Chapter 28
Even McKay felt the need for humility as he shuffled into the infirmary, a heavy silence hanging in the room where Colonel O'Neill lay in recovery from his surgery. Sam sat at his bedside, Daniel, dozed in a chair nearby, and Teal'c...well, Teal'c was Teal'c, strong and silent as ever, a fearless sentinel who would do anything he could to protect O'Neill from further harm. McKay really couldn't read the guy...probably never would, but he was glad he was on his side.
'How's he doing?' he asked no one in particular.
Daniel's head snapped up, his glasses barely clinging to his nose. 'Huh?'
'He's stable,' Sam replied somewhat more helpfully. 'But we won't know what the damage is until he wakes up.' She choked on those final words, battling to keep her composure, but Rodney caught the sight of the tear in her eyes before she turned away.
McKay's heart sank. It wasn't as if he and Colonel O'Neill were best friends, in fact, he doubted O'Neill would consider him a friend at all, but he like the man, he had a directness of manner McKay could relate to, and he sure as hell didn't deserve this. 'Damage? There could be permanent damage?'
'Dr Fraiser said she thinks it'll be minor, which is a miracle in itself. A few millimetres further one way or the other and it could have been a lot worse,' Daniel continued, Sam now unable to finish the explanation.
McKay nodded. 'So we just have to wait and see?'
'That's about it.' Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked a few times to wake himself up, before sliding his glasses back up and looking at McKay again. 'Was there something you wanted, McKay?'
'I just spoke with General Hammond. He got called away to take a call from the president, but he wants us all to meet in the conference room to discuss what happens next.'
Teal'c arched an eyebrow, as much of a response as McKay had expected, then dipped his head in acknowledgement of the instruction.
Sam sat up straight, smoothing away at the tears beneath her eyes, then stood. 'Okay, let's go.'
She looked pale and careworn, something Daniel obviously spotted, too. 'Are you okay, Sam?' he asked as he pushed up from his own chair. 'Maybe you could stay here while we go to the meeting.'
'No...I need to be there. Besides...it's not like there's much I can do here,' she replied, 'Janet will let us know if anything changes.'
'Hey, this is Jack,' Daniel joked, rubbing her arm. 'He's gotten through a lot worse than this. He's gonna pull through.'
She nodded, but his kind words brought her back to the brink of tears. She swept past them all, setting a pace they had difficulty keeping up with.
They all assembled in the conference room as the general had requested, but it was ten minutes more before the general himself joined them. He immediately apologised for keeping them waiting, and took up his seat at the head of the table.
'I just got through speaking with the president. I know this is a difficult time for you all, but he wants us to implement the operation to apprehend Sarayah as soon as possible.'
A knock on the doorframe announce the arrival of another guest, and Carson bumbled in, spouting apologies and making his way over to a spare seat. He looked dishevelled and just as exhausted as the rest of them now. Apparently he'd been a big help during surgery, and it had been in a large part down to him that the colonel hadn't suffered greater damage to his brain than was evident from current scans.
'Thank you for joining us, Dr Beckett. I know you've had a long night.'
'Yes...well...I'm sure I'll get a chance to catch up on some sleep later. I was told this was important.'
'I was just telling SG-1 and Dr McKay that the president wishes us to implement our plan to recapture Sarayah without delay,' Hammond recapped to bring the Scot up to speed.
'Oh...right.' The doctor's bright blue eyes darted around the table, as if he was rapidly assessing from their expressions what his own reaction should be.
'Well that could be a little difficult,' Daniel was the first to point out. 'With Jack incapacitated, getting Sarayah in the right place in the right condition at the right time can't be guaranteed...not if the technology works in the way Dr Beckett suggested. We won't have the mental control over her we were hoping for.'
'If it works that way,' McKay snorted, then felt bad for criticising at a time like this. It was how he dealt with stress, but it wasn't helping anyone else. He mentally chastised himself and promised himself he wouldn't do it again.
