Silenced Screams

Title: Silenced Screams

Author: Zhaan

Email: zhaan@msn.com

Season: Season Seven

Rating: NC-17

Spoiler: None

Category: Romance/Angst/Drama

Pairings: Sam/Jack, some Daniel/Janet, others

Summary: Painful memories from Jack's Black Op days resurface. He must find a way to protect the one he loves and deal with his anguish and pain.

Disclaimer: Sadly they are not mine, more’s the pity. They belong to others. I'm just playing with them, I promise to put them back when I'm finished. I only own this story, which isn't much


ARCHIVE: SJD, Yes. S/J NC17 Fanfic Archive, Fan fiction, any and all others are more than welcome to it. Just drop me a line so that I can come visit it.

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Hi guys,

I'm finally back! Sorry for the long delay...AGAIN. At least this time I've got it all finished. I know I said there was only one more chapter, but as I was writing it I realized there was just too much left to cover to make it all fit in one chapter. So, the bad news is...there's more than one chapter to go. But the good news is...I've written them all. Not only written them but also run them by my wonderful beta Sue who's make them better than I could ever have hoped. So all the way to 'THE END' is finished and all the chapters are being posted together. Since I'll be away from all computers and on-line access for the next month or so, I won’t be able to respond to reviews. However, I appreciate any and all reviews, good or bad, and I’ll be looking forward to reading them as soon as I return, when I’ll respond to them all. Please be patient. I sincerely hope these last few chapters will have been worth the wait.

When I started this it was supposed to take less than a month and here we are past the one-year mark. A very sincere 'thank you' to everyone who's stuck with me through this whole long process. Thank you for all the kind words and encouragements; they've meant more than I could ever say. Thank you. Thank you to everyone who's recognized my struggle and stopped to lend a hand. I could not have done this without all of your help. And last, but certainly not least, a very special thank you to Jenni. This all began with me beta'ing a story for her. Her story plot was enough to tickle my muse into wanting to try my hand at writing. (Not to worry, I've had a nice long talk with my muse and it's promised never to do that again.) She was such a free-hearted person that she allowed me to play around with her plot bunny, even going so far as to allowing me to use some of her original characters. I know of no one else who would be that kind. When you've got the time I would recommend everyone give her story a read. I've even included the link to make it easy for you.

Silent Screams in the Night by i love scifi
http://sjalways-forever.jackandsamforever.net/viewstory.php?sid=1483

Again Thank you one and all. Hope you enjoy. I look forward to your feedback.

~~ Zhaan


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Previously...

Sam had seen the Colonel's eyes finally wander from the tabletop where he'd kept them fixed since they'd all gathered. For just a moment after Janet's eyes had released his he locked his gaze on her. It had been brief...but more than enough to see the demons he was wrestling with. The guilt he felt for being the cause of everyone's pain and suffering. It was enough to make her re-double her efforts...he felt guilty enough without adding to that load by breaking down...falling apart. He didn't need that...didn't deserve that. She was a 'smart girl', a 'strong soldier', she'd been trained to handle personal trauma...it was required of every female in the military...this was no different. She had no doubt he was beating himself up enough.

Jack came out of his thoughts to the sound of Daniel repeating his question. He'd asked several times from the sound of things and gotten no answer but, following a lifetime of ingrained training, General Hammond's voice snapped him back to the present as he repeated the question Daniel seemed to think was so important.

“Jack, you obviously understood what Captain Turner was saying. What was it?” Daniel asked. He could easily see that Jack was a million miles away. Today had taken its toll on everyone, but especially Jack. It would be a long time before any of them recovered.

“Jack, you still haven't explained the meaning of the words Captain Turner kept repeating. What does...” and he rattled off a string of sounds that seemed to match what the others had heard numerous times during Joe's therapy sessions with McKenzie.

“It means 'end my suffering'.” He was speaking now, but no one doubted that Jack was still miles away, lost in his own world. His eyes had lost their focus and his voice was flat...mechanical...like a machine...the machine Jack had left on automatic to deal with the conversation they were having while he was far away.

