NOTES : Dream sequences are in italics; regular speech is in "double quotes", Morse code is in 'single quotes'
The grass was cool, moist. She licked her lips in anticipation. The scent had come to her first. Her belly was empty, she was hungry, so hungry. She'd hunted all night without luck. Her only cub had trailed her, mewling pitifully, jumping at her, biting and clawing. Like her last kill, she, too, was now far behind.
She circled through the trees. This was her chance; at least twenty deer filled the clearing. It was nearly dawn and she knew she had to act soon before they came fully awake. Their tails were down, there was no stamping of feet; they hadn't seen her. Yet.
It was almost too quiet. She crawled low, right to the edge. The big stag, forty inches to the head, his antlers another thirty, stood guard. He hadn't seen her, but slowly his head turned, and for the smallest fraction of a heartbeat he scowled directly at her. She leapt as he turned. He was too slow, too late. Huge claws struck his sleek fur, raking it open. She brought him down, his throat wide open to the joy of her jaws biting deep.
Her head hit the pillow. Sam shivered as her hand fell open, empty. A sharp pain filled her mouth where she'd bit her tongue. She wanted to shout, but knew that she mustn't. She wanted to strike out, but knew that she daren't.
She'd tried to assert her independence, to not be in constant contact with someone. Anyone. She wasn't a child, she didn't want her hand holding, but after a minute she'd get the worst case of vertigo, and imagine herself falling out of the void. Only a minute, and her stomach would cramp up, her legs would begin to ache and start to twitch, her head would spin and she'd be holding her breath, trying so very hard not to scream, falling, hands clawing, nails raking at thin air unless someone was unlucky enough to get in the way.
But someone would be there to catch her, pacify her. Always it was a soothing, calming touch and she imagined them saying "hush now" as if she was a baby. They didn't like to hear her scream; she'd learnt that quickly. She didn't want the attention. Being fed, being washed, being bed-ridden and the self-consciousness which came with the prodding and probing and bodily functions.
The nurse had assured her that she wouldn't leave her alone.
'hey sam'
'hey doc' Sam tapped out, regaining her self, surprising Janet with the strength of her grip. 'you going to tell me now' Sam asked.
'sam do you remember your dreams'
'no'
'the last one'
'no'
'certain' Janet persisted.
'no' Sam's smile had gone, and her grip on Janet's hand was becoming painful. 'u going to tell me now' Sam asked again.
'yes' Janet tapped out slowly.
Sam settled back patiently as Janet began telling her all the medical detail that wouldn't upset her. Finally she got to the hard part. Janet looked up at the observation room, where the General was watching and listening to her commentary as she spelled out all that she knew. He nodded once, and Janet took a deep breath.
'we think you died' she tapped out, and waited for Sam's reaction. The machines didn't miss a beat, didn't change a tone. 'and brain function ceased' Janet waited.
'when'
'in our time frame' Janet paused as her own heart skipped a beat. She looked again to the General. 'before' she tapped out, not knowing what to expect.
Sam nodded, turned her head to where she imagined Janet would see her most clearly, and smiled, squeezing Janet's hand reassuringly. 'yes' Sam tapped. 'of course'
'you knew'
'guessed'
'it means' Janet began.
'i know' Sam laughed and Janet flinched. 'sorry' she tapped out. 'janet' Sam began, turning her head to look towards the observation room. 'i sense when you talk room empty. no secrets.'
'okay'
"Are you sure, Doctor?" The General's voice came through the speakers far too loud.
"No, Sir. But what other choices do we have? So far we've been fighting this separately. We might get further if we cooperate."
"Very well, Doctor."
'the whole truth' Sam tapped.
'you first' Janet asked.
Sam closed her eyes. 'i feel' she shook her head 'alone. very much alone.'
'how'
'its dark janet. dark and quiet. no pain no light no noise.' Sam paused. 'no happiness no sadness no time no morning no afternoon. no one.
'always night
'do you know what dark is janet. turn the lights out close your eyes. you think thats dark. ever been blindfolded. thats not dark. ever done sense dep. ever sat shut in a tank of luke warm water with nothing but your thoughts. thats not dark. close your eyes janet. ask general to turn out lights. serious. do it.' Sam waited, relaxing her grip on Janet's hand until just the tips of their fingers touched. 'what do you see janet. tell me what you see. squeeze your eyes shut. really squeeze. is that dark. tell me.'
Hammond looked on in the glow of the monitors, listening to the Doctor repeating Major Carter's words, becoming more uncomfortable as the seconds passed. Sam appeared relaxed but the Doctor was closer, her distress obvious in her posture and the tone of her voice.
'tell me janet.'
'see images shapes random motes flicker'
'do you hear noise of machines. hear the hum. hear the creaks. do you hear the vibrations of the base. do you hear yourself breathe. do you hear the blood in your temples. do you hear all that.' Sam paused, took Janet's hand in hers. 'do you see my heart beat janet. do you see it. do you see my brain pattern on your monitors. do you know what it means.'
