1 year, 6 months, 20 days
Sam supposed that it could be considered a good thing that the people hell bent on torturing her didn't have a sarcophagus. Then they wouldn't need time to let her heal. A few hours at most would bring a person back from the dead. So far, all Sam had suffered were numerous broken and cracked bones, set by the healer with no pain meds, scratches, bruises, cuts, and the like.
Except for Teal'c, she probably had the record for the least deaths on SG-1. They all had the one back in the first year that the Nox had healed them from. Daniel had the most deaths on his official medical record, but they all knew Jack had more actual deaths from the time spent with Ba'al. Jack had lost count of how many times he'd technically died during that time; at least several dozen.
So yes, Sam's life, if one could call it that, could be so much worse. But at least if there was a sarcophagus, she wouldn't be in quite so much pain.
It had been 4 days since her 43rd birthday, and the spark of hope Sam had harbored leading up to that day had scattered like the dust of her mock birthday cake. The star never faded though, and sent reassuring words each morning, like balm to a burn.
Sam supposed that back home her lab had been taken over by another scientist, her house packed up, and her various projects shipped off to Area 51. Maybe, just maybe, if her friends got a chance, they would find her and mount a rescue.
Maybe...
Sam practically lived on maybes now. Maybe she would be found. Maybe she would survive. Maybe her tormentors would let her go. Maybe she would get more food. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Sometimes, Sam gave up on maybes, and thought about days gone by and opportunities missed.
Mostly, she wished she had taken everyone's advice and unlocked that room with Jack. Did he even think about her? He hadn't liked her in the beginning. What if he was glad she was gone? He could have gotten a full time soldier as a replacement.
Since starting at the SGC, Sam had slowly accumulated a massive stash of yoyos that she kept at home, and occasionally took one with her on missions in case Jack was being particularly annoying and had forgotten his own fidget toys. All of the yoyos that were left in her lab or at her house on team nights were added to the stash if left unclaimed for more than three days. At last count, a week or so before her capture, there were about 200, plus a few stray strings that had gravitated into the box.
One more scratch, added to the hundreds present. A small mark, with huge meaning. Another day spent alone, nothing but memories to pass time.
A/N~ First of all, I don't own it. You should know that.
Second of all, this is basically how Sam spends her days. I tried to give a little sampling of how her head is working.
Third, if you find any mistakes, please tell me, and I'll fix them as soon as possible. Also, if you have any questions, pm me and I'll explain as best I can. Thanks for everyone that reviewed, keep them coming.
And a big hug to all of you that caught the reference to Harry Potter in the first chapter.
Don't forget the little button right there that tells me what you thought!