| |
Betrayed
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The concept of this fic, which was written for the Jackfic Word of the Month, Betrayal, came to me out of my desire to write something that was based in the present, but with the past interwoven throughout, sort of telling a story within a story. In other words, I was experimenting with the idea of telling a complete story in flashbacks, memories and dreams. I'm not sure if I was successful in this, and I would love it if you all could tell me your thoughts on whether I succeeded or not.
I want to thank the Jackficcers who helped me tremendously by providing comments, encouragement and ideas on how to improve this fic. Also thanks go out to Lynette for being my mentor throughout this story, whether she knew about it or not. Her comments and suggestions really helped me out a lot. And thanks go out to Teri of Texas who convinced me that this story could end the way I wanted it to.
I also want to send out a special thank you to my beta, Diane, who asked me a thousand and one questions about this story when she first read it, forcing me to do some major editing in order to clarify some points and hopefully making it less confusing. You are the best!
Chapter 1
The floor of the cell that he had been dumped in was cold and barren and Jack was freezing. He was still dressed in the clothes he had worn while he lived as a slave on Hulmeshur, but shoes had been a luxury and the thin sandals he had been wearing when he was rescued had disappeared sometime during the trip back to Earth. Because of this he had been brought into the cell barefoot and he was still waiting for the shoes they'd promised him. He pulled his feet up on to the bed he was sitting on and wrapped his arms around his knees, hoping to conserve what little warmth he had left in his body.
He'd been back at the SGC for over six hours, ever since he had come back through the Gate kicking and shouting obscenities, pulling at the restraints that held his arms behind his back. He was not an animal, but try telling that to those jarheads who had come to `rescue' him. He was glad that they had finally rescued him from the hell he had been forced to go through during the last eight months, but the fact that he was still a prisoner didn't make his homecoming any sweeter.
Some homecoming, he thought sourly. They had brought him to this cell once the doctor had pronounced him well enough to leave the infirmary. The doctor's prognosis had been encouraging - aside from some burns and bruises, which had been treated, he was slightly dehydrated. Still, his condition didn't warrant having him strapped down in a bed in the infirmary when he could be walking around in a locked cell. They considered him a danger and locked him up to minimize the danger, but at least he wasn't tied down.
He looked around at his surroundings, realizing the irony of the situation. He was in a room that was divided down the middle with metal bars that created a wall to keep prisoners locked up behind it. A bunk bed was installed in the cell, while the other side of the room provided plenty of space for visitors to come in to visit without having to worry about getting their heads bashed in by the prisoner being held in the cell. In all his years at the SGC, Jack had never been on this side of the bars.
He was in the same cell Carter had been held in when Jolinar had taken her as a host and he remembered her pleas when she begged him to help her, as well as his determination not to give in. Would she do the same thing to him now?
Damn, it's cold! He found himself wishing that his jailors had thought to give him a change of clothes, but they were too busy fighting to keep him restrained to think of his comfort. He put his chin on his knees in an effort to stop his teeth from chattering, but nothing he did seemed to help. After a minute of hugging his knees to his chest, he reached over and grabbed the blanket from the end of the bed and proceeded to wrap it around his huddled form.
Once he got the blanket in place, he glanced up at the one-eyed sentry that watched his every move. It stared at him even now, monitoring his every movement, as well as every sound, as he sat there on the bed. Hell, it was probably counting each and every breath he took.
He glared at the camera mounted on the wall a moment longer, then focused on the door on the other side of the bars. There was someone standing guard outside of it waiting quietly and patiently for even the slightest hint of trouble. It was a way of life for these people to make sure their prisoners didn't get away. He knew the routine all too well and he even considered using that routine against them, but knew he would ultimately get caught. Even he couldn't win against these guys.
Someone should be coming to feed him soon and the first thing he planned to ask for was that they turn up the heat. Maybe he'd ask for a pair of those wool-lined slippers his grandmother had bought him for his birthday one year. They had come in handy when that blizzard hit. They were a hell of a lot warmer than the blanket he was currently huddled under.
He continued to stare at the door, praying it would open soon so that he could convince those idiots that there was no need for the freaking air conditioner to be on continuously. He hadn't been this cold since..., well, he couldn't remember how long. Maybe that time in Antarctica. Yeah that was definitely worse. He shivered again, whether from thinking about Antarctica or from his current predicament, he didn't know.
"Will you turn the fucking heat up?" he shouted at the camera. Someone had to have heard him, there was always someone monitoring the prisoners - when they had prisoners that is. He tried to pull the blanket tighter around him, but it was already at the point of nearly suffocating him.
He put his chin down on his knees again and started to rock back and forth, hoping that the movement would create some warmth. Okay, think warm places. Beaches, barbecues, Sokar's moon, Hulmeshur..., no don't think Hulmeshur, something else... beaches, yeah warm sunny beaches.
The door opened suddenly, interrupting his concentration on finding a warm, sunny beach. "Finally," he said as he watched an airman walk in carrying a blanket and was that shoes? Yes! He stared at the airman, not daring to move in case this was all a trick and the prizes would be taken away. He knew what people were capable of, so he waited to see what the airman was going to do.
The blanket and the shoes were set down on the floor just inside the bars of his cell. He stared at the items then looked up at the airman, who had backed out of the cell and closed the door, wondering if this was all a trick. Deep down he knew he should trust him, they were his people after all, but he had been betrayed too many times by people he had trusted to even give this stranger a chance.
The airman smiled at him and took a few steps back, while nodding his head toward the blanket and shoes. It's not a trick, it can't be a trick, he thought to himself. Give the guy a chance, already. He got up off of the bed, throwing the blanket off his shoulders and cautiously walked over to pick up the gifts, glad that the sensor that was present when Jolinar occupied the cell had not been turned on. He stopped just short of his goal and chanced a look at the airman again. It's not a trick, just give him a chance. With that thought clanging in his mind, he reached out and snatched the shoes from the pile and was pleased to see that a pair of socks had been sandwiched between the shoes and the blanket. He looked up at the airman again, then grabbed the socks and the blanket before heading back to the bed in order to put some distance between him and the other man.
Once he was on the bed, he looked back at the airman and smiled his thanks then proceeded to put the socks on. Oh yeah! He was sure he could feel his feet warming up already and he hurriedly put on the shoes to help in thawing them out.
"You're welcome," the airman said. "They've also adjusted the temperature for you. This room should start to warm up in a few minutes."
Jack didn't reply, he just grabbed the blankets and began to arrange them so that he was thoroughly covered from his head to his leather clad toes, which had been pulled up to his body again. It was comforting to be wrapped up like this, not only for the warmth, but also because it made him feel safe. He didn't even try to dwell on the logic of that thought, he just sat there in the cocoon he had built around himself and watched as the airman looked at him sadly before leaving the room.
Shame washed over Jack as he realized that the airman pitied him. He knew that what the airman saw was a grown man huddled under the blankets like a frightened child. He tried to pretend that it didn't bother him, even as he pulled the blankets tighter around him. All he needed to do was to wait for the room to heat up, then he'd be able to get rid of the blankets.
It took a while, but he soon began to feel the warmth and he decided to lie down to try to get some sleep. Maybe this time there won't be any nightmares. No dreams of fires and fears, stress and starvation, or of pain and betrayal. Maybe this time he'll dream of beaches and bikinis, or of fishing in a clear blue lake filled with bass and perch.
The quiet and the warmth that he was finally starting to feel did the trick and he closed his eyes in an effort to relax and sleep. He opened them when he heard a laugh that chilled him to the bone, despite the fact that he was lying there in a warm cocoon of blankets. He knew that laugh and he looked toward the bars of his cell to see Taria standing there with a big smile on her face and the keys to his cell dangling from her hand.
It was a trap, he knew it was a trap, but he had to trust her. She wouldn't sell him out again. Not after what she'd said to him the last time she'd helped him to escape. He had been caught and the punishment far outweighed anything Ba'al had ever done to him. Taria had told him that she would never cause him to go through that again, as the experience of watching his punishment had been too traumatic for her. It still boggled the mind when he thought about it. Too traumatic for her? He refused to even remember what those bastards had done to him, let alone dwell on it, and she was complaining about her own trauma?
He didn't believe her then, why did he believe her now? "I can't go with you," he said, as he got up and walked over to the bars of the cell.
"You wouldn't believe what I had to do to get these keys, Jack," she said with a frown. "We can leave this place. Go someplace where Handar will never find us. We can be free."
"No," he said with a shake of his head. "This is another one of your tricks, isn't it? What are you up to this time?"
"This is not a trick, Jack," she said urgently. "We must leave now. Please, before we are caught."
The thought of them getting caught had him trembling and he stared at her, not able to keep the fear from showing in his expression. He struggled to school his features so that nothing of what he felt showed in his face, but she wasn't concerned with that anyway, she wanted out of there. She grabbed his hand and pulled him along after her, her laughter ringing through his ears as they ran through the maze of their master's quarters. He realized where she was heading and he stubbornly dug in his heels as he tried to stop her, but she was strong, too strong. "No," he said, almost pleading with her. "Don't do this Taria. Stop!" But she wouldn't listen, only laughed as she pulled him through the throne room while taunting him with the words she threw at Handar, their master. "No," he tried one more time to stop this madness, but it was too late. His heart sped up as he realized that Handar had the lightening rod in his hands, and he felt his insides turn to jelly when he realized what was going to happen next. "No," he yelled as he struggled to get away from the guards who had grabbed him, holding him down so that he would be an easy target for Handar's wrath.
He yelled out in pain when the weapon touched his arm, fighting against the hands that were trying to hold him down. He needed to get away and he cursed the guards and that bitch, Taria, cursed them to everlasting damnation. He swung his fists and kicked out at the bastards, feeling a satisfaction when his punches and kicks connected with flesh and bone. He wasn't strong enough though, as he felt a pinch in his arm and realized that he was losing in a big way. He stopped struggling as a weakness came over him and he stared up at Taria, her blue eyes turning to brown as he watched. The face he was looking at wasn't Taria, after all. It was the face of the doctor at the SGC and he realized that it had all been a dream. A particularly bad one, but a dream nonetheless and he felt himself calming down, knowing it was probably the sedative that he was given.
"Don't want to sleep," he pleaded with the Doc. "No more dreams," he added sleepily. "God, please..."
"It'll be all right," she said soothingly. He heard her through the haze and grabbed her hand, holding on to it to give him something to concentrate on - he just needed to stay awake. He could feel the softness of her fingers as they smoothed the skin on his forehead and he tried to pull away from them, knowing they were trying to make him relax.
"Please," he begged, totally ignoring the fact that he would not have stooped to begging if he had been one hundred percent himself.
"I'll stay with you," she promised, as she continued her ministrations. "I'll make sure someone stays with you."
"Please," he said again, or at least he thought he'd said it. He couldn't be sure, as the darkness took over a few seconds later.
**************************
He woke the next morning from a dreamless sleep to find a pair of beautiful blue eyes smiling at him and he panicked thinking of the betrayal those blue eyes had inflicted on his soul. It took a minute to realize that it wasn't Taria he was looking at, but Samantha Carter, a member of SG-1 and a close friend. He couldn't help the smile that came to his face when he realized who was holding his hand and his relief was evident as he felt himself relax.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Okay," he said warily. He couldn't help but wonder why she was with him instead of in her lab or off saving the world again.
"Really?" she asked, as she smiled at him. "We've been worried about you."
"Really," he responded. He tried to move his other hand only to find that he had been strapped down to the bed. He tried to calm the panic that was building up in him again, while glaring at Carter accusingly.
"It's just a precaution," she said, having apparently interpreted the glare correctly. "You put one SF in the infirmary and took out a couple more the last time you woke up. We're not taking any chances here." The smile she wore on her face was warm and he thought he saw something that look like pride in her expression.
He didn't respond, just stared at her, waiting for her to release him. Her smile faltered and she looked at their clasped hands for a moment. "I can't take the restraints off. Not until we know you won't try to kill us all again." She stroked her thumb across his hand as she asked, "Will you tell me what's going on, please?"
He stared into her eyes, much more beautiful than that traitorous bitch, Taria. He didn't see any deception in them, but then again, he thought he could trust Taria once upon a time.
"You're closing down on me, I can see it," Carter said, as she gripped his hand tighter. "Please don't shut me out. What happened to you on that planet that is making you act like this?"
"Like what?" he asked, even though he wasn't sure that he wanted to hear her version of his shame. He knew he was acting like a frightened child, but he couldn't hide from the fear, the anger and the hatred that had taken up residence in his soul. It was there taunting him, haunting him and he just wanted to hide from it all. He just hadn't figured out where to hide yet.
