Alternate Universe story where Jack didn't escape from Ba'al's fortress after his blending with the Tok'ra Kanan. He finally escapes nearly two years later and downloads the repository of the Ancients into his brain again to defend Earth from Anubis' attack. But after two years of being tortured to death does he have the strength and sanity to save Earth?
Not a ship fic, but general friendship. May lean toward JackSam but nothing more than in the series.
Climbing the Abyss
Chapter 1
His heart pounded in his chest, dulling his other senses until he felt nothing, heard nothing, but the powerful accelerated thumping in his chest and the echoing muffled beat of the blood rushing though his ears. The edges of his vision blackened as his need for oxygen exceeded his heart's ability to deliver it. He stumbled, fell to the ground and wanted nothing more than to lay down right there amid the dirt and bugs and go to sleep. Or even die. Anything to stop the pain forever. But he had a mission now and he couldn't fail.
He picked himself up, ignoring the sharp twig that jutted through his hand like a giant thorn. He put one tired foot in front of the other and resumed his mad dash, heart and determination alone keeping him going. And fear.
Even his adrenaline had given up on him about a kilometer back, but still he ran, knowing exactly where to go but not sure what he'd find, what he'd encounter, who'd be waiting for him. Maybe he could take them by surprise. All he really knew was he had to get back and warn them. This was the only chance he'd get.
He fell again, tripping over a felled tree trunk, his feet tangled in the moss and fern. Angrily he lashed out at the vegetation, pulling it by the root and throwing it aside before climbing back to his feet and allowing his anger and frustration to fuel his energy, to give him the strength he needed. He was finally fighting back.
At the back of his mind he wondered if he'd make it in time, if this would all be worth it. The more logical part of his brain didn't really care. At least it would finally be over, no more temptation, he could end it. But first, he had to do all he could to stop them. He owed it to himself to try, to make a difference, to go down fighting. They had taken the fight out of him and he wanted it back.
He stumbled abruptly into a clearing and brought himself up short. Zero points for stealth. Luckily there was nobody in sight.
They had left the Stargate unguarded, and why not? After all, they had the second largest fleet in the galaxy. He quickly scanned the area for traps but he wasn't thinking clearly enough to have noticed anything. He ran over to the DHD and stared at it, frantically trying to recall the symbols he had seen. He braced himself with both hands and closed his eyes to concentrate.
The familiar thrum and screams of the goa'uld death gliders rang in his ears and controlled panic took over. He had to go now. Guess there was still a little adrenaline in there after all. He pounded on the DHD, the correct symbols appearing in the corner of his mind that still retained some semblance of the military officer he had once been. He pressed his trembling hand against the center jewel and the Stargate sprang to life.
The ground erupted around him as the death gliders discovered his location, zeroing in on him. Dirt and debris sprayed up into his face as the aftershock knocked him off his feet. He scrambled for the open wormhole on all fours, knowing this was his only chance. Fire rained down around him as he half ran, half crawled to the 'Gate. The last few steps, and he was going to make it. He put on a burst of speed, the last of his strength, and dove through the 'Gate seconds before the ground behind him was obliterated.
He tumbled out the other side gracelessly, tucking into a shoulder roll to absorb some of the impact. A spray of dirt followed through after him then abruptly the wormhole disengaged. The dust settled, and there was silence.
He lay sprawled out on a stone dais, partially on the stairway leading down from the Stargate, a blanket of dirt and twigs and pebbles upon him. He lay there motionless, his chest heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. His limbs refused to move otherwise.
It took several minutes but he was finally able to lift his head, open his eyes, and look around. Miles of grassland. Tall grass, waist high. From his position he couldn't see any recent trails, but you can only see so much when your head is inches from the ground. There were small copses of trees scattered across the landscape and in the distance, visible by its sheer height, was a statue, a building, an ancient ruin, whatever. That would be his best shot.
Slowly he braced his arms beneath him and pushed up, lifting his bruised, battered, and beaten body from the smooth, cool stones. Without thinking, focused only on his target, he limped heavily and unsteadily towards the ruins. Somehow he made the trek, a little over a kilometer he guessed, and leaned against the walls, his hands pulling strength from the cool stones as he worked his way along, searching. It had to be here, this was the only structure that could…
Crap, what the…Okay, get a grip.
From the previously unmarred wall a circular structure with a dark round viewer emerged, springing out at him from nowhere. It was a familiar sight, he'd seen one before, years ago. It had nearly killed him.
Anubis was coming. He knew it, that's how he had found out about the planet and the Ancient repository of knowledge. The headsucker. He couldn't let Anubis have this knowledge, it was too powerful, too dangerous in the wrong hands. But he didn't have anything to destroy it, no explosives, no computers to download it, no bulldozers to level it. Just his tattered self.
And given his current mental state he wasn't really the best candidate to have the entire library of an ancient and powerful race downloaded into his noggin. But there was no other way.
With great remorse and sadness he put his hands on either side of the viewer and peered into it, resigned to his fate as metal arms sprang out and clasped his head in place. He didn't struggle. Moments later, before the arms released him and he crashed to the floor unconscious, he hoped that he still had enough good within him not to abuse the power.
He awoke several minutes later, disoriented, expecting to find himself in an eight-by-eight cell, or a coffin size box with bright white lights, or strapped down to a metal slab by artificial gravity or…
Oh, right, he had escaped. After two years of not escaping who would expect a burnt-out pet human like him to actually make a break for it? Ba'al sure hadn't. Neither had Anubis.
So now here he was with a cranium full of Ancient knowledge, a chest full of holes, a heart full of…nothing. And no soul.
He pulled himself to his feet for the bazillionth time. Pick yourself up, right? Dust yourself off. Start all over again.
Little late for that. He wasn't there to start anything.
He was there to finish it.
To be continued
I have the next five chapters written, but if you have any suggestions I'm always open to rewrites.