“When I was a POW...the prisoners that were there with me...we made a pact. When the torture...the pain...the abuse became too much, when we'd given up...given out...couldn't take it anymore, we would pray. Pray to one another and know our prayers would be answered. Know that one of the other prisoners would hear and end our suffering when we were no longer able.”

Ever the inquisitor, Daniel couldn't help continuing to question the language. “I don't recognize that dialect, though. I thought you were held in an Iraqi POW camp. I know all the different dialects and variations of their language, Jack, and that's not one of them.”

“That's because it's a prison language, Daniel. What would be the point of speaking a language the guards could hear and understand? They'd never allow us to carry out our plans if they understood what we were discussing. Every prison...every cell block, always creates it's own language. Ours was only three words...“Silence my screams.”

The room went deadly silent. The silence stretched on for an eternity as the people around the table tried to digest what Jack had just said and grasp the implications of it's meaning...that a people's entire vocabulary could consist of only a three-word prayer. Not a prayer for mercy, or forgiveness, or escape, but a prayer sent out to the others of your own kind for the only grace they had to give. 'Silence my screams'. The sheer enormity of that concept leaving everyone to envision the conditions they had been forced to endure and the depth of despair they must have suffered before whispering that final prayer to 'silence my screams'."


And now on with the story...

Chapter Twenty-Seven


The silence stretched on, everyone lost in the nightmare that had been Jack's life for four months.

“How would CaptainTurner know the meaning of such words, O’Neill?” Teal'c's strong baritone voice brought them back to the matter at hand. “If what you say is correct, only those imprisoned closest to you would understand the meaning. Yet, CaptainTurner spoke them with understanding, begging repeatedly for the release they promised.”

Imagining the horrors Jack had been forced to endure during his days as a POW, no one had given thought to the point Teal’c had just raised. Finally focusing back on the present, Jack’s eyes moved from the tabletop to meet Teal’c’s as the question pierced the whirlwind of his emotions.

“He couldn’t,” Jack realized.

“We were the only ones and none of the others made it out alive…I was the last one.” Jack’s voice was barely above a whisper as he thought of those who’d suffered by his side all those years ago. He could still see the look of gratitude on the face of his last cell mate as he’d released him from the torment he could no longer endure. He could still hear the whispered apologies the man had offered, knowing what his death would mean...there would be no one to answer Jack's prayers now...no one left to release him when his torment became too great.

Clearing his throat he continued, “I never told anyone. There’s no way he could know. I tried my best to bury all those memories. I didn't want to think about it and I sure as hell didn't want to talk about it. They threw doctor after doctor at me trying to get me to talk, but I couldn't…except…” His eyes found Janet’s and locked with hers.

“…except…there was this one intern…she was there all the time…all those nights when I couldn’t sleep…or after I'd had a bad day at therapy…it didn't really matter…she was just always there. She was just this little spitfire of a thing. She reminded me so much of you…” he said to Janet, a small smile stealing across his face for a second.

“...kicking my butt when I needed it...holding my hand when things were bad…” Shaking his head to clear the memory, he finally continued.

“One night after I'd had a really bad nightmare...”

“...she was right there, just like always, holding my hand...”

“...wiping the sweat and tears away...”

“...she said I’d been screaming something over and over…”

“...asked me what it meant…”

“…I told her…”

“...told her about a lot of the things they’d done to me. She was the only person I could talk to. We talked most of the night…”

“...but we never spoke of it again after that night...”

“...and I never told anyone else.” His eyes slowly tracked to everyone in the room at that implication.

“Jack, that would mean Captain Turner really was following you...even back then,” Daniel voiced what they were all thinking. “Watching your every move and from pretty damn close to have overheard a conversation you had with someone in the middle of the night. He would’ve almost had to have been in the same room with you.” Daniel finished, pushing his glasses back up his nose. It made a chill run down everyone’s spine with the implication.

