"Wake up pretty girl." Teyla felt someone's hot breath mixed with spittle brush against her sore right cheek. One of the many bruises she'd be feeling for days. They wanted her to wake up, but the person's voice seemed to come from miles away. The closer she became to lucidity the more her head pounded. She felt herself begin to slip back into oblivion, and she welcomed it. There she was safe, no pain, no screaming, no cells. In the darkness she could be left alone, she could forget the haunted and terrified look in John Sheppard's eyes as he'd convulsed on the floor. She was so close to forgetting…No, he needs you to be strong, to fight back, not just lie here and sleep. He needs me to stay alive….for both our sakes.
Consciousness proved to be quite elusive. Crawling out of a bog of quicksand would have been easier. Every time she thought she reached the surface, she was drug back down. But Teyla was not the yielding type. She fought, and after what seemed like days had passed, she became aware of voices in the distance. She could feel a cold, grainy substance against the left side of her face, and smell something earthy. Dirt or clay maybe. As she cracked open an eye it took all her control not to scream. The dim light penetrated her skull like an ice pick. Much to her relief the pain began to fad to a dull ache within moments. It must be a side effect of whatever they gave me. Teyla rubbed her throbbing temples with her right hand. The other seemed to be pinned beneath something. She wiggled her fingers and had to stifle a bitter laugh. You fool, you are laying on it.. Shifting her weight, she slid her numb arm out from under her side and began rotating her wrist until most of the feeling had returned. Not wanting to chance another splitting headache she reached out with her other finely tuned senses as her father had taught her many years ago, when she was still a child in many ways.
"We may not always have our sight to rely on daughter, you must learn to see in other ways."
"I know father, total awareness only comes from utilizing all of our bodies senses. I just do not see how this will ever help me. If the Wraith come, will they not just pluck us off the ground into their vessels. How can being able to smell them really be of any assistance."
Her father smiled and bent down to meet his stubborn child's eyes. "Someday you will lead our people Teyla, I trust as you grow older you will understand my teachings."
"Yes father. But that will not be for many years."
He reached out and stroked her cheek. "I hope so, but we never know what the future may bring, so you must prepare."
"I do not want to sit still and listen to the sounds of the village. I want to travel and explore our world. Maybe even see others."
"If anyone can Teyla, it is you. You are too headstrong to be denied anything if you want it enough. But for now, keep your mind here."
Teyla felt a surge of pride. Her father believed in her. "Okay father, you can teach me"
He grinned, "Good." He gave her a mischievous smile, "You never know, perhaps you may even find a husband in your travels."
"Father…"
Teyla basked in the warmth of the memory. Well father, let us see how much I learned.
No gag, which means they do not care if I call out. Probably no one around who either could or would want to help anyway. Grounds hard and gritty, so I am most likely on a dirt floor, which would explain the smell. Can not move my legs to far at the ankles, so I have been bound. My arms are free, might be able to use that to my advantage. That is assuming I can ever see again. It is much quieter than where we were being held earlier, and the voices have stopped. Perhaps I am alone, or they are watching me right now, biding their time. Only one way to find out.
Taking a relaxing breath, Teyla tensed and cracked on eyelid open. She braced herself for the mind numbing pain, but it never came. After a few nerve wracking moments she opened her other eye. I should have kept them closed.
Swallowing hard, she struggled to keep her face passive and her breathing steady. Her gaze was frozen to a wooden table three feet from her face. She had seen some of the things on it before. John had shown or described many of them to her not long after she had begun going off world. He had wanted her to be prepared for the "worst case scenario." John had explained in great detail what could happen if she were to be taken prisoner. But it was not until this moment, lying on the floor completely helpless, did she truly understand the depths of what could be done to her. The little squeak Rodney had uttered while Sheppard had described some of the different techniques in explicit detail, had made her laugh at the time. But now she had to bite her bottom lip until she tasted blood to keep from uttering the same sound.
She had never seen so many objects capable of inflicting pain in one place. There were blades in all shapes and sizes. One was ribbed and covered in dried blood, she felt ants crawl up her spine as she tried not imagine what damage it could inflict . Another was rusty and curved, it reminded Teyla off a half-moon, then there was the small tray full of needles and small throwing knives. The back of the table was hard to see, but she could make out the outline of a large weapon. If she had to guess, it was the same as they had used on both her and Colonel Sheppard to subdue them originally. Her gaze drifted back to the large, bloody, jagged blade. She shook her head and forced her gaze to less offensive areas. There were no bars, she was in a box for lack of a better word. The walls were solid and brown. There was no window, or even a door. It must have been hidden, if there was a way in there had to be a way out. Even the walls themselves were tainted with echoes of violence. Dried blood was splattered on all four sections of the room. She felt nauseas as she recognized one red streak was in the shape of a handprint, small scratches outlined it. Someone had tried to claw their way out of this place. She blinked back tears. What poor soul was last in here?