"Please Jack," she pleaded. He knew she was only calling him by his first name to try to gain his trust and his confidence, but he had already been burned once, literally, and he didn't plan to let that happen ever again.
He just stared at her. He knew what the others were thinking, that he was a madman, holding court in his own mind and fighting off demons that didn't exist. She was pretty courageous sitting there with him alone in his jail cell, while the others believed the worse. Granted he was strapped down to the bed and there was a guard standing on the other side of the bars, but they both knew he could shred her to pieces with just words if he'd wanted to. He'd done it before when he had to pretend he was an unhappy old bastard that had taken to stealing alien technology from the Tollan. He had hurt her badly then, he could do it again.
Instead he turned his attention to the bunk above him, choosing to ignore her. How could he tell her what he went through when he couldn't even begin to think about it without falling apart? There was no way he was going back there, even in his memories, and it was a constant struggle, compounded by his nightmares, to not even think about that place. He was determined to put it all behind him.
She sighed when she realized that she wasn't going to get very far. He waited for her to get up and leave, but was surprised when she asked him if he wanted to play cards. He turned to stare at her in amazement, then raised his arm as far as the straps would let him, while at the same time nodding his head toward the binds around his wrist.
"If you promise not to beat the crap out of me, physically, that is, I'll let you go," she said with a smile. "I won't put you back into the restraints if you beat me at cards though."
"I promise," he said, staring at her smile. Carter's smile was nowhere near as cold as Taria's had been. Even after they had consummated their relationship, Taria's smile had lacked warmth of any degree. He should have realized then that the bitch didn't have a heart.
"Will I ever get to see you smile again?" Carter asked, breaking into his thoughts, morbid that they were. The question had shocked him as he knew he hadn't expressed his thoughts out loud, although now that he thought about it, he didn't think he would ever find anything to smile about.
"Maybe," he replied noncommittally. "The binds?" he asked, trying to lift his arm again.
"Oh sure," she said, reaching over to do the honors. She smiled at him again as she worked and he felt a measure of safety in her presence.
He sat up when he was finally released and he stared at her while he rubbed at the chaffing on his wrist. He could see she was becoming uncomfortable due to his staring, but he couldn't stop wondering what her ulterior motive for being there was. "What is it you want from me?" he finally asked.
"What?" she asked in surprise, looking up from the cards she had produced from her pocket.
"Why are you here?"
"I just want to spend some time with you, to try to help you," she said. "I was hoping you would open up to me and talk to me. Maybe tell me what's going on in your head."
He was back to staring at her again, wondering what had changed to cause her to think he would talk to her this time. He was notorious for not talking about his feelings or his fears even to his wife, what made her think he would be able to do so with her? Come to think of it, she rarely took the time to get him to talk.
"So what it'll be? Poker or rummy?" she asked, as she shuffled the cards.
Chapter 2
Carter left several hours later, telling him that she would be back to see him soon. She had given up trying to get him to talk, as he knew she would, and they had settled into their game. It was nice having her there, though. She kept the memories away while she talked of her motorcycle and the recent acquisition from planet whatever. He let her talk, giving one-word answers whenever she asked him something and totally ignoring the questions that related to anything he had encountered during the last eight months.
He was alone now; the guard that had stood outside the cell the whole time Carter was there had followed her out. The good news was that they hadn't tied him back down to the bed, although he figured they would wait until he was asleep before getting those restraints out again.
He went back to sitting on the bed, wondering when they were going to let him out of there. He really hadn't done anything to warrant such treatment, just fought like a crazy man every time anyone came near him. He was okay with that now, couldn't they see that? The hours he'd spent with Sam Carter should be proof enough that he was no longer a danger to anyone. He just needed to play it cool. They would have to let him out if he could just manage to keep his cool.
At least it was finally warm in the cell. His body had adjusted to the heat of Hulmeshur after eight months of living in a climate that would have put the Sahara desert to shame. He was used to the heat and anything colder than 75 degrees Fahrenheit had him shivering and his teeth chattering. It was just one more thing for the others to pity him for.
He looked up when the door to the room opened again to see the airman from the day before bringing in a tray with what he hoped was food. His stomach rumbled in anticipation and he uncoiled himself to get up off the bed. A second airman came in, but stood by the door and held his weapon ready in case their prisoner went nuts again. He had forgotten about their routine in his haste to get to the tantalizing smell that wafted from the tray. The airman opened the door of the cell and placed the tray on the floor, then backed away after shutting the door again. Something smelled fantastic and he had to force himself to stay calm. He needed to convince them he was still human, but the smell of food that was obviously something other than the gruel he had been forced to eat for the past eight months had him wanting to attack it with a vengeance. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to calmly walk over to the tray, pick it up and take it back to the bed. He sat down and picked up the cover that hid the food from his view and almost shouted out in joy. Steak! Oh yeah, someone out there loves him.
He looked back out at the room on the other side of the bars to see if the airmen were still there. He would have attacked that steak if they had already left, but they stood there watching him.
"Thanks," he said, hoping that they would leave. "Wait. No knife?" What kind of cruelty was this? Give him a steak, but not the ability to eat it with any dignity.
"No knife. Sorry," said the airman who had brought the tray in.
He picked up the steak with his fingers, glaring at the airmen as he took a bite. They were no better than the guards at Hulmeshur with their cruelty and contempt. He took up the spoon, which was the only utensil he was allowed to use. Apparently his skill with throwing forks and hitting people between the eyes had become legendary. He grimaced at that thought - sarcasm just didn't seem to be the same when there was no one else around to appreciate it.
Someone had gone to a lot of trouble for him, he realized, as he dug into the baked potato with his spoon. This was not something one would normally find in a military commissary. He wondered if Carter had a say in this, or maybe it was Daniel. Either way, everything was delicious and he was saddened when he reached the bottom of the plate.
He put the spoon down on the tray when he had finished everything and sat back on the bed, leaning back up against the wall. "Please put the tray down on the floor where you found it," the airman who had brought the food told him. Anger welled up in him as he stared at the guards, the very people who had stood there watching, waiting for him to make a mistake. One little mistake could bring on the punishments again and this was not going to happen as far as he was concerned. He got up slowly, picking up the tray and carrying it over to the place where he had originally found it. The guards watched, ready and willing to pounce the first chance they got.
Once the tray was settled, he stepped back from it, not for a minute taking his eyes off of the airmen. Would they mess it up and say he'd done it? Balzor would have done it in a heartbeat. But Balzor wasn't here, he had to remind himself. These were his own people and he knew they wouldn't do something like that. Would they?
The tray was picked up and both airmen left the room after making sure the door of the cell was locked. Silence fell around him once again and he felt the tension build up inside him. Silence had only meant one thing on Hulmeshur, dread and a fear the likes of which he had never known until he had lived in that place for a few months.
What made him think of that? He had endured a lot of silence since coming back to the SGC. This was not the first time. He decided to dwell on that little mystery for awhile in hopes that he would forget the memories this particular silence was conjuring up.
Fortunately, he was saved from thinking about it too much because the door of the room opened and the doctor walked in, followed by Daniel Jackson, two male nurses and the SF who had been standing guard outside the door. He eyed the little entourage warily, wondering what they had in store for him this time. It didn't look good if the doctor felt the need to be surrounded by four men.
"How are you feeling?" the doctor asked. She was standing just outside the closed door of his cell and he wondered if she was going to come in. Judging by the nod she gave to his guard, she was.
"Hi Jack," Daniel said a little too cheerfully, as he stood next to the doctor, both looking at him with anticipation.
"Hi," Jack replied, not moving from his position on the bed. He sat there with his head leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and one knee brought up, staring at his visitors, waiting for the bomb to drop.
"I see you've enjoyed your lunch," the doctor said, as the guard came forward to unlock the door. Jack brought his head up at that, but didn't move just yet. He had to be calm. If anyone needed to be convinced of his ability to stay calm so that he could get out of there, it was the doctor.
"I figured you'd like the steak," Daniel added with a shrug. "I had to practically browbeat the cook into making it for you."
"Thanks," he said, watching them warily.
"You're welcome," Daniel responded with a frown. "You okay Jack?"
"Yeah," he responded, wishing he knew what was going on.
"I just want to get your vitals and to check you out one more time," the doctor told him as she tentatively moved closer. Daniel was a little braver and came right over to sit on the bed next to him, smiling at him, albeit a little defiantly.
Jack didn't move when Daniel sat down, his eyes were trained on the doctor, watching her every move. He was afraid she was going to sedate him again and he tried to come up with an excuse to keep her from doing so. He sat calmly when she put the blood pressure cuff on him, although he panicked just a little when the band tightened on his arm. It reminded him of the vise that had him screaming in agony... Oh shit. Don't go there. Focus on the Doc. She was looking at him with concern, her face reflecting the terror he felt of the memories that had almost surfaced. She knew something was up and he tried to smile at her to show her he was okay.
"Jack?" Daniel said quietly. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," he replied, still trying to stay focused on the doctor. "You done?' he asked her, hoping they would leave before he lost it and sacrificed the freedom he had been hoping for.
"Almost," she replied with a smile. He saw through the smile though. She wasn't going to help him, he just knew it.
"When can I get out of here?" he asked, watching the smile on her face dim as she looked to Daniel for assistance. That bitch, he snarled inwardly. She was just as bad as Taria.
"Just as soon as you can show us that you won't try to kill everyone who comes near you," Daniel supplied.
"You're near me now," he said, hoping they would see he was ready to face the world. "I haven't killed you yet."
"Well, you do have a point there, but they want to wait just a little longer to make sure you are absolutely okay."
"I'm okay. In fact, I'm better than okay. I am so ready to blow this joint," he said, trying to keep the desperation at bay. "Please Doc. I'm feeling much better."
"Just a few more days. That's all I ask," she said as she pulled a penlight out of her pocket. "I'm just going to look into your eyes for a minute, okay?"
"I'm ready to go now," he growled, as she shone the light into his left eye. He stared at the light, hoping that cooperation on his part would be the deciding factor, knowing deep down that it wouldn't be.
The light was now shining in his right eye and he knew without a doubt this woman was as heartless as Taria when she stepped back and shook her head. "Just a few more days," she insisted.
"What will a few more days hurt?" Daniel asked. "This will give you the opportunity to relax and..."
"I can't stay here!" Jack blurted out, desperation making an appearance anyway. "There's nothing to do and it's too quiet. The silence is deafening, which means they're... Daniel, I have to get out of here." Oh God, what was he going to do? What would it take to get through to them?
"You don't like the quiet?" the doctor asked. "I think we could have them bring a TV or a radio in here."
"Since when don't you like the quiet Jack?" Daniel asked with a frown. "You thrive on it. You are forever telling me to shut up, that I talk too much." He stared at him for a few moments, then asked, "Who's here when it's quiet?"
Jack didn't respond right away. He was too busy trying to erase the memories from his mind. "The guards," he finally said, as he pulled his knees up to his chest. "They didn't notice us if we stayed quiet and hidden. That place would be like a tomb when the guards came in. The door would open and every single person in the room would stop speaking and drop down to their knees in an instant, hoping and praying they wouldn't be noticed." He squeezed his eyes shut at that point, working hard on trying to think of something else, but the memories seemed to wash over him like a waterfall. "It wasn't long before the silence was broken by the screams," he whispered, before putting his head down on his knees.
He brought his head back up when he felt someone put their hand on his shoulder, only to see that the guards had found him despite his best efforts at staying quiet and not moving an inch. "No," he said as he tried to back up, but a wall stopped his movements.
"Get up," one of the guards demanded as he grabbed his arm. "It's your turn today."
He stood up and waited, knowing what was coming and dreading it. There was no use fighting it, in fact fighting them only made things worse. So he stood there waiting for the pain, hoping that this time he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing him scream.
"Jack?" one of them said to him, while grabbing his arm. "What is it? Jack?"
The fear in Daniel's voice brought him out of his memories. He was back in the cell in almost an instant, trembling in fright as he stood there wondering what had just happened. Oh Christ, he was seriously deranged and in so much trouble, he didn't think he would ever see the light of day again.
"Jack!" Daniel said again. "Come on, snap out of it."
"Leave me alone Daniel," he snarled, suddenly tired of the whole scene. They were not going to let him out of there now. Jeez, he'd be lucky if they'd let him stay in this cell instead of installing him into the nearest mental hospital.
"I think you may benefit from talking with Dr. Mackenzie." the Doc said. Damn, it seems his luck had run out. Mackenzie would have him in that mental institution quicker than he could say "nutcase".
"No," he said. "I don't need to talk with Mackenzie. I'm fine, really I am. I just need a little more time. Away from here," he added for good measure.
