Round 1 // Challenge 10 - Entries
Shows: Stargate SG1
Story Title: Sound
Character/Relationships: Jonas Quinn, Dr. MacKenzie
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: It's not a happy flashback, mentions of canon character death.
When Jonas arrived on Earth, he immersed himself in Daniel Jackson's office, reading his notes, examining his artifacts, learning about the man he only knew a short while.
He felt a tremendous amount of respect for Dr. Jackson, as well as sadness for his passing, and guilt for the manner in which it had happened. He tried not to dwell on it, but then a month passed, and he didn't have a choice.
"What happened last week?" Dr. MacKenzie asked.
"A low-pressure system was making its way across the Midwest, pretty much drenching the --" MacKenzie held up his hand.
"Not in the weather, Mr. Quinn," he said.
"Oh," Jonas looked down at his hands."I was walking around the base -- that's really all I can do, you guys won't let me go anywhere else -- did you know there's a firing range here?"
"I do," MacKenzie answered. "It's a large mountain."
"Yeah, so I was walking with Major Carter, and I guess we were coming up on the range, because I could hear it. Those large weapons of yours, the ... P90s?" MacKenzie nodded, and Jonas continued. "They make an impressive sound. It's really something else." Jonas stopped talking. A smile danced briefly on his lips before wavering away. "But then someone was using one of your smaller handguns..."
"The beretta."
"That one," Jonas said. "Yeah. I don't ... I don't know what happened."
MacKenzie consulted his notes and looked at Jonas over the rims of his glasses. "Major Carter says you stopped and flung yourself against the wall before sinking to the ground, visibly shaken and unable to speak for several minutes."
"Oh. Yes, that happened."
"I see," MacKenzie said.
The two lapsed into silence, the only sounds coming from the clock ticking on the wall.
"When the alarms started going off back on Kelowna," Jonas finally said, "I got this feeling. This overwhelming sense of dread. One of my friends went running from the room, the others dropped like flies and I couldn't do anything. Have you ever been in a situation where you knew -- or, you thought you knew -- you were going to die? And so was everyone and everything else around you? It is suffocating.
And through all that, there was Dr. Jackson. He pulled out his weapon, the ... beretta?"
MacKenzie nodded at the term.
"Anyway, he pulled it out and fired at the glass window. It was 15 shots -- I can hear them, plain as day -- and with each one I could feel my heart beating faster and harder and like it could stop at any second."
Jonas stopped. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his face, as if trying to scrub away the memory.
"It's going to sound crazy, but when I heard those shots again the other day, it was like reliving not only that moment but the next day as well. Watching my friends die. Knowing that Dr. Jackson suffered the same fate. Being muzzled by a government that only wanted to destroy human life under the guise of security. It was too much."
MacKenzie leaned forward and looked at Jonas with a compassion that betrayed the base's general view of the man as "head-shrinking quack."
"Jonas, what you experienced was a flashback triggered by what you heard," he said. "It's not a terribly unusual occurrence for someone who's been through a traumatic event, and you are most definitely not 'crazy.'"
"Will it always be like that?" Jonas asked.
"No," MacKenzie said. "I can help you."
Story Title: Mind’s Eye
Word Count 993
Character/Relationships: Samantha Carter, Jack O’Neill
Rating: (PG, PG-13, R, NC-17) PG-13
Warnings: Season Seven spoilers
The black SUV skidded to a stop amid the police units parked outside the Colorado Springs bank. Jack O’Neill and Teal’c exited, quickly locating the police commander.
“Colonel, glad you’re here. I have the manager on the phone. The robber entered the bank forty minutes ago. The security guard attempted to stop him and was shot. The manager recognized Major Carter; he said she grabbed the guard’s gun and shot the robber. He reported she then ran to the window, yelling about warriors, and pointed the gun toward the STR’s. She told them they were in danger, and herded them into his office, blocking them in.”
“Can I talk to the manager?”
The officer nodded, handing the phone to O’Neill. O’Neill asked, “Describe the robber.” He listened, sighed, then handed the phone back.
“I believe the major’s having a flashback. She’s been through a lot these past few weeks, including some serious injuries and the death of her best friend and colleague. Commander, tell your men to stand down, I’ll get her out of there.”
“Colonel, with all due respect, you don’t have any jurisdiction here. The people in that bank are my responsibility.”
“And the major is mine; don’t make me invoke national security concerns, commander.”
The commander walked away, and O’Neill turned to Teal’c, “The manager said the robber was dressed in black leather. With the Special Tactical Response team dressed in black; Sam must think they are all Kull warriors.”
Teal’c’s eyebrow rose, “Then we must rescue her, again, O’Neill.”
++++++
Sam drove to the bank after dropping Cassandra at school. She requested the day off primarily to be home when Cassie returned. Returning home after a tragic loss was an emotional experience; Sam knew that from first hand experience.
