Disclaimer: All rights reserved to those with the rights to Stargate. I own no part of it, and stake no claim to it. No copyright infringement intended.
A/N: Yes, I realize that it seems I have dropped off of the planet. This, sadly, is not true. Thankfully, I am not only back from vacation, but I also have internet again! (YAYAYAY!) So let us celebrate that with balloons, cake, and, of course, a new chapter! An extra imaginary cookie to you if you review ;) THANKS
Oh, and in case you're interested, I believe there shall be TWO more chapters, and then an Epilogue. Enjoy!
Ohhhh yeah and violence and language warning for this chapter. There's one MAJOR cuss word along with a number of other, less abrasive words.
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Chapter 7: Hate's Love
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Sam woke slowly, clawing her way free of the shackles of darkness that had clamped around her body, holding her in limbo. Her head pounded, lights exploding behind her eyes as she opened them.
This is getting annoyingly familiar she thought morosely as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut again, blocking out the light filtering into the small shack that she had found herself in for a split instant. She slowly opened her eyes, lifting her head as she did so.
As she had gathered, she was lying in a small, wooden shack, with cracks in between the boards that formed the roof and walls of the hut. The floor was bare earth; cold and damp against her body which was pressing into it. Gray light shone into the hut, illuminating her prison in a half-hearted light, giving her just enough light to make out the murky shadows in the corners.
Strangely, she was not bound, although she realized that her feet were bare, her boots and socks having been removed, as was her belt which, she realized upon inflection, had a heavy, metal buckle. Without her boots, she would also be able to inflict only minimal damage with kicks. Whoever had her as a prisoner now knew what they were doing, although the lack of bonds confused her.
A figure unfolded itself from against the opposite wall, its stocky form hidden in the shadows. It moved closer, and with a shock of surprise, Sam recognized who it was. She would recognize the way that man moved from anywhere, even in the midst of a hundred people.
"Dad?" she asked tentatively, pushing herself up into a sitting position. Her chest throbbed dully from where she had been kicked, although her ribs twinged as she twisted to come to rest on her knees.
A booted foot connected with her stomach, sending her crashing into the wall a few feet behind her. Her breath left her lungs with a sudden rush, leaving her gasping on the floor, a small seed sending snaking tendrils of fear out into her heart.
"Dad, what are you doing?" Sam asked, her voice weak as she forced her lungs to once again expand, taking in the much needed oxygen.
"Shut up," the man snapped, backhanding her across the side of her face viciously.
Her head smacked into the floor as his knuckles hit her cheekbone, black whispering on the fringes of her vision. She blinked, forcing her mind and body back under her control, stopping herself from crying out.
Sam picked herself up again, using the wall behind her to help her get to her feet. Jacob, who had stepped back after slapping her, allowed her to gain her feet, although he never ceased watching her. One arm wrapped itself around her chest, hoping to alleviate some of the sharp, stabbing pain that had spread after being kicked a second time.
"Dad, stop," Sam ordered, taking a step forward, reaching out with her free hand to take one of Jacob's.
"You have no right to tell me what to do. You never have, and never will," he added, and moved, faster than Sam could ever remember her father moving.
One booted foot slammed into her knee, forcing a cry of pain out from between clenched teeth as Sam fell to one knee. She barely saw the clenched fist driving inward toward her face in her peripheral vision, and reacted upon instinct. She threw herself backwards, rolling to take herself clear of the man attempting to harm her. Her back hit the wall and she pulled herself to her feet, just in time to knock a second punch away from her face.
He kneed her, knocking the wind out of her already hurting lungs. She doubled over, then slammed her head into his stomach, sending him stumbling back. She followed through with her attack, kicking him in the face, hoping to knock him unconscious. She heard bone snap, and knew she had broken his nose. But he had either seen, or anticipated, her attack, allowing the blow that was sure to land slam into him, all the while loosening his body so that he fell backward with the blow, rolling as he landed.
Sam's foot came to rest on the ground, and she shifted her weight, preparing to launch herself at her father again, this time to ensure that he was knocked unconscious. Her leg buckled, the injured knee unable to support all of her weight, and she stumbled, barely managing to keep herself upright.
