Out of all the things that could hurt, being aware of grass being stepped
on is one of the most painfull. Grass doesn´t crunch and wither under heavy
weight, it simply bends over, again and again, under the weight of any
number of things. In this case, it was the fat ass of an old Padeos, eating
a meal just outside the cave. The grass couldn´t breath properly, and some
of the blades were bent under so much weight they were about to snap. It
hurt like hell.
There was something else though. The wind. It was stuck in a dark room, banging agains the walls in a circular fashion. Amazingly enough, the rock being hit by the cold, harsh wind hurt more than the grass. If O´Neill had been a little more awake, he would of stopped to wonder what the hell was wrong with him. As it was, he was not, and so all he felt was pain, and he knew exactly from where every single bit of it was coming from.
The grass. The wind. The rock. A bird. A bug. A fish. Fire. Water. Stone. A young Padeos girl was crying in fear. An older Niseos was mourning the death of his most recent master. The Sailen were worried. They would die. They were scared of death. A young boy not too far away tripped on his own to feet and tumbled down a cliff. He broke his arm.
O´Neill cried out in pain. He opened his eyes and it was worse. Now he could see the grass, the wind, the boy, Death. He rolled on his side. He could do nothing else. He fell of the bed. Now, his own pain was added to the whole array of images. He wriggled, much like a fish which had just been taken out of a pond a day´s journey away. The fish would make excelent dinner to an old woman. O´Neill felt sorry for the fish. He managed to sit up, although he didn´t know how. He leaned against something. The other bed. Big mistake.
Sam was there. In a second and all at the same time he saw everything. When she was a girl. When her mother died. When she first joined the Air Force. Her plants. The fascination with physics. He couldn´t bare it. It was all painfull, no matter what it was: happy, sad, angrering. It all hurt. He knew at once exactly what she thought of him, and yet he forgot it too. An image opened up in his head. A girl. Cassandra? No. Another wave of pain. Kaia! It was Kaia! He remembered. Occupy his mind. He had to. He didn´t know if he could. There was suddenly something else. Wormhole. Bright. The first time Sam had gone through. He´d pushed her. She thought he was funny. She knew he pretended to me more stupid than what he actually was. O´Neill had no time to even ponder what he was doing. Sam´s memories were more than enough for everything else to dim. He focused on them. Second by second. He didn´t care what they were. He didn´t care how many numbers and formula went into his head. He understood it. He forgot. He remembered. Or was it she who remembered? He suddenly found himself breathing normally. He remembered something else. Something which was his own. Everything was inside of him. He closed his eyes, there it was. His mind went quiet.
While grass is entitled to feel pain and all, it really doesn´t compare to the beating a spoon takes. Up. Down. Up. Down. Into the bowl, out of the bowl. Teeth digging into it. Scrapping. Scrapping. Being thrown down, picked up. Banged against a tree. Put into a fire. Hot. Bang. Scrape. The worse part was that the spoon itself didn´t feel anything, but Daniel did. He opened his eyes and he saw a fly on the wall. It was cold. So cold. It shivered. It´s wings hurt. Daniel couldn´t breath. He couldn´t. He was underwater. No. A shoe. A shoe underwater. A young Niseos lost it. Soaked. Cold. Fly. Wall. Hard. Scrape. Hot. Spoon. Food. Drink. Niseos? Kaia! Cultures. He couldn´t breath. He couldn´t breath because chairs don´t breath. Hauled up. Hauled down. Sat on. Stood on. Dragged across the floor. No air. No air. Because he was the air. No, he wasn´t. Air. Room. Circle. Shower? Kaia! Breath. Breath. Breath. No good. Kaia! Girl! Strange! Different. Cutlures! He had it. He saw it. Symbols. Letters. Signs. Notebooks. Paper. Rip. Torn. He was. Torn. His wife. SG-1. He felt it again. Spoon being scraped, chair being sat on. The fly would die. It did not want to die. No! Daniel didn´t want the fly to die. The fly didn´t care. It was already dead. Fly. Insect. Insect. Beetle. Egypt. Stargate. SGC. Wormhole. Kaia! Told them to remember. Occupy their minds! Nothing came. Nothing came. Pain. It really, really hurt to be the spoon, the chair, the fly, the shoe, the bowl, the cold, air. A light. A flash. Wormhole. Sam. Rambling. O´Neill. Confused. Not really. His wife. His work. Symbols. Breath! He could! Deep breath. He remebered now. He felt the fly, he wasn´t the fly. His head. In his head. It was there. Quiet. Rest. Breath. At last.
