Bitter Aftertaste
hanging like shadows o'er the sun
staring out like the eyes of the dead
and sometimes my soul flickers
when the wind of change blows cold
#Sam#
Tears land beside me with such force; hitting the cold hard stone I lay on, sending the sound of gunshots crying out in silent still air, pounding through my sore head. The surface beneath me is hard and uncomfortable and stones dig into my back. All my efforts become focused on moving, just enough to un-lodge the stones, but I can not.
I close my eyes, focusing on clearing the fog in my mind before concentrating on lifting my arm. I can't do that; whether I just don't have the strength or I am restrained I don't know. I try and move my legs, and still the same hindrance presents itself. I try to speak, to ask one of the many faces around me to help, release me, but I can't find the words, I can't find my voice, lost somewhere in the mists of the vortex that is spinning in my mind.
Panic seeps into my skin and begins a slow crawl along my veins, and my heart begins to beat fast, its pace only saved from quickening even more by the fact that I can still turn my head; at least I have control over that part of my body.
His face is the first thing I see, high above me like some kind of divinity. I know him, I know him well. Something inside of me is screaming this fact into every cell, every inch of my structure. There's something in his eyes, some kind of fusion of emotion swimming in dark brown rivulets, fighting just to stay afloat and his eye lids act as dams against the cascade of tears.
My own tears quicken their descent as I remember, remember and ache even more. I wish I could scream. I wish I could get up, throw myself into his arms and feel his skin, skin I love as my own, beneath my touch. I want to tell him I'm ok, that it's all right. I was taken by the arm and lead back to this earth, before I finished my journey, but I don't mind. Something, some voice said it wasn't my time to go, and that's why this worked. I knew Jack wouldn't accept my death, that he would do anything in his power to change my fate, it's a burning passion inside of him, you can see it, just beneath his shell, he is so afraid of losing someone else. I guess that's why I'm back. But why can't I move, or speak, and why does he look so melancholy? Nothing makes sense as my head pounds harder.
He lays a hesitant hand on my arm. My eyes lock on to his touch, its colour merging with my own. My eyes sting and a fresh wave of hot tears fall each track the last tumbling down my check, landing next to my ear with a thunderous outcry.
I can't feel it. His touching me, I can see it, unless my eyes are under some kind of spell? No, his hand is on my arm, in full contact and I cannot feel it. I look down to my wrists. I am not in binds; I am free and yet pinned by an invisible force; my own body is giving out on me. My mind has returned to live out a little longer, but my composition apparently doesn't want to play ball.
Taken fully into his arms, he carries me the distance to the gate, refusing to let Teal'c take my burden for a while, he carries me through the gate, still not letting me go until he finally places he on the rough nylon green and white sheets of the infirmary. His hands slip from beneath me, and he steps back letting Janet have access, all the while our eyes never looking to any thing other than their parallel pair. Nothing can detach me from his gaze, not busy questions, not needles, or lights shined into my eyes. I am numb to everything but his spirit standing just yards from me, watching over me like a guardian angel, waiting to take me by the hand and lead me away.
An age passes before we are finally left alone. He sits next to me in the darkened room, the light beside my bed being the only source of illumination. Running a hand over my forehead, brushing away my hair that grew surprisingly fast over four months, he lays a kiss on my warm skin. I thank god I can at least feel this, I would go crazy if I couldn't. But anything from the neck down. nothing.
"It's gonna be ok, ya know. I know it may not seem like it now, but I promise you, whatever it takes, you'll get better. Janet thinks that this is only a temporary side affect from your brain being out of it for so long, or something like that, you know this isn't my thing.science I mean." He makes a small coughing noise and begins to fiddle with the blanket that covers me, picking at bits of frayed material. His hand moves to mine and he squeezes it, so hard his knuckles turn white.
