In the Clutches of This Darkness - Part I
Part I
The moment Rodney steps through the wormhole and into Atlantis’ familiar gate room, he knows something is wrong. For one thing, John’s conspicuously absent; for another, Woolsey’s there, wearing an even grimmer expression than usual.
“What happened?” Rodney demands as the uneasiness of the last few weeks blossoms into full-blown worry.
“Let’s talk in my office,” Woolsey replies, which does nothing to ease Rodney’s mind.
He wants to demand answers right there, but he knows Woolsey well enough by now to understand he won’t get results that way. So, Rodney just nods and follows him up to the office.
If it weren’t for John’s absence, Rodney would probably comment on how the city can’t function without him, but the truth is that it takes both of them-him and John-to keep things running smoothly.
And Rodney had heard from John just once while he’d been on Earth, at the beginning of his trip.
“What’s going on?” he demands as soon as the door slides shut behind him.
Woolsey steeples his hands in front of his face. “We seem to have lost Colonel Sheppard.”
“What?” Rodney demands before he thinks better of the question. “Where are Teyla and Ronon?”
“They’re fine,” Woolsey assures him. “Teyla thought she might have a lead, so she and Ronon are off-world right now.”
Rodney thinks of the last month he’s spent on Earth, in cushy hotel rooms, giving speeches to undergrads who have no idea what it’s like to go through the gate and risk their lives-students who think sacrifice means giving up a few nights of sleep to meet a deadline.
“What happened?” Rodney asks brusquely.
Woolsey sighs. “We had word that Michael was interfering on a particular world, and Colonel Sheppard insisted on going. Teyla and Ronon were knocked unconscious, and Colonel Sheppard disappeared. By the time Zelenka had retrieved the gate addresses that had been dialed, they were long gone.”
“Why didn’t you let me know?” Rodney demands. “You could have called me back.”
“We thought we could find him,” Woolsey admits. “And you were doing important work on Earth to ease the way for declassification when that becomes a possibility.”
Rodney refrains from snarling by a sheer force of will. “How long has he been missing?”
“Four weeks,” Woolsey admits.
Rodney manages not to put his face in his hands. All he can think is that Woolsey and the rest are fucking idiots for failing to call him as soon as they’d lost John. “Do we know it was Michael?” Rodney asks.
“That’s the consensus,” Woolsey replies. “And the little information that Teyla and Ronon have been able to gather confirms it.”
Rodney takes a deep breath, holding on to his temper by reminding himself that yelling at Woolsey won’t do any good. “Tell Ronon and Teyla to find me as soon as they get back. And I want all the information you have on this situation.”
“I’ve already asked that it be sent to your email address here on the city,” Woolsey promises.
Rodney nods. “Great.”
He heads to his lab, trusting that John’s Marines will get his baggage to his quarters. The information Rodney needs comes through almost immediately, and he quickly skims all the mission reports he hasn’t seen for the last few weeks for anything of importance.
He should have known that something had gone wrong when John didn’t email after that first time. Even when they’d been kicked off Atlantis, John had kept in contact; he had called or emailed frequently-pretty much before every mission, and then afterwards to let Rodney know he was alive. After the first week of radio silence this time, Rodney should have known that something was wrong. He should have called the SGC and harangued Landry until he had answers.
Rodney is good at pestering people until he gets what he wants, and he should have used that.
It’s just that John had been distant in the weeks preceding Rodney’s departure, and Rodney had assumed-wrongly, it seemed-that their friendship had been ending. Rodney hadn’t managed to keep a friend for any length of time, so he hadn’t known what to expect, or what to think, or how to respond.
Zelenka pokes his head into Rodney’s lab a few hours after Rodney’s arrival. “Have you had a chance to review my report?”
“Yes, yes,” Rodney replies impatiently, waving him inside. “But there are some holes in your data.”
“There are no holes,” Zelenka protests. “I have given you all the data I collected.”
“So you say,” Rodney shoots back. “You have a list of gate addresses, but none of them have panned out?”
“We believe they transported Colonel Sheppard to several successive worlds before staying wherever they happen to be,” Zelenka replies. “Teyla and Ronon have visited many possibilities, but they have found no trace.”
Rodney believes himself to be smarter than pretty much anyone on Atlantis, but even he has to admit that there’s only so much to be done, only so many ways to search, when they’re up against someone like Michael, who knows how to work the gate network.
“Let’s go over this again,” Rodney says. “I want to know everything.”
By the time they’ve gone over all the possibilities, and all the planets that Teyla and Ronon have visited in the last few weeks, Rodney has his doubts they’ll be successful. He has no idea how he’s supposed to locate John when there are literally hundreds of planets to search.
And even if John is on one of those planets, Michael could have taken him miles from the gate, making it next to impossible to locate him.
“What about the Daedalus?” Rodney asks. “Colonel Sheppard has one of the new subcutaneous transmitters.”
“But which planet should they scan?” Zelenka counters. “If we can narrow down the options, perhaps the Daedalus could scan the planet. Even if we had six planets. We have hundreds.”
Rodney scrubs his hands over his face. “There has to be a way to narrow it down.”
“When Teyla and Ronon find a trace, we will begin to pick up a trail,” Zelenka replies.
Rodney thinks about the endless possibilities, and he can’t help but wonder if they might have been able to narrow down the potential planets if only he’d been contacted sooner. “Why didn’t you email me?”
Zelenka shakes his head. “Mr. Woolsey asked us not to.”
Rodney scowls, but he’s not sure what he would have done differently under the circumstances. He’s fairly certain that Woolsey’s orders, combined with Rodney’s likely ire for losing John, resulted in silence about Sheppard’s disappearance.
He looks up when the door opens, feeling a sense of relief when Teyla and Ronon enter the lab. He’s not sure they have any more answers than he does, but they’re his team, and he’s missed them.
Not as much as he’s missed John, but he’s missed them.
“Rodney,” Teyla says, putting her hands on his shoulders and touching her forehead to his. “It is good to see you.”
Rodney puts his hands on her shoulders, feeling the warmth of her skin under his hands, smelling slightly spicy Athosian soap and sweat. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“McKay,” Ronon says, clapping Rodney on the shoulder with a huge hand. If Rodney had been standing, he probably would have staggered.
“Do you have any additional information?” Rodney asks hopefully. “I’ve gone over everything that Zelenka has, but it’s not enough.”
Teyla nods. “Actually, yes. We found a witness who saw someone matching Michael’s description come through the gate, and we pulled all of the dialed gate addresses from the DHD on that planet.”
As far as Rodney can tell, it’s the first real lead they’ve had. “Let’s see it.”
Zelenka has already set up a branched diagram, listing all the potential gate addresses from the world where John had first gone missing, as well as the possible planets where he’d been taken, and the addresses that had been crossed off the list. It’s disheartening to realize that even with this lead-which Teyla deems legitimate-they could be searching possible planets for months.
“Do we have an educated guess?” Rodney asks. “Are there any addresses we can cross off?”
Teyla shakes her head. “There are addresses that the people of that world visit frequently, but if Michael is clever, he’ll use that to his advantage.”
“How many addresses did Michael go through to get to that planet?” Rodney counters.
“Four,” Ronon says.
Rodney nods. “He’d be getting careless by this point, and we have to continue searching. I’m not saying that we cross those addresses off the list. I’m saying that we start our search on the planets where the natives don’t have reason to go.”
Ronon points at four addresses out of the ten. “Those are regular trading worlds.”
“What do you know about the other six?” Rodney asks.
Teyla studies the addresses. “Two of them have well-known markets. If Michael went to those worlds, he would have to leave again almost immediately, and he would risk being seen. The other four addresses I do not recognize.”
“Then we start with those four worlds,” Rodney says. “How soon can we leave?”
~~~~~
The search is frustrating and tedious. Every planet they visit, they have to coax people into volunteering information with Teyla’s tact, or intimidate them into talking through Ronon’s quiet menace. Rodney can’t offer much-he’s not good with people, and he’s not very scary unless he has a nuke at his disposal.
Of course, other than the Genii, no one in this galaxy even knows what a nuke is, so Rodney is probably never going to be scary.
Rodney feels helpless. His intelligence doesn’t help under these circumstances; it just lets him imagine all the things that Michael might be doing to John. He hasn’t felt this powerless since Jeanie had been injected with the nanites, and John had talked Wallace into sacrificing himself to save her.
Slowly but surely, as the days go by, they cross off potential gate addresses, until they’ve narrowed their options to three. Unfortunately, the Daedalus is two weeks out when they get the information, so they can’t just ask Caldwell to scan the possible planets for John’s transmitter. Instead, they have to visit each planet and do what they can to isolate the locations John might be held.
Rodney retrofits one of the Jumpers so that it will scan for John, and he has to make sure that they can conduct the scans while under cloak, so that Michael won’t be able to detect the Jumper while they’re there.
Thankfully, Zelenka had been doing Rodney’s job as well as his own while Rodney had been on Earth, and he continues to pick up the slack without a word of protest.
Considering how often Zelenka protests jobs he doesn’t like, Rodney knows Zelenka wants Sheppard back as much as he does.
Well, maybe not quite as much as Rodney does, but Rodney appreciates the support, and he trusts Zelenka nearly as much as he trusts his team.
“I’d like to check all three,” Rodney tells Woolsey. “And I don’t want to come back to Atlantis in between.”
“And if you need assistance?” Woolsey counters.
“Then we’ll call,” Rodney replies. He doesn’t add, “If we can afford to wait,” but he thinks that’s probably understood.
For a moment, Rodney is certain that Woolsey will deny his request, although that’s not going to stop him. If he has to, Rodney will steal a Jumper, and he knows Ronon and Teyla will be happy to go along for the ride.
“I’ll allow it,” Woolsey finally says. “But I expect regular updates, and I expect you to call for help if you find Sheppard-if at all possible.”