O´Neill was.....hungry. Starving. He opened his eyes. The room was in shadows. Everything was silent. It was the middle of the night. He knew it. Daniel was asleep. He knew that too. Teal´c was outside, with Stari, discussing the ways of the Jaffa on this planet. He was pleased so far. O´Neill shook his head. He didn´t want Teal´c´s thoughts in his mind. He was sitting down on the floor. How the hell-? It didn´t matter. He got up. He suddenly didn´t really mind being barefoot anymore. He felt the cool rock, he was comforted by it. He shook his head. That wasn´t his feeling, that wasn´t his idea. He felt something else.....it was sharp, painfull. He panicked when he realized what it was: Sam couldn´t breath. She just couldn´t.
He turned around. She was lying face up. Eyes wide open but unfocused. She couldn´t breath. She couldn´t even gasp for air. He shook her arm. She was in pain. Everything was suddenly in his head, but it was only for a second. Something else inside of him kept the pain away. He shook her harder.
"Carter!"
He felt it. She saw it all. A dead fly on the wall. A bitter taste. A Sailen soldier was being tortured for failing. A knife in the chest. The blade came out the back. Sam was panicking. She couldn´t think of anything else. She was trapped. She was being tortured in her head. She still couldn´t breath. O´Neill started to panick himself. He shook her harder. He didn´t know what else to do.
"Carter!"
Nothing. She still tried to breath but couldn´t. He held her face in both his hands and looked her in the eye.
"Sam!"
Something stirred. She was inside of his head. She saw everything. Something in O´Neill tried to stop it but it couldn´t. She saw. His son. When he´d first met Daniel. What exact thought had gone through his head when he´d first seen her. Her eyes suddenly focused. O´Neill was still panicking. She couldn´t die. He couldn´t let it happen. What had they done to themselves? His breath was short. Suddenly, she breathed. She took in air and let it out. She calmned down. Something lingered between both of them. O´Neill felt it and he knew she did too. He couldn´t let her go. He saw confusion and a whole bunch of other emotions go through Sam´s eyes before she finally gave up. She closed her eyes. She went to sleep. O´Neill got up. Slowly. He knew. She knew. They both knew everything. He sat back down on the floor. This was not good. He looked at her. All the knowledge of everything they felt. They´d shared that. He wouldn´t forget it. She wouldn´t either. How was he supposed to act now? How was she? He ran a hand through his hair. This was not good.
There was something else though. The wind. It was stuck in a dark room, banging agains the walls in a circular fashion. Amazingly enough, the rock being hit by the cold, harsh wind hurt more than the grass. If O´Neill had been a little more awake, he would of stopped to wonder what the hell was wrong with him. As it was, he was not, and so all he felt was pain, and he knew exactly from where every single bit of it was coming from.
The grass. The wind. The rock. A bird. A bug. A fish. Fire. Water. Stone. A young Padeos girl was crying in fear. An older Niseos was mourning the death of his most recent master. The Sailen were worried. They would die. They were scared of death. A young boy not too far away tripped on his own to feet and tumbled down a cliff. He broke his arm.
O´Neill cried out in pain. He opened his eyes and it was worse. Now he could see the grass, the wind, the boy, Death. He rolled on his side. He could do nothing else. He fell of the bed. Now, his own pain was added to the whole array of images. He wriggled, much like a fish which had just been taken out of a pond a day´s journey away. The fish would make excelent dinner to an old woman. O´Neill felt sorry for the fish. He managed to sit up, although he didn´t know how. He leaned against something. The other bed. Big mistake.
Sam was there. In a second and all at the same time he saw everything. When she was a girl. When her mother died. When she first joined the Air Force. Her plants. The fascination with physics. He couldn´t bare it. It was all painfull, no matter what it was: happy, sad, angrering. It all hurt. He knew at once exactly what she thought of him, and yet he forgot it too. An image opened up in his head. A girl. Cassandra? No. Another wave of pain. Kaia! It was Kaia! He remembered. Occupy his mind. He had to. He didn´t know if he could. There was suddenly something else. Wormhole. Bright. The first time Sam had gone through. He´d pushed her. She thought he was funny. She knew he pretended to me more stupid than what he actually was. O´Neill had no time to even ponder what he was doing. Sam´s memories were more than enough for everything else to dim. He focused on them. Second by second. He didn´t care what they were. He didn´t care how many numbers and formula went into his head. He understood it. He forgot. He remembered. Or was it she who remembered? He suddenly found himself breathing normally. He remembered something else. Something which was his own. Everything was inside of him. He closed his eyes, there it was. His mind went quiet.
