For notes, warnings and disclaimers see chapter 1

Chapter 28: Kinetic Energy
(Sam's POV)

I know I'm trapped here and there's no way out of this one. In the past few months I've gotten to know the colonel fairly well and I know that he can be like a dog with a bone when he wants to be... and right now I can see that he most definitely wants to be. He seems determined to get himself some answers and I know that the more I fight him, the worse this is going to get. That means that the only thing I can do is answer his questions and hope that he will feel uncomfortable enough talking about this 'touchy-feely' stuff that he will back down on his own. It's a risky proposition --a high stakes game of chicken, one that will leave me way too exposed-- but the way I see it I don't really have a choice. My only option right now is to take Daniel's advice about not pretending to be doing better than I am and turning it into the basis for an offensive... I just hope I'll be able to control things but even that is looking like a rather iffy proposition. The problem is that the colonel is refusing to play by the rules and that means that all bets are off.

Up until now I had been counting on him avoiding the 'r-word', but now that that word's come into play I really don't know what to expect. He wants to know why I didn't say anything, well I guess I'll have to tell him... not everything, of course, but some of it. I don't want to do it, but unfortunately I don't think I have a choice here so I swallow hard and say:

"All I can say is that when we first got back from Simarka I was on autopilot. A part of me knew I was safe but I couldn't quite let myself believe it was all over just yet. I was still trying to sort the whole mess out in my head when we got to the infirmary... and then I saw Dr. Warner checking the three of you out first. He was feeling your necks, looking for injuries, for anything that could signal the presence of a Goa'uld and I panicked. I didn't want him touching me in any way but I knew there was no way for me to avoid it and just the thought of it was making me sick... literally. I didn't even want him to know that I had been hurt and I was trying to cling to the hope that my clothes would cover me enough so that he wouldn't even notice that there was anything wrong with me but, of course, it didn't turn out that way. When he was looking me over he noticed the ends of a couple of lash-marks on the back of my neck and that's when the real problems began.

"You were all still standing there --after all he hadn't exactly been expecting to find anything that might actually require some privacy. I usually don't mind but I admit I was feeling exposed. I know it's silly, sir, believe me, but I really couldn't help it... and then he asked me what had happened. I knew I was in trouble but I just wanted it to be over with so I told him that I had been caught trying to escape and had been punished for it. I tried to tell him that it wasn't a big deal but he wasn't really listening."

"I remember, that's when he told us to leave," says the colonel and I nod before going on.

"Yes. At first I honestly thought that you being gone was going to make things better but then I realized I was alone with him and that actually made it worse, a lot worse. I didn't want to be there, I wanted to be anywhere but there and yet I was trapped, just like I had been trapped in Turghan's tent. When he told me to take off my shirt and lie down on one of the beds so he could have a look at me I kind of freaked but I knew I couldn't let him know that, so I went into soldier mode, obeying his commands mechanically as I would have done with any really unpleasant assignment, not thinking, not volunteering any information, just giving him yes and no answers whenever possible. Luckily since I had been standing when Turghan beat me most of the marks were on my upper back and on my shoulders and as a result he had no real reason to ask me to undress any further than that.

"Anyway, he cleaned the cuts on my back but seeing how I didn't even need stitches he patched me up and after a few minutes he let me go telling me to take it easy for a few days and that I'd be off active duty until I could move freely. I was so relieved that I almost ran out of there and I joined you at the debriefing... and then the three of you and General Hammond started asking questions about what had happened and I just didn't know what to say. I wanted it to be over with but you kept asking for details and I knew that by not telling you what had really happened I was digging myself deeper and deeper into a hole but I didn't think I had a choice."

"God, Sam, I had no idea..." says the colonel before trailing off and that's the first indication I have that my strategy may be backfiring here: he just called me 'Sam'. He almost never calls me that and --if his use of my first name is anything to go by-- then I suspect he has no intention to back down any time soon... in fact I suspect he is going to keep pushing and I don't know how much more of this I can take. I'm tired, tired of people asking questions, tired of people prodding into things that are none of their business, but right now I can't afford to waste my energy thinking about that. Right now my top priority has to be to reestablish some sort of professional distance here, before this situation spins completely out of control.

"With all due respect, sir, you weren't supposed to... that was kind of the point of not telling you in the first place," I say, trying to get him to back down, trying to regain my composure or at least some semblance thereof.

"I know, but why?" he insists.

"The truth is I'm not sure, sir, all I can think of is that at the time I was running on instinct. I just wanted to forget but even here at the base everywhere I turned there were constant reminders... not to mention that I had never been so grateful for the fact that the stools in my lab have no backs. It took me about a week to be able to sit comfortably on a regular chair," I explain. To say that I was uncomfortable is not a lie, of course, but that's not the whole truth, still I'm hoping to be able to use that partial truth to get things back on safer footing here before I fall... and chairs are definitely safe.

"I remember you were working like crazy," he reminds me and I'm grateful that for once things seem to be going according to plan.

