by ALC Punk!
Five months, and they awake to a knock at the door.
The bald head is familiar, piercing blue eyes stare at them as they look blearily back. "Thank god." The words sound strange, his eyes close. "The Russians..." But he stops and shakes his head. "Never mind. You're alive."
"Yes." She's forgotten how to talk to other people, she thinks.
"Jack, Sam." Hammond looks between the two of them. "The SGC needs you back."
They don't have to look at each other, they simply step onto the porch and gesture towards the steps. "Have a seat, General," Jack's voice is almost humorless.
When settled, he looks at them. "According to the Russians, you assaulted several of their people, then fled to sell information on the black market or to the highest bidder. There was an extensive search for you for the first two months but when nothing came of it..."
"They're lying, General." Jack shifts. "I got dragged over for some reason, then they locked me up and beat me. Carter broke me out."
"Dr. Markhov was found tied to her chair."
"Yes." Sam feels somewhat distant from events. "I needed her keys."
"Well, the situation has escalated to the point that the Russians are threatening to expose the stargate program."
"Then let them."
She isn't surprised by Jack's words.
Hammond is. "Jack, you know -"
"Oh, come on, General. I know what? That the general populace of the world is imbecilic? Yes. Yes it is."
"Same old Jack," the man says softly.
Wrapping her hand around Jack's, Sam shrugs, "I'm not sure the world would care, sir. Aren't there still politicians and sex scandals and tv?"
"It's good to see you both looking well." There's a wealth of sadness in his eyes, and he shifts gears. "Unfortunately, I didn't come to see you about the escalating international crisis. Thor contacted us. The Asgard need the both of you, but couldn't send a ship to retrieve you."
"Did they say why?"
"No. All we know is that it was urgent two months ago. Now..."
The trail-off makes them both stiffen, and then Sam nods. "Where do we go?"
Just like that, they're dragged back into the thick of things. She wants to be sickened about it, but can't work up the energy.
Half a day later, they're arriving at a place she never thought she'd see again. The mountain looks the same, only she's changed. And Jack. The guard at the gate is new and doesn't recognize them, but Lieutenant Fredericks still mans the check-in point between elevators, and his eyes widen when he notices the way they don't let go of each other.
It would take courage to let his hand go, and so she stores that for later and just hangs on to him.
Twenty floors, twenty-five, twenty-seven, and they're walking down corridors she used to know well. Like the back of Jack's hand, or the way he shifts at exactly four after three every night. The briefing room is still the same.
Her father's there. He studies them for a moment, then reaches out to touch her.
She holds still, ignoring the irrational urge to move away. "Hey."
"Sam."
Then she's wrapped in his arms, not crying, but almost smiling. Jack wraps his arms around both of them. It's weird, but her dad doesn't object.
Neither does she.
"So." His voice is husky as he pulls away from them. "You two been staying busy? Obviously healthy, you both look like you've been doing nothing but fishing."
Jack shrugs, "I've been trying for years, Dad. She finally said yes."
"Thank you for waiting," Hammond bustles in, several men in fatigues behind him. "This is Colonel Reynolds and the current SG-1. Captain Brandy McIntyre, Lieutenant Theo Graham, and Dr. Wade Wilson. You will be accompanying them to the destination specified by the Asgard."
"You've been very cagey, General." His voice isn't suspicious, but Sam tenses nonetheless. She already knows where all the exits are. "What's really going on?"
"Jack, all we know is that the Asgard requested your assistance."
"Begging your pardon, sir," Reynolds interjects. "But we do think it might be the Replicators."
A shiver runs up her spine.
"That's unconfirmed conjecture, Colonel." Hammond sounds almost irritated.
"Well, give us our stuff, let's go. Carter and I need to be back home in time for tea, y'know."
I don't want to go. But she doesn't say it.
Like old times, they suit up. She feels constricted by the vest and pants and boots. As if this isn't her anymore (and it isn't). Jack almost looks uncomfortable. Jacob takes them to the infirmary for pre-mission checks, and Janet works on them in silence.
Until Sam has had enough. "I couldn't stay."
"You could have tried."
"No." Her hands catch at Janet, and she turns her. "I lost too much, Janet."
"And what about us, Sam?"
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah." Janet steps away. "You're both ready to go."
"Thanks, Doc." His voice isn't thankful.
"Get the hell out of my infirmary."
