Title: A Hell of a Day
Date: August 18, 2000
Status: Complete
Author: Jmas
Category: angst, h/c
Rating: PG
Email: jmasg1@bellsouth.net
Archive: Stargate Fan, Heliopolis, Belle, Place of Our Legacy
Spoilers: Jolinar's Memories, Devil You Know
Summary: In the aftermath....
Author's note: This story first appeared in volume 1 of the
zine Circ Kakona, fond thanks to Tracy for permission to post
it now.
Disclaimer: The characters mentioned in this story are the
property of
Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa’uld
and all other
characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together
with the
names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property
of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright
Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership.
This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights
and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the
story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the
author.
A Hell of a Day
By
Jmas
Acrid smoke tore into his lungs; breathing had become a painful
necessity. Even at rest, the burning sensation never ceased,
a constant reminder of their current location, deep in the
bowels of the nearest approximation to the universal concept
of Hell Martouf had ever known. Looking at the gaunt, rather
shell-shocked faces of his companions he was certain he'd never
seen a more desperate looking group.
‘Might that have something to do with that aforementioned
location?’ Lantash's mental tones were dry and uniquely
sarcastic in a way Martouf had come to know and often appreciate,
but sometimes despise. Lantash had a singular talent for cutting
through the unimportant details of a given situation.
‘Hush, Lantash. I know they have good reason to look
this way.’
‘No doubt 'we' don't look much better…’
‘No doubt…and what are 'we' doing about it?’
‘Working on it, Marty, working on it….’
Lantash 'voice' was filled with laughter at the nickname O'Neill
had so recently applied to Martouf.
‘Don't call me that…’
The sensation of laughter became even stronger. ‘As
the humans would say, "loosen up."‘
Martouf just shook his head; long experience had taught him
arguments with Lantash rarely resulted in victory for him.
Lantash possessed far too much knowledge concerning human motivation,
especially as it concerned his host, to lose many debates.
Martouf let his attention wander away from his internal discussion
to observe the others with him.
Samantha was grim-faced; eyes focused inward, her heart obviously
as weary as her body. Her arms tightened occasionally around
her father, reassuring herself and Jacob of their determination
to survive this place. Jacob was barely holding on, his own
symbiote, Selmac, injured beyond the ability to do more than
keep itself alive, leaving Jacob to his own extremely depleted
energies. Martouf was sure Selmac had not reached such a point
easily. The Tok'ra’s eldest had become very fond of Jacob
in a very short time, admiring the Tau'ri's stubborn resolve
and innate sense of justice. Jacob had quickly become as respected
among the Tok'ra for his own unique contributions as for his
venerable symbiote. Martouf knew a blending as beneficial to
both would be nearly impossible to replicate.
Colonel O'Neill was blearily attempting to focus eyesight
obviously disinclined to cooperate. It seemed to Martouf the
human commander had only just realized the third member of
his team was missing.
"Daniel?" came the hoarse question.
"Taken by Apophis," Martouf whispered back.
O'Neill's eyes closed in confusion. "What's he want from
Daniel?"
Martouf shrugged his shoulders helplessly. " Samantha
seems to know, she did not share it with me."
‘And doesn't that tell you something, my friend?’ Lantash's
tone was gentle, yet probing. Martouf knew his symbiote had
difficulty accepting the complexity of Martouf''s feelings
on the subject of Samantha Carter.
"Oh," O'Neill nodded, still not looking up. "So,
has he gotten anything out of any of us?"
"Not from either of us. You?"
O'Neill started to shake his head, apparently thought better
of it and sighed a negative instead.
"Daniel won't give him squat…"
Martouf wondered at the certainty in O'Neill's voice, his
faith in the gentle academic. Martouf had never quite known
what to think of the young scientist. Dr. Jackson had always
been the unknown within the Tau'ri equation as far as the Tok'ra,
and Martouf himself, were concerned.
O'Neill and Teal'c were warriors, their motivations clearly
understood. Samantha was uniquely soldier and yet quite feminine
female, counter-balanced by her unique bond with the Tok'ra
resulting from her blending with Jolinar. But Dr. Jackson was
an enigma even Jacob Carter could not explain to Martouf's
satisfaction. ‘And of course you are so easily satisfied…’
Martouf pointedly ignored the mocking tones of Lantash, reminding
his symbiote that Daniel Jackson was an academic, someone who
had formerly dedicated his life to learning.
