/
13.
Dark
"I can save these people! Help me!" he shouts at Teal'c, putting every ounce of resolve and sincerity into his words. "Help me."
The Jaffa stares at him for a long moment, his face impassive. "Many have said that."
And Jack thinks they've lost.
But then Teal'c spins away from him, opening fire on his own Jaffa.
Inwardly, he cheers.
"But you are the first I believe could do it!"
He catches the staff weapon Teal'c throws at him, and together they dispatch the remaining guards before he turns the weapon on the back wall of the holding cell, blasting a hole right through it.
As he stands by the gap, ushering people through, he realises the light spilling into the room isn't the light of day - it shimmers and undulates like a glimmering pool of water.
Nice of them to put a gate right there, he thinks.
The last prisoner is through, and Jack holds out an arm to Teal'c. "Come on, T," he says, placing a hand firmly on one, massive shoulder and giving him an encouraging push towards the event horizon.
Just before Teal'c steps through he turns to him, an uneasy look settling across his features.
Only he realises that Teal'c isn't looking at him, but past him - into the empty room that is now so dark that all he can see is the ripple of light from the Stargate playing across the prison bars on the opposite side.
When did it get so dark?
He scans the room, staring into the shadows as though they would miraculously reveal their contents to him, but it's like an impenetrable curtain.
And they are definitely not empty.
Because he can hear it; faint murmuring and the soft shifting of sand being moved by something heavy.
Something low.
Something crawling.
He's dimly aware that Teal'c is gone, and so is the staff weapon Jack held in his hand just seconds ago.
He's only a few steps from the gate.
Just a few steps.
But he knows he won't make it.
The gate deactivates, plunging the room into pitch blackness, and he immediately backs up against the wall. All of his senses are trained on that sound, moving ever closer, as he tries to pinpoint the direction it's coming from, when suddenly it is drowned out by the familiar noise of an incoming wormhole.
Reflexively, he throws himself onto the ground and out of the way of the vortex as it explodes over his head - bathing everything in bright white light.
Jack blinks rapidly, momentarily blinded and trying desperately to refocus his eyes, except that the burning circles in his vision that he thinks are an afterimage are not an afterimage.
Two gleaming orbs stare back at him from just a few feet away, sunken into the wasted features of a face that he should recognise, because it's Kawalsky...
... but it isn't.
It can't be.
He's dead.
The murmuring somehow grows louder despite the fact that the thing smiles at him, thin lips curving almost gleefully over clenched teeth, and then it reaches one hand across the floor towards him. It's gaunt fingers sink and slide through the sand as it tries to pull itself forward.
"Jack!"
He wrenches his eyes away from the creature to the woman who is now grabbing at his tactical vest, pulling him to his knees and then to his feet.
The murmuring feels like it's expanding, filling his head, deafening him, but her voice cuts through it.
"C'mon, Jack!" she yells, blue eyes earnest. "You won't find Charlie here..."
He is frozen, slack jawed, and she takes his hand then, threading her fingers through his before turning back towards the event horizon, pulling him with her as she leaps into it.
"... it's too dark," she says over her shoulder just before they hit its rippling surface.
The last thing he sees before his vision goes white is a halo of golden hair.
/
/
He hears a voice as though from the end of a long tunnel. The tunnel is very dark, and the voice is not particularly pleasant - like someone reading under their breath; monotonous, ceaseless murmuring. There is something pitiful about it that grates on his brain - prods at the feeling of disquiet that's unfurling in his chest.
Opening his eyes is an effort; his eyelids are heavy and everything seems to ache as though he's just been through a triathlon.
He lies on his side, and the first thing he is able to focus on is the pale material of the floor he's lying on. It has a distinct pattern and a sweet, earthy smell, and he guesses that it is grass matting.
Setting his lethargic gaze further away, he has to blink to refocus, and discovers the source of most of his current irritation:
Sani kneeling close to him, praying incessantly, his silvery hair and beard tinged orange in the soft light.
He figures that he must still be in the temple, and his memory of what happened hits him, the shock of it trailing down his limbs like phantom pains. He twitches and shudders, sitting up abruptly, and dully notes that his hands are no longer bound.
Sani's eyes fly to his, wide and rapturous. "Amun! You have finally risen."
Jack sucks in a breath and swallows. Through the cotton wool that is currently his brain he realises that the old man is expecting the Goa'uld, and quickly shifts his expression into something he hopes comes across as indifferent.
"Yes... finally," he says slowly, flatly, testing his voice, relieved not to hear a Goa'uld's deep bass come out of his mouth.
