Stargate Fic: Drifting Out at Sea (1/2)
Title: Drifting Out at Sea
Author: abyssinia4077
Fandom: Stargate SG-1 / Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Cameron Mitchell, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Jack O'Neill, Teal'c, John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Elizabeth Weir, Major Lorne, Teyla Emmagen, Ronon Dex, etc, etc, etc
Rating/Warning: PG (mostly language). Apocafic. People die (~ 6 billion plus some characters we care about). People are crippled (mentally and/or physically). That said it's not dark.
Disclaimer: Both Stargate shows belong to a whole slew of people who are not me. Just playing in the sand box.
Word Count: 11,774
Author's Note: Thanks to aurora_novarum for being the fastest beta in the west and various people who’ve helped me brainstorm and listened to me whine about this fic.
Written for the 2008 apocalypse_kree in answer to the 2007 prompt "184. Gen OR John/Rodney AND/OR Sam/Jack. Earth has been destroyed/decimated and evacuated. Some (a lot?) of the survivors made it to Atlantis. Who lived and who died? Atlantis 10 years later."
Set AU after SG-1 10x20: Unending and SGA 3x20: First Strike.
Summary: The hardest part about the apocalypse isn't losing Earth. The hardest part is holding everything together afterwards.
October 18, 2007 (3 ASY (Atlantis Standard Years))
Their first warning is when Vala vanishes. One minute Jackson is giving a briefing on his new theories on how to help the galaxy resist the Ori now that Adria has ascended, and the next minute Vala's chair is filled with a flash of white light and then nothing but air.
An hour later there are ten Ori ships closing in on the asteroid belt, Sam is with Siler and Lee fighting a hopeless battle with Merlin's phase-shifting device, and Jackson has disappeared. Cam finds him in an unused storage room near the archaeology labs, flat on his back. "Jackson, what are you doing?" he demands, slamming the door open. "If you haven't noticed, we've got an invasion on our hands. Could use your help."
"I am helping." Cam takes a step back at Jackson's snarl through gritted teeth. "I'm doing what I should have done long ago."
"Jackson?" Cam asks, cautious this time.
"They're not going to do anything," Jackson mutters, still not opening his eyes. "They're just going to sit there and watch while the Ori burn through this galaxy. But I can do something. And I'm not going to sit by anymore."
"Jackson..." He scares Cam when he gets like this, makes him realize just how much control he doesn't have over his own team. "You gonna regret this?"
"Probably. It doesn't matter." Jackson's voice is quieter, his breathing slower.
"Then c'mon out and help us."
"Mitchell? Go away." Cam looks at Jackson's unmoving form, knows there's nothing he can do short of carry him out of the room, and he isn't sure his back is up to that, so after a minute he closes the door and goes back to Reynolds, organizing teams to protect the 'gate as long as possible.
An hour later an SF stops by to tell him about a glow under the door and an empty room and Cam looks at those around him and then finds Teal'c and Carter and nobody has to ask because they all know and if Earth's best chance at the moment is a no-longer-corporeal archaeologist with an overdeveloped martyr complex who's cheated death a few too many times and either doesn't know what he's getting himself into or knows all too well, it's still a better chance than none.
Flying isn't Cam's job anymore so he stands by Landry's side and watches the little dots that are F-302's - he recognizes far too few of the pilot’s names -- and the bigger dots that are Apollo and Daedalus swarm protectively as the Ori ships reach Earth. He isn't surprised when Adria appears.
"Are you ready to bow down before the Ori?" Adria asks, all saccharin sweet.
"What did you do with Vala?" Cam asks in reply, drawing a sidearm he knows will be useless.
"Oh, don't worry. Mother is safe." Adria's smile is the scariest thing Cam's seen in months. "Soon she will understand the power of the Ori."
"We never said they weren't powerful," Landry tells her. "But they aren't gods."
Adria's eyes flash red-gold and Cam leaps forward. It's too little too late and Adria slams him against the wall with a wave of her hand. The last thing he sees before the world goes black is Landry falling to his knees.
Cam wakes slung over Teal'c's shoulder like a sack of potatoes, his whole body one giant bruise. Teal’c stops moving when he pounds his back, sets him down, holding him steady while the room spins. People are running around him, heading to supply rooms or the gateroom, too many conversations to follow. On the other side of Teal'c, Carter's fingers are a blur on the keyboard and Landry is standing over her with an icepack on his head. The dots left on the radar all belong to Ori ships.
"Sir?" Cam asks shakily. "What happened?"
"Damnedest thing," Landry mutters. "I was sure I was done for. Then she just disappeared."
"Virus is ready, sir," Sam says. "Wormhole to Atlantis should close in 5 minutes."
"Let Reynolds know we have maybe one more shot to get through everyone we can," Landry orders. "Mitchell, help me set the self-destruct."
"Sir?"
"Within the next hour this entire planet is going to be crawling with Ori soldiers. We can't let them find Atlantis. Antarctica is already destroyed. Now we need to take care of SGC," Landry explains, stepping up to an empty keyboard. Cam watches his fingers shake as he finds the keys to enter his command code, setting the self destruct to go off at Landry's mark. When he turns around there is a sonic boom and a flash of light from the gateroom and he looks back to see Jackson on the floor, stark naked with every muscle taut and limbs contorted. His eyes stare blindly at the wall, his mouth a gaping rictus. The stream of people heading for the opened 'gate has frozen in shock, milling around and giving Jackson a wide berth.
Cam is down the stairs and nearly through the door, Sam and Teal'c on his heels, when Landry's voice barks through the microphone, ordering people to get moving, damnit. Cam stops a foot from Jackson, who hasn't moved, letting the stream of people flow around the four of them. Sam pushes past and crouches down, uttering a quiet "Daniel?" as she reaches for his wrist.
The second her fingers contact his skin he opens his mouth impossibly wider and screams to wake the dead - no words, no purpose, just a never-ending inhuman cocaphony that doesn't even pause for him to draw breath. Within seconds his body starts bucking - back arching, limbs flailing - and Teal'c drops like a stone to hold Jackson's legs while Cam puts his weight across his shoulders, trying to keep him from hurting himself. It's like trying to keep hold of a wet cat, only his momma's cat never weighed more than he did and never screamed like this.
Sam's hands are everywhere, desperately trying to soothe Jackson by stroking his hair, pleading with him to calm down, telling him he's safe and then Doctor Lam appears with a sedative and within seconds Cam is back on his heels, looking bewilderedly at Sam and Teal'c, who only look old, like they've done this before. Behind them the 'gate shuts down and Cam rises, turning to ask Landry for his next orders when he feels the cold caress of an Asgard transporter.
He nearly falls when his feet materialize on the floor of the Odyssey, Sam and Teal’c and Lam and Jackson in their same positions on the floor next to him. "Is that everyone?" General O'Neill's voice asks and Cam whirls around to find him perched on the edge of the command chair, like he really doesn't want to be sitting right now.
"Sir," Sam steps forward. "General Landry..."
"Is ensuring the self destruct goes off," O'Neill finishes. "After ‘gating through everyone he can. You wipe the computers?"
"Yes, sir. Nothing left about Atlantis. But, sir, shouldn't we fight?" Sam never liked a problem that had no solution.
O'Neill shakes his head. "Daedalus is barely going to make it to Pegasus with a skeleton crew. Odyssey has all she can carry and we can’t lose her," he explains before barking orders to the lieutenant at the helm to engage the cloak and pull back to Earth's moon. Cam finds himself with Teal'c, carrying Jackson's unconscious body and following Doctor Lam to the infirmary.
When he gets back to the bridge he stands next to Sam and watches the Ori ships separate to space themselves evenly over Earth's landmass. When they go in for the kill, weapons firing, clearly no longer caring if there are any survivors to convert, Sam takes his hand and squeezes before looking away. Cam can't not watch as the fires blaze across the planet.
"Marks?" O'Neill's voice is like an undertaker's. "Get us out of here."