She's almost shaking when they reach the gateroom. A combination of terror and sadness and the sudden remembrance of needing this place so much.
The trip through the gate is as she remembers it. Cold and strange, molecules dissolving and recombining. She staggers against Jack as they exit, and he keeps his arm around her as they walk after SG-1.
Curiously, it doesn't hurt that SG-1 isn't her anymore. Isn't them. It's right for the name to be passed on. For others to have the chance at glory.
After several minutes of walking, the structure they're aiming for is close enough to see. It resembles every other tomb or ruin she's seen since Daniel started dragging SG-1 on all of his archeological expeditions. Not that she'd minded at the time.
Dr. Wilson is walking next to her, and he suddenly speaks, "We came here once or twice, but we're not really sure what to do. This building is a fascinating marvel, and -"
"Thanks, Doc. But I'm not interested in a history lecture."
"Sorry, ma'am."
He seems incredibly young, but she doesn't try to placate him. "I just want to get this over with."
"Ah." With a sidelong look at her, he drops back to walk next to McIntyre, and they begin talking.
Jack glances at her. "Little short there."
"I told him the truth." A shiver goes down her spine. "I want to go home."
"Yeah." His hand tangles with hers, and they continue in silence until they're standing underneath the overhang of the 'porch' outside the structure.
Reynolds gestures, "This is what we think the Asgard wanted you for."
The device is familiar. Sam breathes in, then out, "It's one of the Ancients' library devices."
Jack stares at it. "The Asgard sent us here?"
"Apparently." Reynolds gestures. "So. Who gets head-shrunk?"
"Oh, no," Jack shakes his head. "Been there, done that, not doing it again. Ever."
"I will." Surprise fills her. Had she really said that? "I mean, why not?"
"Carter -"
They simply look at each other. "I think I have to, Jack."
"Well, whoever is going to do it, can we get it over with?" Reynolds shifts on his feet. "This place gives me the creeps."
Sam walks towards the device and reaches out a hand, running it over the raised surface. Fragments of memory surface: the last device, the way it reached out and grabbed Jack, holding him tightly. There is no reaction from this one.
"Huh. Doesn't like you, Carter." Jack sounds almost amused.
She can feel his breath on her neck. "Jack -"
It happens in a blur, it feels like someone's shoved her head into a pot of boiling water, light pours behind her eyes. And she can feel Jack, can sense his own pain as the device grabs them both and downloads its contents directly into their cerebral cortexes.
Then she's staggering back, sagging bonelessly. Wilson and McIntyre catch them and they stare at each other.
Jack finds his voice first. "Ow."
It's irony, she thinks, as a staff-blast kills Colonel Reynolds. The man looks comically surprised as he crumples to the ground. Wilson takes the next hit, and then the other two are moving, diving for cover as Sam and Jack do the same. Not that it helps. In a matter of minutes, their position is over-run. The last thing she sees before a staff weapon burns through her chest is Jack falling.
Sam Carter wakes up cold.
A breeze crosses her skin, and she shivers, trying to orient herself. Seconds later, pain blossoms down her side. Her soft whimper echoes.
Forcing her eyes open, she finds a man standing before her, his lips smirking slightly. "So. You are awake." He's toying with a knife, kin to the one buried in her side. She notices more about her surroundings. Dun brown walls, and something metallic at her back. She thinks she should be falling, since her arms and legs are spread, but nothing is chaining her to the wall.
Ba'al. It has to be Ba'al with his gravity generators and sadistic need to torture.
"Tell me what you've learned from the depository."
She licks her lips, strangely calm. "Bite me."
Later, when she's covered in knife wounds and her blood is coating the floor, she reminds herself that he would never believe her anyway. She doesn't know what's she's learned. There is - something - there. But she can't touch it.
It took days for Jack, she thinks, but doesn't say.
A final knife slides into her heart and she chokes on her own blood.
At least this is better than grit on her skin.
The next time she awakens, she's alone. It's a small cell, barely wide enough to pace, so she curls in the corner and stares blankly at the white light. She thinks this is the fourth time she's come back from being dead at Ba'al's hand, but isn't certain.
He keeps asking questions she can't answer, although the memory of the answers is just out of reach like a shadow on the wind.
Jaffa appear, and she waits, vaguely remembering that the floor changes. She thinks the fuzziness is left over from being dead, but doesn't care to question it. They drag her upright as the floor shifts and she falls against the force field covering the entrance. "Move."
