Cold Day In Hell
by
Jackjunkie
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Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its
characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom,
MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is
for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright
infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story
are the property of the authors. This story may not be posted anywhere
without the consent of the authors.
Cold Day In Hell
"You must fight it."
The rattle of gunfire underscored the words echoing in Jack's head as the cryo unit's lid slid shut, plunging him once more into the misty white world of the deep freeze. Would the high-tech icebox be his salvation... or his coffin?
He felt the first tendrils of frost burn his skin with their icy caress while a tongue of flame licked down his spine - the Goa'uld asserting its presence, wrapping itself more tightly around his spinal column. Jack's body arched, a moan escaping unchecked as spurts of agony shot along his nerves. His head banged uselessly against his prison bed. Great tactic - knock yourself out, O'Neill. That was not the way to dislodge the enemy.
You must fight it.
Good advice but fight it how? The Tok'ra had neglected to pass along any instructions with her warning. Jack knew innumerable methods of physical combat, but how could he battle an enemy inside his own head? Even the mind control techniques he'd learned as part of his Special Forces training hadn't been designed to thwart this kind of alien invasion. If only he could have broken the damn snake in two when he'd first grabbed it from Hathor...
Hathor. She'd reveled in taunting him with his impending possession, exulting in her plans to have Jack kill his teammates once the joining was complete. What was she doing to them while he lay trapped in this limbo? If ever he'd seen a cat at a mousehole, that was Hathor as she looked at his team. Was she playing with them? Torturing them?
He'd seen the predatory way she'd ogled Daniel. Her beloved - what a mockery she made of the term, reminiscing about the joys they'd once shared in each other's arms. Jack had a different word for the "joys" she'd inflicted on Daniel, and it was spelled r-a-p-e. Was she putting him through that horror yet again? Could his sensitive friend survive another violation at her hands? Jack was damned if he'd let that snakehead witch perpetrate such an abomination.
Pain spiking into his head reminded him he was now one of the snakeheads he so despised or at least on the verge of becoming one. He couldn't do anything about Hathor until he'd taken care of her little protege. Which brought him back to the question of how. He couldn't exactly shoot it.
Shooting. Jack vaguely remembered hearing gunshots. Had they been real or hallucinations? He couldn't be sure.
Could it be the cavalry at last? Teal'c was the only member of his team still absent. Since the Jaffa hadn't materialized in Hathor's stronghold with the rest of them, Jack had been hoping he'd somehow managed to escape their fate and would return to rescue them. Teal'c would never abandon them to Hathor. Teal'c...
Teal'c had provided Jack with his one previous experience of carrying a Goa'uld inside his body. When Ma'chello's device had caused them to switch places, Jack had endured a nauseous interlude with Junior keeping him company. Could the Kel No Reem technique he'd learned then help him fight this new Goa'uld threat now?
At a fresh surge of pain, Jack gasped a lungful of frigid air and clenched his teeth to stop their chattering. He could tell even his sweat was freezing, rimming his hair with frost. And he'd thought Antarctica was cold. He'd welcome a spell in that cozy ice cave right about now, broken bones and all. Hell, he'd take another of Carter's splinting sessions over this.
Stow it, O'Neill. With an effort, he forced his wandering thoughts back to the present. He needed to concentrate. As long as he maintained his own separate identity, he would resist. He hadn't let the hellhole of an Iraqi prison beat him; he wasn't about to let this mental prison succeed where that one failed. All he had to do was hold out until the Goa'uld froze to death. Piece of cake.
How had Teal'c explained it? Imagine the center of his mind and focus. Eyes closed, Jack directed his awareness inward.
He spasmed in a paroxysm of agony as the Goa'uld countered his initial attempt at control. Shivering from reaction as much as from cold, Jack panted as the torturous wave ebbed. He tried to gather his shattered thoughts. He had to do this.
A waking sleep. That was how Teal'c had defined the Kel No Reem state. A kind of hibernation - Jack wondered if perhaps the cryogenic process would actually help with that. He was supposed to dream in harmony with the Goa'uld so their subconscious minds would be as one. That would provide a way for the snake to receive information - such as an order to get lost, Jack hoped. How could he get to that state? He recalled Teal'c's steady voice telling him to relax.
Yeah, easy for you to say, Teal'c. Junior's not tap dancing across your nervous system the way this snake's doing on mine.
"You can do it, Jack."
"What?" Jack's head thrashed from side to side, but all he could see was opaque whiteness.
"Hang in there, Jack. You can make it. You have to. I'm counting on you."
