Warnings: Some "torture" near the end, with a bit of a grueling touch. Not too bad, though.
Elusive
Sleep came easy to Marla that night, being as flat-out tired as she was. Being the currently highest-ranking military woman constantly on base, she had her own special "room" in the women's barracks. So she was wonderfully shielded from the other women's childish, unnecessarily stupid giggling and gossiping about the goings-on around the SGC.
Marla Jameson did not take part in such petty things as discussing which male scientist or officer—topics varied day to day—was "hottest" and frankly found the fact that any of her comrades would positively degrading.
And tonight, she was too busy drifting right off into sleep's welcoming arms to snap her displeasure at those women.
Considering the earlier assault on her mind about Chris, as she wandered away into slumber, Marla feared what the night might bring for her, whether it was nightmares or positively crazy, dignity-robbing dreams of the "what if?" genre. She wasn't sure she could stand either—the latter being more worrisome to her than the former.
That didn't stop her sleeping mind.
------
"Mar, you're doing it again." Chris's high-pitched voice was a tight but playful warning from beside her as she stood in the line for the commissary's food bar.
"Doing what, Chris?" she asked, turning her green eyes back towards the major from where they'd been focusing on an interesting couple a few tables away.
Rolling his eyes, he fixed his commanding officer with a stare. "Oh, you know perfectly well what. You were staring at Doctor Jackson again, and pretty much gawking, I might add."
"Was not," Marla adamantly denied. "I was not 'gawking' at Jackson. I was watching him and that alien woman—Mal Doran, ain't it?" The line had dwindled down far enough that Marla was able to take a tray and start down the length of the bar. "Just watching, mind you, Mr. High and Mighty Christopher Grouper, not gawking."
"Uh-huh. And why exactly were you 'watching'?" Also taking a tray, Chris followed.
"They're interesting." Taking a plate of something that was supposedly mashed potatoes and gravy, but probably had the consistency of gum and the flavor of wood, Marla was faintly touched by the odd sensation of déjà vu. It was a small feeling, but it nagged frustratingly at the back of her mind.
Making a face and pretending to gag, Chris understandably bypassed the hesitantly termed potatoes. "Oh, come on, Mar. I know what you're doing. They're your latest puzzle to figure out. You do this all the time." Pausing, he took a bowl of salad. "You know, you have to stop treating people like they're puzzle pieces."
"I do not treat people like puzzle pieces!" Noticing that the volume of her voice had attracted attention from a few officers and scientists nearby, Marla continued to load her tray and turned the volume of her voice down. "You know I don't, Chris."
She took her tray—now loaded with lots of different colored but oddly equal-flavored things—and sat at the nearest table, with her second-in-command taking a seat on the opposite side.
"You know you do, Mar," he countered strongly. "The only interest you generally show in anybody is fascination with the way they work."
Sighing and regretfully mouthing a forkful of tasteless something-or-other, Marla rolled her eyes. Chris never saw these things the way they were.
After making a face at the taste of whatever it was he'd just shoveled into his mouth, Chris smiled and threw a glance at the object of his best friend's attentions. Doctor Jackson was apparently choking at something that his loud-mouthed, shameless companion had said, and the previously mentioned Vala was just grinning.
"So, what's so interesting about them?" Chris said casually, forking another blob of so-called "food."
"Oh, curious now, aren't we, Chrissy?" Marla taunted, raising an eyebrow. "It's not such a bad habit of me observing people when you want to know what it is I see, is it? Curiosity killed the cat, you know, Chrissy."
"Stop calling me Chrissy, Mar!" the major protested. "You know I don't like that. And if you must know, yes, darn it, I am very curious! So kill the cat, because I'm curious."
Giving her friend a smug smile, Marla again had the feeling of déjà vu—this time stronger. Frowning, she turned her gaze over to Jackson and Mal Doran, still avidly arguing some unknown point. "Well, I'm just marveling at how Jackson and Mal Doran 'bicker like an old married couple,' as they say, but they, well, I don't know exactly… they have chemistry and kind of defer to each other like lovers."
"Maybe they are," Chris suggested, following Marla's stare.
Trying not to laugh, she turned back to her 2IC and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I don't think so."