"Dr. Mackenzie is more qualified in dealing with situations such as this," the doctor insisted as she walked toward the door of the cell. "I'll see what I can do to arrange it."
"No!" he yelled. "I won't talk to him. Daniel, talk to her. Make her see that this is wrong."
"It wouldn't hurt to give him a try," Daniel said thoughtfully. "You have to admit that there is something wrong here Jack. Mackenzie is trained in helping people deal with their demons."
"The way he helped you with yours?" he said, wondering how Daniel could forget his own stay in a mental institution. He realized he was heading down the right path when he saw Daniel's face grow pale.
"You can't deny you need help Jack," Daniel replied stubbornly. "Mackenzie may not be the best choice, but at this point, what do you have to lose?"
"Do you think he'll put me in the same room you were in?" he asked spitefully. Daniel reacted as if he'd been slapped. He stared at Jack for a moment then turned away to walk toward the cell door. He stopped and turned back, and Jack could see that his eyes had taken on a haunted look. Daniel opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again and settled on just glaring at him.
"I won't let it come to that," Daniel said quietly when he finally found his voice. Jack knew better though. Mackenzie could do whatever he wanted with his slaves... patients he corrected himself, struggling to keep himself in the here and now.
"You won't be able to stop him," Jack replied. Oh what was the use? His situation was just as hopeless here as it was in Hulmeshur. "Please Doc," he said to try one more time. "I just need to get out of here for awhile. Freedom is something I didn't have on that planet and I don't have it here. Please."
"Teal'c and I can stay with him," Daniel piped up in an effort to help.
"I'll talk with the General," she said. "I'll try to convince him."
Jack nodded at her, all the while fighting to control the urge to grab her and shake her. He knew she was just patronizing him. He could see it in her eyes. She didn't believe him and he was at a loss as to what he could do to convince her.
The nurses followed her out, leaving Daniel and the SF to keep him company. He wasn't quite sure what to say to Daniel, having already touched a nerve in his old friend. "I appreciate your help," he finally said.
"You might be a little premature here. Let's wait and see what the General has to say."
"Do you think he'll agree?"
"I don't know. You have been lashing out at people ever since you got back. Why are you doing that?"
What to say to this? If he admitted that he was reacting to flashbacks, Mackenzie would be dragged in. Acknowledging that he didn't know why, would guarantee Mackenzie being brought in. It was a lose/lose situation all around, so he kept his silence hoping Daniel would just drop the subject.
Daniel finally got the hint an hour later and Jack was glad when he'd finally left, defeated. That guy sure could be persistent, but Jack held on to his unwillingness to think about that place with both fists. Part of him was having a hard time dealing with the memories while the other part was terrified he would slip into a flashback and act out in anger. He was determined that he was not going to mess things up any more than they already were, so he steadfastly refused to cooperate. Now if he could only convince the doctor and the General of his sanity.
Daniel hadn't been gone 30 minutes when two guards came in and handcuffed him to take him to the briefing room to meet with the General, SG-1, and Captain Steven Gordon, the only other survivor of that fateful mission to Hulmeshur. It was the debriefing from hell, as far as Jack was concerned. They wanted him to tell them, in great detail, everything that had happened to him.
He did, up to a point. He was able to tell them about going to that planet with SG-8, of meeting with Handar to talk with him about an alliance and a treaty, then of the attack by Handar's guards during the meeting. He even managed to tell them all about his capture and subsequent stay in their less than hospitable accommodations, commonly referred to as the slave quarters. But he was unable to elaborate on his day-to-day activities for the last eight months. The memories of what they did to force him into slavery were tame compared to what they did to him when they had caught him after he had jumped at the opportunity to escape, not to mention the agony he experienced the few times he had been chosen as the entertainment when the guards were bored.
He cringed when he remembered the moment he had inadvertently given into the memories and found himself back at the courtyard in Handar's palace, watching the guards pull an old man off of a wagon and kick him near to death. He had stayed where he was, watching them, wanting to do something to help, but unable to, due to his fear. It was a weakness he regretted even now. He remembered fighting past the fear and going over to the guards shouting at them, taunting them with words filled with hatred and anger stopping only when they turned their attention to him. He was pushed down and he found himself laying face down on the table, staring at Carter who returned his stare with wide, frightened eyes.
He had blown it. He knew it the moment he was dragged up off the table and saw that the General had made up his mind. He was going to have to face Mackenzie.
God, he hated them all. The General, the doctor, even his friends, but mostly he hated Handar and his guards. He was now back in his cell, sitting down on the bed to keep himself from pacing. Depression settled in, as he pulled his legs up in the now familiar huddle, while closing his eyes and resting his head on his knees. Nothing had changed. He was still a slave, he realized, even here at the SGC. At least they wouldn't be beating the crap out of him, he reasoned.
Dinner was brought to him and he ate it, not even caring what the airmen thought of his behavior. He ate everything that was given to him and he was the perfect gentleman as he set the tray back down on the floor before going back to sit on the bed. The same old routine, he thought. Boring!!
The rest of the day passed by in a blur and he was exhausted by the end of it, despite the fact that there wasn't much to do in a jail cell. The majority of his energy was spent on worry and fear as he thought about his impending visits with Mackenzie. He knew from past experience that Mackenzie was good at his job, which meant that he would be forced to relive his imprisonment at Hulmeshur whether he wanted to or not.
He was just so tired. Sleep would not be good, mainly due to the nightmares, but more importantly he knew he would wake up in the restraints. He knew they didn't trust him. They were afraid he would hurt himself during one of his `episodes'. Hurt himself? What a crock.
Chapter 3
He woke up the next morning to find Teal'c sitting on the floor next to his bed. This didn't surprise Jack in the least. In fact he wondered why the Jaffa hadn't visited him sooner. What did surprise him was the fact that Teal'c was the only one in the room. Maybe the guards figured Teal'c could take care of himself, he was certainly big enough for the job.
"Teal'c," he said to let his friend know he was awake. "Can you get me out of these restraints?"
Teal'c opened his eyes and turned to look at him with a solemn expression. "Good morning," he said with a slight nod of his head.
"Morning," Jack replied. He waited, but Teal'c didn't move. "The restraints?" he said as a reminder. Teal'c got up then and came over to release him. "Did I hurt anyone last night?" Jack asked as Teal'c unfastened the collar of the restraints.
"No, you did not," Teal'c responded, "Your dreams did not bother anyone since I was the only one who stayed with you last night."
"Thanks," he replied. There was nothing else he could say to that, so he resorted to silence while Teal'c worked on releasing him. He ended up remembering the dream he'd had that `bothered no one, but Teal'c'.
He had dreamed of the day that Handar had given Taria to him for his mate. Apparently, the slaves had no say so whatsoever in their lives, which Jack had found out the hard way. Even their mates were chosen for them. The dream had taken a different turn than what really had happened, as dreams were wont to do, and Jack found himself struggling with the guards when they'd grabbed him and forced him to his knees to accept a punishment for something Taria had done. Her laughter was the last thing he'd heard before the whip tore open the skin on his back. He had wakened at that point to find himself back in the darkness of his cell, struggling to get out of the restraints that were becoming another prop in his day-to-day hell.
He had been alone when he woke from that dream; at least he thought he had been. Teal'c must have just let him ride it out, figuring the restraints would be enough to keep him down. God knows he had wakened from enough nightmares in the past when they were camping off-world without Teal'c coming to see if he had survived those dreams. That was one of the things he appreciated about his friend. Teal'c didn't feel the need to try to coddle him.
Teal'c finally unlocked the last of the restraints and Jack got up to stretch. "Thanks T," he said, as he sat back down on the bed. "Now if you could only get me out of this place, I'd be all set."
"That is impossible," Teal'c said, stating the obvious. "You must remain here until Dr. Mackenzie agrees that you are well enough to leave."
"And that won't happen as long as I keep going back to Hulmeshur in my mind, will it?"
"No, it will not," Teal'c agreed. That's another thing he liked about Teal'c, he almost always told it like it was and spoke only when it was necessary.
"Now see, that's what I like about you Teal'c. You're a regular chatterbox. Talk all the time, never shuts up. Not as bad as Daniel, but close."
Teal'c didn't respond, just smiled as he waited for him to wind down, but Jack didn't want to wind down. Winding down meant sitting quietly, which in turn meant the chance of thinking of the past eight months. From there, he would probably end up kicking the crap out of the bed, thinking it was a bad guy while the people watching him through the camera would be thinking he had finally gone off the deep end. No, it was better if he just kept on trying to annoy Teal'c.
Teal'c must have seen it coming, because he turned toward the camera and gave a signal. The guard immediately came into the room and stood by the cell door waiting for further orders.
"Don't want to stay and keep me company Teal'c?" Jack asked, doing a great job of hiding his fear.
"It would please me to stay and visit with you," Teal'c responded. "I was told to summon the guard once you were awake." Jack just nodded at that. He had gotten used to the routine.
Teal'c stayed with him until his breakfast had arrived. They talked of the ongoing rebellion that Teal'c had played a major role in and of happier times. Not once did Teal'c mention Jack's recent experiences, which Jack appreciated with every fiber of his being. He had absolutely no intentions of even thinking about that place.
He enjoyed his breakfast of oatmeal and toast. The oatmeal brought back pleasant memories and he savored every bite, remembering the day Daniel and Carter stared at him with a mixture of astonishment and disgust when he'd inhaled a whole bowl of the stuff.
The airman who delivered the food and the guard who accompanied him just looked bored as they waited for Jack to finish eating. Jack spitefully took his time, mainly because he knew he could get away with it. He could get away with a lot of things here, he realized. A hell of a lot more than when he was back in Handar's domain. Damn it, couldn't one day go by without thinking of that place?
He finished his meal and placed the tray back down on the floor, glaring at the guards as they walked out and left him to face the silence alone. There had been a time when silence was a blessing, but that was in the past. He had a hard time dealing with it now.
It wasn't long before he got another visitor. Visitors were good, so long as the visitor wasn't Dr. Mackenzie. It wasn't Dr. Mackenzie, but this visitor was just as dangerous, as far as Jack was concerned. He watched warily as Captain Gordon walked into the room, stopping just outside the cell door. Probably feels safer out there, Jack thought to himself, as he waited for the Captain to say something.
"I wanted to stop by to see how you're doing," Gordon said.
"I'm still a prisoner," Jack replied.
Gordon nodded at that, his eyes taking in the surroundings as he struggled for words. Jack didn't feel the need to help him out; he just waited to hear what was on the Captain's mind.
"That was some battle," Gordon finally said. Jack just nodded, knowing which battle Gordon was referring to. "I barely got out of there alive," Gordon continued. "The Doc wouldn't let me come back with the rest when they went to back you all up."
"It's over with," Jack said, hoping to steer this conversation away from that planet. It was all he needed to start remembering something of that place for him to go ballistic again. "How's the wife?"
"Fine," Gordon said, his face showing his surprise. "Well, uh... she's fine. The marriage isn't doing too well, but she's fine."
"Glad to hear it," Jack replied. "Not about the marriage," he added in a rush. "I mean... I'm glad to hear that your wife is well." He gave up at that point and waited, as he couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Listen," Gordon said, "I... I want you to know that I was devastated when they brought back the rest of the team in body bags and then had you listed as Missing in Action. I wanted to go back to look for you, but the General wanted to wait until things cooled down there. Handar and his men were determined to kill anything that came through their Gate, and they almost succeeded with the guys who came to help in the battle we were fighting."
Jack knew first hand how ruthless Handar and his men were and he hated Gordon for bringing on the memories he had been trying valiantly to tamp down. The memories were flashing through his mind now, taunting him cruelly with images of the battle he had fought with SG-8 and of waking up from a blow to the head to find himself in a room full of people who were barely surviving. He tried to block out the memories of refusing to submit to the demands of servitude from Handar and his men when they tried to force him into slavery, and the agony he endured from the punishments he received when he stubbornly refused to give in.
He glared at the Captain as the memories of the past eight months crowded into his mind, fighting his resolve to keep them at bay. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, struggling with all his might to not give into the memories.
"Are you okay?" Gordon asked, his voice reflecting his fear.
"I'm okay," Jack replied, although he was really talking to himself. He opened his eyes to find Gordon staring at him, worry and fear showing up clearly in his features. This was a good sign, Jack thought as he stared back at his former teammate. He didn't go off on a tangent this time, maybe he really was getting better.
"I'm really sorry," Gordon said. "We didn't know if you were dead or alive, but we still..., oh God," he added with a sigh, "We left you behind. Every single person in this facility knows your feelings on that subject. I wanted to go back. I really did."