‘They killed his wife, Martouf…They kidnapped
her, kept them apart for nearly three years, and then Teal'c
had no choice but to kill her to save Jackson's life. Tell
me again that you don't understand how he came to despise the
Goa’uld…’
Martouf shook his head, earning him a strange look from O'Neill.
The human obviously had not witnessed many Tok'ra/host conversations.
Martouf raised a hand in apology. "Forgive me, Lantash
was offering an opinion concerning Dr. Jackson's motivation
for being a part of your team. I must admit he intrigues me."
O'Neill raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the iron bars. "I
can't imagine why, Marty. Daniel is a vital member of this
team. We need him to keep us balanced, to remind us to do the
right thing."
Having witnessed some of Daniel's mediation techniques, Martouf
understood that facet of the young scholar's personality. "He
is quite intelligent, obviously, though not particularly wise
to antagonize Apophis."
O'Neill smiled at the reminder of the young man's sullen effrontery
in the face of Apophis' anger earlier that day. "That's
not a question of wisdom, Marty. Antagonizing the Goa’uld
is part of the job description.
“Is it as simple as revenge then?”
O’Neill’s head snapped up quickly, his brown eyes
flashing brief anger before settling into reflection.
“No…no. There’s absolutely nothing simple
about Daniel, Marty. He joined us to find his wife; there was
never any question of that. He hates the Goa’uld…again,
no doubts there.” O’Neill smiled sadly.
“After that…it gets complicated, or rather, more
complicated. Daniel is complicated…. He thinks way, way
too much. He feels way too much. Cares…more than anybody
ought to for the sake of staying sane.”
O’Neill’s eyes searched the darkness beyond the
bars holding them prisoner, as if he could see out of the pit
and across the distance to where Apophis was no doubt ‘questioning’ his
missing friend.
“He hates the Goa’uld,” O’Neill repeated
softly, meeting Martouf’s eyes once again. “But
he hates himself even more for feeling that way. He takes the
high road on instinct…damned irritating most of the time….”
Martouf knew his confusion showed clearly on his face, O’Neill’s
words sounded almost angry.
“It bothers you?”
O’Neill nodded, shifting to ease the pressure on his
injured leg. “Not the way you’re thinking, but
yeah, it bothers me. It bothers me to watch him tear his heart
out over things that can’t be changed. It bothers me
to see him change because of what we do…but don’t
think for a minute I’d want him anywhere but with us.
Who else would care enough to make sure that light stays alive?”
Martouf was certain he was no more enlightened than he’d
been at the beginning of the conversation, but he nodded anyway,
understanding somehow that O’Neill needed him to comprehend
his words.
Dr. Jackson’s voice was heard then, cursing softly as
he was pushed along the passageway to the door of their cell.
O’Neill tried to rise, before remembering his leg wound.
Martouf waved him back, rising to meet Dr. Jackson as he was
pushed roughly through the cell door. Martouf took the young
man’s arm gently, noting that he looked more than a little
dazed and the skin along his right cheek was abraded and already
bruising. Martouf carefully lowered Dr. Jackson to a sitting
position opposite O' Neill.
Martouf sat on his heels beside the obviously shaken young
man. Despite the fixed gaze that spoke of exposure to Sokar’s
blood, or possibly deeper injury than was readily apparent,
Martouf was impressed by his calm demeanor as he related the
things he’d overheard while with Apophis. Even through
the exhaustion, Martouf could see a slight expression of satisfaction
as the academic revealed the communication device he’d
managed to bring back with him.
O’Neill grinned broadly, directing a pointed glance
at Martouf.
Dr. Jackson was indeed a very complicated man.
………………..
Things moved quickly after that.
Contact with Teal’c revealed much had happened in the
time they’d been out of touch. More than they could have
imagined as it became clear that the Tok’ra representative
with him had fired a bomb into the depths of Naetu. A bomb
certain to kill them all in twelve minutes in the vague hope
of taking
Sokar down with the hell planet he’d created.
It was the longest twelve minutes of Martouf’s life.
Much happened quickly.
The fiery vents created by the death throes of the planet
proved to be their salvation. Samantha directed them to create
a cannon out of stones and dirt, an extremely effective cannon
that shattered the barred door as if it were nothing.
The race to the transport rings, Martouf and Samantha supporting
Jacob, Dr. Jackson helping O’Neill, went largely unnoticed
by their former captors who sought vainly for a likely nonexistent
escape from the certain death exploding all around them.
Martouf let Lantash take control to manually configure the
smashed control device for the transport rings. So much depended
on Teal’c being in the correct position to intercept
the beam, a nearly impossible maneuver in the best of conditions.
With Sokar’s ship hovering over the dying planet it would
be more than impossible, it would be the proverbial miracle.
Martouf was not particularly inclined to believe in miracles….
‘And the choice would be to do nothing and die anyway?’
Martouf had to agree with his symbiote on that score, it was
better to die in the attempt…
‘Thank you for the positive thoughts there, Marty…’
Martouf smiled to himself, framing a goodbye for his long-time
companion…and dearest friend. The wave of sadness Martouf
felt from Lantash was enough to tell him his symbiote felt
the same. Words were unnecessary.
When everything was ready, Martouf nodded at Dr. Jackson who
relayed the information to Teal’c.
Martouf watched the humans exchange wry glances, glances full
of things unspoken, not requiring words, and suddenly Martouf
understood many things. For so many years he and Lantash had
been one another’s support. They had little need to look
outside of their bond to fulfill the role of friend and comforter.
But now Martouf understood that totally human entities learned
to forge the same sort of bonds with one another, overcoming
the barriers of flesh and formality to experience a oneness
more than a little similar to that of the Tok’ra.
‘Now he understands,’ came Lantash’s gentle
tones as the blue-gold light washed over them, preceding the
flashing rings that would transport them to life - or death.
…………………….
Martouf was more than a little shocked to find himself standing
on the deck of the cargo ship. His first real impression was
of Aldwin’s voice urging Teal’c to get the ship
out of there. Martouf could feel the ship’s engines shudder
with the sudden acceleration, whining perceptibly under the
strain. Moments seemed to lengthen and shift as they held their
collective breaths, finally hearing Teal’c’s steady
voice announce their escape.
By the time Teal’c set the small vessel on automatic
guidance and joined them, they’d arranged themselves
as comfortably on the floor as was possible. O’Neill
was gratefully sipping at the water Teal’c provided.
Though the human commander was still pale, Martouf could see
the deep lines of stress and pain had eased into a contented
smile.
“A hell of a day, kids…”
‘Kids?’ came Lantash’s query.
‘A Tau’ri term for children…or those younger
than themselves.’
‘In that case, one might remind O’Neill that,
between us, Selmac and I span over an eon.’
Martouf nearly laughed at the affronted tone of Lantash’s ‘voice’. ‘I
believe he intends it as a term of affection.’
The mental equivalent of a ‘humph’ rippled through
Martouf’s consciousness and it was all he could do not
to laugh aloud, which he realized had been Lantash’s
purpose.
Samantha and her father were chatting now, planning much needed
time together. Martouf was pleased to see them happy, reunited
despite every expectation he had held for their survival.
More of O’Neill’s ‘faith’? Perhaps
there was more merit than Martouf would have believed possible
in the power of human ingenuity and determination. Despite
the lack of planning, despite Martouf’s very real belief
that they would die on Naetu, or worse come under Sokar’s
malicious attention, they had succeeded.
Speaking of which…
Martouf moved to retrieve the human’s medical supplies
and returned to O’Neill’s side. Teal’c had
brought blankets to allow the others to rest. Once O’Neill
was bandaged and made comfortable, Martouf realized he had
heard nothing from Dr. Jackson since they had come aboard the
ha’tak.
On the platform above and behind them, Martouf was surprised
to see Daniel was awake and looking down at him and Colonel
O’Neill. In that unguarded moment, there was so much
emotion…dark and deep and chilling, Martouf found himself
taken aback. There was indeed much more than intelligence in
those eyes…there was an ancient ‘knowing’ granted
only to those few given time and experience and pain enough
to see the depths of their own soul.
‘Does it really surprise you so much?’
Martouf gathered some of the medical supplies and climbed
up beside the quiet academic. “We should clean your wound,
Dr. Jackson. Naetu was far from sanitary.”
“Daniel…” was the quiet response.
“Daniel.” Martouf smiled and gently dabbed at
the rough abrasion, ringed by blackening bruises.
Daniel sat quietly throughout, eyes on the far wall, but focused
somewhere much farther away.
“Something troubles you?”
A brief shake of the head. “I’m fine…”
“Tell us another one, Daniel…”came O’Neill’s
voice, muffled and yawning as he gingerly rolled over to look
up at them.
“Go to sleep, Jack.” Daniel’s voice was
rough, almost rude, causing Martouf to look sharply at him,
but Daniel’s eyes were remarkably gentle.
O’Neill grinned broadly. “I will when you do.”
It was quite obvious to Martouf that neither man was anxious
to sleep, and likely would not be for some time to come. Reflecting
on his own visions under the influence of Sokar’s blood,
Martouf felt a jarring wave of sympathetic understanding. Whatever
horrors Apophis had orchestrated in their drugged brains were
still very much alive to both men.
// Jolinar, alive before him…so very, very beautiful…begging
him not to tell… //
‘You did not betray her…or us…’ Lantash.
Quiet, understanding…
‘I almost did.’
‘I know.’ Just that. A statement of fact with
no judgments attached. Martouf silently thanked – and
not for the first time - whatever force existed in the universe
that was responsible for bringing him together with Lantash.
Companion, friend, confidante, and supporter; Martouf’s
one constant assurance he would never be alone. Leaning back
against the wall, effectively retreating from the long thoughtful
gaze passing between the two Tau’ri, Martouf wondered
if perhaps it was similar for them. Could two - or more - separate
beings, so fundamentally different, become as close as he and
Lantash?
As he watched, Daniel shrugged in seeming capitulation to
some unspoken inquiry in O’Neill’s eyes then slid
forward to lie down on the floor near the older man.
‘O’Neill will not rest until Daniel does. I think
neither will rest, but they will maintain the illusion for
the other.’
Martouf silently agreed, noting from his vantage point that
O’Neill’s brown eyes rested on the back of Daniel’s
head, while Daniel’s tired blue ones continued their
unfathomable fascination with the wall. They probably would
not sleep, but they would rest and perhaps take comfort in
the closeness, the unity, beneath the surface.
‘So philosophical, my friend.’
‘It is a fitting end to this day.’
A ripple of agreement signaled Martouf was not the only one
immersed in contemplation.
The Tau’ri concept of a ‘team’ was so much
clearer to him now. Aldwin had told Martouf of Teal’c’s
steadfast and emphatic refusal to abandon his friends to their
fate. The other three had supported one another through the
experience in words and deeds, in quiet presence. They had
come out of Naetu’s pit on the strength of their connection,
their often seemingly insane ingenuity and their amazingly
tenacious will.
At their first meeting, Garwin had pronounced an alliance
between the Tau’ri and the Tok’ra impossible because
the humans could contribute nothing of value to the Tok’ra
cause. This mission had proven the absolute fallacy of that
assumption. The Tau’ri possessed much the Tok’ra
had lost. Many, many generations of symbiosis and necessary
isolation had protected their cause, but had also protected
them, perhaps too much, from their own human halves: halves
which felt one another’s pain so deeply, halves which
fought so fiercely against overwhelming odds for the sake of
their friends rather than sit back and accept their fate as
unchangeable, halves which could reach out to another with
a look or a smile or nonsensical words to lift the spirit.
Watching Jack O’Neill reach out to rest a hand on the
shoulder of the now-sleeping Daniel Jackson, finally closing
his own eyes as the last of his team succumbed to much needed
rest, Martouf smiled at the symbolism.
Joined but not joined. Together but apart. Yet, somehow, forever
linked in common purpose, affection and love.
‘Love?’ Lantash’s driest tone.
Letting his eyes roam from O’Neill’s hand on Daniel’s
shoulder to Samantha Carter huddled in her father’s embrace
to Teal’c’s satisfied smile as turned to check
on his friends, Martouf nodded. ‘Yes.’
The hell that was Naetu had merely strengthened that which
already existed between these four, tested in fires much hotter
than any Sokar could imagine. Tempered and formed into an unbreakable
bond Martouf frankly envied.
‘Marty…’
‘What?’
‘They are only humans, Marty.’ A wry smile was
all but visible in Martouf’s head.
Martouf smiled in return. ‘Not such a bad thing, all
in all.’
‘No. Not bad at all.’
‘Lantash?’
‘Yes?’
‘Don’t call me ‘Marty’…’
‘fin’
