DARK EMBRACE CHAPTER SEVEN
It was day four and the swelling on the left side of his face had reached its maximum and was now starting to subside. The lacerations and his chest wounds were tolerable, the weakness was not. He bore the indignity of being fed through an IV but he was going to have to get used to a liquid diet Jack had hit a level of apathy. He didn't care if he got better fast, it didn't matter. Every time he fell asleep the stalking eidolons of murdered children invaded and disintegrated any possibility of peace. On more than one occasion he had been torn for sleep by the ramped up keening of his own anguish erupting from his shredded throat. Each time he would fall back into the ebon pit to the echoing voice of the Goa'uld saying over and over that he was hers, forever, and the taste of blood on his lips.
Daniel had visited and presented his findings, with Teal'c hovering in the background. He was not told anything he didn't already know, other than the Goa'uld bitch now had a name, Camazotz. Teal'c did not elaborate but did explain how even to the other system lords Camazotz was found to be pariah for her unnatural hungers. This provided no comfort. Jack found, regardless of his inability to talk, that there was nothing to say, smart assed or otherwise. There was nothing he was willing to discuss. The usually kinetic Colonel was static, laying the good side of his face half buried in a pillow, marginally responsive to his environment.
Janet and those of her medical team who had been around had seen this before after the black hole incident, the death of SG10 and Colonel Cromwell. Too many ghosts and millstones of guilt had tossed the Colonel into the depths of depression. More burdens, more crosses, Jack had found placed upon his broad shoulders by circumstances and his own self-imposing.
Carter was conspicuous by her absence. Though when she thought no one was watching she would steal down from her lab and hover. If she approached the Colonel it was when he was asleep. Once she was present while he dreaming. He had muttered her name in agony, followed by the repeated uttering of the word no even lashing out, nearly pulling out the IV's, desperate to fend off remembered attacks on his throat. Carter had slunk off silently smothered in rejection.
Nothing Daniel said could elicit a response from him. He had nothing to give. He was tired, drained, a battery running low. Janet had been patient but decided to slip him a tranquilizer to help him sleep. Half a milligram of Ativan in his IV and perhaps, he would get some real healing sleep.
Her plan worked for a few hours and then the drug wore off and the haunting returned. CJ had made herself a shadow in the background, a sentry watching and waiting for the fissures to appear in the defensive walls. Jack was thrashing about the bed as if seizing, sweat soaking the sheets under him. CJ was there, mopping his brow, whispering softly.
"Its over Airman, your mission is over. No more threat."
Jack woke to the soothing sensation of a cold compress on his face. He opened his one good eye and looked into a face that seemed familiar. A face he'd seen before with that same look of cultivated professional compassion.
"Hurt you?" He asked remembering a dark room, pain and lashing out at someone, thinking it was Camazotz but it had only been Carter. That was the chaos. The voice that had seduced him had been Carter's, even though he knew better now, even though he had heard the Goa'uld timbered voice later from the same entity. Somehow she had used his own private thoughts and desires against him, the illusion had been of his own making. He had to make the distinction.
"You weren't exactly yourself, sir." CJ smiled.
"Airman?" He tried to smile but only one side of his face responded. The trauma to the infraorbital nerve had caused some temporary paralysis to his cheek muscles.
"Yes, well flashbacks don't care about ranks sir."
Jack tried to smile but it hurt.
"Hurt you?" He asked again taking her bandaged right hand, it was both a way to get her to answer and an apology.
"The stitches will be coming out in a week. Don't worry about it sir, it's part of the job."
"So, back with us again, Colonel?" Janet asked stepping into the room. She received a reassuring nod from CJ who knew it was time for her to leave.
"Think you're up for a trip to the Academy Hospital? We need to have a specialist look at your face and see if you're going to need surgical intervention. You may have to have your jaws wired shut for a few weeks."
Jack flashed her look of absolute shock.
"No Fruit loops and you'll be eating your steak through a straw. That's the worse case scenario. If you think you are up to it I can get an orderly to get a wheelchair and help you get dressed."
"Dress myself." He hissed struggling to sit up. He lifted his left arm to her indicating the IV's. Janet smiled and began to disengage the tubes and needles.
"I thought you would, I'll get your uniform." The Chief Medical Officer took his right hand "Are you sure about this?" her tone now that of a friend. Jack nodded carefully and squeezed her tiny healing hand in his. Janet pulled the privacy screen around the bed and delivered up the complete set of blue class d's she had had retrieved from his on-base locker.
The act of getting dressed was agony but once dressed and back in uniform Jack felt in touch with reality again, rescued in the security of his military persona, the comfort of the uniform giving him back his identity. Maybe it brought some confidence back with it. He had to get over this. How was this Goa'uld torture any different from what he had endured before, at the hands of the Iraqi, or Apophis?
