Waking
Waking
by Amy Robinson
Summary: Sam wakes to find herself somewhere terrifyingly dark.
Category: Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Season: any Season
Pairing: Jack/Sam
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language, violence
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
Archived on: 02/04/04
'Why is it so dark in here?' Was her first thought upon 'waking' - when had she fallen asleep? The dull ache in the back of her head told her that she hadn't - some asshole had knocked her the fuck out. She groaned and made to sit up, braining herself on the ceiling. But it couldn't be the ceiling...
A growing sense of dread began to knot itself up in her stomach. She tentatively reached into the darkness, feeling for her boundaries. Her fingers found 'walls' just centimetres from her hips and her booted feet pressed against another hard surface. With a muted whimper she squeezed one arm above her head and hit another one. 'Oh God.'
She started to gasp, she knew she shouldn't start hyperventilating but she was trapped in a very small space in the dark. She tried pushing against the lid - if it was a lid - but couldn't budge it. 'Oh God. God help me.'
She couldn't get her feet up high enough to use as leverage, the space was only a foot deep. She tried to remember what she was doing here, who had put her here. Did she want to start screaming or would that only bring her captor running? Was this some inane form of torture? It was working.
"Help me! Somebody help me!" Whatever happened had to be better than this. She banged her hands and knees into the ceiling/lid/whatever screaming, "Please! Somebody help me! I'm in here!"
She thought she could feel the air being used up around her, who knew how long she'd been in there, the oxygen could be almost gone. She was going to suffocate. "Help me!" she screamed, "Help." She sobbed, bruising and breaking her hands as they pounded ineffectually against the top and sides of her coffin. "Somebody..."
And despite her best efforts she began to hyperventilate between screaming at the top of her lungs. No words. No 'help me'. Just screaming. Do not go gentle into the night. She was going to die but she wasn't going quietly.
Then suddenly she saw the light and felt strong hands pulling her up and shaking her. It was like waking all over again except this time the most beautiful face was looking back at her. It wasn't dark, she wasn't blind and he was here. "Sir," she gulped, breathing still erratic as she tried to clamber from her would-be coffin. "Get me out of here - let me out!" she cried, grabbing the front of his jacket.
"Okay, Carter, you're alright. You're okay." He tried to calm her, lifting her from the waist and placing her on too weak legs that crumpled almost instantly. "I got you, I got you." He murmured as she threw her arms around his neck, breaking her heart.
'I'll never let go.'
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