'Well, whether Dr Beckett's theory is correct or not, we need to press ahead. My understanding is that it may still be possible to perform the capture if the timing is right.'
'Yes, Sir,' Sam nodded, her face still reflecting her current anguish even as her logical brain kicked into gear. 'We need the device to be in close range to Sarayah to ensure it will be more powerful than anything the experimental 'gate itself might generate within her, but if we activate it just as she tries to travel, the exact moment the bonds between her cells break apart, we should be able to capture and hold her in that disassembled state indefinitely.'
Hammond nodded, taking her comments on board. 'So, with that in mind, we revert to our original plan to use someone unknown to Sarayah to move the device into close enough proximity.'
'Actually...I might be able to help with this...' The suggestion came from a very meek looking Carson, who was holding up his hand as if he was a school kid asking permission to go to the bathroom.
'You?' McKay practically laughed, almost instantly breaking his internalised promise. 'Sorry, but I think your PhD is in the wrong field. You can't slap a band-aid on this and prescribe a course of antibiotics!'
'I appreciate that as a lowly medic I'm not blessed with the brain capacity of yourself and Major Carter –' Carson began, throwing him a withering look.
'I didn't say that,' Sam quickly pointed out, leaving McKay out on a limb again.
'No, dear, but it's true,' he continued. 'Like I said, I don't have the brain capacity you two are blessed with, but I do have something you may need.'
'Yes, yes. Don't keep us all in suspense,' McKay insisted, hurrying him along.
'I have the same gene Major Sheppard and the colonel have.'
McKay gaped back at him with a mixture of elation and annoyance. 'What? Why didn't you mention that before?'
'Well, it wasn't important before when Colonel O'Neill was going to carry out the operation, but now it is...although...I have to confess my gene representation isn't as strong as that of either the colonel or Major Sheppard and I have absolutely no experience of this kind of thing. To be honest, the whole idea absolutely terrifies me!'
'Actually, this is perfect,' Sam interjected, perking up at the news. 'You have the genes to hopefully manipulate Sarayah's movements to get the timing just right, and you're a stranger. She'll have no reason to suspect anything. You won't even need a disguise.'
'Although a Scotsman appearing in the middle of Afghanistan might strike her as a little odd,' Carson suggested, his brows knitting at the thought.
'Not necessarily. Sarayah isn't familiar with everything about Earth and its various cultures; she might not appreciate how out of place you are,' Carter explained, and although McKay wanted to disagree, he figured she could be right. 'Besides, since you're a doctor and we have troops out there, you could just be working out in the field.'
'Oh, right...if you put it that way...well, I think I owe it to Colonel O'Neill to make this plan work...if I can.'
'Then this mission has a go,' Hammond announced. 'SG-1, take good care of Dr Beckett and ensure he returns to carry out the work we need him to help with after this operation is a success.'
'Ever the optimist,' Rodney muttered, as he gathered up his things and followed the others from the room. He'd never been out on the Prometheus before, and was excited at the prospect of seeing this wonderful piece of technology he'd been hearing so much about...though the whole ring transporter thing left him feeling a little uneasy. Still, he couldn't help thinking that using it would be a cake-walk compared to what Beckett had just volunteered to do. He wondered if the medic leaned toward stupid, just like O'Neill had said he did. No, he figured not. The man had seen Sarayah's handy work now. Putting himself up against her despite that had to be an act of bravery.
And if their latest tracking information was up to date, he would be right there in Afghanistan hiding behind the biggest boulder around and cheering him on.
oooOOOooo
With no idea how long he'd been wandering, Sheppard collapsed in the dust and considered just staying there. He was desperately thirsty, but with no water or help in sight there wasn't a damn thing he could do to quench it.
He sat on the mountainside thinking about his options, figuring they amounted to death here or maybe a hundred yards away if he put some effort into it, then he heard Ugly's mournful cry once again. The creature was still following, watching the life and blood literally ebb out of him.
