Stronger Now Than We Ever Were

Welcome to chapter 4 of Stronger, with some of the team and more of Cameron's captivity. Plot lies ahead!

Disclaimer: Stargate and its characters do not belong to me. I'm just playing in the Cosmic Sandbox here.

Chapter IV: Going Under

"Youforgot Mitchell?" Vala's voice carried every ounce of indignation she could muster. Her dark eyes glanced over each returned member of SG-1.

General Landry frowned at her, but turned to and focused his attention on SG-1, though of fewer members than nominal. He looked concerned, perhaps more than was appropriate for a commanding officer, but the SGC was more like a family than a military installation sometimes. "Sit Rep," he requested quickly.

Sam Carter, now effectively team leader in Cameron's absence, steeled her expression and squared her shoulders. "We were at the advance recon positions, as per mission scenario. The village looked deserted except for a few bodies," she was meeting Landry's stony look. "There were both dead Jaffa and Ori, sir. We later found out that Ba'al's Jaffa had overtaken the village from a small advance force of Ori soldiers."

"We can only assume that Ba'al's come up with kind of technology to render the Ori's powers ineffective, at least temporarily," Daniel supplied, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Vala thought he looked very handsome covered in dirt and all worked up over abandoning a team member. To his credit, Daniel largely managed to ignore her looks. Vala kept moving closer to him throughout their debriefing.

"Whatever they are using, it seemed to work," Sam added.

General Landry looked perplexed. "Are you speculating, or is there more to your little story here, Colonel?"

"Oh yes," Sam amended. "Colonel Mitchell suggested we advance on the town and take a look around, see if we could find any clues about what had happened there. We had just moved to new cover, when the Jaffa appeared."

"Colonel Mitchell and I were the first captured," Teal'c announced, his gruff shame betrayed through the stoic voice.

"It wasn't your fault, Teal'c," Daniel remarked, placing a hand on his shoulder. "None of us could have known there were still Jaffa patrolling the village. We hadn't seen any movement in hours."

"Doctor Jackson is right," Landry remarked evenly. "Let's move this to the briefing room."

SG-1, now light one Cameron Mitchell and plus one Vala Mal Duran, joined the SGC's commanding officer in the small briefing room near the control room. Landry sat and gestured for SG-1 to seat themselves too. "You were saying, Colonel?" he asked of Carter, asking her to continue the debriefing.

"Right, sir," she continued, tapping her fingers against the table. "Colonel Mitchell and Teal'c were captured first, and so couldn't warn us about the other patrol who had just walked past them. The Jaffa captured us all and marched us to the town center. Ba'al had a cloaked ship hidden there, and we were being marched inside just as another group of Ori soldiers started a skirmish at the village perimeter."

Landry steepled his fingers and watched Sam over them. "Was that the same end of town where you had reconned?"

"No, sir, that was to the north. Anyways, as the Ori attacked, Teal'c took out our guards and we took off. Daniel and I were ahead, hoping to get to the gate and have it dialed up by the time Camer – Mitchell, that is - and Teal'c arrived. We got to the Stargate just as another group of Jaffa arrived," Sam was talking quiet animatedly at that point. She was coming down off an adrenaline rush, like her teammates, and was nearly panting. "Teal'c and Mitchell arrived just after us. Mitchell was hurt, he must have injured his ankle on the way."

Teal'c intervened, leaning over the desk. "I believe Colonel Mitchell sprained his ankle when he jumped from the prison ship."

Landry nodded at Teal'c explanation. "Continue."

"Teal'c took out the other Jaffa while I dialed us out. When the Stargate was active, we ran through. I guess none of us thought to check on Mitchell, sir."

"He was definitely alive as you left, though?"

Now Daniel jumped into the conversation. "He was when I left the DHD, sir. He looked flushed, but fine."

Landry nodded a few times. The wheels of his mind were working behind his eyes. "We'll organize a retrieval mission. If Colonel Mitchell is still on 911, we'll find him."

Less than an hour later, General Landry was watching SG-1, now with Vala, and Samantha Carter commanding, suit up and go over a weapons check with several Marines borrowed from SG-9. They were going back to P4X-911 to look for any sign of Colonel Mitchell. He gave them the thumbs up after Sergeant Harriman announced the wormhole was stable. The team disappeared, and so did the general, off to his office to prepare for any aftermath.

