Keeping it Together
By Mickey
Status: Completed 06/14/2009
Season: 1
Archive Permission: Ask first.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
Word Count: 1,182
Author's Notes: Written for the stargatedrabbles list's June 6th whump week challenge, Day 1 - Mental whump. Many thanks to Annie and Cheryl for beta'ing and to Cheryl for the title.
Jack groaned as the white-hot tip of the knife was once again pulled away after stilling its downward thrust just a hair's breath away from his eye. This game was getting old very fast. Glancing to his left, he saw his team relax slightly in relief as well. He knew this mental torture was being done to rattle them as much as it was to rattle him.
The team had been separated, although they were all in the same large room. Jack was stretched out on a stone table, his arms and legs bound tightly to metal rings in the tabletop. Teal'c, Carter, and Daniel had been put in separate cells. They could all see Jack, but not each other. Jack, if he strained his neck and rested his chin on his chest, could see all three of them.
"Jack," Daniel said, his voice almost breaking as he pleaded.
Jack pinned him with a glare. "Not a word, Daniel!"
"But, Jack, just let me-"
Cutting him off, Jack barked, "Not. A. Word!"
Seemingly out of nowhere, a fist flew at Jack's face, connecting solidly with his cheek. His head rolled to the left with the vicious blow.
Loud arguing was heard in the native language of their captors and all heads turned in the direction of the commotion. Jack craned his neck in time to see the man who hit him leave the room angrily.
"You will have to excuse Jadd'el," his torturer whispered in Jack's ear. "He is stuck in the old ways and thrives on violence. He is still young though, he will learn to adapt."
The smile on the older man's face was not encouraging. Nor did it lessen the tension Jack felt. He was sure it wasn't any better for the others. He was also acutely aware that, while he understood Frole's torture was purely mental, his teammates didn't. They really believed that he would be harmed at some point. This game Frole was playing was more for their benefit than his. The old man knew the charade wouldn't work on Jack. As much as they differed, they were too much alike in some respects. Which, of course, was why Jack was now being gagged.
Voice still low, Frole wrapped a piece of cloth tightly around Jack's mouth as he spoke. "You know I have no intention of harming you -that is no longer our way- but I cannot have you telling them that. If they truly believe that you will be injured, they will talk."
Jack glared at him defiantly, challenging the old man's assessment with his eyes.
"The young man -Daniel you called him, he will likely be the first to speak. He knows of my people's violent history. We were a war-loving people for many generations. He will tell me what I wish to know."
Still, Jack said nothing, simply glaring at the old man. Carter's look of disgust told him that she had caught onto the game as well. She opened her mouth then snapped it shut as he threw her a look. Then he looked towards Teal'c. He'd been so focused on Daniel that he hadn't really looked at Teal'c since they'd been imprisoned. He realized that his Jaffa teammate wasn't buying the charade either and had most likely picked up on the ruse from the beginning.
The cloth secured, the old man leaned close to Jack's ear. "While I will not harm you, I have no problem keeping all four of you as my prisoners for as long as you live. Perhaps I should play my little game with the woman?"
Seemingly gauging Jack's reaction, Frole paused and looked into his eyes. Jack's eyes narrowed, but he gave no other indication of just how much that statement pissed him off.
"No, not the woman. She is a warrior as well, is she not? Yes," Frole replied, answering his own question, "Yes, she is. She will not break so easily either. The dark skinned man is a warrior of the old Gods; he will certainly not break. The young man, however, he is a scholar, not a warrior. Perhaps," Frole paused for a moment, "perhaps I should play with the young man."
That got the desired reaction. Jack struggled against the ropes that held him securely to the table. Son-of-a-bitch! He knew that Frole wouldn't hurt his friend, but Daniel didn't know that. Over the past several months, Jack had learned that Daniel was a lot stronger, physically and mentally, than Frole -or most people for that matter- gave him credit for but the old man was right, Daniel was not a soldier. Eventually, his friend would break. There was no way in hell he was going to put Daniel through that. The rope bit into his wrists as he struggled to no avail, he was bound too tightly.
Frole walked towards Daniel's cell. As he stopped in front of bars, he spoke. "What do you say, young man? Would you like to change places with your friend?"
Reflexively, Daniel took a step back. Jack took enormous pride, however, in the fact that his friend didn't flinch. Instead, he glared at his would be tormenter, never once averting his eyes from the older man. Glancing around, Jack noticed Carter's eyes narrow slightly -although he was sure Frole didn't pick up on it-, but she gave no other outward indication that the old man's actions bothered her. Teal'c's demeanor was stoic as ever, betraying an inner rage he could see brewing in his friend's eyes.
Jack growled around his gag.
Frole turned his attention back to his victim. He picked up what looked, to Jack, like a cattle prod. As he struck the edge of the table near Jack's head, it sparked. Instinctively, Jack jerked his head away as far as his bonds would allow. His tormentor repeated the action several times, always striking the table close to his head, letting the sparks hit Jack's face. The sparks stung, but weren't very painful. He was almost positive they wouldn't leave a mark.
A commotion in the hall caught everyone's attention and Frole stopped what he was doing. Jack watched as the old man set the cattle prod thingy down on the table, but the restraints holding him down prevented him from seeing anything else.
Suddenly, the door slammed open with a loud bang. Jack sighed in relief as Ferretti, followed by the rest of SG-7, stormed into the room with SG-3, led by Colonel Makepeace close behind.
As Ferretti pulled the gag from his mouth, Jack coughed then looked at him and exclaimed, "It's about damn time!" then he rested his head back against the table, relief flooding through him. He stayed still as Ferretti and Reed cut the ropes that restrained him, watching as Makepeace's marines released his team.
"I see you've gotten yourself into a bind yet again, Jack. Good thing my marines and I were around to rescue your ass," Makepeace gloated as Jack rubbed his raw wrists.
Completely ignoring the jarhead, Jack addressed his now free team, "SG-1, let's go home."
THE END