Janet opened her eyes, looked at the monitors. Sam's blood pressure had increased marginally, her heart was beating only slightly faster, brain activity was normal.
'do you know what black is janet. find something black. look at it. look. can you see it. can you really see it. stare at it janet. focus on it. really focus.' Sam slowly increased her grip on Janet's hand, holding it firm, tight, gently tapping out the words with a finger.
'can you see it janet. out of the corner of your eye can you see it. look at it janet. so black janet. do you see it move. do you see it crawl. watch it janet. watch it crawl across your face. feel it. feel the itch of it crawl across your eyes under your eyelids. so black. is it there. is it real.' Sam squeezed on Janet's hand.
'can you hear it janet. can you hear it speak to you. its all around you janet. all around you. nothing else. nothing. black. can you see it. can you feel it. can you hear it.' Sam hoped the lights were still out. 'close your eyes for me janet.' Sam closed her eyes although it didn't matter, breathing in slowly, holding it, breathing out, counting each breath. At twenty she squeezed Janet's hand as hard as she could.
"Do you have an idea, now, Janet?" she asked out loud. "Of what it's like not seeing, not hearing, not knowing. Do you know fear?" Sam asked, letting go of Janet's hand, leaving them both abandoned with the full effect of the horror of her voice ringing in Janet's ears.
Sam made herself relax, holding her hand open for someone to take it, oblivious to the pandemonium all about her.
She didn't hear Janet's stifled cry or see the General stagger, fumbling to shut off the intercom and only succeeding when it was already too late. She didn't see the lights suddenly blaze to bright white, half-blinding everyone in the process. She didn't see the doctor lose her composure or hear her abandoned chair fall as as she ran in a blind panic, nor the surprise of the airmen standing guard outside. She didn't hear the General curse or see Colonel O'Neill standing in the open doorway, utter despair etched clear on his face.
Sam waited quietly, breathing easily, staring with vacant eyes at nothing, plain for everyone to see.
Bones bleached white under a hot sun lay whole at her feet in the emerald grass. A skeleton, complete, human, male. She'd known him, she was certain, perhaps she'd even loved him. He'd guided her, shown her... something... a thing just beyond her reach... her heart leapt at the joy she was sure he'd brought her... she wanted to embrace him but his skull stared back at her, pleading with her, imploring her to... to...
Sam lay still, trying to breathe easily, waiting, waiting, patiently for someone to come along to take hold of her hand, to tell her that she was safe, that nothing was wrong, that she'd just had another dream, that they were doing everything they could but that it would take time.
Time was the least of her worries. She had plenty of time. She'd seen enough, done enough, to know how lucky she was still to be alive. Time was when she'd won her father's approval, when she'd followed him into the Air Force; when she'd graduated, when she saw action in the gulf and the end of one tour of duty after another. She'd truly learned how to walk before she'd learned to fly.
But how she'd flown!
And now she was more than blind. All they had was questions and more questions, more than they had a right to ask, detail greater than they ever needed to know.
She knew what it was to live, to be alive, to feel with every fiber of her being. Everything she did was because she had to. Not out of duty, or false loyalty, or because she was brave and fearless, but because it was there to be done.
She knew what it was to die. The pain, the emptiness, the hollow ache in her gut, the gaping wound in her spirit. Jolinar was inside her, but even he now was silent.
She waited, empty, hungry. She was a pincushion.
They took, took, took.
They took her temperature, her fluids, her blood, her vitals. Electrodes itched at her scalp, her skin. Hands held her, prodded, probed her.
They took her memories, her thoughts, her feelings. They explored her body, her mind, her soul. Her life was laid bare before them and she could do nothing.
"Who are you?" The old man sat amongst the flowers, cross-legged on the grass, head bent, wilting under the heat of the white sun. "Who are you that you disturb my meditation? Who are you that you bring your chaotic thoughts into this garden?" His voice was gentle yet commanded Sam's respect.
"Master —" Sam started.
She didn't get a chance to finish; the old man held up a shaky hand. "It does not concern me, but that you should not be here," he said. "You should not be here," he said again, but with the warmth of recognition, or perhaps something deeper. "You must know that, child."
"But, Master —"
"Hush, child. Come, sit with me for a while. Let me look at you again."
Sam nodded, doing as he bidded. She knew how the Master valued his solitude, how much he disliked being disturbed. She knew how precious time was to him; even after all the years that had passed him by.
He smiled as Sam sat in front of him. "You have not changed, and still I sit here dreaming my empty dreams." Sam bowed her head as he reached out a trembling hand, great brown spots covering skin that had creased and withered with his great age. But his touch... Sam sighed as his hand barely grazed her cheek, as his warmth and love filled her.