While grass is entitled to feel pain and all, it really doesn´t compare to the beating a spoon takes. Up. Down. Up. Down. Into the bowl, out of the bowl. Teeth digging into it. Scrapping. Scrapping. Being thrown down, picked up. Banged against a tree. Put into a fire. Hot. Bang. Scrape. The worse part was that the spoon itself didn´t feel anything, but Daniel did. He opened his eyes and he saw a fly on the wall. It was cold. So cold. It shivered. It´s wings hurt. Daniel couldn´t breath. He couldn´t. He was underwater. No. A shoe. A shoe underwater. A young Niseos lost it. Soaked. Cold. Fly. Wall. Hard. Scrape. Hot. Spoon. Food. Drink. Niseos? Kaia! Cultures. He couldn´t breath. He couldn´t breath because chairs don´t breath. Hauled up. Hauled down. Sat on. Stood on. Dragged across the floor. No air. No air. Because he was the air. No, he wasn´t. Air. Room. Circle. Shower? Kaia! Breath. Breath. Breath. No good. Kaia! Girl! Strange! Different. Cutlures! He had it. He saw it. Symbols. Letters. Signs. Notebooks. Paper. Rip. Torn. He was. Torn. His wife. SG-1. He felt it again. Spoon being scraped, chair being sat on. The fly would die. It did not want to die. No! Daniel didn´t want the fly to die. The fly didn´t care. It was already dead. Fly. Insect. Insect. Beetle. Egypt. Stargate. SGC. Wormhole. Kaia! Told them to remember. Occupy their minds! Nothing came. Nothing came. Pain. It really, really hurt to be the spoon, the chair, the fly, the shoe, the bowl, the cold, air. A light. A flash. Wormhole. Sam. Rambling. O´Neill. Confused. Not really. His wife. His work. Symbols. Breath! He could! Deep breath. He remebered now. He felt the fly, he wasn´t the fly. His head. In his head. It was there. Quiet. Rest. Breath. At last.
O´Neill was.....hungry. Starving. He opened his eyes. The room was in shadows. Everything was silent. It was the middle of the night. He knew it. Daniel was asleep. He knew that too. Teal´c was outside, with Stari, discussing the ways of the Jaffa on this planet. He was pleased so far. O´Neill shook his head. He didn´t want Teal´c´s thoughts in his mind. He was sitting down on the floor. How the hell-? It didn´t matter. He got up. He suddenly didn´t really mind being barefoot anymore. He felt the cool rock, he was comforted by it. He shook his head. That wasn´t his feeling, that wasn´t his idea. He felt something else.....it was sharp, painfull. He panicked when he realized what it was: Sam couldn´t breath. She just couldn´t.
He turned around. She was lying face up. Eyes wide open but unfocused. She couldn´t breath. She couldn´t even gasp for air. He shook her arm. She was in pain. Everything was suddenly in his head, but it was only for a second. Something else inside of him kept the pain away. He shook her harder.
"Carter!"
He felt it. She saw it all. A dead fly on the wall. A bitter taste. A Sailen soldier was being tortured for failing. A knife in the chest. The blade came out the back. Sam was panicking. She couldn´t think of anything else. She was trapped. She was being tortured in her head. She still couldn´t breath. O´Neill started to panick himself. He shook her harder. He didn´t know what else to do.
"Carter!"
Nothing. She still tried to breath but couldn´t. He held her face in both his hands and looked her in the eye.
"Sam!"
Something stirred. She was inside of his head. She saw everything. Something in O´Neill tried to stop it but it couldn´t. She saw. His son. When he´d first met Daniel. What exact thought had gone through his head when he´d first seen her. Her eyes suddenly focused. O´Neill was still panicking. She couldn´t die. He couldn´t let it happen. What had they done to themselves? His breath was short. Suddenly, she breathed. She took in air and let it out. She calmned down. Something lingered between both of them. O´Neill felt it and he knew she did too. He couldn´t let her go. He saw confusion and a whole bunch of other emotions go through Sam´s eyes before she finally gave up. She closed her eyes. She went to sleep. O´Neill got up. Slowly. He knew. She knew. They both knew everything. He sat back down on the floor. This was not good. He looked at her. All the knowledge of everything they felt. They´d shared that. He wouldn´t forget it. She wouldn´t either. How was he supposed to act now? How was she? He ran a hand through his hair. This was not good.