Jack wanted to respond to this, mainly because Gordon had hit a raw nerve with his words, but he worried that in doing so, he would be playing right into Mackenzie's hands by reacting in violence.
Knowing that he was going to be rescued was one of the things that had kept him going as he dealt with the guards, the pain and his fate as a slave. It wasn't until after several months of beatings and brutal punishments that he realized the truth of his situation and he ultimately gave in to their demands. He had been left behind and apparently forgotten.
"They had to practically tie Teal'c down," Gordon said, trying to smooth things over. "He was determined to go back there and kick ass until he found you."
Jack nodded, wishing Gordon would just leave. It was taking way too much effort to keep from punching the man in the face. He knew better than to do anything remotely violent, but Gordon was just making it harder to maintain this facade.
The tension between the two men finally got to Gordon. "Well, I'd better be going," he said, apparently deciding that now would be a good time to leave. "I have to be in a meeting in a few minutes."
Jack nodded again, still not trusting himself to speak. Gordon went to the door and knocked on it to have the guard open it for him. "I'll try to come back later," he said as he looked back at Jack, although both men knew that he wouldn't.
Jack went over to the bed and sat down heavily on it, leaning his head back against the wall. He closed his eyes as he tried to relax, hoping to chase away the dread and the memories that were floating around in his mind. The good news was that he hadn't reverted back to Hulmeshur and he hung on to that thought as he sat there in the silence, breathing deeply in an effort to make sure he relaxed.
Taria's laughter brought him out of his musings and he opened his eyes to stare out at the room on the other side of the bars. She wasn't there, this wasn't a dream, but he was sure he had heard her laughter. She did that a lot when they were together, despite the hardships they endured. She laughed at his jokes, when she did something silly or when he was hurt. He had come to love her at the beginning of their relationship, but she had destroyed him and any love he felt for her the day she turned on him to save her own skin.
"Don't go there," he growled, trying to fight off the memories that haunted him every time he turned around. He just couldn't seem to get rid of them. They waited in the shadows, waiting patiently until he let his guard down.
He looked toward the door when he heard the buzzer, knowing someone else was coming to visit. It was too early for lunch, so it had to be a visitor and he held his breath as he waited, worried that it was Dr. Mackenzie making his obligatory visit.
He just couldn't get a break, he realized, as Dr. Mackenzie walked in and stopped just outside the cell door. "Hello Jack," Mackenzie said with a patient smile. Jack just stared back at the psychiatrist with dread. This was so not good.
He spent the next hour and a half waiting for the doctor to get the hint that he didn't want to talk to him. The doctor was patient, Jack had to give him that. Mackenzie had asked questions designed to prompt Jack into talking about his time at Hulmeshur, but Jack continued to refuse to even think about that place. He just sat on the bed completely ignoring the man, even when Mackenzie told him he'd be facing a medical discharge from the Air Force if he didn't talk. Jack just shook his head at that. He'd faced worse punishments during the last eight months alone, a medical discharge was minor compared to the terrors Handar and his guards used to force him to comply.
"I can't help you if you won't let me," Mackenzie told him as the guard opened the door to let him out. "Talking about it and facing the horrors is the first step in dealing with this. I'll be back tomorrow."
Jack just nodded without responding. What Mackenzie didn't realize was that Jack was dealing with the horrors on a daily basis - every single minute of every single day. Dealing with the horrors only caused him to retreat into the memories of the past and Jack knew this couldn't be a good thing. Reliving the horrors was never a good thing.
He spent the next hour working on methods of distraction. He was alone and the quiet was threatening to send him over the deep end, so he decided to work on techniques he had learned to use in the past to keep his thoughts focused on memories other than the ones he knew would be his downfall.
He was successful to some degree, but he was still glad when the door opened again. He so hoped his visitor would be Carter, Daniel or Teal'c. They were his friends, after all. They wouldn't expect him to talk about the terror he experienced and he could always depend on them to help him. He stared at the door, wondering if maybe Mackenzie thought of something else to torture him with.
Jack's eyes widened and his mind shut down when he saw who it was. Apparently the General must have decided to pull out the big guns in an effort to help him get over this, because his visitor wasn't Dr. Mackenzie or his friends. He swallowed hard as he stared at the one man he had sworn he would never go to for help. There stood General Jonathan "Jack" O'Neill in all his glory and Jack felt the stirrings of genuine worry threading its way through his mind.
"You want to tell me what's going on?" O'Neill said as he stood outside the cell. Jack didn't know whether he was glad to see his counterpart or not. Although, he knew that if there was anyone who would understand him, it was the original Jack O'Neill.
He continued to stare at O'Neill wondering why he even bothered coming here all the way from Washington. Mackenzie would have been more than happy to pick Jack's mind apart to get at the memories he was trying so desperately to hide, but here was O'Neill instead.
"Well?" O'Neill prompted. Jack didn't know what to say to the man standing in front of him. He, himself, had been O'Neill up until the day he had been cloned by a renegade Asgard. Although very few people knew that O'Neill's clone had survived and was living and working among them incognito under the alias of Jack Gallagher, he still had some very big shoes to fill.
General Jack O'Neill wouldn't have given into slavery or to the demands of the brutal sadistic bastards that were determined to break him. General O'Neill wouldn't be sitting in a jail cell because of flashbacks that caused him to lash out at anyone who came near him. O'Neill wouldn't have to be tied down at night while he fought off the demons in his nightmares. Well he had news for all of them. Jack O'Neill was doing all that, no matter that it was the younger version of the General.
He was not O'Neill anymore, but that didn't erase the fact that he still had all the memories of the original O'Neill, who at the moment was motioning for the guard to open the cell door. The airman complied and O'Neill came over to the bed to sit down next to his clone.
"Why are you here?" Jack asked. He was genuinely surprised that the General would come all the way from Washington just to talk to him. He had always figured O'Neill would rather not be around his clone, if he could help it.
"General Landry called and told me you were in trouble. He asked me to come and talk to you," O'Neill replied as he gave him the once over. "You don't look crazy," he added.
"Well thank you," Jack responded with a small smile. "Looks can be deceiving though."
O'Neill nodded at him before saying, "So, what's going on? I hear you're trying to stay one step ahead of Mackenzie."
"Yeah," Jack said, glaring at the camera. "Is he watching the show?"
"No," O'Neill said with a frown as he, too, looked over at the camera. "Not that I know of, anyway."
Yeah right, Jack thought cynically. Mackenzie was probably foaming at the mouth to have the opportunity to watch O'Neill and his clone interact with each other. The very thought of that caused Jack to clam up. Apparently the guards at Hulmeshur didn't break his stubborn streak, he thought with some relief. At least he had something of his old self to fall back on.
"I'm waiting," O'Neill said with a trace of frustration showing through. "I came all this way to hear what you have to say and you clam up. The least you can do is tell me why I'm here."
"I don't know why you're here. I never was all that great when it came to mind reading. Maybe if you give me a hint..."
"Okay, I think I can help you out here. Let's start with Dr. Mackenzie. Does that give you an idea?" O'Neill ground out.
"Mackenzie," Jack snarled. He really did not want to talk with Mackenzie, mainly because the psychiatrist was way too good at what he did for a living. He knew the doctor wouldn't give up until the memories surfaced and were dealt with, but he also knew that he would end up in an institution if he couldn't control the flashbacks. No, he definitely did not want to talk to Mackenzie.
"Look Jack," O'Neill said, "I got a call telling me that they'd finally found you and brought you home, but you were violent and prone to fighting anyone who came near you. I was asked to come out here to talk to you, to see if there was anything I could do to help."
"I appreciate it," Jack responded. He knew that there probably wasn't anything the General could do, but he did appreciate the effort.
Silence filled the room as both men sat and waited for the other to say something. Jack debated on telling O'Neill about his problem, worried that if he did, O'Neill would berate him for giving into his fears. Hell, O'Neill would have done the same thing if he had been the one stuck in that place. They were one and the same, after all. Or at least they had been... Oh hell, what was the use?
"What's it going to be?" O'Neill asked. "You going to talk to me or do I leave you to Mackenzie?"
Jack didn't have much of a choice at that point. He had to choose the lesser of two evils, although he wasn't sure he was making the right choice. "I'll talk to you on one condition," he said. "Away from here with no one listening in," he added as he looked pointedly at the camera, then at the airman standing guard just outside the cell.
O'Neill stared at him for a few moments, then nodded his head. "I'll see what I can do," he said as he got up to leave. "I'll be back later."
Chapter 4
Jack O'Neill was worried as he walked purposely toward General Henry Landry's office, although he couldn't help the memories that washed over him as he walked down the familiar halls of the SGC. This had been his home away from home for almost ten years, and he knew this place like the back of his hand.
The memories were only a slight distraction to what he was really experiencing. Gallagher was in serious trouble and Jack worried that if he took on the kid's problems, he would be forced to face his own. But Hank Landry had called him personally to ask for his help and Jack figured it wouldn't hurt to just come out and talk to his clone.
Now that he was here and saw for himself the defeated, haunted look in Gallagher's eyes, he wasn't so sure that this had been a good idea after all. Jack remembered way too many times when he had been in the same boat, and working with his clone was bound to bring back those dreaded memories, but at the same time, he couldn't turn his back on him.
He grinned at Siler as he passed by, shaking his hand and asking about his family. They exchanged brief pleasantries before Jack continued on his journey to talk with the current commander of Stargate Command. He knew he was going to have to do some fast talking to get his clone out of this facility and Jack began to come up with several reasons why he should get the kid out of there before Mackenzie moved in.
He reached the General's office just as Hank did and Jack wondered why he didn't just go up to the observation room to talk to Landry instead of all the way to Landry's office. Hank seemed to realize what Jack was thinking, because he said defensively, "I'm worried about Gallagher, Jack. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't making a mistake in calling you."
"He's my clone, for God's sake!" Jack exclaimed in exasperation, "Which means we are more alike than anyone could ever imagine. I wouldn't have hurt him, if that's what you were worried about."
"I didn't think that at all," Landry insisted. "I'm not sure I agree with the notion of releasing him though," he added, getting right to the point.
Jack wasn't fooled. He had used the same technique himself when he'd wanted to steer away from the topic of his own guilty feelings. "He'll be better off away from the cell," Jack said, as he watched Landry walk over to sit in the chair behind the desk. "Trust me. He won't stop being a prisoner if you keep him locked up."
"And what happens when he lashes out at a stranger or someone he knows?" Hank asked, looking pointedly at Jack.
"I'll cross that bridge when I get to it," Jack responded stubbornly.
"Jack please," Hank sighed as he leaned his arms on the desk. "Put yourself in my shoes. He is a danger to himself and to others. I can't let him go free and then have to send out teams to drag him back here after he's tried to kill someone when he lapses into one of those flashbacks. I won't let it come to that."
"Neither will I," Jack said, knowing deep down that Hank was right. He looked down at the floor for a moment then back up at his subordinate. "Okay. I understand the need to keep him here, but we need to compromise on some things. First and foremost, because I will not settle for less, there will be no cameras or microphones or any other listening devices installed anywhere near us. No one will listen in on the conversations between me and Gallagher nor will there be any guards in the immediate vicinity."
"Now just a minute," Hank said, rising from his chair.
"Gallagher's identity is so highly classified, be glad that we included you in on it," Jack interjected. "What are the chances of others hearing about it through those devices you insist on having to monitor his every word? Teal'c can stay with me to help when things get rough," he added for good measure. "Gallagher trusts Teal'c, and Daniel, for that matter."
"I'll have the camera removed," Hank conceded. "But a guard will be stationed outside the room at all times. You just may need the help."
"Outside with the door closed," Jack insisted. All he needed was for one person to learn of something he did while he was in the Black Ops to really make life miserable for him.
"Agreed," Hank said. "I should warn you that Dr. Mackenzie has been screaming about this ever since I came up with the idea. He's not happy about a rank amateur coming in to do his job."
Jack grimaced at that news. "With all the time I've spent in sessions with that man, you'd think I would have learned a thing or two about getting someone else through this kind of stuff."
"In the mood he's in, I wouldn't push that particular button, if I were you," Hank said with a small smile.
"Understood," Jack agreed. "Do I have your word that there will be no interference from anyone, including yourself?"
"You have my word," Hank replied. "Under the condition that you come and give us regular updates on how he is doing and to confer with Dr. Mackenzie regarding his treatment."
"What?" Jack asked in disbelief. This was getting to be way too complicated for him to deal with. "And just how do I convince the kid to trust me if I am running to Mackenzie every time he tells me something?"
