Part 6
The grasp of a hand on his arm brought Jack into an abrupt and terrible reality. He writhed away from the touch, trying to put some distance between himself and the source of the pain, unfortunately the source seemed to be attached to him. All he managed to achieve was a few inches squirmed into the dust and a blast of agony that seared through every part of him, shoving the numbness back.
"I have found you."
He knew that voice, and opening his eyes, squinting in the light, he knew the face. The sudden clarity was terrifying. In a rush, it all returned – the torture, the questions, the demands. The escape.
Except he hadn't escaped.
The Inquisitor was here.
He had been found.
Something inside him that had stayed firm and strong all these years, endured countless indignities of body and soul, snapped.
Maybe it was as it should be.
There must be a time to give up and accept what you know is to come.
A time to stop fighting.
A time to accept fate.
"Do you repent?"
The pale face glowed eerily in the torch light, the almost black eyes piercing in their intensity.
Piled years of guilt crumbled and engulfed him, and his heart lurched in his chest, causing him to shudder.
The watching man smiled as the tremor shook him.
"Do not despair, the Lord will be merciful. I ask again, do you repent?"
The last shred of who he was made him shake his head.
"I will allow you more time. God has shown me the way, and I am his instrument of redemption." Jack could see the spit forming at the corners of the Pater's lips, as he raised something above his head.
"Repent!" The word was shot out along with the spit, as the heavy metal bar was driven down, hitting his right leg below the knee. The strength of the blow snapped the bone like a twig.
Jack couldn't help it. All dignity had left him. He screamed, the sound echoing off the tunnel walls.
"Do you now repent?"
Jack tried to answer, but the words would not come. All he could manage to do was to reach his good hand out in supplication.
The Pater leaned over him, his anticipation showing in the uplifted lips.
"You refuse, so I must send you to meet your judgement with your soul still stained by Satan. I will endeavour to give you time to reconsider as you make your journey to our Lord."
The words were a meaningless jumble, beyond Jack's ability to understand, until the torch was lowered.
His body reacted before his mind, ignoring its injuries to push up and away. But there was nowhere to go. His eyes tracked the flame as it touched his clothes, watched in stunned fascination as it grew. The licking heat mixed with his pain and grew until it became beyond his power to hold back the screams.
Fate had dealt him the hand he deserved.
He would burn in Hell.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Teal'c let the body fall to the ground, the danger from that source past and therefore no longer important. He looked swiftly around, noting that the fight was coming to an end with his companions victorious. He was beginning to move back to where Major Carter was bending over their teammate, when a movement at the edge of his vision caught his eye. He just managed to glimpse two figures disappearing into a patch of darkness before they vanished from view.
It only took a split second to make the decision to follow. The situation in the dungeon was under control, but O'Neill was still missing and the fleeing men might have useful information.
The doorway gaped open. Teal'c had no time to inform the others; already the gleam of the torches the men carried had disappeared around a distant corner. He ran forward, hoping to reduce the gap, planning to stay out of sight and follow until he knew exactly what the men were doing.
The dust blew up in clouds as he ran; already the air was thick with it. There were many branching tunnels, and he took care to remember the route, something his training allowed him to do without much effort. He took a right turn, realising that the passages branched more often in this section, and stopped, looking down. He had no way of knowing which direction the men had taken. There were three tunnels to choose from, and the tracks on the floor were scuffed and unreadable, making it impossible to deduce anything from them.
There was no choice. He had to decide.
He moved into the left hand tunnel, hoping he had made the right decision, his flashlight searching the darkness ahead of him.
When the tunnel opened out into a wider space, Teal'c knew he had guessed correctly. A small fire still glowed dully in the corner, a bed of straw nearby. There was evidence that someone had been cared for here, and recently, the bloodstained cloths on the floor having very little dust on them.
A plastic sample bag lay discarded beside an almost empty pot of water. Teal'c could only surmise that Colonel O'Neill had been the one cared for.
But there was no one here now.
He was turning to retrace his steps when a sound echoed through the passages, the cry of a tormented soul.
Teal'c took off running.
He had only gone a few yards when the screams began.