"Time to call in a friend."

----

Two Jaffa deposited Cameron Mitchell back in the center of his cell. He was barely conscious. His shirt was now largely destroyed, though he saw no blood, much to his captor's credit. He did smell it though. The stench was all over him. Maybe they'd cleaned him. He felt filthy, though cleaner than he remembered feeling earlier. It wasn't until the two guards left him alone in the cell again that Cameron finally released a breath he knew he'd been holding. He groaned from the pain that was all too real. His muscles were sore, his skin was red and patchy in some places... hell, even his bones hurt. He'd expended so much of his sanity and energy on maintaining an air of dignity throughout the entire capture ordeal that there was little he could do while alone outside of sleep and prepare for the next bout of 'interrogation' with either Ba'al himself or Cameron's good friend Juggernaut.

"You're not in Kansas anymore, Cam," he mumbled to himself, trying to work on the kinks in his right bicep. He stared at the ceiling everyday – or at least what he perceived as every day. He had no idea how much time had really passed since he'd been in captivity. His captors never told him. Really, they never said anything to him. Never asked questions, never outlined elaborate and sinister plots, never told him resistance was futile... they just smiled as they ran him through more routine torture.

His awake mind inevitably found its way to thoughts of home. He tried to recall Carolyn's smile, though some days he couldn't think past his own pain, to remember the laughs of Sam, Daniel, and the wry grins of Teal'c... Cameron was losing his mind being cooped up. He could deal with the endless pain and the torture... to a degree, at least, but the loneliness and longing was slowly driving him mad. He brushed a hand against his cheek, grimacing at the feel of a thick beard, which told him he'd been a captive for quite some time; weeks more than likely. Cam cursed as he rolled onto his side and tried to sleep, despite the blinding light and fluctuating temperatures of his cell.

Some time later, though Cameron had long ago lost all sense of time, his guards returned and dragged him to his feet. He knew from experience that if he were to struggle, he'd be on the receiving end of a zat, and so he slowly trudged along with his armed Jaffa escorts. As they drew nearer to the usual room, which he'd nicknamed 'The Hop', Cameron couldn't stifle an audible groan. It earned him an elbow in the already tender ribs. The two guards dropped him again on the floor and took their positions guarding outside. Cam knew he was in for a special treatment when Juggernaut picked him up from the ground and deposited against a tilted wall and strapped him onto it. If anything, the wall reminded him of one of those tilting blackboards that could be written on both sides, like he'd known high school. This, however, was covered in what looked like diagnostics and straps, with a little football helmet at head-height.

"Good afternoon, Colonel Mitchell."

Cam struggled and fought to turn his head and glance at his addressor, but the bindings Juggernaut had just finished adjusting prevented it. It didn't matter anyways, as the speaker walked into Cam's field of vision in short order. It was, of course, Ba'al in his typical black and gold finery. His theatrical flourish and dramatic entrances were quite pretentious, Cam thought, but they were preferable to the blunt sadism of Juggernaut and his cronies.

"Ba'al," Cam ground out from a clenched jaw, forced closed by his restraints. After spending the better part of two minutes trying to move any part of his body, he gave up and surrendered to the inevitability of it all. The only body part he found he could move was his ears and what the hell good would they do?

"You'll find you're quite unable to move," Ba'al announced unnecessarily, evoking the roll of Cameron's eyes. Ba'al's monologues entered the realm of tedium on a regular basis. Cameron oftentimes found himself preferring the physical torture over having to listen to the pompous windbag's self-congratulatory back patting or his Pinky-and-the-Brain-esque 'take over the universe' diatribes. Lucky for Cameron, that day wasn't going to be one of those days.

Ba'al swept to Cameron's side, his fist clenched firmly around some item that eluded Cam's field of vision. When Ba'al produced the item, Cameron's heart nearly exploded from within his chest. It was the picture of him and Carolyn from the time they'd visited his parents on the farm. It had been in his wallet, likely taken from him when Ba'al's men had stripped him of his belongings. His mother had taken the picture, he remembered. Cam and Carolyn were seated together on the picnic table outside, their arms around one another and hands clasped together on the table. Their cheeks were almost touching. He had worn a simple blue-gray long sleeved shirt and jeans; Carolyn was the very picture of beauty in one of his Air Force zip-ups over her cerulean blue tank top and faded green cargo pants. So many memories rushed to his mind from the picture – their first kiss, the second, multiple dates, the first time she'd spent the night, going for ice cream together, watching a movie in the quiet of her apartment, spending time together on his couch, stolen glances at the SGC, dinner with her parents just a short time ago...