August 12, 2008 (4 ASY, 1 AE (After Earth))
The F-302 creaks ominously as Cam banks it, babying the dying engines into a course for one of the city's piers. To the left he can still see the damage the replicators did to the city right before the Earth refugees arrived. "C'mon, baby, c'mon," he mutters, gripping the stick.
"Colonel Mitchell." Teal'c's voice is strained behind him. "To your left."
Cam can just make out the Puddlejumper in the distance, leaving a trail of black smoke as it tries to evade a dart. "Is that.." he starts to ask when McKay's voice comes through the radio, loud and panicked, "Atlantis, we're going down. Anybody?"
"Oh thank god. Teal'c?" Cam asks, already pulling on the stick, coaxing anything he can out of the plane, knowing Teal'c's response before he utters it. Sheppard's team is on that jumper and if McKay is manning the radio, they aren't doing too well. Plus no way Sheppard would fly that badly, even with that much damage. Cam manages to sneak in along the dart's blindspot and use their last ammunition to blow it into the ocean before pulling up. "Teal'c, I'm not sure we're gonna make it," he says, trying to judge how far away the city is and how much fuel reserves the plane still has when it claims to be empty.
"I am confident you can bring us in," Teal'c replies. "The winds appear to be in our favor."
Cam struggles and curses and follows every one of Teal'c's suggestions and manages to glide into a half-crash onto Atlantis's pier, skidding to a screeching halt mere feet away from the still smoking jumper. The second they blow the hatch he leaps out, Teal'c right behind him, and glances at the fried control panel before trying to wedge open the jumper's back door.
The damn gene wouldn't take in either of them, so it's a fight of strength rather than the simple laying down of a palm and they finally open the door to a ship filling with smoke. McKay barrels out, quickly followed by Teyla and Ronon dragging an unconscious Sheppard. Ford is nowhere to be seen. Cam turns to find Doctor Keller with a few orderlies and several gurneys and waves her away. He can walk.
An hour later one of the nurses clears him and he walks into a storm. Sheppard is conscious and sitting up and probably wishing he wasn't because Cam has never seen General O'Neill so angry. He's standing at the foot of Sheppard's bed looking ready to spit nails. "If you ever pull a stunt like that again I will ground your ass so fast..."
Sheppard leans back, crossing his arms like a defiant teenager. "It worked, didn't it?"
"You lost Ford and damn near lost Ronon," O'Neill shouts. "On a risky mission you'd been ordered not to go on." Cam looks over to Ronon, realizing the grey streaks in his hair aren't dust like he thought earlier, and only barely manages to pull his eyes from the bloody handprint on the Satedan's chest.
"Ford knew the risks," Sheppard grumbles. "It was his plan."
"And since when is a drug-addicted adrenaline junkie a master of strategic planning? We don't have the supplies or the manpower for ill-advised suicide missions. Especially ones suggested by drug addicts who suddenly appear after three years AWOL!"
"We needed the intel," Sheppard shoots back. "And I didn't hear you suggesting any better ideas."
"Maybe because I know when something isn't worth it and it's better to cut your losses."
"Is that what happened on Earth?" Cam flinches when Sheppard utters it, seeing instant regret crossing his face. O'Neill freezes a long minute, hands clenched, before turning and stalking out of the infirmary.
"Careful. Playing with fire there," Cam says, stepping forward. "He is right you know. You guys were lucky to make it back at all."
Sheppard shrugs and leans back onto his pillows. "You don't understand what it's like in this galaxy. Sometimes you have to take risks."
Cam stares at him for a minute than shakes his head and turns to leave. This isn't his fight and it's not one he feels like having. Ronon catches his eye on his way out and gives him a brief nod. It might be approval.
Cam's halfway to the far tower before he realizes his feet are taking him there, at which point it isn't worth turning back. He hasn't been by in a few days anyway. Sam's sitting at the desk overlooking the isolation room. "How's our boy doing?" Cam asks, sliding into the chair next to her.
"About the same," Sam sighs, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the desk. The entire surface is covered with blueprints of some internal mystery of Atlantis's power grid. Cam scoots forward to peer through the glass. Daniel’s sitting crosslegged on the floor, bearded and skinny - most days he ignores the food they bring him - but at least he's dressed, which puts today among the better days. He's got a marker in hand and is peering intently at the wall in front of him.
"Today's a writing day then?" Cam asks, leaning back again. "Don't suppose Weir's looked at it yet." The first time Daniel wrote on the walls they'd wheeled Weir (and wasn’t it fun to evacuate Earth for an Atlantis still reeling from her own beating?) in - after Daniel she was the best they had at translating Ancient - but she'd only managed to decipher a handful of words. Whatever dialect Daniel was favoring wasn't one she'd seen before.
"Didn't seem worth it," Sam mutters, stretching in her chair. "Cam? Do you ever wonder...?"
Cam watches her stumble over words then rolls his chair behind hers and reaches out to try to work the knots out of her shoulders. She always tenses up when she leans over this desk too long. Below them, Daniel has stood up to pace back and forth. It takes him fourteen strides to cross the room and each time he passes the outside window he pauses to press his hand against the glass. All they can see through it is ocean.
"Sheppard's team made it back," Cam tells her, not wanting to push.
"I know. Teal'c stopped by," Sam says, letting her head drop down as Cam works in toward her neck. "They got pretty beat up."
"Ford's gone again. Don't think Sheppard believes it'll stick this time either. Ronon lost a few years," Cam says. It's wrong that he's starting to accept that as normal. "But they got the intel. That should help."
Sam nods, leaning back into Cam's touch. He lets his hands still, then wraps one arm loosely around her shoulders. "I'm tired," she says, eyes locked on Daniel's movements below them.
"What do I wonder?" he asks, now that she seems relaxed.
"Huh?"
"You started to ask if I ever wondered...?"
"Oh. Nothing." Sam stands up and reaches out to roll up the blueprints, which is when Daniel suddenly stops pacing and turns to stare right at them. "Cam...is he?" she asks before running out the room for the stairs.
Cam looks one more second before following her. Daniel's mouth is moving. The last year he's barely acknowledged the presence of any of them. Sometimes Teal'c can get him to eat or Sam's voice will make him turn his head or he'll lean in towards O’Neill like the General's a gravity well. But usually he's lost in some world the rest of them can't even touch. They'd pieced something together from his occasional muttering about stopping Adria before the Ancients stopped him and flung him back to his corporeal form.
Now when Cam enters the room Sam stands in front of Daniel with her hands on his shoulders and he has a death grip on her elbows. Daniel’s mouth is moving, uttering one word over and over again so quiet Cam can’t hear. When Cam steps closer, wincing at the claw-like grip Daniel has on Sam’s elbows, he can finally make out the word. “Who?”
November 17, 2009 (5 ASY, 2 AE)
When O’Neill’s hand slams onto the table Lorne jumps and Cam watches Teyla’s lips press together. “We can’t just keep running,” the General snaps.
“If you have a better plan, I’m willing to listen.” Doctor Weir’s voice has enough steel to seem like she’s towering over O’Neill, even though standing he has several feet on her. “But I’m not willing to risk more lives.”
“We’re going to lose everyone if we don’t do something,” O’Neill shouts.
Cam listens to the city creak as Sheppard and McKay try to pull every ounce left in the stardrive engines. If they don’t find a planet soon, it’s not going to matter either way.
“We’ve got something here,” Sam calls from across the command center where she and Zelenka are inches away from the same laptop screen. Cam uses it as an excuse to remove himself from the battle of wills. “Large ocean, breathable atmosphere, no signs of habitation.”
“Can we make it?” Cam asks, leaning in to peer at something dark on the screen. “What’s that?”
“Looks like ruins,” Zelenka mutters, typing furiously on the keyboard. “Possibly Ancient.”
“Do we have enough power to reach it?”
“I think so,” Sam mutters, taking one last look at the screen before standing up. “I should go help Rodney.”
Cam watches the swirl of people around him, momentarily cursing his uselessness. He can’t help Sheppard fly the city and he doesn’t know enough engineering to be anything but in the way with McKay and Carter and he definitely doesn’t feel like getting in the middle of whatever confrontation O’Neill and Weir are working toward. Luckily McKay offers him a distraction. “Um, we have a problem,” the scientist’s voice calls over the radio. “We aren’t going to be able to sustain life support to the city during landing. You need to evacuate everyone to within twenty feet of the central tower.”