He's not really sure what's happening, though; despite feeling like he's been drugged all over again, and the beginning of a splitting headache, he feels mostly himself.
"The village celebrates your return, my God," Sani says eagerly. "We have prepared a great feast for you."
"Of course," Jack says, rising to his feet as smoothly and deliberately as he can manage despite the lingering stiffness in his muscles.
Sani pushes to his feet, too. "And our men are preparing themselves to go through the Great Ring at the first light of day tomorrow, as you commanded."
"Good," he responds after a beat. He knows he's being a bit monosyllabic for a Goa'uld, but he doesn't trust himself enough at the moment not to give himself away.
"But please, be assured that the celebrations will not affect our vigilance, oh God," Sani continues in that reverential tone that sets Jack's teeth on edge. "Any followers of the usurper will be seized."
Jack's not really sure what he means by that, unless they were concerned about more people coming through the gate, or...
... or they knew Sam had escaped.
Which brings his addled thoughts swiftly back to Daniel and Teal'c, probably still imprisoned in the mines.
"Give me my weapon, priest," Jack commands, attempting his best 'Amun' impression.
The old man hands it to him without hesitation, and Jack feels the weight of it, the transfer of power - of control.
He could shoot this man right now - could put an end to the hold he has over his people.
But he is just a confused, old man - unarmed now - grasping for meaning.
He can't do it.
And killing him would not solve the much bigger problem of the snake in his head, because he knows it is there. The fuzziness he feels with each thought, each movement, is not tiredness or drowsiness or lethargy - it's something sitting between his mind and his body.
Like a filter sifting and buffering every signal.
He gets an image in his head just then; two glowing pinpricks of light in an ocean of darkness.
He mentally shakes himself, and plants the butt of the staff weapon into the ground with a thud, the sound muted by the matting stretching across the floor.
"I must interrogate the prisoners further," he says decisively, turning towards the temple's entrance. "I must know what Apophis's plans are."
"Yes, my Lord," Sani says, and moves to fall into step beside him.
"No priest..." Jack says quickly, mind reaching for a believable excuse to keep the old man away, "... your presence distracts them."
"Of course," Sani says, bowing his head and coming to a stop. "My apologies."
Jack keeps walking, but turns back to the priest when he reaches the entrance. "You must record the events of this day," he adds, surprising himself, "for we will rewrite the history of this place."
He's not really sure why he's said it, but it makes sense to keep the old man distracted.
The feeling of disquiet slowly growing in his chest gets a little bit heavier.
Outside, he quickly retraces his steps to the entrance of the mine he'd been led from, resisting the urge to look back towards the temple in case Sani was watching him. He enters the mine, and hurries down the long passage, still helpfully lit with torches; he has no memory of walking in this direction since they were all drugged when they were brought here, but it still feels oddly familiar to him.
He pushes the thought down as he sees the side passage he's sure will lead him to the prison cells, and ducks into it, quickening his pace until he finds himself practically bursting into the room where Daniel and Teal'c are being held.
He locks eyes with Teal'c immediately. "O'Neill," the Jaffa states, surprise and wariness clear in his tone.
Jack only nods in acknowledgement, instead dropping to the ground by Daniel's cell where the archaeologist is still propped up against the bars. "Daniel," he whispers, leaning over him, the disquiet edging on panic now as he notices how still Daniel is. "You still with us?"
The line between Daniel's brows creases slightly, and he finally opens his eyes, still slightly glassy in the torchlight. "Jack?"
Jack hesitates at that. "For the moment, at least," he answers cautiously.
"What does that mean?" Daniel asks, blinking, shifting himself to sit up further and wincing for his effort.
"The back of your neck, O'Neill," Teal'c points out.
Jack hadn't even really thought about it until then, but he brings his free hand up, running his fingertips lightly down the nape of his neck.
He can't really feel anything, though.
"It has already nearly healed, but I have seen the mark before," Teal'c continues. "We cannot trust him, Daniel Jackson."
"Look," Jack says, rising to his feet again. "I'm not really sure what's happening here, or what's supposed to happen. Anoki - I mean Amun - did do the transfer thing."
He pauses, looking between Teal'c and Daniel, registering the variations between acceptance and horror on their faces, and it finally hits him: at any moment he could lose the control that he has.
He could cease to move his own body - think his own thoughts.
He could murder his team, his friends, with the weapon in his hand.
No, he thinks.
And feels something push back.
He knows he doesn't have long.
"But," he adds with determination, "I do feel like me right now, and right now we need to get you out of here."
He backs away from Daniel's cell, activates the staff weapon, and makes short work of the lock on the door before turning it on Teal'c's chains, blasting them where they loop through metal rings set into the rock.
