Speechless
Summary: "I still don't know the answer. And it scares me." What really happened to Sam in In The Line of Duty?
Very mild S/J.
Speechless, you shall speak my name. Must you speak? Why then again, in speaking you shall say the same.
....
I still don't know the answer. And it scares me.
Every now and then he'll ask. Never straight out, never quite clearly, but I always know what he is asking. Why he's asking.
It's been nearly eight years since I was host to Jolinar of Malkshur. Nearly eight years, and I still don't think I will ever get over that feeling. I'd never been lost inside myself like that before. I'd never felt so incredibly helpless, so vulnerable. And it scared me more than I knew I could have been scared.
And even after all that we have been through with them, side by side, like equals, that memory of pure fear has never gone away. There's nothing like looking your father in the eyes and wondering deep down in the back of your head whether he is suffering, whether he is as scared as you.
It's a silly feeling, really. They have proven themselves time and time again, I have shared things with them I had never imagined I would share, my own father among them, but still. There's a fear I can't quite quench. A question I will never know the answer to.
He asked me again this morning. Not with words, like he had that one time, but with his eyes like he had every time since.
"Was it you or was it Jolinar?"
I had always pretended not to understand why he asked. Why it bothered him so much. But I knew why. Deep down I always knew why. If the same had happened to him, I would have wanted to know. Needed to know. Was it him calling out to me by name, begging me to help him? Or was it the demon inside him, torturing him and me with the question.
I never really stopped pretending that I didn't know why. Not knowing that he cared about me too much to be able to live with himself if he had done the wrong thing was much easier than knowing why the question tortured him. Not knowing that he cared was easier than dealing with my own feelings.
But that wasn't why I never told him.
When those words had come out of my mouth, I felt a palate of feelings I had never felt before in such fast succession. Relief, such immense relief and then a harsh fear, a loathing and a helplessness that crippled me.
After all these years, I still don't know. Was it me who shouted out to him, or was it Jolinar?
I could feel the words entering my head, and like I had done for what seemed like a million hours, I tried to shout them. And for once the words came out of my mouth.
"Please, Jack, no Jack, please, don't leave me!"
It was such a relief, such a release that I cried for joy. But nothing came out. I couldn't control my mouth, my body again. And I was trapped in fear once more, inside myself, feeling my body and mouth move, but being completely detached from my own faculties. And then I began to wonder. Had I ever spoken in the first place? The words had entered my mind like every other word I had thought. But my mind was an open book to her now. There was nothing I thought that she couldn't hear, that she couldn't exploit. And I suddenly felt very vulnerable again, after my short burst of relief. Had I even said it? Had I even opened my mouth to speak? Or had it been her, Jolinar, hearing my thoughts and choosing to speak them?
I didn't know and eight years later I still don't know. And though she's dead, though the Tok'ra have proved themselves a hundred times over, it still scares me.
Was it me, crying out, speaking his name? Or was it Jolinar, using me, using those feelings I hadn't even known I'd had?
I guess I will never know. Neither will he.
And it will never stop scaring me.
