Chapter 6 - When Loneliness Calls

For some reason, I got the weekend off. It felt strange, being alone. Being weak as Hell, barely able to move, but alone. I woke up in the barn; the place the doctor of the village took care of the lucky ones. The lucky ones she found and helped. It seemed I was now one of those lucky ones. I didn't feel lucky, but I guess I was. When I woke up, the doctor was beside me in a second. Her blue eyes looked tired, as though she'd been awake all night. That didn't surprise me. She always stayed awake, as though something might happen during the night. Her name was Azyalae. She was a servant - a slave. Just like everyone in this godforsaken place. She was friendly and pleasant to be around. For the moment, all I knew was that it was her beside me. I could just barely make out her eyes, but even they were a blur. My vision was poor. The barn was too bright for my eyes to cope with. It felt like I'd been in darkness for so long. Brightness stung my eyes now. I squinted in the intensity of the light around me, finding it difficult to sustain consciousness. My eyelids felt so heavy. They wanted me to give in - to fall back into unconsciousness - I could feel it. My head felt heavy too, everything was blurred. My thoughts were confused and fuzzy. Nothing made sense. Nothing was clear.

"You must rest," Azyalae's voice washed into my head like a distant song. I could hear it, but the words were so muddled. Were there words at all, or was I imagining I could hear her? I hated feeling so confused, so uncoordinated and drowsy.

"What?" I tried to ask. I tried to form words, but to me it just sounded like a muffled mess of sound. I didn't know if I'd really said anything at all, or if Azyalae was in fact beside me. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe I was dead. I didn't know anything anymore.

"Shh, lay still and rest. You are exhausted. You need to rest. I shall stay with you, by your side."

I couldn't really understand what she said, but I was almost sure I wasn't dreaming. It sounded like a faraway noise, but her voice was too real for me to be dreaming. If anything, I felt as though I should be dead. Everything they'd done to me, I just didn't understand how I could still be alive. I wished I wasn't. I didn't think I could cope with anything more they had to throw at me. I knew there would be a whole lot more, but I just didn't know if I could keep on suffering through it all. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten anything, and the only water I'd had lately was my tea-bag experience. I felt weak. Felt useless. I had no energy to fight this torture. No will to stand up to it anymore. There was really no use in me trying to stay strong, because it wasn't going to solve anything. They weren't going to magically become caring, nice guys who felt sorry for me.

I knew I shouldn't be so weak; I shouldn't give in so easily. I did know, but it didn't make any difference to how I felt. I wasn't giving in so easily. I'd been through this torture for weeks now. It wasn't as though I wasn't used to that sort of thing, but this was worse than anything I'd been through before. No, that wasn't true. I'd probably been through worse. I didn't understand anything I was feeling, but I just didn't have the strength to go on like this. I wanted it to stop. I wanted all of it to end.

Azyalae was my only company for that day, and although she was nice to have around, I still felt lonely as hell. I didn't know what I was missing, but something wasn't there. Something I needed was a long way away and I didn't even know what it was. I still felt as though I could barely open my eyes, but I needed to get up. I'd been lying awake all morning and I was sick of it. I didn't really believe I could stand on my own yet, but I had to try. I couldn't stay the way I was any more.

"Azyalae," I felt my voice leave my throat, but I don't think she heard me. I don't think I heard me; I just felt that I'd made some kind of a sound. "Azyalae," I said again, trying to force my voice to be louder, or to actually some sound. I must have succeeded to some degree, because finally the doctor turned around.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked me, concern evident in her eyes. Her face was very expressive.

"I need to get up," I told her. My voice was still feeble; she had to lean close to hear me.

"No," she shook her head. "You must rest."

"I can't. I have to get up. It's uncomfortable."

"Then we shall make it more comfortable, but you shall not get up and go anywhere. I will not allow it."

"Azyalae," I said, looking into her eyes. I needed to get up; she needed to see that in my eyes. "Please."

Azyalae looked at me deeply, as if to ask me to change my mind. She wanted me to do what she thought was best. I understood that, but I also knew what I needed to do, and I needed to get up. I could see her thinking very deeply, trying to find another way of saying no without using the word.

"You will not honor my wishes, will you?" she stated, rather than asked. Her voice was still very muffled to my ears, but I heard well enough to know she was asking me to change my mind.