Rodney can promise that much, and he calls Ronon and Teyla as he leaves Woolsey’s office. “We have a go,” he announces. “Let’s get packing.”
The whole city seems to be in cahoots to get them on their way, although Rodney has no idea whether that’s because they want him off the city, or whether it’s because they want John back.
Not that the why matters. The point is that they aren’t coming back to Atlantis until they’ve got John.
At least, that’s Rodney’s intention. He knows well enough that they might not have a choice; if they run up against too many obstacles, they’ll have to come back to Atlantis to regroup.
Rodney doesn’t plan on running into that many obstacles.
They pack the back of the Jumper with boxes of MREs and medical supplies, and Lorne shows up about halfway through.
“What are you doing here?” Rodney asks suspiciously.
“I’m here to pilot your Jumper,” Lorne replies with a smile.
Rodney frowns. “I thought you were in charge with John gone.”
“Yeah, I’m a little tired of being in charge,” Lorne replies cheerfully. “And I think you’re going to find Sheppard, so I’m bringing along a friend or two.”
Rodney wants to refuse Lorne’s company, if only because he doesn’t plan on returning to Atlantis without John, but he’s not one to turn down help, not when he’s sure that they’ll find John on one of the three planets.
And they can use the backup. No matter how awesome Ronon and Teyla are, they can always use the extra firepower if they do find John.
“All right,” Rodney says magnanimously. “But you’ll have to keep up.”
Lorne grins. “No problem.”
Lorne’s “friend or two” turns out to be one huge Marine by the name of Sergeant Dawkins. He’s well over six feet, probably weighs 300 pounds, and his P-90 is dwarfed in his hands.
Rodney sits in the co-pilot’s chair, while Ronon and Teyla take up the seats behind him and Lorne, leaving Dawkins to sit in the back, stretching his lets out in front of him and taking up half the bench.
As Lorne lines the jumper up with the gate, Rodney hears Woolsey’s voice over their radios. “Be careful, and good luck,” he says.
Rodney lets Lorne reply with a quiet, “Thank you, sir.”
They go through the gate with the cloak on, and Lorne takes them up into orbit to better scan the planet. The scan takes several hours, and Rodney busies himself with his laptop, wanting the distraction.
Rodney knows that a few hours aren’t going to make a lot of difference; John’s been missing for weeks now, and this is time they have to spend.
Still, Rodney will be happier if he doesn’t have to think about the lost hours, and there’s plenty of work he can do to stay busy.
“No dice,” Lorne announces when the scan finishes. “I guess we’re on to the next planet.”
Rodney sighs. “How much do you want to bet it will be the last one?”
Lorne shakes his head. “I’m not taking that bet, and as long as Sheppard’s on one of those planets, I’m not going to complain.”
Teyla murmurs her agreement, and Rodney can’t disagree.
~~~~~
It’s always the same when Michael’s goons come. As soon as John hears the door rattle, John sends Timos to the corner of the room in the hope that the guards will overlook the boy. That tactic works just often enough that John can’t give up trying, even though he knows it’s probably just Michael fucking with him.
He fights them, but more out of habit than any hope of success.
After the last attempt, John has no desire to truly try to escape unless he has a guarantee of success.
John meets Timos’ eyes as the guards drag him out, and Timos nods silently, indicating that he’ll be strong.
John goes limp in the guards’ hands and lets them drag him away, and he submits to the testing without protest. They strap him down in the chair, and Michael enters the lab with a smile. “Ah, Colonel Sheppard. It’s so good to see you again.”
“You know, if you’d leave more time in between visits, you might have time to miss me,” John quips.
Michael smiles. “That’s not how this works, Sheppard. I conduct tests, we wait for the results, and then you come back for more tests. It’s simple.”
“Simple,” John echoes, but he doesn’t try to argue. He’s not sure whether their experiments drove Michael crazy, or if they’d just moved Michael along the continuum, but John feels a certain responsibility.
If not for John’s decision, Michael never would have been put in this position; he would have been just another Wraith, who would have lived or died after attacking Atlantis or its people.
If not for John, Timos would have had a normal childhood-or at least what passed for normal in the Pegasus galaxy.
John is never completely certain how much of what Michael does is necessary for whatever he’s trying to accomplish, and how much is just payback. He’s not sure he wants to know-his only aim is survival.
Today is one of the better days; Michael and his goons take seemingly endless samples of blood, and then inject John with something that makes him woozy. John’s so out of it that he doesn’t notice the commotion outside the door until Michael holds up a hand.
“What is that?” Michael demands, following two of his creatures out, but leaving the other two with John.
John knows the guards are superfluous. Timos is still locked away, which means that John’s not willing to risk another escape attempt.
In his haze, John can hear gunfire and what sounds like an explosion. He struggles weakly against the straps holding him in place, knowing that it’s futile but unable to help himself.
The door bursts open, and John freezes when he sees Ronon enter the room, his blaster out, and he drops the two creatures immediately.
John can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. He’s dreamed of this moment for so long, he can’t take it in right now.
Rodney and Teyla are right behind him, and they rush over to loosen the straps holding John down.
John swallows thickly. “Rodney? Teyla?”
“We’re getting you out of here,” Rodney promises.
John shakes his head, his mind still fuzzy. “No, we can’t leave.”
“He’s delirious,” Rodney says, hauling John out of the chair.
Panic rises up to choke John, and he tries to pull free. All he can think about is Timos, because if the guards get to Timos before John can-
John can’t leave Timos behind. He’d promised they would leave together or not at all. He shakes Rodney and Teyla off and nearly falls to his knees, but Ronon catches him.
“No!” John protests. “We can’t leave him!”
Teyla steps in front of him and grabs his face between her hands. “John. John! Who must we not leave behind?”
“Timos,” John replies, blinking at her.
“Where is he?” Teyla asks gently.
John shakes his head, trying to clear it, feeling Ronon’s strong hands still holding him up. “In the room.”
“That’s not helpful!” Rodney says from behind him.
“Do you know where he is?” Teyla asks.
John nods. “I know the way.”
“C’mon,” Ronon grunts, shifting John’s weight. Ronon puts his left arm around John’s waist, his blaster still held in his right hand. “Point the way.”
Lorne stands in the hallway, P-90 in his hands. “Good to see you again, sir.”
John gapes at him, trying to order his thoughts, but they’re so jumbled he can’t grasp anything other than the need to get to Timos.
And he’s unarmed, and Michael is out there somewhere.
“Michael?” John asks hoarsely.
“We haven’t seen him,” Teyla confirms.
John shakes his head again. “I need a gun.”
Lorne frowns. “I’m not sure-”
Rodney moves in between them, cutting Lorne off. “John, your hands aren’t steady right now. What if you fired and hit Timos?”
“You’re right,” John mutters, knowing that he’s not thinking clearly. He glances up at Ronon. “You’ll protect him?”
“’Course I will,” Ronon says. “Which way?”
John points in the right direction, grateful that he can find his way back to the room in his sleep. He’s unsteady, but capable of walking with Ronon’s assistance, which is better than some Test Days, when he has to be carried back.
Lorne and Teyla guard the rear, and Rodney and Ronon keep their guns trained in front of them, and as they turn into the hallway where the cell is, John sees Michael holding Timos in front of his chest as a human shield.
“What will you trade for the boy?” Michael demands, a cruel smile curving his lips. “How about you give me McKay?”
Rodney takes half a step back, although his P-90 is still trained on Michael, and John doesn’t think. Or if he does think, it’s about the last two months, and how Michael needs to be put down like a rabid dog, and how John hates him with every fiber of his being.
If he thinks at all, it’s about Timos’ screams as he was punished for John’s last escape attempt.
In one easy movement, John reaches forward, pulls Rodney’s gun out of the thigh holster, and drills Michael between his eyes.
Michael’s body falls backwards, and Timos falls with him, although the boy quickly pulls free and launches himself at John.
The force of Timos’ body hitting him knocks John back on his ass, but he doesn’t care. Timos’ warm breath puffs on John’s neck, and he says, “Okay, it’s okay, buddy. These are my friends. This is my family. It’s Rodney, and Ronon, and Teyla.”
“We have to go, sir,” Lorne says nervously. “There are more of those creatures around.”
John wants to carry Timos out, but the sudden rush of adrenalin, mixed with the drugs in his system, has left him lightheaded and dizzy. “Will you let Rodney carry you?” he asked, glancing up to see Rodney staring at them with his mouth open.
“Okay,” Timos says softly.
John pleads with Rodney silently, willing him to be okay with this, even though Rodney has never shown much interest in children in the past.
Rodney surprises him, though, because he says, “Hey, buddy. You mind if I carry you?”
John’s stories must have been good for something, because Timos unwraps himself from around John and goes willingly to Rodney, who picks him up and settles him on one hip. “We’d better go,” Rodney says matter-of-factly.
Ronon gives John a hand up and takes most of John’s weight again.
“We’ve got a jumper just outside,” Lorne says from behind John.
Teyla takes point now, providing some cover for Rodney and Timos. John wants to offer help, but it’s all he can do to keep hold of the gun he’d snagged from Rodney, and put one foot in front of the other.
Halfway down the hallway, they’re met by Sergeant Dawkins, whom John vaguely remembers.
Dawkins smiles. “Good to see you, Colonel.”
John manages to nod, and then they’re out of the complex, under a slate-gray sky, and the jumper shimmers to life in front of them.
He hears Timos’ gasp of amazement, and then they’re up the ramp, and Ronon is setting John down gently on one of the benches.
Rodney puts Timos down, and as soon as John is settled, Timos is in John’s lap, huddling close, hiding his face in John’s neck-and no wonder. Timos has seen no one but John and Michael and Michael’s creatures for as long as Timos can remember.
“Do you need any immediate medical attention?” Teyla asks.
John shakes his head. “Nothing that won’t wait until we get to Atlantis.”