"Not every time, maybe just once a day," Hank said patiently. "You'll probably be glad for an excuse to get out of there anyway," he added. "Gallagher had to have been treated pretty badly for him to act like this. I know that there have been some dark days in your past, Jack. This may bring up some memories for you."
"Yeah," Jack conceded. "I'm aware of that. I'd like to get started as soon as possible. When will the camera be removed?"
"I'll get someone on it right away," Hank said. "In the meantime, I've arranged a meeting with Dr. Lam, Mackenzie and your old team members to meet with us in half an hour. They'll be able to bring you up to date with what Gallagher has said or done since we've brought him back. We can also talk about how we can make this work."
Jack just nodded. He wasn't as positive about this as he tried to portray to Hank, but he was determined to give it a try. He would have much rather done it outside the SGC, maybe at the cabin in Minnesota, but he knew Hank was right. Until they were absolutely, one hundred percent sure Gallagher didn't have a short circuit in the old brain cells, he was better off in a cell. It was just going to make Jack's job a little harder in getting the kid to trust him.
********************
Dr. Mackenzie was going to blow a gasket any minute now, Jack thought, as he stared at the psychiatrist who was sitting across the table from him. They were in the briefing room, along with the other members of this meeting, trying to come up with a game plan they could all live with. Jack tried to keep Gallagher's best interest in mind, as he was the only one who knew the kid well enough to represent him.
Mackenzie had made it known to all involved that this was highly irregular and that he was lodging a formal complaint right then and there. Jack rolled his eyes, then smiled at Carter when he caught her watching him. She, in turn, brazenly smirked at him, telling him in her own way that she could totally relate to his feelings of aggravation.
Hank spoke up at that moment to bring the meeting back to the main problem. "I've already arranged for the cameras to be removed," he said, when he finally got everyone's attention. "General O'Neill has agreed to spend time with Lieutenant Gallagher in an attempt to find out what happened during the last eight months on Hulmeshur. Teal'c, the General has mentioned that you may be helpful in staying with them in case the Lieutenant gets violent. Are you agreeable with this?"
"I am," Teal'c said, which of course was no surprise to anyone in the room, but Jack supposed Hank figured he should ask anyway.
"Carolyn," Hank continued, addressing the Chief Medical Officer of the SGC, "What can you tell us of the Lieutenant's health?"
"He was slightly dehydrated when he arrived at the SGC," Dr. Lam responded. "He also had several burns and some bruises on his legs, arms and torso. His blood work showed no traces of an alien substance and all other tests came back negative. For all intents and purposes, he is generally healthy."
"Any new scars or marks on him that would indicate some kind of trauma?" Jack asked, figuring Gallagher had to have been tortured pretty badly for him to lose it like this.
"There are a few new ones, at least ones that I've never seen or treated. I can only assume they were acquired on that planet."
"What kind of scars?" Mackenzie asked, apparently getting over his anger in order to figure out how to help the patient he wasn't going to get a chance to speak to again.
"Mostly burns, but there were a few that looked like he had been cut. Several scars on his back and chest indicate that he may have been beaten with a whip. Again, I can only speculate as Lieutenant Gallagher absolutely refuses to answer any of my inquiries about them. I get the impression that he doesn't trust me," she added sadly.
"What makes you say that?" Mackenzie asked, his eyes taking on the look Jack had always hated when he'd had to talk to the psychiatrist. It was the one that gave Jack the impression Mackenzie was just patronizing him. Mackenzie was probably trying to give a different impression, but Jack couldn't get past the impression he had come up with.
Dr. Lam obviously took the look the way Mackenzie intended, because she opened up to him immediately. "I don't know. It's just that I feel like he is waiting for me to do something to hurt him. He watches everything I do, as if he expects me to turn on him. I can't explain it. It's just the way he looks at me. Like he's sure I'm lying to him."
"Perhaps you remind him of someone he was acquainted with at Hulmeshur," Teal'c suggested.
"I agree with Teal'c," Mackenzie spoke up, causing Jack's head to swivel around to stare at him. "You may be able to use this information to get Gallagher to talk," he said to Jack.
Jack just nodded before saying, "I'll give it a try." He continued to stare at Mackenzie for a few more seconds before turning to Dr. Lam. "Is there anything else you think I may need to be aware of?"
"No sir," she said, shaking her head. "Other than the fact that he wants to get out of that cell in the worst way, he is in good health."
"Colonel Carter," Hank took control again. "You spent some time with him the morning after he arrived here. What are your observations?"
"He didn't say much, a few words here and there," Carter answered. "As he did with Dr. Lam, he refused to answer any questions regarding his imprisonment on Hulmeshur."
"What did you talk about?" Mackenzie asked. The psychiatrist had calmed down a lot, Jack realized, and he was glad the doctor had pushed past his anger to concentrate on Gallagher's problems.
"Mostly about my motorcycle and the naquadah-powered photon laser we had acquired from P3C-877. That was strange in itself," she said with a small smile. "Gallagher usually runs the other way when I start talking about scientific technologies."
"Techno-babble," Jack butt in with a grimace, then grinned when Carter rolled her eyes.
"Anything else?" Mackenzie asked.
"Well, he kept asking me why I was there," she said. "He seemed to think that there was some ulterior motive for me to spend time with him. I tried to convince him it was because I was worried about him and that I wanted to spend time with him, but I don't think he believed me."
"Why not?" Jack asked. He knew for a fact that Gallagher had some deep feelings for the Colonel. He and Gallagher had been one and the same, after all. He just wished he knew what had been done to his counterpart to cause him to act like this.
"I'm not sure," Carter responded. "I got the feeling that he was happy to have me there, but at the same time he seemed to be distant. I can't explain it. I just got the impression he was holding back on something."
"Probably trying to rid himself of the memories," Jack mused. He realized his mistake the moment he noticed everyone staring at him. Damn, he'd said that out loud.
Jack?" Daniel queried.
"Daniel?" Jack said to stall his answer.
"I told you calling him in was a good idea," Landry told Dr. Mackenzie, who was staring at Jack with a calculating look.
"Speaking from experience, General O'Neill?" Mackenzie asked.
Jack found himself glaring at Mackenzie before deciding that a change of topic was sorely needed. "Did you get a chance to spend some time with Gallagher, Teal'c?" he asked his friend.
"Yes," Teal'c responded with a nod. "He was asleep when I entered the cell. I used the restraints to tie him to the bed as instructed by General Landry, then sat with him throughout the night. He woke during the night from a nightmare, but as he was in the restraints, he did not need my presence."
"Did he say anything during his dream that may indicate what happened to him on Hulmeshur?" Jack asked, looking for anything that would help him in his quest to bring his clone out of this funk.
"He called out to a person named Taria," Teal'c responded, his features showing a flash of an emotion that Jack couldn't quite make out. "He also mumbled a few words I did not understand before he woke from the dream."
"Did you ask him who Taria was?" Mackenzie asked, as he made a note on the pad of paper he had in front of him.
"I did not," Teal'c responded. Jack had to smile at this response. Teal'c would never think to intrude on someone else's private thoughts. Too many years of serving Apophis without questioning the motives and thoughts of the snake, while hiding his own thoughts of disgust and his traitorous beliefs, had effectively trained Teal'c in dealing with the silence and unspoken words of others. It was the one trait Jack admired in his friend above all else.
"Were you there the next morning? What did you guys talk about?" Jack asked. He could only hope that Teal'c would give him something to work with.
"He did not tell me anything of the past eight months," Teal'c replied, dashing Jack's hopes. "We spoke of the Jaffa rebellion, as well as the golf excursions we embarked on during the time loop." This was said with a smile and Jack grinned back at his friend, remembering some of the other pranks he had pulled during the months they were stuck reliving the same day.
"Golf excursions?" Landry prompted, obviously forgetting the reason they were all in the briefing room in the first place. "I read the reports that you and Teal'c wrote about that time, but I don't remember the mention of a golf excursion."
"It wasn't important enough to include," Jack said, his grin turned toward Carter. He'd never told her and Daniel everything he did during that time, and it was better that most of the stuff he'd done was left out of his report. He couldn't count how many times he was glad that General Hammond, Carter and Daniel had no memories of the things he'd said to them as they'd relived the same day over and over again. Frustration usually tended to make him say some pretty hurtful things.
"What were your impressions of the Lieutenant's well-being, Teal'c?" Mackenzie asked to bring the topic back to Gallagher's problem. Jack knew part of the reason for the change of subject was because Mackenzie suffered total frustration himself when he had tried to get Jack to talk about his thoughts and feelings regarding the countless weeks he'd spent reliving the same day. The doctor was still mad about that, Jack thought with a great deal of amusement.
"He appears to be healthy, although I could tell that he was experiencing some discomfort with the temperature. He assured me that he was comfortable, but I noticed that he shivered at least once while I was with him."
"The temperature on Hulmeshur often exceeded 120 degrees Fahrenheit," Carter spoke up in an effort to explain this behavior. "I'm sure that after eight months of living there his body would have adjusted to the heat. This would explain why he was freezing when he was exposed to the temperatures we take for granted. We currently have the thermostat set at 90 degrees, which may be extremely warm for you General."
"I'll dig out my bathing suit," Jack said jokingly.
"Good thing there won't be any cameras in there," Daniel mumbled loud enough for all to hear. Jack glared at his friend, who in turn gave Jack an innocent look.
"What?" Daniel asked with a small smile. Jack just shook his head at him, then turned his attention back to Carter who was also smiling at the antics of the two men.
"Couldn't we just give him some sweaters to wear?" he asked.
"Yes, I suppose we could," Carter responded thoughtfully. "I'll see what we can come up with."
"We also have some thermal blankets for you to use if you think it may help," Dr. Lam spoke up.
"Anything would help at this point," Jack said, wondering, not for the first time, what he was getting himself into. "Your turn Daniel," he said, causing Daniel to look up from his doodling. "I know you. You spent some time with him, didn't you?"
"Don't mind me people," Landry spoke up huffily from his seat at the end of the table. "I'm just here to moderate and to make sure things run smoothly. Feel free to ignore the fact that I'm here."
"Okay," Jack said to the General before turning back to the archeologist. "Daniel?"
Daniel bit his lip in an attempt to hide his smile and Jack watched as Carter ducked her head to hide her own amusement at her commanding officer's expense. As much as Jack loved to see her smile, he knew that paybacks were hell, so he turned back to Hank to apologize for his words. "Only kidding Hank. I'm just anxious to get this show on the road. Did you have something to say here?"
Landry stared at Jack for a moment before saying, "No sir. I just want to make sure you remember who is in command of this base."
Jack couldn't help the surprise he felt at the gall Hank Landry displayed. Jack had been a part of the Stargate program long before Landry even knew it existed, not to mention the fact that he was Landry's superior officer. He scowled at Landry before saying, "Just as long as you remember who your boss is."
Landry nodded his head in acknowledgement to Jack's statement, then offered his own apology. "It goes without saying," he said, trying to smooth things over.
Jack accepted the words then turned to Daniel, who was now watching the two Generals with interest. "Daniel?"
"I did spend some time with Jack... I mean Lieutenant Gallagher," Daniel said. "I went in with Dr. Lam when she needed to get his vitals and I could tell he was wary of us being there. I'm worried about him, Jack. He was acting very strangely. He was walking on eggshells, like he was afraid of us or something."
"Or of what you represent," Jack said thoughtfully. Gallagher wanted out of there and the only way out was through the General. "Does he realize what's happening to him?"
"Yes, I think he does," Daniel responded. "He spaced out while we were there and when he realized it, he was worried that Dr. Mackenzie would put him in a mental institution." He sent an accusing glare toward Mackenzie before continuing, "He was telling us that he didn't like the quiet and..." Daniel stopped then, gesturing with his hands and shaking his head while trying to come up with the words he needed. "All of a sudden he pulled back from us, then stood up and stared at the door. He was shaking and I had to say his name a couple of times to get his attention. It was like he wasn't even in the room with us."
"He was telling us about the guards on Hulmeshur," Dr. Lam spoke up, suddenly remembering the incident. "He said the people living there were afraid of the guards and that they would resort to silence hoping they wouldn't be chosen."
"He told us the silence would be broken by the screams of the chosen," Daniel added softly. "He's in pretty bad shape, Jack. I hope you can help him."
"I will," Jack said with confidence. He wouldn't admit it, but he was just as scared as his clone was. He was afraid that he was going to face a terror that would change his whole life forever.
"We have the security tapes if you want to get a better idea of how he's acting," Landry spoke up. "He had only one other visitor besides Dr. Mackenzie, but because of Gallagher's identity, I wasn't sure if he should attend this briefing. I didn't know if it would be brought up," he added almost apologetically. "I can have him brought here if you'd like to hear his story."