Jacob was on her in less than a second, wrapping her in a deadly embrace. He slammed her to the floor, his heavy body pressing hers down, one arm pressing down on her windpipe, the other grasping to get a hold of her free hand, her left hand having been trapped beneath her torso as he had pinned her.
"Dad, please, what's going on?" Sam asked again, bracing herself for another attack. Instead, Jacob, sitting up and placing one knee in the cavity just below her rib cage to keep her on the ground, removed his hand from her throat, threading his fingers through her hair instead.
He didn't answer her, only smiled, a single shaft of light falling across his and his daughter's faces, showing the feral smirk that adorned his features as well as the frightened confusion on Sam's.
"You're going to die here," Jacob told her, his voice low and menacing, gripping her wrist so hard she could feel the blood vessels rupture. She clenched her teeth, determined to not make a sound.
The next thing she saw was blackness.
~SG-1~SG-1~SG-1~
Jacob Carter stood up, releasing the limp form of his daughter from his tight hold. Her head, which he had just slammed into the ground, fell with a thud to the dirt floor, the scent of fresh blood pervading the air. He couldn't help it if there were pieces of broken stone and forgotten nails mixed in with the dark soil.
He kicked her in the side to ensure that she was truly unconscious, then turned. He went to the far wall, lifting the latch of the door and letting himself out. After closing the door, he picked up the beam lying by the frame. He fitted it into the metal brackets, pulling on the handle to make sure that it was shut tightly. Reassured, he lowered himself to the ground, leaning back against the wall.
It was lucky that his daughter was close to the same size as he, he reflected as he pushed his feet outward, realizing that, if they weren't, then he would be forced to wear uncomfortable shoes. It was either that or none at all.
Jacob rested his head against the faded, worn, wooden slats that formed the walls of the shack, closing his eyes and breathing in the rich, warm, forest scent that filled the air around him.
A little over a month ago, he and Selmak had been sent on a mission. The objective: to help Socran, a fellow Tok'ra, to repair a set of Goa'uld ring transporters. They would then use said rings to transport Tok'ra into the base so they could capture or kill Belenus, as well as have full access to all of his research.
A bit of a forward and brazen attack, for the Tok'ra at least, but Jacob, and Selmak privately agreed, that the Tok'ra were learning more from their allies, the Tau'ri, than they would care to admit.
And so, with Socran's aide, the two had gotten the ring transporters in working condition. Then, while testing them, Socran sent Jacob through the link to the other side. It was then that he was discovered in the Ring Room by Belenus, and was killed instantly for being a traitor. The Goa'uld had sent his Jaffa after the ignorant Jacob, who had been captured mere moments later.
The next thing Jacob could clearly remember was being carried through the nearly abandoned hallways of Belenus' base, a young Jaffa supporting his weight. He could sense his daughter somewhere slightly ahead of them, and something inside of him had awoken, spurring him into action.
With a single blow, Jacob had rendered the Jaffa unconscious, then proceeded to do the same to his daughter. As he caught her slumping form, it was as if the same thing that had awoken inside of him the moment before was morphing into a monster. It roared for her blood, keening for her death.
Jacob, realizing that the corridor was too open and unsafe of a place to finish what he had begun, and retreated to the Ring Room, his daughter's unconscious body in his arms. Remembering the old, mostly destroyed guardhouse standing beside the Ring Platform, Jacob had keyed in the specific commands to the transporter, and was swept away in a rush of blue-white light, surrounded by the curious hum that always accompanied a transport.
Sitting in the gray sunlight, Jacob realized that he had loved the woman once. And at the same moment, Jacob realized that he couldn't remember ever stopping loving her. Yet, whenever her face intruded in on his thoughts, a sudden surge of anger and hatred spiked through his body and he knew, with stunning clarity, that he would kill the woman lying bruised and unconscious in the room behind him.
Deep inside, he could hear Selmak hum in agreement, sounding more like one of her cousins than a true Tok'ra, and yet Jacob hardly even noticed. A strange and sudden feeling overwhelmed him, blinding and deafening him.
And yet, Selmak, I don't want to kill her Jacob told him symbiote, using the voice that the two of them, alone, shared.
Selmak stirred, sending a thought laced with confusion and question instead of words.
Have you never hated one so much that, without them, your life becomes nothing and meaningless? Jacob asked, his eyes fluttering as he awaited her reply.
