Chapter One.
Author: Izure Angel
Summary: Sam is injured in a car accident.
Genre: S/J romance, angst, drama, some humour.
Disclaimer: Stargate and its characters are not mine. I just hijacked them for a while and screwed with their minds and lives. I'll have them back in one piece... more or less.
Authors Note: This is told from various points of view, and is an experiment with writing in the first person. I know I haven't got the characters right, but please bare with me and I'm always grateful for advice!
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SAM:
I try not to listen to the argument, but it gets into my head, pounding its way through the headache that already rages there. So I snap.
"Daniel, it doesn't matter whether Colonel O'Neill agrees with your views on the Frevian belief in the afterlife or not. No matter what you say he's still going to keep going at you because THAT'S what this is about, not what happens after you die."
Daniel looks up in shock, as does Jack, and both are looking at me. I stalk on ahead up the path, realising what I just did and how petty and stupid it sounded, but right now not caring about anything beyond the thought of getting home and going to bed. The treaty we just negotiated with the Frevian Governor has taken seven days to sort out, seven days of tedious negotiations with power-mongers who had picked over every little inaccuracy and twisted it to their own ends. Last night had seen the close of negotiations, relatively meaning a small celebration had been held. Actually meaning a room full of the same power-hungry bureaucrats making snide remarks hidden beneath layers of simpering courtesy and nauseating politeness and topped with a drink called 'Altheum' that was supposedly non-alcoholic, but packed a wallop like a bottle of Black Douglas. Jack drank five glasses of the stuff with no effect. Daniel had fallen over a table after the first and spent the rest of the night giggling and swapping jokes with a religious leader, and Teal'c had, of course, refrained with a viable excuse.
As far as I remember, I only had two glasses out of politeness. I DO remember feeling a little weird, but after that I've got one long, terrifying blank until I woke up this morning in our suite, stiff and sore and with a headache that could kill a person. And the trek back to the Stargate seems to be taking a lot longer than it should be.
Thankfully as I round a bend in the track I find myself before the five-foot ring nestled in the green trees. I dial the coordinates for home and bed, and the grating of the ring moving into place and locking in the coordinates that sets a fire storming through my head. As the gate snaps into being the others round the bend. Jack and Daniel are still sharing astonished looks as we climb the dais and step through the event horizon.
General Hammond is standing at the base of the ramp. "How'd it go, people?" he asks.
Jack gives a haphazard salute. "It was... long, sir. Got to have a nice little party when it was all done, though. Do you think our agreement to ally with the Frevians will include access to beverages...?"
"We succeeded in our mission, GeneralHammond." Teal'c re-states. "The Frevians have agreed to aid us in our fight against the Goa'uld."
"Excellent." Hammond replied, leading us out of the gateroom and down the hallway. "I believe you are all scheduled for some downtime."
"That's right, sir!" Jack chirps, looking ecstatic at the thought. "Anyone up for some fishing?"
I wish he would stop speaking. I never realised how loud his voice is. To tell the truth, hell, for once I'm actually looking forwards to some leave.
"Major Carter?" Hammond turns to me, and I flinch instinctively. "Are you alright? You look ill. Maybe you should have Dr Fraiser check you out."
"I'm alright." I say, thickly. "I'm just tired."
"After all the NEGOTIATING," Jack adds, glancing in my direction with that deadpan look that says he means more than he's saying. "Carter consumed a little too much liquid gold."
Hammond frowns. "Are you sure you're feeling alright? Dr Fraisier is still here."
"I'm fine." I say, trying to act as if every word isn't shaking the foundations of the building and that I am, in fact, standing on a solid floor. "I just need some rest."
We arrive at the elevator and Daniel keys the button. Hammond nods. "Well, if you're sure. I'll see you all in four days."
The movement of the elevator does nothing to calm my stomach, which is convinced that any food I consumed last night no longer needs to stay there. I press back against the wall and try to avoid clamping my hands over my ears to block out the sound of the damn fluorescent lighting. Jack is now regaling Daniel with the joys of fishing and his cabin in Minnesota, and pointedly ignoring Teal'cs comments about the lack of fish caught when he had accompanied Jack last time.
We reach the blessed top floor and I tumble out of the elevator with joy at being on solid ground once more.
Jack goes one way, having failed to convince either Daniel or Teal'c to join him in Minnesota, as the other two head the other way. I look around for my car. It is night here on Earth, something that is hard to adjust to after the bright morning sunshine on P3X925, or Frevia Four. The night is cold, and I pull my jacket tight against the wind that has picked up. The trees toss their leaves about in a swaying dance as I make my way across the brightly lit car park. I slide into the car and pull the door shut.
I flick the ignition once. The engine kicks over, then dies. Once more. The engine makes a grinding sound, but fails to start. I slap my hands against the steering wheel in frustration. As if on cue, specks of rain begin to mark the windscreen, making my day just that much better.
I rest my head on my crossed arms. My head pounds with a headache, and I'm incredibly tired. I'm also two hours drive from home.
Someone taps on the window, and I jump in fright. The Colonels face appears. I closed my eyes, calming my heartbeat as I wind down the window.
"Car won't start." I say thickly. "I thought you left, sir."
"Actually, I just needed some air. Damn bureaucrats seem to make me feel queasy. Come on," he motions. "I'll give you a lift. Unless, of course, you'd rather stay here the night."
"Actually, I think I could sleep anywhere right now." I say with what smile I can manage. "But thanks."
I lock my car, grabbing my bag and laptop carry case, then follow Jack back through the car park. His car is comfortable and cosily warm. I settle into the velour seat and feel as if I will never move again. "Are you okay?" he asks.
I shake my head, sending things tilting at crazy angles. "Just tired. Its been a long time since I had a decent sleep, and that stuff didn't help. I'll just be glad to get home."
"I know the feeling." Jack reverses the car out of the park, sliding a ticket into the machine and driving through the exit as the barrier raised, then pulling out onto the road. "That guy was hitting on you, you know."
"What guy?" I ask, frowning. I don't remember any guys.
"Senator Mela... bola... sen." he enunciates.
"Senator Melabinsan?" What's he talking about? I remember talking to him last night, but he certainly wasn't HITTING on me. At least... "He was not." I mutter. "He was talking to me."
Jack nods, saying nothing but accelerating hard. I feel myself pressed back in the seat. I had never liked Jacks driving habits- a car for him is not a means of conveyance from point A to B, but rather a means of getting there as quickly as possible.
"Daniel seemed to be enjoying himself." I break the silence.
"Daniel made a new friend. They spent the night discussing the afterlife." He makes a snap lane change, pulling out around a late logging truck. "Which he then tried to convince me was incredibly interesting."
I'm not going to apologise for snapping, I tell myself, busy preventing my hands from clenching to white knuckled tension. Instead I focus on the passing dark silhouettes of the trees. THAT GUY WAS HITTING ON ME... admittedly, I'm flattered, though a little uneasy. The senator is older than me by about five or six standard years, but quite good looking. "What did you mean, my negotiations?"
"Senator Mela-bina-whatsits." He grins. "Took quite a fancy to you."
I shake my head, trying to curl up on myself. "This is the bit I cant remember, isn't it."
Jack does a good job of keeping the smirk of his face, though he does look as if he's swallowed something nasty. "Don't worry, Major. I make it a priority," Now he's smirking. "You know, to make sure none of my subordinates get laid during missions."
Oh, God. I think I'm going to be sick.
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JACK:
Sam looks miserable. To be expected, I suppose, but still. I've never seen her drunk before, and I'll make sure it's a while before I let her live it down. If ever.
Of course, I won't tell her about the pulling that sleazy senator off her and smacking him one in the jaw so hard he was spitting teeth and blood. I won't tell anyone about that. I may have jeopardised the treaty, but frankly, I don't care. Safety of my team first and all that.
Hell, who am I kidding? Safety of CARTER first. Because I wasn't smacking out the priest Daniel was getting all giggly with, was I? And yet it took Teal'c to pull ME off Mela...lina... whatever.
I sigh, giving Carter a sideways glance. She's gazing out the window, and looking decidedly sick and worried. I should say something to put her at ease, but I'm not good at this stuff. I never know what to say.
"Look, Carter," I start, but she turns to face me and... shit, that better be the dim light. Carter doesn't cry, so those cant be tears making her eyes shine like that. But I don't get to look again, because she's facing away from me just as quickly.
Shit.
"I'm sorry." I say, sounding lame and knowing it. "I shouldn't have said that crap. You know, it wasn't so bad. You had too much to drink, and-" Oh, shut up, I tell myself. You're only making things worse.
I concentrate on driving. I drop my speed back a bit because my attention is now not fully on what's ahead, more on what's right next to me. Carter must be feeling pretty damn bad right now, what with the hangover and all. So I stay silent, biting down all the niceties that come into my head, knowing they won't make her feel any better. The mountain road curves from side to side, steep cliff on the left, sharp drop on the right. I've driven this road a million times, know the way by heart.
I'm just feeling nearly as bad as she must be right now. She doesn't remember, and she wasn't exactly in a clear state of mind at the time. At the time she was sticking her GODDAM TONGUE DOWN HIS THROAT--
I'm not. I'm not jealous. I'm simply worried about her. I'm just glad I was in the right place at the right time; that is, following them when that creep led her out of the audience chamber, out to the hallway. Finding him pressing her up against the wall with one hand around her waist and the other in her hair... and she... before I...
Shit.
This isn't helping. What I really need to do is get up to the cabin. Then I can relax, forget about all this stuff for a while. Catch some fish. Or not.
"Sure you don't want to come fishing?" I say at last.
She smiles, I think, but her voice is kinda shaky, which isn't good. "I just want to sleep."
"Got a good bed in the cabin." I kick myself when I realise what that sounds like. "I mean, I could take the couch..."
"I know what you meant, Jack." Another smile, and wait, did she just call me Jack?
I take the next corner wide, speeding up again.
"I don't know." she says at last.
Okay, it's a maybe. I won't press the point, because I don't need her to know that my heart speeds when she says that. Because she's my subordinate. I do not want to get her up to the woods so that I can show her she doesn't need scum like Mely-dooly and non-alcoholic alcohol to-
SHIT!!
Another car- and trees. Yank the wheel left then right, but it doesn't matter because I'm too damn slow. And the other car is there, and I mean RIGHT FRIGGING THERE and Carter yells, a short, strangled sound. Glass breaks without a sound because suddenly everything is pure silence while the world shatters around us. Tiny granules of safety-glass sprinkle like rain and I snap forwards in my seat. The seatbelt cuts into my forwards motion, snapping me back, flinging me sideways.
And a sharp edge pokes into me, something that shouldn't be there is now there. Another car is right there, and its pushing the door into me, and sliding the car across the rain-soaked road. Dark trees whip past in the white glow of headlights as we spin, then with a slight jolt we are sideways and the cloudy dark sky is the left window while the trees fall over horizontal.
And I'm dead.
Aren't I?
"Carte..." I try to say, but there's something in my mouth that chokes off the words. I cough, and again, and I feel warmth trickling down my chin. "Carter? Carter?"
I shake my head to clear my vision, but all that does is slow the frame-rate of the signals from my eyes to my brain. Everything is startlingly clear, but like a computer game on high resolution graphics when your hard drive is too full, it moves jerkily. It's too fucking dark in here.
Okay, okay. Think, Jack. This should be easy. First thing is to get away from the car. Petrol tank leaking equals great big whopping fireball tearing through bone and flesh and ending what isn't too bad a life real quick. No. First thing is getting out of car. With self dangling from seatbelt while car is on side, no easy task. And when every movement seems to be taking longer than it should, that means I might be outta here by, oh, tomorrow?
I ease my hand down to the seatbelt release. Jeez, that hurts! Its like I've got shards of glass stuck in my wrist. I grit my teeth and hiss with pain as I push the button. The seatbelt snaps back, and leaves me to fall against the shattered windscreen and mangled dashboard, sliding down towards the other end of the car. A dark shape in the passenger seat, unmoving. Carter's shape.
Not moving isn't good. Okay, okay. Carter, I'm gonna get you out, okay? I think I said that, only I don't know because I think my hearing is gone. I manoeuvre myself around, bracing my foot against the seat so that I'm facing her. She's slumped against the window, which is now pressed against the leaf-littered ground. Blood streaks her face in dark rivulets, and her eyes are closed, her hand curled up against her cheek like she's sleeping. I check for a pulse, but my hands are shaking so badly I cant feel anything anyway.
I unclasp her seatbelt, ready to try and make good on my promise to get her out of here. But what if she's got spinal damage? Doc Fraisier's told me time and time again that moving a person with spinal damage can be dangerous. If not fatal. Shit. Shit shit shit.
Janet.
Where's my phone? Where's my pocket gone? Ah. Okay. Number... shit, I cant for the life of me think of the number. Thank the Lord and whoever invented speed-dial. I garble something to the administration, and something else to whoever I get through to. General Hammond, Doc Fraisier, God. Right now they're all one and the same, and by the time any one of them reaches us Sam could already be dead. I cant even see what's wrong with her, how bad she's hurt. I stroke her blonde hair back from her lifeless face.
Somewhere in my brain is a little area that is totally isolated from the rest of me, a tiny little space where no emotion exists, no adrenaline, only pure, uninhibited rational thought. That little part of my brain has saved me time and again. I love that little part of my brain. It allows me to kick the shattered sagging windscreen outwards, where it flops to the ground still held together. I squeeze myself through the crumpled window and onto the ground, which is where I realise that the world is the wrong way up. I nearly fall over as I stand. Rain drenches me instantly and I don't notice. Because somewhere down the slope something is burning brightly, a huge flame of orange and ruby throwing sparks into the air and billowing smoke where the rain hits it. Because punctured petrol tank equals fireball providing flickering light by which to see Sam lying motionless and bleeding, and my not being able to do a thing about it except hold her hand and tell her help is coming.
Help comes in the form of Doc Fraisier herself, heading a team of medical staff that swarm the site. I'm still holding Sam's hand when Janet mouths that I'm obstructing the medical team and can I move, goddammit, so they can cut her free of the wreckage. Then she is on a stretcher, strapped tight and an oxygen mask is settled across her face, catching a strand of her blond hair beneath the rim. Red and blue lights, and people speaking without making a sound. A hand on my shoulder and a wad of tissues pressed into my hand before I realise that my own face is wet with Sam's blood and my tears, unknowingly shed and unseen in the rain.~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I know, long chapter. I'll put up the next chapter if this gets any reviews. Constructive criticism always welcome!
~*IzureAngel*~