She's tied to a chair, her hands bound so tightly that she's starting to lose feeling in them.
She doesn't know where she is. She's blindfolded and doesn't remember how she got there.
They keep asking her questions. She's refusing to answer. She won't tell them about Atlantis. She knows that she will die before she betrays the city.
The voices are all unfamiliar and are all male.
One hand has been released from the bonds, and someone's roughly grabbed hold of her wrist.
She hears the snap of bone, and screams at the pain in her finger.
"There are still nine more fingers, Dr. Weir. We can continue with this for a while if you don't co-operate."
She still remains quiet; the only sounds she makes is with pain when they continue with their threat.
She believes that she fainted with the pain, and when she awakes, she's lying on hard stone. Her fingers don't hurt anymore.
She can still hear the voices, now talking about a bomb. A bomb on Atlantis? But now there's a new voice. It sounds different, and she realizes with horror that it's a Goa'uld. What do they want with her? The voice also sounds familiar. He is suggesting that they let me go, before the others get too suspicious.
She knows that voice.
It's Steven.Elizabeth awoke, her heart racing. Her hands shook as she reached for her cell, and she shakily dialled the SGC.
In fierce whispers (Yes, she
did know what time it was in Colorado. No, it hadn't just been a bad dream.) she had finally been put through to the officer-in-charge and told her story.
Hanging up, she was left sitting in the dark, sixteen-hundred miles, and a galaxy away from it all.
Quietly she moved, changing into running clothes.
The sun was just starting to rise as she slipped outside, and just began to run. Trying not wonder if Atlantis would see another sunrise.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
