Title: Cleanse
Author: The Last
Rating: PG-13/T
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Nudity
Summary: Can you wash away the scent of madness? ((OneShot))
Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate SG-1; that pleasure belongs to MGM and whoever else has a share in it.
Author's Note: As the authoress, I'm going to probably be the only one who understands the background. If you're confused, ask and I'll tell you. Because having a summary here would spoil it.
Here's to my opening Stargate piece!
''' Cleanse '''
Step forward, into the tiled basin.
Reach one hand out, grasping the cool knob and pulling.
Water gushes out, pouring over unblinking eyes, sliding down pale skin, dripping onto the white floor.
Can you wash away the smell of death- of madness?
Fingers wrap round the scrunge, dragging ruffles of clear plastic- a washcloth.
Bend down.
Pump soap into its hold.
Straighten.
Rub it over wet skin, leaving a soapy, foamy trail behind.
Is it possible? Has someone scrubbed that sterile scent off their soul- the padded walls out of their minds?
Arms. Past the elbow. Switch hands.
Breasts.
Stomach.
More soap slathered on.
Her body did it on it's own, automatic, routine motions flowing, for the most part, smoothly.
Legs, from the feet up.
Back.
Lt it slide from the limp hand.
Head tilts back.
Clear water patters over the numb body.
She doesn't know. Doesn't think as her hands take the shampoo bottle down, flipping the lid open.
Squeeze it into a cupped palm.
Dig short fingernails into the roots of blonde hair, into the scalp.
Lather.
Rinse.
Do not repeat.
But she can try, as distant as her mind is now, as hard as it is to move willingly. As hard as it is to make this robot like body stop the tears tumbling mutely out… to stop the vaguest thought of 'did they ever come back? did they ever try to find me?'
Stand under the metal spigot.
Let the water splash onto a cheek, trickle down into a half open mouth, fall out again.
Footsteps.
"Carter?" A faint shout.
That was her name once. Before the insanity permeated her skin, her mind.
Had she washed it off yet?
"Carter?" Jack stood in the doorway, not even doing a double-take at the sight of her naked- his eyes were on hers.
"Oh God, Sam, what'd they do to you?" Even as he came in, one of his hands grabbed a towel and he held it, wrapped it around the unresponsive body of his Major, wrapped his arms around her soaking body as the water continued to fall.
She turned a sightless gaze up, towards the source of the droplets, oblivious to his words.
And the water filled her mouth until her knees buckled and he half fell, still holding her.
He was calling her name, yelling for help, cursing at someone named McKenzie as long blonde hair spilled over his arms, as she lay limp in them…
…like a doll…
…only that her chest rose and fell with each breath…
…that behind those empty blue eyes a hint of self flickered…
…and the water never stopped falling.
the end