Timos whimpers a little as the jumper lifts off, and John shushes him quietly. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’re just taking off. I told you about it, remember?”
Timos won’t look up, keeping his face pressed to John’s neck, and John can sympathize. There have been plenty of times in the last couple of months where he’s wanted to shut his eyes and wish the world away.
“Hey, you want to look out the view screen?” John asks quietly. “You can see outside.”
Timos looks up uncertainly. “Outside?”
John shifts Timos with a grunt, ignoring the looks from the others, moving so that Timos can look through the view screen without loosening his grip on John.
Timos’ eyes go wide, and he says, “Oh.”
That small noise tugs at John’s heart. When he’d asked Timos what he remembered of the time before, Timos had been able to tell John nothing other than his name. John can’t blame the kid; being Michael’s guinea pig had been plenty traumatic for John, and he at least had some experience with torture.
Timos pulls away from John slightly, the better to see, and John smiles. Timos’ curiosity is bigger than his fear, and Lorne glances over his shoulder at the boy. “Do you want to come closer?”
Timos shakes his head, one hand still on John’s knee, his eyes focused on the world outside. He makes a small sound of alarm as the gate whooshes to life in front of them and backs up into John again.
“It’s okay,” John soothes. “That’s the gate. Remember?”
“I remember,” Timos whispers. He keeps his eyes on the window as they fly into Atlantis.
Lorne calls for medical, and John says, “I’ll take Timos to the infirmary.”
Rodney frowns at him. “You can barely move under your own steam.”
“I think it would be better,” John insists, glancing at Timos. “Please, Rodney.”
Rodney’s shoulders slump. “Fine, you win. I’ll tell Carson.”
“Perhaps Timos would like to walk with me,” Teyla says with a gentle smile.
Timos looks up at John uncertainly.
“It’s okay, buddy,” John assures him. “I’m just a little dizzy.”
Since that’s a common aftereffect of a session with Michael, Timos accepts John’s explanation without question.
Keller has two gurneys waiting, along with what looks like half the medical staff. Timos balks in the face of all those people, and a glance at his face tells John that the boy is terrified. Everybody seems to be talking all at once, and John wants to answer their questions-actually, he wants to tell them all to shut up and speak one at a time-but Timos comes first.
John pulls free of Ronon’s grasp and kneels in front of Timos, tilting Timos’ chin so that their eyes met. “Hey,” John says quietly. “I know there are a lot of people here, Timos, but they’re friends of mine. Remember? I told you they’d come for us.”
A little sense came back into his eyes, and he nods.
Sometimes, the kid’s bravery just blows John away.
“Colonel Sheppard?” Keller calls.
“I can walk, and so can Timos,” John replies. He’s a little steadier on his feet now, and while he’s not up to carrying the kid, he’s not about to be strapped down, and he won’t allow them to do that to Timos either.
Timos would probably go out of his mind if they tried.
“Colonel Sheppard.”
John glances up at Woolsey. “I’m okay,” he insists. “But where we’ve been-the gurneys aren’t a good idea.”
“Mr. Woolsey, Dr. Keller, we can get John and Timos to the infirmary,” Teyla says softly. “Timos?” She holds out a hand.
Timos hesitates for a moment, and then gulps and slips his hand in hers. John lets out a deep sigh, and then Rodney pulls him to his feet and puts an arm around John’s waist.
“Well, don’t all stand there gawking!” Rodney snaps. “Get a move on!”
John smiles for the first time in a long time, and believes he’s really home.
~~~~~
Although Rodney has very little experience with children, even he can see Timos’ abject terror when they enter the infirmary. Timos’ steps turn jerky and uncertain, and he pulls away from Teyla to press against John’s leg; he stops cold about ten paces into the room.
John sways on his feet, but he manages to kneel next to Timos with Rodney’s help. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “No one is going to hurt you here, and I’ll be right by you the whole time.”
Jennifer squats down in front of both of them. “Hey, my name is Jennifer,” she says with a smile. “What’s yours?”
“Timos,” he manages to whisper.
“I like that name,” Jennifer replies, her voice low and conspiratorial. “And I need your help.”
Some of the fear leaves Timos’ face. “My help?”
“Colonel Sheppard is hurt, and I need you to keep him calm for me,” Jennifer whispers. “I want to make him feel better.”
Timos glances up at John, a skeptical expression on his face. “Really?”
“On Atlantis, doctors help you feel better,” John confirms. “And Jennifer is right. I never liked going to the doctor.”
Timos squares his thin shoulders. “Okay.”
“Great!” Jennifer replies. “How about you sit next to John on one of the beds? I’ll bet he’ll feel better that way.”
Timos still appears wary, but he nods, and Rodney helps John to his feet and over to the nearest bed. It’s too high for Timos to clamber up, but Ronon has shadowed them to the infirmary, and he picks Timos up and sets him next to John.
“All right,” Jennifer says. “Why don’t you guys take a break? I’ll let you know when Colonel Sheppard is ready for visitors.”
Rodney glances at Teyla and Ronon, and they both nod, and then turn to leave. Rodney insists, “I’m staying.”
Jennifer sighs. “Fine. But you’ll have to stay out of my way.”
Rodney takes a step back, his hands raised. “I understand.”
When he looks over his shoulder, he can see Woolsey in the doorway of the infirmary talking with Teyla and Ronon, and he’s grateful to be this close to John. Curiosity has him turning his attention to Timos, since Jennifer is bustling around John-probably because she’s decided he’s the more pressing concern.
He has no idea how old the boy is-maybe a year or two older than Madison, based on his size, although given John’s condition, Timos’ growth might have been stunted by poor nutrition. Timos’ hair is long and dark, but it sticks up in back. His eyes are a clear, greenish hazel, and when he brushes his hair back, Rodney catches sight of a slightly pointed ear.
Rodney blinks, and realizes that he can see the shadow of the man in the boy-but that’s impossible.
“How old are you, Timos?” Jennifer asks.
Timos shoots a panicked glance at John.
“He doesn’t remember,” John replies wearily. “He doesn’t remember anything other than his name.”
Jennifer offers Timos a reassuring smile. “No problem. If you want my expert opinion, I’d guess about seven, and you can pick your own birthday.”
“Birthday?” Timos echoes.
“Sure, the day everybody else celebrates when you’re born,” Jennifer replies, looking into John’s ears. “There’s usually cake.”
Timos frowns. “What’s cake?”
Jennifer grins brightly. “Just you wait. I’ll make sure the cooks make a cake soon.”
“I like pie better,” John replies.
Timos glances up at him. “Is it good?”
“It’s great, buddy,” John assures him, his tone tender. “You just wait. You’ll get to try anything you want.”
“I’m going to take some blood, Colonel,” Jennifer says. “I know that’s probably the last thing you want right now, but I need to know what’s in your system.”
John nods. “Watch, Timos,” he says. “There’s a pinch, but that’s it. She’s going to need to do the same for you, just to make sure you’re okay.”
Timos nods seriously, and Rodney realizes that Jennifer had chosen to run tests on John first just to prove to Timos that he wouldn’t be harmed.
“How do you feel, Colonel?” Jennifer asks. “And I want an honest answer.”
“Tired, hungry, and still a little dizzy,” John admits. “But I feel a lot better right now than I have in a while.”
There’s the ring of truth in John’s words, and Rodney wonders how bad it had been. Normally, John won’t admit to even mild discomfort, so to have him say that much-and yet insist that this had been a good day-sets alarm bells off.
“Timos? How do you feel?” Jennifer asks.
Timos glances at John, and then admits, “Hungry. A little sore.”
“Where are you sore?” she asks gently.
“All over,” he admits in a whisper.
John puts an arm around Timos’ thin, narrow shoulders and whispers, “Good job.”
And Rodney realizes that one of the reasons John had been honest about his physical condition is that he wants to encourage Timos to do the same.
He feels a sharp sense of loss then, knowing he’ll never have his friend back-at least, he’ll never have John as he was before being taken by Michael. Rodney had believed he could go off for a month on Earth, lecturing at various colleges and preparing the way for declassification if it ever came, and he would come back to Atlantis and find John-and the rest of his team-just as he’d left them.
Instead, he’d come back to find John missing, and in getting John back, Rodney is now faced with the realization that everything has changed. John’s sense of duty is more finely developed than just about anyone else Rodney has ever known, and for the last two months, Timos has been the center of John’s world.
Rescue hasn’t altered that truth.
Timos is sagging against John by the time Jennifer finishes her tests, clearly exhausted and yet unwilling to sleep.
“I want to keep you both in the infirmary overnight,” Jennifer says.
John shakes his head. “No, no way. No offense, doc, but neither of us is going to be able to sleep in the middle of all this medical equipment. If you think we’re in danger, maybe, but otherwise-”
“You’re not in danger that I can tell,” Jennifer admits, her mouth twisting unhappily. “But I’d feel better if-”
“My quarters,” Rodney blurts out.
From the way John looks at him, Rodney guesses that he’s forgotten Rodney’s still in the infirmary, but his shoulders slump in relief. “You don’t mind?”
“I’ll stay up,” Rodney promises. He’s missed so much sleep already that another night won’t make much difference. “And my quarters are larger.”
“We’re used to sleeping on the floor,” John says, and the way he says it makes Rodney think that they’re probably used to sharing close quarters.
He wishes he could have seen the room where they’d kept John; maybe Rodney would have a better idea of what John had faced.
“I don’t know,” Jennifer says uncertainly.
“Timos isn’t going to be comfortable here,” John insists. “Please.”
“If someone stays with you,” Jennifer says reluctantly.
“Someone will be awake the entire time,” Rodney promises. “Ronon and Teyla will each take a watch,” he adds, knowing that John will balk if he thinks Rodney is going to stay awake all night.
The smile that tilts John’s lips is sincere. “Thanks, McKay.”