Cam takes one look at Teyla and Lorne and they run off, shouting orders to anyone in a uniform they pass along the way. They keep the unused portions of the city closed off - enough kids they don’t want wandering off and getting lost or discovering some Ancient weapon - so it isn’t too long before they’ve got everyone gathered and milling around within the area around the central tower. Cam’s getting things organized on one end, setting some of the older kids to organize a game to keep the younger ones from being scared and setting people he trusts to guard the doors as the city starts to shake and groan around them, when Zelenka’s voice comes through the radio. “Colonel Mitchell, we have one more life sign in base of the far north tower.”
Jackson. Shit. Cameron shoots a look at Teyla and runs out the door and toward the nearest lift. At a full-out sprint, using every transport device that still works, it takes him four minutes to get there. He doesn’t dare ask McKay how much time he has and doesn’t even bother trying the radio Jackson usually forgets to wear. When Cam bursts through the door, sucking air into his lungs, Jackson is hunched over the display that links to the Asgard database they’d managed to move in from the Odyssey. The database itself is buried in the middle of the city, as protected as they can get it, but Jackson prefers to be out here away from everyone.
“Daniel!” Cam calls, more as a way to get his attention before grabbing his arm than actually expecting Jackson to respond to his own damn name. He looks up, eyebrows somewhere between puzzlement and annoyance when Cam grabs his elbow and tugs.
“What’s…Cameron?” Jackson says, then shakes his head. Cam can’t resist cursing under his breath. He does not have time for Jackson to be having one of those days where he’s slow to respond and slower to recognize anything around him, so he just pulls Jackson bodily across the room.
“We have got to get out of here,” Cam mutters, slamming a palm on the door controls, which is when McKay’s voice comes through the radio telling him they’re out of time.
“Cam!” Carter calls through the radio. “Down the corridor two doors to your right - the storage area in the room is airtight. Can you get there?”
“We’ll try,” Cam shouts, dragging Jackson who, miracle upon miracle, comes willingly. The entire city creaks and Cam swears he can hear the damn shield pulling back but he manages to wedge through the door and shove Jackson into the room before sealing the door behind them. They sit on the floor in a tiny closet, listening to the city shudder and groan its way to landing. Jackson stares silently at the wall the entire time.
When the city settles - and Cam regrets missing the splash - and air rushes into the room Cam wedges the door open. Jackson stands and walks through, heading back to the console. “You’re welcome,” Cam calls. Jackson doesn’t react.
Back at the control tower there’s a buzz of excitement. Turns out the ruins do appear to be an Ancient lab and the scientists are thrilled - McKay positively bouncing on his toes, Carter calmly packing gear with a giant grin on her face and Zelenka extending the sensors to take enough readings to convince Weir that it’s safe. Cam looks around at O’Neill’s scowl, the stubborn set of Weir’s eyebrows and the exhausted-looking Sheppard leaning just inside the doorway and makes his decision in an instant. “I’ll escort them down there,” he volunteers, because right now the scientists look like they’ll be a lot more fun to be around. Not that Sam needs a bodyguard or that the others haven’t learned the right way to aim a gun by now.
Four hours later he’s maneuvering down what might have once been a road and can barely resist the impulse to skip, not just because it’s been weeks since he’s had anything but metal city under his feet. “Just like old times, huh?” he says. Because Sam is to his right, scanning their surroundings, and there are five other scientists between them and where Teal’c is covering their six. And maybe Vala is missing and on good days Jackson can almost remember his name and the stars will never be right but this is still at least part of his team exploring a new planet.
“A little bit, yeah,” Sam admits, offering him a smile - much too rare these days.
When they hit the ruins Cam joins Teal’c guarding the perimeter and the scientists scatter with McKay loudly warning them not to touch anything. Cam can hear Carter rolling her eyes.
Several hours later she plops down next to him, grimy and sweaty, and reaches for his canteen. “Find anything cool?” he asks, shading his eyes against the setting sun.
“Maybe. It was definitely a lab and there’s stuff McKay hasn’t seen. But it’s in pretty bad shape. Don’t know if we’ll get anything. We did find a ZPM that might have some power left.” Sam shrugs and leans back against the rocks.
McKay’s shout for Stewart - the best Ancient translator they have after Jackson and Weir and the fact that he’s both sane and mobile making him all the more useful - makes her jump up again, Cam and Teal’c with her. By the time they reach McKay he’s talking a mile a minute and turns on them with bright eyes.
“It was a research post - the last ditch attempt to stop the Wraith and it looks like they almost succeeded before they lost which means there might be something here we can use,” he explains.
“Well that’s good,” Cam says, leaning against a nearby boulder.
“No, that’s not the good news,” McKay announces.
“Then what is?”
“That.” McKay points to a piece of equipment that looks remarkably unbroken. “Makes ZPMs.”
September 3, 2010 (6 ASY, 3 AE)
“And so,” McKay ends his part of the debrief. “We can destroy the Wraith.”
Next to him, Carter levels her head, looking straight at O’Neill. “Assuming we choose to do so.”
“Why wouldn’t we?” Sheppard drawls next to Cam. “Finally take them out with minimal risk? I’m not seeing the problem.”
“It’s genocide,” Cam says quietly, running a finger along the table. “Or, xenocide, I guess.” Three years in this galaxy and he still doesn’t feel like he really has a right to an opinion about the Wraith. He didn’t grow up under them like Teyla and Ronon, wasn’t there when Sheppard woke them up hungry.
“The Wraith have killed humans in this galaxy for generations and will continue to do so,” Teyla points out at the other end of the table. “It is in their nature. They cannot exist and not be a threat.”
“Exactly,” General O’Neill agrees, as though it were a done deal, “why we have to do it.”
“This is why I let Carson try his experiments on modifying Wraith DNA,” Weir explains. “So it wouldn’t come to this.”
“Worked out well for you, did it?” O’Neill asks sarcastically.
“That’s not the point,” Weir sighs, leaning back in her chair. “The point is that doing this makes us no better than them.”
“No.” O’Neill’s voice goes deadly quiet. “It makes us worse.” Several heads raise, turning to look at the General with puzzled faces. “The Wraith need us to survive. They’d never kill off humans entirely, or they’d be dooming themselves. It’s no different than a coyote hunting a rabbit for food. We’re just killing them.”
“By that analogy,” Sheppard counters, “there’s also nothing that says the rabbit can’t fight back. Elizabeth, I don’t think we can afford to not do this.”
Weir pushes her chair back from the table and nods before wheeling out of the room. She pauses in the doorway. “Do it. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
A half hour later Cam leaves the room - it’s all over but for McKay and Carter arguing the best delivery method, and he needs fresh air. He finds Weir out on the balcony.
“You know,” she says, not turning to look at him. “When President Hayes told me about the Stargate program and asked me to command SGC, he told me he wanted my skills at negotiating. That my anti-weapon stance was a strength.” Her laugh is hollow. “Now look at me annihilating an entire sentient species.”
“The way I see it, when it’s kill or be killed, there’s nothing wrong with choosing to be on the side that survives,” Cam answers. “It’s not like we all don’t already have blood on our hands."
"Just once I'd like us to find another way," she says, giving him a small smile.
"So would I." When she doesn't respond he leaves her to make peace with the ocean.
Six weeks later, Cameron's in the cockpit of a Wraith dart, and everything feels wrong. None of the controls work how they should, and everything is designed for a body that isn't human. But McKay wrote an interface and Sheppard drilled them on how to fly it. He's committed to the mission, and he'll get them there and get them home, and if it's some weird mix of trying to fly his momma's washing machine and driving the fastest car in the Indy 500 but really nothing like either, he's got nobody to listen to him complain.