She crossed the lobby to the safety deposit vault, retrieving her box, and sat down at the small table. She stared at the small wooden box that held jewelry and other small items that Janet left for Cassandra. The teenager was not ready to deal with the memories of her adopted mother’s most prized possessions. Cassie had requested Sam keep them for now.
Sam reflected on the arduous past few weeks. She had suffered a serious concussion on the Prometheus, almost died on Jonas’ planet, then nearly killed by a Kull warrior. Not to mention dating Pete Shanahan, her brother’s friend. Then she thought she had lost Jack, but it was Janet that died. Pain gripped her chest as she felt the panic she had suppressed for days, consume her. She forced the panic back, and opened the wooden box. A loud boom from outside the tiny room startled her, a gunshot.
“Everybody to the floor, now; I’ll kill anyone who refuses.” The voice was rough.
Sam slipped into the hallway leading to the secured teller cage. As she was straining to see the robber, a security guard rushed through an office door.
“Drop your weapon,” the guard shouted. The robber pivoted, shooting the guard in the chest. The guard fell, his gun dropping next to him.
Sam heard the robber’s footsteps approaching. He was tall, slender but muscular, wearing black leather pants and jacket, a black mask, and a shiny black motorcycle helmet. Adrenaline surged through Sam, competing with the rising panic flooding her body. For an instant, she saw the robber, then all she could see was the rough terrain of the alpha planet and a Kull warrior. Reality eluded her; the wall became a tree. Her only thought was that the Kull would kill them all.
Sam’s heart was racing, she had to get the guard’s weapon. She eased around the imagined tree, grabbing the gun. As she straightened up, the robber spotted her. She spun, firing two rounds, impacting the man. In her mind’s eye, he fell to the rocky ground. She raced toward him, to verify he was dead. However, she halted when she saw more Kull warriors approaching.
She screamed, “Don’t come any closer. I’ve killed one of you; I’ll kill you all.”
She turned to the people with her, “You aren’t safe; you need to hide.” Her darting eyes settled on the office door the guard had emerged from.
She waved the gun, “In there, all of you, in there.” She motioned to the tellers, still inside the teller cage, “It isn’t safe, go with them.”
Within minutes, Sam had them cloistered in the office, a chair propped against the door so they couldn’t escape. She turned to see the Kull warriors still moving toward her.
++++++
O’Neill and Teal’c eased toward the bank’s front door, after persuading the commander to pull the STR’s back. Jack peered around the doorframe; he spotted Sam flattened against a wall behind a potted tree.
He whispered to Teal’c, “Sam’s against the far wall. She looks confused, cornered. I’m gonna knock on the door; maybe, she’ll let us in.”
Stepping in front of the door, O’Neill tapped on the glass. Sam’s head jerked around as she raised her weapon. “Don’t fire, Sam; it’s me, Jack. Teal’c’s with me, let us in.” She ran toward the door, slamming into the glass. She stumbled back, stunned.
“Sam, you have to unlock the door.”
Confusion crossed her face, then she reached for the lock, turning it. O’Neill pulled the door open and entered the bank; Teal’c followed.
Sam backed up, panic filling her eyes. “They’re here, colonel. The Kull; they’re going to kill everyone. I saw them, there’re dozens of them coming for us.”
“No, they aren’t; the Kull aren’t here, you’re confused and exhausted.”
Teal’c checked the bodies, shaking his head at O’Neill.
“Is he dead?” Sam asked shakily.
“Yes, he is.”
“Sam, it’s OK, it’s over. Let’s go to the SGC, get you checked out, then I’ll take you home.”
Sam sank to the floor, “I just need to rest for a minute.”
“Come here,” Jack put his arm around her, “Rest.”
Sam leaned against him, whispering, “Home.”
Shows: Stargate SG-1
Story Title: Total Recall
Character/Relationships: Daniel, Sam
Rating: (PG-13)
Warnings: None
It was getting harder and harder to distinguish between reality and his memories. They melded together from one second to the next, leaving him panting as he fought against the waves of nausea that accompanied the dizzying flashes of scenes real and imagined.
He wanted it all to stop.
"Daniel?"
He turned his head to the side, unwilling to move too much for fear of throwing up. "Yeah?"
"Are you with me again?" Sam's voice seemed hesitant, almost fearful. Daniel nodded, all the while wondering when the next "episode" would happen. He leaned back, grateful that the nausea was fading away.
"I hate this Sam," he said, voicing his thoughts without really thinking about them.
"I know," Sam said quietly. They sat for a moment, back to back with only the bars of the cell between them. Their captors had chosen Daniel as their victim, but it was a matter of time before they tired of his anguish and moved on to Sam.
"Why are they doing this," he asked.
"I don't know," Sam said. "It doesn't make sense."
"The human mind is a fascinating thing."
Daniel nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of that voice. Oh God, he thought with rising panic. Not again. He turned toward the door of his cell, fighting off another wave of memories, knowing that it was a useless effort. The very real and vivid memory of a needle plunging into his arm had him shuddering with fear.
