She let out an airy groan of pain as the little breath left in her lungs was involuntarily forced out.

And then she passed out. Again.

Ch 3: DISORIENTATION

Bright.
And dark.
Moving.

She opened her eyes to see trees.
Again.

This time she gripped her reality rapidly and the muzziness in her mind dissipated quickly. Trees. The same trees. The same forest floor. The same dirt and twigs.

But brighter than earlier. And a gentle breeze was wafting the smaller branches back and forth... creating moving shadows across the ground, herself and her CO.

Each breath was painful. His grip had relaxed significantly... if it hadn't she probably wouldn't have woken up. Ever.

But each breath was painful now. She undoubtedly had some bruised ribs and such. But at least he'd relaxed. Even if it had been after she was unconscious.

Taking further stock, she also felt stiff and tired of lying on her right side. Her right shoulder and hip were numb. It only took a few minutes for her to realize that she was going to have to move. They were both going to have to move. They couldn't lie in this same position for much longer.

Planning her moves again to put herself facing him, she intended to get her arms between their chests – and she'd... well, she'd just have to knee him in the groin if he started to squeeze the life out of her again. She'd apologize afterwards. And, if it really was him, he'd understand... after he stopped cursing.

Steeling herself, she quickly rolled over, pulling his left arm up and over with hers while pulling her knees up a little while pushing away from him a bit.

And, it worked!

Well, at least he didn't attempt the vice-like bear-hug again. They now lay facing each other with their handcuffed left arms crossing over between them. She was still lying on his right arm, but she needed to assess their situation before deciding on her next move.

First, she looked him over again from her improved vantage point. Again, she could see no visible injuries. No blood or bruises. No torn clothing. Hmmmm... and he had his shoes. That was definitely not fair, she groused silently.

Turning her scrutiny back to his face she assessed and compared to what she'd learned of the man over the past 8 years. And, just as before, she could only determine that he appeared to be sleeping fairly peacefully. With no obvious distress... not even any apparent disturbing dreams. In fact, he looked quite peaceful, and she found her thoughts drifting into areas that she knew weren't appropriate for a professional relationship. Feeling the familiar yet sad bite in her heart, she forced herself back to the problem at hand.

For now, he appeared to be relatively OK. So, why was he still asleep?

Darts! She remembered darts!
Just below her collarbone.
Tranquilizing darts!

And that was it.
She couldn't remember anything else.
Yet... the rest seemed to be there... just too fuzzy to make out.

Tranquilizing darts... Well, if they'd hit her with two, they'd probably hit him with three or four. Who knew how long he'd be asleep?!

With one more assessing look at her CO, she turned her attention to the next task.

Time to get a better look around.

----------------------

Pushing herself up slowly, a notable echo of her earlier feelings of weakness were apparent. Sitting up finally, she rested and braced herself so that she didn't topple back over. Her head swam a bit as her heart adjusted to the demands of her new body position.

They were off to the side in a clearing, or meadow, amongst some trees.

And roughly 80-90 meters away (roughly the length of a football field) were what appeared to be two heavily-laden off-world-SGC-jitneys... the small motorized transport vehicles that they used when they needed to move small, but heavy, loads off-world. Piles of bags and boxes were stacked alongside the two overburdened transports.

Laden with what?
For what?
By whom?

The unanswered questions were becoming increasingly annoying.

She hoped that there were socks and boots in that pile somewhere!
And the keys to these cuffs.

Yes, that would be nice.
And she wasn't sure what she really wanted more.
Warm feet were starting to sound extremely important on her personal priority list.

And then he moved. Just a little.
She froze and waited.

And then he moved again.... just a small movement.
His eyes fluttered, closed and then opened.
His gaze initially horizontal along the ground.

"Sir?" she kept her voice soft and quiet. First, so that she wouldn't alert any of their captors that their prisoners were waking up... But the second reason was just as important, she spoke softly so that she didn't startle him... because she didn't want him jerking her arm out of her socket before she could show him the cuffs.

His head turned a little and his eyes moved to focus on her. Apparently she'd succeeded. He hadn't jumped or jerked at her voice... of course, she realized, he may just be feeling like she had earlier - in which case, his head probably felt like it was stuffed with cotton and his arms and legs felt weak and leaden.