Scattered across the galaxy are three other darts just like his, each with a two-person team (one muscle, one brain) in the matter storage unit, ready to hit four separate hives with the fast-spreading virus all at once in hopes that it will transfer along the mental network faster than it can be detected and stopped. Just as he releases Sam and Teal'c onto the platform, wearing the handy little short-term personal cloaks they're hoping to hell will work, he knows three other darts are doing the same. Sheppard's got Ronon and McKay, Lorne is carrying Reynolds and Zelenka and O'Neill's dart has Stewart and Marks; and if they all make it back there's gonna be one hell of a party on Atlantis tonight.
Cam circles the landing bay, hairs on the back of his neck rising at the never-ending mosquito whine of the engines. Next time he’s gonna insist McKay install a clear cockpit, even though part of him is glad not to see the dark alien mixture of living machine that makes up the inside of a hive. He's only been inside one a bare handful of times and would have been happy if each one had been his last. Hopefully it really will be, this time.
Carter's call for pick up comes just before he's ready to start worrying, and he swoops down, activates the culling beam, and watches the blips of their locators disappear, hoping to god he's got them, before high-tailing it out of there. Eight hours later, he's never been so glad to see Atlantis, and he starts really breathing again when Carter and Teal'c appear on the landing bay in front of him before he leaps out of the dart, never wanting to get inside again.
O'Neill and Lorne are already back. Within minutes, Chuck runs in with reports of Wraith Hives crashing and going dark all over the map. Cam's never seen a virus act so fast before, but then he's never seen one travel on telepathic pathways. The makeshift hanger is filled with a cacophony of celebration and Carter actually laughs when Cam picks her up and spins around. Teyla stands by the doorway, unable to go on the mission for fear the latent Wraith psychic abilities could have endangered her or the mission. She smiles at the celebration, but everybody knows she won't relax until her team gets back.
Ten minutes later Sheppard's dart comes in trailing black smoke and listing to the side. Cam winces as it clangs to a crash landing on the other side of the hanger. He hears the whine of the materialization ray and Sheppard’s shout and looks over to find Teyla go ashen, leaning against the wall in a slow collapse to the floor.
By the time Cam gets there, Sam and Teal'c right behind him, there's a mob of people and Sheppard is shouting and Rodney can't stand up and as the medics roll him away Cam can hear him say something about a Wraith stunner and Ronon sacrificing himself and that's when he realizes there's no Satedan with greying dreadlocks towering over them.
"Doctor Keller said he didn't have much time anyway, with the feeding," he hears Teyla saying to Sheppard. "At least he took the Wraith with him." Cam watches the remnants of their team cling to each other and everyone else flow around them and knows that there's nothing to say that wouldn't feel hollow.
December 15, 2011 (7 ASY, 4 AE)
“Caldwell’s leaving,” Cam says. “He’s taking the Daedalus back home to see if anything’s left.”
Sheppard grunts from where the therapist is trying to encourage him to walk a straight line. “Weir and O’Neill are okay with that?”
Cam shrugs. “We’ve got the Odyssey, and he made a compelling argument - hasn’t been any serious conflict since the Wraith.”
The sound that comes from Sheppard is half-laugh, half-cough as he slumps against the parallel bars. “Right,” he mutters, which is when Cam realizes maybe he isn’t bringing up the best topic. They’d all feared the worst when Reynolds and Lorne came back with a bloody, un-moving Sheppard on a stretcher, and that it was a random conflict between villages didn’t make Sheppard’s injuries any less grave, even if it made everyone breathe a sigh of relief that it wasn’t a sign of danger speeding for Atlantis.
When Sheppard doesn’t move Cam gets up from his seat. “C’mon, one more lap,” he encourages, close to the bars.
Sheppard starts to stand straight, then shakes his head and slumps back, barely catching himself. Cam lets him rest a minute before putting his hand next to Sheppard’s. “You’ve got to want this.” Cam’s been there, so when Sheppard was refusing therapy, refusing hope, it was Cam who talked him out of bed, talked him into trying, one step at a time. “You’re the only person who can make sure you walk again.”
The laugh that comes from Sheppard is hollow and defeated but he straightens up, locks his jaw, and takes two more steps before turning and making it to the other end. Cam helps him maneuver into the wheelchair, silently grateful he’s not sitting in it.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a slave driver?” Sheppard mutters as he levers himself into bed.
“Yeah, well, I’m not gonna let you sit on your ass playing video games while we run around the galaxy risking our hides,” Cam tells him. “See you later?” He leaves at Sheppard’s nod, knows how exhausted he probably is right now.
That night Cam sits down to dinner with Teal’c and General O’Neill across from him and Sam next to him, trying to coax Daniel into remembering to eat something. Team dinners are hollow these days compared to what they once were, but then so’s the team and Cam’ll take whatever he can get.
Ten minutes in, Teal’c puts his fork down on a half-empty plate, looks at them all for a second and announces, “I will be accompanying Colonel Caldwell on his mission.”
Cam’s opening his mouth to protest, somehow convince Teal’c he can’t leave them, but General O’Neill beats him to it. “You know, T, I think we need you here a lot more than Caldwell needs you.”
“Atlantis has been safe for some time,” Teal’c points out. “And I must see how the Jaffa are fairing, lend my brothers help where I can.”
“We’ll miss you,” Sam says into her not-quite potatoes, no longer focusing on Daniel. “But we understand.”
“I do not intend good-bye to be forever,” Teal’c pointed out. “But I cannot abandon my own people.”
Cam nods around the food that’s made a lump in his throat. His team is never going to stop unraveling, and he can’t do anything about it.
The Daedalus leaves three days later. Teal’c hugs them all. Sam doesn’t pretend to hide the tears and Cam doesn’t make Teal’c promise to return, but he does make him promise to try. They get two more days of peace before Cam wakes up in the process of falling out of bed with alarms screaming and the entire city shaking.
He has his feet shoved into boots (haven’t been attacked in a while, still keeps them ready by the side of his bed), tac vest on (over pajamas), sidearm in hand and he’s through his door before he even wakes up. “This is Mitchell,” he says, thumbing his radio after fumbling it onto his ear. “What’s happening?”
“Replicators came out of nowhere,” Lorne’s voice answers him.
“Mitchell, are you near an armory?” O’Neill’s voice cuts through.
Cam quickly reviews his mental map of the city. “Not close sir, but I can get there.” Another blast rips through somewhere, and Cam staggers into a wall as the entire city shakes.
“That was the science labs,” somebody shouts over the radio and before Mitchell can respond or ask O’Neill for orders the entire thing goes dead. He heads for the armory, hoping to at least learn more about the situation when he gets there.
When he runs past the infirmary someone shouts “Mitchell” through the doorway, draws him up hard. Sheppard’s sitting up in bed (as much as he can) and beckoning him over. “Get me to the Control Chair.”
“Sheppard, I don’t have time for this,” Cam starts to protest.
“Look, I can’t fly, and I can’t fight them off, but but if I’m gonna sit on my ass while you run around risking your hides, I’d rather do that where I can make a difference,” Sheppard snaps and Cam knows that hopeless feeling and he’s getting Sheppard into a wheelchair before he even decides to.
They use up what Cam is sure must be their last bit of luck in the clear path to the control room and Cam is getting Sheppard into the Chair when the radio kicks back in and there is screaming and calls for backup in the science labs and Sam is there and McKay is there and Sheppard takes one look at him and says “go.”
Cam’s out the door, full-speed, as he hears the Chair whine into life, halfway to the science labs before he thinks to wonder how many drones they have left. The smell of smoke hits him long before he runs smack into the devastation and the big, giant hole in the wall showing just how far down the ocean is. A figure emerges from the smoke, resolves into Sam (bandana around her mouth) dragging an unconscious McKay
She points forward and, as the city shakes again, he covers his mouth and walks into hell, helping direct the stream of scientists Sam has lead out of chaos. By the time they’re out, everything’s gone quiet. O’Neill’s voice comes through the radio giving the all clear. For now.
Cam collapses on the floor next to Sam, leaning slightly into her shoulder. “I’m getting too old for this,” he mutters, letting his head fall against the wall and closing his eyes.
Her laugh quickly degenerates into a coughing fit, but it’s worth it. Been a long time since he heard it.