"Ah, child, still your presence fills my heart, as it fills me with fear and dread. Why do you haunt me so? Is it not enough for you to see me like this, so tired, so weak?"
Faster than Sam could move or even see, his hand darted down, grabbed hers, holding it in a grip that she knew would break it if she moved.
"You forget your lessons, child." A second hand snaked out, caught her other wrist. "Did I not teach you well enough? Did you learn nothing from me, or have you..." his voice trailed off, trembling. Slowly he relaxed his grip, let his hands fall to his side, raised his head to meet Sam's own gaze. "You have been there, you have walked it. I can see the blood on your spirit, the death on your soul. That way is not yours."
"Yes, Master, I have been there; but I have not forgotten." Sam reached out slowly to take his hands in hers. "How can I forget what you have yet to teach me."
The old man's eyeless face stared at her, through her. "It is true, then." He regarded her fondly, his face grim. "My time on this world is almost over."
"Yes, Master." Sam couldn't stop the tears escaping her eyes. "They come, Master. Very soon, they will come. Oma —"
"I will not go!" He almost shouted. "I cannot. That place is forbidden to me! Oma and her kind despise me. I will never walk there. This is the end, child."
"No, Master. That is why I am here. Oma was wrong; you will die. She will tempt you; you must not go to her. You must wait, be patient. The Harsesis Child will live. He will change forever the way beyond."
"The Harsesis Child will never be born," he laughed. "Now I know that you are a ghost, a delusion." The old man smiled. "No one hears you but me. No one sees you, my fabled warrior with the golden hair. I am old, my mind no longer has the strength it once did. You are a dream, child."
"Yes, Master, I am a dream." Sam stood. "But you will rise again. You will walk the way beyond, you will live again striding the stars." The old man's head dropped. "Sleep well, Master."
Sam collapsed back into the cot beneath her. For a heartbeat she wanted to panic but a firm reassuring squeeze of her hand brought her back to the present.
Whenever that was.
Her sleep pattern had become so irregular, she had no idea whether it was day or night. She recognized the Colonel's light touch, but that didn't mean anything; he sat with her more than anyone else, and she suspected he only left the infirmary when Janet ordered him out so that she could do the more intrusive tests.
At least, she hoped he wasn't around.
But it was so comforting when he was. Slowly she let the tension out of her body and was almost relaxed when his hand began to slip from hers. Pure reflex made her clutch at his fingers.
She felt Jack's frustration. His strong fingers held hers so gently she knew when his mind wandered, when he would caress the palm of her hand and her heart would start to beat that little bit faster. And if it got too fast... It wasn't easy being deaf and blind with a fertile imagination and a body that wanted... Sam cut off the thought and gave Jack's hand a firm squeeze. She didn't want the alarms on Janet's machines to go off, she'd didn't want anyone to see the increased respiration and demand an answer that she couldn't give.
And it was 'Jack' now. She'd started by tapping out 'colonel', but that was too long; then she'd tapped 'sir', and Jack had slapped her down; metaphorically and with weak humor, of course. What had happened to her hadn't been on his watch. She was off duty; he wasn't directly responsible, but he still couldn't accept that it wasn't his fault.
At a second touch Sam opened her right hand, accepting the newcomer without fear or question. And with it came peace, tranquility and more love than she ever dared hope to expect from anyone. Sam closed her eyes, aware of the reflex but submerging herself in the joy flooding her heart and mind.
The snake gazed through obsidian eyes filled with stars deep into her soul. More than a snake, its head, so dark, swayed close to hers, its mouth wide, teeth sharp.
Soft lips caressed hers, loving and tender, a dream she never had but now so desperately wanted cascaded through her body. Sam knew that she wasn't alone, that she'd never be alone, that she would soon be whole and so very much alive. She smiled as her lips parted, responding to the touch, to the longing before she even began to wonder.
Sam knew him.
She shivered in the cold night air, the whole of her body trembling with a desire that she hadn't known existed inside her. Everything around her was at peace; the trees were quiet, the water was still; even the flowers, their fragrance so bright during the day, were asleep for the night.
The snake reared up, looming over her, its scales glistening a rainbow of colors. "Have I found you, my love?" he spoke directly into her mind. "After so much time, after so much hope, after so much despair, is it truly you?" he asked, his words cutting deeper than her worst fears, soaring higher than her greatest hopes.
Sam knew she loved him.
The air above her rippled, thickened, coalesced. A second serpents's head loomed over her, swam closer, held its cheek next to hers. She knew she was alive with him, for him, because of him, and that everything that had gone before was nothing, that his was the key that would unlock her soul.
The serpent hovered about her face, lingered over her body, watching, waiting as she slept easily beneath the stars, knowing that his time would soon come.
Slowly, Sam smiled. She knew she'd remember nothing when she woke, but the truth of him would be in her heart to guide her when she did.
Together theirs would be the future and nothing could stand in their way.