A Love Too Strong To Break 3

Dark Despair

by Arcturus

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asa/arcturus/loveto03.php
Summary: Sam's situation takes a turn for the worse
Info: Please be warned this is not an easy chapter to read.
My thanks as ever to Oxfordshoes2 for the brilliant beta

Sam had no recollection of getting back to her cell. She was lying on the bunk and felt groggy and sore. Her mouth told her she had vomited at some point, her wrists were tender from being restrained and her neck rubbed raw from the collar they had forced on her. Time was difficult to gauge, Sam was unsure how long she had been detained – but images of the previous days were seared into her memory.

Once Simmons had left they had hauled her into a chair, releasing her hands long enough to secure them to the arms. The first drug they injected into her was to help access her memories. For over two hours, as the compound raged through her body they had questioned her relentlessly about Tok'ra operatives, bases and technology. At first, Sam had resisted, but whatever they had forced into her made it harder and harder for her to think coherently.

Turning cautiously onto her other side, she spied the breakfast tray that had been pushed through the bars. The thought of food made her gut clench dangerously and she quickly looked away. Sam pulled her knees to her stomach, fighting the nausea that was climbing her throat. She didn't think she had the energy to crawl the short distance to the toilet. She glanced blearily at her watch; 0802, which meant it was probably the weekend...

After being forced to drink a flushing out compound, a two hour respite back in the first room had left Sam shaky and nauseous. They had returned for her before she was really ready. The second drug they injected into her triggered a violent reaction. Within seconds Sam began to seize, her head thrashing dangerously back and forward, the pressure on her restrained limbs causing immediate bruising. There was urgent shouting as Sam felt her blood begin to boil before her eyes rolled back in her head.

Sam had regained consciousness slowly, registering that she was once more in the small cold room. Despite the fact that she had been incapable for hours, they had kept her restrained. Her head hammered dangerously and she struggled to pull herself to the toilet in time to heave what little was in her stomach into the bowl. Slumping miserably down the wall Sam tried to take some cleansing breaths, hoping to shake the fogginess. With no energy left, she lay down and closed her eyes. She was assaulted with images of Janet, and however hard she tried she could not push them from her mind. Instead of calming her, like they normally did, the memories served to upset her more. Her blood chemistry was shot, the remnants of two drugs still coursing round her system and Sam's defenses were useless. She sobbed for all she had lost.

It was likely to be Saturday. It would make sense for the NID to give her a whole weekend to recover; the staff probably being offered an incentive not to ask too many questions. Wincing at the pain in her head, Sam tried to stand. Laying down, feeling sorry for herself would not help her recovery. Gingerly she reached up to the shelf above the desk and pulled down her journal. She had written in it sporadically, once she had earned enough credits to purchase a pen. The feel of it under her raw palms calmed her and the brief letters from Jack and Janet were tucked inside. It didn't matter how many times she had read them, they were her connection to sanity.

It seemed like hours before they came for her again, although Sam still felt far from right. This time was more horrific. Not because of what they pumped into her, but because of what they made her do.

The collar she wore was attached by a short chain to the wall, severely restricting her movement. Her hobbled legs were also fastened to the brickwork so she could not kick out. Releasing Sam's wrists, someone fitted a Goa'uld hand device to her and the room was cleared save for two men who stood beside her.

A target object was pointed out and they injected something into her arm. Encouraging Sam with the threat of a pain stick, she was forced to use the device to eliminate the target. Item after item was carefully lined up; the pain stick making her body arc and spasm when she was uncooperative. Eventually Sam's body saved her, slumping ungraciously back against the wall in exhaustion.

Her recovery had taken the rest of the weekend, finally feeling well enough to venture into the communal area by Sunday night. Of course she was mainly ignored, but the relative freedom compared to the previous few days confinement felt good.

***

Janet was alarmed at how quickly the time was passing. Days morphed into weeks and already it had been nearly three months since Sam had been taken away.

