Title: The Redemption of George Hammond

Chapter 14

Author: Selmak

Introduction: The SG1 team is captured by Goa'uld when they exit the gate at the Beta Site. To their confusion, George Hammond greets them wearing the uniform of the First Prime of Selmak.

Rating: MA – Non-Con Sex. Violence. Cursing. Not a Happy Piece o' Fiction. Very Dark fic. This in particular is a very short, exceedingly dark chapter.

Pairings: Yes Several M/F/S (Male FemaleSymbiote) – but not who'd you expect more than likely.

We continue with our story with Samantha Carter and George having a rather overdue conversation, and Samantha having decided to kill George.

She took it from him, stared at it for a bit, weighing the possible consequences. Then Samantha pulled the silver collar apart and carefully put it around his beefy neck. It closed with an audible click and then it hummed when it activated. It then stopped humming, and George rubbed it with one thick finger.

"To reset it, you give the command to kill me, and then say Ne Tao qua," he explained.

After nodding her head that she understood, she got up from the chair and then turned toward the hallway. She walked slowly away, and then when she reached the hallway, she turned around to face Hammond who making himself comfortable on the couch.

"George?" Samantha called sweetly.

"Yes?" George answered warily, not trusting her.

"See you in hell, you fucking bastard. TAO QUA!"

Samantha turned away from George and she was greeted with a hard slap to her face. To her surprise, it was the rather diminutive Janet Fraiser who had attacked her. The little spitfire had almost succeeded in knocking Samantha ass over tit.

"What are you doing?" Janet shrieked, her voice cracking from her emotional stress and her extreme anxiety. "He's the only person that can keep our children safe right now. I don't care if you don't want your children, but I refuse to let them murder Malcolm."

"Do you have any idea how they might do it? Will they knife him? Will they put rat poisoning in his bottle and give it to him with a fake smile when he's hungry? I will not let anything happened to Malcolm, not after I lost Cassie. Goddamn you, Samantha. Think of someone besides yourself for once!" Janet screamed.

Janet raised her hand again to slap her again, but George Hammond, who was still being strangled by his Collar, grabbed Janet's hand easily and prevented the blow from landing.

"No tao qua," Samantha whispered, and George began gasping for breath when the collar began to loosen.

"Janet, it was…a test… ok? She wanted to make… sure that … the collar worked, ok? She wasn't trying to kill me," George gasped.

"It didn't look that way to me," Janet protested. She rubbed her head after she yanked her hand free from George's grasp.

"It didn't look that way to me. She wanted to kill you, George. You're the only one that is going to keep Malcolm alive what with Jacob and Selmak … being… ill. If anything happens to you, they'll come after Malcolm. You know they will. You've got to hold it together, George. If they know Jake's not sane… they'll come after Malcolm… they'll hurt my baby, George…I can't lose them, not after Cassie. Not after everything else. I can't lose anyone else!"

Janet broke into body wracking sobs, her obvious fear for her children physically painful to Samantha. Sam reached for her friend to offer her some sort of comfort, but to Samantha's surprise, George got there first. George hugged the small woman carefully.

"Easy… Janet… you're exhausted. Samantha would never let anything happen to Malcolm. She loves Malcolm…," George reminded Janet. His voice was hoarse as though he had a bad cold. He looked at Samantha and motioned for her to chime in with a reassuring comment.

"I love Malcolm, Janet, I do. I wouldn't let anyone hurt him," Samantha agreed. "Or the baby you're having."

Janet was still sobbing uncontrollably, and George kept rubbing her back.

"You should be in bed, Janet. Sleeping. I'm sorry you got so upset seeing Samantha testing the collar. We thought it would be best to do it in private. I had no doubts that Samantha would issue the reset command," George assured Janet.

His blue eye looked at Samantha and there was a grimace of a smile on his face; the facial contortion letting Samantha know that he was lying. George Hammond knew perfectly well that he'd be dead if Janet hadn't interceded, and wonders of wonders, he accepted that fact easily and without protest.

"I'm wearing the collar so Samantha can feel safe around me, Janet. You know Samantha has concerns, and they are justifiable concerns about me and my not very firm grasp on my sanity. I really hurt her, and there's nothing I can ever do to take that moment of utter madness back, you know that's true, Janet," George's voice was honey smooth as he reassured Janet.

"I saw her face, George, she wanted you dead," Janet sobbed. "She did. She wanted you dead."

"Shhh… Shhh… Janet…Of course, she wants me dead. But Samantha is a very pragmatic soul. She may want me to rot with the fishes, but she knows that if I'm dead, there's no one that will be able to keep the children safe. Chekov's not in the chain of command, Jacob and I removed him from the chain of command when his drinking got out of control. I think he's proven his loyalty and his sobriety in spades tonight, so I will bring him back into the chain," George assured the diminutive doctor.