'You know, you could show a bit more restraint!' he croaked, 'Just hang back a little until I'm gone, will ya?'
The bird's head twitched, and it eyed him sideways on. Apparently, the mangy-looking critter wasn't going anywhere. This bird figured the meal he was tracking was a done deal. Sheppard glared back at it, but in some ways found its presence less repulsive than it had seemed when first stalking him. This thing needed food, no other emotions drove it. It wasn't out to kill him just to make the most of an opportunity presented. It was following its basest instincts. He couldn't blame it for that.
Though his body hurt so much he feared he might pass out if he moved again, Sheppard decided he wasn't ready to give up just yet. He was working his way down to ground level, and if he made it there was a road down there. Once on it he hoped someone might pass by and take pity on him...that or put a bullet through his head and end things quicker. Either way was putting a positive spin on things. He might just end up in Taliban hands again, living out whatever hours were left in him in agonising interrogations. Great, now the paranoia was back again! He really didn't need that on top of everything else he was dealing with.
Sheppard peered up ay his hungry companion again. 'Sorry to disappoint you, pal, but I'm not ready to die just yet,' he grunted, forcing himself back up to his feet, giving a muted scream through his gritted teeth as he did so. He wrapped his left arm around his midriff, not entirely certain his skin wasn't about to split open and let his innards spill out, though his logical mind told him the whip hadn't scored his flesh that deeply. Once he'd got a handle on his pain, he added, 'I gotta get out of here 'cos I'm the only one who can stop that crazy bitch shooting my wife...again. You're just gonna have to get your food some place else today.'
Ugly just tilted his head a little more and blinked, offering no opinion on his optimism.
He started downwards again, the gritty earth slipping from beneath his feet as he went until eventually he picked up too much momentum and started falling, rolling down the last stretch of bank and ending up in a heap at the bottom of it.
'Oh yeah...that helped,' he groaned, hardly daring to move for the first couple of seconds. But he knew the longer he sat there, the less chance he had of reaching help, so he rolled onto his back and gave himself a few seconds longer to prepare himself for the agony of rising, then set his jaw and went for it. Once again, he ended up suppressing a scream in his throat, but he was upright...and if he was upright, he still had a chance of avoiding becoming Ugly's dinner.
After that each step took more effort than he thought himself capable of, but at least on the flatter road the going was easier than the descent had been. What he wouldn't give for one of those bottles of water Sarayah had forced on him over the past few days now. And then he started thinking about Sarayah herself, wondering where she was now. With any luck the realisation she couldn't set her problems straight by taking it out of his ass had sent her over the edge and she'd done the whole world a favour by imploding...or exploding, he wasn't fussy which, just so long as she wasn't here with him.
The skin on the back of his neck prickled, and he stopped and checked over his shoulder. As if he could see her if she wanted to lurk unseen anyway. She'd been all over him at the SGC and he hadn't seen a thing. Then he thought of that kiss and his moment of weakness, cringing at the memory of actually considering Sarayah as a potential partner for even the tiny amount of time that he'd let that thought form. None of which was helping now, and he cursed himself letting his imagination take him there. She wasn't here anymore; she'd left him to die and gone off to find some other poor unsuspecting guy to harass. Jeez, no! That didn't even bear thinking about. He wouldn't wish this on his worst enemy. But he knew she wouldn't bother with anyone else because no one else had ruined her life and got inside her head like he had...so was she really gone if he'd affected her that deeply?
His paranoia had caused him to stagger to a halt. He squinted up at the sun, attempting to lift his hand to shield his eyes, but the movement pulled at his injuries and so was swiftly abandoned. From the height of the sun's glaring light he guessed it was now past midday, but not much. This heat wasn't going away any time soon, so whether he liked it or not, he was going to have to press on now because if he tried to wait it out, he was likely to die of dehydration before he got anywhere. And no, he told himself, Sarayah was not hovering around and waiting to pounce. If she had been, she would have done it by now, drawn to his battered body like a shark to blood in the water.