She watched helplessly as SG-1 limped on. The team cohesion was limited, the new man causing an underlying tension that all could see and none would admit. Teal'c seemed to be coping best, but Janet knew the Jaffa was capable of burying his feelings deeply. Jack was grouchy with everyone, more so than usual and Daniel took the brunt of the colonel's abrasiveness. The archeologist had a battery of techniques to deal with his own grief and that of his team mates but, too often in the recent weeks Janet had found him hiding in his lab, not being able to work.

Together the doctor and the archeologist would try to sooth their anguish by recalling escapades with Sam, but it invariably ended up with Janet breaking down in his arms, sobbing her heart out for her lost love.

***

Five months; and still Sam was unsettled. She got on well enough with Doug and they shared lighter moments while touring the facility looking for damage. There was even some practical joking but, it was a thin veneer that hid her depression and despair. She truly believed she did not have the capacity to last five years.

She had earned enough credits from working to purchase several items: an extra blanket and pillow, some better shampoo and shower gel and more stationary. To keep her mind active, Sam had taken to writing out complicated theories and equations, as always drawing comfort from the familiar and reliable.

The NID took her every three weeks, each time on a Thursday, allowing her the weekend to recover. She hated losing days. She hated not being in control of her mind and body. The physical toll was beginning to show: deep bruising that took longer and longer to dissipate, track marks on her arms where they injected her and raw skin at all the points of restraint.

The rest of the inmates of B wing now tolerated her; she didn't eat alone much and even managed to spend some extended time in the company of others. However, there was an undertone of aggression towards her, led by Fernandez, a loudmouthed ex-sergeant with a substantial following. Sam's defense was to retreat to her cell, read her limited stash of books and write. The process of recording her thoughts in her journal calmed her like the math; it gave her a connection to the people she had left behind.

Her dreams, both waking and sleeping were still of Janet. Night after night, Sam would lie on her bunk and recall their time together. Sharp memories of special dates, love making and their ill fated trip to Jack's cabin were regular images that alternately calmed and upset her.

Every day she wondered how things were going. What was happening at the mountain and whether she was still in their thoughts. Since that first parcel she had received several other letters, mainly from Janet. They were short and impersonal, as they needed to be; still she treasured them. Sam knew that life at the SGC would go on without her, but it did nothing to help with her own feelings of desolation and despair.

Sam was also acutely aware of Mathews. He paid her special attention, often coming up to her cell when she had retreated there after dinner. He would lean on the bars, watching. One night when she was feeling particularly irritable she couldn't help but react to his attentions. "Can I help you?" she asked evenly as she felt his eyes on her.

"Not right now Carter." He leered, "But don't worry, one day soon I'll be able to help you."

"How's that then?"

"I will make good on my promise you know. I can't have you thinking that your so called love is natural. You just need someone to show you the error of your ways."

Sam carefully put down her pen and swiveled in her seat so she was facing him. "You touch me and you will wish you'd never been born."

He chuckled, slapping the bars in his mirth, "Funny Carter, very funny..."

***

"Surely there's a way we can get her back here. We're struggling without her." Jack stated.

Hammond did not need the colonel to tell him. He was fully aware of the problems they had been experiencing since Carter's incarceration. But he was at a loss as to what to do; all his previous attempts to discuss the topic had been futile. Could he try again to ask the President to consider sending her back to them? It had been over three months since the last time.

"Couldn't we at least put a proposal together sir? I fear for her safety there you know. Who knows what Simmons has the power to do?"

The general regarded Jack carefully. He understood the strain that was on the SG-1 leader. Captain Kelly, while competent was no Sam Carter. His agenda was also clear, and Jack had taken particular care to ensure that he did things by the book. Hammond had tried to keep them from the knowingly dangerous planets, citing inexperience and team cohesion as his reasons.