"Sir?" she spoke softly again and watched for recognition.

"Cahrr...," her name died in his throat as he struggled to clear his mind and wake up.

She gave him a small smile, "Yes, sir."

He closed his eyes and she watched to see if he was going to fall back asleep. A few moments later, however, he opened his eyes again and looked back up at her. His eyes were a bit clearer this time. He blinked, shook his head slightly and started to move so she put her right hand on his left shoulder, "Sir?" she asked for his attention and he stopped.

"We...uh...," and she held up her left arm and gently tugged hers up with it so that he could see the cuffs.

He stared for a moment and then glanced back at her. "Right," he stated as if this happened to them all of the time. Well, she realized that... actually weirder things happened to them fairly regularly... so waking up cuffed together probably wasn't that peculiar... at least not for them!

He moved his right arm under his right side and levered himself towards a sitting position. She stabilized his movements by holding his left hand and by keeping her right arm on his left shoulder.

When he was upright, the two of them were facing each other with their cuffed left wrists crossing the space diagonally between them. She watched him study the odd way that they were cuffed. He looked up at her questioningly. She just shrugged. She still couldn't see the purpose of that arrangement yet.

Ignoring the unanswerable for right now, he turned his perceptive gaze around the clearing. She watched him take in the large pile of unknown content.

"Any idea where we are?" he spoke as softly as she had earlier.

"No sir," she admitted and then added, "I was really hoping that you did."

He looked back at her and a small sardonic smile quirked the edges of his mouth for a moment and then he turned back to the task at hand. "Have you seen anyone?"

"No sir," she replied.

"You're not full of much intel, Carter," and he kept his tone light.

"Sorry, sir," and she rolled her eyes a bit in long-sufferance while a small smile flitted across her own face. She was already feeling more than 100 percent better now that he was awake and speaking in his usual irreverent fashion.

His eyes continued to scan the area. Cataloguing and assessing what he saw. The implications, the possibilities. And she saw his eyes travel back to her. He gave her a quick once-over, looking for any injuries or wounds that hadn't immediately taken center stage.

"Carter?" His eyebrows had climbed his forehead a bit in askance.

"Yes, sir?" She knew what he was looking at.

"Where are your shoes?"

She had tried to tuck her feet under her legs for warmth, but her bare toes and ankles could still be seen. She shook her head a little and sighed, "I don't know, sir."

He just stared at her. She knew that he was trying to figure this whole thing out.
Where they were. Who'd abducted them. Why they were here.
Why they were cuffed in such an unusual configuration.
Why she had no shoes or socks... and yet he did.
Why her shoes and socks?

The look on his face told her that he didn't have any more answers than she did.

His eyes scanned the clearing again for a few moments while he continued to shake off the effects of the drug. She couldn't help but notice that he seemed to be fighting it off much faster than she had.

A few moments later and his attention was back on her. Checking her out more carefully. She simply waited. He was the CO, and she was the proper military officer. Patient... with superiors. Besides, she respected and trusted him. So the waiting wasn't too difficult. Well, at least not most of the time.

"Cold?" he questioned softly.

"A bit," she admitted, "but I'll be fine, sir."

He didn't reply, but simply stared at her for a few beats... and then reached across with his left hand and grasped one of her feet. She jerked a bit in surprise at the unexpected contact. "Sheez! Carter! You're feet are like ice!" he hissed.

She shrugged, "Yes, sir," she replied softly. There wasn't much she could do about it right now, so she was trying to ignore it.

He stared at her for another moment and then turned his attention back to the pile of unknown materials on and around the jitneys. With one more assessing look around the clearing, "Well, I think we should check that out first. Maybe we can find you some shoes and the keys to these cuffs," he echoed her earlier thoughts.

"Yes, sir," she replied and they began helping each other stand-up. Not an easy task when he was still sluggish and groggy and she had frozen feet and cramped muscles. Eventually, however, the two of them were on their feet... although they were leaning heavily on each other for mutual support and stability.

A few moments of hanging onto each other and they pulled back slowly, each taking their own weight more fully onto their own feet.

"Wow," he kept his voice soft, "Is the world spinning a bit for you, Carter?" he asked.

"Not much sir," she replied. "I've had a little more time to wake up and get past the drugged-out feeling."