"Who was it?" Jack asked tiredly. This was not going to be an easy assignment.
"Captain Gordon," Landry replied. "He was with SG-8 when Gallagher was taken prisoner."
"I can just imagine how that went," Jack said dryly.
"Not well at all," Landry said with a shake of his head.
"I'll wait until I've seen the video before deciding whether I need to talk to him or not," Jack replied. "Well Doc?" he said to Mackenzie, "You going to tell me what Gallagher told you?"
"You know that I am bound by my ethical obligations to keep that information to myself," Mackenzie responded dismissively.
"Yet you want me to tell you everything he tells me in confidence," Jack snarled, the irony of the situation pissing him off.
"You are not bound by the oath I..."
"Whatever," Jack ground out in irritation. "You'll just have to take my word for it that I'm telling you everything."
"You want to help him General O'Neill," Mackenzie retorted. "I'll take what you give me and work with that."
Jack wanted to hit the man because he knew he was right. Damned idiot, he fumed. One of these days he was going to show up the psychiatrist and get the best of him yet. It was just a matter of time - or years, he realized with a renewed sense of aggravation. "Anybody else have something they want to add to this before I go in there?" he asked.
"Just be careful," Landry said. "He's learned to fight like a wild man while he was on Hulmeshur."
Jack turned an amazed look toward the General. The man couldn't be that nave about Jack O'Neill, could he? Landry grinned back sardonically and Jack realized that Landry knew very well that Gallagher probably learned those moves long before the Asgard cloned him. "I can take care of myself," Jack admitted wryly, then smiled at the General before saying, "I can honestly say I taught him everything he knows."
Chapter 5
Jack Gallagher was pacing. He was nervous and he didn't even try to hide it from anyone. His counterpart had been gone for a couple of hours now after saying he would get him out of the cell, but Jack was worried that O'Neill was going to fail him on this. He was a prisoner and a likely candidate for the loony bin; he just knew O'Neill wouldn't be able to get him out of this hellhole.
He continued to pace even as he wondered if he was driving the people who were monitoring the camera crazy. He secretly hoped so. At least he wouldn't be the only crazy man on the base. He grimaced at the thought of being insane. He was terrified that he had finally given up, that Handar and his men had actually won. Don't go there, he told himself as he worried about losing it again.
Where was O'Neill? Surely it wouldn't take this long to convince General Landry that Jack was better off away from this cell. Jack continued to pace, finding some comfort in the movements. He had spent the last eight months working in the mines or the fields from daylight to dusk, not getting much chance to do anything other than toil at the tasks he was expected to complete. He was always too tired to do anything once the sun went down, although he did make time to enjoy Taria's charms when they had gone to bed. She was an attentive lover and he was glad for those times even as he cursed her for being the bitch she turned out to be.
He stopped pacing when he thought he heard the tinkling of her laughter. He'd always enjoyed hearing her laughter when he had first arrived in that place. No one really had anything to laugh about, considering the circumstances, but Taria was the type to enjoy life no matter what was thrown at her. She was thrilled when he was given to her as her mate, telling him that he was the only one who still had the desire to make jokes. He wondered now if she had ever loved him.
He looked around, half afraid he'd see her standing in the room. She was so pretty, he remembered. Her sky blue eyes had reminded him of Carter, even though she was much younger than the Colonel. Jack remembered the first time he saw her. She was talking animatedly with another woman and he was surprised to hear her laughter, sounding loud amidst the silence that enveloped that place. He was drawn to the laughter, but at the time he was more interested in finding a way out of there.
He smiled at her when she saw him watching her, then walked toward the outskirts of the camp he was being held prisoner in. He stayed well away from the fence, knowing from experience that it was electrified. There was a burn on his hand as a testimony to that fact. He walked along the fence looking for anything that would aid him in his escape. He knew that he would soon be rescued, but it didn't hurt to try to slip away in the middle of the night if he was given the opportunity.
He continued his search, then looked toward the camp when he heard the laughter that would eventually haunt his dreams. He smiled at her again thinking that he would definitely like to get to know her, just before he wondered if she could help him get out of there. Oh man, if he only knew then what he knew now.
He resumed his pacing as he reminisced about the early days of his imprisonment. Handar had summoned Jack to his quarters not long after his arrival to tell him in great detail all that was expected of him. He was expected to work on whatever they told him with no questions asked. They expected him to work and act like a slave, to never resist or balk when told to do something, and most importantly to never attempt to escape. There was nowhere for him to go, he was told, and the desert surrounding Handar's oasis was an unforgiving foe that would surely kill him if he did manage to get away.
Jack listened to all this even though he had no intentions of giving into any of their demands. Unfortunately, he had to learn the hard way that his intentions weren't always in his best interest. They had beaten him, subjected him to starvation and threatened to kill his mate if he so much as even thought of leaving their less than hospitable company. It was the thought of Taria's demise that kept him there, more so than the other threats. He had survived all of the above, but he couldn't be the reason for his lover's torture and death. He would never have been able to live with himself if he did.
Jack put a stop to his reminiscing when he realized that he was heading into territory better left untouched. He definitely didn't want to remember what happened to him when he and Taria did manage to make a run for it. He stopped pacing again and curled his hands around the bars of the cell, putting his head up against the cool metal, desperately trying to chase away the memories that were bubbling just beneath the surface. Oh God, he never wanted to ever go through that again.
He stayed that way for some time, calming himself with forced thoughts of fishing at his cabin in Minnesota. He hadn't thought of that place in awhile, he realized. He had given up on the thoughts of being rescued and had lived his days getting up when told to then retiring when told to, too tired to even think of anything but fulfilling his obligation of trying to get Taria pregnant to keep Handar and the guards off his back. They needed children to replace the older slaves and Jack was harassed daily because of his negligence in producing a future slave. It wasn't his fault, he reasoned. He was making love to her on a nightly basis and he knew he was more than capable of producing a child; at least he was before he was cloned. It didn't help when he had doubts about passing on his genes due to the fact that he was indeed a clone. Because of this, he didn't know who was more elated when Taria had finally become pregnant, he or Taria.
Jack grimaced when he thought about the punishment they'd both received after Taria had a miscarriage. It wasn't as if they wanted to lose the child, he thought with some heat. Taria had been so proud that she was finally going to be a mother and was thoroughly devastated when the bleeding wouldn't stop and even Jack couldn't console her, not that he really wanted to. He had lost any love he had for her when she had betrayed him to Handar and his guards.
He turned his thoughts back to Minnesota and happier times, wondering if he would survive this. It suddenly dawned on him that he had been remembering his imprisonment and he was still in the present. This thought caused him to smile as he let go of the bars and stepped back. He was getting better, he just knew it. Now all he had to do was convince O'Neill and Landry.
He went over to the bed to sit on it, wishing someone would come sit with him. Carter or Teal'c would keep the memories away with their talk of life, as they knew it. Daniel would even be a welcomed sight, especially if he brought a chess set or cards along with him. Anything was better than being left alone to dwell on his past.
O'Neill had promised to help him, he thought as he looked over at the door. Where was he? Jack hated waiting, it was never a good thing as far as he was concerned and O'Neill knew this. He sat there staring out at the room beyond the bars of his cell, wishing with all his might that the door would open.
He was shocked when it did, although he didn't get everything he wished for. It was only the airman bringing him his lunch. Jack stayed on the bunk while the airman and his companion went through the usual ritual of unlocking the cell door, setting the tray down on the floor, then locking the door before standing on the other side of the bars to wait for him to finish.
He sighed before getting up to go pick up the tray. Just once he'd like to see them do a dance or something to break up this monotony. He sat back down and began to eat, watching the guards warily as he munched on the sandwich. They seemed to be uncomfortable with his staring, which caused him to continue staring at them just for spite. Yep, he could get away with a lot in this place.
He finished his lunch, then drank the lemonade someone had thoughtfully put on the tray. It was something he had often dreamed of drinking during the long hot days he'd spent on Hulmeshur. Well, when he wasn't thinking about a cold, long neck bottle of beer.
The guards left him alone when he'd finally set the tray back down on the floor and shuffled himself back to the bed. This routine was getting old quick and Jack was really hoping that his counterpart would hurry up and get him out of this place. He lay down on the bed to try to relax, but he was too worried about impending nightmares to allow for that. The silence of the room, along with the heat and a full stomach, finally lulled him into sleep anyway.
*****************
Pain. Overbearing, suffocating pain was pulling at him, forcing him to give into the screams that ripped from his throat and destroyed the silence that permeated the room. It tore at him as he fought for breath and for relief. Neither was available to him at the moment and he bellowed out his agony at the men who were enjoying this way too much.
Jack struggled to sit up, but knew defeat as the clamp was tightened around his body, squeezing the air from his lungs while refusing to allow any air to come back in. He could feel the bones in his ribs crack under the strain while the pressure became unbearable and his vision dimmed due to the lack of oxygen. He was released suddenly, but he knew that once he was breathing steadily again the torture would be repeated. These guys knew what they were doing and Jack wished they would just kill him and get it over with.
"Jack!" one of the guards shouted at him. "Wake up! C'mon buddy, wake up!"
Jack opened his eyes to find O'Neill, Daniel and Teal'c standing over him. He panicked for a second, thinking that they were only illusions his mind had conjured up to help him deal with the torture, but relaxed when he saw the bars of the cell beyond his friends and remembered where he was. It had only been a dream, he told himself as his heart began to slow down, only a dream.
"O'Neill?" he asked, trying to wipe the cobwebs from his mind. Where'd he come from? He sat up suddenly when everything came back clearly to him. O'Neill was here to give him his freedom.
"Yeah," O'Neill said, looking a little relieved. "That had to be some dream," he added with enthusiasm. "Are you going to be okay?"
Jack nodded, watching for any signs of another betrayal. He had gotten his hopes up that he would be leaving this place. Would this latest dream cause them to change their minds?
"I am so ready to blow this place," he said in response. "When do we leave?" O'Neill didn't respond, but he didn't have to. Jack could see it in his eyes. "You son of a bitch," he raged, "You said you'd get me out of here."
"I said I would try," O'Neill responded as he tried to reason with Jack, but Jack couldn't let it go this way. He was going to lose it if he didn't get out of this rat hole.
"I can't stay here," he insisted. "I'm still a prisoner. I might as well be back on that planet."
"You still aren't one hundred percent ready to face the world, Jack," Daniel butt in, always the peacekeeper. "You're better off here than out there beating the crap out of everyone who reminds you of Hulmeshur."
"I can handle it Daniel," Jack insisted. "I haven't done anything to anyone since the other night. I'm much better and I'm ready to leave."
"What about what just happened here?" O'Neill asked quietly. Jack turned to look at him, wondering if he should ask what it was that just happened. He had been dreaming, surely he hadn't hurt anyone.
"It was just a dream," he said, worried now that it had been more than that. His friends didn't look like they had been hurt, but maybe... No, he wasn't going to give in to their wishes. He wanted out and he wanted out now. "Nothing more than that."
"It could have been." O'Neill just wouldn't give it up. Jack knew that his counterpart was going to try to smooth over his failure, but he couldn't let him. It was his sanity at stake here.
"You couldn't talk them into releasing me, could you?" Jack accused. He debated over the wisdom of hitting the bastard, but wisely realized it wouldn't do him a bit of good, not to mention give them one more reason to keep him locked up.
"No," O'Neill said. "I tried, but even I have to agree that you are better off here. I've made arrange..."
"That's easy for you to say," Jack interrupted. He wasn't interested in anything the General had to say anymore. He just wanted him to get him out of there. "It's not you sitting here."
"No it's not," O'Neill agreed. Jack waited for him to tell him that he had been kidding, but O'Neill kept his silence. There really wasn't much to say after that.
"Get the hell out of here then," he yelled, completely forgetting the fact that he was a Lieutenant and the man he was yelling at was a General. The worst they could do to him now was court martial him for insubordination. He just didn't care at that point.
"I came out here to help you and I plan to go through with it," O'Neill said with determination. "Teal'c and I will be staying with you to help you get through the worst of the memories..."
"I don't need your help," Jack snarled. He was just so tired of the disappointments he was destined to go through. He pulled his feet up on the bed and settled into the huddle he had become accustomed to since his arrival in this cell.
"Stop interrupting me," O'Neill demanded. "Just let me tell you what's on the menu before you tell me to go to hell."
"You mean I haven't done that yet?" Jack asked, his anger pushing him to say things he normally wouldn't have dared to do with a camera recording his every word. "Well, let me rectify that mistake. Go to hell General O'Neill."