She momentarily forgot to breath as she saw the drawing on the wall to her far left. A large eye surrounded by swirls of purple and blue seemed to peer into her soul. Their god apparently enjoyed watching people suffer. I can not believe I actually found that design to be attractive. Against her better judgment she found herself staring at he jagged weapon again. How could anyone be so cruel and ……
"Have you had time to tour your new residence?"
…..Uncaring. Where did he come from? Hiding all traces of surprise and fear, she met Gwein's hateful stare with her own.
"It is lovely, do you treat all you guests with such hospitality?"
He walked around the room toward the weapons casually, as if he were taking a stroll through a garden to pick a flower. But it wasn't a rose he plucked from the table. He held the long, curved blade in one hand and caressed it's tip with his other. "Only ones as delicate as you my dear," he whispered never taking his eyes off the item in his hands.
"I think you will find I am much more resilient than you believe," she said with a conviction she didn't know she possessed.
His stare finally met hers, "You speak very bravely for someone who's about to experience a level of pain most are lucky enough to never know exists." He ran his long tongue over the sharp edge of the blade and licked his lips. " I love the taste of suffering, it makes me feel….alive."
Teyla simply glowered in his direction. "I will tell you nothing."
He strolled over to her feet, "I am sure you believe that" He cocked his head and stared at her with hunger in his black eyes. "At the moment."
Gwein waved his hand in her direction. The wall opened to reveal a hidden door. No wonder I did not see him enter. Two Kithchak donning black masks paraded into the room. They were practically jumping for joy at the prospect of causing her suffering.
"Hold her," Gwein ordered them.
Despite her bonds, she tried to kick the smallest one in the groin, but he shifted out of the way and she only grazed his hip. Before she could take a breath, she was pinned to the cold wall behind her, both arms held in a death grip by his accomplices. Gwein began walking toward her, like an animal stalking it's prey. His slender fingers danced over the blade.
Her pulse was racing, her skin coated with sweat, she could feel herself panicking. John give me the strength. She closed her eyes and thought back to her lessons.
"Take yourself away from the pain, try to go to a place where you feel safe and loved. Tune out what's happening to you. It's hard, but believe me. it can mean the difference between coming out of the situation sane, or in a straight jacket."
"You sound like your speaking from experience Major," she asked sadly.
"I am. That's why I'm teaching you this, I want you to be safe Teyla."
In the back of her mind she vaguely heard Gwein's sinister voice taunt her, "You think closing your eyes will help."
It didn't matter, she felt calmer, more in control. John had lived through this, so could she. Let him talk, it was far better than the alternative. She felt her mind taking her away from this hell. It took her to her safe haven, to Atlantis. More specifically to the training room with John Sheppard. Back to when he had kissed her senseless, had looked at her the way a man never had before. She had been the only thing that had existed to him at that moment, she could stay in that memory forever.
Gwein's threats faded further and further away, she thought her brain registered the clanging of two blades together, but she wasn't sure.
She could almost feel the warmth of his lips on hers, his tongue dancing with hers. See the lust in his sexy, intelligent eyes. His passion scared me at the time, now I would give anything to have him look at me like that again.
Her mind continued to wander as she forced herself to ignore reality. Things had changed since that day in many ways. He had never mentioned their kiss again. But there had been several occasions when she had walked in on John and Rodney deep in discussion, they would become quiet as soon as they saw her approach. Her gut reaction had been that one of them was angry with her, but she had cornered Dr. Mckay one day two weeks ago and he had assured her that was not the case. He had then winked at her and giggled whenever John engaged her in conversation. Then the Colonel very politely told him to shut up, or he would make sure he only had field rations to eat all week. Rodney had not so much as grinned in their direction the rest to the day.
She sighed. Knowing she might die here today, and never get the chance to tell him she was not sorry for their kiss and wished he would do it again….and again. If I live through this, I will tell him.
Her tormentors hot, rank breath was invading her nostrils, forcing her attention. His voice was edgy, probably annoyed at he lack of reaction to his words. She was not sure how much time had passed while she found solace in her dreams.
His voice became harder to tune out as he became enraged. Her eyes flew open as her cheek blazed with renewed pain. Gwein's eyes were filled with rage, "How dare you ignore me woman. Since words don't scare you, maybe this will."
He brought the curved blade to her neck and smiled, "Paying attention now aren't we?"
She felt more than heard his minions grunt with anticipation as he leaned in and licked her bleeding face.
She jerked her head to the side, but it was pointless. She couldn't go anywhere. The most she could do was hope for a chance to head butt the piece of shit.
"You taste good. Let us see if you have any different flavors."
Closing her eyes, fighting the rising anxiety, she saw John's handsome face and prayed she could endure this. As she felt the blade dig into her arm she made a vow. No matter what he does to me, I will not scream. If I can do that, telling John how I feel will seem like nothing. Of course, that is assuming I do not die first.
He pressed the blade against her stomach, John was right, and slowly and deliberately made a cut all the way across, the dream is better.