And that's when Marla realized why she kept feeling that déjà vu. It wasn't just her feeling like she'd done this before. With an almost visible start, she remembered beyond doubt that she had done this before.
I'm dreaming, she suddenly realized, relieved. That solves the puzzle, through and through. It fits perfectly.
"Mar?" Chris's concerned voice broke into her thoughts. "What's wrong?"
Let's not tell him. Just savor the memory, because it's about all you've got left. "Nothing, Chris, nothing." She stabbed absently at a wiggling yet solid blob of… wait, hadn't she already eaten the meatloaf? "I was just thinking."
"Ah, thinking can be a dangerous thing, you know," Chris said, poking the air with his shining fork. He swallowed a big mouthful of something, looking up at his commander and shaking the very same fork at her. "Very, very dangerous."
Smiling at him, Marla shook her head at the opportunity Chris had just opened. "Only for you, Chris Grouper. Thinking is only dangerous for you."
"No, Marla, thinking got dangerous for you a while ago." The sheer seriousness in his tone—being something Marla had never heard from Christopher Grouper before—made her head snap up to look at him.
And then she realized that she did not remember this part at all. This is where she left memory behind for sheer, unconscious dreaming.
"What do you mean, Chris?"
The solemnity in his blue eyes was complete and just about sent real shivers down Marla's spine. He paused before answering the question and worry and fear built deep in her gut like she'd never really felt before.
"You've gotten to the place where you're too afraid to live, Mar. Everything has to be thought through, start to finish and all possible outcomes accounted for before you ever do anything. And then you have to take it slow and safe. You're not living, you're thinking about it." The way he spit it out was like the worst of curses. "So where does that leave me? Wishing to all the powers in the entire galaxy that the regs didn't exist and that you were actually human?" He pounded his fists against the table angrily. "Wishing that I didn't actually fall for someone I can't have? Because you know what, if the regs didn't completely forbid it, you'd still make it impossible, Marla. Even if I admitted I love you, you would never say it back!"
-------
She gasped and sat bolt upright even before she was fully conscious, feeling the familiar feeling of sticky sweat making her clothes hug her skin and her short hair mat and cling to her forehead. The sudden movement hurt her bandaged ribs and jerked her splinted foot. Had she been any lesser person with any lesser pain threshold, she would have screamed. Given her moment of weakness though, Marla did gasp and moan.
And for the first time in an eternity, she felt salty tears coursing down her face and eventually dropping into her open mouth.
Then gradually sniffling became harsh, racking sobs and she flopped onto her side, clutching the thick blankets to her chest with her intact arm. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and let the tears flow, gasping along with the sobs as she shivered with the cold weight on her heart.
Crying her heart out to the darkness, she finally mourned her lost lover.
-------
After fretting over what her sleep might bring, Vala had finally fallen deep into slumber and traded the real world for that of dreams. And no matter how she tried to fight it, she plunged right away into a bottomless dream.
At first, she didn't really realize that it was a dream as it seemed so real and the world around her was the one she had left behind when she closed her eyes. If she turned slightly to one side—carefully so as not to harm her broken collarbone—she saw Daniel sitting in the chair at her bedside.
But when things around her began to fuzz and swim a little, Vala realized what she saw wasn't actually there.
Oh, well. Twice the fun.
"Daniel, what're you doing here?" she asked casually, partially worried about what he'd say.
"To ask you something," he answered.
"Well, then ask away, because I'm all ears."
Something about the look on his face just spoke to her, saying, "You're not going to like this question." And when he actually voiced it, she had to say that her supposition was straight-on right.
It was the question she'd been expecting before, but had been graciously denied: "When you were with the Ori, why did you call out my name?"
Being a career thief, Vala had adopted habits that could not be shaken. Call them emotion survival skills, since generally speaking that's what they were. One of the biggest of them was that you never—and that meant never—put yourself in a position of weakness. Lie if you had to, just avoid the weak point by all means.
And that's what she did.
"I didn't," she flatly denied.
Daniel's eyes narrowed. "You can't lie your way out of this one, Vala. Colonel Jameson told me everything and even though I don't know Jameson well, I'm willing to trust her word far beyond yours."
