Chapter 5: Mr Brown – take our guest to the labs

Giving in to the tears, while satisfying in a girly way, wasn't going to get my cuts attended to. So after a few minutes of snivelling I dragged myself up from the floor and into the adjoining bathroom - the one I hadn't noticed when I'd been in the room that afternoon. I grimaced when I got a look at myself in the mirror. One side of my face was a mess of dirt and congealed blood overlaid with a fresher layer of the brighter red stuff. My eyes were red rimmed, my hair was a complete mess, and I was far too pale. Rather than give in to how that image said I should be feeling I turned determinedly away, opening almost every cabinet before I found the elusive first aid kit.

There wasn't a lock on the door but I did have a wooden chair – probably easily broken if someone really wanted to get inside, but enough once wedged under the door knob to have me feeling comfortable treating myself.

First up was my leg ... I struggled out of my jeans, a process that almost had me vomiting again at the pain of ripping denim away from an open wound after it had become partially stuck to said wound.

Parking myself on the toilet seat with my leg stretched out in front of me I opened the kit and started with the disinfectant, pouring it over the still bleeding wounds resolutely.

Oh God that really, really hurt – no one would willingly do that to themselves ... which explained the whole need for doctors! Sucking it in bravely I rummaged around until I found some of those little butterfly bandaids used when stitches aren't required. I probably did need stitches but there was no way I was doing a Rambo and stitching myself up. Instead I used the strips along each cut, glad that because the knife had been so sharp the edges fused together easily. Covering the strips with some gauze and then wrapping the whole thing up with a long bandage was the best I could do. As long as I didn't jump around too much the wounds should heal with little scaring, despite what Brown had said.

Leg done I moved on to my face. I had to wash it first to see how bad it really was – eyes watering at the sting I threw handful after handful of water against my face until the run off seemed relatively clean. Once again I did the same disinfectant followed by butterfly stitches routine. As with my leg, the wound was deep enough for stitches but clean enough that the alternative would do instead. A thick white gauze bandage over that one would only make me look like a freak so I left it as it was ... the stark white of the strips helping my skin look not quite so pale in contrast.

Once I'd finished first aiding myself I relaxed the control I'd been keeping over myself, shuddering as bone deep weakness immediately descended over me. I'd lost more blood that was probably good for me and hadn't eaten in more than five hours so that wasn't a surprise. Hoping Doctor Walker's form of punishment didn't include long term starvation I walked unsteadily back into the main bedroom. There was no way I was putting on those dirty blood stained jeans so the last thing I forced myself to do before resting was look for clothes. Turns out Walker was one step up from the completely heartless thug I'd thought him – a number of comfortable plain tracksuits complete with serviceable underwear were packed away in draws – all in my size which caused another major freak out on my part.

Sitting down abruptly on the edge of the bed I struggled to get control of my churning emotions ... the session with Brown and colleague had been bad enough, but the idea that Walker had planned in advance to keep me there for some time was so much worse. Eyes on those clothes I sat there thinking too many negative thoughts to admit to.

"Get it together Sabina!" I coached myself sternly. I'd only be making myself uncomfortable not to use those clothes and it would bolster my confidence to appear unaffected by my treatment so in the end I almost gratefully changed out of my ruined clothes and into a set of theirs.

Energy reserves pretty much depleted I stretched out on the bed on my back, closing my eyes tiredly.

My minds eye flashed images at me frantically - I saw a knife glinting in the light, Brown's face enjoying the thrill of cutting me, Smith looking at me lasciviously – images straight out my imagination. The reality shots were there too – Walker's eyes filled with evil intent towards me, Brown feeling me up as he searched me for weapons, the feel of Smith breathing down my neck, the sickening taste of him forcing that kiss on me.

Snapping my eyes back open I sat up fast enough to make myself dizzy. Putting a hand over my mouth didn't stop the urge to vomit and so I ended up in the bathroom again, this time bending over the toilet instead of using it for a seat. It was pretty much dry retching since my stomach was long past empty but I still had to do a lot of it before my muscles unclenched and I began to recover some of my calm. Making my way slowly back to bed I lay down again, this time conjuring up as many happy memories of John and Atlantis as I could, clinging to them mentally to get me past the point of terror and into sleep.

oOo

Early the next morning I discovered Walker's punishment didn't include depriving me of food. Strangely, after my initial difficulty sleeping I'd stayed asleep for the entire night ... exhaustion and blood loss assisted of course – not a combination that would be a popular treatment for insomnia.

I was already stirring when another henchman I'd never seen before woke me all the way up with a tray of basic breakfast fare. I wondered briefly if it was drugged in some way, considered what John might say or do in the same situation, and decided to just eat the food. They'd been very up front in their intentions so far and going the sneaky route at that stage of the game didn't make sense.

Doctor Walker gave me enough time to clean myself up and check my wounds. I'd only just gotten myself into another set of fresh clothes before an insistent pounding knock sounded on the door.

"Doctor Walker would like you to join him for coffee," Brown's voice caused nervous shivers to run down my spine, even through the closed door.

"You can do this," I muttered under my breath, steeling myself to give the appearance of being unconcerned in Brown's presence, despite what he'd done to me the day before. Opening the door with a hopefully natural smirk in place I quipped "I was gonna try out the local Starbucks but I guess instant will do."