Ugly flew past him overhead, his shadow giving just momentary shade before he rode the thermals until landing in a tree just further up the road. It was no more than a few hundred yards away, but it might have well have been a mile the way Sheppard felt. Still, he decided to use it as a milestone on his journey, a marker to reach before setting himself his next target. An insurmountable problem should be broken down into manageable chunks. If he made it to the tree, he could choose another new target from there.
And so it continued, Ugly helpfully choosing his next aim whenever he got close to him. For all his unthinkable portent, the damn vulture was the only thing keeping him going...well, that and the thought of saving Nancy.
Then, out of the sweltering heat distortions rippling up from the road behind him, a truck came into view. At first, he thought it might be a mirage, or wishful thinking from a brain still recovering from its alcohol and morphine induced bad trip. It took a few seconds longer to realise the truck was as real as he was. Knowing this was most likely his one and only chance of getting to help, Sheppard fought down his natural urge to hide out, and began flagging it down as best he could, holding his stomach to try to stop the worst of the pulling, as he made a slowing gesture to ask the driver to stop. He half expect the truck to go right on by...he had to look pretty freaky right now, covered in blood and barely able to stand up, but to his amazement he heard it slowing down and it came to a halt just a few feet away from him.
The driver stared out the window at him, still clutching the steering wheel tightly.
Sheppard stumbled up to the passenger door and yanked it open. 'Hey, thanks for stopping,' he said, forcing on a smile.
Initially the man didn't respond, not even turning his head toward him.
'You speak any English?' Sheppard probed.
Now the man's head snapped around his way, his brown eyes round and filled with panic. He began to jibber in his native tongue, so fast and incomprehensible that Sheppard could barely pick out any words. But the one he did understand was "help", which he took as a good sign. He hauled himself into the cab and slumped into the seat, the man still rambling beside him. Okay, I get it, Sheppard thought, holding up a hand to placate his rescuer. It's dangerous to be seen picking me up, so let's go. To the man, he simply said, 'Drive...please.'
He clearly understood that much English, because he turned back to face the road and set off, just as he'd asked him to.
Sheppard watched out the window as they passed Ugly, giving him a salute. Much as the bird had planned to feast on his entrails, he had helped him to keep going as long as he had. He actually felt a little sorry for the bird that his patience had been rewarded with total failure and an empty stomach. Letting his head fall back against the seat, Sheppard allowed himself a moment to enjoy the relative comfort offered by the creaky old truck, although air-con wouldn't have gone amiss right then. Though he wanted to stay awake and try to make the man understand he needed to get to an allied forces base or better still a military infirmary, he felt the undeniable tug of sleep and it was too strong to resist. They were out in the middle of nowhere; just a few minutes rest wouldn't hurt. He could make his needs understood later when they got nearer to the next town. His mind began to wander to abstract thoughts, weird disjointed images firing through his exhausted brain as it began to shut down all but essential services.
'So, John...I've been thinking...'
Sheppard cracked his eyes open, wondering if he'd imagined that in his half-asleep state. But the man was looking at him as if expecting a response, so he had to have said something. Sheppard blinked at him, realising the driver had said that comment in perfect English, though heavily accented, and he'd thought the guy didn't even speak his language. Then he realised something else.
'How do you know my name?' he demanded, suddenly alert again.
The truck sped up as his driver increased the pressure on the gas pedal. 'Oh, come on now, John. I know you're smarter than that. You work it out.'
The driver turned and gave him a smirk that told him just who exactly was in control of the vehicle now.
'Oh crap!' he breathed, reaching for the release catch on the door and trying to throw himself out with no regard for the speed they were now attaining.