A victorious laugh broke Cam's reverie. Ba'al had snatched the small crinkled picture away and was now analyzing it quite closely. "She's a pretty one," he remarked.

"Go to hell," Cameron snarled through his teeth, every muscle in his body taut and rigid. He was at that time again reminded of the brevity of his dress – only his socks, boxer shorts, and a mostly-ruined black shirt. Ba'al could easily see every inch of wired muscle and how his body reacted to the man's devices.

"So impetuous against one's captor," Ba'al laughed, glancing at Juggernaut. "We'll have to have some fun with that, I believe."

Cameron was just about to make a remark before the men in front of him and the golden bulkheads of the Goa'uld ship evaporated before his very eyes. He glanced around for several moments, trying to discern his new location. It looked eerily like the SGC's infirmary. He sat up from the hospital gurney and surveyed the room. Empty, save for him. Across the room, though, he saw the glimmer of a light from Carolyn's office. He walked over and poked his head in.

There she was, like his mind had conjured the image from his memory and brought her to him. She glanced up at him with a brilliant smile, rising from her desk and joining him in a tight embrace. It was all so real... Cameron found himself lost in the moment, just enjoying the feel of Carolyn in his arms. She looked like he remembered, smelled like lavender, her eyes were bright and full of life. He never stopped to wonder why it seemed so romanticized, just enjoying the moment presented before him.

"Cameron, we need to talk."

His eyes opened as she pulled away. "Talk?" he wondered.

"Yes," suddenly her eyes were haunted and guarded, their joyful light extinguished. She leaned back and sat on the edge of her desk. Her arms crossed over her chest as she took on an air of seriousness. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"What's that, babe?"

"I'm pregnant." Cameron felt his heart alight with joy. He crossed the three steps to her and went to wrap her up in another hug, but she held him back at arm's length. "It isn't yours," she said at last. There was no compassion, no apology in her voice. Just the cold, brutal truth.

There was suddenly a harsh pain in Cam's chest; beneath his skin, muscle, under bone and tissue, square in his chest. His head throbbed, a dull pain overcoming his thought processes. "What?"

"I found someone else," she added, fanning the flames of despair. "Goodbye, Cameron," and with that she left the room, leaving Cameron to his pain and desolation. He collapsed to his knees, head in his hands. Tears threatened to fall and he made not effort to stop them, but they would not come. His body shook with sobs, but he made no sound. Every inch of his body was on fire. He hurt all over. Cameron opened his eyes again to see all of his dreams and hopes vanish. He closed his eyes again.

When they opened, he wasn't in the SGC. He was back in the cold, bright cell on Ba'al's ship. He was facedown in a puddle of his own blood, dark and haunting. Cam felt at his face, searching for it's source. His nose, though not broken, had evidently bled out under the stress of his torture. He curled into the fetal position, fighting against the tide of despair that threatened to overtake him. His world was suddenly without any joy or brightness. His Carolyn was pregnant and with another man. Cameron was so sore, so tired, so depressed that he never stopped to consider Ba'al's lies for what they were. Finally a groan escape the man's lips and the tears fell.

At the cell door Ba'al watched, a wide, sinister grin on his features as he watched Cameron Mitchell breaking himself down in a way no torture could. Ba'al had used the picture of the man's woman from Mitchell's belongings to open up his mind to his vast array of memories, and from there, he'd simply had to pluck one such memory from the mass and trigger it in Mitchell's mind. Ba'al had provided the stimulus and scenario, and Cameron's mind had done the rest. As Ba'al left the despairing man, he made no effort to stifle the eerie laughter that came from deep in his black heart.

Originally this chapter was almost double the length, including what is now the next chapter (and will be up in the next few days), but I decided to cut it down and break it into two seperate chapters for both dramatic purpose and to allow more time to elaborate on the next, very emotion-driven chapter. I promise you'll all love it. You'll see lots of the Team, plus some Vala, Carolyn, Hank, and Jack. Stay tuned (and please review!)