No Selmak replied. All those that I despise I despise for good reason. They are ones that must be killed, and quickly, so that none can be harmed further.
And what about Sam? Jacob asked his symbiote, pressing her further. Are you saying that she must be killed?
This caused Selmak to hesitate, considering his words carefully. No…you are right. I think we should not kill her she finally said, her 'tone' thoughtful. Without her, there will be nothing else to live for.
Jacob nodded, agreeing with her, although he got the strange feeling that Selmak could have perhaps meant it in a different way than he had originally thought she had. He brushed the odd thought away, shoving it into the back of his mind.
This is the curse of hate. You hate someone so much that they consume you. It is like love, Jacob decided; a frightening, cruel, harsh, sadistic, lethal love.
A feral grin spread slowly across Jacob's face. But we can make her suffer.
Silently, Selmak howled in agreement.
~SG-1~SG-1~SG-1~
Sam awoke with a start, the gray light that was shining into the hut that of early afternoon. Sometime during the night, she had awoken, her head pounding even more than before, if that was possible, and her hair matted with blood. An hour later, she had slipped into a light sleep.
A short time after the sun had risen, and then was promptly covered by a thick layer of dark, ominous clouds, Sam had been awoken again, this time by the sound of a Ring Transport being activated. For an instant, she had thought that it was SG-1, but the small flickering flame that had been her hope had been extinguished after she had peered through the cracks in the boards only to find nothing moving outside at all.
Pulling herself upright, Sam had attempted to escape from her prison. The door, unsurprisingly, had been bolted shut, but she hadn't given up. Instead, she inspected the walls of the shack inch my inch, searching for a weak spot in the wood. And yet, although there were numerous cracks in both the walls and the ceiling, none of the boards would give enough for her to pull them apart; and while the floor was bare earth, it was too tightly packed for her to dig her way out. The only result of her attempts were splinters buried beneath her fingernails, her fingertips bleeding fitfully and throbbing whenever she moved them.
She finally sagged against the walls, the rough wood digging into her side painfully. Her head hurt, as did her chest and back, and black was beginning to cloud her vision. Where was the rest of SG-1? Surely Teal'c had managed to rescue them. Jea'fron had seemed to be fairly confident, hadn't he? She couldn't really remember. Couldn't concentrate…what was wrong with her?
The whine of a Ring Transporter brought her back to reality, forcing her eyes open as the door was unbolted. Early morning sunlight hidden by a thick layer of clouds streamed in, aggravating her head even more. She groaned, lifting a hand to shield her sensitive eyes from the piercing light.
"I don't know why I'm doing this," her father said gruffly, kneeling down beside her. Sam looked at him, her face unreadable and her eyes cold. He lifted a water bottle, uncorking it and tilting it back so she could drink. He barely gave her a mouthful, before he was taking it away again, grinning in the cruel way Sam had been learning to dread.
And with that, he was gone, closing the door behind him. Belatedly, Sam realized she should have, once again, attempted to escape. But she realized she never would have managed it; would only have succeeded in getting herself beat up even more than she already was.
Her mind traveled onward, searching for something else to focus on. Where had her father gone? He had returned with water; clean water in a standard military issued canteen. So where had he gotten it? The only answer Sam could come up with was that Jacob had returned to wherever the SGC personnel were settled. And if they were still on the planet, then it was likely that they were looking for her. This filled Sam with a small, flickering grain of hope.
It was the only thing she had to hold onto in her darkening world.
~SG-1~SG-1~SG-1~
Please let this just be a nightmare. Please let this just be some sort of seriously fucked up dream, Sam prayed, curled onto her side, clenching her hands into tight fists, her eyes closed tightly. And yet, even as she thought the words, she knew she had her answer.
She hurt everywhere; her chest was one mass of throbbing and aching, her back bruised and bleeding. Her torn shirt brushed her welted skin, sending spasms of pain throughout her torso, causing her to bite her lip in agony. Her hair was matted with congealed blood, a cut above her right eye continuing to drip the same red liquid slowly, and whenever she attempted to move her left leg, which was pinned beneath her right, she felt a sharp throb emanate from her right thigh directly above her knee.
