Tarnished Heroes
A Daniel Jackson
Stargate SG-1
Adult FanFiction Series
By
Moon Mistress
a/k/a Lisa Beth Darling

Chapter Forty

How many special people change?
How many lives are living strange?
Where were you while we were getting high?
Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannonball
Where were you while we were getting high?
Someday you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky
Champagne Supernova
Oasis

Andy Hartley was lying on his bed in the Queen Anne B&B with his head resting on a thick bag of ice when Calla just appeared in his room. His very first thought wasn’t ‘how’d she do that?’ but ‘what the hell happened to her hands?’ Yes, the very first thing he noticed was the bandages and wondered at her future ability to paint. He stood the chance of not making as much money as he’d hoped if she couldn’t paint at least a few more paintings. Oh well, never mind, he was still sitting on Tom Dyer’s Estate Treasure Chest. Before he killed him, he’d been able to convince Dyer that he was the one to promote his latest photographs of the lovely Professor Jackson. Like Calla a few days ago, Dyer signed away all of his rights to those photographs effective immediately. His winnings from the contest and all future contracts were going straight into Andrew Hartley’s bank account. Andy intended to see to it that he managed it for all it was worth. Calla would come to him and cry how her photograph was all over the place and he’d sympathize and pad his wallet with a smile.

“Dahling, I’ve been so worried about you.” Andy said and sat up. A bright bolt of lightning went through the back of his head. “Where did you get off to so quickly? And where did you come from?” Wrestling his way off the bed he took her in his arms and sat her down on the bed. She was shaking and she cringed away from his touch. “What happened to your hands, love?”

“Got hurt,” she muttered.

“I see that.” Andy said with a puzzled voice. “Nicholas, he did it, didn’t he?” It was clear she couldn’t bring herself to say it but she did nod in response. “You should have him arrested.”

“What? No.” The thought never entered her head.

“Yes,” Andy said sternly, “you can’t let him get away with that, love, not even if he is your son.” Certainly not, the little bugger may have cost him a small fortune and he should be severely punished for that if nothing else. “Come on, dahling, let me help you here, you’re a bloody mess.” He said with a warm smile. Her lips were dry and cracked a sure sigh of dehydration and that was small wonder, Calla looked like she’d been crying for days on end. “Let’s get this ratty shirt off and get you into a warm tub, hey? Then we’ll have a little something to eat.” One big glass of OJ and a grilled cheese sandwich coming up. The food of the truly drug hardened but it always did the trick. Andy picked up the hem of the light sweater and began to raise it but Calla didn’t put her arms up instead she bent over and he slid off her that way. After he dropped it to the floor, he saw why. “Dear God!” Andy cried. “What in bloody blue blazes happened to you?!” From her neck to her shoulder blades, he couldn’t see any white skin at all it was purple and black. There were more fresh bruises and cuts scattered over her back but there were old ones too. Big nasty ugly ones that hadn’t been there recently although they did appear on calliendanny.com and in the photographs Dyer too, although again, he had to admit, he thought it was make-up job done for effect…until now. Hartley thought Daniel must have paid for plastic surgery for her at some point but now they were back with a vengeance.

Calla’s upper arms and waist were littered with what could only be handprints and by the looks of them; they were some damn big hands. Andy dropped to his knees in front of her to look her in the eye but it seemed Calla wasn’t home right now. All the lights were out. “It’s all right, dahling.” He soothed and brushed the hair away from her face; he flicked it over her shoulder and was instantly sorry, as it had been covering the bruising on her breast. This was certainly not the condition he’d left her in. Perhaps the damage to her hands really was the least of her problems. Andy felt sick. “Look at me, love.” He waited for her eyes to focus on him. “Did Daniel do this?” She shook her head. No, not Daniel. “Who did it, love? You can tell me.”

“Ares,” she mumbled.

At first Andy thought he hadn’t heard her right. “Ares? As in the Greek God of War?”

“Exactly,” she said in the same mumbled whisper.

All right so the names were the same. “Who is he, love? Who is this Ares to you?” Looking at her now he’d have little problem believing the old god had done such a thing. The bruises were so deep and so large they had to have been made by a man of incredible size and weight.

“My Father.” Calla held her arm out to him. “Please, it hurts so much.”

“I’m sure it does.” Andy took in the little band-aid in the fold of her elbow and peeled it away to reveal the small pinprick where the doctor she’d seen had given her a shot or drew blood or both. She was in a terrible state and coke didn’t look like the answer here. “I’ll fix you right up, love. Stay right there.” His head still pounding Andy stood up and got his Happy Kit from the dresser drawer an in no time he drew her up mild a boot. “Just a little sting,” he whispered as the needle slid in under her skin and into the vein below, he depressed the plunger and released the poison into her. “We’ll have a nice warm bath in just a little bit, all right, love? Then we’ll get something to eat.”

A bath. That would be good. A very long very hot bath. Maybe then she could get Ares’ stink off her if not the feel of his hands. “He doesn’t love me anymore,” she said in a low mournful whisper and lay down on the bed. She waited to be sick but she hadn’t eaten in so long that her stomach didn’t bother making the attempt. Maybe, a little later, after her nap and a bath, a meal would also be a good idea. “I don’t think he ever did.”

Unsure who the ‘he’ in her statement referred to whether it was Daniel or Ares or both, Andy pulled the blanket over her. “I love you. I’ll take care of you.” Calla fell asleep and he stayed by her side awake and thinking. The more he thought the more he came back to the very real possibility that Ares, as in ARES GOD of WAR actually was this woman’s Father. Andy had been going over the day’s events in his head since he got back to the B&B. When the son protested that Daniel wasn’t his father but the twin, David, was, Calla yelled at him and called him by his full name; Nicholas Ares Jackson. From the research he’d done, he’d ascertained that Nicholas was named for Daniel’s grandfather, perhaps he was also named for another ancestor as well, a closer one, his own grandfather.

Holding her frail sleeping body with one arm and the other behind his head keeping the sore spot from resting on anything he thought harder about the day and the situation. Nicholas hadn’t touched him, Andy was sure of that. Still he flew across the front lawn and had the lump on his noggin to prove it. He felt like he’d been hit in the chest by a bolt of lightning. Calla had simply vanished. One second she was there and the next she wasn’t. Not to mention her appearing act of a little while ago. He’d been sitting alone in here room and poof…there she was. Her talent, her passion, her incredible capacity to indulge in wanton amounts of drugs and, let’s not forget, her youth….and Daniel’s all led him to believe that it was, at least, possible. What had he found in Calla Jackson? Obviously, it was something more than a pretty new toy and a meal ticket.

Speaking of meal tickets, he had to get into the house and get her paintings out. From the looks of things, Daniel wasn’t going to be very happy about that. Tough shit. If the man couldn’t hold onto his wife it wasn’t Andy’s fault. Still the scene was bound to be ugly; maybe he’d take a few hired guns with him and Calla’s contract to prove that he was the true owner of the paintings. Yes, that sounded like a plan to him.

The sun descended behind the mountains and twilight was upon them when she finally stirred in his arms. Andy thought she might sleep all night and he wouldn’t have a problem with it if she did, certainly, she was entitled to crash after what she’d been through. In the dim light of the bedroom in the quaint B&B she looked up at him with the eyes of a frightened child. “Hi,” he said softly. “Any better?” She didn’t answer. “How about that bath, love?” Again she didn’t answer she just stared at him. “I’m going to go into the bathroom and draw the water,” he said slowly, “you come in when you’re ready, all right? After that we’ll go and we’ll find something very warm and yummy to eat.” Andy kissed her forehead, climbed out of the bed and soon she heard water running in the bathtub.

