DISCLAIMER: Yeah, the SG-1 guys are all property of MGM, World 
Gekko Corp, and Double Secret productions. This is all in fun, no 
infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. All other 
characters, ideas, etc., herein are copyrighted to the author.
TITLE: SMALL GRACES: TEAL'C
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
EMAIL: rowan_d1@yahoo.com
WEBSITE: http://rowan_d.tripod.com
RATING: 17+
ARCHIVE: All archives fine as long as you let me know.
CATEGORIES: Angst, Sam/Jack UST, team friendship
SPOILERS: Through early season 7
WARNINGS: Descriptions of torture, references to rape.
SUMMARY: "He has grown accustomed to weathering his own 
suffering.  He has never grown accustomed to watching his friends 
suffer the same."


AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is a companion piece to the first in 
the series ("Small Graces: Daniel").  In some senses it is a 
'prequel', so might be read without the first, but I do recommend 
you read them in order to get the intended effect.:)


Devoted thanks to my betas who had to suffer through two entire 
drafts of this one and did so with admirable patience and 
enthusiasm: Teddy E, annaK, and Strix.  Extra special thanks to 
Strix who wrestled me to the ground like the good Viking Chick 
she is, sat on me, and twisted my arm behind my back until I 
shouted "Uncle!" and rewrote the damn thing the way I should have 
written it in the first place.




"Small Graces: Teal'c"
by
Rowan Darkstar (rowan_d1@yahoo.com)
Copyright (c) 2005



He has endured many days of torture in his life.  He has 
administered many days of torture in his life.  He has learned 
the ways of his mind, the patterns he must follow, the careful 
disciplines that will ease the pain.  He has grown accustomed to 
weathering his own suffering.

He has never grown accustomed to watching his friends suffer the 
same.

Teal'c wakes to the sound of Daniel Jackson screeching in pain.  
Each member of SG-1 was hit with a staff blast when they were 
ambushed near the Gate.  Not enough to kill.  Each shot was 
carefully aimed to disable.  Teal'c recalls his own training and 
recognizes it in action.  But this gut-tearing cry is not from 
any wound by staff blast.  This is something other.  Teal'c knows 
the sound of a tortured soul as well as he knows the voice of his 
son.

The Jaffa opens his eyes to a pebbled grey and grime-ridden 
floor.  He pushes onto his hands and knees, crouching like a 
predator gathering for attack; and he takes in his surroundings 
with the speed of a warrior.  The wall behind and to his right is 
of the same dirty stone as the floor.  To his left and ahead, the 
sickly yellow light flickers through rusted metal bars too thick 
for even his strong hands to bend.  Beside him, O'Neill is 
stirring to alertness.  The wound on O'Neill's leg is dark with 
dried blood, but the flow has stopped.  The injury is 
superficial.  O'Neill swipes a hand across his eyes, feels 
instinctively for his absent weapons, and cries out in pain as he 
tries to move his stiff leg too quickly and launch himself to a 
sitting position.

"My weapons are gone as well, O'Neill," Teal'c offers, voice low 
and quiet.

O'Neill glances toward him, and his gaze is unfocused and 
disoriented.

A few feet beyond O'Neill, Major Carter is dragging up from the 
floor, her yellow hair a flash of color amid the soiled greys and 
browns and greens.  The leg of her uniform is torn and ragged 
where the staff blast scorched her thigh.

"Oh, Christ, Daniel..."  O'Neill is the first to push forward, 
pressing close to the iron-like bars on useless instinct.  Teal'c 
does not move.  He can be of no more help to their friend on one 
side of the cell than the other.  His Jaffa training has taught 
him to resist such emotional impulses.  Strategic thought 
patterns are better served by distance.

On the far side of the open chamber, beyond their cell, Daniel 
Jackson is bound at the wrists and ankles to a vertical board.  
Around him stand three Jaffa.  These are in different dress than 
the guards who ambushed SG-1 at the gate.  Teal'c suspects these 
Jaffa hold specialized positions; they would be the torture 
experts.

Teal'c wishes he had never worn this uniform on his own skin.  He 
has learned many years ago of the futility of guilt.  Calm use of 
his knowledge and decisive forward action are all that is 
justified.  Yet there remains the split second, when he feels the 
pain before he rises above.

Teal'c's watchful gaze soaks up more of their surroundings.  On 
the side wall, a massive iron-like door appears to be the only 
entrance or exit from the chamber.  There are no windows, only 
torches mounted upon the walls.

Daniel Jackson has been hit with some variation on the pain 
stick.  He is now breathless and limp on his chains.  O'Neill is 
gripping the bars with white knuckles, and Major Carter has made 
her way to O'Neill's side, her posture mimicking her commander's.

"*What do you want?*  We haven't done anything!" O'Neill shouts.  
The torturers ignore his cries, but a fourth Jaffa in the 
original armor steps from beside their cell and snaps the length 
of his staff weapon across the bars before O'Neill and Major 
Carter can yank their fingers away.  Teal'c steps near, but there 
is nothing he can do to help.  "Silence," the Jaffa orders 
against their muted hisses of pain.

"Where are you from?" the tallest of the interrogators demands of 
Daniel Jackson, his tone cool and resounding.

Daniel's reply speaks of a phrase repeated too many times.  "I am 
from a planet called Earth, far far from this place.  We are 
peaceful...explorers..."

"You carry weapons."

Daniel opens his eyes for a moment, and Teal'c sees the flame of 
indignation.  This flash of life gives him both hope and fear.  
"To defend ourselves against people like you!" Daniel Jackson 
says.

He is hit in the ribcage with a heavy club.

"Oh, God..." Major Carter's voice is a bare whisper and Teal'c 
reaches out and touches her back.

They watch their friend.

There is something in the protection of Daniel Jackson that has 
long connected Teal'c to Major Carter.  In their first months as 
a team, Daniel Jackson was the most physically vulnerable among 
them.  Teal'c was the strongest defender of the team, and O'Neill 
regularly assigned Major Carter to the role of guide and 
caretaker to Daniel Jackson.  Somewhere in those months, Teal'c's 
field instinct entwined with Major Carter's.  Daniel Jackson was 
their friend, and their charge to protect.  In the years between, 
Teal'c knows Daniel Jackson has grown into a warrior worthy of 
great respect.  But the instincts remain.

Near a half hour passes before the guards release Daniel Jackson 
from the clamps.  Teal'c cannot guess how long his friend 
suffered alone before his teammates awoke.

Daniel Jackson is thrown into the cell like useless trash, the 
guards keeping pain sticks at the ready for would-be escapers.  
O'Neill helps Daniel inside, then Teal'c and Carter take their 
friend's weight as O'Neill shouts to the enemy Jaffa.  "Would it 
kill you to just open the door and let him inside?  You think 
you're gonna learn something more from throwing him back into his 
cell, you fucking bastards?"

Daniel Jackson's glasses are gone, his neck is bleeding where a 
metal spike has been pushed into his flesh, and his midriff is 
visibly bruising.

Teal'c cradles Daniel Jackson's head and shoulders.  Major Carter 
is giving all her attention to assessing Daniel's injuries, 
stroking his skin as she examines the wounds.  She is caught off 
guard when two of the Jaffa dive forward and snatch her beneath 
the arms, dragging her from the cell, before Teal'c can grasp 
hold of her body.

The three men are left with nothing but rage and the vibrations 
of anger within the walls of the cell.  The inevitability of the 
impending horror silences their tongues.
 
They tend to Daniel Jackson best they can.

They listen to her screams.

Teal'c tells himself emotion does not help him in the defense of 
his friends.  But he has never seen his Taur'i brothers as he 
does his brethren Jaffa.  They have all fought side by side.  But 
these Taur'i...they took him in when he gave up all that he had.  
They made him one of their own for reasons that had little to do 
with his strengths in battle.

With these three, he is not the man who served as Apophis's first 
prime.  He is the man who has sacrificed all for his wife and 
son.

O'Neill is third to be interrogated.  Teal'c watches O'Neill as 
Major Carter rests against the back wall, Daniel Jackson at her 
side.  He knows O'Neill is remembering Ba'al.  He would give his 
life to make it stop.

Teal'c is the last to be taken.  Leaving the cell, he finds more 
fear in Major Carter's gaze than in his own.  He can handle what 
he is given.  He knows he can.  He believes what cannot be 
believed.

Teal'c has lost count of the hours by the time he is propelled 
back into their prison for what he imagines is the night.

The clang of the massive iron door behind the torturers pains the 
ears of all in the chamber as it bounces off stone walls with 
sick finality.  Something in the sound and the still silence that 
follows tells Teal'c they are deep in the bowels of a massive 
structure.  They may be far below the planet's surface.  This is 
a kind of...dungeon.

The silence is alien and cold.


*****


Teal'c is loathe to wake again to pain and shared agony. He knows 
not his role when he can not be the warrior in action.  Mere 
months ago, he lost sight of his own worth, was forced to rebuild 
his sense of soul as the surrender of his symbiote shook his 
deepest foundations.  His footing is still uncertain in these 
days of rebirth.  He feels he is not doing justice by his 
friends.

The interrogation cycle is repeated.  They are each taken in 
turn.

SG-1 learns little of their captors.  These Jaffa serve a Goa'uld 
called Summanus.  Daniel Jackson names him as the Roman god of 
the night sky, of night lightning.  But none of SG-1 has 
knowledge of this Goa'uld.  Teal'c can only suspect he is 
gathering power in this remote place; that he wishes to learn of 
other Goa'uld, of their armies and positions.  To help his future 
fight for power.  But this is all assumption based on knowledge 
from their past.

Daniel's treatment is excessively brutal on this second day.  
Teal'c suspects the Jaffa have learned of Daniel Jackson's 
knowledge of Goa'uld history, of the Ancients, of the Goa'uld 
tongue.  There is much they wish to know.  Teal'c's training in 
the service of Apophis never allowed for the techniques he 
observes in use here.  The brutality offends his buried senses.  
There is art and method to successful interrogation.  These Jaffa 
are primitive in their approach.

Daniel Jackson is the last to be returned to his friends before 
the interrogators leave for the night.  His knee is badly 
injured, and his eye is swelled beyond use.  Teal'c offers the 
torn tail of his shirt to cover the injured eye, to shelter it 
from the light.

There is little to be done to tend one another's wounds in this 
place.  Water is administered in minimal doses, only enough to 
keep the prisoners alive if they consume it.  There is none to 
spare to clean injuries.  SG-1 has been stripped of all supplies.  
Even their belts are gone.  Each of them has ripped every spare 
liner and edge of their clothing for use as bandages.

When the night guards turn their attention to their own 
conversation, Major Carter tries to offer the elastic of her bra 
to wrap Daniel's knee.  It is the best resource they have left, 
but Daniel refuses to accept.  He knows as well as the others 
that during her last torture session the Jaffa ripped off her 
shirt to use the whip on her back but didn't bother to strip her 
of her bra.  Daniel Jackson cannot bear to be the one to steal 
this last dignity from her.

"Daniel, please.  You need it to walk," Major Carter says, cheek 
streaked with blood none of them can any longer identify as her 
own or his.  Her voice is scratchy and dry.  Teal'c knows she has 
always dehydrated faster than the others, but she has never 
complained.  On rare missions, on the hottest of the hot planets, 
she has accepted a sip of Teal'c's own share of the water when 
hers ran low.  On Netu he was not there to help her.  The thought 
followed him for days after her return.

Daniel reaches out a hand, speaking without memory of his pain 
for a moment.  "Sam," he says softly, and he meets her gaze with 
the nobility of character Teal'c has long admired, "--no."

Major Carter holds Daniel's gaze for longer than she should, then 
swallows hard.  Her gaze falls and she nods, matted hair slipping 
to block her eye.  In the end, O'Neill braids three of their 
remaining bootlaces together to widen their girth and wraps 
Daniel's knee.

Daniel Jackson is breathless and pale, despite the sweat dripping 
down his face by the time the process is complete.  Teal'c helps 
Major Carter pull their friend to a sitting position, and Daniel 
leans against Major Carter's chest as O'Neill helps him take his 
portion of water from the clay bowl.  Daniel Jackson lets his 
friends care for him; he has done the same in turn.

"That's good," Major Carter says softly as Daniel downs the last 
of the water.  She strokes Daniel's hair as Teal'c has seen her 
do with Cassandra.  "Now rest.  It's what you need to heal."  
Daniel Jackson settles across her lap, cradled in the curve of 
her arm, and Teal'c remembers a night on Chulak when Rya'c woke 
from a terrible nightmare of his friend's death by fire, and 
Drey'auc soothed him back to sleep in their bed, stroking his 
hair and murmuring softly in his ear.  The memory seems of 
another life.

Major Carter's gaze meets Teal'c's across the cell, and she 
offers him a ghost of a smile, fingers still working Daniel's 
hair.  Teal'c nods to her, acknowledging volumes in the single 
gesture.  They are connected, their concern for their friend runs 
deep, they are alive and breathing, and there is a vital kind of 
hope in that.  Circumstances are dire, but they have survived 
another day.  And, step by step, they might keep breathing 
through the nightmare.

Only minutes pass before Daniel Jackson sleeps.  Major Carter 
strokes his hair for far longer, pushing away the demons in his 
dreams.


*****


The others sleep out of necessity as Teal'c keeps silent watch.  
He will need to rest soon, but for now his strength is 
sufficient, and his friends require rest.

Two of Summanus' guards have remained in the torture chamber, 
seated side by side on the sole stone benches in the massive 
room.  In the quiet, Teal'c listens to them speak amongst 
themselves.  They seem to forget the prisoners' presence as they 
talk of a recent encounter with the Jaffa of an opposing Goa'uld.  
Teal'c does not know of the Goa'uld they name, so gleans little 
from this exchange, save for a possible sense of the size of 
Summanus' forces.  This information could be useful later.  It 
helps him little now.

Teal'c listens more closely when one of the guards chuckles 
softly and says, "Didn't think we'd see a woman down here anytime 
soon.  Must be a valuable asset, that one."

"For certain.  Beauty like that would not be wasted otherwise."

Teal'c cannot let the opportunity pass.  He draws slow, deep 
breaths of the thick and musty air, calming his mind and 
remaining as much a part of the wall as he can.  He knows a 
forward question will bring him nothing but taunting and 
hostility.  But he also knows the mind of a loyal Jaffa well 
enough to work his advantage.

"Does your god not know the power of a female warrior?"

The guards immediately turn their attention to the cell.  "Do you 
dare speak, prisoner?" the first demands.

Teal'c bows his head respectfully, though it makes his guts 
clench to do so.  In the edge of his vision, he sees Major Carter 
and O'Neill stir in their sleep, believes them to be listening 
from behind closed eyes.

"I merely wish to clarify what you say," he states evenly.  "You 
praise the power of your god, yet you state that he would not be 
aware of the strategic advantage a female prisoner might bestow."

One of the guards rises and approaches the cell, stopping only a 
few feet from the bars.  He regards Teal'c in silence for a long 
moment before he speaks.

"Our god knows the value of a woman," the guard says at last, his 
tone smug and proud.  "He knows the woman's value in his 
bedchamber," he says with the hint of a smirk, and the guard 
behind him gives a small chuckle.  "Our god takes the most 
beautiful in this part of the galaxy and keeps them for his own 
toys.  He knows this to be the role best served by a woman.  Do 
you dare argue with the wisdom of Summanus?"

Teal'c bows his head again, and gives a single negative motion.  
"I do not," he says, voice low.  When he does not speak further 
or lift his eyes, the guards turn away and return to their own 
conversation.

SG-1 feigns continued sleep.

Teal'c no longer wishes to rest.


*****


On the third day, the interrogators' questions turn 
technological.  This appears to be the area in which they lack 
the most expertise, and the primitive structure of the chamber 
holds with this assumption.  The Jaffa soon determine Major 
Carter is their greatest source of information.  She is treated 
accordingly.

Teal'c is accustomed to being the target of the greatest hatred 
when the team is captured by enemy Jaffa.  He is, after all, the 
Shol'va.  He can use this to lessen the focus upon his friends.  
But things are different here.  Teal'c cannot deny the growing 
sense of uncertainty in their circumstances.  He has never faced 
a situation quite as this before.

The guards ignore the male prisoners on this day.  Teal'c and 
O'Neill and Daniel Jackson sit or stand or close their eyes or 
kick the wall and grasp the unforgiving bars.  They do not meet 
one another's gazes; Teal'c recognizes the struggle with 
helplessness in his friends that he feels in himself.  He senses 
the battle between the necessity of rational thought and the rage 
of frustration.

Major Carter endures one brutal session after another with little 
breath between.

They watch.

She tells the interrogators nothing.  Nothing of value.

Major Carter is half-crawling when she reaches the cell door.  
The guards seem to gain a sordid amusement from allowing her to 
struggle the few remaining feet toward her makeshift sanctuary.  
O'Neill catches her around the waist the moment he dares reach 
for her.  The gate clangs closed behind them, and Major Carter 
sinks to her knees despite O'Neill's death grip around her ribs 
and Teal'c's hand on her arm.  O'Neill eases her to the floor, 
onto her side.

"Major Carter..."  She is breathing so raggedly she can barely 
speak, her skin is bright pink and drenched in sweat.

O'Neill has knelt beside her.  He is pushing back her hair and 
seeking her eyes with a deep wrought urgency.  "What's bad?  Talk 
to me, Carter.  What do you need?"

Major Carter squeezes her eyes closed, jaw clenching and 
unclenching against the pain.  She gasps for breath between every 
word.  "Shoulder.  Sir.  Dislocated.  Get it.  Back.  In."

"Oh, Jesus."  Daniel Jackson's voice.  He is moving his hand over 
Major Carter's injured shoulder, hovering just above the skin, 
not touching.  His other hand is pressed to her back.  "Oh, 
Sam..."

O'Neill springs into action, hearing nothing past Major Carter's 
words.  "We're on it.  Teal'c, get her on her back.  Daniel, 
guard her shoulder."

Teal'c bends across his friend, feeling the heat waving off her 
skin.  He slips one hand beneath her uninjured shoulder, the 
other around her opposite hip, and shifts her as gently as he can 
until she's lying on her back.  She cries out with the movement, 
but makes no gesture to push her friends away.  She knows they 
are doing all they can.  "I am sorry, Major Carter," Teal'c says 
simply, voice low, unable to hold back the words.  He knows she 
doesn't hold him responsible.  But he finds it's harder to hurt 
her than he would have imagined, even when he is certain this is 
what she needs.

O'Neill is crouching at her left side, cautiously laying her 
upper arm close to her body, aligning the angle of the joints.  
"Teal'c, I'm going to need you to brace her," he says, not 
lifting his gaze from his own task.  "As still and straight as 
you can.  Daniel, help him."

"How?"

O'Neill's voice is calm against Daniel Jackson's note of 
hysteria.  Teal'c is accustomed to the balance amongst his 
friends.  The rhythm of the team is as natural as breath.  "Get 
above her head, Daniel.  One hand under her chin to keep her neck 
straight, one hand under her back, grab her ribs on this side to 
pull directly back against me.  Watch for broken ones."

Major Carter releases a soft whimper.

"And you're going to--"

"I'm gonna pull, Daniel.  Down and out.  Really hard, and really 
fast.  Get this shoulder back in the socket."

"Okay."

"Do it..." Major Carter's voice is hoarse and dry and just a 
little desperate.  It's hard to tell the sweat on her face from 
the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

"Stay with me, Carter, we're almost there."

O'Neill is deep in concentration finding his own best position, 
laying Major Carter's arm to best advantage.  In the end, he 
tries a boot against Teal'c's arm as the Jaffa settles his weight 
over his injured teammate.  "Can you take that, Big Guy?" O'Neill 
asks, glancing toward his own foot.  Teal'c takes a moment to 
brace his foot against the corner of the cell, then nods 
somberly.  "I can, O'Neill."

"All right."

Teal'c dips his head to shelter Major Carter, though he knows 
this will not lessen her pain.

"On three."

"One."

Teal'c's face is so near Major Carter's, he can feel her ragged 
breath on his skin.  Her chest is shaking beneath his own with 
every rise and fall of breath.

"Two."

"Please...please, please..."  Her whisper is so soft, he knows he 
is the only one to hear.

"It's all right, Sam, it's all right," Daniel is repeating, "hold 
on."

Every inch of her body tenses beneath his.

"THREE!"

Her screams rip across his ear drum, but he does not pull away.  
He gives her all the weight and solidity he has to offer.  It 
takes two tries and too much pulling, but at last he feels the 
jolt ricochet through her body when the joint snaps into place.

For several seconds, none of them does anything but breathe.  The 
very air seems to quiver in the aftermath.  They have formed a 
sort of human shelter over and around her.  Then, finally, out of 
the cacophony of breath, Major Carter whispers, "I hate...all of 
you."  Half a beat passes in silence, then O'Neill begins to 
laugh.  It's a breathless and half-hearted sound, but there's 
relief and genuine happiness buried somewhere there.

Teal'c eases his weight back from Major Carter.

Daniel has tear streaks on his own cheeks, and he swipes at them 
with his sleeve, smearing grime from the floor across his skin.  
He is hiding something almost like a smile.  "We love you, too, 
Sam," he says, his exhaled breath something like a laugh.

Teal'c sits back on his heel as O'Neill sidles up closer to 
Carter and cups his hand to her cheek.  His friend catches Major 
Carter's gaze and holds it, no doubt grateful when she is able to 
do the same.  "Nice job, Major.  You did good."

Major Carter closes her eyes a moment, swallows hard.  "Thank 
you, sir."

She's still shaking, the pain must be near unbearable.

There is much left to be done, but little with which to do it.


*****


Exhaustion should have claimed her long ago.  But her eyes are 
still half open, her body tense against the cold floor, and this 
tells him the depth of her pain.

Teal'c watches O'Neill watching Major Carter and sees the same 
thoughts reflected in his friend's shuttered gaze.  O'Neill is 
not a man to easily reveal the deeper emotions in his life.  His 
expressions are subtle and minimal, almost Jaffa in nature.  This 
is something Teal'c has always related to in O'Neill, something 
he understands.  He knows his Taur'i brother well.  The slightest 
shift in his eyes, the tension in the sculptured planes of his 
cheeks, the staggered rhythm of his breath; all these scream 
louder than words.  And Teal'c remembers this man strapped to a 
Tok'ra device, defenses torn and tattered, revealing his greatest 
weakness to all present; revealing his greatest fear.

The same emotions wave off O'Neill now as he sits quietly against 
the cell bars, eyes deep and brow tense as he gazes upon Major 
Carter.

Minutes pass before O'Neill rises awkwardly to his feet.  His 
pain is far less than Major Carter's, but his knees have suffered 
serious strain.  Daniel Jackson does not stir, his breathing even 
and deep.

Major Carter lifts her eyes drowsily as O'Neill approaches.  He 
doesn't speak, but lowers himself to the floor beside her.  
O'Neill stretches out an arm, gently leads Major Carter to place 
her head in the crook of his shoulder.  Teal'c is barely privy to 
the whispered words, "It's cold," and he thinks of Antarctica, 
and wonders if this moment means something to his friends he 
cannot understand.

After a beat of hesitation, Major Carter warms to O'Neill's 
touch.  She nestles in against him, her manner one Teal'c has 
rarely seen and it pains him to glimpse it now, here in this 
place of hatred and cold.  O'Neill's hold is steadfast and 
strong.  Her eyes fall closed for the first time in too long, and 
Teal'c is deeply grateful for this small reprieve.  He hears the 
slight dampness in Carter's sniff and gentle breath; he knows 
pure willpower keeps her tears at bay.  He thinks O'Neill presses 
his lips to Major Carter's forehead, and he knows he hears the 
words, "We're gonna go home, Carter."