"Sorry," I apologised in place of saying no.

"If I cannot advise you otherwise then, it makes no difference," Azyalae said, almost disappointedly. "You cannot accept my opinion. I understand."

"I accept it," I said honestly, "but I just - I need to get up and move around. I feel trapped, Azyalae. I've been trapped in that little room for weeks. I need to make the most of this time I have. I won't have much of it."

Azyalae smiled. She has an amazingly bright smile. I knew she understood. "If your injuries are worsened by this," she said, not needing to finish.

"Nothing will happen," I assured her.

"You had better hope so," she said, not pulling away the smile on her face. I nodded. I was grateful she understood.

***

"I don't think I met her," Sam said. "She sounds nice."

"She was," Jack confirmed. He didn't realise how uncomfortable Sam had begun to feel after the mention of the doctor.

"You - you must have felt comfortable around her."

"Not initially. She's a doctor. I've never been interested in doctors before. All they wanna do is jab things into you. I'm pretty sure they enjoy it. Some kind of sadistic pleasure." Jack half-smiled to himself. It had been a long time since he'd smiled. It felt good, but also awkward when he noticed Sam seemed to be very distant all of a sudden. "Carter?"

"I think I'm just gonna go, Sir, if you don't mind?" Sam replied, licking her dry lips and swallowing hard. She wasn't sure what had made her feel so uncomfortable all of a sudden, but she knew she needed to leave. Jack was noticeably confused. Why did she want to leave all of a sudden? What had he said? That was the first close to normal conversation he'd had in weeks. What the hell had happened?

"Sure," he sighed, almost reservedly.

"Sorry," Sam said quickly as she left.

Once outside the Infirmary and on her way to her quarters, Sam sighed deeply. Why did I do that? She thought bitterly. Why was I stupid enough to do that? That was one of the first times he's spoken and sounded like his old self again since coming back, and I just.I bolted, for no reason. I really can't believe I did that.

@

"Doc," Jack said as Janet passed by his bed.

Fraiser was initially surprised that he called on her, but glad he was beginning to find his old self again. "What is it, Colonel?" she asked with a smile.

"I need to get out of here."

"I'm not sure what you mean, Sir. Out of the Infirmary or out of the SGC?"

"The Infirmary," Jack clarified. "I need to get out of here. I'm sick of being in here. I want to walk around again, have a long, hot shower."

Janet nodded, understanding perfectly. "Well, I suppose that's really up to you," she confirmed. "If you want to go, I don't see any reason why you can't. I'd like you to stay on the base, though."

"That's all?" O'Neill asked incredulously. "No other orders?"

Janet smiled. This was definitely the Colonel they all knew coming back. "No, Colonel," she replied. "That's about all. Don't push it, though. I want you to stay on base for a reason. Don't go running marathons on me, now. You need to look after yourself as well. If you don't, I'll have you back in here faster than you can say 'doctor's orders', ok?"

Jack nodded. That had been much easier than he'd expected. "When can I go?"

"You can go now, if you like, which I'm almost certain you do. Make sure you do not strain any of those injuries though, Colonel. I did quite a bit of work on you; I don't want it to have been for nothing."

"Whatever you say, Doc."

As soon as Jack was out of the Infirmary, he planned his first stop to be the showers. It had been a while since he'd had the chance to just stand under the steaming hot water of a shower and savour every second. This was first on his 'to do' list, without a doubt. The first thing Jack noticed, when he got to the locker room, was that it was incredibly empty. It seemed strange for that time of the day, but he didn't care. Less people to interrupt his shower. His limbs felt stiff and sore as he stepped into the first shower. His hands seemed a little weaker than usual, and so did everything else. He didn't feel healthy. It didn't feel good, but he would sort all that out eventually. All that mattered now was to make sure he had the best, hottest and longest shower possible. If he could stay there all day, he was pretty close to saying he would.

