Ardhanarishvara Part Twenty-Three

[auburnnotlisa]

Parts 1 - 20

Part 21

Part 22



When the sound of a second incoming wormhole fills the gateroom, Elizabeth fears the worst.

On the heels of dispatching the marine reaction force with Lorne, she's alerted Carson to have a full emergency medical team ready in the jumper bay and the entire department on alert. The call was made as soon as Captain Douglas's clipped request for ground troops and a drone-equipped jumper had sounded through the first wormhole. It still doesn't feel like enough.

Impossible to judge yet how bad the situation on Heka may be. Elizabeth hasn't had a chance to get to know Captain Douglas yet, and she can't see through Douglas's cool, well-trained military demeanor to evaluate the true level of urgency behind her request.

"Atlantis Flight, this is Cleo Three Alpha requesting clearance to return through the gate. Over." Sheppard's voice over the radio is reassuring for half a second, until the noise behind her steady voice registers, high and uneven. It's the sound of screaming.

"John," she says loudly, "what is happening? Shall we send in further troops?" Standing behind Chuck at the DHD console, she stares at the shield-covered wormhole, its blue-bright ripple flickering over the gateroom floor, and waits for the response.

"Flight, situation is stable, withdrawing from Heka, with one casualty and numerous refugees," Sheppard replies, ignoring her more personal question. "Reinforcements not necessary."

Elizabeth's stomach clenches. Casualty. But there is no need to ask now; they will be here in - lightyears. Seconds.

John warned her when they began this mission. She knows Steven Caldwell had the same worries. But she'd held on to hope. And now she is afraid to ask whom they have lost because the truth is, it'll make a difference. One of the military, one of the scientists, one of those few she is close to? Not John, because John is on the radio, but what about Rodney? Or was it a Hekan who died because of them?

"Lower the shield," she tells Chuck.

He glances at her and just nods, fingers already flying over the console.

"Colonel Sheppard," she says, "you're cleared to return."

"Understood," she says, half of it into the harsh buzz of static.

The first jumper slides through the gate. There are smoke streaks marring its hull. It rotates and begins to rise through the open roof into the jumper bay.

Elizabeth watches as the second and third jumpers arrive through the wormhole. She's not Sheppard or Radek, can't tell them apart or guess which one belongs to John and Rodney; the angle is wrong to glimpse the pilots through the viewports.

Elizabeth turns and heads for the jumper bay, careful to keep her pace fast but controlled. She has a feeling she'll be needed there. On impulse, she taps her radio as she reaches the nearest transporter. "Captain Harper, put your marines on stand-by and send an extra security squad to the Jumper Bay, please."

"Roger that, ma'am. Over."

She switches channels. "Carson, have your people reached the jumper bay?"

"Yes, Dr.Weir, and it's a guddle here!" His accent is dense.

"Carson, speak English," she grits out.

"We've wee lassies everywhere."

For a fleeting second Elizabeth pictures collies, then - even more ridiculously - harems and John Sheppard's propensity to bring home alien women. Which isn't fair, she knows, as there's only been Chaya Sar, but somehow Rodney's constant references to John as a space Casanova have infiltrated her brain.

Sheppard's voice over-rides Carson's on the command channel. "We've got about thirty-five little girls that we rescued from human sacrifice."

She's exiting the transporter as the screaming starts again over the radio. Only now, she realizes it isn't someone in brutal pain. It's children.

"Carson! John?"

Sheppard's voice again, rough enough to sound almost male. "It's the kids; it's just the kids. Don't send in the cavalry."

The extra marines jog up as Elizabeth reaches the bay door. "Ma'am," a sergeant greets her, coming to attention. They're all wearing full gear, something she's learned to recognize. She stops them with a lifted hand, her other cycling her headset through the command channel, the control feed, and the private channels for Rodney and John. She catches, "- watch out," from Rodney, as he snaps at someone. "They bite."

"Just a moment, please," she tells the marines.

John is saying: "Get Ronon and Teyla and Captain Leitmann down here. Maybe Dr. Heightmeyer, too," while Carson sounds aghast in the background, "Lad, did you have to put a body in here with them?"

"Yes. We weren't leaving him behind."

Rodney's voice rises over Sheppard's, "Spaceship, not luxury liner with playground, Carson!"

And Carson mutters something under his breath, woefully. Time to get in there. Elizabeth opens the door. And walks into chaos.

Voices echo off the metal walls. The jumpers are grounded in an erratic line, and the entire bay smells like smoke and petroleum distillates. Her heart beats a sharp staccato rhythm until she sees Sheppard, sees Rodney, and feels relief. Immediately guilty, her eyes fly over the others. Who is missing? Sheppard and one of the marines are lifting a long, black plastic bag - body bag, her mind tells her - onto a gurney. She spots Lieutenant Palecki, Crown, and Captain Douglas. Children, screaming; a few of them are running, others are already huddled in corners, dirt-streaked, sooty. At least one is bleeding. Some of them still trail ropes from their wrists and ankles. God.

She hears Rodney's voice above the rest. "Stop squirreling around, you little pests. Isn't enough we've rescued you?" He's at the hatch of the jumper Sheppard just exited, flapping his hands at a cluster of small girls in his way, looking utterly exhausted. She would smile, if the situation weren't so dire. "Rodney," she says and he looks up and spots her, making a helpless gesture at the girls.

Elizabeth works her way through the swirling crowd of medics, marines, mechanics, scientists, and children, to Sheppard's side. "John," she says, "what happened? Whom did we lose?"

Although she isn't experienced with children, the urge to bend down, to stroke and calm, is strong. But she'll aid all of them more by keeping her head.