There it was again. It sounded like Daniel's voice, but it couldn't be. How could he hear it in here? The cryo shell effectively shut out the outside world, muffling its sights and sounds as the cold was slowly robbing him of his touch. He felt wrapped in a cocoon of cotton batting, isolating his body from his senses.
"Look at me, Jack. If you need something to focus on, look at me."
Twin blue beacons sliced through the encompassing white. Daniel's eyes stared into his, unblinking, unwavering. Opening his own eyes wide, Jack saw Daniel's face swim into focus out of the mist.
"Daniel?" Jack blinked, half-expecting the motion to dispel the apparition, but the face remained. "Oh, I get it. You're part of the dream, right? This is a good sign. I must be getting into Kel No Reem."
"That's right, Jack. I'm here to help you."
"I could use it, thanks. And you helped... back there... too." Jack remembered Daniel's steadfast regard while the Goa'uld entered him. His friend never once looked away, supporting him in the only way he could through the ordeal. Daniel was a lifeline, then and now, leading him away from the alien invading his body back to his humanity.
A new voice drifted into his mind. "A foolish illusion. Nothing can help you now." Jack's own echoing tones mocked him. Another face took shape in the swirling vapor, and he saw another pair of eyes glowing at him - from his own familiar features. He realized he was looking at a vision of his Goa'ulded self.
"This is your future," his mouth formed the ominous words. "You cannot escape."
Jack groaned. "I can. I will. You must think so, too, bucko, or you wouldn't be bothering to persuade me."
Incandescent eyes gleamed menacingly. "It amuses me to do so. I can also communicate thus."
A shaft of fiery pain arced along Jack's nerve pathways, eliciting a strangled sob. How much more of this could he take? God, had Skaara gone through this? Had Kawalsky? No wonder the parasites prevailed over the hosts. Human flesh wasn't designed to take this kind of torture.
As if to emphasize the point, the Goa'uld sent another jolt cascading through his body. Jack's mind screamed protest at the abuse.
"You can make it stop. All you have to do is accept me." The resonant voice modulated to an insidious purr. "It's that easy."
"No." The hoarse reply whispered past dry lips. "I won't... make it easy... for you."
Jack writhed silently at the creature's next attack. He had no screams left. He knew his fortitude was wearing thin. He couldn't do this alone. He needed help.
"Jack. I'm here, Jack."
Slowly the soothing voice washed through his mind, beating back the alien presence. Daniel. The scholar might look harmless, but his gentle friend had a core of pure titanium. Together they might have the strength to hold the Goa'uld at bay.
Together... he extended a hand.
With a startled cry, Daniel snatched his hand away from Jack's touch.
"Daniel?" Confused, he reached out again and grasped the hand firmly. "It's okay. We need to do this together."
"Jack, no." Tugging in vain at the hand locked around his, Daniel slowly sank to his knees. "C-cold," he stammered faintly. "F-freezing m-m-me."
In consternation, Jack stared at the hand trembling in his own. No, not his hand... the Goa'uld's. Horrified, he tried to uncurl his fingers, but the iron grip would not loosen.
A cruel laugh issued from his lips. "You see how easy it will be to kill the weak fools you call friends?" The grip tightened, and he watched the captive shudder in response.
Daniel bent over, pressing his free arm against himself as if in an attempt to conserve the heat draining from his gradually freezing body.
Jack's mind clicked automatically into tactical mode. Something about this image wasn't right. The cryogenic process hadn't harmed the humans; it had preserved them. The cold should only be deadly to the Goa'uld according to the Tok'ra. It was the Goa'uld who should be freezing. This scenario should be working the other way around.
At Jack's realization, Daniel straightened. Ceasing to pull, he instead appeared to concentrate on the linked hands.
Jack saw his own hand begin to shake as the freezing effect reversed to flow the other way. A look of alarm replaced the light of triumph in the glowing eyes.
Yes! They'd found the key to beating it. Now he knew how to fight back until the cold finished it off.
It couldn't last for too much longer. Jack could feel the glacial chill invading his dream state, freezing him into the cryogenic sleep. Had that snake turned into a Goa'uldsicle yet? He couldn't be sure. With the last threads of his weakening perceptions, he reached out for his friend, weaving his vision into a bond powerful enough to withstand the Goa'uld's onslaught.
As he slipped into unconsciousness, Jack knew the battle was over - one way or the other. When he woke up - if he woke up - would it be as himself or as a snakehead? As he drifted over the edge, Jack gazed at the fading image of two pairs of eyes - one glowing with hate, one shining with an azure light of hope. He'd bet on the blue.