[Updated 01/09/2017]
Chapter Thirteen: Keep on Marshing on
A sea of darkness had swallowed her whole an hour previously, yet now it was gently fading away, as awareness gradually awoke her extremities. The first thing she felt was a lingering weight on her stomach. Her hands were on top of each other, in addition to the Colonel's hugging arm. Hot breath faintly tickled her neck, and then she knew. He was embracing her like she had within the snow covered cave in Antarctica, during SG1's first year as a team.
It is not that it felt good to be in his arms, however, they were Air Force, the Colonel her C.O. it was forbidden by the military, regardless of what he had confronted without the support of his team, regardless that he had hurt her.
Carter cringed as images of the inflicted injuries and inner torture flooded her mind.
She had felt how O'Neill had wrapped her bruised body, heard his apology, and sorrow filled crying. Her heart had ached at his open display. It was also the last thing she remembered before succumbing to sleep.
Upon further examination, Carter felt the lingering soreness of the slugs, yet they were distant not as painful as they should be. The bleeding had stopped too. It was clear to her, that Haran had corrected the damage done. However, still allowed her the displeasure of remembering O'Neill's deeds, that, and his emotions.
Sam tilted her head so, gently leaning her right cheek against his forehead. His salt and pepper hair tickled her nose; nevertheless, she allowed herself one moment of weakness, one moment of guiltless comfort, before waking him. They had to assess their predicament, find a way out of Haran's sick game.
"Ah, Colonel, not that this is nice . . ." The Major said swallowing nervously, she never like waking him, hence the familiar statement.
His head stirred, whilst his snuggling arm drew her closer to him, recalling the Antarctic fiasco. "Funny." He barely managed.
After a few moments of silence, Carter allowing him the liberty of properly waking, spoke softly, "We should prob . . ."
"'mmm sorry . . . passed out . . . wrappin' injuries, reason for . . ." He trailed off, his breathing laboured. "So tired . . . damn tired . . . hurts. Hurts. . ."
Sam held back tears as she responded in a considerate tone, "I know, Sir. I can literally feel everything that you're going through."
A long silence followed her confession, and she bit her bottom lip in discomfort. O'Neill always had the knack for making her nervous, especially in these kinds of situations. The fact was – he would stay an unattainable goal for as long as they fought the Goa'uld. This just made it harder for her to let go of him. Irrespective of what she felt for Pete.
Jack inhaled a deep breath, and then compelled his mouth to speak, "Care . . . to 'laborate."
Sam shuddered as he expelled the leftover breath against her neck.
Cursing her reaction silently, she replied composed, "I believe when I examined the dais, it scanned me. Then, as I pressed the button, it took a sample of my DNA. Somehow, it connected the two of us. I don't really know how, but my senses immediately heightened."
She felt him scowl, yet he retorted sarcastically, "What did I say about touching alien doohickeys Carter?"
"I know Sir. Daniel surmised it to be a flytrap, due to how we both reacted. I should have stayed away, then you wouldn't have disappeared. I'm so sorry."
"Don't beat yourself up, Major. I remember a similar thing before I got snatched away."
"Yes, Teal'c said so."
"How long . . . gone for?" The tiredness became heavy, pulling him back to sleep.
"Almost four hours, Colonel."
An awkward calm occurred between them for a minute or so before Jack spoke again, very slowly. "Felt like days, encountered a whole heap just for it to be four hours."
To Sam's dismay, he retracted his huddling arm, and placed his hand on her shoulder underneath his head, squeezed it in comfort.
"I'm sorry Carter. It was a . . . complicated mess, and then you appeared out of nowhere. My mind just snapped . . . dammit, there's no excuse for what I did. I-I-I wanted, no. I would have enjoyed killing you."
"I . . ." Carter swallowed back the bile in her throat, glancing the Colonel's saddened expression. "Please, Sir, it's not your fault. I experienced everything, know how close you." She suddenly stopped.
The Colonel was already remorseful about his behaviour; there was no need to hit the last nail in the coffin.
"Colonel."
Her voice was strong and stern as she gently shifted away, turning onto her side. She then positioned her free hand underneath his head, offering it as a pillow. His eyes closed with the gesture not wanting to glimpse her pity.
"Look at me, Sir." Jack's eyelids slowly opened, revealing his tired brown eyes. Compassion flooded her system, in addition to his remorse. "You have an advantage now. We will get through this together."