Teal'c moves quickly, reaching down to untie the rope binding his legs, and Jack watches the Jaffa stride towards him as though in slow motion, vaguely aware that the edges of his vision are receding.
He tosses the staff at Teal'c and then stumbles backwards, sinking to his knees.
A wave of inexplicable hatred washes over him, and he swallows it down, his stomach churning strangely as though he's going to be sick. He blinks, and Teal'c disappears - the room empty but for a lone figure in one of the cells, the torchlight revealing the tattooed symbol of a serpent guard on his forehead. He shakes his head and blinks again, and this time he thinks he's standing on a plateau - there is packed red earth and a clear blue sky, and men in strange armour stand beside a platform that could only be a ring transporter; the sun is warm on his face.
He closes his eyes, trying to clear the images from his mind, because he knows they're not his - knows they can only be the memories of the Goa'uld trying to take possession of his very being. But the images linger peculiarly, like they're being pulled rather than pushed into his mind.
Like the boundaries of their two consciousnesses have somehow become blurred.
He feels the surprise of the other entity - it's sheer outrage - at his attempt at wresting control, and it twists and turns; slippery like oil trickling down his spine.
But Jack's not done just yet.
He opens his eyes, and Teal'c stands solidly in front of him again, this time supporting a limping Daniel as they prepare to make their escape.
"That way," Jack says, pointing towards the darkened tunnel that Sam had disappeared down earlier. "There's a ring transporter that will take you to the surface."
Jack can tell that Daniel wants to know how he knows because his mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air, a pained expression on his face that Jack guesses is only partly due to the wound in his thigh.
"Just go," Jack says, shaking his head.
"And don't go near the village," he adds, remembering the priest's words in the temple. "I think Sani has people guarding the area."
The look on Teal'c's face is grave. "We will return for you, O'Neill."
"Not without some real firepower, you won't," Jack replies, ignoring the stab of rage that slashes across his nerves like a hot poker at his words.
Teal'c pulls Daniel away then, turning them both towards the passage, but Daniel swivels his head wildly, looking back over his shoulder. "Hold on, Jack."
"Oh, you know me, Daniel."
He gets a crooked smile at that.
And then he is alone.
He pulls himself to his feet; his limbs feel heavy and the room spins unpleasantly, but he manages to turn himself around, heading back the way he came.
Every step is a battle, sapping the little energy he has left, and he knows it will eventually run out.
It's a price he's willing to pay to buy them a little more time.
/
/
The smoke trailing up from the horizon had been the only discernible reference point she'd spotted since escaping the mine, and Sam had been jogging towards it now for about twenty minutes or so - she wasn't really sure. What she is sure of, is that she's definitely approaching the village; the sounds of laughter and music carrying on the steady breeze which had dropped a few degrees, and distinctly smelled of rain. The thought of it raining really doesn't bother her - she's tired and thirsty, and it may fix both of those things.
She slows, spotting the grassy hills she knows are to the north of the village, and keeps low, carefully clinging to their shadows as she makes her way across in the direction of the forest.
At what seems like a safe distance, she pauses, pressing herself against one of the hills to catch her breath, and the heavens finally decide to open up.
She sits up a little, cupping her hands to collect the rain, and swallows as much of the cool water as she can. She closes her eyes with relief, listening to the muffled shouts of the people mingling with the drone of the rain, and the low rumble of thunder.
A sudden crack of lightning surprises her though, and she throws her head back, her eyes following its path as it forks across the sky.
It's then that she sees him, standing on one of the ridges not far from her - his frame too slight to be anything more than a young boy.
And he's looking straight at her.
She pushes to her feet, slipping on the slick grass, and bolts for the forest now just a short distance away.
The shouts ring out behind her; at first the high pitched yelling of the boy as he runs back into the village to raise the alarm, and then the calls of the men just before she hits the tree line.
She runs hard. Harder than she's ever run in her life, and although her eyes have adjusted to the dark since leaving the mines, the forest is darker still.
Her shoulder crashes into a tree, and she spins to one side, stumbling before regaining her feet and pushing on in the direction she's sure will lead her to the old trail. Lightning flashes, momentarily illuminating her surroundings, and she uses it to fix her eyes on a point ahead of her as she's plunged into darkness again.
She keeps up her pace, breathing heavily now as she scrambles up a slope practically on all fours, slithering precariously as the sodden leaves give way beneath her. Slim branches grab and slash at her clothes as she propels herself forward, and she narrowly avoids smacking face-first into a branch revealed by another flash of lightning.
