AN: Okay gang, we are getting into more of the events on the planet. Things are referenced, alluded to, but nothing too graphic. Fortunately or unfortunately, sometimes our mind can fill in things even without details. So, take a deep breath. Not Sam's piece yet, but there is more than one type of horrendous act going on in this story. Situation and language warnings still in effect.
***SG1***SG1***
"Major Jonathan Hitch, SG10," the middle aged man recited into the microphone for the official record.
"Thank you for your time today Major, and my deepest condolences on the loss of your team members," Colonel Nelson stated, sizing up the dark haired man before him. He had not met him before but his service record indicated he was a solid officer. "I know you are still recuperating from your injuries so if at any time you need a break, please let us know."
"I'm fine, sir," Hitch stated squaring his shoulders and ignoring the timbers of pain running through his torso the move caused him. Waiting until the Pentagon officer broke eye contact, Jon glanced toward O'Neill and nodded slightly in greeting. He had not seen his superior officer since they had each been removed from the general area of the infirmary and placed in separate isolation rooms. Getting a silent skeptical inquiry into his true wellbeing, Jon allowed a slight shrug and smirk to escape. Leave it to O'Neill to see through someone else's bullshit screen.
"Colonel O'Neill has detailed events for the first part of your detention. He stated that after all several attempts to persuade you, everyone was doused with some sort of liquid and that your team was taken away. Can you tell us where you were taken and what happened?"
Shifting slightly, Hitch nodded. "We were taken to what they called a training facility." Eyes flashed toward O'Neill to measure his reaction to his words. "It was more like slaughter pens."
"What was their purpose?" Colonel French asked.
Looking down, Jon trailed his fingers across the top of the table for a moment, absently looking at his bruised and scabbed knuckles. "Ever seen one of those cage matches in wrestling? You know where two guys are put into a ring with wire around it and it's supposedly no holds barred?" Waiting until he saw the two Colonels indicate they knew what he was referring to, he continued. "It was like that, except there were at least six in the ring at a time and it there were no rules, no limits. If you survived, you got to walk out of it." Frowning, a slight shudder ran through his body with the memory. "That's uh... how they determined who were the best fighters for their cause." Verbal quotation marks of derision surrounded the description. "Essentially you were expected to beat the others to death," he summed up. Looking away and ducking his head, his breath hitched in his chest. "It was fucking brutal," he added hoarsely.
"Your team was forced to participate."
A short nod confirmed the statement before he cleared his throat. "Shelby first, then me. Right before you go in, they stabbed a needle of something into your neck. Think it was that stuff that we were sprayed with." Spreading his hands, he pressed them on the table. "It messed with me pretty bad." Closing his eyes, he shook his head and shifted. "Lieutenant Werner, Doctor Matson... I, uh, didn't see..." He stopped snapping his mouth shut.
"They shot Matson when he panicked and tried to escape. Werner was in with guys almost twice his size and experience. He didn't stand a chance," O'Neill said quietly. Nothing would be served by saying any more than that; by passing on details of how the younger man knew he was going to die and yet tried so hard to stay alive. How he had barely made it ten minutes from the time he had been shoved into the pen until he was lying lifeless on the floor being stomped on like trash as the others continued to fight and kill each other. Locking eyes with the Major, Jack sent his condolences for the loss and apologies for being unable to stop either man's death.
"You saw it?" Matson's voice was course and haunted.
"Carter and I were shoved into a room next to the one that Matson and Werner were in. There were windows all around it and we could see everything." A brief wince of pain flashed across his face before he steeled his features and continued. "You," Jack watched Hitch who was staring at him with glassy eyes, "were in the cage in front of us when we got there. I didn't see Shelby anywhere."
"Do you know why you and Major Carter were kept separate?"
Jack shook his head. "At the time, I thought we were next." A crease imbedded itself in his brow. "They kept saying how much they were looking forward to seeing me in action," he spit out, his jaw clenched.
"Did you try to escape?" French asked, running appraising eyes over O'Neill before noting on his paper the clenched fists and bouncing leg indicating his stress. He felt more than saw the brown eyes boring into him.
"Little fucking hard to do with your hands tied and your own damn gun pressed into your back."