*****


They wake to O'Neill's shouts.  The cell is flooded with amber 
light and rough hands are dragging O'Neill from their company.  
Major Carter is on her feet and moving after him, still entangled 
from the place she had slept.  The cuts and contusions on her 
face and throat are far more shocking this morning than the night 
before.  Teal'c feels the blow upon his own skin as a Jaffa 
strikes Major Carter hard with the back of his hand to keep her 
away from the door.  She hits her knees, pushes back up to her 
feet as Teal'c is grasping at the closing cell door.  He moves to 
help Major Carter as she staggers, but Daniel Jackson is catching 
her and pulling her back from danger.  "Sam, you're not helping 
anyone if they hit you with the pain stick."

Teal'c hates the desperation in her eyes.  He has seen too much 
suffering in this life.  His own eyes move to O'Neill, and his 
guts ache as he watches the enemy Jaffa once again hang his 
friend by the wrists.


*****


"I have four days supply of Tretonin," Teal'c states simply as 
they sit in the night stillness of the cell.  The vial in the 
inner lining of his trousers was not taken from him.  These Jaffa 
are far more careless than he would have been in the same role.  
He would have punished those in his command severely for such an 
oversight.

"Six," O'Neill corrects.

Teal'c frowns.  "I do not understand, O'Neill."

O'Neill gestures toward his own leg.  "Got some in my boot."

Teal'c is caught unprepared.  He has no words to offer.  He waits 
for O'Neill to meet his gaze, and when he does, O'Neill shrugs.  
Teal'c is offering a nod of deepest gratitude, when Daniel 
Jackson says, "Eight, actually."  And Teal'c turns sharply to 
face him.  Daniel Jackson offers a small smile and adds, "They 
didn't search my boot, either."

Teal'c's brow tightens in concert with his chest as he soaks in 
the scope of the knowledge lain before him.

"Ten," Major Carter says.  She is shifting position slightly.  
She tugs the tail of her shirt higher, reaches beneath the cloth, 
moving ever so cautiously to protect her shoulder, and she 
appears to use her nail to pop several stitches.  She holds out a 
small vial to him.  "Sewn in the lining," she offers.

Teal'c hesitates a moment, then he holds out his hand, so massive 
and dark beside the pale delicacy of her fingers, and she lays 
the tiny treasure in his palm.

He meets her gaze in the silence, looks to each of his friends in 
turn.

"How long have you done this?"

O'Neill shrugged.  "Few months.  Wanted to make sure this whole 
Tretonin thing worked out for you.  Only made sense."

Teal'c nods quietly.  A part of him hates this moment of 
vulnerability, hates that his friends see this weakness in him so 
vividly as to prepare for it in kind.  Another part of him feels 
he has received the greatest honor a man can know.

"Thank you," is all he can say.

He hopes they understand.


*****


Each prisoner is taken for one more interrogation.

Daniel Jackson is the last.

Their injuries are not as severe this time as in the days before.  
But their strength and resilience have declined with pain and 
lack of water and sustenance.

The torturers do not look back as they leave their prisoners for 
the night.

SG-1 is left alone in the silence of the chamber.

The four of them sit closer together than the space allowed would 
dictate.  They have always done so.

"So...that new Tomb Raider movie should be out by now," O'Neill 
says softly.  "What do you say we all go see it as soon as we get 
home.  I'll even spring for dinner at O'Malley's, provided Teal'c 
only eats one meal's worth."

Teal'c raises an eyebrow, but O'Neill never looks his way.

Major Carter smiles softly.  She's cradling her injured arm 
across her stomach.  "That actually sounds really nice, sir."

O'Neill's lips quirk in a hint of a grin.  "I thought you hated 
the first one."

She nods and says simply, "I did."