Something grabbed his arm and stopped him spilling out, the touch not gripping his skin but the bone itself, causing him agonies on top of his agonies. When he looked, Sarayah's arm had exited the driver's body to catch hold of him, and now the driver's free arm, the one limb he had control of, was frantically beating and tearing at his own body as if trying to rip her out. Despite that, his head turned Sheppard's way and gave him a cool stare. 'I'm sorry, John. I can't let you do that. You see, I need you. You're still vital to my plans...now even more than you ever were.'
And then a strange tingling heat spread through him and they were out of the truck and soaring, flying above the peaks of the mountains until he managed to sway her thoughts and force her to release him so he landed with a solid thump on a craggy plateau far above ground level again. When he lifted his head he saw the four stakes in the ground he'd been taped to, the whip and his splatters of blood staining the dust nearby. All that struggling, all that effort, and he was quite literally back to square one.
'You have got to be kidding!' He dropped his head back into the dirt and did his damnedest not to cry, the sense of frustration and futility almost too much to cope with.
'As I was saying before you tried that foolish stunt,' Sarayah continued, crunching through the dirt beside him, her boots eventually coming to a standstill next to his head, 'I've been thinking, and you're wrong, dying isn't the only way I can end my pain. You lied to me again, didn't you, John? Because you have the power to change our future and you knew that. You're the key to all this. You could go through and make sure I don't lose my hand.'
'Sure...I'll make sure you don't come back to Earth...I have no problem with that,' he told her...and he didn't because he had every intention of making sure that didn't happen.
She squatted beside him, peering at him. 'I'm actually quite impressed. You played a clever game there, John. You almost had me convinced that taking my life was the only way out of this. I think you've matured in these past few days we've spent together. You're more like the Sheppard I used to know, the one who understood threats and brute force would get him nowhere. But the trouble is, now you've learned how to play the game, I can't trust you to change the future in the way I need you to. Not coming back here is one thing, but I know enough about how I got here from you to know that's not the same time I lost my hand. So, if you don't mind, when you go through the Ring of the Ancestors to the Pegasus galaxy, I'll be travelling with you.' He lifted his head a little to tell her what he thought of that, only to have her grab his hair and lift it higher. 'Got something to say?'
He would have spat right in her face if he'd had the saliva to do it. Instead, he settled for croaking, 'In your dreams, freak!'
She just laughed, tightening her grip on his hair and straining it at the roots. 'Oh, you have no idea how true those words are,' she chuckled, her eyes sparkling. 'I have dreamt of controlling you entirely for so long, and now I have the means to do it.'
The hand holding his hair now began sinking into his head, the heat of her invasion almost frying his brain.
'No!' he groaned, channelling all his energy into forcing her back out again. It seemed to work, because she advanced no further and ended up withdrawing her hand altogether...which she then used to punch him.
Now, his mouth was full of blood again. He'd lost count of how many times that had happened lately, but he was getting sick of the taste. She tried to infiltrate his body again while he was stunned, but he wasn't that out of it, feeling the uncomfortable tingling heat and focusing on blocking her again.
After a battle of wills, she pulled back, kicking him over onto his back and drawing a gun, pressing it to his forehead. 'You know, I don't actually need you to be alive to take over and animate your body,' she growled, that trademark cruel smirk twisting her features.
He panted for a few seconds, not daring to move, letting the pain of the movement she'd instigated die down before reacting. 'Go ahead, but I think people might notice something's wrong if you show up with a hole in your forehead...especially when you start rotting in a few days.'
She tilted her head, obviously giving that some consideration. For a moment he thought she might say she didn't care and ventilate his brains, but then he felt the pressure on his forehead ease, the barrel shoved up under his chin instead. 'True. Maybe I should just try out a little brain surgery instead...make you more compliant. Just like I did with O'Neill.'
His heart sank. So that was who had taken the brunt of her anger after the Laurel debacle. 'Is he...?'
'Dead?' She shrugged. 'I didn't hang around long enough to find out. Suffice to say, if he isn't he'll have one almighty headache right now,' she said, smugness oozing out of her.
