drink and stood to leave. Changing his mind, he yelled a request to the guard and knelt back down. Removing a key from his pocket, he undid the chain that held the man to the floor, leaving the wrist restraints in place for safety’s sake. He had been convinced this had been one of the Evil and though he now believed differently, he would not endanger his people more by being wrong a second time.
The guard looked unhappy, but handed Shomas a blanket through the bars. He helped Dan-yel move away from the puddle of water he had been restrained in and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. It was small comfort for what had been done to him, but it was the best he could do for now. With that he left, knowing he would now have to go convince the same people he had told there was, that hope was no more.