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The Price of Failure	By : angela9in Category: Stargate: SG-1 > General Views: 1855 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate: SG1, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Price of Failure
- 1
Title: The Price of Failure

Author: Darkestangel

Summary: Jack recalls one of his darkest moments in Special Ops before joining the Stargate Program

Comments: darkestangel@darknessprevail.com

Website: www.darknessprevails.com

Archive: yes, with permission

Warnings: violence, crude language, angst, non-con, overall darkness, character death
Pairing: Jack/other

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: They�re not mine. I am only borrowing them from the brilliant creators of the movie/show, MGM, Showtime, and Sci-Fi Channel.

An Iraqi POW camp, 1991
I had been sent, along with Charlie Kawalsky and three other Ops members; including Major Cromwell, to monitor the Saudi Arabia border for rouge Saudi troops sneaking weapons to the Iraqi soldiers. The Saudi government had promised their support, but a few of the Saudi troops weren�t so supportive of the American efforts to free Kuwait from Iraq.
We had arrived at the designated AOL at 22:00 hours. Even at night, the desert was hot as hell, and the sweat dripping into my eyes was stinging, and I was having problems seeing through my infrared binoculars. I felt confident in the information that had been gathered about the weapons operation. Intel had been gathered for days about the smuggling of weapons into Iraq and we had been sent to simply take pictures of the transaction between the Saudi and Iraqi soldiers. The pictures could be later used against the Saudi or Iraq government when the Gulf War was over.
It was suppose to be a simple mission with a quick objective, but the ambush that awaited my team was anything but simple�
When I awoke, I found my self hog-tied to a pole inside a tent. I could tell by the heat in the tent that it was at least 120 degrees outside. It had to be mid-afternoon in the desert, and my mouth was suddenly parched for water. I tested my ropes only making them tighter with my struggles. I clenched my teeth in pain as I felt the ropes cut into my bound wrists. That was definitely not the way out of my predicament.
I wasn�t sure if this was a Saudi or Iraqi camp, but I hoped for my team�s sake that it was a Saudi encampment. I looked around for signs of my team, and I sighed in relief when I saw Hunter and Mercer in the far corner of the tent tied to their own perspective poles, but I saw no signs of Charlie Kawalsky or Major Cromwell. Charlie and I had known each other since Beirut, and I knew that he was capable of taking care of himself, but I couldn�t help the clench of despair creeping into my stomach.
The hours crawled by slowly; each passing one making us thirstier and more agitated. I knew that it was all a head game to make us wait. It is a common practice for captors to make their victims wait in anticipation. It was a practice used often by the NVA in Vietnam. They would leave a prisoner alone in a hole in the ground without food or water for days; only to have the prisoner cry in thankfulness when they were pulled out of the hole and given food and drink. The victim would then feel compelled to give the captor something in return for their �kindness�. It would usually be information, but sometimes the poor soldier would give the slimy NVA whatever they wanted for a nice clean cot and a warm meal. I had been personally spared that ordeal in Vietnam, but I knew plenty of young boys who didn�t get so lucky.
I managed to sleep despite the sounds of heavy armory being moved outside. We were definitely not at the designated AOL we had been dropped off at the night before. We had been captured easily, over-powered by at least twenty soldiers. We never really had a chance to fight because the bastards shot us up with tranquilizers. Somehow, they had known of our presence, and they came prepared. I didn�t know what scared me more: the fact that they wanted us alive or the fact that Kawalsky wasn�t here alive with us. I hoped that somehow he had escaped, but I knew that in all likelihood he was either shot in the head or dying of dehydration in the desert.
It had been nearly 48 hours since we had been allowed to eat, drink, stand, or take care of bodily functions. Both Hunter and Mercer had looked on in mortification when they could no longer hold their bladders. I tried to reassure them that it was okay that they had soiled their uniforms.
�Boys, it�s okay. Uncle Sam will get you a new uniform when we get back to base. I told you two not to drink that 44 oz. Big Guzzle before we left.� They both smiled at my attempt to lessen the humiliation. I wasn�t sure how I had managed to hold in my own fluids. I felt like I was going to bust a gut at any moment.
�Look guys, when they finally come in here I want you to stay quiet. Don�t give them any information except name, rank, and serial number. We have been trained to take pain, and we will not tell them anything under any circumstances. I don�t care if they threaten to kill us or torture us. We will not break. Is that understood?�
In unison they responded, �Yes sir!�
�I won�t sugarcoat this for you. We�ve been gone for 48 hours, and we all know what that means. As far as the Air Force is concerned, we�re already dead. They can�t come in here and rescue a team that supposedly doesn�t exist. The only way we�re getting out of here is if Kawalsky is out there somewhere with a plan, or we manage to cut ourselves free, and walk out of here on our on two feet.�
�We understand Sir.�
Their understanding didn�t make the truth any easier. It was a part of being in Special Ops. You didn�t exist, your mission didn�t exist, and so your death didn�t exist. I wasn�t so sure that Sara and Charlie would agree with that assessment, but I had no choice to accept the truth.

I had managed to sleep for a few more hours, but I was awoken by the sound of water hitting the side of the tent or some other type of soft material. When I looked over at Hunter and Mercer, I saw three Iraqi soldiers pissing on them. They couldn�t move or protect their faces. All they could do was close their eyes and their mouths hoping to avoid urine drink.
�Cut it out!� I demanded.
They ignored me laughing as they took turns covering my men with their warm piss.
It was difficult to speak with my dry mouth, but I managed to blurt out, �Stop it you fucking pricks!�
That got their attention. They turned towards me, �Their uniforms were already soiled American. What is it hurting?�
�Their dignity?�
The tallest of the soldiers walked closer to me smiling cruelly, �Dignity? There is no such thing as dignity in this camp. If you survive this place and you return home to your colored television and fast cars; you will never find your dignity again, because it will be here with me forever.�
I chose to ignore the threat, and instead focused my attention on Hunter and Mercer who were shaking in humiliation from their baths. They were both First Lieutenants who were not yet thirty. They had been on my team for three years, and I cared greatly for them, but I somehow I knew that they would never leave this place. They weren�t strong enough or experienced enough. I had just turned forty, and I wasn�t even sure if I was strong enough to survive this place.
�Let�s begin shall we? My name is Abdul. What is yours?�
I ignored him and instead closed my eyes. My head was hurting me and my back and knees were cramping from the uncomfortable position.
�You have no dog tags around your neck, so obviously you are SOG.�
�SOG, what�s that?�
He smiled at me in apparent amusement, �You are going to be fun aren�t you? You�re obviously the commanding officer of your team, and if I have to I will use your younger teammates to make you talk.� One of the other soldiers grabbed Hunter�s face and held a knife to it. I knew that he would cut his face or maybe even slash his throat if I didn�t tell him my name.
�Fine, I�ll tell you the standard line.�
�Standard line,� Abdul asked.
�You know; name, rank, serial number.�
�Ah, I see. You may begin there, but you will tell me so much more that that I�m afraid.�
One look into his eyes and at his soldiers told me that Abdul meant business. This was not going to be pretty, �I�m Major Jack O�Neill United States Air Force. Do you want my number too?�
�Yes, that might be quite helpful to me Jack.�
�That�s Major O�Neill to you, and my number is AF651425.�
�Thank you for that information Jack. You may release the boy for the moment.� The other soldier released Hunter�s head and stepped back away from him.
Abdul continued to stare at me as if I was his prey, �Now that wasn�t so hard was it Jack? I think you should be rewarded for your cooperation. Would you like some water?�
�Yes, please.�
One of the other soldiers brought me over a ladle of warm water from a bucket in the corner. The water had been in the tent the entire time waiting for us to gain access. It wasn�t the best I had ever drank, but I wasn�t about to complain. I got just enough to coat my throat with moisture, and I desperately tried to lick my lips. They were chapped and burning, and they were on the verge of cracking.
�You wouldn�t happen to have some Blistex would you?� He looked at me in confusion, �Something for my lips. They�re very dry.�
�I have some Vaseline. What would you be willing to do for it?�
�Be quiet and remain tied to this pole?�
�Why don�t you tell me about your mission instead?�
�What mission? We were on our way to Saudi Arabia to buy a camel.�
�I�m glad you find this so amusing Jack. I wonder if he does,� he asked pointing at Mercer who was kicked hard in the face by one of Abdul�s henchmen.
I refused to look Mercer in the eyes because I knew that it would make it extremely difficult not to break if I felt sorry for him. Instead, I focused on Abdul�s boots, which were polished clean despite the sand.
�I�m going to ask you once more Jack. What is your mission?�
�You know I can�t tell you that so why bother asking?�
�Because it will be fun to break you, and besides, I�m really bored. You Americans came right in and saved the day as usual, and my men have been stuck out here waiting to be called into a battle that will never need us. I promised myself that if I captured one of you I would have some fun.�
�I�m not the playing type.�

�You SOG men take yourselves too seriously. Why live if you can�t have fun?� He walked over towards Mercer who was still recovering from the boot in his face, �Why don�t I show you what I like to do for fun Jack?� He grabbed Mercer�s neck, yanked it backwards, and slit it with one quick slash with a knife he yanked out of his own boot.
�No!� I screamed in agony as Mercer began bleeding to death in front of me. �Why the hell did you do that?�
�What is your mission Jack? Perhaps, your other friend would like to have some fun as well?�
I looked at Mercer who had gone pale and who was breathing in his last breaths. The blood had spilt onto the sand and was being quickly absorbed, but some of it had found its way to Hunter�s leg. He was shaking in fear at being next. I knew that Hunter was married with a baby on the way, but I couldn�t tell Abdul the mission. I had been trained to take pain and humiliation, but nothing could prepare me for causing my team member�s deaths.
�I can�t tell you that.�
�Well, that�s a shame my friend,� he remarked as he promptly stabbed Hunter in the heart. I closed my eyes in guilt trying to block at his moans of pain and struggles to breathe. I thought of his young wife who was now a widow, and I thought of my own family as it became obvious that I wouldn�t make it home either. The bastard was homicidal, and he was getting off on killing us.
�Open your eyes O�Neill. I want you to see them dying.�
I closed my eyes tighter ignoring his request. He grabbed the back of my hair roughly, �Open them now or I will cut them out!�
I immediately opened my eyes knowing that he would do what he had threatened. I watched as both Mercer and Hunter died because of me. The guilt was almost enough to cause me to break, but if I told him the information now, their deaths would have been for nothing.
�Are you happy with yourself Jack?�
�Not particularly, but I did what I was trained to do.�
�What�s that? Kill your own men?�
�To not tell assholes shit about my missions!�
He laughed maliciously at me, �Oh Jack, this was not me trying to get information from you. This was me getting rid of trash. Trust me, when I really want the information from you, I will be much more creative. Now, why don�t you help me dispose of the trash? It will start stinking in this heat, and the flies will be unbearable.�
�Fuck you.�
�Perhaps you want me to leave their rotting corpses in your tent? Do you really want to look at them everyday until they decay into ashes? Do you really want the flies crawling on you that once crawled on their putrid flesh?�
He was good. I had to admit it, �Fine, untie me and I will help.�
When the ropes were cut, I was too cramped to move. It hurt to move my joints that had been tied up for more than two days. I tried to rub my legs and my arms to get circulation back into them, but my feet still felt like needles were being stuck into them. I moaned in discomfort when Abdul pulled me up onto my feet. He supported me as I adjusted to standing once again. I almost fell right back down, but he pulled me back up to my feet.
�I realize that you can hardly move Jack, but if you try to escape, I will castrate you. Do you understand?�
Once again I feared that he would fulfill his threat, �Yes.�
He led me over to the bodies and directed me to help him with Hunter, while the others grabbed Mercer. I struggled to carry Hunter�s legs; exhaustion, hunger, thirst, and guilt threatened to topple me over. Abdul stopped frequently allowing me to adjust to the weight; for that I was most grateful. Perhaps, he wasn�t a total monster.
It was nightfall outside, and I saw small fires burning for cooking and possible warmth. I knew immediately that we were no where near the Saudi border. The fires would not be allowed so close to American patrols. We must have been further in Iraq away from the American patrols. I knew then that there was little chance of rescue.
As we headed to a much larger bonfire, I realized Abdul�s intentions. He made me toss Hunter into one of the larger fires, and I felt tears in my eyes as I watched both Hunter and Mercer lifeless bodies being charred. This was not the right way to bury friends, but I was forced to watch as their skin turned black and began peeling off.
�That didn�t take long,� one of the other soldiers motioned over towards me. I saw Abdul smile when he too noticed the tears in my eyes. I had a feeling that they wouldn�t be the last tears they�d see�

Mercifully, I was allowed to sleep the remainder of the night, but I couldn�t get the image of their bodies burning out of my mind. I could still smell the flesh as it burnt and turned the smoke chalky gray. The guilt alone would have been enough to drive some men insane, but I managed to hold on despite the blame and remorse I felt.
The following morning, I was given more water and a some sort of soup that looked like something I might have thrown up on one of those wild Air Force Academy parties I frequented when I was younger. Again, I didn�t complain about the soup or warm water. I needed all the nourishment I could get. I still couldn�t figure out why I was alive? It�s not like we were going to lose this war to Iraq. What military advantage did Abdul hope to gain by interrogating me?
It was later that afternoon that I learned Abdul�s true intentions�
He walked in to the tent alone carrying my back pack of supplies. I was now tied to the pole only by my hands. My legs were straight out and tied at the ankle. They had left enough length in the rope at my hands, so that I could lay down flat on the ground if I chose. I was now also seated on a large colorful blanket that kept the sand away from me. I thought that the whole setup was a little too comfortable for a prisoner who was getting ready to be interrogated.
He bent over and gave me a few sips of some sort of fruity drink, �Hello Jack, how did you sleep?�
I wanted more of the drink, but he pulled it away, �Like shit.�
He only smiled at me and began rummaging through my pack. I saw him place several of my items on a wooden table; including, my toothpaste and tooth brush, my comb, my soap and razor, my non-scented deodorant, and my Blistex.
�I tell you what Jack. Every time you tell me something, I�ll let you have one of these precious items for today. I know you would love to brush your teeth. It has after all been three days.�
�You know I won�t talk about my mission.�
�Okay, how about you tell me why you joined the Air Force?�
I looked at him suspiciously, �What are you up to? Are you trying to get me to like you are something? It�s a little too late for that.�
�I just want to offer you a chance to clean up a little, and I thought it would be fun to learn about you.�
�You are so full if it Abdul.�
�Full of what Jack,� he smiled.
�Shit.�
�Actually, I used the restroom this morning, so I�m not full of shit. Are you Jack? It has been a really long time since you�ve had the opportunity.�
�You really get off on talking about piss and shit don�t you?�
�I�m not here to argue with you O�Neill. Tell me why you joined the Air Force and I will give you the toothpaste and toothbrush.�
�I like to fly planes and jets.�
�More please.�
I rolled my eyes in frustration, �I like to jump out of planes, and I really like the dress uniform.�
�How long have you been a Major?�
�Hey, I answered your question. You owe me my toothpaste.�
�I suppose I do,� he answered dragging the pale of water over to me. He wet the brush in the water, squeezed some paste on the brush, and straddled my legs. When he put the brush up to my teeth, I closed my mouth. �Open up Jack. This is the only time I will make this offer. You�re teeth can rot out for all I care.�
I begrudgingly opened my mouth and allowed the bastard to brush my teeth. He was smiling the entire time as he brushed up and down and side to side. He periodically had me spit out days of plague and sand from my mouth.

When he finished brushing and rinsing me, he bent down to smell my breath, �Much better,� I recoiled as he pressed his dry lips to mine without approval. It was a simple quick kiss, but it caused a knot of dread to form in my stomach. �Now, what shall you get next? I think you really could use the soap and razor. Jack, you really do stink.�
�That�s not exactly my fault Abdul, and sense when do Iraqi soldiers give a shit about hygiene. I�ve yet to see you unshaven or stinky like the others. What�s up with that? Why are you so clean? You�re supposed to be fighting a war.�

�I�m asking the questions here O�Neill, not you. Now, how long have you been a Major?�
�Five years.�
�Will you be a Colonel soon?�
�If I survive you I will be. I�m due for a promotion in a year or two, but that doesn�t make me anymore valuable than any other soldier if that�s what you think.�
�That�s not what I�m thinking Jack. I just want to know how good you are. I�ve never had a high ranking officer in my clutches before.�
�Clutches? You make it sound like I�m your pet or something.�
�Soon perhaps,� he lathered the soap up and began applying it to my face. I allowed him to shave me since he did have a razor blade in those murderous hands. It hurt because the stubble had grown so long, but I was relieved to be smooth-skinned again. As he was shaving me, the water trickled down my face onto my chest. The dripping water didn�t go unnoticed by him. He opened up my shirt and watched the water trickle down my chest and onto my thinning stomach. I watched as he lathered more soap onto his hands.
�Don�t bathe me Abdul.�
�Why not? I know how you Americans like to be clean.�
�I don�t want you touching me like that.�
�Don�t be ridiculous Jack. I�m just trying to make you feel better,� he ignored my protests and began bathing me anyway. He was making a mess with the rinse water, and I raised my hips in discomfort as the water pored down onto my crotch, �Oh look what I�ve done now. I got you all wet down there didn�t I?�
�Abdul, don�t touch my pants. Get the fuck off of me.�
Once again he ignored me and he lifted off of me so that he could remove my pants. I struggled as he unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down off of my hips. He yanked me down onto my back and he pulled my pants down to my tied ankles.
�Stop being such a baby Jack. Get still,� he looked down at my GI issued boxers and smirked, �Looks like I got those wet as well.�
I didn�t bother protesting as he yanked the boxers down to my ankles. I knew that this was part of his plan to start with. He wanted to fuck me, and there wasn�t a whole lot I could do to stop him. Not only was I tied, but he was taller and heavier than me as well. I watched in horror as he brought the soap down to my stomach and groin area. I heard him humming softly to himself as he rubbed me tenderly clean. For the life of me I couldn�t figure this guy out. One minute he was killing my friends, and the next he was being all tender to me. One thing my Ops training taught me was to always remain weary of unpredictable people, and Abdul definitely fit that bill.
I felt his soapy hands drift down my hips, my legs, and back up to my arms. He bathed every inch of my body including my feet, once he had untied them and removed the rest of my clothing. I knew that I could kick at him, but what was the point of that? I knew I couldn�t get my hands untied, and I was sure that there were guards outside.
Once he rinsed me, he reached to turn me over onto my stomach, �I�m clean enough Abdul. I really appreciate you doing this, but I�m cool really.�
Again he gave me that malicious smile, and turned me over with minimal effort. The now twisted rope bit into my wrists once again. I felt my circulation being cut off, but more importantly, I felt his hot breath on my neck smelling me once again.
�You smell so much better Jack. I�m almost finished with your bath, but first he have to make sure all parts of you are clean,� he massaged the soap onto my sore back and I couldn�t help the moan of pleasure that came out of my mouth. He washed my legs, my arms, and finally my ass. I knew that was where he would play close attention. He lathered the soap on each cheek causing the soap to seep down my crack onto my hole. I felt his finger caressing my crack and my hole softly rubbing the soap in thoroughly.
As disgusted as I was by his presence, I really did like being clean again, but I didn�t want a soapy finger inside of me, �Abdul, please don�t stick the soap inside of me. It will burn for hours.�
He paused for a moment contemplating my request, �If I do as you ask what shall you do for me?�
�Not struggle.�
He understood my simple response in complete clarity. He pulled his finger away, and I felt the warm water rinsing me instead. It was obvious that he would take me tonight, and I so hoped he would keep me on my stomach, so that I would not have to look at him.
He snapped his fingers and a soldier appeared at the opening if the tent. I turned my head in shame as he leered at my naked body. I was relived when I heard the tent close once again. I wondered what the soldier had brought Abdul. I hoped it wasn�t a tool of pain or torture. I was already emotionally raw from guilt. I couldn�t handle torture too. I could handle him fucking me if he was gentle. That was why I had volunteered not to struggle. I could handle being raped, but I didn�t want total humiliation and pain.
�Look at me Jack.�
I did as I was told, and I saw him undressing. I wanted to turn my head when I saw his enormous cock, but I didn�t dare. I watched as he stroked himself to an impossibly hardness, and I swallowed in dread of the pain to come.
�Please don�t hurt me.�
�If you�re nice, I�ll play nice. Get on your knees for me.�

Once again I did as I was told. I didn�t want to be ripped in two by him. I had been with a couple of men before, but never anyone as large as him. I felt him push my legs apart with his knees, and I felt a slick finger exploring the area around my entrance. I knew than the soldier had brought him some sort of oil, and I was grateful once again for his kindness.
He opened me up one finger at a time, preparing my tight hole for his massive tool. I tried to relax and let him in, but I was having a hard time ignoring the voices outside the tent who were obviously hanging around hoping to hear me scream or beg.
�Relax Jack. I won�t hurt you. Open up for me, and let me give you pleasure,� he reached around with his other hand and grabbed my cock gently. He coaxed it to hardness just as I felt him breach my entrance with his thick hard prick. I couldn�t hold in the moans of pain as he impaled me with as much tenderness as possible. Once completely inside, he grabbed hold of my hips and pumped in and out in an agonizing rhythm. He was teasing me not giving me his all, and it took everything in me not to beg my rapist for more.
�Does it feel good Jack? I want to please my beautiful American.�
For someone who was supposedly getting raped, I was really getting into his caresses and his sweet words. If this was what being a POW meant I should have gotten myself captured earlier, �Yes�it feels good, but could you go a little faster?�
I heard him laughing at my request, and he indeed did pick up speed as well as hardness. He pumped in and out of my tight hole feeling me with an intense pleasure I had never felt before. I arched my back begging for more of his dick in me, and he grabbed my cock stroking it masterfully. I had been claimed before by other men, but none so well. The room seemed to be buzzing with some sort of energy, and my head was spinning from the pleasure his dick and hand was giving me.

