BURNING BRIGHTLY

Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate or its characters.

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SAM:

I'm sleeping, but I'm awake and screaming. I know there's someone out there and they have to hear me eventually.

I hope.

The darkness is total, complete. I can't see anything at all, which is the worst part because it means I have nothing to work with. I can feel something beneath me, a flat hard surface that stretches in every direction for as far as I can reach.

I can hear; someone says "There is something strange..."

The voice echoes as if off metal walls and distorts beyond recognition. I call out for them to hear me but there is no answer and all falls silent once more. The darkness is starting to get more than annoying.

"...about the substance in her bloodstream..."

"Hello?" I call. "Can anyone hear me?"

I've been imprisoned before, been in these situations before- but never have I ever felt so completely alone. Its as if its just me and the disembodied voice. Has the whole of whichever world I'm on been obliterated, leaving nothing but darkness and me?

"...I cant match it with anything I've ever seen before..."

It sounds strangely like Janet, but the voice is distorted enough that it could be anyone.

"Where am I?" I yell in frustration. "Why have you bought me here?" I hate that I can hear a thread of panic in my voice. I shouldn't be letting my emotions take control; I've been trained against that. I need to keep my head if I'm going to get out of here.

"...I need to run a few more tests..."

"Who's there? What do you want?"

Give me a response, give me something. Please.

"Samantha Carter."

My head snaps up towards the area the voice came from, but of course I can't see a thing. The voice sounds different now, as if its closer, and softer, deeper. I keep very still, though I know that's foolish- they know I'm here, there's no point pretending.

"Who are you?"


There is no answer. "Hello!" I shout to the darkness. "Hello? Who are you? Why am I here?"

"CARTER! GET DOWN!"

I whirl on Colonel O'Neill, my feet skidding on the damp undergrowth. I'm blinded by the sudden light, and a bright light flashes across my vision painfully, exploding against a nearby tree. I go down hard, grabbing for my gun.

"What the hell are you doing?!" O'Neill hisses from my left elbow, crouched behind a low shrub. "When I say stay low, its usually for a reason." he gripes.

"Sorry sir." I gasp, sighting my P-90 at the group of approaching Jaffa.

A noise from behind has us both scrambling around before Teal'c emerges from the bushes on his stomach, staff weapon at the ready. "There are four contingents of five, two to the left and one to the right, Colonel O'Neill. The last is directly behind us."

"Directly." Daniel adds, nodding. "As in directly. Right-" he points- "there."

"Right." O'Neill mutters. "Teal'c, Daniel, take the behind. Carter, right then join me left. Go."

I crawl awkwardly, trying not to make a sound. The damp ground soaks up through my uniform as I sight the five Jaffa down the hill. I fire two rounds and two go down. The others duck behind nearby trees and return fire. Zat blasts crackle over the tree trunks. I sight another and fire, missing him completely. I feel... strange. Somehow I've been here, in this moment, before. My mind works quickly. Could I be experiencing some sort of temporal anomaly? It's happened before. But that doesn't explain the transition between... wherever I was... and here.

I send the last three falling and scramble back towards Jack's position. I can hear Teal'c and Daniel's fire from behind as I drop beside the Colonel and aim.

"Is something wrong, Major?" he says, not taking his eyes off his targets.

"No sir." I reply automatically. "Well, yes, there is." I fire a burst that splinters tree bark but nothing else. "Sir? I was just in a dark room. Then I was here."

"Carter, that doesn't make a whole lot of sense. We've been pinned down by these Jaffa for close to two hours now, and if there was anything even resembling a room, dark or not, I think I would have noticed. Are you feeling alright?"

I look down towards the Jaffa. "No, sir." I say.

O'Neill sends the last of the Jaffa toppling. "Have Janet check you out when we get back."

"Sir-"

The forest fades to darkness and I feel cold hard floor again. "Sir?"

"Samantha Carter." The disembodied voice repeats.

"What's happening to me?" I whisper, then a jolt of blinding pain shoots up my leg. "Ah!" I gasp, clutching at it.