He had beaten her, whipped her with her belt like he hadn't since she was eleven. No, she automatically corrected herself, actually worse; her father had never before beaten her until her back was bloody and her ribs were bruised from the impact of the buckle slamming into her flesh repeatedly. And then he had cut her right leg above the knee to ribbons after she had punched him, attempting to render him unconscious so she could escape and get help.
Sometimes it really sucks to have a father as both an Air Force officer and a Tok'ra Sam decided morbidly, continuing to fight the nausea that had been threating to overwhelm her for the past hour.
Her head throbbed dully, and she could feel a numbness beginning to creep over her. She welcomed it, slowing her breathing, forcing it to take on a calm, even pattern. Slowly, the world around her faded, leaving her in a sea of darkness.
~SG-1~SG-1~SG-1~
The next few days were a blur to Sam, filled with long periods of blackness and visions of pain brought by her father. Slowly, another feeling began to build up inside of her; one that slowly, day by eternal day, stole her heart, turning it black and bleeding: fear.
Major Samantha Carter had been tortured before, had been pushed to the limit of human capabilities and endurance. And yet never had she experienced anything like she was being forced through now. For this time it was her father that was harming her; it was her own father that was slowly beating her to death, enjoying the pain that his actions brought her.
What is a father? Sam wondered to herself in one of her more lucid moments. Is it merely the man who sired you?
No. It was something more profound, much more intimate than that. A father was someone that held their daughter at night, after she had woken screaming from a nightmare; it was the man that could simply sit by his little girl as they gazed up at the stars, speaking of nothing and yet carrying on a conversation; he was the one that would look into his daughter's eyes and tell her he loved her.
Jacob Carter was none of these things, and Major Samantha Carter was afraid of him.
He would give her water once a day, as well as the most undesirable parts from random MREs. Sam wondered where he had gotten the food from, but decided she didn't have the strength or wherewithal to care too much.
And then, one day, the feeling of pain changed. It was no longer merely the kicks and the blows, being whipped with belts or willowy canes, but became, instead a much more intense, chilling pain.
She was kicked awake, blinking in the afternoon sunlight. For the first time, it was sunny outside, a rich, golden light gleaming in through the cracks in the walls. She was too weak to truly care about the blow, only curling around her side as she hit the hard-packed dirt floor on one shoulder. A small gasp escaped her lips before she locked them tightly together.
Jacob knelt beside her, grasping an ear and pulling her head around so he could look into her eyes. He sighed, then said, "It's a shame, really," and then it felt like fire was blossoming over her stomach.
The searing feeling suddenly vanished, and Sam lay on the floor, held tightly in the grips of shock, gasping. She lay flat on her back, her legs stretched out and her arms flopped uselessly on the ground beside her. Jacob lowered the implement again, touching her bare skin through a rip in her t-shirt.
Once again, it felt as if flame was licking at her skin, scorching the tender tissue, before passing down, deeper inside. It felt as if her very innards were on fire, the heat ravaging her entire core. She screamed, grasping at Jacob's hand, attempting to push it away. Her fingers came into contact with a small, smooth, cone shaped object that Jacob was holding. As soon as her fingertips touched the shimmering surface, it felt as if her fingers were being burned. She scrabbled frantically at both his arm and the object until Jacob finally removed the device from her body, grinning down at her sadistically.
He inspected her stomach, his own fingers brushing her skin. She winced as he prodded the bruises that dwelled there, but the last tingling remnants of the burnt feeling were already dissipating, being absorbed by her body.
Cold so severe she thought her skin would split open followed. As she screamed, she vaguely wondered if anyone had ever caused their throats to bleed from sheer amount of yelling.
That was her last thought before the blessed darkness took her yet again.
~SG-1~SG-1~SG-1~
She's getting weaker Selmak commented as Jacob stood, pocketing the burn/freeze device.
So I've noticed Jacob replied sarcastically, bolting the door behind him as he left.
She is going to die soon Selmak continued.
I know Jacob replied tersely. He wasn't entirely sure why, but the thought bothered him. True, it would mean that he would no longer have his lab rat, but there seemed to be something else that caused the revulsion that bubbled up in his stomach at the thought of ending her life.
That was the entire purpose Selmak grated, addressing his thoughts of killing her.