Rodney suspects that there’s more to it than that. He suspects they’ve only scratched the surface of all the fucked up things that Michael had done to John and the boy.
And he wishes he’d fought harder; he wishes he could have seen into the future so he could have prevented all of this.
~~~~~
John wakes slowly, feeling the soft mattress under him, and the warm blanket over him. He can smell the salt of the sea, and he feels the warmth of the sun streaming into the room that tells him the balcony is open to the elements. He’s grateful for it, because it’s one more reminder that the prior day had not been a dream.
As usual, Timos is curled up next to him, but when John opens his eyes, all he can see is a lump in the covers, since Timos has burrowed underneath. Ronon sits in Rodney’s desk chair, long legs stretched out in front of him, blaster unholstered in his lap.
John knows the precaution isn’t necessary-Michael is dead, after all, and they’re safe on Atlantis-but he appreciates it.
Michael is dead, he thinks, relief and emptiness following in the wake of that thought. Killing Michael hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as he’d hoped; the fantasies he’d harbored over the last few months had been better.
John should know by now that revenge is never quite as satisfying as expected.
He meets Ronon’s eyes and asks, “Where’s Rodney?”
“Sleeping in your quarters,” Ronon replies. “Feeling better?”
“Better is relative.” John nudges Timos. “Hey, buddy.”
Timos shifts slightly but refuses to move otherwise, and John shrugs. If Timos wants to sleep late, John isn’t going to make him get up.
“I need to get some clean clothes,” John says.
Ronon jerks his chin at a pile of clothes. “Already done.”
“Keep an eye on Timos?”
“No problem.”
John doesn’t remember the last time he’s been able to take a shower with unlimited hot water. He uses Rodney’s shampoo and soap, but he doesn’t bother with a razor, even though he knows he needs to get rid of the beard.
By the time he emerges from the bathroom, Timos is awake, and Ronon has somehow coaxed him into perching on Rodney’s desk as Ronon points out the various parts of his blaster.
“John!” Timos exclaims. “Have you seen it before?”
“Sure,” John replies with a smile. “But I think you’re the first person Ronon has explained how it works to.”
Timos glances at Ronon. “Really?”
“You listen,” Ronon explains briefly.
“He’s a great listener,” John says. “You want to get cleaned up before breakfast?”
Timos shrugs. “I guess.”
The kid has never been terribly interested in personal hygiene, and John usually had to insist that Timos get a sketchy wash in the little water provided. Still, someone had arranged for clean clothing, maybe from the Athosians, and John says, “Come on, kid. The hot water will feel good, I promise.”
Timos heaves a sigh and hops off the desk. “Okay.”
Ronon grins, and John has to work to hide his smile. For once, Timos sounds and acts just like any other kid.
“Let me show you how it works,” John says. “Then you clean up on your own.”
“Doesn’t the water work when you think about it?” Timos asks innocently.
John blinks. “Yeah, it does. How did you know?”
“I hear something in my mind,” Timos replies. “I just knew.”
“Okay, then,” John replies slowly. “Be careful about the temperature.”
Timos shrugs. “I will.”
“I’ll be right outside,” John promises.
“Can I leave the door open?” Timos asks anxiously.
John smiles. “Just ask Atlantis,” he replies and steps outside.
The door slides halfway closed behind John, and then stops.
John isn’t sure what it means that Timos has the gene-and a strong one at that. He’s not sure he wants to know.
“He looks like you,” Ronon says quietly when John sits down on the edge of Rodney’s bed.
John frowns. “No, he doesn’t.”
Ronon shrugs in such a way that suggests he’s not going to change his mind, but he’s not willing to argue about it.
John’s still tired, and he stretches out on Rodney’s bed while waiting for Timos to finish up. Timos takes his time, and John smiles. Apparently, Timos has discovered the joys of hot water.
Timos emerges fully dressed, in clothing that’s a little too big. He nearly trips on his too-long trousers, and John kneels down to roll up the cuffs on the trousers and then does the same for the shirt.
These clothes were a change from Timos’ old ones, which had ended an inch above the kid’s wrists and ankles and were filthy besides.
“Lookin’ good, kiddo,” John says. “You hungry?”
Timos nods. “Is it okay to go out?”
“Yeah, it is,” John replies. “But maybe you shouldn’t wander around without me, or Ronon, Teyla, or Rodney, okay? Especially since you can talk to the city. It’s really important that you’re safe.”
Timos nods. “Okay, John.”
“Good boy,” John says. “Now, let’s get something to eat.”
Luckily, it’s late enough when they enter the mess that it’s not as full as it could be. As it is, Timos nearly runs in the opposite direction when he sees the two-dozen people who are eating or in line.
John responds to Timos’ panic by picking him up and settling him on one hip, since he’s steady enough to manage it. “These folks are friends,” John insists quietly. “No one’s going to hurt you here.”
Timos presses his face into the side of John’s neck.
“You still want to eat?” John asks.
Timos nods against him.
“Okay, let’s see what we can find, then.”
With Ronon’s help, John fills a tray with enough food for the two of them and finds a table in the corner. He sets Timos down but doesn’t complain when Timos presses in close.
“What is this?” Timos asks in a whisper, pointing to the scrambled eggs.
“Eggs,” John explains. “Go ahead and try them.”
Timos doesn’t bother with the utensils, picking the eggs up in his fingers and shoving them in his mouth.
John points out the other items on the tray. “Toast and apples.”
Timos grunts and applies himself to his food with a single-minded purpose.
“Go slow,” John advises him. “You’ll be sick otherwise.”
Ronon is devouring his breakfast with the same focus, and John shrugs, figuring that he can teach Timos table manners later.
Teyla and Rodney join them shortly, just about the time that Timos starts slowing down. John is grateful that he hadn’t filled Timos’ plate, and he wonders if the kid will start growing now that he has access to normal portions.
Then again, John has no idea how much Timos’ growth has been stunted, if at all. If he has to guess, Keller is probably right about him being around seven, although John isn’t an expert.
“Mr. Woolsey wants to meet with you in an hour,” Teyla says. “I can stay with Timos if you would prefer to give your report alone.”
Timos glances up in alarm. “John, no!”
“I think Timos wants to stay with me,” John says evenly. “But thank you.”
No one argues with John, and he’s grateful to avoid conflict with his team. With the three of them riding interference, he’s pretty sure that Woolsey won’t press too hard to keep Timos out of the meeting.
John doesn’t think that Timos is going to tolerate being out of his general vicinity for the near future. There had been far too many days when John had been pulled out of their cell on Test Days, only to return weak and shaky and sick.
If their positions had been reversed, John is fairly certain that he’d feel the same way. And, in fact, John’s not entirely willing to let Timos out of his sight either. He trusts the people on Atlantis, but he wants to keep Timos close.
Timos is John’s responsibility; John fell down on the job once, but he won’t let it happen again.
And John knows Timos well enough to know that in another hour or so, he’ll be deeply asleep with a full meal in his belly.
“Has Jennifer said anything about when you’ll be cleared for duty?” Rodney asks.
John shakes his head. “No, but she’s probably waiting until I get cleared by the psychiatrist.”
“What’s that?” Timos asks.
John thinks it’s a good sign that Timos is comfortable enough to ask questions with his team around. “It’s a doctor for your head,” John explains. “The inside of your head.”
Timos frowns. “Why would you need one of those?”
John wonders sometimes whether Timos will be scarred by his time in Michael’s prison or, since he can’t remember anything that came before, it will eventually become a set of hazy, unpleasant memories that have no bearing on his life after their escape.
He glances at his team, hoping for help, but Teyla and Ronon have never exactly seen the point of psychology-although Teyla had liked Kate Heightmeyer quite a bit, if John remembered correctly-but Ronon had never liked talking about his feelings. And, while Rodney had appreciated having a captive audience, he viewed psychology and other kinds of medicine as little better than voodoo.
John hasn’t done more than exchange a few words with the current psychologist on Atlantis, a Dr. Murphy. John knows the man had come highly recommended, and that he’d served as psychiatrist on a couple of different bases, treating men and women home from half a dozen conflicts. He has no idea if the guy has any experience with kids, though.
But all of that aside, John has no idea how to explain why people might need a doctor for the inside of their heads.
“They listen to you talk about things that upset you,” John explains awkwardly. “Sometimes it helps.”
Timos doesn’t seem to be appeased. “Why wouldn’t I talk to you?”
Everyone around the table smiles, and John says, “That’s a good question, buddy. I guess the answer is that a doctor like that has experience with other people who have had bad things happen to them.”
Timos wrinkles his nose. “Michael hurt other people?”
“He hurt me and my people,” Teyla replies gently. “Did John tell you about that?”
John hadn’t, mostly because he’d spent so long looking for the Athosians, and then for Teyla, and he’d wanted to tell Timos stories about triumph, or funny events. The Athosians had lost a lot of people to Michael’s depredations, and every person lost had felt like a failure on John’s part.
Timos shakes his head. “No. Did you escape?”
“John helped rescue me,” Teyla replies diplomatically. “Me, and my son.”
Timos perks up at that. “Torren? Your baby?”
Timos had been fascinated by John’s few stories of the baby, maybe because he can’t remember anything before Michael’s lab, and he has no idea who his mother is.
“Yes,” Teyla replies. “He’s with his father now, and with my people, but he’ll be returning to Atlantis soon. You’ll meet him then.”
Timos’ face lights up. “Cool!”
Rodney shoots John a dirty look. “I see you’ve already taught him deficient language skills.”
“What’s wrong with me?” Timos asks anxiously.
John glares at Rodney, as does Teyla, and Rodney holds his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean it,” Rodney says. “I’m just saying there are better words than ‘cool.’”
“Like what?” Timos asks.