“What am I doing here?” She asked herself and looked around the very pretty room. “I should go home.” Then she reminded herself she didn’t have a home anymore, a husband, or a family. It was all gone. In the blink of an eye, she’d lost everything and everyone she’d ever loved. Calla never thought that this could happen not after all they’d been all through, all they’d shared and all the years they’d been together, she never envisioned being alone like this again. It was a tough pill to swallow.

At least she had Andy, so then she wasn’t completely alone. Yes, Andy and his warm smile, that soft British accent and lovely blond hair. Let’s not forget his Happy Kit and the plain fact that he was here made her feel, well, not ‘better’ but a little less lonely. Calla thought that she should count herself lucky that Fate had seen fit to leave her with this much. Dragging herself from the bed, she made her way to the bathroom where Andy was dumping salts into the steaming water.

“There you are, love.” He said with a soft smile. “Come on, it’s almost ready.”

Calla looked down at her hands and the rivet and zipper on her jeans. She couldn’t get them off. “Will you help me?”

“Of course I will.” Andy stood up from where he had been kneeling by the tub; he looked down at her with kind eyes while undoing the Levis at her waist and sliding them to the floor. Just to help her out, you understand. It seemed Calla hadn’t bothered with anything like a bra and panties when she dressed herself earlier. More handprint bruises peppered with a healthy dose of deep thumbprints, they covered her thighs and if she turned around, he was certain they covered her firm butt as well.

What did they say? Incest is best, keep it in the family.

There was something else here. More of those old scars that had not been on her the last time he’d seen her this way. They ran between her thighs and he knew, just knew, they ran over that sweet spot between them as well. From the looks of her, at some point in the distant past, someone had gone to town on her with the blade of a knife.

“Put your arm around me,” he instructed as he led her toward the hot water. “That’s right, love. Hold on to me and we’ll get you into the tub.” Unfortunately, there was no such thing as Room Service in the B&B so after she was bathed and dried and he found something suitable to dress her in Andy would take her out for a quiet dinner. Then again, maybe they’d order some take-out from one of the local restaurants. If so much as one reporter had been in the bushes across the street today then the town was swarming with them by now and eventually he’d get her in front of those cameras and sit idly by while she gave interviews and smiled but not tonight. Tonight she needed some down time. To him it seemed she’d earned it.

Calla dipped her toes into the tub while she held onto him for support and then pulled them out. “Cold,” she complained quietly.

“Cold?” Andy looked around at the steam in the bathroom and, still holding on to her waist he bent and put his own hand in the very warm water. “No, dahling, it’s all right, go on get in.” Keeping her steady, she tried again and got both feet into the tub before turning around to look at him as though she were asking what to do next. “Go on sit down, I’ll wash your hair. Careful of the bandages now, love, we don’t want to get them wet.”

Holding her bandaged hands up in the air Calla sat down in the warm water and still found it cold. It wasn’t hot enough to get Ares off her, it probably never would be. In Another Place and Another Time maybe it wouldn’t be so bad but this was the Here and the Now and it was just awful. There was no going back from here. Why did Daniel have to wake up and see them together? If he’d just slept a while longer he’d never know and they’d still be together, home cuddled up warm in their bed and making love. That was all gone now and it was never coming back.

Andy poured water over her head while she held her hands away from it and then he washed her long hair, conditioned it and rinsed it clean. “Thank you,” Calla whispered as she looked over at him. He was leaning into the tub with a cup in his hand, flowing blonde hair behind his shoulders and the sleeves of the Armani silk shirt rolled up past his elbows. What would she do if he weren’t here? She didn’t know.

“What for, love?” Andy asked with an easy smile as he picked up the soap and wash cloth.

“Taking care of me.” She mumbled and looked down at her scared body. “Do you think I’m ugly?”

“No,” Andy very gently ran the soapy cloth along her tender shoulders. “I think you’re beautiful, love.”

“Daniel doesn’t.”