Rodney glares at her, then forcibly picks up one girl and shoves her at Palecki, before detouring around a second and bolting off the jumper ramp. Poor Lieutenant Palecki must be smothering, as two little ones are already wrapped around his shoulders and head. The one Rodney just abandoned begins bawling. Palecki appears to be ready to join her.

"I'm going to see how Simpson is," Rodney calls. With that he stomps toward the one jumper still closed up.

"John -" Elizabeth tries again.

"Real hand for kids, McKay," Sheppard gasps out, already trying to gently lead a particularly small child off the jumper hatch. The girl bats at her feebly and shrieks, making even Elizabeth, standing over a meter away, wince along with Sheppard. Then she darts away, out into the jumper bay, with its shadows and sharp angles and uncertain marines clutching at their weapons as though a bunch of dirty, frightened girls were scarier than the Wraith.

Sheppard looks briefly nonplussed, then just tired, her gaze following the little girl's flight until she runs right into Carson's legs.

"Here, here, lass, come with me," Carson says, swooping her up. The girl stares at Carson, brown eyes huge in her face...and shrieks, even louder.

Sheppard's gaze flicks to Elizabeth, away from Carson and the turmoil in the jumper bay. Her mouth forms a grim line. "Reyes."

"Oh. Oh, no," Elizabeth exclaims.

Sheppard nods tightly.

The pictures of his daughters. All of a sudden, Elizabeth remembers them with frightening clarity. "He was going home."

"Yeah."

"How did it -" She closes her eyes, exhales.

"Jumper Eight lost all power, dropped in the middle of the damned village where they were holding the Athosians," Sheppard says in a clipped voice. There's more, there's always more, but this will do for now, Elizabeth knows. Eventually, they will analyze and what-if the scenario until it's etched into their brains forever.

For now, they have the present situation to deal with. She says, "Right; let's clear this chaos first."

Against her earlier notion, she does bend down, reaches out her hand to one little girl crouching into the shadow of the jumper's hatch. "Hello?"

The girl shrinks away, hides her face against the green metal.

Sheppard nods. "They won't follow people they don't know."

Rodney is slamming his palm against the hatch of the last jumper. "Miller! Open this hatch right now!"

Sheppard's head whips toward the noise. "I've got to talk to Miller and Kim."

"Kim don't talk," Palecki mutters. He looks whiter than white, and Elizabeth sees that his hands around the children's waists are as tight as if they were holding him in place, not the other way around.

Sheppard ignores him. "Lieutenant, help Beckett with the kids."

Palecki blinks, responds dutifully. "Yes, sir." He heads for the transporters.

"All these children need to go to medical, Elizabeth," Carson says on her other side, distracting her.

Sheppard's already striding off and Elizabeth has to trot to keep up. She might not have the height and weight on most of the marines - never did - yet everyone moves out of Sheppard's way. Even the children, Elizabeth notices.

She glances over at Rodney as they arrive at his side. He has his datapad out and is typing furiously, peering at the unopened jumper, obviously accessing it.

Sheppard slaps her hand on the hull, frowns, and the hatch starts to open.

Rodney's head jerks up, his eyes narrow and his mouth goes slack for second before pursing into a frown. "I hate you."

Sheppard seems unamused. "No news there."

Elizabeth looks between them, sensing something, but there's no time to ask now. Rodney closes his datapad and tucks it away as Sheppard turns toward the opening hatch, yelling into the darkness, "Miller, you in there?"

"Yes, ma'am," comes a tired voice.

Sheppard relaxes a fraction, but the frown stays where it is. "Dr. Kim?"

Rodney pushes past Sheppard and into the jumper. "Simpson?"

"All here and accounted for, ma'am," Miller says.

The man looks shellshocked as he steps out of the cockpit, Elizabeth thinks.

Still, when she steps closer, she sees he has nothing on Dr. Simpson, who is half-leaning, half-lying against the wall of the jumper, next to an Athosian. Terim, she recognizes. There's another figure in the dim light - the other Athosian she's heard about but hasn't seen. Fillad, her memory supplies. Dr. Kim is lingering in the cockpit, watching silently as usual.

Terim is holding Simpson's head in his lap, talking to her in low, soft tones.

Fillad steps into the light. "I have never encountered such gretch," he spits.

Elizabeth blinks. She's never seen an Athosian not Teyla so...incensed. The message is pretty clear. The Athosians have not been successful in their approach to the Hekans either.

Fillad is pacing in the small area. "Human sacrifice," he goes on. "Worse than the Wraith!"

"Are you all okay?" she asks, knowing they're not. Then, the words filter through. The children. They were - no, she doesn't much care to think about how the teams found them. All she needs to know right now is that these kids needed saving, and that she's the one who has to make the right decisions now.

Rodney drops down before Simpson gracelessly, his hand on her shoulder. "You're okay, you're going to be okay," he says softly. "I know you don't feel like it now, but it - it gets better." To Elizabeth's surprise, Simpson turns her head, half-lifts it from Terim's leg, trying to focus on Rodney.

Elizabeth's lips move but she can't make a sound. She doesn't know what happened to Simpson, fears any questions would traumatize her further.

Sheppard glances sharply at them, then faces Miller. "I told you to stay in the jumper." The jumper's interior lamps slant a streak of light over her cheekbone and leave her half her face in shadow. Miller looks gray, facing her.

"I made a judgment call, ma'am," Miller says stiffly. He's almost at attention.

"Consider yourself lucky it wasn't the wrong one," Sheppard snaps.

"Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard -" Terim says, from below, voice resounding in the jumper. "He saved us."

Sheppard's face sets. "And disobeyed orders."

"I'm prepared to face the consequences," Miller says. He lifts his chin, stares at a point over Sheppard's left shoulder.