Part Two
Author: abyssinia4077
Fandom: Stargate SG-1 / Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Cameron Mitchell, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Jack O'Neill, Teal'c, John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Elizabeth Weir, Major Lorne, Teyla Emmagen, Ronon Dex, etc, etc, etc
Rating/Warning: PG (mostly language). Apocafic. People die (~ 6 billion plus some characters we care about). People are crippled (mentally and/or physically). That said it's not dark.
Disclaimer: Both Stargate shows belong to a whole slew of people who are not me. Just playing in the sand box.
Word Count: 11,774
Author's Note: Thanks to aurora_novarum for being the fastest beta in the west and various people who’ve helped me brainstorm and listened to me whine about this fic.
Written for the 2008 apocalypse_kree in answer to the 2007 prompt "184. Gen OR John/Rodney AND/OR Sam/Jack. Earth has been destroyed/decimated and evacuated. Some (a lot?) of the survivors made it to Atlantis. Who lived and who died? Atlantis 10 years later."
Set AU after SG-1 10x20: Unending and SGA 3x20: First Strike.
Summary: The hardest part about the apocalypse isn't losing Earth. The hardest part is holding everything together afterwards.
October 18, 2007 (3 ASY (Atlantis Standard Years))
Their first warning is when Vala vanishes. One minute Jackson is giving a briefing on his new theories on how to help the galaxy resist the Ori now that Adria has ascended, and the next minute Vala's chair is filled with a flash of white light and then nothing but air.
An hour later there are ten Ori ships closing in on the asteroid belt, Sam is with Siler and Lee fighting a hopeless battle with Merlin's phase-shifting device, and Jackson has disappeared. Cam finds him in an unused storage room near the archaeology labs, flat on his back. "Jackson, what are you doing?" he demands, slamming the door open. "If you haven't noticed, we've got an invasion on our hands. Could use your help."
"I am helping." Cam takes a step back at Jackson's snarl through gritted teeth. "I'm doing what I should have done long ago."
"Jackson?" Cam asks, cautious this time.
"They're not going to do anything," Jackson mutters, still not opening his eyes. "They're just going to sit there and watch while the Ori burn through this galaxy. But I can do something. And I'm not going to sit by anymore."
"Jackson..." He scares Cam when he gets like this, makes him realize just how much control he doesn't have over his own team. "You gonna regret this?"
"Probably. It doesn't matter." Jackson's voice is quieter, his breathing slower.
"Then c'mon out and help us."
"Mitchell? Go away." Cam looks at Jackson's unmoving form, knows there's nothing he can do short of carry him out of the room, and he isn't sure his back is up to that, so after a minute he closes the door and goes back to Reynolds, organizing teams to protect the 'gate as long as possible.
An hour later an SF stops by to tell him about a glow under the door and an empty room and Cam looks at those around him and then finds Teal'c and Carter and nobody has to ask because they all know and if Earth's best chance at the moment is a no-longer-corporeal archaeologist with an overdeveloped martyr complex who's cheated death a few too many times and either doesn't know what he's getting himself into or knows all too well, it's still a better chance than none.
Flying isn't Cam's job anymore so he stands by Landry's side and watches the little dots that are F-302's - he recognizes far too few of the pilot’s names -- and the bigger dots that are Apollo and Daedalus swarm protectively as the Ori ships reach Earth. He isn't surprised when Adria appears.
"Are you ready to bow down before the Ori?" Adria asks, all saccharin sweet.
"What did you do with Vala?" Cam asks in reply, drawing a sidearm he knows will be useless.
"Oh, don't worry. Mother is safe." Adria's smile is the scariest thing Cam's seen in months. "Soon she will understand the power of the Ori."
"We never said they weren't powerful," Landry tells her. "But they aren't gods."
Adria's eyes flash red-gold and Cam leaps forward. It's too little too late and Adria slams him against the wall with a wave of her hand. The last thing he sees before the world goes black is Landry falling to his knees.
Cam wakes slung over Teal'c's shoulder like a sack of potatoes, his whole body one giant bruise. Teal’c stops moving when he pounds his back, sets him down, holding him steady while the room spins. People are running around him, heading to supply rooms or the gateroom, too many conversations to follow. On the other side of Teal'c, Carter's fingers are a blur on the keyboard and Landry is standing over her with an icepack on his head. The dots left on the radar all belong to Ori ships.
"Sir?" Cam asks shakily. "What happened?"
"Damnedest thing," Landry mutters. "I was sure I was done for. Then she just disappeared."
"Virus is ready, sir," Sam says. "Wormhole to Atlantis should close in 5 minutes."
"Let Reynolds know we have maybe one more shot to get through everyone we can," Landry orders. "Mitchell, help me set the self-destruct."
"Sir?"
"Within the next hour this entire planet is going to be crawling with Ori soldiers. We can't let them find Atlantis. Antarctica is already destroyed. Now we need to take care of SGC," Landry explains, stepping up to an empty keyboard. Cam watches his fingers shake as he finds the keys to enter his command code, setting the self destruct to go off at Landry's mark. When he turns around there is a sonic boom and a flash of light from the gateroom and he looks back to see Jackson on the floor, stark naked with every muscle taut and limbs contorted. His eyes stare blindly at the wall, his mouth a gaping rictus. The stream of people heading for the opened 'gate has frozen in shock, milling around and giving Jackson a wide berth.
Cam is down the stairs and nearly through the door, Sam and Teal'c on his heels, when Landry's voice barks through the microphone, ordering people to get moving, damnit. Cam stops a foot from Jackson, who hasn't moved, letting the stream of people flow around the four of them. Sam pushes past and crouches down, uttering a quiet "Daniel?" as she reaches for his wrist.
The second her fingers contact his skin he opens his mouth impossibly wider and screams to wake the dead - no words, no purpose, just a never-ending inhuman cocaphony that doesn't even pause for him to draw breath. Within seconds his body starts bucking - back arching, limbs flailing - and Teal'c drops like a stone to hold Jackson's legs while Cam puts his weight across his shoulders, trying to keep him from hurting himself. It's like trying to keep hold of a wet cat, only his momma's cat never weighed more than he did and never screamed like this.
Sam's hands are everywhere, desperately trying to soothe Jackson by stroking his hair, pleading with him to calm down, telling him he's safe and then Doctor Lam appears with a sedative and within seconds Cam is back on his heels, looking bewilderedly at Sam and Teal'c, who only look old, like they've done this before. Behind them the 'gate shuts down and Cam rises, turning to ask Landry for his next orders when he feels the cold caress of an Asgard transporter.
He nearly falls when his feet materialize on the floor of the Odyssey, Sam and Teal’c and Lam and Jackson in their same positions on the floor next to him. "Is that everyone?" General O'Neill's voice asks and Cam whirls around to find him perched on the edge of the command chair, like he really doesn't want to be sitting right now.
"Sir," Sam steps forward. "General Landry..."
"Is ensuring the self destruct goes off," O'Neill finishes. "After ‘gating through everyone he can. You wipe the computers?"
"Yes, sir. Nothing left about Atlantis. But, sir, shouldn't we fight?" Sam never liked a problem that had no solution.
O'Neill shakes his head. "Daedalus is barely going to make it to Pegasus with a skeleton crew. Odyssey has all she can carry and we can’t lose her," he explains before barking orders to the lieutenant at the helm to engage the cloak and pull back to Earth's moon. Cam finds himself with Teal'c, carrying Jackson's unconscious body and following Doctor Lam to the infirmary.
When he gets back to the bridge he stands next to Sam and watches the Ori ships separate to space themselves evenly over Earth's landmass. When they go in for the kill, weapons firing, clearly no longer caring if there are any survivors to convert, Sam takes his hand and squeezes before looking away. Cam can't not watch as the fires blaze across the planet.
"Marks?" O'Neill's voice is like an undertaker's. "Get us out of here."
August 12, 2008 (4 ASY, 1 AE (After Earth))
The F-302 creaks ominously as Cam banks it, babying the dying engines into a course for one of the city's piers. To the left he can still see the damage the replicators did to the city right before the Earth refugees arrived. "C'mon, baby, c'mon," he mutters, gripping the stick.