One false turn threw him off the trail, but the sounds pulled him forward. He raced around a corner, taking the scene in with a glance. Speeding forward, he backhanded the man in the black robes with all his strength, flinging him into the wall. The only other man took one look and fled, running back the way they had come.
Teal'c took no notice of them. O'Neill was on the ground, his clothes alight. His cries had stopped, but he appeared to be still aware, his eyes open and staring, one hand trying to beat out the fire licking at his face. Teal'c dropped his flashlight, and stripped off his vest and jacket, fingers fumbling to undo the fastenings. Finally he had the jacket in his hands, the few seconds it had taken seeming like hours, and wrapped it around the writhing figure, rolling him as he did so, depriving the flames of the oxygen they needed.
The fire was soon out, its hold having been tenuous at best. Teal'c reached for the discarded flashlight, and turned its light towards the Colonel.
O'Neill's clothes were blackened, in some places burnt away, exposing bloody, dirt-coated bandages. Fresh blood began to well up in a long lines across his chest as Teal'c watched. He knelt beside his commander, seeing his eyes beginning to close.
The sound of cloth on stone made him turn, raising his light. The robed man had regained his feet, his face terrified.
As Teal'c made to stand, he gave an anguished cry of, "Demon!" and, his robes flapping as he ran, disappeared down the tunnel and into the blackness.
"T?' The low voice halted Teal'c in his tracks. He knelt once more, taking the burnt hand held out to him carefully in a light grip.
"It is I, O'Neill. You are safe."
He barely saw the nod, before the other man's eyes closed once more. Teal'c bent and scooped him up, holding him as carefully as he could, cradled against his chest.
He retraced his steps, hurrying to take his friend back into the light.
Behind him, a small tongue of flame flashed its way across the floor.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Daniel fought his way back, forcing his eyes to open. He couldn't let himself sleep, there was something important he had to do. There were people all around him, some speaking urgently, others whispering – all sounded worried. Through it all one phrase stood out – 'Colonel O'Neill'.
Jack!
He had lost Jack.
The closest voice to him was one he would recognise anywhere. Managing to pry his lids apart slightly, he spotted the familiar figure standing with her back to him, a few feet away, speaking to someone else.
"Sam?" His throat was dry, but he didn't hold back, his voice loud enough to be heard over the confusion. Sam turned and came hurrying to his side.
"Daniel. Where's the Colonel?"
"Jack. You have to find Jack."
They both spoke at the same time, their words overlapping. Daniel saw the moment when Sam understood the implications of what he said; the flash of pain in her eyes and the slight slump in her shoulders.
"I lost him, Sam. In the tunnels."
"Tunnels? What tunnels?"
Daniel pointed over in the direction of the hidden door. "There. We hid in them, but they are like a labyrinth. Jack's still in there somewhere."
She had already begun to head for the dark corner he had indicated, calling Ferretti's name as she did so, when Daniel called out, stopping her.
"Jack's badly hurt, Sam. They tortured him. Find him quickly."
She nodded, as if what he said had been expected. "Don't worry, Daniel, we will."
He watched her gather in the others – Lou Ferretti and Gary Hartfell - saw the quick glances towards him, and then the rapid fire orders.
The last thing he saw before he shut his eyes was her back disappearing into the darkness, and he had the irrational, totally inappropriate thought.
"Go fetch."
He was losing it.
Completely.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Jack felt the bumps and turns. Felt the movement as if arcs of electricity were shooting through him. The numbness had definitely gone, leaving every nerve on fire.
Fire.
It danced before his eyes. Wavered and flickered in tune with the motion, as his memory held its form, remembered its touch.
Jack was held firmly, every part that was in contact with the man carrying him communicating his pain.
It was necessary. He knew that.
But it didn't make it any easier.
He endured, because he had to.
At last the motion stopped, and he heard voices.
Then they were off again, the sudden jolt startling him back into awareness.
The warmth of skin was replaced with the warmth of soft padding and he let his eyes open.
"Colonel?" Carter looking down at him, her hair shining in the light as if a halo about her head.
Couldn't be an angel. There was no angel for him.
Only damnation.
Damnation hurt as much as he had expected it should.