However, as the number of gate malfunctions, computer glitches and software program problems were increasing; actually being able to send teams on missions was becoming more challenging. The base could certainly do with Sam back, and they had nothing to lose by asking. "Let's see what we can put together then..."

***

They surrounded her in the shower, eight of them, silently staring, pinning her against the wall. Fernandez grabbed for her breasts, shoving her thigh between Sam's legs. "Missing your sweetheart dyke?" She spat.

Sam swallowed hard, clamping down on her panic. "Get off me bitch." She gritted. She was rewarded with a harsh slap and a nipple pinch.

Fernandez' hands roamed over her naked flesh, catching on raw skin, clawing down her abdomen in a way that made Sam shiver in disgust. The former sergeant licked obscenely at Sam's neck, smirking as she tried vainly to pull away and then without warning shoved her hand hard and fast between Sam's thighs, pushing savage fingers into places they had no right to be. Sam struggled to free an arm or leg, but to no avail: the rest of the group held her captive against the stark white tiles. The assault continued, her insides clenching ferociously against the invasion as her attacker shoved harder and harder. The others egged Fernandez on, relishing the power over their captive.

Sam could not stifle a scream as the brutal thrusting drove into her abdomen. Fernandez stilled long enough to deliver a sharp blow to Sam's ribs, before renewing her efforts. Sam could feel her legs giving out, black spots dancing before her eyes as she struggled to get breath into her lungs. Fernandez ripped her fingers from Sam's centre and grabbed at her captive's throat, bringing her sweaty face to within inches of Sam's. "You better watch yourself Carter. We don't like your type. Do you understand me?"

Sam raised her eyes and despite the pain coursing through her, she spat in Fernandez' face. Before she knew it, she had been launched across the showers, flying through the air, crashing to the floor then sliding rapidly over the wet tiles before slamming hard into the opposite wall. Stunned, she lay there not moving, hoping her tormentors had had their fill.

Minutes passed and she was not accosted again. Sitting up gingerly, unsure of what damage had been inflicted; Sam pulled her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees, hoping to calm her shaking limbs. She watched idly as a thin stream of blood was washed from between her legs towards the drain. Closing her eyes, Sam fought the tears; she had never felt so utterly alone.

***

"No!" Kinsey bellowed, "Absolutely not!" his face puce with anger. He threw the file containing the suggestion across the desk, the papers scattering everywhere. "How do they have the audacity to even ask?" he thundered.

Simmons waited for the tirade to finish, standing for several moments in silence as he watched the senator try to rein in his temper. He cleared his throat and offered simply, "We could use this to our advantage."

Taking several calming breaths, Kinsey looked at him questioningly, "How?"

Seeing the redness begin to dissipate, the colonel moved to sit at the desk and rescue the proposal. "Well, the SGC want Carter there to help with the running of the base. This would be a real opportunity for us," he paused as he realized his slip, "for YOU - to have even more control. Think of how much impact it would have on them to actually watch her suffer. Rather than now, when all they can do is imagine."

Kinsey moved slowly back to his chair, a familiar glint in his eye. "Go on, let me hear what you're thinking..."

***

It had been a particularly harrowing few days with the NID. They had made her use the Goa'uld personal shield; bombarding her with weapons and physical blows to see how it reacted. They had beaten her hard when she had refused to cooperate and tried to attack them. She was sporting some vicious bruises on her legs and torso. Several of the drugs they had experimented with had caused adverse reactions; her stomach was tender and her whole system out of whack.

They had kept her for longer than usual too, not returning her to the wing until the early hours of Sunday; so when Sam heard the click of the bars unlocking on the Monday morning, her first thoughts were that she had missed the 0630 alarm.

Before she knew what was happening though, a gag was in her mouth being pulled taut and tied behind her head. And then a rough hood was shoved down so she couldn't see. Disoriented and still groggy Sam's attempts at defense were uncoordinated and useless. Her wrists were drawn together with some type of binding and her arms forced above her to be restrained on the bed head. Writhing instinctively to make it harder for her attacker, Sam quickly worked out what was about to happen.