"Colonel Mitchell." Teal'c's voice is strained behind him. "To your left."
Cam can just make out the Puddlejumper in the distance, leaving a trail of black smoke as it tries to evade a dart. "Is that.." he starts to ask when McKay's voice comes through the radio, loud and panicked, "Atlantis, we're going down. Anybody?"
"Oh thank god. Teal'c?" Cam asks, already pulling on the stick, coaxing anything he can out of the plane, knowing Teal'c's response before he utters it. Sheppard's team is on that jumper and if McKay is manning the radio, they aren't doing too well. Plus no way Sheppard would fly that badly, even with that much damage. Cam manages to sneak in along the dart's blindspot and use their last ammunition to blow it into the ocean before pulling up. "Teal'c, I'm not sure we're gonna make it," he says, trying to judge how far away the city is and how much fuel reserves the plane still has when it claims to be empty.
"I am confident you can bring us in," Teal'c replies. "The winds appear to be in our favor."
Cam struggles and curses and follows every one of Teal'c's suggestions and manages to glide into a half-crash onto Atlantis's pier, skidding to a screeching halt mere feet away from the still smoking jumper. The second they blow the hatch he leaps out, Teal'c right behind him, and glances at the fried control panel before trying to wedge open the jumper's back door.
The damn gene wouldn't take in either of them, so it's a fight of strength rather than the simple laying down of a palm and they finally open the door to a ship filling with smoke. McKay barrels out, quickly followed by Teyla and Ronon dragging an unconscious Sheppard. Ford is nowhere to be seen. Cam turns to find Doctor Keller with a few orderlies and several gurneys and waves her away. He can walk.
An hour later one of the nurses clears him and he walks into a storm. Sheppard is conscious and sitting up and probably wishing he wasn't because Cam has never seen General O'Neill so angry. He's standing at the foot of Sheppard's bed looking ready to spit nails. "If you ever pull a stunt like that again I will ground your ass so fast..."
Sheppard leans back, crossing his arms like a defiant teenager. "It worked, didn't it?"
"You lost Ford and damn near lost Ronon," O'Neill shouts. "On a risky mission you'd been ordered not to go on." Cam looks over to Ronon, realizing the grey streaks in his hair aren't dust like he thought earlier, and only barely manages to pull his eyes from the bloody handprint on the Satedan's chest.
"Ford knew the risks," Sheppard grumbles. "It was his plan."
"And since when is a drug-addicted adrenaline junkie a master of strategic planning? We don't have the supplies or the manpower for ill-advised suicide missions. Especially ones suggested by drug addicts who suddenly appear after three years AWOL!"
"We needed the intel," Sheppard shoots back. "And I didn't hear you suggesting any better ideas."
"Maybe because I know when something isn't worth it and it's better to cut your losses."
"Is that what happened on Earth?" Cam flinches when Sheppard utters it, seeing instant regret crossing his face. O'Neill freezes a long minute, hands clenched, before turning and stalking out of the infirmary.
"Careful. Playing with fire there," Cam says, stepping forward. "He is right you know. You guys were lucky to make it back at all."
Sheppard shrugs and leans back onto his pillows. "You don't understand what it's like in this galaxy. Sometimes you have to take risks."
Cam stares at him for a minute than shakes his head and turns to leave. This isn't his fight and it's not one he feels like having. Ronon catches his eye on his way out and gives him a brief nod. It might be approval.
Cam's halfway to the far tower before he realizes his feet are taking him there, at which point it isn't worth turning back. He hasn't been by in a few days anyway. Sam's sitting at the desk overlooking the isolation room. "How's our boy doing?" Cam asks, sliding into the chair next to her.
"About the same," Sam sighs, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the desk. The entire surface is covered with blueprints of some internal mystery of Atlantis's power grid. Cam scoots forward to peer through the glass. Daniel’s sitting crosslegged on the floor, bearded and skinny - most days he ignores the food they bring him - but at least he's dressed, which puts today among the better days. He's got a marker in hand and is peering intently at the wall in front of him.
"Today's a writing day then?" Cam asks, leaning back again. "Don't suppose Weir's looked at it yet." The first time Daniel wrote on the walls they'd wheeled Weir (and wasn’t it fun to evacuate Earth for an Atlantis still reeling from her own beating?) in - after Daniel she was the best they had at translating Ancient - but she'd only managed to decipher a handful of words. Whatever dialect Daniel was favoring wasn't one she'd seen before.
"Didn't seem worth it," Sam mutters, stretching in her chair. "Cam? Do you ever wonder...?"
Cam watches her stumble over words then rolls his chair behind hers and reaches out to try to work the knots out of her shoulders. She always tenses up when she leans over this desk too long. Below them, Daniel has stood up to pace back and forth. It takes him fourteen strides to cross the room and each time he passes the outside window he pauses to press his hand against the glass. All they can see through it is ocean.
"Sheppard's team made it back," Cam tells her, not wanting to push.
"I know. Teal'c stopped by," Sam says, letting her head drop down as Cam works in toward her neck. "They got pretty beat up."
"Ford's gone again. Don't think Sheppard believes it'll stick this time either. Ronon lost a few years," Cam says. It's wrong that he's starting to accept that as normal. "But they got the intel. That should help."
Sam nods, leaning back into Cam's touch. He lets his hands still, then wraps one arm loosely around her shoulders. "I'm tired," she says, eyes locked on Daniel's movements below them.
"What do I wonder?" he asks, now that she seems relaxed.
"Huh?"
"You started to ask if I ever wondered...?"
"Oh. Nothing." Sam stands up and reaches out to roll up the blueprints, which is when Daniel suddenly stops pacing and turns to stare right at them. "Cam...is he?" she asks before running out the room for the stairs.
Cam looks one more second before following her. Daniel's mouth is moving. The last year he's barely acknowledged the presence of any of them. Sometimes Teal'c can get him to eat or Sam's voice will make him turn his head or he'll lean in towards O’Neill like the General's a gravity well. But usually he's lost in some world the rest of them can't even touch. They'd pieced something together from his occasional muttering about stopping Adria before the Ancients stopped him and flung him back to his corporeal form.
Now when Cam enters the room Sam stands in front of Daniel with her hands on his shoulders and he has a death grip on her elbows. Daniel’s mouth is moving, uttering one word over and over again so quiet Cam can’t hear. When Cam steps closer, wincing at the claw-like grip Daniel has on Sam’s elbows, he can finally make out the word. “Who?”
November 17, 2009 (5 ASY, 2 AE)
When O’Neill’s hand slams onto the table Lorne jumps and Cam watches Teyla’s lips press together. “We can’t just keep running,” the General snaps.
“If you have a better plan, I’m willing to listen.” Doctor Weir’s voice has enough steel to seem like she’s towering over O’Neill, even though standing he has several feet on her. “But I’m not willing to risk more lives.”
“We’re going to lose everyone if we don’t do something,” O’Neill shouts.
Cam listens to the city creak as Sheppard and McKay try to pull every ounce left in the stardrive engines. If they don’t find a planet soon, it’s not going to matter either way.
“We’ve got something here,” Sam calls from across the command center where she and Zelenka are inches away from the same laptop screen. Cam uses it as an excuse to remove himself from the battle of wills. “Large ocean, breathable atmosphere, no signs of habitation.”
“Can we make it?” Cam asks, leaning in to peer at something dark on the screen. “What’s that?”
“Looks like ruins,” Zelenka mutters, typing furiously on the keyboard. “Possibly Ancient.”
“Do we have enough power to reach it?”
“I think so,” Sam mutters, taking one last look at the screen before standing up. “I should go help Rodney.”
Cam watches the swirl of people around him, momentarily cursing his uselessness. He can’t help Sheppard fly the city and he doesn’t know enough engineering to be anything but in the way with McKay and Carter and he definitely doesn’t feel like getting in the middle of whatever confrontation O’Neill and Weir are working toward. Luckily McKay offers him a distraction. “Um, we have a problem,” the scientist’s voice calls over the radio. “We aren’t going to be able to sustain life support to the city during landing. You need to evacuate everyone to within twenty feet of the central tower.”