"What's this all about," Sam was saying when Daniel finally found himself in the here and now. "Why are you doing this to him?"
The man smiled at her, then walked over to her door as he spoke. "I've been researching the brain patterns of various species for many years." He held up a small vial to show them his methods. "Humans are by far the most fascinating."
"You're experimenting on humans?" Sam asked. "What's in that?"
"It's a drug that magnifies the intensity of episodic memory." He waved a hand in Daniel's direction. "The patient relives each memory as if it were happening at this very moment in time."
Daniel groaned at the reminder. He knew all too well what that meant. So far he had relived the death of his wife, his tenth birthday party, and the time he spent in Sokar's prison. Each emotion felt so real to him, especially the pain and anguish.
"But why?" Sam wanted to know. "What do you hope to gain?"
"My work will have great impact on our society. The people of this world will benefit in that we will finally be able to control mind over matter." He smiled at the thought, while Daniel secretly believed the man was a nutcase. "Now that I have alien subjects, my work will be renowned worldwide.
"We're humans just as you are," Sam said, still trying to reason with him. "You won't gain much from us."
"Oh I will," the man said, his eyes lighting up. "You came here with two others, one of them a Jaffa." He walked back over to Daniel's cell, "That one will be the key to a breakthrough in my research. Tell me where to find him."
Daniel stared at the man, while the memory of SG-1's arrival on this planet flashed through his mind. He couldn't stop it and was extremely grateful that the man couldn't see the memory as Daniel saw it.
"Daniel?" Jack said with impatience. "There's nothing here. We're heading back."
"Let's give it another few minutes," Daniel insisted. "I'm sure that was a Unas we saw through the MALP." Jack shook his head, but Daniel needed to make sure. "Two minutes."
"One more look, Daniel. That's all. Carter, go with him."
"Daniel," Sam shouted. "Fight it, Daniel. Please."
Daniel was confused. Fight what? He turned to where Sam was standing only to see the bars of his cell with the mad scientist standing on the other side, grinning at him with what can only be described as evil intent.
"Tell me where I can find the Jaffa and there will be no more injections." Daniel glared at the man, knowing deep down that he would never give in, no matter how much he wanted to.
"Where is the Jaffa?"
Daniel kept his silence, then pulled back as far as the bars would let him when the man held up a needle. No, he thought as he shook his head.
"Where is he?"
Silence. Daniel didn't even look at Sam. He knew as well as she did that neither one would volunteer the information. He was going to have to go through another treatment. A guard stepped out from the shadows behind the stranger, his weapon trained on Daniel as the door of the cell opened.
"Tell me," the man said when he stooped down to Daniel's level. Daniel couldn't take his eyes off of the syringe. The man grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up. "Where is the Jaffa?"
Daniel didn't answer and winced when the needle pierced his skin. He had no choice, he thought, as he stared into the gaze of the madman.
"Happy thoughts," Sam said, trying to be helpful. He tried, and even succeeded when he remembered the day he got his first bike. But the memory turned dark. His parents were no longer there. Angry tears spilled from his eyes as he stood next to Nick in the rain. They had no right to leave him.
"Daniel," Jack said, shaking him out of the memory. "Come on. We need to get you out of here."
"Jack?"
"Yeah. Let's go."
Daniel nodded, grabbed Jack's hand, then saw Teal'c standing over the unconscious guard. Fear for his friend and excitement at the thought of rescue raced through, mixed in with flashes of other rescues. Nausea threatened again, but Daniel ignored it.
"What took you so long?"
"Come on, Daniel," Jack said with a grin. "Let's get out of here."
Shows/Movie: Stargate: Continuum
Story Title: That’s How the Ba’al Bounces
Character/Relationships: General Jack O’Neill, S-9 & -10 version of SG-1, Ba’al / Hint of Sam/Jack if you squint
Rating: PG-13
Warnings Spoilers for Stargate: Continuum, description (though not terribly graphic) of Ba’al’s torture of Jack O’Neill in the SG-1 episode “Abyss”, one bad word
Desert Camouflage BDU laundered - $25
USAF Flight from DC to Colorado Springs - approximately $17,000 of the tax payers’ hard-earned money
Turning on the lights at the SGC and firing up the old orifice - Billions, according to General Hammond
Attending the ceremony where the last Ba’al bounces - priceless!
I stand there while the Tok’Ra chorus drones on and on. The first hour I shift from one foot to the other, reminiscing about the ‘bad old days’ of standing watch. The second hour, I zone out for a while and contemplate the upcoming hockey season. Carter to my left remains fairly still, probably running equations in her head to keep that fabulous brain occupied. Beyond her, Mitchell reminds me of, well, me…antsy; I think he dozes off at least once. Of course, no one can play statue like T; he hasn’t twitched even a jaw muscle in at least ten minutes.
The flashback catches me by surprise somewhere between hockey and trying to remember when “The Simpsons” comes back from hiatus.