"Now today is going to be a very long day," George reminded Janet. His voice was quite hoarse still, but he was making an obvious effort to project a soothing, reassuring tone to the emotionally exhausted woman. "You need to sleep. Your baby needs you to sleep. Is there anything you can take to help you sleep that won't adversely affect your baby?"

"Maybe Benadryl," Janet answered after a brief pause.

"Do you think Samantha might need something? I think she's been through a great deal of stress and she needs to get a good night's sleep also," suggested George.

Janet nodded her head, and then George released her from the hug.

"Tomorrow, Today… whatever day this might be, I want you to check my levels. I think I'm the mentally clearest I've been in some time," the Pro Term leader of New Earth assured Janet. "Perhaps Jacob using the hand device on me was in fact, the smartest thing he's done."

"ECT…." Janet commented hopefully. Her voice held the slightest tinge of hope. She turned to face Samantha, "Electroconvulsive therapy was used to treat depression…Sometimes there was dramatic improvement with people who had major depression with psychosis. Maybe, if his levels are increasing, maybe I can find a way to help your father, Samantha. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

Her friend was pleading for reassurance and so Samantha agreed that it would be absolutely wonderful if her crazy father and his symbiote could be helped.

"Janet," George drawled in a rather hoarse Southern Comfort voice, before he put his hands on her shoulders, and turned her toward her bedroom. "Go get the Benadryl, get enough for you and for Samantha so you two ladies can get some sleep."

"But you're still bleeding," Janet protested.

The doctor motioned to George's side, and the sticky dark red stain of congealing, drying blood.

"Nope, I'm not," George contradicted. "It's an old wound that you've already treated. I just haven't changed my shirt. Janet, you're tired and you need to sleep. Now go."

He gently pushed her toward the bedroom, and Janet stumbled wearily towards it. Samantha tried to escape from George's presence but he put one arm in front of her. She backed up, found herself trapped in a corner with no escape and she began shaking.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Samantha," George promised.

"Been there, done that, got the T-shirt," Samantha reminded him. Grabbing her courage, she pushed his arm away and began walking toward him. To her delight, George backed up, and soon found himself against the opposite wall of the hallway.

Aha. Hammond, not so brave are we?

"Plus the broken ribs, the broken orbital, and my personal favorite... that one very special night we had together, where you called me a whore and worse, George." Samantha spat.

"If there was any way I could take back that, I would. No matter what the costs. I've told you that, and for very good reasons, you don't believe my sincerity," George insisted softly.

"It's not your sincerity, Hammond, it's your goddamn sanity that I don't believe in," Samantha spat, the acid in her voice caustic enough to burn the strongest metal like a hot knife through soft butter. "How many personalities do you have in that bald head of yours? How many more do I get the pleasure of meeting and greeting in my bed?"

She had her hand on the 'zat, and she was ready to scream the words that would kill George then and there.

"None of them will be in your bed, Samantha," the man who wore Hammond's face stated. "I turned what was supposed to be an act of love between two people into a mindless act of animal rage…"

She slapped him then, and the impact knocked his head against the wall. To her surprise, her solid blow seemed not to affect him in the slightest.

"Mindless act of animal rage?" Samantha wanted to scream that pithy phrase at him, but instead, her voice broke and she nearly sobbed. Mindless act of animal rage? That did not adequately sum up the physical and emotional horrors that she had endured, and would continue to endure, world without end.

Samantha slapped him again, harder, and for a wonder he took it.

"Mindless act of animal rage? You knew perfectly damn well what you were doing to me, because you deliberately and intentionally attempted to destroy me. Say it, Hammond, admit that you raped me. Not one of those other personalities in your bald head, but you, my former CO, the man I once trusted more than anyone else in the world."

"I raped you," he whispered. "And I have caused you unbearable physical and emotional pain by my actions, and there is no way I can ever make amends to you."

"I trusted you," she spat. "I trusted you, and you turned on me, like a rabid dog."

Again she slapped him, and once more Hammond didn't move. The right side of his face was red and swollen from the repeated impact of her hand, and the bright mark's redness matched some of more recent scars on the ravaged left side of his face.

"If you really want to cause me physical pain, Samantha, you should hit me where my eye patch is," George informed her dryly. "I'm sure that it will be excruciatingly painful."

"Physical pain? Physical pain? I want you to experience completely the emotional hell you put me through. I can't sleep at night because I feel your weight on top of me, screaming like a mad man about my alleged betrayal while you punch the hell out of me. You called me a whore, Hammond. You told me…" Samantha paused, as she couldn't continue.

Repeating Hammond's hate filled, insane tirade was just too much for her raw nerves right now, so she stopped, trying to compose herself.