'He never did anything to you!'
'HE DISRESPECTED ME!' she shouted, shoving that gun a little harder up under his jaw. 'He threatened me with a lunatic asylum if I didn't give him information. Do you call that nothing?'
Sheppard considered staying quiet on that one, figuring silence was his best friend right now, but the injustice of her logic meant he couldn't hold his tongue. 'He was doing his job, just like I was when I came to your planet...I mean, when I go to your planet.'
'Then the two of you should consider a change of career.'
'You know, this whole men-hating thing is starting to get really old,' he challenged. 'Get help and get over it already...you're in our world now and you can't keep treating people like this.'
She laughed, standing up straight and stamping a foot on his chest, making him scream far louder than he was proud of. She deliberately twisted her boot on his blood-soaked torn white T-shirt, setting him squirming and yelling out several words that turned the air blue. 'And who's going to stop me, John? You?'
He wanted to say yes, he wanted that more than he'd ever wanted anything in the world, but she had him beat and they both knew it. Anything he said to her was just so much hot air.
'So how long do you think you can hold out, John?' she asked, casually twirling the gun on her index finger as she looked down on him. 'You're exhausted, bleeding, dehydrated, probably developing an infection in those injuries. Eventually sickness and fatigue are going to take their toll and you'll lose consciousness. Then I'll just move right in and take over.'
He struggled to force her foot off him, meeting with the usual problem until he finally concentrated enough to get her to stop melting away and grabbed her foot, tipping her off balance and setting her on her butt in the dust.
Furious, she kicked him, then drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest, watching him as he struggled up into a sitting position himself. Even that small movement was enough to make him almost pass out. But he couldn't lose consciousness now. If he did and she got inside him and made herself at home he might never get her out again.
'You try another trick like that and I'll shoot your legs from under you,' she growled, aiming the gun his way again.
'Go ahead...won't feel much worse than I already do,' he muttered, pulling his shirt away from the fresh blood on his skin.
'Oh, you think not?' she smiled, a cruel twinkle lighting her eyes. 'I imagine you might just change your mind if I do this.'
She fired the gun, the bullet biting into the dirt just an inch from his right foot. He jumped at the sound, a tiny cloud of dust rising near him.
'Oh, dear. I missed.' She did it again, this time only half an inch from his other boot.
'Okay, okay, I get the message!' he told her, the shock of the second shot and its proximity setting him trembling. She wasn't above shooting him to make him comply...he knew that from his visions.
She looked pleased with his terrified reaction, starting a slow crawl towards him as he tried to shuffle back and keep the distance between them. 'So if you don't want me to shoot you, you'll give up without a fight?' she asked, those dark eyes of hers burning bright with excitement.
'I will never stop fighting you,' he assured her, wincing as his efforts pulled on his shredded skin.
She paused in her advance, a wide grin splitting her face. 'I was hoping you'd say that.' And with a rush she was on him, then in him, his body overwhelmed by her burning, tingling presence as she bowled him head over heels with the force of her entry.
He lay sprawled and stunned, an unnatural stirring inside him leaving him feeling like he might hurl. For a moment or two he felt unable to act, winded and agonised as his body felt, but then he realised if he didn't fight as he'd promised her he would this might be the last conscious thought he had. He thought about getting her out of him, thought about the sight of her energy leaving his body, focused every ounce of his strength that remained on pushing her back, casting her out and keeping her out. He sensed her anger building, felt pain as she literally clawed to gain purchase as her hold on him slipped. But she couldn't reform in any effective way because she knew it would kill him...and she needed him alive, as much as the fact pained her to admit.
With a dragging sensation that felt like he might be being turned inside out, Sarayah's energy came falling back out of him, her form reassembling and sliding back across the loose, dusty soil on that rocky ground. Oh, that couldn't be good.
She sat a moment, clearly surprised to be back out on solid ground, then lifted her furious gaze to his. 'That was a mistake, John. You need to remember who has the power here.'