Ba’al. The chamber. The knives. The poison.
Magnets. Always with the magnets. I am pinned to that wall somehow. It must be magnets. Carter would figure it out if she could study it. Never gonna happen now.
Ba’al lets go of one droplet of poison from the eyedropper, free to fly at me and worm its way into my system to wreak havoc with one or more organs. Where will it land this time? My chest, where the knives have done their business countless times before? My knees, which hurt quite enough on their own, thank you very much? My face? I have no illusions of being the handsomest man on the planet, but I have grown pretty attached to the face in the mirror.
And the knives… How many in my body will it take before I die *this* time?
Seemingly endless cycles of a small repertoire of torture coupled with revival in a sarcophagus.
And how many times have they done that already? I lose count long before it ends.
And for what? A snake to find his girlfriend? And it’s my fault he suddenly gets a conscience?
I shake my head as I come back to the present. I think Carter loses her place in her calculations when I jerk out of it. Or does she just look that way because she bumps me accidentally on purpose to bring me back? Hard to tell.
As the medieval monk imitation continues and my eyes droop again, the experience at Palais du Ba’al tries to revisit. I tamp it down. I recount in my head all the Goa’uld we have taken out over the years - Cronus, Apophis, Nirrti and Hathor, just to name a few. And I remind myself this is *it*. If these Tok’Ra ever get around to it, that is.
On the other side of T stands Daniel, who at least knows the plot. And then Vala Mal Doran - the expressions crossing her face range from a furrowed brow to a smug grin to a… Her yawn triggers mine. As I yawn, I turn to Carter, who has to listen because I outrank her.
“Never, in the history of boredom has anyone been more bored than I am, right now.” She smiles, which is, of course, my raison d’être.
“C’mon, Sir. It’s only been…” Carter checks her watch and concludes, “Ooh.” She sighs, too.
“Don’t worry,” Daniel cajoles. “Crimes they’re listing are starting to sound familiar.”
“Crimes? That’s what they’ve been crooning about for three hours?”
“Quite a ditty, ain’t it?” says Mitchell with a frown.
As Daniel responds to Vala’s comment about fairness to the host, because, well, Daniel just can’t seem to let stuff like that go, I silently wonder if the Tok’Ra include my captivity and torture in their litany. If so, and if Daniel’s right that the conclusion nears, it could be right…now.
A quick picture pops into my head again - of Ba’al reveling as I succumb once more to his ministrations - but disappears as I assert control.
“Revive the prisoner.”
Finally! Let’s get this show on the road! I turn back to the ceremony with renewed enthusiasm as Ba’al comes back to consciousness. Smarmy bastard. I look forward to having the last laugh.
I hear Vala say something to Daniel about Ba’al possibly making a run for it and Daniel reassure her about security. I agree with Daniel, but I like Vala’s attitude. I will not hesitate to swipe Carter’s P-90 if he tries.
When this is over, I think I’ll take the kids out for lunch. And cake. We’ll have a ball.
Show/Movie: Stargate SG-1
Story Title: The Here and the Now
Character/Relationships: Jack O'Neill, Other
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Memories of torture and other bad things.
He woke in a cold sweat again. I rolled over, but he put a hand on my shoulder and muttered something about going back to sleep. I watched as he pushed back the blankets and walked to the bathroom. He turned on the light and stood at the sink, letting the water run before he cupped one hand and splashed it to his face. I would ask if he was alright, but I knew what he would say. "Fine." "Stop worrying." "Go back to bed." So I rested against the pillows and waited for him to come back.
Even if he didn't tell me what sent him from our bed gasping in the middle of the night, I could figure it out easily enough. I may not know which nightmare in particular it was, but I knew the Greatest Hits. His time in Iraq was a frequent player, his mind going back to the torture he endured by the enemy. But sadly, that probably wasn't his worst torture. I knew that his time in Ba'al's prison was the worst thing he'd ever experienced. I knew because he'd actually tried to talk about that with me, but he failed. The pain in his eyes, the way he looked at me when he told the story, I knew there was a lot he'd never be able to say aloud. But I would be there with him through the silences.
As if his own wars and tribulations weren't enough, he also had to deal with the leftover memories of Kanan. The bastard Tok'ra who hijacked his body to save a woman. There was a chance that Jack would have still gone if the Tok'ra had been straight with him, but the way he'd gone about it was unforgivable.
The bathroom light switched off and he trudged back to bed. He crawled under the covers and I touched his shoulder.
"I thought I told you to go back to sleep."
I ignored him. "Are you okay?"
He kissed me, and I stroked the back of his head with my fingers. When he pulled back, he said, "Just another flashback."
"Want to talk about it?"
He shook his head, as I knew he would. He pulled me closer, and I smiled in the darkness as I kissed him again. I couldn't be a sounding board, and I couldn't do anything to ease his pain. But I could keep his mind concretely in the here and now. It might not help heal his scars, but it would definitely remind him that there was good in his life, too. For tonight, it would be enough.