She would NOT fall apart in front of the monster.

Never.

Ever.

Again.

"I remember what I did, what I said, all too clearly, these days," Hammond protested. "You need to remind constantly of what I did, so I will be unable to justify what I did as an act of madness. There is no excuse for what I did to you and what I have done to others."

"Oh good, you remember. I'm so glad both of us remember what happened, now maybe you'll have my nightmares for me," she spat. "Or do you expect me to just forgive and forget George, now that you've repeatedly apologized for being such a bad little boy? Do you want me to take you to bed, George? So we can kiss and make up?"

She hit him again, and he uttered not a sound. George was just looking at her, with that one, lone blue eye. His broad shoulders pulled straight and he was standing ramrod straight as though he was standing at attention.

"No, I am dammed, Samantha. There is no redemption for someone like me," George stated quietly.

"Oh poor little you, you're one of the damned, George," Samantha bitterly retorted. "Too bad, so sad."

"I am damned beyond all hopes of redemption, Samantha. I'm not the man that once longed for a few stolen minutes of peace in your arms, Samantha. God has turned his face away from me and from your father. I am truly dammed, and when I die, I will be in the seventh circle of hell, screaming for them to rain fire upon me. I have watched my children's last breaths while they were murdered, heard my granddaughters scream for me to save them, and I rained nuclear fire down to scorch Earth to prevent the Goa'uld from turning it into a nursery."

"And forever and ever, universe without end, I will scream for them to rain fire down upon me. My head will be unbowed, for I will finally be getting the eternal punishment I truly deserve. I will face my punishment willingly as it's what I have earned as I have destroyed just about everything that I have ever cared about. Our daughters are the only things I have yet to corrupt and destroy."

The scariest part about the conversation was how perfectly sane Hammond sounded.

His voice was controlled and emotionless. For one who was discussing how damned he was, George sounded like he was discussing the weather.

"I don't know what you expect from me," Samantha stated quietly. Her head was pounding, where was Janet with the damn Benadryl? She wanted to sleep for the next month.

"Keep the girls safe," he insisted. His voice was raw with emotion. "Protect them from me."

"Oh Goddamn it, George. I don't understand you at all, but I know that I fucking hate you," she whispered.

"I expect you to hate me, Samantha," George said that with a quiet dignity. "But you told me that you love Emma in spite of the bastard that fathered her, and I know you love Abby and Hannah. You tried to protect Hannah from me tonight when I was holding her. I should have given you Hannah. I know that, but I love that little girl. She and her sisters are my greatest joys. What am I saying? Those beautiful little girls are my only joys, besides Austin."

"Amazing, isn't it? To come such a long way from home, and to fall so far, and all I have left is the goodwill of that damn Rottie."

Hammond barked a bitter laugh.

"Samantha, the funny thing is that you and I both know that dog loves you and the kids far more than he does me."

She found herself backing away from him, as she felt like she was in the Twilight Zone.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he was sounding like the real Hammond now.

"I want to make a few suggestions. The first one is, if you're going to kill me, Samantha," he instructed her patiently, "You need to make sure that there are no witnesses, dear. You could have succeeded tonight except Janet was worried about the two of us being alone together."

That was it.

She couldn't handle this conversation and so she slapped him again, putting all her weight behind it. This time, the blow made him unsteady on his feet, and it took him a moment to regain his balance.

"You're getting better, Samantha. Next time, go for my left eye. I won't see the blow about to land, after all," Hammond suggested calmly. "I won't be expecting it, and I won't be prepared."

"Remember; go for the eye patch, as you will be able to inflict agonizing pain on me. Perhaps, you might want to talk to one of the Jaffa about borrowing one of their pain sticks. Perhaps when I'm sleeping, you can use it then. But be damn careful though, Samantha," he warned. "Don't go too far, Samantha."

"Careful? About hurting you?" She barked a laugh. "Why shouldn't I hurt you? Like you hurt me? Why shouldn't I inflict as much pain as you're apparently quite willing and eager to take?"

"Because once you start sliding down the slippery slope of madness, there ain't no handholds to stop your descent. And it's goddamn long way to fall," George informed her. "And the climb back up to sanity, is even longer, and sometimes, when you're clawing your way back up, you realize how much easier it would be just to let go."

That comment was the final straw and she staggered away from him, trying not to show her fear to the monster.

"Who the fucking hell are you?" Samantha spat.

"I'm George S. Hammond. I once was a Major General in United States Air Force. I once was a husband, a father and a grandfather, but am no longer. I destroyed my homeworld and murdered countless millions of people to prevent the Goa'uld from turning it into a nursery. I am truly damned," he retorted slowly. "And for the first time in a very long time, I'm seeing things very clearly."