"John -" Elizabeth says. "Under the circumstances -"

"Don't interfere with the chain of command, Dr. Weir," Sheppard interrupts, turning to glare at her.

Elizabeth bites back a comment, hurt, but she knows Sheppard does have the right; this is her call.

Rodney, however, isn't so wise, or well-meaning. "You're such a hypocrite, Colonel," he snipes. "You're just pissed you didn't get to ride to the rescue this time."

"Rodney!" Elizabeth says, honestly baffled. For God's sake, what happened between these two? She bends down to Rodney, close enough so no one save Terim and Simpson can hear. "Stop it, Rodney. Focus."

Rodney glares at her in turn. "You know, Elizabeth, when you've heaved twenty kids into a jumper, stumbling around in the dark getting ready to roast to death, while listening to someone get torn apart alive over your radio -"

"Rodney!" she says, louder.

"- then tell me to stop it!"

She firms her voice. "I'm telling you, yes. Do your job!"

"My job doesn't include any of those things," he says, voice low and intent.

"McKay!" Sheppard snaps.

"Your job does include not flinging around accusations in emergency situations," Elizabeth snaps. She'd like to say more, but this isn't the time, place, or circumstance. Rodney has some right to his anger. This - this isn't what he signed up for, not even as a member of a gate team. This is combat, not what any of them expected, though he doesn't get a free pass either. Later, she'll be willing to listen to him.

Right now? She wants him to shut up.

"Miller," Sheppard says, "don't do that again." She glances at Fillad, Terim, Kim, and Simpson, nods and addresses Miller in a quieter, less formal tone. "And don't let this go to your head, but - you did good."

The tight lines around Miller's eyes ease a little, leaving nothing but exhaustion.

To Elizabeth, they all look like they're ready to drop, though they were gone no more than two hours. She can see their bone-deep tiredness now.

But, the children. And her mind keeps replaying Rodney's words: torn apart alive. No wonder they were all pushed to their limits.

"Elizabeth." Teyla's voice. His lower register is still startling. Elizabeth half-turns, sees Captain Leitmann's wheat-blond head gleaming beyond Teyla.

"Good, there you both are," Elizabeth says briskly. "We need help handling these children."

Leitmann, bless the man, is already crouching down, nodding at the girl right beside the jumper. "Well, come here, then," he says softly, and after a moment, the girl does, but if anything she looks more terrified than ever, like she's walking to her execution.

"Where's Ronon?" Sheppard asks.

"She insisted on accompanying Major Lorne, Lieutenant Cadman and the reaction force," Elizabeth tells her.

Sheppard nods, unsurprised, and nods at Leitmann. "Captain, I'm leaving you in charge of getting them all to medical, and then we'll have to put them up somewhere?" Her gaze flickers back to Elizabeth.

Who sighs. "How about some of the old Athosian quarters? They're habitable, and close by so we can supervise the kids." The yelling, the screaming, the smell from a dozen upset and emptied stomachs has Elizabeth's head pounding. And that's in the vast and echoing jumper bay, not a small, enclosed jumper. Small wonder John and Rodney are snapping and snarling. Mentioning the old Athosian quarters reminds her of the lesson they learned within days of arriving in Atlantis: it is no place for children. "But we can't keep them here indefinitely."

"We'll think of something," Sheppard says, voice low. And, more urgent, "Just, get them out of here, into safety. Someplace quiet, with food."

Teyla appears again, one tiny child in his arm. Elizabeth feels sick. That little girl can't be more than three. The Hekans aren't fit to have children. Some things go beyond any rational being's tolerance of social and cultural differences. "I agree. Let us make sure they're all right, first," Elizabeth tells her. Above the cacophony of voices, she calls out, "Carson - can you have your team prepare the infirmary so we can have the children examined?" She waits for his affirmative, then turns back to Sheppard.

Her impulse to touch Sheppard's shoulder or arm is strong, but no matter how much the strain is showing, Sheppard just doesn't welcome comforting touches. Not from Elizabeth, anyway. She'd seen Teyla touch Sheppard before the change, though rarely since. She used to wonder if that meant they were sleeping together. She doesn't think they are - or were - and knows it isn't her business either way. Neither Teyla or John would let it make a difference. Maybe they're all too attached by any normal workplace guidelines, but they love each other because they love their duty, too. She gets that because she loves Atlantis and them - they are Atlantis, Sheppard's team and all her people. "Colonel," she says instead, "get to medical yourself. I expect a debriefing once Carson's finished giving you your post-mission exam."

Sheppard closes her eyes for a second, then seems to draw on some unseen well of energy, straightening and becoming all business again. "Right. McKay, you want to stick with Simpson?"

"Huh, what? Yes. Yes, that's okay." The fight seems to have drained from Rodney too.

"Fillad, Terim?" Miller says. "You want to come with me? I'll take you to the infirmary. I know a short cut."

"We are not in need of healing," Terim objects.

"It is a formality of the Earthers," Teyla says from the hatch opening of the jumper.

Terim glances at Teyla, then very quickly away. Fillad doesn't even acknowledge the words.

Elizabeth feels anger, sharp and sudden as Teyla takes a step back. But this isn't her fight; and she doesn't think she can help Teyla. Nor does Teyla want her help.

Before she can offer any sympathy or say anything unwise, Captain Leitmann is drawing Teyla away, saying, "I could use your help over here, Teyla."

It is too easy to see how grateful Teyla is to go with him. And that in and by itself is painful.

Sheppard isn't quite as diplomatic as Elizabeth; no surprise. She glances at Fillad and Terim and her lip curls up. "If you weren't allies, I'd dump you through the stargate right back there, for treating Teyla like that," she tells them in a hoarse voice, one Elizabeth thinks she wasn't supposed to hear.