"Yeah, I could go for that," Daniel Jackson says, and Major 
Carter's eyes smile his way for a moment.  "Always good to make 
fun of the archaeology errors.  You know, provided you spring for 
popcorn, as well," he adds.

O'Neill points a finger in Daniel's direction.  "Hey!  I said I 
was paying for dinner, not the movie."

"I will purchase your popcorn, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c states 
matter-of-factly, and Daniel responds with a warm smile.

Daniel Jackson licks at his dry lips.  "Thanks, Teal'c."

"I'll buy you Gummy Bears," Major Carter says to Teal'c, a 
sweetness in her voice that belies their bleak surroundings and 
the pain in her eyes.

Teal'c nods, acknowledging her generous offer, and her awareness 
of his favorite Taur'i confection.

"I want Gummy Bears," Daniel Jackson says dejectedly, frowning.  
And Major Carter brushes at his leg with the back of her good 
hand.

"What are you, twelve?" O'Neill says sharply.

But none of them has a chance to reply as the great iron door 
swings open with a deafening crash.  Three Jaffa guards they have 
seen once or twice in the nightly rotations approach the cell 
with a purposeful gate.

"Oh, what now..." O'Neill says dryly.

Teal'c is the first on his feet as the others instinctively 
gather themselves to more defensible postures.

The metal key is turned in the cell door, and a staff weapon is 
trained upon them by the third guard as the first two pass into 
the cell.

"Come on, guys, haven't we had enough fun for today," O'Neill 
continues, hands outstretched as he places himself between his 
team and the guards.  Teal'c moves shoulder to shoulder with 
O'Neill.

The guards ignore O'Neill's words and the position of Major 
Carter's defenders, as they grasp her beneath the arms and yank 
her to her feet, propelling her toward the door.  She hisses in 
pain at the strain on her shoulder.

"Oh, no way," O'Neill protests, "she's done her round for today, 
can't you...."

But they are closing the cell door, and the lead guard says 
coldly.  "Summanus has personally requested the prisoner."

"*What?*  No, you tell Summanus he wants me!  I'm the one kicking 
Goa'uld ass around the galaxy, he should be asking for tips from 
me!"

Teal'c moves to the bars, the quivering in his gut no longer the 
actions of an alien entity, but of something far deeper.

Major Carter's gaze meets O'Neill's as she staggers, side 
stepping as the guards pull roughly at her arm.  "I won't tell 
him anything, sir.  I won't."

"Carter, I know, you don't have to--"

The second guard is laughing over their words, "Summanus does not 
wish information.  He has learned all he can from the lot of you.  
You three will start as slave labor at first light.  The woman, 
he wants for himself."

Realization burns Teal'c's lungs and his fingers tighten on the 
bars.

"Oh, Christ..." the words are Daniel's and he sounds ill.

"Carter!"

Major Carter looks over her shoulder, responding on instinct to 
her CO's voice, and for the briefest moment Teal'c cannot see the 
formidable warrior he knows, only the deeply frightened and 
vulnerable woman.  "Sir?" she says softly.  And the sound breaks 
his heart.

O'Neill is clinging to the cell bars and shouting after her as 
the guards shove their charge toward the iron door.  "Carter, 
we're gonna come for you!"

"Major Carter."  Desperation sizzles like an electric current.  
Powerlessness is the sole thing Teal'c cannot bear.  It is all 
that the rebel Jaffa despise.  He has learned to suffer his own 
torture in this life.  He has never grown accustomed to watching 
his friends suffer the same.
 
"Sam!!" Daniel shouts.

"Carter, we won't leave you!  We'll come for you.  You won't be 
there long, you won't.  We'll find a way, we'll come for you!"

"Major Carter, we will not let him hold you.  I swear on my 
honor."  His thighs tremble.

Daniel Jackson shakes at the bars.  "Let her go.  How can you do 
this to her?  She's done nothing to you!  Sam--"

A flash of blood streaked blond hair and wide blue eyes.

"Carter, we're coming.  We're comi--!"

*CLANG.*


*****

rowan_d1@yahoo.com