�Yes�that�s it, you�re fucking me so good Abdul. Don�t stop. Take me�yes!!� I shuddered with a mind-blowing orgasm. While I spilt my seed on his hand, he emptied his inside of me. I wanted to collapse, but he held me up by my hips pumping the last spurts of cum into my hole.
It was while we caught our breath that my senses came back to me fully. I suddenly realized that the buzzing I had felt was other people talking; not outside but inside. I looked around to see three soldiers laughing and clapping at my expense. I shook my head trying to clear it from the Euphoria I had felt only moments earlier. How the hell had I not seen them or heard them earlier?
�Thank you my friends. It was a fine performance. He is a very sweet piece of ass. Now, I finally know what Americans are good for,� he pulled out of me quickly causing his semen to trickle down my thigh. �Would you like some more fruity drink O�Neill?�
The soldiers laughed again, and that was when I realized that I had been drugged. I laid there in shame clenching my fists open and closed wishing that his neck was in my clutches. The son of a bitch had taken me against my will, but I was too drugged to realize it. He had made me beg for more, and that was more humiliating than anything else he could have done.
�It�s been fun Jack, but I am through with you. I didn�t realize that you were so, how do you Americans say it? Sluttish? That is a complete turn off for me, so I am afraid that I must turn you over to my three friends here. They really like sluts.� I could have cussed him out. I could have told him off, but I knew that was what he wanted, so I just laid there in silence as he left the tent.
Damn, he was good. He knew exactly what he was doing with me. For the first and only time in my life, I was broken. It was only a matter of time before I would tell him what he wanted. He allowed those three to abuse me daily and nightly for days. He watched as they spat, pissed, and shot their loads on me. He only stood in the corner calling me his �little slut�. He made me beg for his mouth, for his hands, for his cock, but yet he denied me every day. He knew that their cruelty was driving me towards him more, and that was exactly what he wanted from the beginning.
For days they gang raped me with their tongues, fingers, pricks, and fists. I wanted nothing more than to die, or maybe be touched by Abdul again. I wanted the fruity drink and the illusion he had given me that night. I would have said anything to get it back, and he was waiting for the exact moment to strike, but he never got that chance. I was rescued from that hellhole after 101 days of torment. Charlie Kawalsky had managed to escape the initial ambush. He had gotten word back to base camp of our capture, and he had looked for us for days, killing and maiming informants when needed. Once he located the camp, he helped to organize a rescue. I later learned that Major Cromwell had survived as well, but he had abandoned us to death.
It is true that I didn�t tell Abdul about my mission or our base�s location, but I know that I failed in Iraq. I had been broken by Abdul and those other monsters. If he had asked me earlier in the day to reveal the location of our SOG Base I would have done it he would have taken me away from those other soldiers. That fear of losing control and the dread of being manipulated have cursed me throughout the Stargate program. That is why I take all kinds of risk to rescue my team, and I challenge anyone who says that they are our friends. Every time I have been captured, abused, or tormented, I find myself beck in Iraq in Abdul�s clutches. I know that if I survived Iraq I can survive anything, but I can�t help but to feel with dread and fear when a another man approaches me when I am in captivity.
Still to this day, I can�t stand to be in a shower or tub with someone I love. That was the first thing Sara noticed when I came back from Iraq. I eventually allowed her to touch me again in bed, but I never allowed her to bathe me or to shower with me again. She had always cherished those nights in the hot tub or the mornings in the shower, and suddenly I wasn�t willing to give her that simple act if intimacy. It was one of the main contributors in our divorce. She always said that something of me died in Iraq, along with Hunter and Mercer. She speculated that it was my dignity or my ability to be intimate, but I know that what died in me was my ability to love myself, and without that how can you possibly love someone else?

This was previously part of a series called �The Truth Behind the Stargate�, but I got too busy to finish the series, so I made this a stand-alone story instead.

Feedback is appreciated:

darkestangel@darknessprevails.com
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The Price of Failure