A powerful blow to her solar plexus drove the breath from her and effectively ended her resistance. Fighting to drag air into her lungs past the gag took all her energy and she could do nothing as she felt her pajamas being tugged down her legs. The air was cold on her skin; Sam felt the mattress dip and her knees were forced apart. Her top was pushed up, exposing more of her flesh, her nipples reacting to the frigid air.

And too soon after her encounter in the shower, her body was violated again. He shoved into her rhythmically, hands pawing at her breasts, hot mouth kissing and biting her neck and torso. Trying to detach herself from the ordeal, Sam willed her mind away to somewhere less dark.

Janet's head was cradled in her lap, Sam running her hands through auburn locks, stroking the doctor's cheek, tracing her lover's lips with her fingers. "I love you Janet Fraiser." She whispered. They were on the bench that graced the porch of Jack's cabin, Sam sitting, Janet stretched out horizontal. The sun had traversed enough sky to offer them warm autumnal rays, and the air was still and silent. Sam bent to kiss her lover, the awkward stance affording her no more than a peck.

One of her hands, slid down the doctor's body, reaching the bottom of her shirt and snaking up onto bare skin. As her fingers ran higher, it became clear that her lover was not wearing a bra. Sam swallowed audibly as she brushed up against a perfect breast, unable to resist moving further to caress a nipple.

Janet moaned indulgently, her beautiful eyes closing involuntarily at the sensations running through her. "I think we should go inside," she managed. In one liquid motion, Sam gathered her lover into her arms and stood, Janet squealing like a teenager as she was lifted from the bench. Their eyes locked and the smoky promise Sam saw almost caused her to drop her precious load...

His deep guttural moan as he came snapped Sam from her thoughts. Her insides were on fire, her skin burning from his touch. He withdrew quickly, eliciting a groan of pain from her, Sam instinctually writhing to get him away from her. Through the hood she could feel his hot breath on her face as he came near to her ear. "I told you I would show you."

Sam held her breath, wondering what else he would do. His strong hands rolled her onto her side, away from him and the hood was yanked roughly off her head. She had no strength or desire to turn and watch him leave.

***

Carrick stood uneasily at the desk; everyone else had been out of their cell for a full thirty seconds already. He could feel the itch of impatience beginning to build in the other inmates. He counted out a further 15 seconds, his own anger rising steadily. Unable to contain himself any longer he barked, "Don't make me come and get you Carter."

There was no response; he didn't hear any reaction to his threat. He nodded to Jenkins and Ayres to watch the rest of the prisoners and strode noisily down the landing. "I swear Carter, you better be dying or there will be hell to pay."

He swung round the bars of her cell, his momentum abruptly halted by the sight before him. Carter lay on her side, her wrists bound to the bed head, she was naked and there was blood on the sheets beneath her. Carrick met her eyes and saw the pain in them but also anger. He quickly recovered himself, stepping back outside the cell he radioed for a medical team and barked for Jenkins to get everyone else to breakfast.

***

Jefferson came to see her in the infirmary. "What happened?"

*Like he didn't know.* "I was raped." Sam spat. "Someone came into my cell, tied me up and raped me."

"Do you know who?"

She bit back on her first response. If she named Mathews he would deny it, look to cover his tracks if he hadn't already. If she challenged Jefferson to investigate, it might work out better. "No. He blindfolded me." This was the truth. "I didn't see his face."

"I will catch whoever did this Carter, be assured of that."

Sam wanted to laugh. She doubted very much that anything would seriously be done. She effectively dismissed him by rolling away from him and closing her eyes.

***

"You're joking, right?" Janet was perched on a stool in Daniel's lab, nursing a cup of coffee. She idly noted the tremor of her hands as she took in Jack's words.

"No." he stated evenly. "Hammond and I have been working on a proposal for several weeks. Kinsey has agreed, in principle."