"True." He simply replied, a small smile curling his lips.
She forced eye contact, gazing with determined blue eyes, "And I know who's been inflicting your . . . our pain."
Before Jack could think of a comeback, the door materialized before them, whilst the slithering voice returned in full vigour. It shouted for them to go.
Astonishment wrapped them, shell shocked that they had to leave the woodland not fully recuperated. Carter reacted quickly, gently pulling the Colonel to his feet and snaked her arm around his waist to keep him upright. Jack instantly placed his arm around her shoulders, appreciative of her support, yet baffled that she had one up on him physically.
Wasn't she seriously injured?
"It was your healing touch, Sir." Sam joked as she sensed his confusion. Then a neutral expression appeared as he scowled. "Ah, the designer had mercy on me, you not so much."
She winced at the end, helping him over a dead tree trunk. They were a few steps away from entering into the next environment.
Jack's expression furrowed in disgust, "It's scary that you can discern what I'll say, due to the nature of our team dynamics. It's even more disconcerting to know you can sense it now."
Sam's free hand gripped the side of her head as his dislike triggered in her chest. "Believe me, you're not the only one that's spooked by this."
A muffled moan followed, stopping O'Neill from opening the door.
"What's wrong?" He asked worried.
This intensified the headache, Carter grabbing her head now with both hands. Jack let go and leaned against the doorframe for support.
"Aaah . . ." She breathed through the pain, yet her expression remained twisted in anguish. "Maybe you should rein in your emotions more. It kinda hurts when you don't."
"That bad, huh?" Confusion lingered for a short while before Jack suppressed it, for Sam was half down to her knees, groaning.
"You have no idea." She replied through clenched teeth. Yet, managed to calm the tidal wave of senses as she continued, "We should…" Gestured vaguely at the door.
O'Neill responded in a sluggish manner, as his body felt like jelly. His muscles tethered like fraught rubber bands and his mind was restless as the sea. Normally on missions, he displayed the opposite before the team. Now, here was Major Carter, suffering what he felt, sensed, and thought – unknowingly hurting her.
It's . . . just . . . so twisted to be this exposed. I'm used to dealing with things personally. There's no freedom now, no mask to hide behind, no being Jack O'Neill. This is bloody well messed up. Every time I respond, Carter will feel it twice as hard. I swear I'll . . .
"Sir!" She chided in frustration. "Stop thinking and open the door."
Resisting the urge to feel sorry for her, Jack pulled down on the handle and the door opened on rustic hinges. Studying her demeanour, he extended his open palm towards her, indicating for her accept his courtesy. Sam gazed at him with a furrowed brow and reluctantly placed her hand in his. "Welcome to my world." O'Neill sarcastically stated, whilst mustering the strength to step over the threshold with Carter trailing behind.
On the other side, their boots sank down deep into a grassy pool, its saturated soil searching for a way past their tied up bootlaces.
Behind them, the doorframe faded away, causing Carter to stumble to the left. O'Neill swiftly compensated, preventing her from toppling over.
She nodded her thanks, gazing where the door should have been. "Does that usually happen?"
"Yeah." Came his curt reply.
"So you shift from environment to environment through the door?"
"Pretty much."
"Interesting. Works similar to a Stargate then." Wonder shone in her eyes like she had discovered something new.
"Uh-huh." His chin bobbed with the retort, eyes purposefully not gazing at her.
"How many have you travelled through?" She asked curious.
There you go! Been waiting for that one.
The Colonel gazed down at his soggy boots, facial expression twisting in discomfort, which suddenly changed to concern when Carter's voice urgently begged.
"Forget I asked. Forget I asked . . ."
Clearly, she was feeling the agony of what he had swiftly recalled to memory.
"Seventh . . ." Jack answered slowly as the Major held the side of her head, jaw clenched.
He swallowed back the knot in his throat, adam's apple moving with the gesture. Then, he inspected their current environment, desperately trying to avoid what he was doing to her.
"I'm detecting a trend here." He stated.
Thankful for the change in subject, Carter looked at him with an inquisitive brow, "Sir?"
"Well . . ." Jack sealed his lips tightly shut, and repressed the recollection of the ocean, beach and rainy forest – all of which had water in common, and simply replied, "I'd rather not say."
"Okay."