“That’s his loss.” Andy told her as he washed her. There was still business to tend to and he had to do a bit of feeling out. “Is Daniel home?” He asked and ran the soft cloth under her arms and down her flanks.

“Probably. I don’t know.” That was true, she didn’t know and she should know especially now that he was Immortal she should know exactly where he was but she couldn’t feel anything and didn’t want to. “Why?” The cloth was washing her right side now and slowly making its way over her small breasts.

“Now, I don’t want you to worry, love,” he said easily and continued his enjoyable chore of cleansing her, “I think it’s important that we get your paintings out of the house as quickly as possible.”

“Why?” She looked over at him.

“I know this isn’t the time for this nonsense,” Andy told her with a smile and soft toss of his head, “but…well…dahling, those paintings are worth a lot of money and if things are this bad between the two of you,” he shook his head, “well, men can do anything when they’re enraged.”

“You think Daniel would destroy my paintings?” It was Callas’ turn to shake her head. “No.”

“Just to be safe, love, we really should go over and get them quickly. Especially the one of the photo shoot.” Andy encouraged and then stood up. “There all clean.” He pronounced and unplugged the tub. Holding out his hands and a soft white towel, he helped Calla out of the tub. “I’ll tell you what, we’ll get something to eat and then I’ll go get the paintings, all right?”

By now, Calla had little doubt that Daniel had been filled in on several things regarding Andrew Hartley and probably by Nicholas. Some of them were undoubtedly true and others were not. Either way she couldn’t let him go to the house alone. Daniel would not be pleased to find Andy at the front door. “I’ll get them tomorrow while he’s at work.” Calla wasn’t sure that Daniel would actually go to work tomorrow but knowing him, he’d want to just dive into his work to keep his mind off things. Her chances were pretty good that she could slip into the house undetected tomorrow, well at least in as far as her hazed mind thought. The idea that Nicholas and Annie wouldn’t go to school or that Colleen would come home from the infirmary and Daniel wouldn’t go to work never entered her head.

“Why don’t we talk about it some more after we’ve had something to eat?” Andy suggested as he dried her and then wrapped her in his robe and led her back to the bedroom.

“I can’t go out.” She mumbled.

“No worries, love.” Andy winked at her while he picked up some papers on the dresser. “This place provides menus for all sorts of take-out. What do you want? Name it and I’ll get it for you, my dear.” Plopping down on the bed, he patted the space next to him for her to come and sit with him and she did. To him she looked cold, Andy pulled back the covers and Calla slid into the bed. “There, that’s better, isn’t it? What shall we get?” He held the menus out for her hoping she’d choose something warm and light. It was obvious she hadn’t eaten in a while and overdoing it at this point wouldn’t do her empty stomach any good as she was just as likely to heave it out as she was to keep it down.

Calla rested her wet head on his shoulder and pretended to look at the menus in his hand before she held out her arm to him. “More?”

“Not now, after we eat maybe.”

“Please?”

“Later.” Andy told her sternly. Calla drew her arm away from his line of sight and he looked over at her. She looked like such a little rag-a-muffin, straight out of Oliver Twist. “I promise, all right, love, later.” In a few moments, he talked her into an order of lo mien from the local Chinese restaurant. The noodles would be good in her stomach and the carbs would break down slowly. It was delivered quickly and was very tasty, she ate little at first and he thought she’d throw up for sure. She stopped after a few bites and just sat there sipping on the Coca-Cola—he tried to get her drink any type of juice but she wouldn’t hear of it—after a while her stomach got the best of her and she began to nibble at the lo mien again. It would still be a few hours before he let her have that next boot, Andy wanted to make sure that she actually digested as much of the food as possible. She wasn’t any good to him if she started passing out all over the place.

After dinner Andy wanted very much to make advances toward her but Calla was just exhausted. She probably wouldn’t put up any fight and if she should give out a signal or two that she was ready he’d go for it. Other than that, he’d win more points if he just kept to the Charming Concerned Englishman Routine for the remainder of the night. Yes what she needed now more than a Lover was a Friend and he intended to see that he filled the bill.