He opened his heart and let it in.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Lou Ferretti had seen Teal'c coming towards them soon after they had entered through the opening. As soon as he had confirmed Teal'c had the Colonel they had turned back, not bothering to offer to help carry. He knew the offer would be refused.
Lou couldn't help the gasp when they reached the light and saw Jack's condition. He had been shoved aside as Sam and the medic with SG-10 had taken over, gesturing to Teal'c to lay his burden down on a clear part of the stone floor. The misshapen shoulder was the most obvious injury. The whole arm was swollen, cold and clammy to the touch, especially in comparison to the heat radiating from everywhere else. It was hard to tell how bad the other injuries were, covered as they were by dirt, blood, and soot.
There were burns there as well, but they seemed, from what Lou could see over the bent shoulders, to be superficial, the worst on the Colonel's right hand.
"Sam? How is he?" Lou saw Daniel's head lift, as the other member of SG-1 tried to see what was happening.
"I don't know yet." Sam's voice was anxious and distracted. She pulled a thermometer strip from the first aid kit and took a quick reading, shaking her head at what she found. "His wounds are obviously infected." She exchanged a glance with the medic, and nodded, before the medic pressed a needle into the Colonel's right arm. "We've just given him a dose of morphine. That should keep him out until we reach the gate."
"Why are you helping him?"
Ferretti spun around, startled by the sudden question. Teal'c stood as well, staying close to Jack's side as if determined to protect him from further harm. Their prisoner was peering between the two airmen that had been set to guard him.
"He is a servant of the Devil, master of the demon. Why do you try to save his life?"
Ferretti saw red, his anger overtaking his common sense. He took several rapid steps towards the man, only stopping when he was less than a foot away from him.
"Because he is a good man, who doesn't deserve to die at the hands of bastards like you. You have blindly followed without questioning, without understanding, and now my friend is paying the price. You and your priest..." He spat the word out as if it was sour in his mouth, "you've taken all the goodness out of your faith and replaced it with bitter fruit. You've perverted God's teachings to feed your own hatred."
The man quailed back in the face of Ferretti's anger.
"I don't understand."
Lou rubbed a weary hand across his face, and took a breath, before continuing in a more controlled voice. "We are men just like you." He gestured over to where Daniel lay, propped up on one elbow, his face pale. "He is a scholar, a teacher – not a servant of an evil man." He pointed to Teal'c, to where the Jaffa stood, stiff and solid, standing over the man on the floor. "He is no more a demon than you or I. He is a good man. And she," he gestured to Sam, "is a woman of learning, who uses her knowledge to fight evil, not obey it."
Finally he looked at Jack, "He is their leader, you were right about that, but he is a great man, a good man. One that God would welcome with open arms. But that is my God – not the one that you have been taught to follow. My God is the God of love and forgiveness." He took another deep breath, and stepped back, realising that the room had gone completely quiet. "And because of that, I will try to understand why you did this, and try to forgive."
Lou felt something biting into the palm of his hand, and he looked down to see that he was holding his crucifix tightly. He tucked it back into his shirt, and turned away, a look of agreement echoing in the faces of those around him.
It was time to go home.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Pater Yleek had escaped down the tunnel, away from the demon. He knew that he couldn't go far without a torch, but he was also convinced that the Lord would save him.
He ran on, holding his hands stiff in front of him, warding off the rock walls, trying to move as swiftly as he could. The demon would be occupied with caring for his master for a time, but Yleek knew he would soon be pursued.
It was some minutes later that he noticed, with joy, that light had grown behind him, bathing the dark passage in an eerie glow. He felt a sense of elation, secure in the knowledge that he was in the hands of God.
His searching hands grazed the wall ahead of him, and he realised he had reached a dead end. His foot kicked against an object lying on the floor, and he bent, just able to make out the details in the soft light.
A mummified form, its papery, dry body dressed in a robe much like his own. Puzzled, he peered closer, the light reflecting off dust covered, dull metal.
A ring. A ring identical to the one he wore on his own hand. The mark of his office.
The dread grew in his heart as he began to doubt.
Turning, he started to walk back towards the light.
The rush of flame roared up the tunnel, feeding on the little oxygen as it went.
The Pater was dead before the flames reached him.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo