Title: West Wind
Author: Holdouttrout
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Category: Apocafic
Pairing: Not really, no. Possible Sam/Cam if you squint.
Rating: Teen
Summary: He'd found her despite the odds, but it was too late for the people of Earth.
Notes: I have no idea where this came from. Nor do I know why the Goa'uld decided to reappear as villains. Somehow, though, I couldn't see the followers of the Ori in the drug business.

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He found her in a little shit-hole on a backwater planet. She was curled on a pillow, her arm hanging limply over the edge. She was filthy and her hair was matted. She was bone-thin and the dress hung off her frame like rags.

The inhabitants of this place largely ignored him as he picked his way around the lumps of human flesh and around the worst areas of the floor. A few glanced his way as he passed, but when they saw he was no patron and brought nothing of interest--no drugs or money--, they let their eyelids drop again and were still.

When he approached her and his shadow fell over her, she moaned and drew in her arm, which was riddled with needle marks. He cursed softly, understanding now why they hadn't heard from her. No doubt the minor Lord who'd picked her up had kept her on something constantly. Probably the drug the newly made slaves were calling zephyr. He'd heard one of the addicts say it tasted like hope for a few fleeting moments, and then left you behind in utter despair.

Her lips were cracked and parched and he had to lean close to hear her whispered, "No more. No more."

He crouched down, smoothed away her filthy hair. She shied away from his touch.

"Guess they left you behind when they found a new pretty, huh?" He said on a sigh. He reached into his pack, pulled out his canteen and moistened a handkerchief he'd managed to keep somewhat clean over the last few months. He held it up to her lips, and although she turned away from it at first, she soon turned back and sucked at the moisture greedily. He repeated the process several times, and finally her head dropped back and she sighed. He gathered her up in his arms and carried her out the door.

He rented a small, dingy room whose sole claim to decency was a small sink with actual running water. It was most likely clean water, too--the reservoirs that had been in place on most planets were still far enough away from the towns to be left unfouled. Still, he boiled it over a camp stove he carried with him. While the water heated, he took more and washed her, carefully. He cut her hair close to her head, leaving it just long enough to not be considered a buzz cut. He didn't notice any lice, which was unexpected, but good. It meant she probably hadn't been hanging around where he'd found her long.

After the water boiled, he cooled it by running water from the tap--there was no hot water from faucets anymore--around the metal pot he'd used to boil it in. He returned to the bed where she lay and propped her up with one hand, dribbling water into her mouth with the other. Eventually, he slipped and a little bit too much water splashed into her mouth. She sputtered and opened her eyes.

He smiled at her. "Hey, gorgeous. You back among the not-dead yet?" Her head rolled back and forth on his arm.

He'd forgotten how blue her eyes were. As she struggled to put him in focus, he set down the container of water. Finally she drew a breath and said, "Cam?"

He kissed her forehead. "That's me, baby. Sorry it took me so long to find you."

Her head fell backward, and it took her a minute to struggle back up. "...got away."

Cam sat on the bed and shifted so he was resting against the wall and she was resting against him. "Yeah, we got away that time."

He felt her working her throat, practicing the words. "How'd you...know I was alive?" Her voice was raspy, but her words were clear.

"Never doubted it for a second."

"Should have left me."

He tensed his hands around her arms. "First thing O'Neill told me: 'You don't leave them behind. Not one of them.'"

Her chest shook and then she coughed. "He always was...a sap."

Cam lowered his head on Sam's. "Yes, he was."

They lay together for some time in silence. Sam didn't ask about Daniel, Teal'c, or Vala, and Cam thought maybe she'd heard about their last battle already. Sam was so quiet he wondered if she'd gone to sleep, but she shifted just as he thought it.

She said, "How did you find me?"

"Followed the trail of exploding ships."

Her voice, hoarse though it was, sounded satisfied. "Good. Then they were just fucking with my head."

Cam smiled at that. "Couldn't figure out how you were doing it, huh?"

He would swear he heard her blink innocently. "How is a slave supposed to sabotage anything--" she paused as a cough racked her body, "--when they don't leave her alone for a second?"

Cam laughed abruptly at the picture of a Goa'uld tearing out his hosts hair trying to figure out how a drugged, beaten, probably chained Tau'ri woman was making his ships blow up.

He sobered, and asked, "What did they give you?"

Sam exhaled. "Zephyr. But only after the fourth transfer."

That would explain why she'd suddenly gone quiet. There had been no more whispers of a Tau'ri woman drawing the anger of the Goa'uld who'd bought her as a trophy after the first four ships exploded.

"You in withdrawal?"

"Not anymore," she said grimly.

Cam accepted her words with a nod.

After another few minutes, Sam lifted her head and said, "Is there anywhere to go?"

Cam said, "I got a few ideas. There are some rumors here and there about resistance groups. They're probably just as likely to shoot us on sight as take us in, but we might get lucky."

Sam set her mouth in a grim line. "Then let's get going."

Cam smiled to himself over her head and said, "In a while, Sam. We've got plenty of time."


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