Elongating the word, she glimpsed the purpose of his wording on his expression. He was resisting the urge to share with her what had happened. Something she understood completely. If he did explain, she would be screaming in pain.
Sam's gaze followed his, observing their new setting.
It looked like miniscule vines had emerged from the water and had snuck their way across the spongy landscape in search of an escape. Reddish brown shrubbery rooted in sphagnum moss and peat stretched for miles on end, while shimmering rain-fed pools decorated the terrain in sporadic places. In the distance, a snow covered mountain range crawled along the horizon, while the sun stood immobile in the blue sky, thin, white sheets of clouds surrounding it.
They were standing amidst a bog, feeling the effects of its cool temperate climate on their skin.
"Sir, I would really like to get back onto drier land." Carter declared through a nervous snicker, rubbing her forearm in the process.
A slight wind had picked up, rustling the dead vegetation.
O'Neill side glanced at her, noting the spell of gooseflesh rippling up her arms and then trudged to the right with a few restricted steps. He navigated unpleasantly up the slippery, mossy slant, while the Major did so to the left. Once the pair found proper footing, they walked to the south, careful not to end up in another pool or barely visible muddy puddle.
The trek was silent, each keeping their thoughts to themselves, until thirty minutes passed and Jack could fight the involuntary confession no longer.
"Ah, Carter."
Uh-oh, confession time, Sam thought.
"Yes, Colonel." She could see the disgrace on his facial features.
Jack kept his eyes on the horizon as he spoke, "Yeah, there's something you need to know. I kinda . . . my . . ." He struggled to order his words, careful not to cause her discomfort. "You said something earlier about heightened senses. Well, mine have kinda climbed to the top of the sensitivity ladder. Things I normally keep to myself, I can't . . . here. Everything's the wrong way around, everything is . . ." His hands impersonated an explosion, grimacing as he did so. ". . . Amplified. It may be quiet now, but it will soon go into overdrive as in chaotic, and I won't be able to control . . . anything. It's gonna get a lot worse for you. Maybe even to the point of death." His brow twisted in guilt, tilting his head to the side to avoid her scrutiny.
"I'll be fine, Sir." She boldly confessed.
"No. No, you won't be, Major. Far from it."
Whoa, okay, so he's never said that before. Normally, it's the reverse.
"I see." Sam bit her bottom lip, but decided to continue headstrong. "This isn't real, Colonel. Even if we die, we'll wake up in a room where we're both tied to metal slabs. I've just come from there, I should know."
"No!" Jack growled, startling her. He cleared his throat. "I can't die. If I do, it will be permanent."
Boy he's stubborn. She sighed in frustration.
"We're stuck in a virtual reality. Our bodies aren't physically here. So whatever you heard or believe, we will wake up if we die here."
"You think I don't know this isn't real? I'm not that thick, Major."
Carter stifled a snort, "Please, Colonel, I give you more credit than you know."
"Excuse me?" His voice was stern and collected as he rebuked her.
"I'm just saying Sir that I didn't rock up from my own reality. The team has been searching for you all the while you've been stuck in here."
"No kidding!" The retort was sarcastic while Jack glared with a deadpan expression. "I tried leaving, you know. Apparently, I wasn't smart enough. Don't got your brilliant mind."
"I didn't say that." Sam spat, brow furrowed in irritation.
Jack stagnated abruptly, allowing the Major to pass by.
She tilted her body sideways, and in annoyance placed her hands on her hips. But then, her frustrated expression suddenly morphed into surprise, as O'Neill, in one swift fluent motion, rushed forward and halted an arm's length away. His right hand mimicked a sidearm, and he placed the tips of his fingers against her forehead.
Sam jolted rigidly in surprise as her spine absorbed the coarse conduct.
"Tell me, Major, were you there when a cold metal barrel drifted to the side of my head? Forced to pull the trigger and end my life." His hand lowered, but his cold dark glare remained. "You weren't there when I navigated a deserted corridor which had no end in sight. Weren't there as rapid mini-gun fire tore a building to shreds. Stuck inside someone else's body, lost as to why I was cowering for my life. I plummeted down a cliff into an ocean that squeezed the oxygen from my lungs. Felt how my heart beat its last beat. Yes, I was dead and I didn't wake up on a metal slab, instead I was forced to relive the last seven years . . . vividly. In the forest, I ran without stopping for an hour, that voice and many others mocking me, chasing me. Everything I confronted I had done so knowing it wasn't real. Hell it hurt . . . like death itself. Every single fear, each concern – the whole shebang over exaggerated and over the top brutal. For all I know, you're just a figment of my imagination and what I'm experiencing is just another cruel nightmare."