"Welcome."

I cant answer, it hurts too much. I grit my teeth and try to breathe.

"You are wondering where you are and why you are here. That is to be expected, as you did not enter the Ethera intentionally. We were unsure as to how to proceed, for we have never had such an encounter before." The voice goes on. "Forgive us."

"What is the Ethera?" I say between spasms of pain. "And how did I get here?"

"We have delved within your mind so that we may glean information with which to communicate with you. Forgive us, but it was necessary. The Ethera might best be described to you as the path to the other side. The road to the afterlife."

I close my eyes against the pain, curling up on the hard floor. The words echo until they fade, giving them time to sink in.

"No, wait!" I yell. "That doesn't make sense!"

Nothing but silence. "Hello?"

Will someone please... "Ah!" I pound the floor with my fist, feeling the cold metal thud beneath the blow. "IM NOT DYING!"

JACK:

"Her leg is fractured in three places, not a good sign. It's an automatic action for a passenger to reflexively tense the leg they would use to brake the vehicle in a situation like that. Having it in this position is what caused the breakage, and the resulting segmental fractures are angulated, meaning that the separate pieces of bone have shifted and rotated considerably. They will take time to heal, and she will be in a lot of pain. If all goes well, she will regain use of her leg, but it is possible that it will never heal entirely. She may be in pain for the rest of her life, and she may never recover the full use of her leg."


I stare at the leg in question. Its hidden by the blue blanket, elevated slightly but otherwise indistinguishable. We're all silent for a while after this, each of us thinking the same thing; Sam could end up wheelchair-bound. I don't even want to go down that path of thought, because the implications are too frightening. Instead I pick at a patch of flaking plaster on the wall and try not to listen to the silence. Eventually Hammond breaks it.

"I've contacted the Tok'ra. Jacob is being recalled from a mission and will be here within hours."

He says this authoritatively, but I know him well enough to be able to tell by the way he trails off that he is just as affected as the rest of us. Teal'c stands impassively. Daniel sits next to me on one of the plastic hospital chairs that are designed specifically to serve no purpose as far as comfort or aesthetics go. I continue to add to my little collection of plaster dust on the lino floor.

"Well, what about the Tok'ra?" Daniel says now, looking around pleadingly. "A symbiote can cure the host body, right? Right?"

Janet shakes her head. "Its possible, but we're not even sure if Sam will come out of the coma. There's really no way we can safely blend a symbiote with her as long as there's a chance she might progress to a persistent vegetative state."

The pile of white powder grows larger and looks like snow.

"A Tok'ra symbiote would not blend with her while she is unconscious, without her consent. It would be a violation of all that it means to be Tok'ra." Teal'c adds cheerfully.

"Not to mention Sam's feelings on the subject." I say. Everyone in the room turns to look at me. "That 'I'd rather not go through that again' thing." I mutter.

Everyone is silent for a long time and I go back to picking at the foundations.

"Is she in any immediate danger?" Hammond says eventually.

"Not as far as I can tell." Janet answers, glad for a change of subject. "The unidentified substance in her blood stream..."

"Could that have been caused by the Altheum drink we consumed on our recent mission?" Teal'c pipes up once more.

Janet nods. "Im guessing that's what it is. As I said earlier, I have to run more tests before I can be certain..."

"Is it harmful?"

'No. Well, yes. Coma's are caused by numerous things, including disease, seizures, metabolic disturbances, tumours, or head injury. The last is what we would normally associate Sam's state of unconsciousness with. However, tests and an MRI scan revealed nothing unusual- no swelling or evidence of trauma on the brain. Its possible that the coma was induced by shock, but the thing that strikes me as odd about this substance is that her heart rate and respiratory system has slowed to a point where she is being kept alive without life support, but not interfering enough to cause any problems. Its as if she's simply - sleeping. It seems to be regulating her systems and keeping her under, but not harming her. Whether the higher-than-usual brain activity is a by-product of that or not is something I'm still not sure of."