John grins when Rodney sputters at the question, and Ronon snickers audibly. Teyla somehow manages to keep a straight face. “I believe what Rodney means to say is that there are many ways to express the same sentiment. Knowing them all will allow you to more accurately express yourself.”
Timos frowns. “So, I could say awesome?”
“You could,” Rodney allows. “But there are a lot of other words, too.”
“Like what?” Timos presses.
Rodney frowns. “For that, you’d need a linguist.”
“What’s a linguist?”
Even Teyla chuckles at that question, and Rodney unbends enough to smile. “You don’t run out of questions, do you?” Rodney asks.
Timos ducks his head. “Is that bad?”
“No, it’s good!” Rodney hastens to assure him. “How can you learn anything if you don’t ask questions? I asked a lot of questions when I was your age.”
The funny thing is, John can remember being that curious, too. His father had been impatient, and his mom had answered as best she could, but it had been the stable master who had been most receptive.
That might have had something to do with John’s love of horses-that, and the sense of flying when he’d been on the back of his favorite mare.
Timos smiles and presses close to John. “You don’t mind?”
“Ask me anything you like,” Rodney replies magnanimously, and John knows what that concession means. He’s not really sure how to take it.
Timos nods, unwilling to take McKay up on his offer right away.
“We have the meeting,” Teyla says quietly.
John glances down at Timos. “Sorry, buddy, but this is probably going to be pretty boring. You up for it?”
“Can I sleep?” Timos asks.
“As much as you want,” John promises.
Timos smiles sweetly. “Okay.”
John smiles in return. “Let’s see what Mr. Woolsey has to say, huh?”
In reality, though, John doesn’t give a rat’s ass what Woolsey says. Timos is his, in every way that matters, and John is going to keep Timos with him, no matter what he has to do.
He just hopes his team is on board.
Part II
The moment Rodney steps through the wormhole and into Atlantis’ familiar gate room, he knows something is wrong. For one thing, John’s conspicuously absent; for another, Woolsey’s there, wearing an even grimmer expression than usual.
“What happened?” Rodney demands as the uneasiness of the last few weeks blossoms into full-blown worry.
“Let’s talk in my office,” Woolsey replies, which does nothing to ease Rodney’s mind.
He wants to demand answers right there, but he knows Woolsey well enough by now to understand he won’t get results that way. So, Rodney just nods and follows him up to the office.
If it weren’t for John’s absence, Rodney would probably comment on how the city can’t function without him, but the truth is that it takes both of them-him and John-to keep things running smoothly.
And Rodney had heard from John just once while he’d been on Earth, at the beginning of his trip.
“What’s going on?” he demands as soon as the door slides shut behind him.
Woolsey steeples his hands in front of his face. “We seem to have lost Colonel Sheppard.”
“What?” Rodney demands before he thinks better of the question. “Where are Teyla and Ronon?”
“They’re fine,” Woolsey assures him. “Teyla thought she might have a lead, so she and Ronon are off-world right now.”
Rodney thinks of the last month he’s spent on Earth, in cushy hotel rooms, giving speeches to undergrads who have no idea what it’s like to go through the gate and risk their lives-students who think sacrifice means giving up a few nights of sleep to meet a deadline.
“What happened?” Rodney asks brusquely.
Woolsey sighs. “We had word that Michael was interfering on a particular world, and Colonel Sheppard insisted on going. Teyla and Ronon were knocked unconscious, and Colonel Sheppard disappeared. By the time Zelenka had retrieved the gate addresses that had been dialed, they were long gone.”
“Why didn’t you let me know?” Rodney demands. “You could have called me back.”
“We thought we could find him,” Woolsey admits. “And you were doing important work on Earth to ease the way for declassification when that becomes a possibility.”
Rodney refrains from snarling by a sheer force of will. “How long has he been missing?”
“Four weeks,” Woolsey admits.
Rodney manages not to put his face in his hands. All he can think is that Woolsey and the rest are fucking idiots for failing to call him as soon as they’d lost John. “Do we know it was Michael?” Rodney asks.
“That’s the consensus,” Woolsey replies. “And the little information that Teyla and Ronon have been able to gather confirms it.”
Rodney takes a deep breath, holding on to his temper by reminding himself that yelling at Woolsey won’t do any good. “Tell Ronon and Teyla to find me as soon as they get back. And I want all the information you have on this situation.”
“I’ve already asked that it be sent to your email address here on the city,” Woolsey promises.
Rodney nods. “Great.”
He heads to his lab, trusting that John’s Marines will get his baggage to his quarters. The information Rodney needs comes through almost immediately, and he quickly skims all the mission reports he hasn’t seen for the last few weeks for anything of importance.
He should have known that something had gone wrong when John didn’t email after that first time. Even when they’d been kicked off Atlantis, John had kept in contact; he had called or emailed frequently-pretty much before every mission, and then afterwards to let Rodney know he was alive. After the first week of radio silence this time, Rodney should have known that something was wrong. He should have called the SGC and harangued Landry until he had answers.
Rodney is good at pestering people until he gets what he wants, and he should have used that.
It’s just that John had been distant in the weeks preceding Rodney’s departure, and Rodney had assumed-wrongly, it seemed-that their friendship had been ending. Rodney hadn’t managed to keep a friend for any length of time, so he hadn’t known what to expect, or what to think, or how to respond.
Zelenka pokes his head into Rodney’s lab a few hours after Rodney’s arrival. “Have you had a chance to review my report?”
“Yes, yes,” Rodney replies impatiently, waving him inside. “But there are some holes in your data.”
“There are no holes,” Zelenka protests. “I have given you all the data I collected.”
“So you say,” Rodney shoots back. “You have a list of gate addresses, but none of them have panned out?”
“We believe they transported Colonel Sheppard to several successive worlds before staying wherever they happen to be,” Zelenka replies. “Teyla and Ronon have visited many possibilities, but they have found no trace.”
Rodney believes himself to be smarter than pretty much anyone on Atlantis, but even he has to admit that there’s only so much to be done, only so many ways to search, when they’re up against someone like Michael, who knows how to work the gate network.
“Let’s go over this again,” Rodney says. “I want to know everything.”
By the time they’ve gone over all the possibilities, and all the planets that Teyla and Ronon have visited in the last few weeks, Rodney has his doubts they’ll be successful. He has no idea how he’s supposed to locate John when there are literally hundreds of planets to search.
And even if John is on one of those planets, Michael could have taken him miles from the gate, making it next to impossible to locate him.
“What about the Daedalus?” Rodney asks. “Colonel Sheppard has one of the new subcutaneous transmitters.”
“But which planet should they scan?” Zelenka counters. “If we can narrow down the options, perhaps the Daedalus could scan the planet. Even if we had six planets. We have hundreds.”
Rodney scrubs his hands over his face. “There has to be a way to narrow it down.”
“When Teyla and Ronon find a trace, we will begin to pick up a trail,” Zelenka replies.
Rodney thinks about the endless possibilities, and he can’t help but wonder if they might have been able to narrow down the potential planets if only he’d been contacted sooner. “Why didn’t you email me?”
Zelenka shakes his head. “Mr. Woolsey asked us not to.”
Rodney scowls, but he’s not sure what he would have done differently under the circumstances. He’s fairly certain that Woolsey’s orders, combined with Rodney’s likely ire for losing John, resulted in silence about Sheppard’s disappearance.
He looks up when the door opens, feeling a sense of relief when Teyla and Ronon enter the lab. He’s not sure they have any more answers than he does, but they’re his team, and he’s missed them.
Not as much as he’s missed John, but he’s missed them.
“Rodney,” Teyla says, putting her hands on his shoulders and touching her forehead to his. “It is good to see you.”
Rodney puts his hands on her shoulders, feeling the warmth of her skin under his hands, smelling slightly spicy Athosian soap and sweat. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“McKay,” Ronon says, clapping Rodney on the shoulder with a huge hand. If Rodney had been standing, he probably would have staggered.
“Do you have any additional information?” Rodney asks hopefully. “I’ve gone over everything that Zelenka has, but it’s not enough.”
Teyla nods. “Actually, yes. We found a witness who saw someone matching Michael’s description come through the gate, and we pulled all of the dialed gate addresses from the DHD on that planet.”
As far as Rodney can tell, it’s the first real lead they’ve had. “Let’s see it.”
Zelenka has already set up a branched diagram, listing all the potential gate addresses from the world where John had first gone missing, as well as the possible planets where he’d been taken, and the addresses that had been crossed off the list. It’s disheartening to realize that even with this lead-which Teyla deems legitimate-they could be searching possible planets for months.
“Do we have an educated guess?” Rodney asks. “Are there any addresses we can cross off?”
Teyla shakes her head. “There are addresses that the people of that world visit frequently, but if Michael is clever, he’ll use that to his advantage.”
“How many addresses did Michael go through to get to that planet?” Rodney counters.
“Four,” Ronon says.
Rodney nods. “He’d be getting careless by this point, and we have to continue searching. I’m not saying that we cross those addresses off the list. I’m saying that we start our search on the planets where the natives don’t have reason to go.”
Ronon points at four addresses out of the ten. “Those are regular trading worlds.”
“What do you know about the other six?” Rodney asks.
Teyla studies the addresses. “Two of them have well-known markets. If Michael went to those worlds, he would have to leave again almost immediately, and he would risk being seen. The other four addresses I do not recognize.”
“Then we start with those four worlds,” Rodney says. “How soon can we leave?”
~~~~~
The search is frustrating and tedious. Every planet they visit, they have to coax people into volunteering information with Teyla’s tact, or intimidate them into talking through Ronon’s quiet menace. Rodney can’t offer much-he’s not good with people, and he’s not very scary unless he has a nuke at his disposal.
Of course, other than the Genii, no one in this galaxy even knows what a nuke is, so Rodney is probably never going to be scary.