I know Jacob said again, this time even more crossly. I know that that's why we kidnapped her; so we could kill her in peace and quiet. But…there's just something not quite right about this.
This caused Selmak to pause for a moment. Finally, she sighed, sending comforting thoughts through their bond to her host.
Either way, it will all be over soon. She won't be able to survive much longer, regardless of what we do. Her 'tone' was soft, almost sympathetic and Jacob frowned.
The frown vanished almost at once, however. At least we'll have time to experiment with a few more devices Jacob said, his tone much lighter and more carefree than it had the moment before.
Selmak rumbled in agreement.
The two of them had been raiding Belenus' old base for quite some time now; the Tau'ri had set up a temporary base there while searching for the woman. It had, in truth, been quite easy for Jacob to sneak in and back out, carrying food, water, and after a few successful trips, even some of Belenus' own research and torture devices.
Selmak was indeed very curious about the various implements that they had found in one of Belenus' workrooms, saying that it would be most beneficial to gather as much information about them as possible, due to the fact that many operatives would likely face similar technology in the future.
And so, Jacob swiped a few of the devices, deciding that they would first discover exactly what they did, then how they worked. The days of idly twiddling their thumbs while the woman was unconscious were over.
Jacob sat beside the hut, pulling the torture device apart and scattering the various pieces around him as he and Selmak examined the technology. After only a quarter of an hour, Jacob put the pieces down, grumbling to himself.
A headache is not what I need right now he thought, grinding his teeth. He stood, stretching and cracking his back, then sauntered toward the pile of supplies that he had gathered over the course of the week. He rummaged around in one of the packs for a moment, recognizing the telltale signs of hunger, then stopped.
We have one MRE left he grumped. This day just keeps getting better and better.
It's not my fault you eat like a pig Selmak said indignantly.
Jacob refrained from retorting that "he sure as hell didn't eat half as much before Selmak came along, so it most certainly was her fault", but stopped himself before the thought actually formed. Selmak, however, seemed to have gotten an idea of where his mind was going, for she chuckled darkly.
I suppose this means we need to make another supply run Selmak said, breaking the silence, all the while thinking longingly of the pile of scattered remains that was once the torture device.
It'll be here when we get back Jacob assured his symbiote, much like he would an anxious five year-old. She sighed melodramatically in reply, but acquiesced with all due grace.
With the nimble fingers of much practice, Jacob keyed the proper coordinates into the control panel, and was swept away by the Ring Transporters as they rose from the earth in a fountain of light.
When the white blue glow died, Jacob found himself in the Transport Room. The first time he had transported back into the base, he had found himself in Belenus' private quarters but, after finding that the SGC personnel were situated closer to the official Transport Room, Jacob had elected to be ringed there instead.
Jacob slunk out of the Transport Room, sticking to the shadows whenever possible. With comfortable ease, he maneuvered the hallways and stairs, only slowing when he reached the sector of the base that the Tau'ri were currently using.
Jacob snuck through the halls, stopping in front of a plain, unmarked door. Looking both ways, Jacob slid his hand over the automatic opener and stole inside as soon as the door was open. He grabbed the supplies that he needed from the piles of essentials, then returned to the corridor outside.
He considered stopping by Belenus' lab to pick up a few more toys, but Selmak reminded him that they still have four more back at the guardhouse. Jacob agreed, and the two of them hurried back to the Transport Room, both anxious to return to their hideout.
I wish we didn't have to go sneaking around the SGC people like this Jacob grumbled.
I know, but you know that, if they saw you, they would follow you and find Major Carter.
Which is why I haven't walked right into the camp already Jacob shot back. Selmak fell silent and Jacob could only assume that she had lapsed into thinking, something she often did.
They had just entered the Transport Room when, suddenly, Jacob stopped, convinced for an instant that he had heard something. He was completely still, listening with all his might. Selmak lent her aid, but even with the Tok'ra's enhanced senses, Jacob couldn't detect anyone nearby.
He shrugged mentally, keyed in the command specific to bringing them to the guardhouse, and was swept up in the customary column of light.
~SG-1~SG-1~SG-1~
Out in the hallway, Colonel Jack O'Neill paused, thinking he had heard something in the room nearby. He peered into the darkened chamber, saw nothing, and continued on his way, dismissing the occurrence from his mind altogether.