Tears streamed down her face as she felt his anger, his fear, and heartache.
The Colonel's expression snarled in stone cold anger, whilst his venomous words echoed in her mind.
Nonetheless, she boldly stated. "I know what you're trying to do, Colonel O'Neill. It's not going to work." Carter sniffed, as she wiped the tears with her fingertips.
His eyelids narrowed in anger, "And what is that, Major?" His question echoed dangerously low and it cut like a sharp sword.
"You're trying to push me away. You want us to split up and face whatever comes next alone, because you don't want me to see or feel your weaknesses. The thing is, Sir, no matter how much distance you place between us, the pain will only intensify."
"Is that so?" His one eyebrow raised with the brusque reply.
Carter flinched, biting her lower lip, but she soldiered on, "Yes, I don't blame you for wanting to do so. However, this connection we seem to share, it now works like an inverted magnetic pull. The further away I am, the worse it becomes. It's only tolerable once we're in close proximity."
Sam let out a shaky breath, composing herself with her familiar military mask. "Haran wants you to suffer, give in to this ruse, Colonel. That's been his objective from the beginning, and ostensibly, he's using me to do so."
Jack's harsh expression softened, regarded the Major with his own military mask and queried, "He a Goa'uld?" He then Gazed at the mountain range in the distance.
"No, but he has it in for you. I think he's found an opponent stronger than himself."
"You don't say." He replied thoughtfully. "I haven't even met the guy, but he's signed my death certificate already. Well, this is new."
A small smile curled Carter's lips.
He sighed in defeat. "Yeah, this mission's quickly rising on my hatred list. What about Daniel and Teal'c, where are they?"
"They're fine and most probably planning a way to get us out of this mess."
"Good." He curtly nodded his agreement, and then levelled his gaze with Carter's. "We should keep moving. Get out of the open."
"Where to? There is nothing but open." Her eyes squinted as she scanned the marshland.
"Ah, but there is." Smirking, he pointed southwest. "A treeline my dear Major."
"Which will undoubtedly be a swamp."
It was barely audible, but he heard enough to counter, "It's cover nonetheless."
He moved past her in the direction previously gestured, not waiting for her to follow. Jack had tried his best to reject her help, but she was adamant to stay glued to his side. It was admirable, but Carter failed to fathom what her presence was doing to him. He was unclear about what she precisely sensed, yet knew whatever it entailed, she was hiding it very well – something they had mastered over the years.
An hour later, the distant treeline became obvious as the pair skirted its boundary.
Its treetops gave the impression of many coloured umbrellas, yet in different shades of green, whilst its branches dangled down to the muddy ground.
Two pairs of eyes panned horizontally, when something unexpectedly shredded the leaves before them. A whizzing noise whirred past Carter's left ear, soon followed by a clapping echo. Astonished, the pair hit the ground, leopard crawling towards the nearest umbrella tree. Within reach of its thick roots, another few bullets penetrated the air above them.
"I'm getting too old for this crap." Jack retorted winded.
Ignoring him, Sam frantically scanned the region from whence the sound travelled. "I can't see the shooter. Dammit, wish I had my binoculars."
"You don't need to see to know what's going on, Major." Sam heard the frustrated tone in his whisper, but said nothing in return. "It's quiet now, maybe we should high-tail it outta here."
No objection came from Sam, so they crawled out from underneath the branches and sprinted in the direction they had come by.
A few minutes later, Jack tugged at her arm, motioning to stop. "I think . . ." Took a deep breath before continuing, ". . . we're in the clear."
"Yes, Sir."
Coming to a halt, Jack regarded the Major, who was still gazing at the treeline behind him. Oh, he envied her, she appeared energetic, but he was bone tired. Placing his hands on his knees, body slightly doubled over, he waited for his breathing to normalize. Finally feeling like he could breathe with ease, he stretched out the kinks in his back, grimacing as he did so.
"What do ya think?" He asked.
"How the hell should I know? This is your conjectured world." She exclaimed rudely.
