Authors Note:
I hadn't intended to add to this story but found myself thinking about the actual experience of being revived in a sarcophagus ... and from those thoughts came this little follow on piece. It's a little grim ... sorry.
oOo
Chapter 2: Dreams of the Abyss
Awareness returned gradually ... Jack felt like he was surfacing from a sleep deeper than any he'd experienced before. He was aware ... of himself, of being Jack O'Neill, but still he slept on, unable to wake no matter how hard he tried. And he did try ... he didn't want to see what awaited him in the darkness.
Memories hovered, circled, and then struck with great force.
"Death will only offer a temporary escape. I can revive you again and again…a thousand times if need be." Ba'al's voice ... cultured and cruel, mocking.
Knives shooting towards him, slaves to the same gravity that held Jack in place. Pain stabbing through his chest ... his shoulder ... his heart.
In his mind, firm resolution. "Say nothing."
Death.
oOo
"The Tal'vak acid will take some time to burn through all the way. Though it cauterizes the flesh as it burns, a very small amount often finds its way into the blood and begins to spread." Ba'al again, almost academically amused as he explained his choice of torture device.
Acid, burning. Eating through flesh, through bone.
Eating away Jack's sanity.
And in his mind the constant chant. "Don't give him what he wants!"
Death.
oOo
"Gravity is a remarkable thing. Simple ... benign ... necessary. Until the force is increased and it becomes the malevolent fist crushing the life from your body." Ba'al, this time as mad scientist delighting in tormenting the subject under his microscope.
Invisible weight, pressing down on every inch of Jack's body.
Crushing ... bones, vessels ... every cell all at the same time.
Stealing his breath – stealing everything.
This time, in his mind there was only one word ... "Nooooooooooooo."
Death.
oOo
The pain of a friend's return ... of discovering it was Daniel but at the same time so very not the friend he'd known for seven years.
Jack's emphatic plea. "Then help me!"
Daniel's stubborn reply. "Not that way!"
Disappointment ... despair.
"Don't beg," he urged himself. "You're a better man than that."
"That's where you're wrong!"
And through it all there was death. Pain and death and ever more pain ... over and over again.
Memory of thought and action merged until Jack was confused about what was real and what was only taking place in his head.
oOo
Knives ... impacting like bullets, hitting hard ...
"I believe the answers are there in your mind. I will find them. If I have to…dig…them out."
Acid drops ... hitting his body like rain ...
"If you tell me what I wish to know, I will end this. One…last…time"
The unseen weight crushing from the inside out ...
"There isn't always a way out, Jack."
Pain that led only to death.
oOo
Millions of needles stabbing everywhere – vicious and relentless. White light, blinding through eyelids that would not open.
Trapped. Enclosed.
The unbearable pain of life returning ...
Jack surged up in bed, heart pounding in his chest and loudly in his ears. Raising shaking hands, he rubbed them over his sweaty face, breathing hard.
The first time Ba'al had killed him there had only been what felt like a brief period when he wasn't aware of himself. Just after the knife had struck his heart and stopped it cold.
"Damn it," he muttered, thoughts still back at Ba'al's outpost even though the nightmare had released him from its grip. Now he was at the mercy of his memories – worse than any nightmare ever could be.
In his mind he was back there ... where the memories had been created.
oOo
Jack wasn't sure what he thought would happen when he died ... he'd hoped that Charlie would be waiting for him 'on the other side' but deep down he hadn't really believed it. Truth be known all he'd really been expecting was a whole lot of nothing ... the sleep you never woke up from.
One thing he had expected was for it not to hurt ... SO not the case! In fact, his entire being was suffused with excruciating pain.
If this was death then Jack wanted to talk to the man in charge about a refund because frankly the whole experience was more than a little unsatisfying.
Maybe his detractors over the years had been right and he really had gone to hell.
oOo
Jack floated in that sea of pain and disappointment for a while before the truth began to rise to the surface. It was at about the same time that the pain shifted from the all over, nonspecific kind to a microscopic, stabbing through every cell in his body kind. He could actually feel it ... bones shifting, muscle and sinew rejoining, vessels reforming.
He wasn't in heaven or hell ... he was in Ba'al's sarcophagus ... making the trip from dead to alive and well.
And it hurt like a son of a bitch!
That's when he'd learned that the Gou'ald didn't care whether their hosts suffered pain during the healing process. It was obvious to Jack the symbiote could shield itself so they'd designed the technology just to get the job done. A tool to fix another tool – each without feeling or thought.
On the Jack O'Neill pain scale, zero being 'I can't even feel that' and ten being 'fine, take me the infirmary', coming back from the dead was a fifty ... as in 'I'd rather stay dead - kill me now because it'd be a mercy'.
Once he'd worked out where he was, Jack felt the edges of panic skirting his mind. He wasn't claustrophobic as a general rule but this wasn't a dark cave or a tight space. This was blinding white light he knew was there but couldn't see because he couldn't open his eyes.
This was not being in control ... being in agony but not being able to do a damn thing to stop it.
This was being completely at the mercy of enemy technology he didn't trust.
Jack tried to find something to distract him from the burning need to break free or just yell really, really loudly but there was nothing. It got so bad that he wasn't sure it wouldn't sent him mad.
oOo
"For crying out loud," Jack jumped from his bed, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes in an effort to shut out the memories. Sleeping now would be impossible.
Throwing on his clothes haphazardly, he quickly left his quarters and headed for the mess.
Raiding the refrigerator for cake, Jack took his spoils to a table in the semi-darkness and sat down wearily, fork in hand.
"Couldn't sleep?" Daniel's voice from the doorway drew Jack's attention.
"It happens," Jack said lightly, having no intention of telling the other man the why. "You?"
"Still getting used to the need," Daniel alluded to his recent return from ascension with a slight smile.
"Well, pull up a chair," Jack invited with a smirk. "Plenty of cake for both of us."
"Thanks," Daniel did as instructed, stopping only to grab a second fork.
They sat in silence for a while ... more companionable than it had been since Daniel's return.
"Did we really get alien super powers ... Sam, you and I?" Daniel asked suddenly.
"Ah ... the armbands," Jack grinned, thinking back. "That's a good one."
Settling back the two friends traded memories ... the kind Jack didn't mind taking out and reflecting on.
The End.