Rodney feels helpless. His intelligence doesn’t help under these circumstances; it just lets him imagine all the things that Michael might be doing to John. He hasn’t felt this powerless since Jeanie had been injected with the nanites, and John had talked Wallace into sacrificing himself to save her.
Slowly but surely, as the days go by, they cross off potential gate addresses, until they’ve narrowed their options to three. Unfortunately, the Daedalus is two weeks out when they get the information, so they can’t just ask Caldwell to scan the possible planets for John’s transmitter. Instead, they have to visit each planet and do what they can to isolate the locations John might be held.
Rodney retrofits one of the Jumpers so that it will scan for John, and he has to make sure that they can conduct the scans while under cloak, so that Michael won’t be able to detect the Jumper while they’re there.
Thankfully, Zelenka had been doing Rodney’s job as well as his own while Rodney had been on Earth, and he continues to pick up the slack without a word of protest.
Considering how often Zelenka protests jobs he doesn’t like, Rodney knows Zelenka wants Sheppard back as much as he does.
Well, maybe not quite as much as Rodney does, but Rodney appreciates the support, and he trusts Zelenka nearly as much as he trusts his team.
“I’d like to check all three,” Rodney tells Woolsey. “And I don’t want to come back to Atlantis in between.”
“And if you need assistance?” Woolsey counters.
“Then we’ll call,” Rodney replies. He doesn’t add, “If we can afford to wait,” but he thinks that’s probably understood.
For a moment, Rodney is certain that Woolsey will deny his request, although that’s not going to stop him. If he has to, Rodney will steal a Jumper, and he knows Ronon and Teyla will be happy to go along for the ride.
“I’ll allow it,” Woolsey finally says. “But I expect regular updates, and I expect you to call for help if you find Sheppard-if at all possible.”
Rodney can promise that much, and he calls Ronon and Teyla as he leaves Woolsey’s office. “We have a go,” he announces. “Let’s get packing.”
The whole city seems to be in cahoots to get them on their way, although Rodney has no idea whether that’s because they want him off the city, or whether it’s because they want John back.
Not that the why matters. The point is that they aren’t coming back to Atlantis until they’ve got John.
At least, that’s Rodney’s intention. He knows well enough that they might not have a choice; if they run up against too many obstacles, they’ll have to come back to Atlantis to regroup.
Rodney doesn’t plan on running into that many obstacles.
They pack the back of the Jumper with boxes of MREs and medical supplies, and Lorne shows up about halfway through.
“What are you doing here?” Rodney asks suspiciously.
“I’m here to pilot your Jumper,” Lorne replies with a smile.
Rodney frowns. “I thought you were in charge with John gone.”
“Yeah, I’m a little tired of being in charge,” Lorne replies cheerfully. “And I think you’re going to find Sheppard, so I’m bringing along a friend or two.”
Rodney wants to refuse Lorne’s company, if only because he doesn’t plan on returning to Atlantis without John, but he’s not one to turn down help, not when he’s sure that they’ll find John on one of the three planets.
And they can use the backup. No matter how awesome Ronon and Teyla are, they can always use the extra firepower if they do find John.
“All right,” Rodney says magnanimously. “But you’ll have to keep up.”
Lorne grins. “No problem.”
Lorne’s “friend or two” turns out to be one huge Marine by the name of Sergeant Dawkins. He’s well over six feet, probably weighs 300 pounds, and his P-90 is dwarfed in his hands.
Rodney sits in the co-pilot’s chair, while Ronon and Teyla take up the seats behind him and Lorne, leaving Dawkins to sit in the back, stretching his lets out in front of him and taking up half the bench.
As Lorne lines the jumper up with the gate, Rodney hears Woolsey’s voice over their radios. “Be careful, and good luck,” he says.
Rodney lets Lorne reply with a quiet, “Thank you, sir.”
They go through the gate with the cloak on, and Lorne takes them up into orbit to better scan the planet. The scan takes several hours, and Rodney busies himself with his laptop, wanting the distraction.
Rodney knows that a few hours aren’t going to make a lot of difference; John’s been missing for weeks now, and this is time they have to spend.
Still, Rodney will be happier if he doesn’t have to think about the lost hours, and there’s plenty of work he can do to stay busy.
“No dice,” Lorne announces when the scan finishes. “I guess we’re on to the next planet.”
Rodney sighs. “How much do you want to bet it will be the last one?”
Lorne shakes his head. “I’m not taking that bet, and as long as Sheppard’s on one of those planets, I’m not going to complain.”
Teyla murmurs her agreement, and Rodney can’t disagree.
~~~~~
It’s always the same when Michael’s goons come. As soon as John hears the door rattle, John sends Timos to the corner of the room in the hope that the guards will overlook the boy. That tactic works just often enough that John can’t give up trying, even though he knows it’s probably just Michael fucking with him.
He fights them, but more out of habit than any hope of success.
After the last attempt, John has no desire to truly try to escape unless he has a guarantee of success.
John meets Timos’ eyes as the guards drag him out, and Timos nods silently, indicating that he’ll be strong.
John goes limp in the guards’ hands and lets them drag him away, and he submits to the testing without protest. They strap him down in the chair, and Michael enters the lab with a smile. “Ah, Colonel Sheppard. It’s so good to see you again.”
“You know, if you’d leave more time in between visits, you might have time to miss me,” John quips.
Michael smiles. “That’s not how this works, Sheppard. I conduct tests, we wait for the results, and then you come back for more tests. It’s simple.”
“Simple,” John echoes, but he doesn’t try to argue. He’s not sure whether their experiments drove Michael crazy, or if they’d just moved Michael along the continuum, but John feels a certain responsibility.
If not for John’s decision, Michael never would have been put in this position; he would have been just another Wraith, who would have lived or died after attacking Atlantis or its people.
If not for John, Timos would have had a normal childhood-or at least what passed for normal in the Pegasus galaxy.
John is never completely certain how much of what Michael does is necessary for whatever he’s trying to accomplish, and how much is just payback. He’s not sure he wants to know-his only aim is survival.
Today is one of the better days; Michael and his goons take seemingly endless samples of blood, and then inject John with something that makes him woozy. John’s so out of it that he doesn’t notice the commotion outside the door until Michael holds up a hand.
“What is that?” Michael demands, following two of his creatures out, but leaving the other two with John.
John knows the guards are superfluous. Timos is still locked away, which means that John’s not willing to risk another escape attempt.
In his haze, John can hear gunfire and what sounds like an explosion. He struggles weakly against the straps holding him in place, knowing that it’s futile but unable to help himself.
The door bursts open, and John freezes when he sees Ronon enter the room, his blaster out, and he drops the two creatures immediately.
John can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. He’s dreamed of this moment for so long, he can’t take it in right now.
Rodney and Teyla are right behind him, and they rush over to loosen the straps holding John down.
John swallows thickly. “Rodney? Teyla?”
“We’re getting you out of here,” Rodney promises.
John shakes his head, his mind still fuzzy. “No, we can’t leave.”
“He’s delirious,” Rodney says, hauling John out of the chair.
Panic rises up to choke John, and he tries to pull free. All he can think about is Timos, because if the guards get to Timos before John can-
John can’t leave Timos behind. He’d promised they would leave together or not at all. He shakes Rodney and Teyla off and nearly falls to his knees, but Ronon catches him.
“No!” John protests. “We can’t leave him!”
Teyla steps in front of him and grabs his face between her hands. “John. John! Who must we not leave behind?”
“Timos,” John replies, blinking at her.
“Where is he?” Teyla asks gently.
John shakes his head, trying to clear it, feeling Ronon’s strong hands still holding him up. “In the room.”
“That’s not helpful!” Rodney says from behind him.
“Do you know where he is?” Teyla asks.
John nods. “I know the way.”
“C’mon,” Ronon grunts, shifting John’s weight. Ronon puts his left arm around John’s waist, his blaster still held in his right hand. “Point the way.”
Lorne stands in the hallway, P-90 in his hands. “Good to see you again, sir.”
John gapes at him, trying to order his thoughts, but they’re so jumbled he can’t grasp anything other than the need to get to Timos.
And he’s unarmed, and Michael is out there somewhere.
“Michael?” John asks hoarsely.
“We haven’t seen him,” Teyla confirms.
John shakes his head again. “I need a gun.”
Lorne frowns. “I’m not sure-”
Rodney moves in between them, cutting Lorne off. “John, your hands aren’t steady right now. What if you fired and hit Timos?”
“You’re right,” John mutters, knowing that he’s not thinking clearly. He glances up at Ronon. “You’ll protect him?”
“’Course I will,” Ronon says. “Which way?”
John points in the right direction, grateful that he can find his way back to the room in his sleep. He’s unsteady, but capable of walking with Ronon’s assistance, which is better than some Test Days, when he has to be carried back.
Lorne and Teyla guard the rear, and Rodney and Ronon keep their guns trained in front of them, and as they turn into the hallway where the cell is, John sees Michael holding Timos in front of his chest as a human shield.
“What will you trade for the boy?” Michael demands, a cruel smile curving his lips. “How about you give me McKay?”
Rodney takes half a step back, although his P-90 is still trained on Michael, and John doesn’t think. Or if he does think, it’s about the last two months, and how Michael needs to be put down like a rabid dog, and how John hates him with every fiber of his being.
If he thinks at all, it’s about Timos’ screams as he was punished for John’s last escape attempt.
In one easy movement, John reaches forward, pulls Rodney’s gun out of the thigh holster, and drills Michael between his eyes.
Michael’s body falls backwards, and Timos falls with him, although the boy quickly pulls free and launches himself at John.
The force of Timos’ body hitting him knocks John back on his ass, but he doesn’t care. Timos’ warm breath puffs on John’s neck, and he says, “Okay, it’s okay, buddy. These are my friends. This is my family. It’s Rodney, and Ronon, and Teyla.”
“We have to go, sir,” Lorne says nervously. “There are more of those creatures around.”