"Carter . . ." He warned, sternly glaring.
She shrugged an apology, swallowing her rashness. "I don't think Haran would've dropped us in the middle of a peat bog just so that we could walk into an execution."
"Let me get this straight." Jack paused as he thumbed over his shoulder, eyes narrowing. "You're saying we're scouts and what just happened back there, was us walking into enemy territory? That's nuts!"
"According to how you feel, Colonel, it's not the first time something like this has happened."
"Do my feelings also tell you that I'm way past my expiration date, and that I have no energy for whatever this is?"
Carter cringed in reply. She knew exactly what was ensuing within his emotions, yet she did not know that he was suffering so physically. For him to admit it, was a clear tell-tale sign that he was literally running on fumes.
Across from her, the Colonel scowled, swallowing his frustration. "Okay, let's just say your insinuation's correct, which wouldn't be a surprise. We're outmanned, outgunned and we have no cover. We're then ultimately screwed. We don't even know why!"
Her eyes confirmed his statement and he reluctantly followed her gaze. She calmly stated, "Well, we're about to find out how screwed we are."
Sam grabbed him by the forearm, while he glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening in shock. "Oh sh…" She pulled him from his spot, just as the first sign of a russet coloured scouting party burst through the treeline, heading straight for them.
Jack and Sam's retreat took half the time it took them walking to the treeline; however, instead of silence, whirring bullets pursued them all the way back to where they had last sighted the door. When it failed to appear, they continued, heading north, slipping over wet moss, dodging hidden pools, and hurdling over rocks.
Jack was certain nothing situated in their current direction, but things had shifted around him once before. If Carter's assumption was correct (he really hoped she was), whoever it was that had supposedly sent them, would surely help. Or they were unfortunate to have trespassed upon an unknown battlefield. Then, they were only fleeing for their precious lives . . . in the wrong direction.
"Carter! WE should have fled to the west . . . along the treeline. We're only prolonging our capture."
"I know!" She shouted back.
Jack gazed behind him; assessing who had faithfully kept up – ten plus soldiers had followed and showed no signs of stopping. Cursing within, he reverted his attention to the Major, who was slightly to his left, when a slug tore through her leg and another through her left hip. She went down like a wounded gazelle, tumbling shoulder over heels in the peat.
She cried out in agony as fear rippled through him. Clearly, she had felt his distraught during the fall, but now she held her head as furious anger surged within him.
The Colonel turned on his heels, cocking his sidearm in the movement, retracted his forefinger on the trigger, wishing they had rather taken their chances in the swamp. However, they still would have met the same demise, still would have received the same welcoming committee.
Two soldiers went down as Jack stood firm in a side stance, aiming at whomever moved in the gun's crosshairs. Behind him, Sam groaned in pain, too paralysed to join him in his feat. He did not blame her, only blamed himself for being so negligent as a leader. Fatigue had clouded his mind, clogged his awareness, and had drained his sanity, making him irrational and careless.
He had failed to protect Carter – a thought that finally dissolved his resolve. After everything, this was what finally sunk his boat. He shouted a deep guttural shout, whilst advancing enemy soldiers fell to the ground.
His gun clicked empty giving way for the enemy to encircle them and he fell to his knees in defeat.
You're a goner, Jack O'Neill. It had to have ended at some point.
Whatever this scenario wanted from him, this was as far as he could go. As far as Carter could go. It was the end of the line, unless the designer decided they were to survive another environment. A statement he doubted; apparently, the leader had decided he was to feel severe pain for being Colonel Jack O'Neill.
Arabic words echoed in the circle of death as he had dubbed it, while he slowly glanced over his shoulder down at the Major. She was writhing in pain struggling to contain both his and her own emotions and the added agony of the inflicted injuries.
A saddened wince etched his expression.
Carter had endured so much since arriving in his reality; it hurt immensely to think he was the reason for her misery.
It's all my fault. No! It's Har's fault. He's the one who's doing this to you, to Carter.
Squelchy footsteps approached, halted before him, and O'Neill broke eye contact with Sam to glare up at the smug smiling soldier.
A gunshot resonated from behind, and it felt like deafening electricity had jolted through his body. The groaning had seized with the bang, stopped completely.
Realization struck like a potent blow to his stomach.
Sam Carter was dead, and yet he was alive. Darkness consumed his mind as the thought repeated itself.