Cam takes one look at Teyla and Lorne and they run off, shouting orders to anyone in a uniform they pass along the way. They keep the unused portions of the city closed off - enough kids they don’t want wandering off and getting lost or discovering some Ancient weapon - so it isn’t too long before they’ve got everyone gathered and milling around within the area around the central tower. Cam’s getting things organized on one end, setting some of the older kids to organize a game to keep the younger ones from being scared and setting people he trusts to guard the doors as the city starts to shake and groan around them, when Zelenka’s voice comes through the radio. “Colonel Mitchell, we have one more life sign in base of the far north tower.”
Jackson. Shit. Cameron shoots a look at Teyla and runs out the door and toward the nearest lift. At a full-out sprint, using every transport device that still works, it takes him four minutes to get there. He doesn’t dare ask McKay how much time he has and doesn’t even bother trying the radio Jackson usually forgets to wear. When Cam bursts through the door, sucking air into his lungs, Jackson is hunched over the display that links to the Asgard database they’d managed to move in from the Odyssey. The database itself is buried in the middle of the city, as protected as they can get it, but Jackson prefers to be out here away from everyone.
“Daniel!” Cam calls, more as a way to get his attention before grabbing his arm than actually expecting Jackson to respond to his own damn name. He looks up, eyebrows somewhere between puzzlement and annoyance when Cam grabs his elbow and tugs.
“What’s…Cameron?” Jackson says, then shakes his head. Cam can’t resist cursing under his breath. He does not have time for Jackson to be having one of those days where he’s slow to respond and slower to recognize anything around him, so he just pulls Jackson bodily across the room.
“We have got to get out of here,” Cam mutters, slamming a palm on the door controls, which is when McKay’s voice comes through the radio telling him they’re out of time.
“Cam!” Carter calls through the radio. “Down the corridor two doors to your right - the storage area in the room is airtight. Can you get there?”
“We’ll try,” Cam shouts, dragging Jackson who, miracle upon miracle, comes willingly. The entire city creaks and Cam swears he can hear the damn shield pulling back but he manages to wedge through the door and shove Jackson into the room before sealing the door behind them. They sit on the floor in a tiny closet, listening to the city shudder and groan its way to landing. Jackson stares silently at the wall the entire time.
When the city settles - and Cam regrets missing the splash - and air rushes into the room Cam wedges the door open. Jackson stands and walks through, heading back to the console. “You’re welcome,” Cam calls. Jackson doesn’t react.
Back at the control tower there’s a buzz of excitement. Turns out the ruins do appear to be an Ancient lab and the scientists are thrilled - McKay positively bouncing on his toes, Carter calmly packing gear with a giant grin on her face and Zelenka extending the sensors to take enough readings to convince Weir that it’s safe. Cam looks around at O’Neill’s scowl, the stubborn set of Weir’s eyebrows and the exhausted-looking Sheppard leaning just inside the doorway and makes his decision in an instant. “I’ll escort them down there,” he volunteers, because right now the scientists look like they’ll be a lot more fun to be around. Not that Sam needs a bodyguard or that the others haven’t learned the right way to aim a gun by now.
Four hours later he’s maneuvering down what might have once been a road and can barely resist the impulse to skip, not just because it’s been weeks since he’s had anything but metal city under his feet. “Just like old times, huh?” he says. Because Sam is to his right, scanning their surroundings, and there are five other scientists between them and where Teal’c is covering their six. And maybe Vala is missing and on good days Jackson can almost remember his name and the stars will never be right but this is still at least part of his team exploring a new planet.
“A little bit, yeah,” Sam admits, offering him a smile - much too rare these days.
When they hit the ruins Cam joins Teal’c guarding the perimeter and the scientists scatter with McKay loudly warning them not to touch anything. Cam can hear Carter rolling her eyes.
Several hours later she plops down next to him, grimy and sweaty, and reaches for his canteen. “Find anything cool?” he asks, shading his eyes against the setting sun.
“Maybe. It was definitely a lab and there’s stuff McKay hasn’t seen. But it’s in pretty bad shape. Don’t know if we’ll get anything. We did find a ZPM that might have some power left.” Sam shrugs and leans back against the rocks.
McKay’s shout for Stewart - the best Ancient translator they have after Jackson and Weir and the fact that he’s both sane and mobile making him all the more useful - makes her jump up again, Cam and Teal’c with her. By the time they reach McKay he’s talking a mile a minute and turns on them with bright eyes.
“It was a research post - the last ditch attempt to stop the Wraith and it looks like they almost succeeded before they lost which means there might be something here we can use,” he explains.
“Well that’s good,” Cam says, leaning against a nearby boulder.
“No, that’s not the good news,” McKay announces.
“Then what is?”
“That.” McKay points to a piece of equipment that looks remarkably unbroken. “Makes ZPMs.”
September 3, 2010 (6 ASY, 3 AE)
“And so,” McKay ends his part of the debrief. “We can destroy the Wraith.”
Next to him, Carter levels her head, looking straight at O’Neill. “Assuming we choose to do so.”
“Why wouldn’t we?” Sheppard drawls next to Cam. “Finally take them out with minimal risk? I’m not seeing the problem.”
“It’s genocide,” Cam says quietly, running a finger along the table. “Or, xenocide, I guess.” Three years in this galaxy and he still doesn’t feel like he really has a right to an opinion about the Wraith. He didn’t grow up under them like Teyla and Ronon, wasn’t there when Sheppard woke them up hungry.
“The Wraith have killed humans in this galaxy for generations and will continue to do so,” Teyla points out at the other end of the table. “It is in their nature. They cannot exist and not be a threat.”
“Exactly,” General O’Neill agrees, as though it were a done deal, “why we have to do it.”
“This is why I let Carson try his experiments on modifying Wraith DNA,” Weir explains. “So it wouldn’t come to this.”
“Worked out well for you, did it?” O’Neill asks sarcastically.
“That’s not the point,” Weir sighs, leaning back in her chair. “The point is that doing this makes us no better than them.”
“No.” O’Neill’s voice goes deadly quiet. “It makes us worse.” Several heads raise, turning to look at the General with puzzled faces. “The Wraith need us to survive. They’d never kill off humans entirely, or they’d be dooming themselves. It’s no different than a coyote hunting a rabbit for food. We’re just killing them.”
“By that analogy,” Sheppard counters, “there’s also nothing that says the rabbit can’t fight back. Elizabeth, I don’t think we can afford to not do this.”
Weir pushes her chair back from the table and nods before wheeling out of the room. She pauses in the doorway. “Do it. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
A half hour later Cam leaves the room - it’s all over but for McKay and Carter arguing the best delivery method, and he needs fresh air. He finds Weir out on the balcony.
“You know,” she says, not turning to look at him. “When President Hayes told me about the Stargate program and asked me to command SGC, he told me he wanted my skills at negotiating. That my anti-weapon stance was a strength.” Her laugh is hollow. “Now look at me annihilating an entire sentient species.”
“The way I see it, when it’s kill or be killed, there’s nothing wrong with choosing to be on the side that survives,” Cam answers. “It’s not like we all don’t already have blood on our hands."
"Just once I'd like us to find another way," she says, giving him a small smile.
"So would I." When she doesn't respond he leaves her to make peace with the ocean.
Six weeks later, Cameron's in the cockpit of a Wraith dart, and everything feels wrong. None of the controls work how they should, and everything is designed for a body that isn't human. But McKay wrote an interface and Sheppard drilled them on how to fly it. He's committed to the mission, and he'll get them there and get them home, and if it's some weird mix of trying to fly his momma's washing machine and driving the fastest car in the Indy 500 but really nothing like either, he's got nobody to listen to him complain.