Jack turned on the water so it came out hot, and not just a little bit hot, really hot. It was almost too hot, but he didn't care. The water, if necessary, could burn out the soreness and stiffness of his body. He needed something soothing, and if steaming hot water was all he could have, then that was good enough. The water hit Jack like hot needles on his back. It seemed to pierce his skin and make it bleed, but he didn't care. The scars and bruises left behind from the torture didn't hurt now, the water did - at least that was what he told himself. He didn't want any reminders of P4C 237 now. That was the past. Right now, this shower was the most important thing to him, as strange as it sounded. Jack turned to let the water pound on his chest, hit like a wall falling on him. Pain didn't mean anything. Pain didn't exist anymore. This water wasn't pain - it was a release and it felt good. Great even.

Jack dropped his head back and turned again, letting the water drown his hair and face, almost hurting the bruises remaining around his neck and face. He slipped his hands over his face, then back over his hair. The water felt so good on him. His body had been violated on P4C 237, violated in a way he hated to remember. A way no one should have to remember. If nothing else, he would make sure it never happened again.

The hot water slowly began to smooth out the kinks in Jack's body. He felt as though he stood there for hours, just letting the heat of the water penetrate his skin and sink into his bones. With both the time alone, and the personal space he began to reclaim as a part of himself, Jack felt rejuvenated. The space in the shower cubical was relatively small, but the quiet solitude, the steam given off by the heat of the water, the nakedness, it all contributed. It all made him feel better.

Time seemed to slowly drip by with the water as it fell onto Jack's body. He barely felt as though he'd been there a few minutes when nearly a whole half hour had passed. It didn't feel that long to O'Neill. The water just kept on soaking him, making his bare skin slowly change to a shade of scarlet. He closed his eyes and almost melted into the water. He felt a part of it, as though it had in fact penetrated his skin and gone through his whole body. Why wasn't everything in life allowed to be savoured like this? Uninterrupted and relaxed. There was no reason to feel anything but relaxed. Jack finally found the terry cloth and soap, lathered the cloth up and leisurely dragged it around his body. In places, bruises were roused, a reminder of what was left behind, but that was the good part. It was left behind. No one ever had to go back there again.

No one ever had to go back there again. Jack sighed at the thought. The best part about that small truth was the first part. No one. No one else would have to see what he saw. Go through what he went through. It didn't help him, but it was good to know. It was good to know that no one else would suffer like he did.

@

Sam reconsidered apologising to her CO nearly a half-hour after getting to her quarters. Why shouldn't she apologise? She was stupid and it wasn't as though he was going to yell at her for apologising.

When she reached the Infirmary, Sam noticed the bed her CO had once been in, was no longer occupied. "Oh, Sam," Janet said as she saw her friend standing by the Infirmary door, "I was going to try to find you in a minute. Sam?"

Carter heard her name for a second time and finally snapped out of her trance. "What?" she asked, bewildered.

"Are you ok?" Fraiser queried her friend. She seemed very jumpy and distant lately.

"Where's Colonel O'Neill?" Sam ignored the question.

"I released him about a half an hour ago."

"Why?"

"Because he requested it, and I saw no reason to say no. Physically he has a little more healing to do, but otherwise, he's ok to leave. He's base- bound, but I don't see anything going wrong while he's here."

"But - but Kayla? I thought - I'm confused," Sam jumbled the sentence, finally admitting the truth. She had no idea what was going on.

"Kayla will continue her work, she's not going yet," Janet confirmed. "Don't worry, Sam. Kayla won't go anywhere until she's satisfied Colonel O'Neill is back to normal. Now, though, there's not really any reason to keep him confined to an Infirmary bed when he's quite capable of walking around on his own."

There was a brief silence in which Sam took in all this new information. "Where is he?" she asked.

"Well, I'm not really sure," Fraiser answered honestly. "He mentioned something about the showers, so he might be there, but - "

"Thanks Janet," Sam said, walking out of the Infirmary, away from her friend.

"No problem," Janet mumbled to herself as she watched Sam leave. "If you find him, tell him Kayla's looking for him!"

Sam heard Janet's words, quickly making her way to the locker room. Then she realised something. The locker room, she thought, it's women's locker room now. I hope he knows that.what if he doesn't know? The times have been changed since he got back. He probably doesn't know. Carter quickened her pace as she rounded the next corner, just one more away from the locker room.

Once in the locker room, Sam suddenly felt uncomfortable. It was empty, no one else in sight, but what if he was here? She could hear a shower running, but assumed it was one of the women.

"Hey," she called over the noise of the running water, "who's in there?"