The other one laughs softly.
She wonders why they're here, now. It feels too soon since her last visit with Ba'al. But she doesn't ask.
They're nearly to the throne room when she hears the strangled gurgle.
Jack. Ba'al has Jack in there.
Her mind clears.
The jaffa on her right only realizes something's wrong with the prisoner they didn't bother holding onto when her hands dive into his pouch and she twists and breaks the symbiote. The poisonous blood spills out, mixing with his. And all he can feel is pain.
His staff weapon makes a satisfying thunk as it slams into the other guard's head. She smashes the symbiote in the pouch with the butt end, feeling it give.
All in all, the attack took mere seconds, she decides as she pants, adrenaline clearing more. Her body aches with injuries it should still have that no longer exist. So much blood... But she shoves the thought away and moves towards the door, listening for a sign that the attack was heard.
"Just tell me, O'Neill. And it will be so much simpler." Ba'al is gloating. "Of course, if yuo wish not to, I can have my jaffa bring your lover to me. And we will find out how much she knows."
"No."
Neither of them notice her as she slips in, moving towards the dais. At the last second, Ba'al senses the remnants of the symbiote within her and he starts to turn. But he's far too late.
The end of the staff weapon glows against the back of his neck. "Let him go."
"And if I don't?"
She smiles, "I'll kill you."
Ba'al chuckles, "O'Neill, you have chosen wisely for a mate. Unlike the other, this one is full of fire and spirit."
"You have ten seconds. And don't think I can't fire before you wrap yourself in a personal shield."
"Very well." A combination of symbols are pressed on his console.
"Free?" She doesn't take her steady gaze from the false God before her.
"Free." Jack's voice is hoarse.
"Good."
Three staff blasts in rapid succession are more than enough to burn through the bone and tissues. Ba'al's head hits the floor with a wet thump as his body sways, then topples, the cauterized burns on his neck and now-dead symbiote still smoking.
Now she turns to look at Jack. She resisted until now, knowing it might distract her. He looks horrible, and she moves to take his arm, leading him by memory to the sarcophagus. "Get in."
"No."
"Do it or I'll render you unconscious, Jack."
A dry laugh and he complies, crawling in.
She watches it close and then begins investigating the chamber for more weapons. There's a console on one wall panel and she works her way through the symbols until she remembers, vaguely, how to call up a schematic of the complex. Daniel had once taught her to read technical goa'uld symbols. These are barely different.
The sarcophagus grinds open, and Jack slowly sits up. "I hate this thing."
"Yeah." She half-smiles. "Me, too."
"Any trouble?" He asks as she helps him out then hands him the staff weapon and retrieves the hand device Ba'al was wearing.
It slips on easily, and she looks at it a moment, then shakes her head. "No. And I think we're the only ones he brought here."
"Know how we get out?"
"Yep." She turns and types something on the console, then sets her hand in the center and pushes, feeling the energy flow from herself into the machine. "Let's go."
"What'd you do?" He asks as they exit the room, both on alert.
"Set the self-destruct."
"Ah."
A voice in goa'uld begins calling out. She half-smiles, "We have about three minutes."
"Let's go, then."
By the time they reach the surface, they've killed several more jaffa. It's raining, the drops cold and large enough that by the time they reach the gate they're both soaked.
A staff blast impacts the muddy ground, and they duck behind the DHD and fire back.
"Where to?" She calls over the sound of battle.
Jack considers, "Cimmeria. We need to talk to Thor."
"Right. Cover me!"
As one they stand, Jack firing continuously at the approaching jaffa. Sam dials, her palms stinging with the force of her actions on the console. The gate coalesces, and she turns, and swings her hand, smashing outwards with the force suddenly at her fingertips. The crystal in the hand device glows, and three of the jaffa are tossed back.
Jack takes out two more, and then they run.
The trip through the gate is cold, and she shakes as they step off the platform on the other side. A moment later, two jaffa spill out. Jack shoots them before Thor's Hammer has a chance to activate.
"Welcome, travelers."
Sam sags slightly, feeling the adrenaline wash away. Her bones ache with the exhaustion. Between them, Jack and their guide get them to Gairwyn's. Sam doesn't notice most of the journey, her vision greying in and out.
"I'm worried about her."
He shouldn't be, but she doesn't have the energy to tell him she's just tired. So very tired.