"Oh, hey, I got you something." He digs into his pocket and produces a small glinting ring, "I don't know if you remember this, but just before.well, before it happened, we agreed to get married. I don't know.blink if you remember?" I blink. I remember, I remember it vividly. "In that case, will you ware this ring? As a sign of hope, as an incentive to get back on your feet, so you can walk down that isle, as something to remember that I love you, no matter what happens." I can only smile and nod silently as he slides it on to my finger. He doesn't leave me, not for a second in the night. I couldn't find sleep, or sleep couldn't find me for the entire time the moon reined in the sky. I guess I'd had too much sleep recently anyway. They say its good for the skin, but I guess death is just not as refreshing, as my lips are dry and torn, and my skin only begins to return to a normal colour hours after my rebirth.
It's going to be a long, and I dare say bumpy road, but perhaps I can make it. I guess time will tell.
*
Sometimes I'm glad for my lack of sensation. The several million needles Janet keeps prodding me with don't hurt if you can't feel where she's sticking them. As days pass I feel nothing more than frustration and longing. I just want to get out of this bed, I am sick of staring at the ceiling, and I am sick of being spoken to like I am deaf. I'm not! I can hear perfectly well. No one means too, but it's like talking to someone with a different tongue, you automatically shout, thinking they will understand you if you raise your voice.
The worst frustration of all its not being able to speak, to tell Jack to go home and get some sleep, coz he's face is starting to sag and all the coffee he's been drinking has put him in a range of strange moods, and I'm not the only one its driving crazy.
They pump me full of drugs, hook me up to machines, run test after test, and I see that hopeful look in the nurses eye dieing the longer this goes on without change. I am beginning to get angry with myself. It's been a week now, and its so degrading not being able to even feed yourself. Being spoon feed by the people you love is something I never thought I would have to go through, not in my late 30's anyway.
"Hello beautiful" my eyes shift right as I hear a voice I recognise, one I haven't heard for a while.
"I turn my back for five minutes and look at the state you get yourself into!" I smile as dad pulls up a chair from near by and sits down. Taking my hand, is head stays low, hiding his face. He does that when he's upset. When I was 12 I had an accident, fell of my bike and got knocked unconscious. I woke up in a hospital bed with the same man before me, baring the same expression. Fear. Worry.
He rubs a hand over his face and looks up to meet my eyes.
"Selmac might be able to help. I've already talked to Gorge. I am going to try healing you." He sighs in anger "If Jack had come to me in the first place maybe we could have spared you this." He says. I am left not knowing what he means by that. He would have given up, talked Jack out of it and let his only daughter be laid to rest next to his wife, or he would have joined forces and somehow got a sarcophagus?
"Well, there's no time like the present I guess. I'll be back soon sweetie" he kisses me on the head and leaves in search of the healing device we keep on base. 10 minutes later Jack, Janet, and dad are gathered around my bed.
The glowing device is held above me and I feel the warmth as the beam runs over my skin and into my blood. Its feels good, I feel good. I feel the strength slowly return to me, and I can once again recognise my legs and arms. But as the beam moves higher, to my neck, a sudden pain, unlike any I have felt in a long time stings me. Still unable to scream, I scrunch my face up, and water fills my eyes as a reflex. My hands string into life, working once more and following my command telling them to push the healer away.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Janet checks all the machines I am plugged into, the cardiac monitor screaming high frequency bleeps as my heart races.
"I don't know" her voice has a note of panic in it. Noting the point of my pain, she turns to examine my neck.
"Oh my god!" That's not the best thing to say to your patient. I clench my fists as more pain moves through my neck, and I can feel something leech from the wound that had healed and is obviously now being split open again.
"What?" Jack almost shouts, moving to the other side of my bed to take a look. As soon as his eyes lock on it his face turns pale, he looks as though he's seen a ghost. "Jeez." Is the only word to leave his lips.
"Ok, I need to take a sample of this, and I want an x-ray, an EKG and an EEG, stat! Its ok Sam, you're going to be ok."
I wish people would stop saying that.