John wants to carry Timos out, but the sudden rush of adrenalin, mixed with the drugs in his system, has left him lightheaded and dizzy. “Will you let Rodney carry you?” he asked, glancing up to see Rodney staring at them with his mouth open.
“Okay,” Timos says softly.
John pleads with Rodney silently, willing him to be okay with this, even though Rodney has never shown much interest in children in the past.
Rodney surprises him, though, because he says, “Hey, buddy. You mind if I carry you?”
John’s stories must have been good for something, because Timos unwraps himself from around John and goes willingly to Rodney, who picks him up and settles him on one hip. “We’d better go,” Rodney says matter-of-factly.
Ronon gives John a hand up and takes most of John’s weight again.
“We’ve got a jumper just outside,” Lorne says from behind John.
Teyla takes point now, providing some cover for Rodney and Timos. John wants to offer help, but it’s all he can do to keep hold of the gun he’d snagged from Rodney, and put one foot in front of the other.
Halfway down the hallway, they’re met by Sergeant Dawkins, whom John vaguely remembers.
Dawkins smiles. “Good to see you, Colonel.”
John manages to nod, and then they’re out of the complex, under a slate-gray sky, and the jumper shimmers to life in front of them.
He hears Timos’ gasp of amazement, and then they’re up the ramp, and Ronon is setting John down gently on one of the benches.
Rodney puts Timos down, and as soon as John is settled, Timos is in John’s lap, huddling close, hiding his face in John’s neck-and no wonder. Timos has seen no one but John and Michael and Michael’s creatures for as long as Timos can remember.
“Do you need any immediate medical attention?” Teyla asks.
John shakes his head. “Nothing that won’t wait until we get to Atlantis.”
Timos whimpers a little as the jumper lifts off, and John shushes him quietly. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’re just taking off. I told you about it, remember?”
Timos won’t look up, keeping his face pressed to John’s neck, and John can sympathize. There have been plenty of times in the last couple of months where he’s wanted to shut his eyes and wish the world away.
“Hey, you want to look out the view screen?” John asks quietly. “You can see outside.”
Timos looks up uncertainly. “Outside?”
John shifts Timos with a grunt, ignoring the looks from the others, moving so that Timos can look through the view screen without loosening his grip on John.
Timos’ eyes go wide, and he says, “Oh.”
That small noise tugs at John’s heart. When he’d asked Timos what he remembered of the time before, Timos had been able to tell John nothing other than his name. John can’t blame the kid; being Michael’s guinea pig had been plenty traumatic for John, and he at least had some experience with torture.
Timos pulls away from John slightly, the better to see, and John smiles. Timos’ curiosity is bigger than his fear, and Lorne glances over his shoulder at the boy. “Do you want to come closer?”
Timos shakes his head, one hand still on John’s knee, his eyes focused on the world outside. He makes a small sound of alarm as the gate whooshes to life in front of them and backs up into John again.
“It’s okay,” John soothes. “That’s the gate. Remember?”
“I remember,” Timos whispers. He keeps his eyes on the window as they fly into Atlantis.
Lorne calls for medical, and John says, “I’ll take Timos to the infirmary.”
Rodney frowns at him. “You can barely move under your own steam.”
“I think it would be better,” John insists, glancing at Timos. “Please, Rodney.”
Rodney’s shoulders slump. “Fine, you win. I’ll tell Carson.”
“Perhaps Timos would like to walk with me,” Teyla says with a gentle smile.
Timos looks up at John uncertainly.
“It’s okay, buddy,” John assures him. “I’m just a little dizzy.”
Since that’s a common aftereffect of a session with Michael, Timos accepts John’s explanation without question.
Keller has two gurneys waiting, along with what looks like half the medical staff. Timos balks in the face of all those people, and a glance at his face tells John that the boy is terrified. Everybody seems to be talking all at once, and John wants to answer their questions-actually, he wants to tell them all to shut up and speak one at a time-but Timos comes first.
John pulls free of Ronon’s grasp and kneels in front of Timos, tilting Timos’ chin so that their eyes met. “Hey,” John says quietly. “I know there are a lot of people here, Timos, but they’re friends of mine. Remember? I told you they’d come for us.”
A little sense came back into his eyes, and he nods.
Sometimes, the kid’s bravery just blows John away.
“Colonel Sheppard?” Keller calls.
“I can walk, and so can Timos,” John replies. He’s a little steadier on his feet now, and while he’s not up to carrying the kid, he’s not about to be strapped down, and he won’t allow them to do that to Timos either.
Timos would probably go out of his mind if they tried.
“Colonel Sheppard.”
John glances up at Woolsey. “I’m okay,” he insists. “But where we’ve been-the gurneys aren’t a good idea.”
“Mr. Woolsey, Dr. Keller, we can get John and Timos to the infirmary,” Teyla says softly. “Timos?” She holds out a hand.
Timos hesitates for a moment, and then gulps and slips his hand in hers. John lets out a deep sigh, and then Rodney pulls him to his feet and puts an arm around John’s waist.
“Well, don’t all stand there gawking!” Rodney snaps. “Get a move on!”
John smiles for the first time in a long time, and believes he’s really home.
~~~~~
Although Rodney has very little experience with children, even he can see Timos’ abject terror when they enter the infirmary. Timos’ steps turn jerky and uncertain, and he pulls away from Teyla to press against John’s leg; he stops cold about ten paces into the room.
John sways on his feet, but he manages to kneel next to Timos with Rodney’s help. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “No one is going to hurt you here, and I’ll be right by you the whole time.”
Jennifer squats down in front of both of them. “Hey, my name is Jennifer,” she says with a smile. “What’s yours?”
“Timos,” he manages to whisper.
“I like that name,” Jennifer replies, her voice low and conspiratorial. “And I need your help.”
Some of the fear leaves Timos’ face. “My help?”
“Colonel Sheppard is hurt, and I need you to keep him calm for me,” Jennifer whispers. “I want to make him feel better.”
Timos glances up at John, a skeptical expression on his face. “Really?”
“On Atlantis, doctors help you feel better,” John confirms. “And Jennifer is right. I never liked going to the doctor.”
Timos squares his thin shoulders. “Okay.”
“Great!” Jennifer replies. “How about you sit next to John on one of the beds? I’ll bet he’ll feel better that way.”
Timos still appears wary, but he nods, and Rodney helps John to his feet and over to the nearest bed. It’s too high for Timos to clamber up, but Ronon has shadowed them to the infirmary, and he picks Timos up and sets him next to John.
“All right,” Jennifer says. “Why don’t you guys take a break? I’ll let you know when Colonel Sheppard is ready for visitors.”
Rodney glances at Teyla and Ronon, and they both nod, and then turn to leave. Rodney insists, “I’m staying.”
Jennifer sighs. “Fine. But you’ll have to stay out of my way.”
Rodney takes a step back, his hands raised. “I understand.”
When he looks over his shoulder, he can see Woolsey in the doorway of the infirmary talking with Teyla and Ronon, and he’s grateful to be this close to John. Curiosity has him turning his attention to Timos, since Jennifer is bustling around John-probably because she’s decided he’s the more pressing concern.
He has no idea how old the boy is-maybe a year or two older than Madison, based on his size, although given John’s condition, Timos’ growth might have been stunted by poor nutrition. Timos’ hair is long and dark, but it sticks up in back. His eyes are a clear, greenish hazel, and when he brushes his hair back, Rodney catches sight of a slightly pointed ear.
Rodney blinks, and realizes that he can see the shadow of the man in the boy-but that’s impossible.
“How old are you, Timos?” Jennifer asks.
Timos shoots a panicked glance at John.
“He doesn’t remember,” John replies wearily. “He doesn’t remember anything other than his name.”
Jennifer offers Timos a reassuring smile. “No problem. If you want my expert opinion, I’d guess about seven, and you can pick your own birthday.”
“Birthday?” Timos echoes.
“Sure, the day everybody else celebrates when you’re born,” Jennifer replies, looking into John’s ears. “There’s usually cake.”
Timos frowns. “What’s cake?”
Jennifer grins brightly. “Just you wait. I’ll make sure the cooks make a cake soon.”
“I like pie better,” John replies.
Timos glances up at him. “Is it good?”
“It’s great, buddy,” John assures him, his tone tender. “You just wait. You’ll get to try anything you want.”
“I’m going to take some blood, Colonel,” Jennifer says. “I know that’s probably the last thing you want right now, but I need to know what’s in your system.”
John nods. “Watch, Timos,” he says. “There’s a pinch, but that’s it. She’s going to need to do the same for you, just to make sure you’re okay.”
Timos nods seriously, and Rodney realizes that Jennifer had chosen to run tests on John first just to prove to Timos that he wouldn’t be harmed.
“How do you feel, Colonel?” Jennifer asks. “And I want an honest answer.”
“Tired, hungry, and still a little dizzy,” John admits. “But I feel a lot better right now than I have in a while.”
There’s the ring of truth in John’s words, and Rodney wonders how bad it had been. Normally, John won’t admit to even mild discomfort, so to have him say that much-and yet insist that this had been a good day-sets alarm bells off.
“Timos? How do you feel?” Jennifer asks.
Timos glances at John, and then admits, “Hungry. A little sore.”
“Where are you sore?” she asks gently.
“All over,” he admits in a whisper.
John puts an arm around Timos’ thin, narrow shoulders and whispers, “Good job.”
And Rodney realizes that one of the reasons John had been honest about his physical condition is that he wants to encourage Timos to do the same.
He feels a sharp sense of loss then, knowing he’ll never have his friend back-at least, he’ll never have John as he was before being taken by Michael. Rodney had believed he could go off for a month on Earth, lecturing at various colleges and preparing the way for declassification if it ever came, and he would come back to Atlantis and find John-and the rest of his team-just as he’d left them.