She swallowed nervously, a swirl of emotions rising up in her body. "When?" was all she could manage.

"They're still thrashing out the details. Kinsey won't agree unless it is completely watertight. Nor will he make it easy for us."

"Or Sam." He added, "but at least she'll be here."

Janet nodded in agreement; at least Sam would be back at the mountain.

***

It had been three weeks since Mathews had attacked her. Despite his reassurances, Jefferson had done nothing about bringing him to justice. Sam's patience had run out. As she sat eating what passed for stew, she watched the man loiter by the stairs, leering at other inmates; it was then that she decided enough was enough.

The good soldier in her continued to argue against seeking revenge, but since finding herself discarded so readily by the military, that part was easier and easier to silence. Clearing her plate away, she moved towards him, in her usual routine of going up to her cell. He caught her eye and winked at her, which she ignored.

His position at the bottom of the stairs made him vulnerable; Sam took one step up and then swung her right leg to catch Mathews in the stomach with her foot. He doubled over and she sprang down from her higher stance to take advantage of his vulnerability. As she stooped to him, he uncurled enough for her to line up another shot. She drew her hand back and slammed her fist into his jaw, all the pent up fury of the last six months exploding from her in one punch. The release of adrenalin was powerful and she was suddenly not content with hurting him only a bit. She lifted her left foot and deliberately stamped down between his legs. Mathew's howled in pain, but undeterred Sam struck again with her foot on his ribs, at the same time grabbing his right arm viciously, twisting it until he screamed.

Sam's assault was quickly halted as she was bundled to the floor and pinned hard by a knee in her back. As her wider awareness returned Sam became conscious of the alarm sounding and a crowd gathered round her. Her arms were pulled harshly behind her and cuffed together and she was yanked to her feet. She looked down at Mathews who was still squirming and groaning on the floor. She was surprised not to feel anything for him, despite the pain she had inflicted.

Two officers gripped her arms tightly and hauled her from the scene. She lifted her head and caught Fernandez' eyes. Those eyes held something of regard – respect even – not the usual hostility.

They marched Sam off to the secure block. The cell had a metal door, a low bunk and a toilet pan: nothing else. She had to present her cuffed wrists through the slot in the door; the officers were taking no chances with her.

***

Sam stood before Jefferson, hands restrained behind her; her time spent in lock up having done little to dissipate her anger. "You broke his jaw, his arm and three ribs. He will probably never have children."

"He raped me."

"You told me you didn't know who had done it."

"And you told me you would find out. Which you didn't. It wouldn't have been hard, someone had to override the gate locks, there are cameras on every level. So either whoever you assigned to investigate is in with Mathews, or you are."

"Are you making an accusation Carter?"

"Just an observation sir."

"You are on a schedule three for two weeks and you lose all your privileges. Carrick."

The officer stepped into the office and led Sam away.

They stopped outside her cell. Carrick moved inside and shook out an extra-large clear plastic bag. He stepped over to the bed and removed Sam's extra blanket and pillow. Next he turned to the desk and swept everything on it into the bag: library books, pens, notepad, sculpture, yo-yo.

Finally he reached up to the shelf and took down the things he found there; new socks, soap, shampoo, the framed picture and finally her journal. Sam wanted to plead with him to leave that behind, knowing it had Janet's precious letters tucked in the front cover. She clenched her teeth together, willing herself to remain silent, praying he wouldn't be more thorough.

She forced herself to watch him, not to look to any hidden places she had found. Thankfully he appeared content with his haul, doing one final cursory sweep before moving back towards her. Silently he removed the cuffs and nodded for her to enter, which she did without protest.

Once she knew she was completely alone, she reached into her hiding place and wrapped her fingers round the small heart. Clutching it tightly in her fist, Sam sank to the bed, head in her hands and wondered if the attack on Mathews had been worth it.

TBC

Next: Changes