"Right," he replied slowly again as his thoughts moved off to their next immediate task. Walking while cuffed as they were would be do-able, although a bit awkward. Without waiting for any further discussion, she moved over to stand on his left side, her left arm across her body to where it was cuffed to his left wrist. This allowed him to keep his left arm at his left side, a more comfortable and useful position if he had to respond to anything. He glanced up and met her eyes briefly before turning back towards their objective.

Slowly walking over to the pile of unknown materials, she was annoyed at the razor-sharp rocks and twigs stabbing at her unprotected feet. She tried to avoid what she could, but too much was hidden below the light dusting of leaves and forest litter. Twice she stepped on something so sharp that she reflexively jerked and hopped off balance. She was pretty sure that she'd cut her foot on that last one. And, none of her efforts were helped by her bruised rib cage.

Each time she faltered, O'Neill stopped and steadied her. Each time, he would look at her questioningly and she would mutter a quiet apology and then turn her attention back to their forward progress. The last thing she wanted was to have him offer to carry her!

After what had seemed too long, they reached the last few feet before their goal. They both kept constant vigil on the trees and surrounding area for any sign of movement or approach. Nothing moved except the two of them and the branches and leaves of the trees in the gentle breeze.

"Shiiuuhhh-"Sam hissed a sharp breath in as her already wounded foot was lacerated by another sharp unseen object. Pitching slightly forward with her left arm crossed across her body to his left arm, she fell against her own arm – which pushed sharply against her bruised ribs. Clenching her eyes shut against the pain, she felt him catch her from behind as his arms wrapped around her.

He held her for a moment while she regained her balance, standing back up and taking her weight off of their arms and back onto her tender feet. Or rather, foot. She was really standing with most of her weight on her least injured foot. The other was lancing with pain.

"Carter?" softly in her ear and she closed her eyes again... but just for a moment, and then slowly turned counter-clockwise so that she could face him. He held onto her as she wobbled a bit as they negotiated their linked arms and wrists.

As she came around towards him, she looked up... his face was mostly in leaf-dappled shadows... he was looking piercingly at her, assessing her condition... and then a patch of sun flashed across his eyes...

And she saw...

She saw...

Her breath caught as the images flashed through her mind.
A sound.
A doorway.
Those eyes.

A puzzled look crossed his face, "Carter?" he sounded a bit worried now as she still hadn't answered.

"I... uh...," her mind was racing... trying to put the pieces together... "I... need to sit down, sir," she finally got that much out.

He just looked at her for another moment and then nodded and gestured to the side of one of the larger crates that was just a foot or two away. Nodding her agreement, she reached out a hand to the crate and then carefully lowered herself so that she could sit while leaning back against the side of the crate. He watched and positioned himself so that he was crouched facing her, but a little to her left side so that her left arm wasn't stretched across her anymore.

Once seated, she took a slow breath while she tried to figure out what was going on. He waited for a moment and then turned his attention to her bruised and bloodied feet.

"Well, nothing's bleeding too profusely. We could tear off pieces of our jackets or T-shirts, but I think we just might find something better in these crates and boxes," he declared after his inspection and then waited for her response.

She nodded distractedly, "Yes sir, I'll be fine."

He was staring at her again. Observing, cataloguing and assessing. And he knew her too well, "We obviously need to take care of your feet, Carter, but there's something else," he declared softly and with narrowed, knowing eyes. "What is it?"

"It's nothing sir, I'll be fine," she repeated softly and without looking at him.

He noticed it all.
When she looked at him and when she wouldn't.
Her tone and her inflection.

"Carrrterrr...," he drew it out and used his tone to emphasize and reiterate his request.

She glanced up and... there they were again. His eyes caught in dapples of light and dark. She looked away quickly.

"Carter!" he hissed... he didn't have a lot of patience in good times – and right now... apparent prisoners on an unknown planet... definitely did not qualify as good times!

Her military training kicked in and she responded to her CO's request, "It's just a couple of bruised ribs, sir. It's nothing, really."

His gaze bored into her. Unrelenting, as he tried to figure out what was going on. Both around them and with her. She wouldn't look at him – she kept her eyes scanning the clearing.. She kept her eyes anywhere but on him.

Silence stretched between them for a few moments.