It also reveals the old path she's been looking for, and she digs in deeper as she reaches it, adrenaline forcing her up the trail as fast as she can go.
Somewhere behind her, buried underneath the cacophony of rain on the tree canopy and the rolling of thunder, she can still hear the shouts of the men, and the unnatural snap of branches as they enter the forest in pursuit.
She ignores it, along with the hammering of her heart in her ears and the taste of copper filling her mouth, because the only way she's making it to that gate is by focusing on what's right in front of her.
Minutes go by, and the yelling recedes, replaced by the steady thud of her boots on the soft earth as she finds her rhythm, her muscles burning.
She runs, and it feels like forever.
Several more minutes go by, and she's so incredibly glad that she'd kept up her military fitness regime, but she finds herself tiring; knows that she'll need to stop for a breather eventually.
She's not done just yet, though.
She ploughs on, allowing herself to slow only a little to conserve some energy. The rain lightens somewhat, and the flashes of lightning come less often, but she is soaked through. Tiny rivulets of water run into her eyes and trickle down her spine, and she blinks furiously, wiping her sleeve across her face.
She trips and falls, banging a knee into a rock or a root, and hisses in pain. It radiates through her leg, and she gives herself a moment to breathe through it before pushing back onto her feet and continuing.
The forest seems to settle, growing quieter until all Sam can hear is the soft drum of the rain and her own footsteps - the main part of the storm apparently having passed. She doesn't allow herself to think that she may have lost them though, swiftly silencing the part of her that's begging for relief, because they know exactly where she's heading, and she has no idea if there's a faster way to get there.
There's a noise to her left like something breaking, reverberating off of the trees, and she pauses, staring into the darkness of the forest.
She sees it - far off still, but definitely moving - first one, and then two flecks of pale orange light.
The orange lights flicker and bob, and she realises they must have something like oil torches to be able to burn them in this persistent rain.
Having light to move by would be a distinct advantage, and she feels real panic then; slowly spreading through her chest, stifling her hopes of making it to the gate. She swallows, and sucks in a deep breath before shoving the feeling far down inside of her.
She takes off again - her legs protesting after the brief respite.
Another fiery torch appears in the periphery of her vision, and this time it's accompanied by a shout that is far too close for comfort. Sam quickly changes direction then, moving to her right off of the trail, and into some heavy vegetation. Keeping as low to the ground as she can, she slows, focusing instead on moving as silently as possible - her heart feeling like it was going to burst right out of her chest as she fights to quiet her breathing.
More lights appear from the direction of the village, some near, some far, and she knows her only option now is to hide and wait for the men to pass on their way to the Stargate.
She stops, and hunkers down at the base of a large tree surrounded by dense clumps, inching forward just until she has eyes on the torches. The closest ones appear to have reached the path she'd been on, and they group for a few seconds before spreading out again - quickly heading in the direction of the gate.
Relieved, she pulls back a little and allows herself to rest against the tree, closing her strained eyes for just a moment. Everything is beginning to hurt, and the bark feels hard against her back and shoulders. Underneath all the adrenaline, she can feel the exhaustion swelling in her body like a wave - just waiting to drown her.
She exhales a long breath and opens her eyes; only there's a tall shadow standing over her now.
The man yells, and lunges for her, but she instinctively shifts her weight back and to the side, allowing her enough space to deliver a solid kick to one leg, knocking it out from under him.
He crashes into the tree, narrowly missing falling on her, and she rolls away from him before springing to her feet, searching for her best escape route. Just ahead, she spots what looks like a small clearing in the trees and dashes forward.
Her foot meets nothing but air.
And she realises exactly where she is as she pitches forward, tumbling down the embankment of the stream that cuts through the forest and across the old trail.
She manages to twist a little as she falls, her arm and shoulder taking most of the initial impact, but her momentum keeps her rolling right into the stream.
Her stop is abrupt, and she hears it before she feels it; a dull crack vibrating through her skull, followed by a sharp pain radiating from her temple.
She lies still, not really sure if she can't move or if she doesn't want to anymore.
She is so very tired, and that wave of exhaustion finally washes over her - just like the cold water rising around her, immersing her, easing her hot, aching muscles.
It's almost soothing, she thinks.
Sam closes her eyes.
/
A/N: Sometimes, when I write a chapter, it ends up with a sound track. My favourite song for this particular chapter was the cover Never Fade Away, by P.T. Adamczyk and Olga Jankowska, from the Cyberpunk soundtrack.
As always, thank you so much all followers/favouriters/readers/reviewers!
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of the Stargate franchise. All other characters mentioned in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.