"So you're saying... that drink is helping her?" Daniel stands, crossing his arms and looking thoughtful. "What if we were to get more of it? Could it heal her?"

Janet shakes her head. "It's not helping her. It might be what kept her alive until we got to the scene of the crash, and what's kept her systems from registering any of the trauma her body's been through, but I don't know what's in the drink yet or why it has such a potent effect on the consumer. I doubt that giving her more would help; it might even reduce the effect of the substance already in her bloodstream. I doubt it would bring her out of the coma, and I would hesitate to add any more of an unknown substance to her system."

"The toast." Daniel says, earning even more of an all-round stare-fest than I did. Teal'c quirks his eyebrow.

"Was your breakfast unsatisfactory, DanielJackson?"

No one, and I repeat NO ONE, appreciates a comedian.

"No, no, no." he says, looking excited. "Remember the toast, before drinking that... that whatever it was? 'Refne shcla de ne direshda.'"

"May your spirit be guided on the right path." Teal'c translates.

"Yes and no." Daniel flutters his hand, unable to get the words out fast enough. "Well, that's one translation. But the words can have different meanings, or levels of meaning. I remember asking Father Nahibrim about it. This drink is ceremonial, and it has a similar effect on our physiology as it does on the Frevians. Taken in sufficient quantities by the Frevian priests while they are in a trance allows them to tread the paths of the 'spirit'... well, what they believe to be the afterlife. It is a ritual of acknowledgement and recognition, a sacred rite. At least," he frowns, "that's what I think he said. I was a little, um, fuzzy by that point..."

"But we didn't drink a whole lot." I say.

"Right! Right. So, taken in lesser quantities it has a similar effect to alcohol. Because we didn't enter any trance, the substance merely left our bodies. But Sam..."

"Still had some in her system." Janet finishes, realisation dawning on her face.

"Wait, wait, wait." Slow down here. "You're telling me that because she still had the drink in her system when she was knocked unconscious, the stuff thinks she's in some kinda TRANCE?" Whoa. "So its keeping her there and she's supposed to be communing with the dead?"

Not good. Not good at all.

"This would explain the high levels of brain activity."

No way. There is no way in hell my 2IC is lying there in a coma, visiting the afterlife. A lot of weird shit has happened to us over the years. But there is no friggin' way. Ya hear me? "So your saying there's such a thing?" I interject.

"Well, no. As I've said before, there's no proof of there being an afterlife, for obvious reasons." Daniel frowns.

Janet cuts him off. "It may be that the substance merely produces a hallucinogenic reaction within the brain itself. The result would still be the same. The person would believe that what they see is real, and the brainwaves would reflect that."

"Or... not." Daniel goes on. "The afterlife seems to be a belief that has evolved in countless cultures of its own accord. Across hundreds of planets, we've encountered species that..."

"Daniel." I warn him. "Don't even think about it."

Hammond sends his calm gaze out across the room. "Jacob Carter arrives in four hours. I'm giving SG-1 permission to return to P3X 925 as soon as he's cleared. That should give you enough time to prepare."

"Sir, Colonel O'Neill isn't leaving this hospital." Doctor Fraiser, the five-foot terror says with finality. "Not for another two days at the very LEAST."

See, the thing about the Air Force is that rank and superiority are awarded through a system of merit that rewards intellect and achievement. That gives someone half my size with dictatorial tendencies the ability to make things difficult every chance she gets and still get paid.

"Very well." Hammond accedes. "Teal'c, you and Doctor Jackson will return to Frevia Four. I'm sure that with our treaty in place they will be willing to help."

"Sir," I stand up, the disturbance of air in my wake scattering my plaster-dust pile to smithereens.

Hammond fixes me with a classic 'no-go, Jack ole buddy' look and says "You'll remain here, Colonel O'Neill, and that's an order, do you hear?"

"Sir, I would like very much to accompany-"

"An ORDER, Colonel. Do you want me to have you restrained?"

