In a happy belated birthday to
besyd, I give to her the very belated response to the five things prompt she gave me in September. Of last year. She requested Five nightmares/memories Sam still experiences with PTSD-like intensity. Very vague spoilers for Atlantis S4 in the last one.
1. Sam never spoke about those first confused minutes when Jolinar took possession of her, even though, even years later, on the verge of sleep she sometimes feels like she's drowning in a tumultuous jumble of color, scent, sensation, all swallowed up in the blood and dread bubbling up in her mouth her throat was spasming around something too big, something that ohgodohgod pulsed and writhed downdowndown and she can't breathe her throat burns and she's trying to bring it up, choke it out and she gags on bile and blood a thunderous voice demanding QUIET, drowning out her panicked questions (she can't move? Can't? Why? Ohgodohgodwhat'swrongwrong?) so she can speak, so she can tell the colonel she's all right. What? No! NO! Colonel! THAT'S NOT ME!
2. For weeks after they broke Nem's conditioning and retrieved Daniel, Sam woke soaked in sweat calling out Daniel's name, a morass of guilt and fear churning in her stomach, the scent of burnt skin and hair so real that she gets up and opens her bedroom windows, gulping in the cool night air. Even years later, when she falls asleep in her lab and Daniel is the one to wake her, his hand so hot against the back of her neck (she's always so cold when she wakes up in the mountain), she is sometimes afraid to lift her head when he says, "Sam, go home," because she is certain his face will be wreathed in flame.
3. Megan had never outgrown what Mark charitably called her "horse mania." In the beginning Sam had tacked to the refrigerator pictures of her tiny niece perched on a rotund pony, her boots and grin shining. Now, in her new apartment, just weeks after her transfer to Area 51, she used tiny, plain magnets to place pictures of Megan caught mid-jump in the state finals with her high school equestrian team. They'd arrived with a letter begging Sam to come watch Megan ride. "You promised at Grandpa's funeral that you'd come visit more often," Megan had reminded with all the artful tact of adolescent self-interest.
A week later Sam stood in the barn at the farm where Megan boarded her horse. It was nearing dusk; sunset light crept in through the big doors, scattered off the dust in the air to glitter like stars and Sam blinked as the sweet scent of hay made her sneeze once, twice and again. And Pete, kindness worn thin with repetition, told her this was Montana, and she was sick and just to trust him, okay? Trust him that the click-clack-click was just the sound of shod hooves even though she knew it was too quick, horses didn't skitter like that and why was he holding her arm so tight and Montana? Montana made no fucking sense and when he touched her face - notPetenotPeteohgodFifthinsideherheadagainandaga -
Sam sucked in a shuddering breath, her vision clearing as the sun slipped behind the tall cluster of elms at the west corner of the farm. "Aunt Sam, are you okay?" It was Megan who clutched at Sam's arm, and Megan's fingers that brushed Sam's cheek, coming away wet. San Diego. She was in San Diego. She caught Megan's fingers, pressing a kiss to her dirty knuckles before ruffling Megan's sweat-dampened hair.
"Yeah, sweetie. I'm fine." Sam said, scrubbing at her face with the back of her hand. "Just a touch of hayfever, I guess."
4. Five inches of snow in one night, and Colorado Springs ground to a halt. Sam downshifted again as the driver in front of her fishtailed, his brake lights all but washed out in the glare of sun on snow that burned her eyes, and she couldn't see anything until she blinked away tears which crusted into ice on her lashes. Nothing, nothing but white everywhere, and it made no sense, she'd fucked it all up and now they would freeze to death on some alien planet, and oh god, that sound, that screech, was that the wind, and she's sliding down-
Her head snapped forward and she found herself staring out into oncoming traffic. A man tapped on her window, eyes concerned above the scarf that muffled his shout of, "Ma'am, are you all right?"
5. She knows that it's coming, knows it has to come, but when the Steveston goa'uld pierces her skin, she panics. It's only seconds until the antibiotic overwhelms the immature symbiote, but awareness not hers flares in her mind, and it's there, it's there and she can't move notagainnotagainnotagain and she has to get away but they're holding her down and she's screaming "No!"
"Colonel Carter?" It's Teyla, eyes wide, hand outstretched over Sam's desk. Sam sucks in shallow breaths as she catalogues her surroundings. Office. Atlantis. Safe.
"Colonel?" Her attention swings back to Teyla, who moves slowly and speaks quiet, soothing words, and Sam doesn't understand why until she realizes how hard she's trembling. "Shall I call Doctor Keller?"
"No." Sam settles her hands in her lap, under the table, and though she knows Teyla isn't fooled, Sam clings to creating that illusion of control. "I must have just dozed off. Is there something you needed?"
"You were not answering your communication link." There's no indictment, just curiosity and compassion, and it's all Sam can do not to spill everything to her. "Rodney believes he discovered the activation sequence on the device."
"Thank you. I'll head down there in a minute." Sam knows her smile is brittle, but Teyla simply nods and slips from the room, and Sam sits and waits until her hands stop shaking.