“…flashbacks…“ Janet mumbled to herself, then looked at Jack. “That phrase must’ve triggered flashbacks every time you heard it. It's why you reacted the way you did every time Captain Turner started chanting it.”

Looking around at all of the confused expressions, Janet tried to explain. “It would explain why the Colonel never questioned how Captain Turner not only knew those words but also understood their meaning...the release they promised. You weren't prepared for all the memories those words triggered...all the feelings you'd buried, consciously and subconsciously. It would be like someone had flipped a switch and all of sudden you'd been dropped back into that 'hell hole'. You were so wrapped up dealing with all the things those words triggered that you weren't able to think straight enough to wonder how he even knew them.” Janet paused and looked at Jack.

“I'm sorry, Sir, I really dropped the ball on this. I could see something was wrong but I was so focused on Sam, and Captain...” Janet quickly glanced at Sam and then focused back on Jack. “The first time it happened I thought you were just frustrated that we didn't seem to be making any progress...the way you stormed out of the room...didn't want to talk to anyone...wouldn't talk...even when Sam went after you...considering all she'd been through you would never have talked to her that way. But the second time I could see it was more than that. There was just so much going on that I let it slip through the cracks and I’m sorry, I shouldn't have,” Janet apologized, knowing she'd failed him yet again.

Looking into Jack’s eyes, she could see the truth of her conclusion. Even now she could see the hold it still had on him. He’d learned to hide so much of the darker side of his past...to bury it so that no one could see the price he’d paid…but this nightmare refused to go quietly into the night. It still held its power over him and none of the tricks he’d learned over the years could mask it. Unable to fully hide his emotions, Jack's eyes moved to focus on his unmoving hands resting in his lap, his immobility speaking volumes about the internal struggle he was waging to control and mask his feelings.

Wanting to finally bring this whole nightmare to a close, General Hammond cleared his throat and turned to address his CMO. “So, Doctor, is there anything else that needs to be clarified before this matter can be put to rest?”

Thankful for the General's quick change of subject, Janet was happy to finally be able to take the spotlight off her suffering friends. “No, Sir. I have everything I need and I'll also make available any of the unclassified records the authorities need so that they can wrap it up from their end. I'd say that it's finally over,” Janet answered, as she began to gather her papers together. Looking up, she held the General's eyes as she completed her thought, “Well, as finished as possible, Sir. It's gonna take some time to get over the emotional toll. I would recommend at least a few weeks downtime for both the Major and Colonel, and I'd want to see the results of psych evaluations before I'd clear either of them for active duty, just to be on the safe side, Sir.”

“Two weeks of downtime it is then, Doctor. That includes the rest of SG-1.” Hammond agreed, having complete faith in her judgment. “I'll see everyone back here in two weeks, people. And Major, that means I don't want to see you on this base one minute before then. Understood?” He knew that if he didn't spell it out for her, Sam would find some way to hide out in her lab the entire time. “Doctor Frasier will organize psychological evaluations for the two of you when you return and then we’ll see where we go from there. Understood?”

“Oh, and I'd also like to give you a quick check up before you leave, Sam. You may have healed physically but you've been through a lot of stress today. I'd like to make sure all of your stats are okay before you leave,” Janet threw out absently as they all stood to leave the room.

“But, Janet, I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with me. I...” Sam didn't get the chance to finish before the General interrupted.

“I agree with the doctor, Major. Make your next stop the infirmary, then off the base for a couple of weeks.” Hammond cut off her argument before she could come up with all the reasons she didn't need to be checked out.

“They're right, Carter. During the best of times you don't half take care of yourself. There's no harm in just letting Doc give you the once over,” Jack piped in, adding his voice to those already trying to persuade Sam to take care of herself. “Don't make me have to make that an order, Major.” Sometimes it was like pulling teeth to get her to do what was best for her.

Finally giving in to the overwhelming numbers, Sam moved to follow Janet as the remaining members of SG-1 headed off to the locker room to change.

