Part 2: Equilibrium on hold
Six months later…
Jack twisted his head as much as he could, to get a glance back toward Carter. She was being escorted down the corridors along with him, and it was a relief. Not because they were captured in the middle of Laos, but that at least so far, they hadn't separated Carter from him.
They turned a corner and both Jack and Sam were dumped unceremoniously into a cell. The iron bars slid shut and were locked. Then all the tough guys left, save for one who stood with his back to the cell watching down the corridor for any company. Who the hell would choose to visit a prison built four stories below ground and smelling of rot was just the beginning of this mystery.
Jack and Sam had been on a black ops mission, just the two of them, by special request of the President. It was a three-day mission to slip in, gather intel, and slip out. Then Jack planned to get Sam home, feed her, and take her to bed for 48 hours straight. But it hadn't worked out that way. Now, they apparently would be spending their immediate futures in an 8-by-8 cell together.
"Welcome home, honey," Jack said sarcastically, while turning around and taking in their new surroundings. The walls were made of stone and were damp from the chill of being underground. In the corner stood a sink and what would have to pass as a toilet. On the other wall was a small cot, bigger than a single bed but not by much.
Jack had a brief passing thought of how awkward this would have been before. Back when he would've either chosen to sleep on the cold ground or had to share that cot, hoping Carter never noticed his reaction to being that close to her body.
"Are you hurt?" Sam started assessing him for injuries. She'd seen them hit Jack a few times. "Think you have a concussion?" She was checking his eyes to see if they were dilated.
"I'm fine." He ran a hand down her arm, just needing to feel her there as reassurance. "You?"
"I'm OK," she replied.
Hours later, just when Jack was starting to believe that they weren't going to be tortured the big bad guys came back. Only they didn't take Jack away, they took Carter. Jack yelled everything he could think of at them, promising revenge if they hurt her, promising he'd tell them whatever they wanted to know if only they left Sam alone.
Two hours passed. Jack knew whatever they might do to him, it was never going to be worse than what his imagination was torturing his own mind with– thoughts of what they could be doing to Sam.
When Sam was returned to the cell, she looked like hell but was conscious.
Jack went to where she collapsed just inside the cell door. He lifted Sam and carried her to the cot, laying her gently. Then took off his t-shirt, ripped a strip from the bottom, and wet it at the sink. He began cleaning her wounds and used other strips of cloth to bind the worst of them.
Sam, being the good solider that she was, never once whimpered from pain or fear. But when he finished, she reached for him.
Jack lowered himself onto the cot and carefully gathered her in his arms. Running a hand over her hair, he didn't speak words of comfort or promises that everything would be all right. He told her the one and only thing he knew she wanted to hear. The only thing that would help ease her.
"I'm here, Sam, I'm right here."
"Jack– they–"
"Shhh," he insisted.
It was as much to save her strength as the fact that he didn't want to hear what they had done. It was better if he never knew. If they touched her in any places that they shouldn't, that knowledge alone might very well drive him into madness.
"They think we can contact the Asgard," Sam managed to get out between breaths. "…believe you and I hold the key to saving…. their country from the Goa'uld forces."
"How did they even know we were here?" he asked irritably. "Only a handful of people very high up in the US government knew about this mission."
As surprised as Jack was, he knew he shouldn't be. Over the last six months, the entire planet had fallen into chaos. Governments had collapsed. Those that still stood were being attacked by Goa'uld, or other countries, or by their own people in an uprising. No one knew who or what to trust because no one knew where the Goa'uld had already infiltrated.
Even the United States President was starting to wonder about some of its allies. Marshall law had to be implemented in the major metropolitan American cities in order to attempt to control the rioting.
Sam slipped into a sound sleep for a while. Jack kept watch over her, hoping that signs of a fever didn't surface.
Later, Sam opened her eyes sleepily. Without saying a word, she moved her hands over his chest, shoulders, and down his back. Then she leaned into him and met his lips in a deep kiss. Jack gave in for a moment, tasting the sweetness that he'd grown to need more than air.
After several minutes of kissing and caressing, Jack's body was fully engaged and ready, but he pulled back. It cost him every ounce of control and Jack knew in that moment what real torture was. He realized that for as long as they remained in this cell, she was like succulent grapes hanging in front of him, just out of reach.
When he pulled away from the kiss, Sam's eyes blinked open in the dim light. "Jack?"
He knew why she was confused. He'd never turned her down before.
"Not here," Jack said and tipped his head to indicate the guard pacing in the corridor outside the cell. There was simply no way he'd allow anyone to get a look at her porcelain skin dotted with freckles, or hear the sound of her moans. Those things were his, and his alone.
Sam seemed to understand but her eyes grew pained. She needed comfort, she needed him, and Jack was right here. But he might as well be light years away.
Sam said softly, "This is worse than Air Force regulations and far worse than any kind of torture."
Underground they couldn't tell day from night. Except that the sparse electric bulbs handing from the ceiling in the corridor outside their cell were dimmed down for hours, Jack assumed that must indicate when they should sleep.
There was at least one guard outside the cell at all times. The captors brought food and water at regular intervals and slipped them between the bars. Sam and Jack analyzed all of this carefully in hushed tones, there seemed to be no obvious means of escape.
The men took Jack away and returned him, much in the same state as Sam several days before. But after that, neither was tortured further. Together, they managed to care for each other's wounds and slept in shifts. The days began to pass, then weeks passed and boredom set in.
"Wouldn't be so bad if we had a little privacy." Sam commented one day, with a wiggle of her eyebrows. "I'm sure we could think of some interesting ways to pass the time."
"Flirting is not gonna help the situation, Carter," he said flatly. She couldn't tell if it was an attempt at a joke or if he was truly annoyed.
"OK," she said, "tell me about your high school years."
"Sam…" He groaned her name as a complaint. He was bored and she wasn't helping by playing 'let's get to know each other better.'
Jack knew all he needed to know about Sam. She was brilliant, beautiful, she giggled when no one else was around but him, and she loved him. The last thing he cared about was what Sam's most embarrassing moment was, or when she had her first kiss, or how old she was when she lost her… wait a minute—
"What's the name of the guy that you lost your virginity too?"
Sam gave him a look. "What, when we get out of here, you're planning to go find him and Zat him?"
Jack glanced up about to speak when suddenly sounds could be heard in the distance. He met Sam's look, as if to say, 'Yeah, that sounded like gunshots to me too.' He tried to take advantage of the moment and jerk the cell door open.
"Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter." A man wearing all black appeared around the corner. "Move away," he said in a thick accent.
In the far corner of the cell, Jack held Sam, putting his body between hers and the blast. A second later, explosives blew the iron doors open and they were escaping with the man in black.
Fires had started somewhere, and the corridors were filling with smoke and haze. Sam coughed several times, but kept pace with their savior.
Once the man in black snuck them through the facility, he loaded them onto a chopper waiting near an outside door.
Jack turned and was about to ask something, when the man spoke first.
"Colonel, please, explanations will be offered. But I can assure you, your President is fully aware and approved this rescue operation."
"Russian," Jack finally placed the accent. He added sarcastically, "Figures. All my favorite adventures have included the Russians."