Fillad stares at Sheppard, then his gaze skids away from her, and there's a lost expression on Terim's face.

Whatever problems Rodney and John have between them, it doesn't extend to not standing united. Rodney's on his feet and glowering at the two Athosians from next to her. "Idiots," he sneers.

"It is - it is our way," Terim murmurs.

"Well, it's a dead end," Rodney snaps. "Come on, Simpson, let's get out of here. I'm always afraid the stupid will be catching."

Simpson may not have gotten the whole conversation, lost in her own nightmare, but she gets Rodney, it seems. She stands up - lets him pull her up, and they exit the jumper, his hand on her arm, her hip, steadying her. Miller and Kim follow a moment later, trailing Fillad and Terim.

Once they're gone, Sheppard slumps down onto one of the bench and drops her head into her hands. "Jesus."

Elizabeth leans against the wall, not speaking, not saying anything. There's no pat on the back, no pep talk that would help Sheppard.

Sheppard lifts her head and meets Elizabeth's eyes. "If we hadn't had the life sign detectors...."

"But we did," she says, with emphasis, then, more quietly, "John, don't beat yourself up over what-ifs. We made our choices knowing that the mission could fail in some way."

Sheppard nods wearily. A shiver runs through her. The jumpers are climate-controlled, but this one is standing open and the bay is always metal chill, too deep within the city to catch the sun for long, even when the overhead doors are irised open. "Yeah." She straightens, giving her arms a brisk rub. "We've got to ground all the modified jumpers, though, until Zelenka can go over them."

"That sounds like a sensible decision." Elizabeth smiles gently at her.

"Too late for Sergeant Reyes," Sheppard says bitterly.

Reyes was a good man as well as a good marine, one Elizabeth will personally miss, but she knows Sheppard is closer to the marines and other sundry military forces represented in the Atlantis command than she will ever be. Sheppard trained them for Pegasus duty, gave out the assignments to fit Elizabeth's orders. It's a different but equal weight to the one Elizabeth imposes on herself. "I'm sorry."

Sheppard stands and stares out at the emptying jumper bay. "It's what we sign up for." A glance over her shoulder is all shadows. "But all I can think is, if we'd delayed this mission by a week, let Zelenka do his checks before, Reyes would still be alive."

"It was my call, John," Elizabeth tries to catch her eye. "I was in favor of a fast mission sequence. I know you're the military commander, but I make the final decisions here."

She knows - and what's more, knows it's the right thing to do - that their decisions are joint ones, except in emergencies, but John needs to realize this didn't happen due to her oversight. They are always flying blind, and now, again, they are reminded of that. They often trust their good fortune in Pegasus. The problem is: Good luck runs out.

Sheppard gives a sharp nod. "I'll meet you in the briefing room?"

"Take a shower and whatever time you need," Elizabeth tells her. "Give the situation time to settle so we can see it more clearly."

Sheppard doesn't look as if she doubts their clarity at present. But she nods, and leaves.

The incoming wormhole klaxon rings through their radios and the jumper bay. Over the command channel, Elizabeth hears Major Lorne's, "Flight, this is Jumper One, requesting clearance to return. We've blown the downed jumper in place. Over."

Sheppard's shoulders droop for an instant, exhaustion combined with relief.

Elizabeth switches her headset mic on. "This is Weir. Disengage the shield and instruct Jumper One they are cleared to return."

~*~

"No, don't touch that!"

The little girl snatches her hand back hastily, darting away only to be half-swallowed by the storage shelves for antiseptic bandages.

"Don't touch that, either!"

Teyla is moving already, taking one sticky hand and leading the girl back to the others. Carson and the nurses are...somewhat overwhelmed. The marines' faces showed they did not believe escorting a throng of children to the infirmary fell within their duties, but their presence kept the little ones quiet. Now, the children brought in for the initial check-up are harder to control. Many of the Hekan girls are scared, standing or crouching in timid clusters, but a few are running around, wild, only barely held in check by Marie and Ivan.

"You, stay here," she hears him grumbling at one particularly stubborn girl whose hair, underneath the dirt and grime, may very well be lighter than Leitmann's.

"Here," the child echoes, glances around, then says, a little louder: "Will we have to work in the fields?" It makes Carson look helplessly to Teyla and Elizabeth.

Again, Leitmann comes through. "There are no fields in Atlantis," he says, voice soft but carrying. "You will have some responsibilities, though."

Out of the corner of her eye, Teyla can see Elizabeth shaking her head at the chaplain. Teyla feels a stubborn spark of anger - there is no way they can keep these girls here, but she is glad of Leitmann's attempts to provide for some sense of stability in addition to security. She lets her gaze wander over the children, then beyond. At the far end of the infirmary, behind a half-pulled privacy curtain, Dr. Biro is giving the pilots and scientists a cursory post-mission exam. The sound of Rodney's complaints drifts, spiking higher even than the voices of the children.

Carson boosts one of the smallest onto a exam table. "Now, then, we're going to make sure you haven't been hurt or sick." He gives the girl a reassuring if slightly shaken smile before glancing over his shoulder. "Marie, we'll want to inoculate all of them. Can you start setting that up?" The nurse nods her affirmative.

Leitmann turns to the oldest, the blonde girl still standing next to him, who looks to be perhaps twelve or thirteen; hard to tell since she is so thin. "What's your name?"

She glances up at him, seemingly frightened. "Name?" she mumbles.

"Name," Leitmann repeats. "What are you called?" His handsome features are twisting into an impressive frown. Not aimed at the girl, but at the circumstances. Or rather, the Hekans.

The girl's eyes skid away. "The women call me Lera."