"The same?" Nelson asked Hitch raising his hand to let him know he was referring to his wrists being tied up and being held at gunpoint.
Nodding, Hitch confirmed the same. "They took them off right before they shoved me into the cage."
***SG1***SG1***
"Hey Sam," Janet called out as she neared the bed the woman was easing herself onto. "Hurting?" she asked already knowing the answer.
"Oh yeah," Sam breathed out, easing herself back. Blowing out a breath to try to block out the misery, she asked, "Why is it worse now?"
"Could be an infection," Janet said somberly. "I'm more inclined however to think that its because your hormones are rebounding some, dropping below normal," she added when she caught Daniel's questioning look. "Fewer endorphins to help her body deal with the pain." Nodding to the men to indicate they could go, she refocused back to Carter. "Let's take a look and see what we need to do. Okay?"
"We'll go scope out what's for lunch," Daniel said lightly, reaching down to squeeze Sam's hand. Stepping back, he tipped his head for Janet to follow him. "How long?" he asked as they stepped away from the bed.
"Give us at least forty-five minutes, maybe an hour," she said quietly. "I may have to give her a mild sedative before I can examine her."
"She, uh," Daniel winced looking away for a minute before returning his gaze. "She had a panic attack coming over here."
"Damn," Janet breathed, glancing back to make sure she was okay. "Anything else?"
"She said that touching one of us helps her. Let's her know she's not going to to be hurt again."
Nodding, Janet swallowed and raised stricken eyes towards Daniel. "I'm not sure we have the resources here to help her. And," Janet paused, drawing a shaky breath. "Sending her someplace else without knowing what's going to happen to the Colonel will kill her."
Squeezing her arm, Daniel gave her a tight smile. "It's enough for now." Switching his gaze to the bed, he added softly, "It has to be."
Swallowing back the tears that she wished she could cry, Janet drew in another shuddering breath. Closing her eyes briefly, she mentally shook herself. "You're right." Squaring her shoulders, she returned to being Doctor Fraiser. "I'll call you when we're done."
Moving back to the bed, Janet gave Teal'c a tight smile in response to his slight bow before he left. "Okay," she said lightly, catching Sam's eye. "Let's start with something simple, shall we?" she asked pulling the stethoscope from her pocket.
Listening to her lungs and heart, Janet kept an eye on Sam's reaction. "Lungs are clear," she said reaching for the blood pressure cup. Wrapping it on her arm she began to pump it up as her eyes tracked over to where Sam's eyes were focused. It was the bed Carter had been in when she was first brought back from the planet. Refocusing on the dial she released the valve and read the pressure before returning her gaze to Sam's features.
"Do we need to move to a different room?" Janet asked her softly, watching as she stared at the bed across the aisle on the other end of the room. "Sam?" she asked tightening her grip on her arm to draw her attention. "You okay?"
Carter glanced briefly at the doctor before returning her gaze. "Where was the Colonel?" she asked softly. "Which bed?"
A frown creased Janet's brow. "Over here," she replied gesturing behind her. "Why?"
"Was the curtain drawn?" Sam asked, her fingers gripping the sheet below her to pull herself into a sitting position.
Shaking her head, Janet couldn't figure out why she was asking. "I don't see what..."
"Was the curtain drawn?" Sam snapped hoarsely, her eyes tracking along the railing above the bed in question.
"I think so," Janet answered hesitantly. "Sam, what is it?"
"He couldn't have known it was me there," Sam whispered, her eyes becoming unfocused as she fought to remember something. Her eyes suddenly widened and her breathing picked up. "Oh my god," she choked out, panic and horror evident in her tone.
"Sam," Janet called, alarmed. "What is it?" she asked looking around for a threat. Seeing none she took Sam's hand. "You're safe."
Shaking her head emphatically, Sam pulled away and drew her legs up to roll into a ball. Ignoring the tears running down her face, she began to rock. "I screamed. I called for the Colonel. When Lieutenant Faber…." Sobs choked off any other words from escaping.
Closing her eyes, Janet swallowed. She had hoped that she wouldn't remember. "Shh," she said easing on the bed to wrap her arm around Sam's shoulder and pull her close. Catching the eye of the passing nurse she quietly gave an order for a sedative.
***SG1***SG1***