'Well, apparently you're not as "all-powerful" as you thought,' he panted, rising up to stand rather shakily before her. Just his increased height gave him a psychological boost, sick as he was of being stepped on by her.
Unfortunately the psychology had no impact at all on his captor. 'Oh, I haven't even started yet, John,' she warned, eyeing him salaciously as she began to walk a slow circle around him. 'Come on, John. Wouldn't you prefer me to take over your body than anyone else's? I you leave me loose out here, how will you ever know who you can trust. Every injured troop you rescue, every new friend you make, every woman you ever try to get close to...I might be any one of them. Can you face the idea of spending the rest of your life questioning everyone's intentions?'
That thought creeped him out more than anything she'd done to him so far. He would spend the rest of his life just waiting for her to show up and torture him. She could spend the rest of his life tormenting his every waking moment...his every sleeping moment, too. She wasn't limited by the purely physical world, after all.
In his moment of distraction she launched for him again, the force of her invasion once again sending him flying back and thudding in the dirt. He scrambled to his hands and knees, retching at the unnatural sensations awakening inside him. He could see her thoughts, feel her rage, see everything she'd ever done to any person she'd ever met all in an instant, including every meeting that lay ahead for the both of them. It was sensory overload, and his mind almost blacked out, his vision tunnelling as he struggled to breathe, the pressure in his body focused on his lungs just as it had been in the SGC. She was trying to render him unconscious so she could take over...he had to get her out before she succeeded.
So he thought the words that always cause a reaction, Go to hell!
He felt her shudder, but she didn't leave his body, the respite on his lungs only brief. Of course not...this was hell for him now. But the words had still tangibly weakened her grip, so he thought them again, along with the words get out, and once again he felt the weird separation as her energy was forcibly ejected from his body.
She flew out with incredible pace, reforming and rolling across the ground and thumping into a boulder that knocked the wind from her with a gasp. It brought him a small sense of satisfaction to see her hurt, but it was short lived. The cold realisation that he couldn't keep this up indefinitely hit hard as he struggled to his feet again. If she got inside him and took him back to the SGC and eventually to Atlantis, who knew what havoc she could wreak in his name? Oh, she'd have her recompense, all right. She could make him do anything to anyone, and he would be in there, powerless to stop her.
When he surfaced from his thoughts she was already on her feet and running, this time choosing not to disperse into the air but to slam into him, shouldering him back and slamming him against some rocks, the pain of the collision leaving him shaken and too weak to stand. He crumpled to the floor, left staring at her boots once again. God, he hated the way she made him feel so small.
She squatted down in front of him, reaching out to stroke his hair back from his perspiration soaked forehead. 'So young and foolish,' she purred, sliding the back of her fingers down the plane of his cheek, 'and so very beautiful. Since the moment I set eyes on you on Medulsa I've dreamt of nothing but possessing you entirely, and now I'm going to finally achieve it. Oh, you can fight all you want, but you know I'll get inside you and stay in there eventually. It's only a matter of time.' She slid her fingers down his neck, over his racing pulse, and then up the back of his neck where she grasped him tight and pulled his face in close to hers. 'I'm going to enjoy this very much, John,' she whispered, allowing her lips to brush against his as she spoke. 'You have no idea how much.'
He closed his eyes tight shut, anticipating the kiss, the sensation every bit as revolting as he knew it would be. But this time along with it came the blast of energy rushing into him as she used the contact to take over his body once more, her cells coupling with his, filling him up from head to toe and invading every atom of his being.
All he could do was throw his head back and scream to the sky above, his anguished cry echoing back from the mountains around him as if mocking his meagre rebellion.
A/N: Oh...poop! She's back with a new plan and it seems like it's working. Now would be a really good time for a rescue, don't you think?
Thanks to everyone still reading and reviewing. Hasn't this woman driven you all crazy enough yet? lol :)