“Oh, Colonel, that includes you, too. My infirmary, NOW!” Janet threw over her shoulder, catching Jack completely off-guard.


“ME!!! BUT???” Caught completely flat footed, Jack did his best 'fish-face' impression as he tried desperately to come up with a good reason not to visit Dr Frasier's 'little shop of horrors'.

“Good idea, Doctor. I'll make sure he's there as soon I've finished with him. Colonel, my office.” Hammond went into his office and took a seat.

Knowing defeat when he saw it, Jack dropped his head and followed Hammond into his office. The pout on his mouth would have been comical if not for the seriousness of the situation. Even so, he could still hear the low giggles coming from the doctor and Carter as they moved on down the corridor. He'd been set up, he just knew it. Oh well, if it got a smile out of Sam then he could endure a little poking and prodding.

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Jack moved mindlessly down the corridor, his body on autopilot. He understood and appreciated that the General wanted to go to bat for him and save him from an investigation and hearing into Turner's death. He understood everything the General had been trying to tell him...that it hadn't been his fault...that he was as much a victim as all the others...but...

'...but...it WAS my fault.' Those he'd loved had suffered...had died...all because of him. But Hammond didn't want to hear that. Well, whether he listened or not wouldn't change the facts.

'God, I hate Turner for everything he did and I know it couldn't have gone down any other way but...I can also understand how messed up his mind became. Hell, I just barely survived four months as a POW with all the torture they put me through...Turner suffered far worse and for far longer.'

He couldn't make them see what was so clear to him...Turner’s own brand of justice had only added to the list of people hurt because of him...his hands, already covered in blood, now had even more blood on them. He didn't know how he could live with his guilt. Couldn't they see? He didn't need the world trying to make it easier for him. It was time for him to step up to the plate and finally take responsibility so that those around him wouldn't have to continue to pay the price. Hammond wouldn't listen and neither would anyone else.

If one more person told him that he just needed to take some time off...'step back and get a better perspective on things'…he just might deck them.

But that wasn't his priority now...Carter was. Right now he just wanted to get his checkup over and done with so he could go find Sam and get her out of the mountain. He hoped to find Doc still giving Carter the once over.

Still lost in his own thoughts as he turned into Janet's office, Jack was caught completely off guard finding Dixon as the only occupant, sitting at Janet’s desk, somewhat lost in his own thoughts. Expecting to see Janet, Jack could read the surprise on Dixon's face when he looked up to find him at the door.

“If you're looking for Doc, she should be back in a minute,” Dixon answered the question he could tell was on Jack's mind, neither man paying too much attention to the quiet activity of the infirmary.

“Where'd she get off to? I thought she'd still be checking Carter.” Jack's frustration came through as he dropped into one of the infirmary's uncomfortable, molded-plastic visitors’ seats in her office.

Reading Jack's defeated body language, Dixon moved to close Janet's office door, not wanting his next words to be overheard by those in the other room.

“She just needed a few minutes to pull herself back together. This whole 'Turner' thing has opened up a lot of old wounds for her, too,” Dixon said, sitting down next to Jack. “I know she's been doing her best 'doctor in charge and nothing gets to me' routine but she's still got a lot of unresolved shit left over from Sahara. And she knows you've got enough on your plate without also worrying about her. She never wants to draw attention to herself, you know that. She wouldn't do it back then and she won't do it now. She's much better at hiding it all away...punishing herself by cutting herself off from us.”

That made no sense to Jack. “I don't know what you're talking about, Dix. I just saw Doc in the briefing and she was fine. A little tired like the rest of us, maybe...but she wasn't falling apart. And she knows I never blamed her for Sahara. She's got nothing to feel bad about. There was nothing she, or anyone else, could've done.”

Dixon met Jack's confused expression, only this time he doubted it was an act. He knew Jack had been so wrapped up in his own feelings and his worries about Sam that he hadn't seen how much Janet was hurting as well. And, of course, the little Napoleonic needle pusher worked hard to keep people from seeing her pain. He was sure he was probably the only one who’d seen how hard this had been for her.