The clearing was quiet. No movements other than the swaying branches.

"Carter, I know you too well. There's something else," and then he raised his right hand and waggled his index finger at her. "And if you just tell me that you are fine again, then I'm going to know that you are critically injured!" Both a warning and a challenge.

She sighed and glanced up at him again. She met his eyes... and now all she saw was deep concern and friendship. And she suddenly doubted the images of her memories. Maybe...-

"Carter?" he said it softly again and she knew his patience was almost completely gone.

"Sir, would you check your pockets?" she asked quietly.

"What?" he looked at her like was suddenly speaking an alien language.

"Would you check your pockets..., please?" she asked again.

Bewildered, he kept his voice low, "Why? Carter, you need to tell me what's going on! I can't work witho-,"

"Sir!" she kept it to a hard whisper. "Please. I... I don't honestly know what's going on... I... I need more data...," and she paused and met his eyes again to see his confusion. "Please, I just need you to check your pockets.... Sir."

Both of them off-balance a little by the direction of their weird, strangely non-informative conversation. Questioning brown eyes met blue eyes asking for a little trust. He glanced away and then back. She just waited silently.

Sighing, he raised his eyebrows in surprise and acceptance, "You keep an eye out...," and then he started going through his pockets. She didn't respond, but just followed his orders and kept a visual patrol of their surroundings. Watching and listening for anything approaching their position.

"Ssssss-," a sharp intake of breath from him and she turned to look at what he'd found.

A key.

He was holding it in his hand like it was an alien organism that was going to bite him. He looked up and met her eyes. She carefully kept her face impassive.

Not saying a word, she lifted her wrist and positioned the cuffs so that the lock was turned towards him.

He didn't move.

Slowly reaching out, she took the key from him and flipped it over in her hand so that it was situated correctly. Inserting it into the lock, she turned the key and the cuffs snapped open, freeing first her wrist and then his as she turned the locking mechanism.

She pulled her hand away, rubbing the sore flesh.
He lowered his arm slowly.
Neither of them looking at the other.

He was dumbfounded.
Trying to put the pieces together.

She was dejected and uneasy. Because she had been right.
She had wanted to be wrong.
She had so wanted to be wrong.

"Car...Carterr...?" he was asking for that explanation although his determination was now laced with apprehension and uncertainty.

She forced her eyes to meet his.
She saw the uncertainty and the questions.
She saw her CO. A man that she respected.
A man who had saved the world. Repeatedly.
A hero.
A man that she would trust with her life.
A man that she had trusted with her life countless times.

She started to say something, but the words failed her.

Who was this man in front of her now?
Was it really him?
Or was it a clone?
An android double such as Harlan had made?
A replicator humanoid in his shape?

She tried to see the answer in his eyes.

The moments passed as she grappled with what to say while he fought his intense dislike for not knowing all of the details... for not knowing the 'whole picture.'

She saw the questions in his eyes.

And then his eyes widened and he sucked in a quick breath.
She froze and watched him carefully.
His eyes lost focus as if he were watching images only he could see.

"Ohmygod... ohmygod...," he was muttering with a stricken look. "No, no, no..., Ohmygod... ohmygod..." His head was moving slowly back and forth and his eyes were not focused on anything around them. Suddenly his eyes met hers again and he focused on her – and looked terrified. "No, no, no, not-, not-, not-, no, no, no-" he was repeating the words and phrases over and over again.

Uncertain of what was going on, Sam didn't move and watched him carefully. She was injured and the best she could do for a weapon was one of the sharp rocks around them. She curled the fingers of her right hand around one of the rocks by her right leg. Waiting, watching... and hoping that there was going to be an explanation soon. Of the 'happy ending' sort. Even though she knew that was unlikely, she couldn't help holding out hope.

Suddenly he stood up.

Glancing wildly around at the boxes and crates, he stumbled between the two larger stacks.

And then he stood stock still.

He turned back and looked at her apologetically.
Sorrow.
Guilt.

And that little curl of fear in her stomach bloomed into a nauseous wash.
She tried to calm it with a slow, deep breath.

He took a step back towards her... and her fingers tightened around the sharp-edged rock.

"Carter...I'm sorry," and his anguish was palpable.

And then he bolted.

Right past her and into the woods.
In seconds he was gone.

TBC