Fear This
Author: BadgerGater
Email: [email protected]
Category: Angst, humor
Summary: Even a brave man must fear something
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions; all the powers that be, not me; This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement intended. The story is the property of the author and may not be posted without the author's consent.
Author’s Note: This one’s for Margo… she knows why….
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Jack O’Neill could feel his heart pounding. His throat was bone dry, his mouth as arid as the sands of Abydos. He kept his hands stuffed into his pockets so no one would see them shaking.
When she came for him, he followed numbly, unwilling, but having no choice. O’Neill walked behind the torturer’s messenger, down the long hallway, past room after room of the damned. He tried not to look in, tried not to see the other victim’s as they lay supine upon the place of their torture, tried not to see the gleaming, metallic instruments and imagine what horrors they could perpetrate upon vulnerable, tender human tissue. It was bad enough that he could hear the sounds, the grating, painful sounds, and the smells...
“Here.” The white clad woman pointed him into one of the torture chambers.
‘Courage, O’Neill,’ he reminded himself. ‘Be brave.’
For a moment, he wished his teammates were there, by his side. Always before, when he’d faced the un
-faceable, they’d been there with him, in spirit, if not in body.But not this time.
This time, he was alone.
Part of him was glad they weren’t here because he was afraid he might shame them, afraid he might beg the torturer to stop, might plead for respite… and that was something he never wanted his team to have to witness, to see their leader reduced to terrified pleas for mercy.
‘Don’t think, Jack, just do what you must,’ he ordered his own failing will.
He’d survived worse, he reminded himself. This couldn’t be as bad as the Iraqis, as Ba’al, as those damn pain sticks… but he couldn’t be sure.
He sat down, the woman tilted the seat back, trapping him, prone, helpless and vulnerable.
The woman smiled down at him, a demonic gleam in her eye. “Comfortable?”
“Yeahsureyoubetcha.” What a stupid question! Who could be comfortable in a place like this.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised.
Crap. Making him wait, anticipate, conjure up more images of the terrors to come, more time for his body to imagine what was about to happen, what horrors awaited him. He wanted to bolt out of the chair and run, but he knew it was futile. They'd just keep sending him back, always back, until he yielded and let them...
‘Oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God,’ he chanted silently.
Do something, keep the brain occupied, so he couldn’t think. Recite the book of regulations. Shit. He didn’t know the book of regulations.
What would Daniel do? Daniel would recite the list of Mesopotassium Gods or something. But he didn’t know the Mesopotassium gods.
What would Carter do? Carter would define pi to the last number… shit, he didn’t even know the first number. All he knew about pi was pumpkin and cherry and chocolate cream.
Teal’c, now there was someone who would understand. Teal’c would recite… crap, he didn’t have a clue what Teal’c would recite. Probably he'd just stare into the flames of a hundred candles and say nothing, nothing at all, deep in his kel no read thing.
Don’t panic. Keep your cool. Hold onto your horses. Spit into the wind. Fight the good fight. Remember the Alamo… crap, remember something, anything, just don’t let yourself think…
His gaze drifted over to the small silver tray that sat nearby, his brown eyes growing huge as he considered the tools of torture that lay there. Small, and so innocent looking, if you didn’t know…
Don’t hyperventilate. Don’t asphyxiate. Don’t faint. Don’t… don’t…. don’t…
At last, he heard footsteps approaching.
His sense of dread rose to new heretofore unreachable heights.
“Sorry you were kept waiting so long, Colonel O’Neill…” The man took a seat beside Jack. “Now open wide…” the dentist picked up the instruments. “And I promise, this won’t hurt a bit….”
(((THE END)))