Janet made CJ the Colonel's personal escort; she would follow shortly. Jack decided on a side trip before they went topside. General Hammond was pleasantly surprised and distressed to see his 2IC back on his lanky if not somewhat wobbly legs, at his office door. Jack already lean, now appeared gaunt, his skin color was still too pale where it wasn't displaying a palette of bruised colors. There was no confidence in his carriage; the word frail came to mind, a term Hammond would never have associated with Jack.
"Debrief." Jack forced the words out through his clenched teeth.
"Colonel I know it hurts and it's damn near impossible to talk. You can just write it out."
Jack offered a weak smile but the one brown eye twinkled with amusement. Hammond's heart warmed, he could see the veils falling away and Jack returning.
Jack wrote it quickly and concisely, leaving out the seduction and the Goa'ulds declarations of possession. He fumbled and struggled over the details of his escape. Hammond could see the agony as the words went to paper and became record. The pen was slammed down and Jack retreated with as much speed as he could muster. His nurse escort shot a quick glance over her shoulder to the General and then down to the handwritten report.
Hammond closed his office door and requested to not be disturbed while he read over the Colonel's report. It was a good decision for what had been written had been a hard read. Now he understood why Jack was torturing himself. He remembered once how Jack had told him that one day he would ask him to buy back his soul, it seemed that time may have arrived.
The X-rays and been positive for severe damage, Jack was going to have his jaw wired shut for a duration of six weeks to allow the bones of his face to heal without further damage to the surrounding tissue, the eye and the nerves. Eating through a straw was more agreeable than an IV or a stomach tube, having no choice Jack resigned himself to the procedure. Jack spent three more days for further recovery in the SGC infirmary before he was sent home to a refrigerator stocked with food supplements of every flavor.
It was his second day home, alone, when he woke with a narcotic hangover. Old Doc Fraiser had given him a bucket full of painkillers, which she hoped he would take, but expected he wouldn't. She had been half-right. It wasn't so much the pain, he'd suffered worse for much longer, it was the continuing nightmares. As if his prior ghouls had not been enough, but now to have these new ones added to the horror film library of his memories was shaking him.
The trace memories of Camazotz's flesh against his, how his body responded to the exotic ministration of her talent mouth kept him from other rational thought The confusion caused by the desire to revisit the pain/pleasure he had experienced with her disgusted him. Maybe, he had been held captive once too often and this episode was the one that had broken him. No, he wouldn't let that concept survive, he strangled it quickly. Yet, he could still feel her touching him. He could still taste blood, his and hers. Camazotz's blood had been hot and sweet like cayenne-spiked honey and his had been salty and metallic, combined they had been savored and sickening.
And there was always the voice, her voice, at first Carter's dulcet tones and then the transformation into the hideous vibrato of a snakehead. He heard it when his mind got empty, when ambient noise seemed to be at their softest, when he closed his eyes trying to breathe without pain. Jack knew he shouldn't be abusing the drugs; it was not like he was doing it to get high, just an escape, to give himself enough time to heal, to sort everything out. If he stayed drugged and stuporous all of his specters were held in check, left to maraud through his waking thoughts when he could more efficiently deal with them.
Sitting on his sofa Jack crushed up two more pills, dissolved them in a shot glass of the water, and then sucked the slurry up with a straw. Next he held his right hand in front of him. There was the slightest tremble, just like when he got back from Iraq; he was the only one who seemed to notice. The sudden ring of his doorbell dragged him out of what was going to be a good wallow in self-pity. At his door were the three members of his team, Jack had no choice but to let them in. Teal'c would have no second thoughts of breaking down his door if left unanswered.
"Jack!' Daniel pointed out the obvious and he led the other two into Jack's home.
Carter kept silent, nervous to speak around him. Teal'c gave him a quick head bow as he clutched on to a large box. "We brought you some surprises." Without approval Daniel led Teal'c into kitchen. He began to empty the contents of the bag he carried several container of ice cream of many flavors were neatly placed in Jack's empty freezer followed by a gallon of milk in the refrigerator. Teal'c revealed the last surprise, a blender that looked like it had been developed by NASA. Carter assured him it could liquefy naquedah. Jack couldn't laugh but snorted in amusement realizing they were desperately trying to please him; they did not need to share his pain.
Jack tried to smile but muscles and healing nerves were not playing along. He sat back; an observer, as two scientists and a Jaffa made a mess of his kitchen with their dairy versus blender experiments. He had sat wordless though Daniels dissertation on vampires. No jokes about old Horror movies and men in tuxedos or TV shows, just slight head nods and weak smiles. The painkiller tugged at him and he drifted off to sleep content in knowing his team was happy watching over him.