I know he's not serious, but its hard to miss the excited gleam that springs to Janet's eyes at the idea.

DANIEL:


Its hard not to feel sorry for Jack. Janet is enjoying having him under her control a little too much, and I know exactly what that's like. But I also understand the reason for her concern. After all, Jack was very nearly killed and that can lead to a lot of problems. I know he's feeling guilt over what happened, because its what I would be feeling. Its what everyone feels when someone close to the is hurt.

But it would be abso-positively-lutely not a good idea to have him go off-world in that frame of mind. Knowing Jack diplomacy would be the first thing to go out the window, probably followed by a Frevian diplomat or two, given that their suspicions and formalities are likely to take time, if the negotiations for the treaty are anything to go by. He's likely to start waving his gun around to get things done more quickly... which in this case would mean they won't get done at all.

Janet leads him out of the room, saying he needs more rest. I look at Teal'c and Hammond, and down at Sam, wondering at what we've just hypothesized.

"The driver of the other vehicle died this morning." Hammond says.

I look up in shock. "He died?"

I see the poor guy in my mind. Teal'c and I went to see him last night. The nurse had showed us in dispassionately.

"Oh, my God," I had murmured at the sight of what was left of the man. The nurse had explained that the only thing keeping him alive was life support. I had turned away, unable to look, because all I could think of was the horribly selfish thought that THAT COULD HAVE BEEN JACK OR SAM. Bloodstained bandages and compresses did nothing to disguise the wounds, which had covered his entire face and most of his body below the blankets. A mutilated wreck of a man who should have been a living, breathing, walking, talking individual reduced to smashed bones and first degree burns. I had excused myself and run to the bathroom, locking myself in a cubicle and having a serious shaking fit, in which I admit some tears were involved. It had been a few minutes before I could stand, and when I could I still couldn't leave because I was so sick at myself for being so glad that it was someone I didn't know, had never met, that was lying there dying, rather than my friends- even though Sam was in a close enough position.

Hammond nods. "Jack will need to know eventually." he says. "But lets leave it for a while."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. There's a mission to prepare for. I need to go throw a few things together. I need to get back to the base... I need to go talk to Jack.

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He looks up miserably at me as I sit down on his bed.

"Daniel, I need to go to P3X 925 with you."


"I cant override the doctors, Jack. And I'm not sure I would even if I could. You're still feeling the effects, and you should..."

He shakes his head. "No, you don't understand. There's... a complication with the treaty. I'm going to be needed."

He catches my attention with that. "What kind of complication?"

In typical Jack fashion, he gives me a withering look. "The complication is complicated. Just get Hammond to let me come with you. He listens to you"

"Jack," I say gently, then sharpen. "He doesn't listen to me. I'm the civilian consultant; a nuisance at best, and a pain in the rear at worst... but wait, that's not the point."

"He listens to you." he insists. "Please. You have to do this. I need to go on that mission. I... I need to do something to help, Goddamit! I'm gonna go loopy if I stay here. And Janet..."

Even I shiver at the implied torture. I sigh. "I- I'll speak to Hammond, okay? But I don't think he's going to back down on this one."

"Neither am I." Jack replies firmly.

JACK:

Daniel doesn't understand. I know exactly why I'm gonna be needed on this mission. But I know he will talk to Hammond for me, and Hammond will listen to him because he always does. The general has a major soft spot for him. Daniel gets allowances where the rest of us don't. I'm just hoping this is one of them.

I lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling for a while before the whiteness starts to drift and swim before my eyes. Lord, I'm tired and I hurt. I don't want to sleep but I don't think I've got a choice here.

I hate it when Janet is right.

~*~~*~~*~~*~

Jacob has been, and gone; by force, of course, because he wouldn't leave Sam's side for a moment since he got here and even then they had to practically use surgery to get him out of the room. Selmak managed to offer a few tidbits of Tok'ra wisdom that only served to confirm Teal'c's earlier assertions. I managed to restrain myself from yelling at the top of my lungs for everyone to stop discussing my 2ICs life as if she wasn't in the room, which was pretty stupid, I admit, even for me, because essentially she wasn't in the room.