That hurt. One of the biggest things Vala had ever wanted from Daniel was his trust. Wasn't that the reason she'd almost gotten herself killed in the incident with the Ori beachhead?
But Vala still was not going to take the low ground.
"Fine, don't believe me," she huffed, folding her arms, cast and all. "You never do."
Sighing loudly, Daniel crossed his arms over his chest as well. "That's because you're a liar, a cheat and a thief."
Pouting, Vala turned her face away from him to stare at a considerably less handsome wall. "Call me what you will, but I am not a liar." She knew that in itself was a lie, but she still would not relinquish her position to Daniel. First rule of war, never give anything to the enemy and in this argument, Daniel Jackson was the adversary.
"You're still lying," he insisted. "Just tell me why of all things, you continuously called out my name while you were in the Ori galaxy."
She could feel her sound defense crumbling already at Daniel's insistence, gradually growing cracks in the well-structured wall. "I don't know," she lied again, this time trying desperately to pour all of the sincerity she could muster into her voice and face.
Being sharp as he was, Daniel didn't take the lie this time either. "Yes, you do. You just don't want to say it."
Again, she reflexively denied everything. "No, I don't know why." But she could hear the insincerity in her own voice and she knew that her resistance was falling to pieces around her.
"Just tell me, Vala."
The quiet, pained begging in his voice finally crumpled Vala's defense.
"Because the whole time, I was wanting you, just to be beside you," she blurted, feeling the beginning of tears. By the gods, when was the last time Vala Mal Doran had really cried? "I wanted you to hold me tight and tell me everything would be alright. Like you held me after I was burned to death. Because you were the one person I thought of the whole time, and I couldn't stand being away anymore!"
-----
Eyes flying open, Vala reflexively stiffened. Warily she scanned the room for other occupants. Luckily though, she saw no one else, not even a lingering nurse.
Good, she could deal with this alone.
Memory flashing back to the dream, Vala swore something fierce and colorful under her breath. How could she allow even her unconscious mind to go there? She dreaded where it had taken her to, even if it was just a dream. Because it had taken her to a place she could never go:
The weak, open ground.
If all she'd said in the dream was how she unconsciously felt… Vala knew she was in deep trouble, thick emotional trouble. But she lived a life full of secrets and hidden emotional baggage carried from her childhood. If she had to bury one more away in her heart, it wouldn't make that much of a difference.
-----
Relieved to be finally putting today behind him, Daniel sighed as he peeled off his shirt and climbed into bed. He could feel the tension already melting away as he tangled himself in the blankets. Removing and folding them, he placed his glasses on his bedside nightstand, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Today had been eventful and taxing.
And the vast majority of that had to do with Vala's wild return. While he had to admit he was relieved to have her back and he felt more complete in her presence—he'd go to the grave blaming that on the bracelets' apparently lingering—no, make that lasting effects—but it also made him worry.
And then there was the disturbing thought of an even tougher-shelled Vala—
Rolling over, Daniel groaned and sighed as he forced those concerns out of his mind. Vala could stay off of his brain at least long enough to let him catch some much needed sleep.
It wasn't long before he began dreaming.
------
He heard the strangled, feminine screams echoing down a golden hallway he didn't recognize, though he felt like he should. And they, along with some unseen and almost indistinguishable force, pulled him onward.
To the source of the shouts and the center of the invisible pull.
Every step that he took, the pulling got stronger until he was running down the endlessly winding corridors. The faster he ran, the closer the walls seemed to press in on him, pressuring him to sprint even quicker.
But the long, curving hallways never appeared to stop—or have any end—and eternity dragged by as he pushed himself faster.
Suddenly, he realized he knew those screams. He'd heard them before and the memory froze his blood as he kept on running, speeding up even more at the cold, hard realization.
Those were the same screams Vala had made as she was burned alive.
And this time, Daniel had to stop it.
He rounded a corner and skidded to a halt in a large room with her chained by the wrists to the opposite wall. The room's expansive width separated them and a Prior stood between the pair, staff poised with its power end at Vala.
That didn't stop Daniel from seeing the panic in her gray eyes, surrounded by a bloody face, as she glanced up. Tears flowed down her face, mingling themselves with blood and becoming deep crimson themselves before falling down and staining the floor. And they formed a scarlet puddle against the gold of the floor at Vala's knees.