Story Title: Sound
Character/Relationships: Jonas Quinn, Dr. MacKenzie
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: It's not a happy flashback, mentions of canon character death.
When Jonas arrived on Earth, he immersed himself in Daniel Jackson's office, reading his notes, examining his artifacts, learning about the man he only knew a short while.
He felt a tremendous amount of respect for Dr. Jackson, as well as sadness for his passing, and guilt for the manner in which it had happened. He tried not to dwell on it, but then a month passed, and he didn't have a choice.
"What happened last week?" Dr. MacKenzie asked.
"A low-pressure system was making its way across the Midwest, pretty much drenching the --" MacKenzie held up his hand.
"Not in the weather, Mr. Quinn," he said.
"Oh," Jonas looked down at his hands."I was walking around the base -- that's really all I can do, you guys won't let me go anywhere else -- did you know there's a firing range here?"
"I do," MacKenzie answered. "It's a large mountain."
"Yeah, so I was walking with Major Carter, and I guess we were coming up on the range, because I could hear it. Those large weapons of yours, the ... P90s?" MacKenzie nodded, and Jonas continued. "They make an impressive sound. It's really something else." Jonas stopped talking. A smile danced briefly on his lips before wavering away. "But then someone was using one of your smaller handguns..."
"The beretta."
"That one," Jonas said. "Yeah. I don't ... I don't know what happened."
MacKenzie consulted his notes and looked at Jonas over the rims of his glasses. "Major Carter says you stopped and flung yourself against the wall before sinking to the ground, visibly shaken and unable to speak for several minutes."
"Oh. Yes, that happened."
"I see," MacKenzie said.
The two lapsed into silence, the only sounds coming from the clock ticking on the wall.
"When the alarms started going off back on Kelowna," Jonas finally said, "I got this feeling. This overwhelming sense of dread. One of my friends went running from the room, the others dropped like flies and I couldn't do anything. Have you ever been in a situation where you knew -- or, you thought you knew -- you were going to die? And so was everyone and everything else around you? It is suffocating.
And through all that, there was Dr. Jackson. He pulled out his weapon, the ... beretta?"
MacKenzie nodded at the term.
"Anyway, he pulled it out and fired at the glass window. It was 15 shots -- I can hear them, plain as day -- and with each one I could feel my heart beating faster and harder and like it could stop at any second."
Jonas stopped. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his face, as if trying to scrub away the memory.
"It's going to sound crazy, but when I heard those shots again the other day, it was like reliving not only that moment but the next day as well. Watching my friends die. Knowing that Dr. Jackson suffered the same fate. Being muzzled by a government that only wanted to destroy human life under the guise of security. It was too much."
MacKenzie leaned forward and looked at Jonas with a compassion that betrayed the base's general view of the man as "head-shrinking quack."
"Jonas, what you experienced was a flashback triggered by what you heard," he said. "It's not a terribly unusual occurrence for someone who's been through a traumatic event, and you are most definitely not 'crazy.'"
"Will it always be like that?" Jonas asked.
"No," MacKenzie said. "I can help you."
Story Title: Mind’s Eye
Word Count 993
Character/Relationships: Samantha Carter, Jack O’Neill
Rating: (PG, PG-13, R, NC-17) PG-13
Warnings: Season Seven spoilers
The black SUV skidded to a stop amid the police units parked outside the Colorado Springs bank. Jack O’Neill and Teal’c exited, quickly locating the police commander.
“Colonel, glad you’re here. I have the manager on the phone. The robber entered the bank forty minutes ago. The security guard attempted to stop him and was shot. The manager recognized Major Carter; he said she grabbed the guard’s gun and shot the robber. He reported she then ran to the window, yelling about warriors, and pointed the gun toward the STR’s. She told them they were in danger, and herded them into his office, blocking them in.”
“Can I talk to the manager?”
The officer nodded, handing the phone to O’Neill. O’Neill asked, “Describe the robber.” He listened, sighed, then handed the phone back.
“I believe the major’s having a flashback. She’s been through a lot these past few weeks, including some serious injuries and the death of her best friend and colleague. Commander, tell your men to stand down, I’ll get her out of there.”
“Colonel, with all due respect, you don’t have any jurisdiction here. The people in that bank are my responsibility.”
“And the major is mine; don’t make me invoke national security concerns, commander.”
The commander walked away, and O’Neill turned to Teal’c, “The manager said the robber was dressed in black leather. With the Special Tactical Response team dressed in black; Sam must think they are all Kull warriors.”
Teal’c’s eyebrow rose, “Then we must rescue her, again, O’Neill.”
++++++
Sam drove to the bank after dropping Cassandra at school. She requested the day off primarily to be home when Cassie returned. Returning home after a tragic loss was an emotional experience; Sam knew that from first hand experience.