**
TBC
Oh, it so aint over yet!
hanging like shadows o'er the sun
staring out like the eyes of the dead
and sometimes my soul flickers
when the wind of change blows cold
#Sam#
Tears land beside me with such force; hitting the cold hard stone I lay on, sending the sound of gunshots crying out in silent still air, pounding through my sore head. The surface beneath me is hard and uncomfortable and stones dig into my back. All my efforts become focused on moving, just enough to un-lodge the stones, but I can not.
I close my eyes, focusing on clearing the fog in my mind before concentrating on lifting my arm. I can't do that; whether I just don't have the strength or I am restrained I don't know. I try and move my legs, and still the same hindrance presents itself. I try to speak, to ask one of the many faces around me to help, release me, but I can't find the words, I can't find my voice, lost somewhere in the mists of the vortex that is spinning in my mind.
Panic seeps into my skin and begins a slow crawl along my veins, and my heart begins to beat fast, its pace only saved from quickening even more by the fact that I can still turn my head; at least I have control over that part of my body.
His face is the first thing I see, high above me like some kind of divinity. I know him, I know him well. Something inside of me is screaming this fact into every cell, every inch of my structure. There's something in his eyes, some kind of fusion of emotion swimming in dark brown rivulets, fighting just to stay afloat and his eye lids act as dams against the cascade of tears.
My own tears quicken their descent as I remember, remember and ache even more. I wish I could scream. I wish I could get up, throw myself into his arms and feel his skin, skin I love as my own, beneath my touch. I want to tell him I'm ok, that it's all right. I was taken by the arm and lead back to this earth, before I finished my journey, but I don't mind. Something, some voice said it wasn't my time to go, and that's why this worked. I knew Jack wouldn't accept my death, that he would do anything in his power to change my fate, it's a burning passion inside of him, you can see it, just beneath his shell, he is so afraid of losing someone else. I guess that's why I'm back. But why can't I move, or speak, and why does he look so melancholy? Nothing makes sense as my head pounds harder.
He lays a hesitant hand on my arm. My eyes lock on to his touch, its colour merging with my own. My eyes sting and a fresh wave of hot tears fall each track the last tumbling down my check, landing next to my ear with a thunderous outcry.
I can't feel it. His touching me, I can see it, unless my eyes are under some kind of spell? No, his hand is on my arm, in full contact and I cannot feel it. I look down to my wrists. I am not in binds; I am free and yet pinned by an invisible force; my own body is giving out on me. My mind has returned to live out a little longer, but my composition apparently doesn't want to play ball.
Taken fully into his arms, he carries me the distance to the gate, refusing to let Teal'c take my burden for a while, he carries me through the gate, still not letting me go until he finally places he on the rough nylon green and white sheets of the infirmary. His hands slip from beneath me, and he steps back letting Janet have access, all the while our eyes never looking to any thing other than their parallel pair. Nothing can detach me from his gaze, not busy questions, not needles, or lights shined into my eyes. I am numb to everything but his spirit standing just yards from me, watching over me like a guardian angel, waiting to take me by the hand and lead me away.
An age passes before we are finally left alone. He sits next to me in the darkened room, the light beside my bed being the only source of illumination. Running a hand over my forehead, brushing away my hair that grew surprisingly fast over four months, he lays a kiss on my warm skin. I thank god I can at least feel this, I would go crazy if I couldn't. But anything from the neck down. nothing.
"It's gonna be ok, ya know. I know it may not seem like it now, but I promise you, whatever it takes, you'll get better. Janet thinks that this is only a temporary side affect from your brain being out of it for so long, or something like that, you know this isn't my thing.science I mean." He makes a small coughing noise and begins to fiddle with the blanket that covers me, picking at bits of frayed material. His hand moves to mine and he squeezes it, so hard his knuckles turn white.