The venom in his voice rattled O'Neill, Jack could tell, but at this moment in time he couldn't care less. He glared at O'Neill, who had sat down next to him, his face reflecting the rage that had settled in. "I've already been there," O'Neill snarled menacingly. "As you well know. And I'll tell you right here and now that the only reason I am letting you get away with that remark is because I can relate to the anger. I will not let it slide the next time, you understand me?"
"Considering the fact that I'm facing a lifetime in this cell, that particular threat doesn't have me shaking in my boots," Jack responded acidly. "You are just as bad as the others," he continued. "Tell me one thing, while doing just the opposite. I don't know - for some reason I thought you would be different."
"I tried Jack," O'Neill said, his anger easing up somewhat. "But I happen to agree with General Landry. We can't take the chance that you won't go ballistic on some poor unsuspecting soul."
"Fine," Jack said. "I get the point. I'm to stay locked up in this cell, waiting patiently for the day when I finally get over the urge to punch out this bed. What fun. So why are you still here?"
"I'm here to help you," O'Neill responded resolutely, although he was still angry. Jack hoped he would just take his anger and get out.
"We all are," Daniel jumped in.
"Help me? So when do we leave?" he asked stubbornly.
"When you are ready and not before," O'Neill responded just as stubbornly. "The camera will be taken out sometime today and Teal'c and I will be staying with you while you punch out the bed." He smiled when he said that, but Jack wasn't falling for it.
"I want out of here," he insisted. "We could go to the house. It may need to be aired out, but it would be better than this place. God Jack, don't make me beg."
He knew total frustration when O'Neill sadly shook his head. "We'll make do with this place," he said to placate Jack. "I'll even bring in some pictures to make it look like home."
Jack didn't respond. He had lost his freedom. All that work he had put into keeping his cool was for nothing. He put his chin down on his knees and stared out at the bars of his cell. Why had he even thought that O'Neill would be his savior? The man couldn't even free himself from his own demons.
"We'll get you through this Jack," Daniel said as he sat down on the bed next to him. Jack didn't respond nor look at his friend. He was so doomed. He continued to stare out at the bars while Daniel tried to get through his depression. "Whatever it takes, we are all here for you."
Jack closed his eyes as he heard Taria's voice filter through his thoughts, telling him that she would never do anything to hurt him ever again. He had wanted to believe her just as he wanted to believe Daniel and O'Neill, but he knew better. They had all betrayed him, giving him false hopes just to see him bleed when those hopes were dashed. Christ, how he hated them all.
"We will get you through this," O'Neill insisted, repeating Daniel's words as he stood up. "I'm going to go make the final arrangements for our sleepover. I'll be back in a little while."
Jack didn't move or even act like he'd heard him. He just sat there and stared out at nothing, listening to Taria's laughter ringing through his ears.
Chapter 6
"Well, that went well," Jack said, as he and Daniel walked down the hallway away from the devastated Lieutenant. They had left Teal'c to stay with Gallagher until such time as someone came by to relieve him.
Daniel didn't respond to Jack's words and Jack knew it was because they were both feeling Gallagher's disappointment. They walked the rest of the way in silence, both reflecting on the events of the last half hour.
They had gone to give Gallagher the news only to find him thrashing and screaming in his bed, lost in a nightmare that had to have been worse than anything Jack had ever experienced. He wondered what his clone had gone through to have him gasping for breath while yelling at the top of his lungs. Jack wasn't sure if he really wanted to know.
They reached the security room just as Carter came out. She stopped when she saw them, then suddenly found the floor extremely interesting, but not before Jack had seen the look in her eyes that told him she was trying not to cry. He wanted to pull her into a hug to tell her that everything would be all right. "Carter?" he said as he touched her arm. "You okay?"
"Yes sir," she said, as she nodded her head. "It's just that.., well he hasn't moved from that spot since you left him there and I just felt..." she sighed, then clarified what they were all thinking, "He is so devastated. I could feel his disappointment even through the camera."
"He'll be okay," Jack told her, hoping to cheer her up somehow. "I promise."
She nodded at him with a brave smile and he gave her a quick hug anyway. They walked into the security room and Jack immediately searched out the monitor that was focused on Gallagher's cell. Carter was right, Gallagher hadn't moved from the position Jack had left him in, but Jack felt a measure of calm when he heard Teal'c talking to him, trying to bring him out of his disappointment.
"O'Neill and I will stay with you until the time comes that you will no longer need us here," he heard Teal'c say. Gallagher didn't respond, which didn't surprise Jack in the least. The man was his clone, an exact duplicate of Jack, complete with thoughts and mannerisms. Jack knew very well why his clone was sitting there closed up in his own world. What he didn't know was what caused the man to shut down like this.
"I wish I knew what he is thinking," Jack said quietly as he watched his clone through the monitor. What had happened to him during the last eight months?
"Now you know how I feel," Mackenzie spoke up from his corner of the room. Jack turned toward the doctor in surprise. He had never thought about Mackenzie's side of the struggle to find peace for the tortured mind. Jack had always been too busy fighting off the memories and images that Mackenzie insisted he face. He felt a new sense of respect for the man he had always avoided talking to at all costs. "The hard part is getting him to tell you," Mackenzie added.
"All I can do is try," Jack replied. He turned back to the monitor and watched as Gallagher finally uncurled himself from the huddle and lay down on the bed to stare up at the top bunk, ignoring Teal'c, which was easy to do as Teal'c was so quiet Jack sometimes forgot he was in the same room with him.
"Just don't force the issue," Mackenzie said. "These things need to be handled with patience and understanding. I'm sure you have the understanding part down, but..." Mackenzie stopped and grinned at Jack.
"I can be patient," Jack insisted. "Isn't that right guys?" he asked his friends, who were suddenly looking very uncomfortable. Carter shrugged her shoulders while giving him a sheepish look and Daniel suddenly decided that a speck of dirt on his boots was very interesting. "Never mind," Jack said with narrowed eyes as he stared at the traitors he had thought were his friends.
"Stubborn is more like it," Mackenzie said with the calculating look Jack hated so much. He chose to ignore the look, which is another thing he had learned to do so well, and went back to watching the monitor.
"What is it I need to do to get him to stop fighting the memories?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He had spent way too many hours with Mackenzie facing his own demons to not have an inkling of what to expect.
Mackenzie was apparently thinking the same thing as Jack because he sat there quietly, waiting for Jack to answer his own question. Jack had been down this road too often to give into Mackenzie's tactics. He just knew the doctor would use whatever he said against him in the future. So he turned back toward the doctor to wait for the answer, giving him a questioning look to prompt him into responding.
It was a battle of wills, one that Jack and Mackenzie had fought more times than Jack liked to admit. Mackenzie used this technique many times in an effort to get Jack to talk, but Jack was often too stubborn to give in and Mackenzie would more often than not give it up and try something else. They both knew what Mackenzie was doing - he was resorting to silence knowing that most people would feel the need to speak up in order to fill the silence. Jack rarely felt the need to fill in the silence and when it came to Mackenzie, it was more of the desire to not give in than anything else. So he clammed up, as he always did, and waited for Mackenzie to be the first to break the silence. Jack could definitely be patient when he wanted to be.
Daniel fell for Mackenzie's tactics - hook, line and sinker or maybe it was because he just couldn't stay quiet any more, which was more than likely the case, Jack thought smugly. Daniel talked more than his ex-wife did when she was in a room full of her friends.
"Asking him outright won't get you very far," Daniel said thoughtfully. "I know. I tried that. He refused to answer any of my questions regarding that place," he continued, sounding like he was a little put out. "Extremely rude if you ask me."
"Nobody's asking you Daniel," Jack said with a grin as he put his hand on his friend's shoulder. Daniel responded with his own grin and a shake of his head as he realized who he was talking about.
"You always were a stubborn son of a bitch," Daniel grumbled good-naturedly.
Jack's smile grew wider, but he knew he needed to get back down to business. "What do you suggest I do?" he asked Mackenzie again, hoping the guy would just answer the question.
"Take it slow," Mackenzie advised, "But be firm in getting him to talk about his experiences. Since he has already resorted to flashbacks, he's bound to experience more, so make sure you keep alert in that respect. Keep asking him what happened to him, but be patient when he doesn't respond right away. You, of all people, know that he won't give in so easily."
"Yeah," Jack concurred, as he nodded absently. What was he getting himself into?
"General O'Neill," Mackenzie said with determination. "I want you to reconsider having the camera removed. I assure you that no one, other than myself, will have access to the monitor and the film."
"No," Jack said resolutely. "There will be no cameras or any other recording devices in that room. And that includes listening devices."
"General..."
"This is not up for negotiation," Jack snarled at the man. He wasn't about to let anyone in on his deepest secrets, especially not Mackenzie. Teal'c was the only one he trusted to keep those secrets safe.
"How can I be expected to effectively help you when I know that you will not be telling me everything?" Mackenzie countered. "That man's sanity is at stake here," he continued, as he pointed at the monitor. "I want to help him."
"As do I," Jack spit back at him. "But he will not tell me anything if he knows you are listening. Trust me on this."
"He doesn't have to know," the doctor said quietly.
Jack stared at the man for a moment, before asking in a deadly calm voice, "Is that what you do? Have hidden microphones recording your sessions with your patients?"
"No!" Mackenzie practically shouted, his anger finally making an appearance. "That isn't what we are talking about here. We are talking about that man's mental health. I can't help him if I don't know what's going on."
"You are just going to have to make do with what I give you," Jack replied smoothly. "No listening devices. Period."
Mackenzie just stared at him, but this time it was due to the defeat he was feeling. Jack knew it as sure as he was standing there. He waited while Mackenzie worked through his own disappointment, then nodded when the doctor growled at him, "I'll be waiting in my office for your reports." The psychiatrist then walked out of the room to leave them to make their final arrangements. Stalked out of the room is more like it, Jack mused.
"That went well," Daniel said to ease the tension that was still in the room. Jack nodded to let Daniel know he appreciated the effort, then turned to stare at the monitor that was showing him a broken man that could have just as easily been him. There was no denying the fact that Gallagher had been broken and Jack knew that he would probably have done the exact same thing had he gone through whatever it was that had destroyed his clone.
"Well, let's get this thing rolling," he said, as he turned to walk out the door. He wished he could feel as confident about this mission as he wanted to be.
**************************
He entered Gallagher's cell an hour later carrying a tray, followed by Carter and Daniel, who were also laden down with food. He glared at the two SFs who were standing just outside the door when he passed to let them know he had overheard their conversation, as they wondered what made Gallagher so special that General O'Neill came all the way from Washington to see him. Not to mention the cot, table and chairs that were being installed in the room outside of the Lieutenant's cell. The SFs had the grace to look chagrined and Jack decided to ignore their looks of bewilderment as he walked through the door.
Siler was on a ladder disconnecting the camera while Teal'c stood guard over the entire scene. Jack had to smile at Teal'c's actions. Teal'c liked Siler, as did everyone else on base, but he also had a close bond with Gallagher, who was sitting on the bed watching the goings on with a closed expression on his face. Teal'c must have decided that he would stand between the two if his help was needed in either picking Siler up off the floor in case he fell or being ready to deal with Gallagher in case he found himself in another flashback.
Teal'c bowed his head in greeting when they entered the room and Jack went over to put the tray down on the table. Daniel and Carter followed suit while Carter got busy getting the food ready for them all. Jack could almost feel like he was at home surrounded by his friends, if it weren't for the bars of the cell that had been left open now that a plan of attack had been determined. He had two sets of keys to the cell door just in case one got lost in the shuffle. That door was open now and was going to remain unlocked during the entire time, but it didn't hurt to have some keys around just in case.
Siler finished his task and quietly packed up his equipment and the camera to take with him when he left. Jack smiled at his friend before saying, "Thanks Siler. I do appreciate it. Hey, are you hungry?"
"No thank you sir," Siler said with a grin as he walked out the door. "I've already eaten."
Jack smiled after the Sergeant while Daniel walked into the cell to sit down next to Gallagher. "How are you feeling Jack?" he asked in an obvious attempt to reach his old friend.
"Good," Gallagher responded warily. He appeared to be sitting there without a care for what was going on around him, but Jack knew better. The guy was aware of every single sound and movement going on in the room and was trying to come up with a logical reason for the whole charade. Jack knew the routine just as well as Gallagher did and he was just a little fascinated to see himself from an outsider's point of view.
"We've brought all kinds of food," Daniel said. "Hope you don't mind that we're going to join you." This was said with a slight trace of pleading and Jack had to wonder about that even as he doubted his own ears.