Teyla exchanges a horrified glance with Leitmann and leans forward. "And what do the men call you?" Leitmann strokes the lank hair away from her face.

"Nothing," Lera replies, going very still under Leitmann's careful hand. Staring at the infirmary floor. "I'm a girl."

Teyla can't hold in a soft hiss, or keep her fists from clenching. Only men have names.

Leitmann helps the next girl onto the table; she observes how careful he is with his touch - arms only now, friendly but matter-of-fact.

The kids look even more confused and doubtful by now. Teyla frowns, tries to catch Lera's eye. "Lera, what is it?"

"He let her talk to him!"

"Yes," Teyla says. "Here, Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir are in charge. They are both women." The words feel awkward on her tongue. Not a lie, but not completely true. Teyla has hope for Lera, who asks questions, for others who keep watching them with fearful but avid eyes, but too many of the girls are silent. She wonders if they will ever recover from the way they have been raised.

Leitmann slants a look at Teyla, both full of hope and at a loss.

"Do you know what the Ancestor's Ring is?" Teyla asks finally. "Beyond the Ancestor's Ring, there are many worlds," she adds. "Many of them where women rule because men are -" she grapples for words, searches, settles on what is silly but, perhaps, most understandable, "short-sighted."

Surprise, but then Leitmann flashes a grin at her. Teyla suppresses her own smile, knowing these girls are listening because she appears to be a man. A man telling them women can rule. A man telling them men lack foresight. It is humorous.

Leitmann grins. She's thankful for Leitmann; he's a man, and properly aghast, but he still brings calm and levity that she is grateful for.

"Will we stay here?" Lera asks.

"I do not know," Teyla answers. "Perhaps. Perhaps there will be a better place for you on another world, one safer than here."

"But for now, yes." Leitmann adds. "You're safe. You won't go back to where you came from."

At that, the children begin to look uncomfortable again; two start crying - Teyla can make out, "Mommy!" and "But my sister...." It's hardly a surprise that children as small as many of these are would be devastated by being separated from their families, no matter how abusive at least parts of them were. She wonders, should she remind them of that? But it's unlikely her words would overcome the tide of emotions these children are feeling right now. This is a moment where they can do no more than offer support through their actions.

Captain Leitmann, Teyla reflects, is wonderful with them, offering support and reassurance, quietly, without judgment even if this does seem to disturb several of the older girls. She, too, steps forward, helps to lift the girls up, put them down again. Teyla feels herself relax just a little. Maybe it will be all right in the end. Leitmann's better with them even than Beckett. Firm.

A part of the infirmary has been cleared out, and Teyla leads the ones already given the all-clear there. She entertains them with tales of other worlds, while keeping an eye on the captain and thinking how comforting it is to have someone present who exudes quiet strength, who is very much an adult, yet gentle when the need arises.

It does not hurt that he is a handsome man, too. There are attractive men on Atlantis, of course, but few of the otherwise good-looking soldiers have ever proven to be interested in the less...physical side of the world. The captain is always willing to speak of philosophy and culture with her. And Rodney is not mistaken, Captain Leitmann is very pleasant indeed to the eye.

"A veritable Adonis," Rodney had commented sourly when the captain arrived on the Daedalus.

"Adonis?" Teyla had asked, her eyes drawn to the man. "What does that mean?"

"Short," Ronon had said, after one measuring glance.

Sheppard had grinned, then, and said, "The kind of guy Rodney thinks looks way too good, distracting all the women from their lab work." Rodney gave Sheppard a speaking look while Sheppard's grin got wider and wider. "Or," she had added, with a smile directed at Teyla, "their stick-fighting, I guess."

As if he has heard her thoughts, Leitmann looks up and meets her eyes. The concentration on his face melts into a smile, and Teyla can't help smiling back. She knows he will help these children and understand their feelings of displacement. He has been a thoughtful friend, and listened to her since her own people turned her away. "That's a chaplain's job, really," he has said, but she thinks it is perhaps more.

It has been good to be with someone who did just that, she thinks - listened without thought of trying to change her mind. Kate keeps telling her to 'approach things more positively,' but Teyla does not feel one bit like doing so. Leitmann has not once fed her any of the sweet lies - that there is no difference, that this male body is as good as her woman's body, that he hardly notices. His calm and balance have been what she's craved. He's offered her companionship without the need for her to offer reassurance in turn. Her team would offer the first, but she would feel the need to reciprocate; it becomes ultimately exhausting for all of them.

None of them is very calm anymore.

After their last Hermean visit, it is both easier and harder for her to understand the Hermeans - their underlying reasons, certainly, but how this change is supposed bring forth tolerance and acceptance? No, Teyla does not quite see that those qualities have been in overabundance since that day they returned from the cloaked planet. Though perhaps the cracks and fractures have always existed - in potential - within her team mates and herself. Perhaps it is well to know yourself, to confront your failings and learn to compensate for them.

To accept them.

And if she is honest with herself - part of it is the Earthers' culture. Just as part of her problems stem from her own. She is not so tolerant and flexible as she had prided herself on being, not when it comes to herself. Other challenges - she still thinks she could face many things. But parting with the body she'd fought so hard with, and for...

She shakes off memories, taps her radio. "Elizabeth?"

A moment of static, then her voice, "Yes, Teyla?"

"Are my people's old rooms ready to receive the children?"

"Half an hour, Teyla. Before that, how about some food? I had Lorne arrange to have the mess hall serve a meal for the girls.

"Thank you, Dr. Weir. We will feed them first."

Motion next to her; it's Leitmann, who nods appreciatively. "Good thinking, Teyla. I would've just brought them into the rooms, I guess." He boosts one of the littlest onto the exam table where Teyla and two others already sit. Smiles at her. "Are you hungry, little one?"