"This way," Brown turned without even attempting conversation and led me down the stairs and across to a dining room. Walker was sitting at the head of the large dark oak table that dominated the room, reading the paper. There were six chairs available but the only one occupied was Walkers - obviously no other places had been set. I guess henchmen never dined with their bosses. It was all very surreal ... being treated like a guest in such a pleasant environment while feeling the underlying current of menace that permeated the air.

"Ah good morning Ms Scott," Walker greeted me pleasantly. "Or can I call you Sabina?"

"No," I said abruptly, sitting down in the adjacent chair Brown pushed me towards. Glancing at Walker quickly I couldn't help the smug smile that appeared on my face when I got a good look at his bruised and still swollen nose.

"I see a night of rest hasn't improved your disposition," Walker said in amusement.

"Yeah well having your goons play knives on me left a bad taste in my mouth," I replied, "not to mention the whole self doctoring thing."

"You appear to have done an acceptable job," Walker directed his gaze towards the cut on my face. "Perhaps you would like me to check your wounds – as I said yesterday I am a fully qualified medical doctor."

"Perhaps not," I returned dismissively. "Brown mentioned coffee – I hope you can do better than freeze dried instant."

Walker exchanged a glance with Brown, presumably ordering him to get someone to fix me up, before turning back to me. "You've had a night to consider your situation. Are you feeling more cooperative this morning?"

"I don't get why you even need my cooperation," I gestured around the room and added, "not to mention the gilded cage routine. You said you needed my blood to do some tests – we both know I couldn't stop you if you decided to just take some."

"True," Walker agreed, "but we're civilised humans, not savages. You're stay with us is likely to be protracted and it would be helpful to me, not to mention safer for you if I had your agreement to do what we ask. That way we can avoid repetitions of yesterdays failed escape attempt and resultant punishment."

"You don't want to damage the goods too much," I concluded.

"Do I have your agreement?" Walker asked, looking at me with a warning clearly evident on his face. I waited as Brown returned, steaming mug in hand and set is somewhat resentfully down in front of me. He then took up position behind Walkers right shoulder – even without the humiliating stick fight it was pretty clear he was never gonna be one of those thugs you could talk around to your side.

"What are you planning on doing to me once you've got what you wanted?" I asked instead, turning my mug in a slow circle but not drinking from it. "Because the flagrant revelations on your and your hired goon's identities doesn't say you'll just let me go at the end."

"That depends entirely on your level of cooperation," Walker said evasively.

"Yeah right," I laughed harshly before shaking my head sadly. "I'm not a fool Doctor Walker and I'm thinking you and I both know exactly where this is ending. So I'm gonna have to decline your gracious offer for a pleasant experience here before you kill me. There's nothing in it for me to make things easy for you."

"What about the continuing well being of your precious Colonel Sheppard?" Walker threatened harshly. "Would you be so cavalier with that?"

"You want me to believe you can get to John?" I asked incredulously. "You seem to know a lot about us but obviously not enough if you think your hired goons would stand any chance against him – John will be on his guard and you won't get past him again."

"You underestimate the levels at which actions can be taken to get the desired effect," Walker threatened. "Did you not wonder how it was I knew of your imminent marital plans?"

"Lucky guess?" I suggested. "And not exactly out there if you know as much about us as you say you do."

"So it would surprise you to learn that Colonel Sheppard spoke to high ranking members of the SGC and the IOA before you left for the airport?" Walker's smugness resurfaced as the casual look dropped off my face.

Crap, crap, crap! It didn't surprise me at all because John and I had already talked about him having to ask for permission (something that personally I thought completely ridiculous!). The timing was something I hadn't considered but then I guess John decided to take the opportunity while it was there – knowing the IOA they'd probably take months to decide so it made sense to ask now rather than when we actually wanted to do something about it. The worrying part was that Walker clearly had someone very high up giving him eyes and ears at the SGC.

"Let's cut to the chase shall we," I leant forward to get my point across. "The only thing that will be driving my behaviour is John's opinion of me when he eventually finds out everything that went on here ... and he will. He'd be disappointed in me if I just gave in and helped you create god only knows what. So I'm not – giving in that is."

"Very well," Doctor Walker rose from his chair abruptly; glancing back at his right hand henchman. "Mr Brown – take our guest to the labs."

"You could have at least let me drink the coffee first," I complained as Brown pulled me roughly up from the chair and dragged me away.

Authors Note:

Re the marriage license 'rules' I used in the last chapter (Interlude 3), I researched a few US states on Google and found the rules were different depending on which state the application was lodged in. Here in Australia you put in an application and some time later you get it approved and if that's before 28 days have passed you have to wait the rest of the 28 days to actually get married ... my understanding of US laws (driven primarily by all the highly realistic TV I've watched over the years) was that it is similar in most states, except places like Las Vegas which accept applications and approve them on the spot, with no waiting times to get married. That might not be the case any more - I'm a long way from the US and Google only goes so far, plus researching marriage laws for all 52 states would have been painful overkill. In any case I deliberately put in (as John in his POV) that as far as he knew Vegas was the only place to take an application and approve it on the spot. He's a guy - I think it's believeable that everything he knows about marriage laws he also learnt from watching TV and movies. So to summarise the purpose for this overly long authors note - apologies if my take on marriage licenses doesn't line up with the reality as you know it :D.

Next Up? "The Other Side of the Story: John's Point of View" Interlude 4