Close your Eyes
Darkness swept across the room, engulfing everything in its path, wrapping itself around the lone occupant of the room, claiming the silent figure for its own. The man battled in his sleep, movements betraying a level of emotion that would never have been displayed had he been awake. His hands clawed the air and then his face, as though he could rip away his features and the horrors he witnessed when he looked in the mirror. Sleep was no escape, even when the darkness descended; it was only a precursor to the blinding, devilish light which would inevitably follow. Suddenly, a single beam of light cut through the darkness like a knife, illuminating a pale figure, standing in the doorway, a frown marring her perfect features. As she watched the struggling individual in the gurney, her face contorted; a mask of pain to mirror his. Safely hidden from the eyes of others by the embracing darkness, she moved towards his prone figure, a single glimmer of radiance in the gloom of his surroundings. In his sleep, he instinctively sensed the approach of the light and, flinching, covered his haggard features.
"Please, just leave me, I can't tell you anything." His voice was so small, so lost; she could hardly recognise it as belonging to the man she had known for six years.
She recoiled from that voice, an embodiment of everything he had gone through, unspeakable horrors which she could never begin to understand. Slowly, she reached out a tentative hand to place on his bedside, attempting to transfer strength to him. Without warning, she found herself in a vice like grip, a steely hand wrapped around her throat. She tried to call out, to reach out to him in his semi-conscious state but it was useless. His eyes rolled in his head, every muscle in his body stretched taught. His breath rasped in her ear, hot breath, coming too quickly. She knew that she could flip him, that she may even be able to over power him but there was too great a risk involved, especially when he was not fully aware of his surroundings. He could snap her neck before she had the chance to move a muscle. Yes, she understood his dark side, had seen its vicious head rise above his carefully schooled demeanour on several occasions. Now, all of that fury was channelled in one direction; hers.
"Daniel?" the voice at her ear whispered. Over the deafening noise of her own ragged breath and pounding heart, she was not ever sure that she had heard it but the pressure around her throat began to ease and she used the opportunity to slip away from him.
"Carter?" his voice was hoarse as he brought his shuddering hands to eye level, gaping at them in horror as though they had been drenched in blood. His quivering legs betrayed him and he sank gracelessly to the floor.
"Sir, it's me," she whispered, lowering herself to his level. "I'm sorry that I startled you sir, I just wanted to see how you were doing."
He continued to stare at her in horror, his gaze raking over her features until he noticed the red welt across her neck, a perfect match for his long fingers. He recoiled from her, shuffling backwards, dragging himself with those same hands.
"Sir, it's ok, I'm ok." She quickly reassured him, though she could not keep the quiver from her own voice.
With tentative fingers, he reached out to trace the line of his grip on her pale neck. She closed her eyes, her breath coming in shallower gasps as her body reacted to his presence, his touch, even in this situation.
"I'm so sorry Carter, I thought...." He left the sentence unfinished but the truth crackled in the air between them. Sam knew what he was trying to say: he thought that she was one of the jaffa, coming to take him back to Ba'al's torture chamber. The briefing had been scant in details but Janet's silent horror as she stood looking at his test results confirmed all of their worst fears. They knew that he had been placed repeatedly in the sarcophagus and that he was currently suffering withdrawal effects from that alien technology. Up until this moment, however, Sam had refused to admit the full import of that piece of information. Not only had he been tortured to death, but he had been brought back, time and time again, to suffer the same fate, his soul being slowly eaten away by the evil that the sarcophagus contained. That he was here, coherent and speaking to her, was a miracle beyond her comprehension but they all knew that his road to recovery would be prolonged. She, Teal'c and Jonas had been visiting the infirmary during the day to speak with him and, when they were all around, he was the old Jack O'Neill, but here, in the night, Sam could see the truth. The depths of the darkness in her commanding officer had once terrified her. The first time it had emerged, she was not sure that she had ever known the man who stood beside her: cold, calculating and utterly ruthless. His eyes, usually a warm chocolate brown, were steely and told nothing of the man within, locked away, emotions warring behind closed features.
His eyes now were no longer cold and calculating, but there was a depth of horror in them which would haunt Sam for the rest of her life.
"I know sir. It's my fault for disturbing you. Do you want to get up?" She asked, rising and offering her arm out to him. After a moment's hesitation, he grasped her arm tightly, hauling himself up from the cold floor.
"Thanks Carter." He paused, as though suddenly realising that his second in command had come into his infirmary room, alone, in the middle of the night. When he raised his eyes to meet hers, she saw caution playing across his features. This was one of the lines that should not be crossed, she knew that. She was not supposed to come on her own, only with the rest of the team. An air force Major visiting her commanding officer with the rest of the team: professional, clinical, detached. Three words which perfectly described their outward appearance but spoke nothing of the other, more personal feelings, locked deep within their souls.
"Whatcha doing here, in the middle of the night Carter? Not got any doohickeys to be playing with?" He teased, his forced smile never reaching his eyes.
"Well, I couldn't sleep sir and I was just walking about and I ended up walking, here...." She smiled sheepishly, knowing that her excuse was as transparent to him as it was to her.
"Yasureyabetcha", he replied, retreating from the challenge of questioning her motives. He was a coward; but then, so was she, or she would be doing much more for him that standing in a corner, watching him as his nightmares tore him apart night after night.
"Well, Carter, if you don't mind, I might get some more shut eye. You should too. Hammond was telling me you've all been working yourself to the bone the last few weeks."
"Yes sir, we couldn't......." His sharp look stopped her short, mid sentence. No, she was not allowed to approach the darkness. She edged away from the abyss and forced a smile instead. She had crossed too far already, the lines which separated them already faint and indistinguishable.
"Yes sir, sorry to have disturbed you." She began retreating towards the door and to the small shaft of light which illuminated the doorway. As she reached it, her features once again bathed in blinding light, she stopped, turning once to assure herself that he was, in fact there, that they had brought him home. Not safe, no not safe, but home.
"Sam?" she head the whisper float across the chasm which separated them. "Thanks."
The rustle of the bed sheets echoed in the empty room as he turned his back on her, hiding from her the shame, the terror and the urgent need for comfort that he would not, could not allow her to see. This was his nightmare to struggle through, not hers. He could not allow her to know the depths of the horrors he had been subjected to and, most of all, could not bear for her to see the way he had broken under that pressure. How he had begged Ba'al to kill him, once and for all. How he had begged Daniel; not for enlightenment, no, that was Daniel's thing; he had pleaded for death, to leave this cold, dark world behind. How could she possibly understand that? How could he ask her to? How could he ask anyone to? Daniel had said that he was going to be ok and he was determined that he would be, that the snake head would not win this battle of wills. But ask someone to help him through that? No, he couldn't do that, especially not to Sam.
"You're welcome....Jack," she whispered into the darkness, knowing that he had shut himself away from her and that her words would not reach him now. She knew that he had turned from her and that he would not turn back. Even so, she would be there for him. No matter where he travelled on his dark journey, she would follow him, ready to support him in any way possible. Even if the only way she could do that was to follow his orders, to pretend that none of this had ever happened. That her Colonel was the same as he had always been, his daily facade hiding the scars which now covered his soul.