The girl peeks at him through her fingers, then nods jerkily.

"It is okay," Teyla reassures her, remembering women eat after the men on Heka. "Everyone has all they need."

"But you haven't eaten." Lera whispers, not quite looking at but speaking in Teyla's direction.

"Yes, I have - earlier," Teyla tells her. "And it would not matter. Everyone eats together and there is as much as you need." Other than when they run out of supplies, she thinks to herself. But that hasn't happened since they re-established contact with Earth. And by now, Teyla thinks, they might actually survive well enough on their own.

Save for the Wraith, of course. They are always the of course.

Again, a murmur weaves through the huddled mass of children. "We haven't eaten anything since yesterday morning," Lera confides. "The priests said we didn't need it. Because we were going to -"

"Shh," Leitmann cuts in, "that's not gonna happen now. Just a moment."

Teyla is about to contact him again when, on her radio, Major Lorne says, "Teyla? The mess is ready in ten minutes. We've got soup and scrambled powdered eggs and toast and the Not-Tuna Surprise that was going to be lunch tomorrow. By the way, everyone in Atlantis says thank you for getting rid of that."

Teyla feels her lips curl into a smile and toggles her radio. "Thank you right back, Major. We'll be there."

She puts a gentle hand on the head of the child closest to her and looks at the others. "The food will warm all of you up, and the rooms we prepared for you are very comfortable."

"Yeah, McKay's not going to be happy. The cooks got out the brownies, too."

"Bloodshed is imminent," she mutters so only Lorne can hear it, pleased by his slight snort.

He laughs. "Maybe I'll make sure they set aside a plate for him and the Colonel."

"I suspect that would be a wise course of action, Major."

Movement in the corner of her eye: At the far end of the infirmary, Sheppard sweeps the curtain aside and stalks toward the exit, followed by Rodney. They both look terrible, Teyla notices again.

She would have paid them little mind, then, but when they have almost reached the door, Rodney opens his mouth. He keeps his voice down, yet there is an urgency in it she has heard often but has never heard directed at Sheppard. "Colonel, if you would just listen to me -"

Sheppard spins and stabs a finger into Rodney's chest. "Not now, McKay! I'm not in the mood."

"What? Oh, please, this isn't about me! This is about you blaming yourself for what those animals did to Reyes!"

The colonel's face sets, blank as the face of a doll, but harder, eyes narrowed. "Because I am responsible, Rodney!"

"Why are you doing this, Colonel? You're not God, you're not even Ascended!" They are disappearing into the hallway, but their voices aren't: Rodney's has been climbing higher and higher. It is not her place, and it is not as if it usually helps much, but his and Sheppard's agitation is painful for her...and not for the rest of Atlantis to witness.

"Excuse me for a moment," she tells Leitmann and Carson with a brief but wide smile. "I will be right back."

She is only a few steps behind them; thankfully, no one else is. She clears her throat, but the sound is drowned out by Sheppard's harsh whisper to Rodney.

"Christ, how often do I have to tell you? I'm the military commander; everything that happens, happens with me in charge." Sheppard squares her shoulders, voice flattening again. "I have to go make a report to Elizabeth."

"What, this very moment? Your adherence to military protocol in all situations when - when no one is giving you orders to defy - would be funny if it weren't so sad!" Teyla cannot quite place Rodney's tone, but she knows him well enough to know that beneath the belligerence, there is genuine concern. Worry, even.

Sheppard just shakes that off, obviously tired, and continues as though she had not heard Rodney, "Plus one for the Marine Corps, one for the SGC, and a letter to his family. I have to do it now."

"Yes, yes, all necessary, but...." Rodney falters, but before Teyla can step up to them, he speaks again. "You could, you know - if you wanted to - come by."

Oh. Teyla stops, knows. This isn't a conversation where her contribution would help. At all.

"Rodney, damn it, I can't." Sheppard slows her pace, almost imperceptibly, and Teyla can only half-see how she bites her lip. "I told you why." She swipes her hair out of her eyes, stares at Rodney, who has turned to her, is staring at her, his face shifting from hope to resignation.

"Right, you have. Fine. I get it." A muscle in Rodney's jaw twitches, and he quickens the pace and keeps walking. Away toward the private quarters, not the labs.

"McKay -" But Rodney is already around a corner, too late to hear Sheppard's quiet but explosive, "I just have to do this stuff first. Fuck."

Teyla clears her throat and Sheppard half-turns, seeing her there. A grimace, pained and embarrassed, flickers over her features and she lifts one hand.

"John," Teyla starts.

"Not now, Teyla," Sheppard says. "Please."

Teyla nods, meaning to return to the infirmary. Sheppard doesn't move, staring down at her feet, and is still standing there when the doors open again and Major Lorne, followed by Ronon and the marine reaction force troop into the infirmary.

"You need help?" Ronon asks, followed by a stiff, "Sir!" from Lorne.

Sheppard's face smooths into the mask of calm, good humor she uses when most stressed. "No," she says tersely. She jerks her head toward the far corner of the infirmary. "Get your exams. Biro's over there."

~*~

For the first time ever, Elizabeth's couch actually looks good, Sheppard thinks as she walks into her office. Those masks are still ugly, but once she's slumped down on the couch, she doesn't have to actually look at them.

Elizabeth's already at her desk. She doesn't look exactly fresh, but that's mostly responsibility and worry. Elizabeth cares about everybody, every casualty, just as much now as she did when they first arrived in Atlantis. At least she doesn't stink of smoke. Sheppard can smell the scent of burning skour wafting up from her, on clothes, caught in her hair, and the thought of a hot shower is a dream surpassing all others.

