SGA Joint Writers Effort Chapter 3
SGA Joint Writers Effort Chapter 3
Author joaniexjony
Words: 1400
Warning, graphic violence
Disclaimer: I don't own SGA. If I did the boy's would be in my lounge every week!
SGA JOINT WRITING EFFORT, CHAPTER 3
John knew he was totally screwed, as his heart was racing and he could already feel the heat rising in his body. Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, his back, then suddenly, without warning an explosion of pain erupted all over his body.
White hot spikes of fire were burning through every muscle, setting every nerve ending on fire. He was groaning, shuddering with convulsions, reflectively jerking away, but from what…himself? There was no escape from the torment as each part of his body screamed, as on and on the rippling fire consumed him, relentless in its persecution, burning him alive.
Darkness wavered and he prayed for its relief, but what right did he have to pray? After all the lives he’d taken why should he receive mercy? His mother had taken him to church every Sunday, instilled good moral standards, taught him right from wrong, but since then…He missed her still, and thought of her often, but knowing deep down hell would be his likely destination, right next to Kolya.
Even as hysterical laughter left his lips, another spike of pain speared through him and bitter, tears of pain, frustration, fell streaming down his face. The pounding in his head grew louder as the walls came crowding in. He could barely see and couldn’t hear past the beating of his heart. John choked on a cry... please, please at least let his team be safe.
ooooOoooo
When he had passed out he didn’t know. Only the icy chills racking his body told him that it must have been some time ago as the burning heat of before was gone, leaving behind a lingering ache as evidence of the torture which went before.
Who knew Kolya had a brother? Certainly not him. Just when he thought he’d despatched the sadistic bastard who’d taken him to the limits of his endurance…along came another one. What kind of childhood had these guys suffered to make them become like this? His was no picnic that was for sure. A father who defined love as control. A man who had shunned his wilful son just because he refused to confirm to his rules, his ambitions and his plans for the future. John still mourned his father but not for the man he was, but for the relationship he could have had.
Part of him realised that perhaps he could have handled things better all those years ago. Except he was younger then, lacking in the wisdom he now possessed. However, he knew that regrets meant nothing when someone was dead, out of reach, unable to hear, unable to bridge the divide between what could have been and what was.
“Ah, Colonel Sheppard, I see you are finally awake.”
John realised he must have zoned out as he hadn’t even heard Karel come into the room.
“What do you want from me, Karel. Acastus is dead, and nothing you do to me will ever bring him back.”
“Is there something wrong with your hearing, Colonel?” Karel gave him a grim smile. “I’ve already told you, I want you dead. However I am in no rush, in fact it will interesting to find out how much you can endure before the end finally comes.”
“So, you’re a sadistic SOB like you’re brother then?” John glared into the dark malicious eyes boring into his.
“Why thank you, Colonel. I shall take that as a compliment. Nevertheless I do realise you didn’t intend it as one, and for that the next punishment will be doubled.”
Crap…John cursed his big mouth. Why couldn’t he for once just learn to keep quiet. Anxiety clouded him like a fog but he never took his eyes off Karel, not for a second. Showing his defiance, denying his fear, determined to prove that he might be beat, but he wasn’t beaten.
John saw Karel peel his eyes away to stare at someone entering the room. The footsteps were slight almost familiar somehow, in fact the closer they came his heart sank. He knew who they belonged to…Teyla.
Her face was bruised, her jacket torn and bloody, but it was the tears in her deep brown eyes which nearly tore him apart. “Teyla. I’m so sorry. I thought…I hoped you guy’s had got away, that I was alone here.”
Teyla could barely raise her eyes to his. “So am I, John, for what I must do.”
For the first time he noticed the whip in her shaking hand. It was made of one long thick piece of leather, attached to five strips, each piece laced with flat metal studs.
Rage, not for the pain he was about to endure, but for what Karel was forceing Teyla to do consumed him. “Leave her out of this. Beat me to hell if you like, but don’t make her do this.”
“You, Colonel are not in command here, I am, and if Miss Emmagan doesn’t wish Doctor McKay to become my associate’s main course tonight, she knows what she has to do.” He turned to Teyla. “Miss Teyla, give Colonel Sheppard ten strokes, and make them count. If I think for one second you are not giving each stroke the power it deserves…you know the consequences.”
His eyes searched for hers and held them fast. In their depths a message; do what you must, none of this is your fault, there is nothing to forgive.
John heard the first strike, the heavy whip making a whooshing sound before a wall of pain tore into his flesh, making him gasp, the sheer force pushing the air from his lungs. He was breathless as each agonising lash was more powerful than the last, overwhelming pain surrounding him like a fog. Screams wrenched from his throat as the punishment was relentless in his brutality, searing pain raging through him as the fiery bite of the whip ripped him apart, sending ripples of agony spearing though him, as blood flowed freely, warm and wet onto the floor beneath. His body quivered as the whip flayed into his skin again and again, tearing fresh wounds apart, mutilating his body as tears fell unhindered, down his face. Blurred vision, through eyes no longer able to focus, his body limp and useless held upright only by the bonds around his wrists, he waited…one more strike. Then it came, and every part of his body screamed against the torture, his body buckling against the final assault just as the world went black.
ooooOoooo
As strong arms removed John and placed him on the ground, the bloody whip fell from her hands and Teyla found herself shaking, only willpower stopping her falling trembling to her knees. Tears were threatening to engulf her, but Karel was watching and for John’s sake she must stay strong.
“Well done, Miss Emmagan. To be honest, I didn’t really think you had it in you…quite a surprise aren’t you? Anyway, as a reward you may tend to his wounds…but not his pain. I will arrange for supplies to be brought here directly.”
“What of my friend, Dr McKay. I trust you will keep to your side of the bargain?”
Karel was leaving, but turned on his heel to meet her glare. “Of, course. What do you think I am?”
Teyla already knew but the answer, but her response would not help John, or Rodney, so she let the temptation pass. Even as they were left blissfully alone, silent tears streamed down her face at the sight of John’s back. Once healthy and toned, it was now ravaged by deep ragged lacerations, caused by her hand against a man, her friend whom she loved like one of her own kin.
She prayed he wouldn’t stir as she bathed the wounds, knowing the process brought its own pain, its own brand of agony. Then hazel eyes filled with pain met hers. “Te…la?”
“I’m here, John…try to not to move. I will be as gentle as I can.”
“Gah…Not…ur…fa…lt” Fresh tears steamed down her face, as a groan left his lips, then his glazed eyes closed over.
Sob’s racked her body as she mopped the blood from his wounds. There was so much of it…on the ground, his broken body…her hands. John was a strong man, as a member of his team, she knew that better than anyone, but even he couldn’t take much more of this. If only Ronon would come soon, she hadn’t seen him here so surely, hopefully he must be free? Teyla prayed it was so before it was too late…
TBC
Okay, so it’s on to someone else now. Hope you have as much fun as I did!