She crossed the lobby to the safety deposit vault, retrieving her box, and sat down at the small table. She stared at the small wooden box that held jewelry and other small items that Janet left for Cassandra. The teenager was not ready to deal with the memories of her adopted mother’s most prized possessions. Cassie had requested Sam keep them for now.
Sam reflected on the arduous past few weeks. She had suffered a serious concussion on the Prometheus, almost died on Jonas’ planet, then nearly killed by a Kull warrior. Not to mention dating Pete Shanahan, her brother’s friend. Then she thought she had lost Jack, but it was Janet that died. Pain gripped her chest as she felt the panic she had suppressed for days, consume her. She forced the panic back, and opened the wooden box. A loud boom from outside the tiny room startled her, a gunshot.
“Everybody to the floor, now; I’ll kill anyone who refuses.” The voice was rough.
Sam slipped into the hallway leading to the secured teller cage. As she was straining to see the robber, a security guard rushed through an office door.
“Drop your weapon,” the guard shouted. The robber pivoted, shooting the guard in the chest. The guard fell, his gun dropping next to him.
Sam heard the robber’s footsteps approaching. He was tall, slender but muscular, wearing black leather pants and jacket, a black mask, and a shiny black motorcycle helmet. Adrenaline surged through Sam, competing with the rising panic flooding her body. For an instant, she saw the robber, then all she could see was the rough terrain of the alpha planet and a Kull warrior. Reality eluded her; the wall became a tree. Her only thought was that the Kull would kill them all.
Sam’s heart was racing, she had to get the guard’s weapon. She eased around the imagined tree, grabbing the gun. As she straightened up, the robber spotted her. She spun, firing two rounds, impacting the man. In her mind’s eye, he fell to the rocky ground. She raced toward him, to verify he was dead. However, she halted when she saw more Kull warriors approaching.
She screamed, “Don’t come any closer. I’ve killed one of you; I’ll kill you all.”
She turned to the people with her, “You aren’t safe; you need to hide.” Her darting eyes settled on the office door the guard had emerged from.
She waved the gun, “In there, all of you, in there.” She motioned to the tellers, still inside the teller cage, “It isn’t safe, go with them.”
Within minutes, Sam had them cloistered in the office, a chair propped against the door so they couldn’t escape. She turned to see the Kull warriors still moving toward her.
++++++
O’Neill and Teal’c eased toward the bank’s front door, after persuading the commander to pull the STR’s back. Jack peered around the doorframe; he spotted Sam flattened against a wall behind a potted tree.
He whispered to Teal’c, “Sam’s against the far wall. She looks confused, cornered. I’m gonna knock on the door; maybe, she’ll let us in.”
Stepping in front of the door, O’Neill tapped on the glass. Sam’s head jerked around as she raised her weapon. “Don’t fire, Sam; it’s me, Jack. Teal’c’s with me, let us in.” She ran toward the door, slamming into the glass. She stumbled back, stunned.
“Sam, you have to unlock the door.”
Confusion crossed her face, then she reached for the lock, turning it. O’Neill pulled the door open and entered the bank; Teal’c followed.
Sam backed up, panic filling her eyes. “They’re here, colonel. The Kull; they’re going to kill everyone. I saw them, there’re dozens of them coming for us.”
“No, they aren’t; the Kull aren’t here, you’re confused and exhausted.”
Teal’c checked the bodies, shaking his head at O’Neill.
“Is he dead?” Sam asked shakily.
“Yes, he is.”
“Sam, it’s OK, it’s over. Let’s go to the SGC, get you checked out, then I’ll take you home.”
Sam sank to the floor, “I just need to rest for a minute.”
“Come here,” Jack put his arm around her, “Rest.”
Sam leaned against him, whispering, “Home.”
Shows: Stargate SG-1
Story Title: Total Recall
Character/Relationships: Daniel, Sam
Rating: (PG-13)
Warnings: None
It was getting harder and harder to distinguish between reality and his memories. They melded together from one second to the next, leaving him panting as he fought against the waves of nausea that accompanied the dizzying flashes of scenes real and imagined.
He wanted it all to stop.
"Daniel?"
He turned his head to the side, unwilling to move too much for fear of throwing up. "Yeah?"
"Are you with me again?" Sam's voice seemed hesitant, almost fearful. Daniel nodded, all the while wondering when the next "episode" would happen. He leaned back, grateful that the nausea was fading away.
"I hate this Sam," he said, voicing his thoughts without really thinking about them.
"I know," Sam said quietly. They sat for a moment, back to back with only the bars of the cell between them. Their captors had chosen Daniel as their victim, but it was a matter of time before they tired of his anguish and moved on to Sam.
"Why are they doing this," he asked.
"I don't know," Sam said. "It doesn't make sense."
"The human mind is a fascinating thing."
Daniel nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of that voice. Oh God, he thought with rising panic. Not again. He turned toward the door of his cell, fighting off another wave of memories, knowing that it was a useless effort. The very real and vivid memory of a needle plunging into his arm had him shuddering with fear.