She mouthed his name, but the scraping noise that escaped between her lips didn't sound at all like "Daniel."
Oblivious to the exchange, the Prior lifted his staff and pointed the glowing end at Vala.
Though he didn't remember making it, Daniel's ears heard his own desperate voice shouting Vala's name as he dove forward desperately, trying to do the impossible and stop the Prior. His legs were aching from running down the corridors, but he didn't notice the jolts of pain now as he lunged.
He was too slow. Too slow.
Glowing with an eerie gray-blue radiance, the end of the staff stabbed into Vala's chest, rippling flesh around it as it went through. It charred and burnt her flesh, instantly cauterizing the wound with an intense heat before it was even removed.
And the Prior pulled it back out, waving its clean tip in the air.
"And so ends the torture for your disobedience," he intoned flatly. "May your death reconcile you with the power of the Ori, disbeliever."
Before Daniel could extract revenge, the powdery faced Prior disappeared into thin air without so much as a whisper of air. With the object of his attack thus vanished, Daniel skidded to a stop and dropped down onto his knees.
Mouth working open and closed but making no sound, Vala was in obvious pain as a single line of blood ran down from her newly inflicted wound, drawing a crimson tear line across her shirt. Then a scratchy croak escaped, followed by a harsh coughing fit.
Not caring about the scarlet puddle that he'd just sank his knees into, Daniel drew his arms around Vala, feeling the line of her warm blood running down the front of his shirt. It would stain the fabric most definitely, but while those stains might fade, the ones on his heart had no such hope.
She was dying, and again he'd been powerless to stop it.
"Vala," he groaned her name, feeling the knife of guilt plunging into his gut again like it never had before. He was almost tempted to look down and see if there actually was a silver blade projecting from his abdomen.
Coughing in reply, the only thing that came from Vala's mouth was more blood. The thick, sticky liquid stained her lips and dribbled out of the side of her already bloody, marred face.
"Oh, Vala, no."
She looked up to his face, gray eyes clouding over as the cold shadow of Death inched closer. And she gasped as she tried to say something in reply.
"Shh," he whispered. "Don't say anything. You don't have to."
Gasping for breath, she kept trying anyway. Finally, she formed words in a tone so light he almost didn't realize she'd spoken at all. It was just a whisper on the breeze of her breath.
This was worse than watching her burn to death!
He pulled her even closer so her struggling, bloody lips were at his ear so he could hear her light speech. Still, her few words came in almost silent gasps that he had to strain to understand.
"Da—n—iel," she whispered, choppy breath blowing against his ear, "I l—lo—v…"
Eyes squeezing shut, Daniel drew his arms tighter around her in expectation of her words. If these were to be her last, they had to be important. And if she was really saying what he thought she was…
But she never got to finish. She gave another bloody cough and her breath caught. Mouth opening and closing, she failingly gasped for breath as her eyes slid closed.
Horrified, Daniel pulled her even tighter, pressing his clean cheek against her sticky one and whispered his own words in her ear.
"No, Vala, no," he insisted tightly. "Don't go. Just hold on and we'll get you help."
But she was already going and there was nothing that either of them could do to stop it. She took in one last shuddering gasp of breath, and she stopped breathing. The life force left her body behind, and she went on to whatever otherworld there might be.
Daniel was left holding her lifeless body.
------
"No! Vala, no!"
The strangled shout escaped his mouth in a scratchy, desperate scream. It held out long and loud as the emotion swelled in his chest.
Reflexively, he tried to move, but being twisted in the covers, he only succeeded in tangling himself up more and flailing over the edge of the bed onto the floor. His knees hit first, sending a painful jar up the length of his thighs. Next to slam into the hard ground was his chest, jerking his neck back painfully.
For a moment, Daniel just laid on the floor, trying to force the worked-up adrenaline out of his system. And he quietly cursed his nightmare and the pain throughout his body from his unceremonious meeting with the floor in about seven different languages—one of the great benefits of being a multi-lingual specialist.
Oh, I'm in a mess now, he thought with a groan. Dreaming about Vala. Oh…