Just washing her hands would be good, if she could stop before she scrubbed them raw. She can still feel the stiff, rubbery body bag they zipped Reyes into on her fingers. Keeps rubbing them together, rubbing them against her pants, until she clasps her hands together to stop herself.

Don't think about Reyes. Not now.

"John?" Elizabeth asks, startling her about of the black thoughts. "Are you okay?"

She lifts her head and blinks at Elizabeth. "Okay?" she repeats. "I'm fine." And adds, "I'm not the one in a body bag."

She regrets the sarcasm immediately, as Elizabeth glances down, if just for a second. It isn't like Elizabeth is one of those commanders who throw away their people's lives without considering the cost. That little slip is going to cost Sheppard at least one visit with Heightmeyer.

"I meant to be kind," Elizabeth says, the lines around her eyes a touch more prominent. "Never mind, then."

"Sorry."

Elizabeth straightens, slowly, as if she's as tired as Sheppard. "Do you have any idea what we can do with these children?"

Sheppard's tenuous hold on her temper, strained since Rodney identified the children in the skour fields, snaps. "These kids?" she hisses, leaning forward. "What about all the other kids on Heka?"

"John!" Elizabeth is taken aback. "Let's worry about everybody in our care first, please."

"It's not enough!"

Elizabeth takes a tiny step back, and that startles Sheppard. She hadn't realized that this thing, intensity bleeding into intimidation, had carried over. Hadn't meant to do so anyway.

"I don't disagree."

"But you don't agree, either," Sheppard accuses. She can't help it.

"Then what do you suggest?" Elizabeth voice has grown louder as well. She's almost shouting by the time she finishes: "Protecting these children, right here, right now, has to be our priority!"

"These kids are safe, here. It's the ones back on Heka who aren't, and not just the girls. Jesus, Elizabeth, no kid should be raised by those people."

Elizabeth has crossed her arms and doesn't budge. "We need to take a step back and consider all our options before taking any action."

Sheppard scrubs at her face, then jolts to her feet, pacing out of sheer exhaustion, because if she stays down, she's going to fall over. She knew Elizabeth was going to react this way.

"John -" For a moment, Elizabeth's eyes soften with worry.

"No, this isn't working!" Sheppard says.

"Well, maybe we shouldn't be." Elizabeth puts her hands on the table, flat. "We all need to get some rest first. Write up the AAR, then we will all meet and discuss what course we should take. But sleep first, John."

"Not until we figure this out!"

"Then you had better calm down," Elizabeth snaps. "I won't put up with this sort of behavior - from Rodney or from you."

"Figure what out?" Teyla, from the doorway. Calm, controlled, instantly commanding attention.

Sheppard pulls herself up, reins in the anger shivering through her. Elizabeth's right. Yelling won't help. She turns to Teyla. "We need to figure out what to do now. With the girls, and about Heka too. Because burning the skour isn't going to fix things."

"Colonel," Teyla says, and there's a flicker of unease in his eyes, too. As if he saw a glimpse of what she's feeling right now. "They truly thought to sacrifice their children to - to save the skour?" Teyla asks.

"That's exactly what those bastards meant to do," Sheppard replies.

Teyla closes his eyes for a second. Dark lashes, still; it's strange to see his face like this, resigned and furious, probably as furious as Sheppard feels, just not as visible because it's Teyla. Hell, it's weird to see Teyla in need of a shave, but it has been a long day already, and no end in sight. Not until they've found a solution.

"John, what do you suggest we do?" Elizabeth asks.

"Take all their kids away," Sheppard says promptly, without thinking about it, completely out of instinct.

"We must think of a way to help the Hekans," Teyla says, low but urgent.

"To hell with the Hekans," Sheppard snaps. "They're too far gone. We can save the kids. That's it."

"I agree with the Colonel. The adults are beyond our reach, and beyond our responsibility, too." Teyla looks at Elizabeth, beseechingly. "But the children, we cannot leave them there."

"We cannot be the child protective service of the Pegasus galaxy!" Elizabeth turns, eyes bright. "Over and over again, we've made mistakes in this galaxy because we haven't had enough information or taken the time to analyze it properly."

Teyla squares his shoulders, though, and meets her gaze unflinchingly. "We have all the information we need. I believe that in this case, we must simply act on it."

"Teyla." There's something pleading in Elizabeth's eyes now, underneath the frustration. "I would've thought you, of all people, had more sense. There is nothing simple about this situation. Lives are being lost."

"And I would have thought you, of all people, had more kindness and justice in you!"

"Okay, let's all take a deep breath, shall we?" Sheppard cuts in, voice soft, but there's something she knows, something in the back of her mind that gives her voice a core of steel. "Elizabeth's right; we - and that includes the Athosians - can't take in all the girl children; hell, not more than a few of them." They turn to stare at her. "But maybe there's another way." She looks at Teyla.

Who nods slowly, and whose expression brightens. "You are thinking of Xa."

"Wait, would the Xa take the girls?" Elizabeth asks cautiously.

Teyla looks stunned for a moment, and then he almost-smiles. He nods. "I am positive of it."

"John?" Elizabeth asks.

Sheppard nods slowly. After all, the Xa had wanted Rodney and Teyla to to make a contribution to their population, and that was a fifty-fifty gamble they'd get boys instead. "Yeah, that'd work."

"But what about the women?" Elizabeth asks. "They're innocent in this, and if we leave them, they'll only be forced to have more children."

Teyla frowns. "I believe the Xa would be willing to take in the Hekan women as well," she states. "They would probably consider it an act of honor."

"A Goddess-blessed action." Sheppard actually manages a tiny smile, remembering the way the priestesses phrased things.

Teyla's next words wipe the smile off her lips right away: "But they would not take the boys."