"What's this all about," Sam was saying when Daniel finally found himself in the here and now. "Why are you doing this to him?"
The man smiled at her, then walked over to her door as he spoke. "I've been researching the brain patterns of various species for many years." He held up a small vial to show them his methods. "Humans are by far the most fascinating."
"You're experimenting on humans?" Sam asked. "What's in that?"
"It's a drug that magnifies the intensity of episodic memory." He waved a hand in Daniel's direction. "The patient relives each memory as if it were happening at this very moment in time."
Daniel groaned at the reminder. He knew all too well what that meant. So far he had relived the death of his wife, his tenth birthday party, and the time he spent in Sokar's prison. Each emotion felt so real to him, especially the pain and anguish.
"But why?" Sam wanted to know. "What do you hope to gain?"
"My work will have great impact on our society. The people of this world will benefit in that we will finally be able to control mind over matter." He smiled at the thought, while Daniel secretly believed the man was a nutcase. "Now that I have alien subjects, my work will be renowned worldwide.
"We're humans just as you are," Sam said, still trying to reason with him. "You won't gain much from us."
"Oh I will," the man said, his eyes lighting up. "You came here with two others, one of them a Jaffa." He walked back over to Daniel's cell, "That one will be the key to a breakthrough in my research. Tell me where to find him."
Daniel stared at the man, while the memory of SG-1's arrival on this planet flashed through his mind. He couldn't stop it and was extremely grateful that the man couldn't see the memory as Daniel saw it.
"Daniel?" Jack said with impatience. "There's nothing here. We're heading back."
"Let's give it another few minutes," Daniel insisted. "I'm sure that was a Unas we saw through the MALP." Jack shook his head, but Daniel needed to make sure. "Two minutes."
"One more look, Daniel. That's all. Carter, go with him."
"Daniel," Sam shouted. "Fight it, Daniel. Please."
Daniel was confused. Fight what? He turned to where Sam was standing only to see the bars of his cell with the mad scientist standing on the other side, grinning at him with what can only be described as evil intent.
"Tell me where I can find the Jaffa and there will be no more injections." Daniel glared at the man, knowing deep down that he would never give in, no matter how much he wanted to.
"Where is the Jaffa?"
Daniel kept his silence, then pulled back as far as the bars would let him when the man held up a needle. No, he thought as he shook his head.
"Where is he?"
Silence. Daniel didn't even look at Sam. He knew as well as she did that neither one would volunteer the information. He was going to have to go through another treatment. A guard stepped out from the shadows behind the stranger, his weapon trained on Daniel as the door of the cell opened.
"Tell me," the man said when he stooped down to Daniel's level. Daniel couldn't take his eyes off of the syringe. The man grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up. "Where is the Jaffa?"
Daniel didn't answer and winced when the needle pierced his skin. He had no choice, he thought, as he stared into the gaze of the madman.
"Happy thoughts," Sam said, trying to be helpful. He tried, and even succeeded when he remembered the day he got his first bike. But the memory turned dark. His parents were no longer there. Angry tears spilled from his eyes as he stood next to Nick in the rain. They had no right to leave him.
"Daniel," Jack said, shaking him out of the memory. "Come on. We need to get you out of here."
"Jack?"
"Yeah. Let's go."
Daniel nodded, grabbed Jack's hand, then saw Teal'c standing over the unconscious guard. Fear for his friend and excitement at the thought of rescue raced through, mixed in with flashes of other rescues. Nausea threatened again, but Daniel ignored it.
"What took you so long?"
"Come on, Daniel," Jack said with a grin. "Let's get out of here."
Shows/Movie: Stargate: Continuum
Story Title: That’s How the Ba’al Bounces
Character/Relationships: General Jack O’Neill, S-9 & -10 version of SG-1, Ba’al / Hint of Sam/Jack if you squint
Rating: PG-13
Warnings Spoilers for Stargate: Continuum, description (though not terribly graphic) of Ba’al’s torture of Jack O’Neill in the SG-1 episode “Abyss”, one bad word
Desert Camouflage BDU laundered - $25
USAF Flight from DC to Colorado Springs - approximately $17,000 of the tax payers’ hard-earned money
Turning on the lights at the SGC and firing up the old orifice - Billions, according to General Hammond
Attending the ceremony where the last Ba’al bounces - priceless!
I stand there while the Tok’Ra chorus drones on and on. The first hour I shift from one foot to the other, reminiscing about the ‘bad old days’ of standing watch. The second hour, I zone out for a while and contemplate the upcoming hockey season. Carter to my left remains fairly still, probably running equations in her head to keep that fabulous brain occupied. Beyond her, Mitchell reminds me of, well, me…antsy; I think he dozes off at least once. Of course, no one can play statue like T; he hasn’t twitched even a jaw muscle in at least ten minutes.
The flashback catches me by surprise somewhere between hockey and trying to remember when “The Simpsons” comes back from hiatus.
Ba’al. The chamber. The knives. The poison.
