Pain. There was nothing but pain. It was everywhere. It enveloped her body, her mind, her soul. It came from her very core and her only coherent thought was that there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was being split apart from the inside out and she was helpless. The pain rolled through her like the ocean at high tide, the waves crashing against her, then rolling out, but never receding, as furiously as they had come.
She was only vaguely aware of the voices and the flurry of motion that surrounded her. It seemed as though it was all happening in a world of molasses that inched slowly by, outside her pain-filled universe.
Pain stabbed at her being once more and she thought she arched her back. Did she cry out? Was that the sound of her own voice she heard? It sounded like a wail, such an anguished cry, like that of an animal howling over the death of its mate. Her heavy, pain filled limbs struck out at the air around her. The air that separated her universe of pain and the world of molasses just outside her grasp. It seemed electric and shocked her so that she thought she instantly became still again.
She had tried fighting against the pain from the minute she'd felt it, but it had been useless. It was pain such as she had never experienced. Mind numbing, soul crunching, bone jarring, thought stealing, life erasing pain.
Then, a gentle, calloused hand, butterfly soft, touched her cheek, stroking her sweat drenched skin, while another slowly began caressing her arm, and in those places, she felt no pain. What kind of balm was this? Where was it coming from. Who did those hands belong to?
In her ear, she heard a voice, soothing, and yet rough and whispery. "...be alright....promise....hang....please....need....you...please..."
Another pain slammed her body and she though she cried out again. The voice, indistinguishable, stopped, but the hand on her arm remained, then moved to clutch her hand. The hand that had been stroking her cheek moved to her forehead, where she felt it smoothing back her matted, sweat-drenched hair. As a child, or maybe in a dream, at this point she cannot remember, she used to love when her mother played with her hair. It was much longer then. Her mother would brush it for hours, humming softly, braiding corn silk.
The pain was nonstop now. In the endlessness of it all, she briefly felt as though her body were being sucked into the depths of hell or heaven, she was not sure. It was though someone had taken the stopper from a tub drain, and she was the water, being sucked into the pipes to be ferreted away to places unknown and unreachable.
Then, she was aware of being delivered from the depths, into another combination of the pain universe surrounded by electric air and molasses world. There were hands everywhere now, all over her, but the gentle hand never left hers. She thought she might be clinging to it desperately, and briefly hoped she wasn't hurting who ever the hand belonged to. The other hands rolled her, and she screamed, and a minute later...
...Nothing.
The pain began to ebb and wane, and was replaced by nothingness. Her universe of pain had disappeared and she had been sucked into the world of molasses. She felt weightless, briefly, as though she were floating or flying, and then, despite her numbness, she knew she was on solid ground again.
Where had the pain gone? Why had it stopped? The nothingness was blissful and a relief, but the pain had stopped so instantaneously. And where was the hand? She couldn't feel the hand. Where had it gone? Come back! I need you! she wanted to yell, but found her mouth unresponsive, her tongue lead.
Desperately searching for the balm that had stilled her pain in those small places, she tried to open her eyes, but met resistance. Open! she willed them. Open, dammit!
Determinedly, she thought she got her head to move to one side, She felt it roll. She had! Did it roll right off the table?
"...aaaaahmmmmm?"
She moaned and tried again to open her eyes.
The hand! There it was. Again on her forehead, smoothing back her hair. She thought she felt herself smile.
"Aaaaaaaahpeeeeeeehn yoooooooowerrrrrrrre aaaaaaaaaaayeeeees..."
It was the same voice that she had heard before, in her ear, but it was clearer this time. More insistent. More forceful. More....frightened?
"Jack." It was a strangled, raspy, choked sound, barely audible.
Had she said that? Was it her voice that had just spoken?
Jack. She remembered that name. Jack. Who.....the hand!! The hand's name was Jack. No, that wasn't right...
Hand. Arm. Shoulder. Collarbone. Throat. Neck. Chin. Lips. Nose. Cheeks. Graying hair. Searching eyes. Jack!
"Jack?" She tried again, forcing her leaden tongue to work.
"Sam?"
Jack! Jack where are you? I can't see you? Where am I? Am I dead? Why can't I feel anything. Where did the pain go?
"Samantha, open your eyes. Open your eyes for me Sam. Please." Jack. Jack's voice. Jack's voice. Voice scared. Voice tremulous. Voice strong. Jack's voice.
"Sleep..." Sleep? Who had said that? Had she said that? She must have. She was so tired. The nothingness and the pain were calling to her, begging her to give in to unconsciousness.
Another voice talked at Jack, but she couldn't understand it.
"Don't sleep, Sam," Jack insisted. "That's an order." She knew that tone. It was the tone of voice he used when he was trying to be funny so she wouldn't be scared. So he wouldn't be scared. Why was he scared?
"Jack....scared..."
"Don't be scared, Sam. I'm here. Open your eyes."
"You....scared....?"
His hand stopped tangling itself in her hair and she felt his lips brush close to her ear. If she could, she was sure she would have shivered.
"Yes Sam, I'm very scared. I need you to fight. Can you fight, please Sam. Fight hard. Open your eyes. Look at me, Samantha. Please."
Open, eyes. Jack's asking. He wants to see you. He can't see you if you don't open your eyes. Open, eyes!
There was light, and it was blinding and there was pain, quickly, and she moaned.
"Sam?"
"Jack." She forced her eyes to focus. The pain from the light slowly left, as the brightness became a blur, and the blur became shapes and colors, and the shapes and colors became a face.
"Jack," she said, tiredly, happily.
"Hi there." He smiled, big, wide, teeth baring.
"Jack."
"Yes Sam. It's me. You've gotta stay with me, ok? I need you to keep looking in my eyes, ok?"
"Order....sir?" she asked, wondering if she sounded half teasing, because that is what she'd intended.
He smiled, and she thought she saw tears in his eyes, but it could have been the light. "Yes, that's an order."
"Kay..." She murmured, her tongue feeling like a million particles of sawdust and a million balls of cotton.
She looked into his eyes, and she saw his gaze leave her face briefly and meet the eyes of someone she couldn't see. She wanted to ask what was going on, but couldn't.
"Look at me, Sam," he urged, fingers playing with her hair again.
So she looked at him. As she looked at him, through the numbness, she gasped, feeling a strange pulling sensation. She was being stretched, she was sure of it.
"Hang in there," he whispered.
Her eyes remained open, but his concerned face quickly dissolved into a million memories.
FLASH
--I will always be there for you, no matter what. Believe me. Go save your ass.
FLASH
--I just wanted to say when you were lying there I--I'm really glad you're okay.
--C'mere
Pressure. So much pressure. Empty. Pressure and empty. Pulling. Stretching. Pulling and stretching. Pressure and empty and pulling and stretching.
FLASH
--You made it through. You're gonna be all right.
"Stay with me, Sam."
FLASH
--Sir, at your house before Daniel and Teal'c showed up, what I was gonna say was ...
--I know.
Jack. Jack's eyes. Tears. Noise. Distant sound. Far off crying?
FLASH
--Don't you dare leave us now. We won. Please, Jack.
"Sam, no! Sam? Don't do this Sam, stay with me....Sam!"
"Sorry...sir...Jack....sleep..."
The last thing she heard before the nothingness completely overtook her was the sound of distant crying. The last thing felt was Jack's lips against her temple. A moment later...
...Nothing.