My head hurts.

I, of course, thanks to Janet am a patient; thus I cannot be removed from the hospital. I'm grateful for that because as soon as no one is watching I'm - whoosh - straight down the corridor and sitting in a dark room with my aching head and a strand of short blond hair catching the light from the hall.

"Hey, Sam." I say softly. "How you doing?"

I hope to God she's not in any pain. My thoughts involuntarily return to Janet's words earlier. Sam losing mobility in her leg could see her wheelchair-bound. And that's if she manages to get out of this at all.

I've seen death. Had full on face-to-face conferences with it, sat down and talked it out, chatted politely and shook hands goodbye, see you next time round. Truth is, I'm not afraid to die; and I don't even have the comfort of believing in Daniel's afterlives. I've got no problem with death if it cant be avoided... but that's my own death. Its other people dying on me that I don't like.

People I care about.

Daniel has been talking to Hammond for over three hours now, effectively delaying the mission - our mission - departure until the morning. I know he's trying his damnedest and for Hammond to have listened to him for this long rather than dismissing him outright suggests that he is getting somewhere. The measured look Hammond gave me before he allowed Daniel to speak to him said it all.

Hammond knows.

Hammond is able to admit it more freely than I am, for God's sake.

"You were going to come fishing with me," I speak to Sam. "Right? You were going to say yes. Seems like every damn time I try to get you to come with me something happens. Is that what this is? Some sort of cruel cosmic justice thing or something?" I've seen the cosmos, too. I've seen it and I pissed it off somehow, possibly with all those chicken jokes that annoy people so much. Then it got together with all its mates and decided that its 'get even with O'Neill' time.

My head hurts a LOT.

"You know what? This - this is wrong. This isn't meant to be happening. Its not the way its supposed to work, dammit! And you know what really gets me? There's some alternate reality out there where this didn't happen. Why isn't that the right thing? Why is THIS the right thing?" I stand up and pace. "In all those alternate realities... In all those universes where you never joined the military, where you and me- we're engaged, or,..."

I'm not even making sense anymore. I blame it on my head, which feels as if something crawled in there and died. Those alternate realities also feature some unpleasant aspects, I remind myself. Teal'c is still serving the snakes and 'Jaffa! Kree'- ing in at least one. Daniel is dead in a lot of them. I'm dead in even more, which frankly sucks. And, though I might be mistaken, (Daniel was flicking through the mirror addresses pretty fast,) some feature inhabitants that resemble...

No. No universe could possibly have evolved creatures that look exactly like fifteen-foot tall white rabbits, let alone allowed them the capacity to wield tennis racquets.

"...or married... and..." I sigh heavily, seeing again my 2IC the equivalent of drunk and kissing that senator in the hallway. "And I wish that was me. Us." There, I've said it. Onya, O'Neill, its good to finally get that off your chest, isn't it? Yeah, that's me alright. I can finally say it right when she cant hear it.

I sit back down and slump pathetically, watching her closed eyes. Her face is still peaceful. Just like she's just asleep, and even in the half darkness, deathly pale and hooked up to machines and in some sort of drug-induced state of unconsciousness, she looks so beautiful. I reach out a hand and touch her cheek, gently running a finger across her smooth skin. Its something I won't ever be able to do without a catch, I think. Not without time loops, or alternate selves, or... my effectively nearly killing her.

I take her limp hand again and squeeze her fingers gently, curling mine around them. I bend my head down and press her hand to my own cheek.

"Don't die, Sam." I whisper. "Don't you dare die."

SAM:

A whisper. "Don't die, Sam. Don't you dare die."

It sounds... sounds like Jack. But it's not because he's not here and it hurts to much and I'm still screaming IM NOT DYING IM NOT DYING IM NOT DYING IM NOT...

Only I think I am.

