Title: Report 83646

Author: PapayaK
Category: Hurt-Comfort, Angst, more Hurt – a hint of team, cause I can't leave them out of anything.
Spoilers: Abyss, Tokra
Summary: A report on a mission. Colonel O'Neill, (and friend) is captured, tortured and manages to escape in a rather unorthodox way. By the way – it's a dumb name – I couldn't think of anything better. Can You?

Warnings: Torture, Blood, Gore – Much darker than I usually like. Be prepared. It freaked ME a little when I went back and read it, and I wrote it. I'll explain where this all came from after you've read it.

As always – Please Feed the Writers!!
(we're always starving for it)

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just having fun.

oO0Oo

The Colonel and I were thrown roughly into this prison and secured there. We knew nothing else for many days

oO0Oo

Report 83646 – Chapter 2

oO0Oo.

There was torture.

If it needs to be documented, then you will have to read the Colonel's report, when he writes it. (I won't say 'if…') I will not tell of it. I will only say that I believe, from what I could see of his increased injuries from day to day, he suffered the same as I. So if you need to know what they did. Ask him. He's military – they probably have a form for it. Also, from things he said I know he's been tortured before – more than once. So I assume he knows what to put in a report. I do not. I will not tell you.

The only difference between his experience at the hands of the Jaffa and mine was that I have a symbiote. He doesn't.

Jesha protected me. I have never known her to work harder. She kept from me as much of the pain as she possibly could and healed me as quickly as her strength would allow; Suffering double herself in the process.

She worked to protect me, and understand- she is my life's partner.

I believe he worked harder to protect me than she did.

He kept his spirits up, cracking jokes as they dragged him back bleeding, bruised and in pain. He made fun of them as they hooked him up again to that awful bracelet.

He actually made me smile.

I have to admit that I saw the strength he drew from my smile and I did my best to laugh at his jokes as best I could. It seemed to help him… for a time.

After the sixth or seventh day I knew his injuries were to the extent that he was dying. I think he knew it too, although he would never let on.

There was no other possible outcome. Arsay does not currently have a sarcophagus.

For the first four days, he had me truly believing that SG-1 would come and save the day. He talked a lot of his team's resourcefulness and dedication.

However, on the fifth day Arsay's ship took off and I began to doubt. How could they possibly find us in the endlessness of space?

I don't think the Colonel even knew we were on a ship. It took off and we felt it enter hyperspace. For a split second I saw, on his face, a kind of despair. Not the kind you get when you have given up hope, but the kind that makes you say, "Well, This just got a whole lot harder."

oO0Oo

Between 'sessions,' we did our best to rest and heal. We were provided with some food and drink. It was so disgusting; I couldn't look at it for the first two days. By the fourth, it started to look palatable. In the end I ate it gladly.

I just realized I keep talking about what day it was. In truth I can only remember what day it was until about the sixth day. After that it all runs together. The Colonel wouldn't let me do any kind of time keeping. He said it was because we didn't need it – we wouldn't be there long enough. I think it was because he knew it would be better in the end if the days did run together; better if I didn't know how long we had been there. And, to tell the truth, I'm really glad I didn't know at the time that we were there for almost three weeks.

How he held on I'll never know, but he did.

After many days at Arsay's hands, he no longer joked when they brought him back. Most often he was unconscious. When he woke up he was always apologetic, as if he had been rude to me. Then he would do everything he could to distract me from his injuries and from my own.

And so, not being able to do anything else, we talked.

One of our favorite "topics of distraction" was our friends. For some reason, the Colonel seemed to particularly enjoy any story I could tell of one of my Tok'ra friends making some ordinary everyday blunder. I came up with as many as I could, and Jesha contributed more stories from before my time.

For my part, I loved to hear him tell of the other members of SG-1.

He instructed me for hours one night of the fine art of interpreting Teal'c's many and varied facial expressions. I heard about all the ways there are to raise one eyebrow (an honored skill) or two, or glare, or do both together. The head incline was a specialty. Apparently there is a great deal of difference in meaning according to degree on inclination and direction. But through it all, even (especially) during his somewhat silly descriptions there was always an undercurrent of deep respect for the former First Prime. I knew beyond a doubt that the Colonel shared a bond of brotherhood with his fellow warrior that went far too deep to ever be described with mere words. When the well finally ran dry I found myself quiet in respect for a friendship I could never know how to attain.

Another night I was trying to make light of the session I had just endured by complaining that Arsay had tried to talk me to death. The Colonel smiled and shook his head, and told me the story of Daniel Jackson.

I have to admit I was fascinated. I heard his story, one full of love, innocence (if that is the right word) and loss and incredible bravery, but I also heard the undercurrents. Yes, there was irritation, but there was also love, and loyalty. He reminded me of a friend I had growing up: a young man who lived next door. He and his little brother had lost their parents and he had become his brother's guardian. The younger boy meant the world to him, although he would never admit it, preferring instead to tease and annoy him endlessly. The little brother knew the truth though. I assumed Daniel did as well.

Major Carter was the only one he never spoke of at length. Referring to her only, as he did to all of them, with comments like, "If Carter were here…" He always fell silent for a while afterward.

Another thing we often talked about – or talked 'around' as the Colonel would say, was the subject of the questioning. From him, Arsay wanted the Codes. The Codes with a capital C – the Colonel would joke. He told me he loved the look on her face whenever he began singing the ABC song.

He never told me what they were – wouldn't even say what they were for. He only talked about what they weren't and following his example I talked about many locations the Tok'ra weren't: Disney World, Santa's workshop, the 100 Acre Wood… He looked at me with pride when I was sarcastic. For a long time it was the hope of making him proud of me that made me retort sarcastically to her instead of telling her the coordinates of our home; Even when it meant only more pain.

oO0Oo

Jesha and I had been correct in our original assumptions. Ba'al had charged Arsay with finding the current Tok'ra base. He had made her many grand promises if she succeeded and terrible threats if she failed.

She had made the mistake of bragging that she had captured us. Now she had to deliver. Only we weren't cooperating.

I have only one memory from this time that does not make me nauseous. One day I was watching the Jaffa drag the Colonel back from a session. He looked to me to be even worse off than usual. They clipped him into his bracelet beside me and left him hanging. They spit on him. They thought him weak.

But as soon as they were gone, he slowly looked up into my worried face and grinned. I will say I believe it was the biggest grin I have ever seen on anyone.

He looked like a kid who just got exactly what he wanted under the Christmas tree. He slowly held up, as if for my approval, a rough piece of metal that had a sharp edge; a "shiv", he proudly explained. That night, we celebrated.

How he got it, he never told me. It wouldn't cut through or open the bracelets, but "once he had a chance…"

That was all he ever told me.

He spoke so certainly, as if all our problems would now be solved; if only the right circumstances presented themselves. The shiv was so small I voiced some doubt that it could do much against a Jaffa.

He said you had to know how to use it.

He never elaborated. I know he intended to use it to get us out of there. I imagine he meant to kill with it, kill the Jaffa, Arsay if he had the opportunity… but he was still protecting me; even after all this, he still felt there were things I hadn't seen, hadn't suffered. It frightens me to think he might be right.

I knew without a doubt that there were things he had seen, things he had done of which he wanted me to be ignorant. Things he planned to do again if necessary.

As it was he got his 'chance;' just not how he imagined.