Scattered across the galaxy are three other darts just like his, each with a two-person team (one muscle, one brain) in the matter storage unit, ready to hit four separate hives with the fast-spreading virus all at once in hopes that it will transfer along the mental network faster than it can be detected and stopped. Just as he releases Sam and Teal'c onto the platform, wearing the handy little short-term personal cloaks they're hoping to hell will work, he knows three other darts are doing the same. Sheppard's got Ronon and McKay, Lorne is carrying Reynolds and Zelenka and O'Neill's dart has Stewart and Marks; and if they all make it back there's gonna be one hell of a party on Atlantis tonight.
Cam circles the landing bay, hairs on the back of his neck rising at the never-ending mosquito whine of the engines. Next time he’s gonna insist McKay install a clear cockpit, even though part of him is glad not to see the dark alien mixture of living machine that makes up the inside of a hive. He's only been inside one a bare handful of times and would have been happy if each one had been his last. Hopefully it really will be, this time.
Carter's call for pick up comes just before he's ready to start worrying, and he swoops down, activates the culling beam, and watches the blips of their locators disappear, hoping to god he's got them, before high-tailing it out of there. Eight hours later, he's never been so glad to see Atlantis, and he starts really breathing again when Carter and Teal'c appear on the landing bay in front of him before he leaps out of the dart, never wanting to get inside again.
O'Neill and Lorne are already back. Within minutes, Chuck runs in with reports of Wraith Hives crashing and going dark all over the map. Cam's never seen a virus act so fast before, but then he's never seen one travel on telepathic pathways. The makeshift hanger is filled with a cacophony of celebration and Carter actually laughs when Cam picks her up and spins around. Teyla stands by the doorway, unable to go on the mission for fear the latent Wraith psychic abilities could have endangered her or the mission. She smiles at the celebration, but everybody knows she won't relax until her team gets back.
Ten minutes later Sheppard's dart comes in trailing black smoke and listing to the side. Cam winces as it clangs to a crash landing on the other side of the hanger. He hears the whine of the materialization ray and Sheppard’s shout and looks over to find Teyla go ashen, leaning against the wall in a slow collapse to the floor.
By the time Cam gets there, Sam and Teal'c right behind him, there's a mob of people and Sheppard is shouting and Rodney can't stand up and as the medics roll him away Cam can hear him say something about a Wraith stunner and Ronon sacrificing himself and that's when he realizes there's no Satedan with greying dreadlocks towering over them.
"Doctor Keller said he didn't have much time anyway, with the feeding," he hears Teyla saying to Sheppard. "At least he took the Wraith with him." Cam watches the remnants of their team cling to each other and everyone else flow around them and knows that there's nothing to say that wouldn't feel hollow.
December 15, 2011 (7 ASY, 4 AE)
“Caldwell’s leaving,” Cam says. “He’s taking the Daedalus back home to see if anything’s left.”
Sheppard grunts from where the therapist is trying to encourage him to walk a straight line. “Weir and O’Neill are okay with that?”
Cam shrugs. “We’ve got the Odyssey, and he made a compelling argument - hasn’t been any serious conflict since the Wraith.”
The sound that comes from Sheppard is half-laugh, half-cough as he slumps against the parallel bars. “Right,” he mutters, which is when Cam realizes maybe he isn’t bringing up the best topic. They’d all feared the worst when Reynolds and Lorne came back with a bloody, un-moving Sheppard on a stretcher, and that it was a random conflict between villages didn’t make Sheppard’s injuries any less grave, even if it made everyone breathe a sigh of relief that it wasn’t a sign of danger speeding for Atlantis.
When Sheppard doesn’t move Cam gets up from his seat. “C’mon, one more lap,” he encourages, close to the bars.
Sheppard starts to stand straight, then shakes his head and slumps back, barely catching himself. Cam lets him rest a minute before putting his hand next to Sheppard’s. “You’ve got to want this.” Cam’s been there, so when Sheppard was refusing therapy, refusing hope, it was Cam who talked him out of bed, talked him into trying, one step at a time. “You’re the only person who can make sure you walk again.”
The laugh that comes from Sheppard is hollow and defeated but he straightens up, locks his jaw, and takes two more steps before turning and making it to the other end. Cam helps him maneuver into the wheelchair, silently grateful he’s not sitting in it.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a slave driver?” Sheppard mutters as he levers himself into bed.
“Yeah, well, I’m not gonna let you sit on your ass playing video games while we run around the galaxy risking our hides,” Cam tells him. “See you later?” He leaves at Sheppard’s nod, knows how exhausted he probably is right now.
That night Cam sits down to dinner with Teal’c and General O’Neill across from him and Sam next to him, trying to coax Daniel into remembering to eat something. Team dinners are hollow these days compared to what they once were, but then so’s the team and Cam’ll take whatever he can get.
Ten minutes in, Teal’c puts his fork down on a half-empty plate, looks at them all for a second and announces, “I will be accompanying Colonel Caldwell on his mission.”
Cam’s opening his mouth to protest, somehow convince Teal’c he can’t leave them, but General O’Neill beats him to it. “You know, T, I think we need you here a lot more than Caldwell needs you.”
“Atlantis has been safe for some time,” Teal’c points out. “And I must see how the Jaffa are fairing, lend my brothers help where I can.”
“We’ll miss you,” Sam says into her not-quite potatoes, no longer focusing on Daniel. “But we understand.”
“I do not intend good-bye to be forever,” Teal’c pointed out. “But I cannot abandon my own people.”
Cam nods around the food that’s made a lump in his throat. His team is never going to stop unraveling, and he can’t do anything about it.
The Daedalus leaves three days later. Teal’c hugs them all. Sam doesn’t pretend to hide the tears and Cam doesn’t make Teal’c promise to return, but he does make him promise to try. They get two more days of peace before Cam wakes up in the process of falling out of bed with alarms screaming and the entire city shaking.
He has his feet shoved into boots (haven’t been attacked in a while, still keeps them ready by the side of his bed), tac vest on (over pajamas), sidearm in hand and he’s through his door before he even wakes up. “This is Mitchell,” he says, thumbing his radio after fumbling it onto his ear. “What’s happening?”
“Replicators came out of nowhere,” Lorne’s voice answers him.
“Mitchell, are you near an armory?” O’Neill’s voice cuts through.
Cam quickly reviews his mental map of the city. “Not close sir, but I can get there.” Another blast rips through somewhere, and Cam staggers into a wall as the entire city shakes.
“That was the science labs,” somebody shouts over the radio and before Mitchell can respond or ask O’Neill for orders the entire thing goes dead. He heads for the armory, hoping to at least learn more about the situation when he gets there.
When he runs past the infirmary someone shouts “Mitchell” through the doorway, draws him up hard. Sheppard’s sitting up in bed (as much as he can) and beckoning him over. “Get me to the Control Chair.”
“Sheppard, I don’t have time for this,” Cam starts to protest.
“Look, I can’t fly, and I can’t fight them off, but but if I’m gonna sit on my ass while you run around risking your hides, I’d rather do that where I can make a difference,” Sheppard snaps and Cam knows that hopeless feeling and he’s getting Sheppard into a wheelchair before he even decides to.
They use up what Cam is sure must be their last bit of luck in the clear path to the control room and Cam is getting Sheppard into the Chair when the radio kicks back in and there is screaming and calls for backup in the science labs and Sam is there and McKay is there and Sheppard takes one look at him and says “go.”
Cam’s out the door, full-speed, as he hears the Chair whine into life, halfway to the science labs before he thinks to wonder how many drones they have left. The smell of smoke hits him long before he runs smack into the devastation and the big, giant hole in the wall showing just how far down the ocean is. A figure emerges from the smoke, resolves into Sam (bandana around her mouth) dragging an unconscious McKay
She points forward and, as the city shakes again, he covers his mouth and walks into hell, helping direct the stream of scientists Sam has lead out of chaos. By the time they’re out, everything’s gone quiet. O’Neill’s voice comes through the radio giving the all clear. For now.
Cam collapses on the floor next to Sam, leaning slightly into her shoulder. “I’m getting too old for this,” he mutters, letting his head fall against the wall and closing his eyes.
Her laugh quickly degenerates into a coughing fit, but it’s worth it. Been a long time since he heard it.
Part Two