I'm standing in my work lab, face-mask pulled down and shading everything red, like blood, (I remember blood. It came with the pain, but left before the pain did. I closed my eyes so I couldn't see it, but I couldn't close out the pain.)

"You know, you should take a break."

I switch off the reactor and turn around, lifting the face mask.

"You've been at that all night." Jack says, pointing past me. "We leave early tomorrow. I want you to get a minimum of four hours sleep tonight."

"Is that an order, sir?" I say, setting my tools aside and pulling off my gloves to look at my watch, realising that its close to midnight.

"No," he admits, leaning in the doorway, silhouetted by the dimmed lights in the hallway. "Its advice. You know, as in four hours could make all the difference between living through the day and getting shot by a Jaffa, or getting captured by a snake, or whoever we manage to piss off this time..."

I dip my head to hide my grin. "Yes sir."

"You wanna grab a coffee or something?" he waves his arm in the vague direction of the mess hall.

"Thanks, but I think I'll get some rest." I say, moving to step past him - only he doesn't move. I manage to stop my forward motion, teetering on the brink of touching him. Standing far too close, here in the doorway. I'm trapped and so is he. I make to move past again and he mirrors me, so that I have to stop and stand there because if I don't I'm going to touch him - and I cant touch him. Cant touch, even though he is just a hairs width away and I can smell his aftershave faintly. That thing that we cant admit burning brightly in my mind, and when I look up, burning in his eyes, too. I panic and duck my head again. Far too close.

It only takes a second to sidestep and I'm out into the corridor. "Goodnight sir," I say.

"Night, Carter." he answers cheerfully.

Night Carter... echoes softly through my repeated yelling, my throat now too sore to keep it up.

"Hey!" I call. "HEY! Where are you? Why are you doing this to me? I want to leave, now. Do you hear? Let me go!"

"You are not a prisoner, Samantha." The soft voice returns from the darkness.

"It's starting to damn well feel like it!" I shout. "Why are you doing this? What's going on?"

"We are doing what we are meant to do. Our task is to commune with those who walk the road to the afterlife. That is where you are."

Everything I've ever learnt about science calls out to me that he is speaking rubbish; everything that I have learnt in the past few years on the Stargate project tells me that nothing is impossible. "Well," I say at last, relieved that at least the pain in my leg has subsided. "Tell me how to get out of this place."

"We cannot." the voice replies.

"Why not?"

"You must leave of your own accord. We are merely the guardians."

"I want to leave." I say.

"You can leave whenever you are ready. Until then, you must stay."

"I'm ready!"

"If you were, you would not still be here."

"You say that I'm here by accident," I say. "How can I know if I'm ready if I don't even know why I was brought here? This isn't making any sense!

"Not an accident. Unexpected, and unintentional on your part, yes; but nothing happens by accident. Perhaps this inability to leave is the reason you are here. One must achieve a state of acknowledgement, of recognition, of acceptance, before one can leave. Those who usually come understand this and are lacking in fulfilment, but are ready to accept and face what bought them on this journey in the first place. Something brought you here, and this something must be resolved, acknowledged, before you can continue your journey."

"Well, then, what is it?" I say, the pain in my leg building once more. "What am I supposed to do?"

"We are merely the guardians. The resolution and acceptance must be born of your own heart and mind, but we can help and guide you in this quest. We have been trying to learn more of you so that we may do so. Forgive the intrusion, but we have been touching your thoughts and memories in hope that we might better understand how to help you."

"Then what happens if I don't... resolve... whatever spiritual problems I've got?" The words taste strange in my mouth.

"You stand on the road to the afterlife. There are only two directions in which to step." a slight pause. "If one way is barred to you, the only alternative is the other."

"I'm going to die," I whisper, and again my mind screams. IM NOT DYING!

I take a deep breath. There is only one thing to do. I've got something to work with; all I need is a starting point. I have to do everything I can to find a way out of here. One things for sure:

I'm not going down without a fight.

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A nice little cheerful chapter there, hope you enjoyed it. Stay tuned!

~*IzureAngel*~