No one answered. Maybe they hadn't heard her, the water was loud. There was steam everywhere. Sam hoped nothing had happened to the occupant of the shower cubical. That water must be damned hot to create so much steam. "Anyone in there?" Sam tried again, a little louder. "C'mon," she whispered, "someone answer."

Sam began to tap her foot on the ground. She couldn't go in there. What if it was her CO? No, there was no way she was going around to see. She couldn't deny there was a part of her that thought it might be interesting - and perhaps that wasn't even the right word - but there was no way she could do it. No way. She swallowed hard and shook her head, beginning to get impatient. "Is there anyone in here?" she almost shouted. "If there's anyone in here, could they please answer me?"

Jack was shaken out of his silent reverie when he first heard the voice - just barely over the noise of the shower. At first he'd thought, perhaps he was imagining things, as one does tend to think when hearing a faint voice. There was no voice; he was just caught up in his thoughts. He'd imagined the voice. He waited for a moment, hoping not to hear any more voices, but then he heard it again.

It sounded as though it was the same voice, but he couldn't be sure. As though to make matters worse, he also thought it was a female voice, which wasn't good. Again, he couldn't be sure, but it sounded as though it was. "If there's anyone in here, could they please answer me?" The voice asked. Jack shook his head.

"Damn," he murmured. He was very much enjoying his long and uninterrupted shower. It seemed the uninterrupted part was about to end.

"Colonel O'Neill? Are you in here?" Sam asked finally, giving in to her defences. She had thought she hadn't the nerve to ask straight out if he was, but changed her mind. "Colonel," Sam summed up a little more nerve, "it's Major Carter, Sir. If you're in here, umm, can you just let me know somehow?"

Carter? It was Carter? Jack was initially confused, before being surprised. What was she doing? Why was she looking for him? Especially, why was she looking for him in the locker room? How in the Hell had she known he was here? Jack didn't know whether to say something, or pretend he hadn't heard her, hoping she'd just give up. Somehow, he thought, I don't think she'll give up.

"Carter?" Jack called, rather hesitantly; just to be sure it was her.

"Yes, Sir," Sam replied. It was hard having to yell over the roar of the shower's water. She wanted to ask if he would mind turning the water off - coming out to talk to her - but she was uncomfortable with that request. She didn't quite know why, but something about it made it sound inappropriate, or something. It didn't sound very good to her, anyway. "Can I - uhh - can I talk to you, Sir?" Sam rearranged her words, so the request remained the same, but sounded less obtrusive. Still, she felt strange asking. She shook her head. "I can't believe I just asked that," she muttered to herself, in disbelief.

Jack nodded his head; sure, he'd talk to her. Only problem being that he was in the shower, and his towel was where he left it, on the bench. He hadn't expected his shower to be interrupted, least of all by his second in command. There were a million ways to go about the situation, all the logical ways, but neither Sam nor Jack seemed able to find one. So many different approaches, but why did it all seem so hard?

"I'm - well I'm kinda - can it wait, Carter?" Jack finally managed to ask, while looking around to see if someone had left a towel within his reach. Why does this seem so much harder than it is? He thought.

"Well, it's kind of important, Sir, and it's rather difficult having to yell," Carter replied, hoping the yelling between them could soon cease. She was becoming self-conscious about it, wondering if anyone could hear them. Considering it was women's locker room now, she really had no reason to feel uncomfortable about anything, but also considering she was trying to have a conversation with her CO, while he was in the shower during women's locker room, she did feel rather awkward.

Jack shook his head in slight frustration. This was way too hard. This afternoon was supposed to be relaxing, uninterrupted, something - some time - Jack had to himself. When he could think of whatever he wanted, or not think about whatever he wanted. This interruption spoiled the solitude and made him just as quiet and withdrawn as he'd been before. He felt all the old memories coming back to him. All the old feelings of insecurity he'd been trying to overcome. The torturous pain, etching itself back into his mind could come close to bringing him to his knees, but he wouldn't allow that to happen. The only way to deal with this was his way. The only way he knew.

Sam was clearly not going to leave until he came out to talk to her, and as much as he didn't feel like giving in to her, he did know she wouldn't give up in a hurry. That would only make the situation worse, and that wasn't necessary. A worse situation wasn't something O'Neill was prepared to create.