Magnets. Always with the magnets. I am pinned to that wall somehow. It must be magnets. Carter would figure it out if she could study it. Never gonna happen now.
Ba’al lets go of one droplet of poison from the eyedropper, free to fly at me and worm its way into my system to wreak havoc with one or more organs. Where will it land this time? My chest, where the knives have done their business countless times before? My knees, which hurt quite enough on their own, thank you very much? My face? I have no illusions of being the handsomest man on the planet, but I have grown pretty attached to the face in the mirror.
And the knives… How many in my body will it take before I die *this* time?
Seemingly endless cycles of a small repertoire of torture coupled with revival in a sarcophagus.
And how many times have they done that already? I lose count long before it ends.
And for what? A snake to find his girlfriend? And it’s my fault he suddenly gets a conscience?
I shake my head as I come back to the present. I think Carter loses her place in her calculations when I jerk out of it. Or does she just look that way because she bumps me accidentally on purpose to bring me back? Hard to tell.
As the medieval monk imitation continues and my eyes droop again, the experience at Palais du Ba’al tries to revisit. I tamp it down. I recount in my head all the Goa’uld we have taken out over the years - Cronus, Apophis, Nirrti and Hathor, just to name a few. And I remind myself this is *it*. If these Tok’Ra ever get around to it, that is.
On the other side of T stands Daniel, who at least knows the plot. And then Vala Mal Doran - the expressions crossing her face range from a furrowed brow to a smug grin to a… Her yawn triggers mine. As I yawn, I turn to Carter, who has to listen because I outrank her.
“Never, in the history of boredom has anyone been more bored than I am, right now.” She smiles, which is, of course, my raison d’être.
“C’mon, Sir. It’s only been…” Carter checks her watch and concludes, “Ooh.” She sighs, too.
“Don’t worry,” Daniel cajoles. “Crimes they’re listing are starting to sound familiar.”
“Crimes? That’s what they’ve been crooning about for three hours?”
“Quite a ditty, ain’t it?” says Mitchell with a frown.
As Daniel responds to Vala’s comment about fairness to the host, because, well, Daniel just can’t seem to let stuff like that go, I silently wonder if the Tok’Ra include my captivity and torture in their litany. If so, and if Daniel’s right that the conclusion nears, it could be right…now.
A quick picture pops into my head again - of Ba’al reveling as I succumb once more to his ministrations - but disappears as I assert control.
“Revive the prisoner.”
Finally! Let’s get this show on the road! I turn back to the ceremony with renewed enthusiasm as Ba’al comes back to consciousness. Smarmy bastard. I look forward to having the last laugh.
I hear Vala say something to Daniel about Ba’al possibly making a run for it and Daniel reassure her about security. I agree with Daniel, but I like Vala’s attitude. I will not hesitate to swipe Carter’s P-90 if he tries.
When this is over, I think I’ll take the kids out for lunch. And cake. We’ll have a ball.
Show/Movie: Stargate SG-1
Story Title: The Here and the Now
Character/Relationships: Jack O'Neill, Other
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Memories of torture and other bad things.
He woke in a cold sweat again. I rolled over, but he put a hand on my shoulder and muttered something about going back to sleep. I watched as he pushed back the blankets and walked to the bathroom. He turned on the light and stood at the sink, letting the water run before he cupped one hand and splashed it to his face. I would ask if he was alright, but I knew what he would say. "Fine." "Stop worrying." "Go back to bed." So I rested against the pillows and waited for him to come back.
Even if he didn't tell me what sent him from our bed gasping in the middle of the night, I could figure it out easily enough. I may not know which nightmare in particular it was, but I knew the Greatest Hits. His time in Iraq was a frequent player, his mind going back to the torture he endured by the enemy. But sadly, that probably wasn't his worst torture. I knew that his time in Ba'al's prison was the worst thing he'd ever experienced. I knew because he'd actually tried to talk about that with me, but he failed. The pain in his eyes, the way he looked at me when he told the story, I knew there was a lot he'd never be able to say aloud. But I would be there with him through the silences.
As if his own wars and tribulations weren't enough, he also had to deal with the leftover memories of Kanan. The bastard Tok'ra who hijacked his body to save a woman. There was a chance that Jack would have still gone if the Tok'ra had been straight with him, but the way he'd gone about it was unforgivable.
The bathroom light switched off and he trudged back to bed. He crawled under the covers and I touched his shoulder.
"I thought I told you to go back to sleep."
I ignored him. "Are you okay?"
He kissed me, and I stroked the back of his head with my fingers. When he pulled back, he said, "Just another flashback."
"Want to talk about it?"
He shook his head, as I knew he would. He pulled me closer, and I smiled in the darkness as I kissed him again. I couldn't be a sounding board, and I couldn't do anything to ease his pain. But I could keep his mind concretely in the here and now. It might not help heal his scars, but it would definitely remind him that there was good in his life, too. For tonight, it would be enough.