"Oh, hey, I got you something." He digs into his pocket and produces a small glinting ring, "I don't know if you remember this, but just before.well, before it happened, we agreed to get married. I don't know.blink if you remember?" I blink. I remember, I remember it vividly. "In that case, will you ware this ring? As a sign of hope, as an incentive to get back on your feet, so you can walk down that isle, as something to remember that I love you, no matter what happens." I can only smile and nod silently as he slides it on to my finger. He doesn't leave me, not for a second in the night. I couldn't find sleep, or sleep couldn't find me for the entire time the moon reined in the sky. I guess I'd had too much sleep recently anyway. They say its good for the skin, but I guess death is just not as refreshing, as my lips are dry and torn, and my skin only begins to return to a normal colour hours after my rebirth.
It's going to be a long, and I dare say bumpy road, but perhaps I can make it. I guess time will tell.
*
Sometimes I'm glad for my lack of sensation. The several million needles Janet keeps prodding me with don't hurt if you can't feel where she's sticking them. As days pass I feel nothing more than frustration and longing. I just want to get out of this bed, I am sick of staring at the ceiling, and I am sick of being spoken to like I am deaf. I'm not! I can hear perfectly well. No one means too, but it's like talking to someone with a different tongue, you automatically shout, thinking they will understand you if you raise your voice.
The worst frustration of all its not being able to speak, to tell Jack to go home and get some sleep, coz he's face is starting to sag and all the coffee he's been drinking has put him in a range of strange moods, and I'm not the only one its driving crazy.
They pump me full of drugs, hook me up to machines, run test after test, and I see that hopeful look in the nurses eye dieing the longer this goes on without change. I am beginning to get angry with myself. It's been a week now, and its so degrading not being able to even feed yourself. Being spoon feed by the people you love is something I never thought I would have to go through, not in my late 30's anyway.
"Hello beautiful" my eyes shift right as I hear a voice I recognise, one I haven't heard for a while.
"I turn my back for five minutes and look at the state you get yourself into!" I smile as dad pulls up a chair from near by and sits down. Taking my hand, is head stays low, hiding his face. He does that when he's upset. When I was 12 I had an accident, fell of my bike and got knocked unconscious. I woke up in a hospital bed with the same man before me, baring the same expression. Fear. Worry.
He rubs a hand over his face and looks up to meet my eyes.
"Selmac might be able to help. I've already talked to Gorge. I am going to try healing you." He sighs in anger "If Jack had come to me in the first place maybe we could have spared you this." He says. I am left not knowing what he means by that. He would have given up, talked Jack out of it and let his only daughter be laid to rest next to his wife, or he would have joined forces and somehow got a sarcophagus?
"Well, there's no time like the present I guess. I'll be back soon sweetie" he kisses me on the head and leaves in search of the healing device we keep on base. 10 minutes later Jack, Janet, and dad are gathered around my bed.
The glowing device is held above me and I feel the warmth as the beam runs over my skin and into my blood. Its feels good, I feel good. I feel the strength slowly return to me, and I can once again recognise my legs and arms. But as the beam moves higher, to my neck, a sudden pain, unlike any I have felt in a long time stings me. Still unable to scream, I scrunch my face up, and water fills my eyes as a reflex. My hands string into life, working once more and following my command telling them to push the healer away.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Janet checks all the machines I am plugged into, the cardiac monitor screaming high frequency bleeps as my heart races.
"I don't know" her voice has a note of panic in it. Noting the point of my pain, she turns to examine my neck.
"Oh my god!" That's not the best thing to say to your patient. I clench my fists as more pain moves through my neck, and I can feel something leech from the wound that had healed and is obviously now being split open again.
"What?" Jack almost shouts, moving to the other side of my bed to take a look. As soon as his eyes lock on it his face turns pale, he looks as though he's seen a ghost. "Jeez." Is the only word to leave his lips.
"Ok, I need to take a sample of this, and I want an x-ray, an EKG and an EEG, stat! Its ok Sam, you're going to be ok."
I wish people would stop saying that.
**
TBC
Oh, it so aint over yet!