Calla was very quiet all night long, after they ate, they lay down on the bed and watched television for a while. It seemed she didn’t have anything to say. Andy, on the other hand, was full of questions. The hour was growing later. “You ready, love?” Andy asked from nowhere as they cuddled on the bed, her under the covers and him on top of them.

Using her forearms, she pushed her body up and away from where she’d been lounging against his chest listening to his heartbeat. It wasn’t comforting like Daniel’s. Looking down at her hands and the long sleeves on the robe, she seemed confused as to how go around getting them up as she turned her left arm over and held it out to him. “Yes, please.”

“All right,” Andy got off the bed, opened his Happy Kit and cooked up a good dose of China White for her. Slipping the rubber tubing around her arm she didn’t flinch at the pinch of the needle this time, no, to Andy it seemed she welcomed it. Very good.

Swiftly becoming a hard-core heroin addict Callas’ stomach gave no protest this time as it was used to the intrusion and no longer railed against it. She didn’t throw up and all that she ate stayed with her. The sleep she fell into was light and short. When she woke up Andy was ready for her.

“You know, love, I’ve been thinking,” he began softly as he traced the outline of her strung out face. “After we get your paintings, why don’t you come back to New York with me? Hum?”

“Why?”

Seemed the biggest question she could ask tonight was ‘why’. Andy figured that was because she was already so utterly lost that she was searching every which way for any type of direction.

“Well, now, I was thinking you could stay with me.” He invited and gently took one of her wounded hands in his. “You could, you know, rest and convalesce and be far away from all this racket.” His free hand rose in the air and waved around as if to bat away something that wasn’t there. “What do you think? Do you want to come home with me, love?” Yes far away from Daniel and all that was familiar to her to some place where he could control everything. Once he got her home, he’d dress her up, show her off, and market her to the world as the next Great Artiste. Yes, London, Paris, Rome, Munich, Milan, Sydney, he’d take her all over the world and back again. Daniel would never be able to keep up with them. She’d soon forget about him and those brats of hers. She’d shine on the World Stage and put lots of money in his pocket and pleasure in his bed before he was done. All she had to do was say yes to his proposal.

Right now Andy’s invitation sounded like the best thing she’d ever heard. Go away, far away, from Daniel, Ares, and all of this god-forsaken mess. She could get lost in the city, no one would know her or care and she could start her life over. If she did that then she could never come back. No, not ever. Calla smiled a little in her drug-induced haze. “Can’t go back now.” She mumbled without looking up at Andy. No, whatever she did, one thing was for certain in her mind; Daniel would never take her back. There was nothing she could say or do and no amount of atonement which she could pay would take this away and make it all right again.

“What’d you say, dahling?” Andy tilted her face to look at him. “Do you want come?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s settled then, tomorrow we’ll pick up your paintings and head to New York.”

“All right.” Calla agreed and lay her head back down on his shoulder.

Oh God he wanted to fuck her! And it would be soooo easy. Yes, with her looking up at him like that almost begging him for it with her eyes. It was so hard to turn it away. Still it was in his best interest to do so. “You look tired, my love, it’s been a very difficult time.” Andy sympathized and tucked the covers around her. He fluffed the pillows behind her and brought her closer to him. “Why don’t you sleep now? Everything is taken care of, it’s all right. In the morning things will be brighter.”

“Promise?” Calla asked and snuggled up next to the warmth and weight of his body.

“Cross my heart.” Andy kissed the top of her head, flicked off the remote and the light by the bed. Soon they were both sleeping. Andrew Hartley dreamed of riches and pleasures heretofore unknown even to him. Calla didn’t dream. For her there was nothing but an endless cold sea of darkness.

End of Chapter Forty of
Tarnished Heroes
An Adult Stargate FanFiction Novel
By
Moon Mistress
Continue to
Chapter Forty-One