"Yeah, you're right." Sheppard worries her lip until she tastes blood.

Elizabeth still seems unsure. "So, sending women and girls to Xa is a possibility, but not one we can implement without studying the problem -"

"Great, you're going to put together a Study Group that can submit a paper to the IOA that recommends 'further investigation'?" Sheppard mocks. "Heka will just go on going to hell while fat-assed bureaucrats debate how to 'help' them without 'disturbing their culture.' Great."

"I'm certainly going to consult with the SGC and the IOA before authorizing any further actions," Elizabeth replies "As well as learning what everyone else on the mission can offer."

"My word isn't good enough?" Sheppard says.

"Right now, your word sounds like brat having a temper tantrum."

Teyla tilts his head, expression blank, but somehow conveying anger too. "It is a tantrum to care what happens to these people, to care deeply, and show it?" Teyla inquires of Elizabeth. Sheppard straightens and folds her arms over her chest, feeling vindicated. Teyla is on her side.

Sheppard raises her eyebrows and faces Elizabeth. Wishes she had Rodney next to her. It's always easier to work on Elizabeth when they're together. If she hadn't pushed him away earlier, he would be here. That's something she's still regretting. If she ever gets out of here, she knows she has to find Rodney and put things right. Whatever 'right' is. She doesn't know anymore.

"No, but it is childish to act like I'm the enemy simply because I'm counselling caution," Elizabeth tells Teyla.

Teyla takes this in, obviously unhappy...but he nods, eventually.

Sheppard deflates a little, knowing she hasn't a chance if Teyla decides Elizabeth is right. And maybe Elizabeth is right, but all her instincts insist they do something now, damn it.

"There has to be something we can do for all of those kids," she insists.

"There may be, but I doubt we will figure it out here, tonight," Elizabeth says, sounding as tired as Sheppard feels. "I want all the department heads in the conference room in the morning, with the AARs and everything else we have on Heka. This has to go to the IOA before we do anything else, John."

"I see." Teyla's voice is measured; he seems too calm. "Your IOA will decide what is best for people here all the way from your planet." In another galaxy, Teyla doesn't add, but Sheppard and Elizabeth both hear it. "They will decide for us what is good for us?"

"You don't believe in our good intentions?" Elizabeth asks, sounding honestly shocked.

A harsh, barked laugh; Sheppard's almost surprised that it's hers. "I don't believe in our good intentions," she mutters. "Sometimes." She shrugs at Teyla and Elizabeth. "I don't much believe anyone is all good these days."

Teyla glares at her. "I do not believe that to be the truth."

"Well, it is. Look at even your people, the way they're acting."

A flinch from Teyla. For just a moment, he looks away.

"Sorry if I've grown a little wary of some of the 'good' people of Pegasus, Teyla," Sheppard says, even knowing how shitty it is to blame Teyla for the Genii or any of the other crazies they've run into. Pegasus is a pressure cooker that makes every culture insane in its own way. Earth isn't better per se, but, Jesus, she thought the Athosians were far above what they've turned out to be since this whole thing with the sex switching. She's bitter for Teyla and angry that Teyla has just taken it from Halling and the others, because there is basically nothing she can do. She hates being helpless. It's why she hates this whole Hekan mess; she doesn't know what to do.

Teyla doesn't nod, but neither does he counter her words.

Elizabeth frowns. "I'm not the leader of Pegasus, Teyla, but I am responsible for this expedition. We have to seek counsel regarding any further military action...but we can make a decision regarding the girls here on Atlantis. How would you propose we deal with the latter?"

Sheppard rolls her eyes. "How about, we don't?"

"John," Elizabeth reproves, and adds, "We aren't accomplishing anything here. And, John, despite your feelings, I do believe a study group might not be the worst option. You and Rodney and Teyla would, of course, be part of it if you wanted. In any case, we will meet and discuss this further in the morning."

Teyla thinks for a moment. "In the meantime, Lieutenant Cadman could go through the stargate and conduct negotiations with the Xa to relocate the girls. She brokered the trade treaty; they know her."

Elizabeth is nodding.

"Or you could go through yourself, Elizabeth," Teyla adds.

"No," Sheppard snaps without thinking. When Elizabeth and Teyla turn to stare, she shrugs. "Not Elizabeth, not with a group we haven't had much direct contact with before. Save me that security nightmare, okay?" She grimaces an apology at Elizabeth. "We skirt sane procedure every time Rodney and I head offworld on the same team as it is - if we didn't need his expertise and someone with enough rank to negotiate I'd pull both of us off the team. But even during the first year, we didn't send you out into the field until it was a last ditch effort."

"Fair enough." Elizabeth tilts her head in acceptance. "John, you agree Lieutenant Cadman is a possible choice?"

Sheppard bites her lip but nods. "Yeah, that works. Just not you, Elizabeth. Let her convince the Xa that taking in the female Hekans is necessary." She thinks. "I suppose we might have to sweeten the deal, too." She knows her voice is tightening, but well, no helping that.

Elizabeth stares at her, eyes sharp but approving. "Yes, we have to prepare for negotiations. I would also like to be able to include a report on whether relocating the children to Xa is a viable option before I send the next databurst."

"I'll notify Cadman to put together her Xa team," Sheppard says. A grumbling sound from her stomach makes her grimace.

"And maybe stop by the mess," Elizabeth suggests.

Sheppard nods, a little embarrassed. "As soon as I've got the reports done."

Elizabeth takes a deep breath and says, "So, shall we discuss the mission focus tomorrow or wrap this up by deciding on the framework now?"

"Now," Sheppard replies immediately, even knowing that means not getting away until they have every detail hammered out and agreed on.

It'll be a while.

~*~