"I stayed here at the base full-time for the whole first week," I admit, trying to keep things on track.

"Why?"

"Part of the reason was that in a way the base felt safe," I say, knowing that if I don't provide him with some sort of explanation things will only get worse... and knowing that lying is not an option. "I had things to do here and I could keep myself busy... besides, what was I supposed to do? Go home and do nothing?"

"And the other part?" he prods.

"As I said, I couldn't sit comfortably on a regular chair and that did extend to sitting in my car," I explain, even though I had been hoping he wouldn't notice that I had only given him a partial answer. "I had no one to go home to, a neighbor was already looking after my cat and I wasn't looking forward to the daily commute so I didn't really see the point when I could just as well crash here."

"And now?"

"I'm at 100 percent, sir, it was just bruising," I say. "Sure, it was uncomfortable for a few days but I've been hurt worse."

"That's not what I meant and you know it, Carter," he growls.

"I know, sir, but I'm doing fine, really... it's just hard for me to explain sometimes, that's all," I say, wishing that he'd let it go but knowing that he probably won't. This is not going according to plan. The colonel is refusing to allow himself to be thrown off the trail and the truth is that I'm getting more than a little nervous here.

"Have you tried explaining it to anyone?" he asks, even though I suspect he already knows what the answer to that particular question is going to be.

"Not really," I admit, unable to keep myself from sighing.

"Why not? That's what I don't understand, why go through all of that alone?" he insists.

"After what happened with Dr. Warner I knew I couldn't come clean so..."

"What do you mean 'you couldn't come clean'? Why not?" he asks.

"Don't you see? What happened in Simarka, it was bad and I really wish it could have been avoided but the thing is that after I didn't tell Dr. Warner the truth about what had happened I knew I couldn't tell anyone else either, not without finding myself in a lot of trouble, but don't worry, sir, I can still do my job," I say, growing increasingly defensive and hiding behind the 'official' explanation for my silence, even though I suspect that that particular explanation is not quite cutting it here.

"It's not your damned job I'm worried about, it's you!" he snaps. "You were hurt! Heck even when we thought that creep had 'only' whipped you we should have..."

"But he didn't, sir," I interrupt before he can blow things even more out of proportion.

"He didn't what?" he asks, sounding more than a little confused.

"Whip me," I explain.

"Are you kidding me?" he yells.

"No, sir," I say, barely resisting the urge to take a step back.

"I saw your back, Carter, remember?" he growls.

"Yes, sir. He hit me, I'm not denying that, but I wasn't whipped. The thing he used on me wasn't a whip, it was a flogger and not even a heavy one at that, so he didn't really whip me," I insist, trying to get him to understand. "You see, the tails of the flogger he used weren't really all that heavy and they were fairly flexible. They were also less than two feet long and even though the ends were knotted they were not weighted in any other way and they weren't particularly aerodynamic --especially because there were about a dozen of them or so-- so even though they were painful, their limited mass and the fact that the arch they described wasn't really all that big meant that the amount of energy they could accumulate before impact was not..."

"Carter, just listen to yourself for a moment, for crying out loud! You are trying to describe the whip that bastard used to beat the crap out of you by using a mathematical formula and...!"

"It wasn't a whip it was a..." I interrupt him... again.

"Whatever, I don't care what you call it!" he says, shaking his head, and something in his voice makes it abundantly clear that I'm standing on dangerously thin ice here. "The point is that you are not going to get me to believe that you are fine by trying to explain to me the physics behind the damned thing. This is not about some equation and you know it!"

"Sir?" I ask, not knowing what else to say.

"I told you, Carter, lose the 'sir'!" he says, for what feels like the hundredth time, the problem is that this time around I really don't know what he wants me to say.

It happened, there's nothing anyone can do to change that fact, why can't he just let it go, why can't they all just let it go? Ever since I went to Daniel's place last night it's been one 'heart-to-heart' after another, can't they see I'm fine? I mean, I can understand Janet going CMO on me, it's her job and I knew she wouldn't be happy that I hadn't said anything about this but luckily she agreed to help me... and the general agreed to go along with her but right now I'm tired and I do mean bone tired. It's like I'm having to prove to people I've been working with for the last seven months that I'm the same person I was seven months ago when all of this actually happened, that nothing's changed in the past few hours... and no matter what I say they won't believe me.

I know I can't afford to lose it with the colonel... I know I came close enough to doing just that with General Hammond and I don't intend to make the same mistake twice but the problem is that I know there's nothing I can possibly say, not now.

I understand where they are coming from, I really do. I know they are trying to adjust to what's for them new information but the thing is that they hold my future in their hands and I hate that. Maybe that's why Daniel's the one who seems the least scary of the bunch. Janet, the colonel or the general... all it would take is a word from any one of them and it would all be over for me... and that means I have to do whatever it takes to keep them from uttering that word.

Author's notes: I just wanted to thank you again for hanging with me and taking the time to review. I really appreciate it,

Alec