“She's more than just 'Doc', Jack. She's also Janet and Janet hurts and Janet cries...and Janet blames herself...no matter what you say. You don’t have the monopoly on guilt, you know.” Getting comfortable, Dixon felt it was about time he clued Jack in on a few 'home truths' that he may have missed over the years.

“Don't know if you were in any condition back then to notice, but Janet was the first one to break away after Sahara. She was the first one to become 'self destructive', as Sue called it. While you guys all turned to Black Ops, taking every dangerous mission that came your way, Janet did the same in her own way. She didn't think she deserved to be a part of us anymore so she took up with that asshole she later married...didn't think she deserved any better. Did you know he used to beat her...even before they got married? You should've seen the condition she was in by the time I found her. He almost killed her and she just took it.” Just thinking about that bastard was enough to make Dixon’s blood boil. If he'd had his way he'd have killed him on the spot but, for Janet's sake, he'd turned and walked away. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done. Before he could add any more, Jack's pained voice broke in.

“Oh god, one more name to add to my list...one more person who's had to suffer because of me,” Jack whispered, his shoulders sagging even more under their heavy weight as he buried his face in his hands and fisted his short, military, gray hair. Would there ever be an end to the pain and suffering he'd cause?

“As much fun as you seem to be having wallowing in self pity and blaming yourself for everything short of global warming, we both know better. It's so much easier to blame yourself because it makes you feel like you have some control...that if you could've...” Dixon’s hands waved about, encompassing everything before he continued, “...things would be different.” He tried to explain, but nothing was ever easy with this stubborn Irishman.

“But it WAS all my fault. Everything! Sahara, Sara, Sam, and now Janet. I left him behind. I started all this. But THEY paid the price!” Jack practically shouted at him, no longer able to contain his rage.

“You were a soldier, Jack,” Dixon replied in his most calming voice, pointing out what Jack already knew but seemed determined not to apply to himself. “You went where you were told and did what you were told, just like the rest of us. You were the best man for the mission. It wasn't the first time and it sure as hell wasn't the last. How many times in our careers have we had to make the same call...to send the 'best man' out to do a job, knowing what it might cost him? The only thing you need to ask yourself is 'were you the best man for the mission and did you get the job done?'” Not sure if his words had gotten through, Dixon had said everything he could; the rest would be up to Jack.

“Well, the cost was too high this time,” Jack let him know, feeling the weight settle on his shoulders.

“It was WAR, Colonel…the cost is always too high,” was Dixon’s quiet, emotionless reply as their eyes met in silent communication at the price they and many others had paid. There wasn't much Jack could say; he'd been a soldier all of his adult life, he understood the truth of Dixon's words, even if they were hard to accept. But before his brain had time to formulate any kind of reply, Dixon continued.

“Look, Jack, like it or not, you can't change what’s happened, but...” Dix paused to be sure he had Jack’s complete attention. “…you can do something about the present. Sam needs you...she needs you to be everything she's depended on all these years, not wallowing in your own self-pity. She doesn't need your guilt on top of everything else.

“I think you’re spending way too much time on McKenzie's couch. You're starting to sound like him. The next thing you're gonna tell me is I like blond-haired, blue-eyed women because they remind me of Sahara,” Jack joked, hoping to ease some of the tension that had descended.

“Me sound like McKenzie? Hardly!” Dix said with a shudder of disgust at the very thought. “More like sounding like Sue would be my guess. And as for your taste in women, correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't it the same even before Sahara came to live with you? You’ve always had a thing for blue-eyed blonds. Oh, and speaking of my lovely wife,” Dixon threw over his shoulder with a smile as he left Jack to his misery, hoping something he'd said would make a difference, “She told me to tell you…and I quote…'to get off your sorry ass and stop wallowing in self pity…only pigs wallow'.”

To Be Continued