"Sure," Gallagher responded. It was apparent to everyone that the man had gone back to the one syllable stage he had displayed when he first arrived at the base. Jack sighed inwardly as he realized, once again, he was in for a major battle.
"Well, let's get at it!" he exclaimed as he picked up a plate and began ladling food onto it. Daniel and Teal'c came over to join him, but Gallagher didn't move. "I know you are not expecting me to make you a plate," Jack said through a mouthful of his biscuit.
Gallagher got up at that point and walked through the door of his cell, watching Jack warily as if he expected to be tackled at any minute. This irritated Jack, as he had never given this guy any reason to make him think he would do something like that. He tried to hide his anger and must have been marginally successful as Gallagher walked up to him and grabbed the plate of food he had in his hands and said, "Thanks. I am a little hungry."
Jack nearly gave into his anger and hit the guy anyway, but he grinned instead when he heard Carter laugh, then saw Teal'c's smile. He shook his head at them all as he grabbed another plate to fill it up again, this time for himself. "Don't even think it Daniel," he growled, as he pulled his second plate toward his chest in a protective gesture when Daniel eyed it.
"I wasn't!" Daniel swore, as he smiled back at his friend. "I was looking to see what you had on it." This was said with an innocent smirk and Jack found himself backing away from his friend's sneaky grasp.
"Sure you were," Jack responded suspiciously. He put more food on the plate, then went over to sit next to Gallagher on the bed. "This is mine," he insisted as he pointed at his food. "You have your own."
Jack felt immense relief to see a smile appear on Gallagher's face as his clone nodded before taking another bite of the chicken he had in his hand. There was still some hope after all.
They ate their meal as they talked of days gone by. They were all careful to not mention anything that would even remotely remind Gallagher of his stay on Hulmeshur. This meal was meant to be a happy one and they were all determined to keep it that way.
Jack and Gallagher were quiet through most of it, although Jack did jump in to clarify matters when the memories painted him in a less than favorable light. And he couldn't resist the urge to retaliate by bringing up memories that even had Teal'c looking a little flustered. It was all in fun though, which is what they had intended from the start. The grueling test was going to start the next day if everything went their way.
Gallagher obviously didn't know the plan though, because he stayed quiet throughout the meal and Jack knew his clone was waiting for the inevitable and probably wondering when they were going to attack. Jack tried to tell him the game plan, but he wasn't sure if Gallagher was buying any of it. The man just sat there looking as if he was spooked and ready to run at the first opportunity.
Carter and Daniel left several hours later taking the empty trays and dirty dishes with them. They promised Jack that they were only a phone call away if he needed them and he smiled his thanks as he shooed them out the door. Gallagher was tired, Jack could tell, and he wanted the man to be ready for the next day.
Gallagher lay down on the bed while covering himself with the blanket. Jack had a hard time dealing with that blanket. He was wearing only his t-shirt and his desert khakis and he was still sweating. He knew he was going to be subjected to the heat, but Gallagher still acted like he was cold. Damn, Hulmeshur must have been sweltering.
They all settled down in the beds provided for them, Teal'c taking the upper bunk of Gallagher's bed, while Jack tried to get comfortable on the cot. He did have some qualms about Gallagher getting up and killing him while he slept, but Jack refused to use the restraints on his clone unless he absolutely had to. It was bad enough they were keeping him locked up in this jail. Because of this, he couldn't relax enough to fall into a deep sleep, although sleep did eventually take over.
He jumped up off the cot before he was even awake when someone called him a son of a bitch in a voice that would have raised the dead were they in a cemetery. Jack shook the sleep and cobwebs from his mind as he frantically tried to remember where he was and to figure out what was going on.
It was Gallagher who was doing the yelling and Jack realized the man was dreaming and not shouting at him. He hurriedly went over to sit on the bed next to his clone while Teal'c jumped down from the upper bunk to help out if needed. "Get away from me, you stupid son of a bitch!" Gallagher yelled, his rage apparent in his voice.
"Jack! Wake up," Jack pleaded, scared out of his mind at the rage being directed at the unseen foe. "C'mon. Snap out of it!"
Gallagher apparently didn't hear him because he began to whimper, which scared Jack even more than the rage. "Stop!" Gallagher demanded, his voice laced with pain and anger. "Please."
Jack had had enough of this and he grabbed Gallagher by the shoulders intending to shake him until he woke up. Teal'c yelled out a warning just before Gallagher's fist connected with Jack's chin, knocking him back off the bed and he landed on his backside when he lost his balance.
"Get the restraints," Jack ordered as he rubbed at the spot where Gallagher hit him. Teal'c had been way ahead of him though and was already trying to tie the man down. Jack got up and helped him to get the restraints in place, then sat down on the bed to wait for Gallagher to snap out of it.
Gallagher quieted down and Jack wondered if he had gone back to sleep. He pulled the blanket closer around his clone to ward off the trembling, but he realized that Gallagher hadn't been shivering because of the cold when he saw the fear in the man's eyes. "It was just a dream," Gallagher said defensively. "Nothing more. Just a dream."
Jack just nodded. He didn't know what to say to that. It was clear that Gallagher was fighting off more than the enemies in his dream. He was also fighting off the symptoms of insanity and Jack wished with all his heart he could just make everything better with the snap of his fingers. He gave Gallagher what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he sighed inwardly. He really did have his job cut out for him.
Chapter 7
Jack woke up the next morning looking into the tired face of General O'Neill. This sight brought back memories of the dream he'd had during the night that had him begging for mercy from the guards one moment and staring into the angry eyes of his counterpart the next. Judging from the bruise the General sported on his chin as he sat there staring at him, O'Neill had every right to be angry. Oh man, Jack thought, would this never end?
"What happened?" Jack asked as he stared at O'Neill's face. "Did you and Teal'c get into a fight?" He tried to smile as he spoke, but he was too worried about the truth to put a whole lot of effort into it.
"Nope," O'Neill responded as he sat on the bed. "You and I did though."
"Sorry," Jack replied, wishing he hadn't asked in the first place. He waited for O'Neill to say something or at least release him from his bindings, but O'Neill didn't move. He just sat there waiting for God only knows what. Jack decided to just wait for the General to make up his mind and he focused on the top bunk to keep his mind off the memories of the dream that woke him a few minutes ago. It hadn't been as bad as the one that caused him to punch out his counterpart, but it still made him cringe with fear.
"Well, it was worth a try," O'Neill finally said as he got up to walk over to the sink that was on one side of the cell.
"What was worth a try?" Jack asked, then nodded at Teal'c who came into view. "Will you release me Teal'c?"
"Yes," Teal'c responded, as he came over to unlock the bindings.
"Mackenzie always tried it, so I thought I would," O'Neill said as he brought over a cup of water, offering it to him when he had been released. "You know, the silent treatment."
"Oh," Jack said, as he felt the stirrings of a genuine smile creep up on him. "He does have that technique down pat," he added, the smile making him feel a little better. "You'll need to work on your delivery just a tad bit more, though."
"I'll practice on the look he has on his face when he tries that stuff," O'Neill said, grinning broadly at Jack. "Who knows, that guy may just find himself looking for another job."
"Not likely," Jack replied. He was glad that O'Neill didn't hold anything against him, but he was also worried about what was in store for them during the next couple days, weeks or even months.
"I'll be fine Jack," he said, hoping to convince O'Neill that all this was not necessary. "I just need to get away from here."
O'Neill just shook his head, as Jack knew he would. He was stuck here and he might as well get used to that fact. He sat back against the wall, leaning his head back to work on getting his thoughts together, but brought it back up in shock when O'Neill asked him outright, "Who's Taria?"
Jack didn't respond right away. He just stared at his counterpart in surprise as memories of his mate ran through his mind. He remembered her laughter and smiles on the day they were given to each other and of the nights of steamy, glorious lovemaking that eventually evolved into the obligatory `let's get this over with' attempts to produce a child by the time he was rescued. He didn't even know what had happened to her once the members of SG-3 walked up and grabbed him to take him home. Even now, he wasn't sure he cared.
"Jack?" O'Neill prompted with determination.
"My wife," Jack responded dully. It bothered him in some way that he didn't know her whereabouts or if she was still alive. She was, after all, his mate. The woman he shared a bed with, who made sure he ate even when he insisted he wasn't hungry. She knew of his distrust and hatred of her, but she still tried to make it up to him, to atone for the agony she had put him through. "Damned bitch," he muttered as he tried to shake off the deeper feelings he had for her. She had betrayed him and here he was falling for her charms when she wasn't anywhere near him. He was definitely one sick puppy.
"Your wife," O'Neill repeated. "I take it you didn't like her?"
"I didn't have a choice," Jack ground out angrily. "I was a slave, Jack. If Handar proclaimed she was my wife, then by God, she was my wife. She was pretty and I was strong - just imagine the children we would produce," he continued sarcastically.
He stopped speaking then and tried not to dwell on the woman who had destroyed him with just one decision. But she had played a major role in his life for the past eight months and the memories just seemed to slip out.
"And she `was' pretty," he added, feeling the anger slip just a little, as he remembered the beginning of their relationship. "She was the only one in that whole place who could find something to laugh about. She just seemed to light up the darkness of that place and I have to admit I was glad when she was given to me." O'Neill and Teal'c were just sitting there letting him talk and Jack found that once he had started he couldn't stop.
"She helped me through some bad times at first when I wouldn't give in to the demands of Handar and his guards. They had some pretty harsh punishments for people who fought against being a slave. I'd survived worse, though." This was said with a sardonic look at O'Neill, who nodded his head in agreement. They both knew all about pain and agony, having spent some time visiting with the Iraqis during his Black Ops days and with a certain Goa'uld who had a penchant for knives, acid and anti-gravity experiments.
"Taria kept me going at first. She was determined that I would live so that she wouldn't be left alone to face the life of a widow. That ain't a pretty life, let me tell you," Jack advised sagely. "I thought she loved me," he continued, his face darkening as he thought about her betrayal. "Guess I was wrong."
He was not going to go to that place in his mind, Jack resolved determinedly. No way in hell would he ever go through that again. He was working so hard on warding off the memories he had been leading up to that he flinched when O'Neill called out his name.
"What?" he asked gruffly, as he glared at the General.
"Hello? Where were you?" O'Neill responded sarcastically. "You were telling us about your wife, then you spaced out. Are you going to finish your story?"
"No," Jack replied. "I'm hungry. Where's breakfast?"
"Probably still in the kitchen," Jack said with a small grin. "What did you eat while you were in Hulmeshur?"
"Steak and eggs, with pancakes and real maple syrup," Jack replied acidly. "I was a slave, Jack. What did you expect?"
"I expect you to tell me everything that happened to you while you were there so that I can go back to Washington to get lost in the Pentagon again."
"No one's keeping you here," Jack responded.
"Oh yes you are," O'Neill said evenly. He was starting to get royally pissed and Jack knew the signs when he saw them, but he really didn't care at the moment.
"Okay. You win. I'll tell you everything. I woke up in the morning, worked all day in the fields or the mines, whichever they decided for the day, and I went to bed at night. Whew! Am I glad I got that off my chest. You can go home now."
Jack realized that he may have pushed just a little too hard when O'Neill stood up with a look of such intense rage that Jack thought maybe he was still back on Hulmeshur after all and he was facing Handar's wrath. He trembled a little at that thought, but held his ground as he glared back at his counterpart.
O'Neill didn't say a thing. Jack knew it was because he didn't trust himself to speak, but that didn't ease the sudden apprehension that sprang up in his heart. He was so dead.
"O'Neill," Teal'c said from his observation point. "Perhaps you should go and see if our breakfast is ready. I will stay here to keep Gallagher company."
O'Neill shook his head, then went over to the table and grabbed one of the chairs to pull it back into the cell. He placed the chair in front of Jack, then sat down on it as he faced his clone. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell us everything," O'Neill insisted, the anger hidden as he stared at Jack with an emotionless expression. "Start talking," he demanded.
"I've got nothing to say to you," Jack replied.
"Is this the way you behaved while you were being held a slave?" Teal'c asked. Jack looked at him in surprise. What was this? The good cop/bad cop routine? Teal'c wasn't the type to pry, yet here he was getting up close and personal.
"Yeah," Jack responded. He continued to stare at Teal'c, daring him to ask something else. Teal'c just stared back stoically, which was worse as far as Jack was concerned. What was that guy thinking?
"Were you punished for your behavior?"
Jack didn't respond right away. He was surprised that Teal'c would push the issue and he could tell that O'Neill was surprised by the Jaffa's question as well. "Yes," he finally responded, wondering what Teal'c was getting at.
"Tell us what punishments were a |
|