Instead, he’d come back to find John missing, and in getting John back, Rodney is now faced with the realization that everything has changed. John’s sense of duty is more finely developed than just about anyone else Rodney has ever known, and for the last two months, Timos has been the center of John’s world.
Rescue hasn’t altered that truth.
Timos is sagging against John by the time Jennifer finishes her tests, clearly exhausted and yet unwilling to sleep.
“I want to keep you both in the infirmary overnight,” Jennifer says.
John shakes his head. “No, no way. No offense, doc, but neither of us is going to be able to sleep in the middle of all this medical equipment. If you think we’re in danger, maybe, but otherwise-”
“You’re not in danger that I can tell,” Jennifer admits, her mouth twisting unhappily. “But I’d feel better if-”
“My quarters,” Rodney blurts out.
From the way John looks at him, Rodney guesses that he’s forgotten Rodney’s still in the infirmary, but his shoulders slump in relief. “You don’t mind?”
“I’ll stay up,” Rodney promises. He’s missed so much sleep already that another night won’t make much difference. “And my quarters are larger.”
“We’re used to sleeping on the floor,” John says, and the way he says it makes Rodney think that they’re probably used to sharing close quarters.
He wishes he could have seen the room where they’d kept John; maybe Rodney would have a better idea of what John had faced.
“I don’t know,” Jennifer says uncertainly.
“Timos isn’t going to be comfortable here,” John insists. “Please.”
“If someone stays with you,” Jennifer says reluctantly.
“Someone will be awake the entire time,” Rodney promises. “Ronon and Teyla will each take a watch,” he adds, knowing that John will balk if he thinks Rodney is going to stay awake all night.
The smile that tilts John’s lips is sincere. “Thanks, McKay.”
Rodney suspects that there’s more to it than that. He suspects they’ve only scratched the surface of all the fucked up things that Michael had done to John and the boy.
And he wishes he’d fought harder; he wishes he could have seen into the future so he could have prevented all of this.
~~~~~
John wakes slowly, feeling the soft mattress under him, and the warm blanket over him. He can smell the salt of the sea, and he feels the warmth of the sun streaming into the room that tells him the balcony is open to the elements. He’s grateful for it, because it’s one more reminder that the prior day had not been a dream.
As usual, Timos is curled up next to him, but when John opens his eyes, all he can see is a lump in the covers, since Timos has burrowed underneath. Ronon sits in Rodney’s desk chair, long legs stretched out in front of him, blaster unholstered in his lap.
John knows the precaution isn’t necessary-Michael is dead, after all, and they’re safe on Atlantis-but he appreciates it.
Michael is dead, he thinks, relief and emptiness following in the wake of that thought. Killing Michael hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as he’d hoped; the fantasies he’d harbored over the last few months had been better.
John should know by now that revenge is never quite as satisfying as expected.
He meets Ronon’s eyes and asks, “Where’s Rodney?”
“Sleeping in your quarters,” Ronon replies. “Feeling better?”
“Better is relative.” John nudges Timos. “Hey, buddy.”
Timos shifts slightly but refuses to move otherwise, and John shrugs. If Timos wants to sleep late, John isn’t going to make him get up.
“I need to get some clean clothes,” John says.
Ronon jerks his chin at a pile of clothes. “Already done.”
“Keep an eye on Timos?”
“No problem.”
John doesn’t remember the last time he’s been able to take a shower with unlimited hot water. He uses Rodney’s shampoo and soap, but he doesn’t bother with a razor, even though he knows he needs to get rid of the beard.
By the time he emerges from the bathroom, Timos is awake, and Ronon has somehow coaxed him into perching on Rodney’s desk as Ronon points out the various parts of his blaster.
“John!” Timos exclaims. “Have you seen it before?”
“Sure,” John replies with a smile. “But I think you’re the first person Ronon has explained how it works to.”
Timos glances at Ronon. “Really?”
“You listen,” Ronon explains briefly.
“He’s a great listener,” John says. “You want to get cleaned up before breakfast?”
Timos shrugs. “I guess.”
The kid has never been terribly interested in personal hygiene, and John usually had to insist that Timos get a sketchy wash in the little water provided. Still, someone had arranged for clean clothing, maybe from the Athosians, and John says, “Come on, kid. The hot water will feel good, I promise.”
Timos heaves a sigh and hops off the desk. “Okay.”
Ronon grins, and John has to work to hide his smile. For once, Timos sounds and acts just like any other kid.
“Let me show you how it works,” John says. “Then you clean up on your own.”
“Doesn’t the water work when you think about it?” Timos asks innocently.
John blinks. “Yeah, it does. How did you know?”
“I hear something in my mind,” Timos replies. “I just knew.”
“Okay, then,” John replies slowly. “Be careful about the temperature.”
Timos shrugs. “I will.”
“I’ll be right outside,” John promises.
“Can I leave the door open?” Timos asks anxiously.
John smiles. “Just ask Atlantis,” he replies and steps outside.
The door slides halfway closed behind John, and then stops.
John isn’t sure what it means that Timos has the gene-and a strong one at that. He’s not sure he wants to know.
“He looks like you,” Ronon says quietly when John sits down on the edge of Rodney’s bed.
John frowns. “No, he doesn’t.”
Ronon shrugs in such a way that suggests he’s not going to change his mind, but he’s not willing to argue about it.
John’s still tired, and he stretches out on Rodney’s bed while waiting for Timos to finish up. Timos takes his time, and John smiles. Apparently, Timos has discovered the joys of hot water.
Timos emerges fully dressed, in clothing that’s a little too big. He nearly trips on his too-long trousers, and John kneels down to roll up the cuffs on the trousers and then does the same for the shirt.
These clothes were a change from Timos’ old ones, which had ended an inch above the kid’s wrists and ankles and were filthy besides.
“Lookin’ good, kiddo,” John says. “You hungry?”
Timos nods. “Is it okay to go out?”
“Yeah, it is,” John replies. “But maybe you shouldn’t wander around without me, or Ronon, Teyla, or Rodney, okay? Especially since you can talk to the city. It’s really important that you’re safe.”
Timos nods. “Okay, John.”
“Good boy,” John says. “Now, let’s get something to eat.”
Luckily, it’s late enough when they enter the mess that it’s not as full as it could be. As it is, Timos nearly runs in the opposite direction when he sees the two-dozen people who are eating or in line.
John responds to Timos’ panic by picking him up and settling him on one hip, since he’s steady enough to manage it. “These folks are friends,” John insists quietly. “No one’s going to hurt you here.”
Timos presses his face into the side of John’s neck.
“You still want to eat?” John asks.
Timos nods against him.
“Okay, let’s see what we can find, then.”
With Ronon’s help, John fills a tray with enough food for the two of them and finds a table in the corner. He sets Timos down but doesn’t complain when Timos presses in close.
“What is this?” Timos asks in a whisper, pointing to the scrambled eggs.
“Eggs,” John explains. “Go ahead and try them.”
Timos doesn’t bother with the utensils, picking the eggs up in his fingers and shoving them in his mouth.
John points out the other items on the tray. “Toast and apples.”
Timos grunts and applies himself to his food with a single-minded purpose.
“Go slow,” John advises him. “You’ll be sick otherwise.”
Ronon is devouring his breakfast with the same focus, and John shrugs, figuring that he can teach Timos table manners later.
Teyla and Rodney join them shortly, just about the time that Timos starts slowing down. John is grateful that he hadn’t filled Timos’ plate, and he wonders if the kid will start growing now that he has access to normal portions.
Then again, John has no idea how much Timos’ growth has been stunted, if at all. If he has to guess, Keller is probably right about him being around seven, although John isn’t an expert.
“Mr. Woolsey wants to meet with you in an hour,” Teyla says. “I can stay with Timos if you would prefer to give your report alone.”
Timos glances up in alarm. “John, no!”
“I think Timos wants to stay with me,” John says evenly. “But thank you.”
No one argues with John, and he’s grateful to avoid conflict with his team. With the three of them riding interference, he’s pretty sure that Woolsey won’t press too hard to keep Timos out of the meeting.
John doesn’t think that Timos is going to tolerate being out of his general vicinity for the near future. There had been far too many days when John had been pulled out of their cell on Test Days, only to return weak and shaky and sick.
If their positions had been reversed, John is fairly certain that he’d feel the same way. And, in fact, John’s not entirely willing to let Timos out of his sight either. He trusts the people on Atlantis, but he wants to keep Timos close.
Timos is John’s responsibility; John fell down on the job once, but he won’t let it happen again.
And John knows Timos well enough to know that in another hour or so, he’ll be deeply asleep with a full meal in his belly.
“Has Jennifer said anything about when you’ll be cleared for duty?” Rodney asks.
John shakes his head. “No, but she’s probably waiting until I get cleared by the psychiatrist.”
“What’s that?” Timos asks.
John thinks it’s a good sign that Timos is comfortable enough to ask questions with his team around. “It’s a doctor for your head,” John explains. “The inside of your head.”
Timos frowns. “Why would you need one of those?”
John wonders sometimes whether Timos will be scarred by his time in Michael’s prison or, since he can’t remember anything that came before, it will eventually become a set of hazy, unpleasant memories that have no bearing on his life after their escape.
He glances at his team, hoping for help, but Teyla and Ronon have never exactly seen the point of psychology-although Teyla had liked Kate Heightmeyer quite a bit, if John remembered correctly-but Ronon had never liked talking about his feelings. And, while Rodney had appreciated having a captive audience, he viewed psychology and other kinds of medicine as little better than voodoo.
John hasn’t done more than exchange a few words with the current psychologist on Atlantis, a Dr. Murphy. John knows the man had come highly recommended, and that he’d served as psychiatrist on a couple of different bases, treating men and women home from half a dozen conflicts. He has no idea if the guy has any experience with kids, though.
But all of that aside, John has no idea how to explain why people might need a doctor for the inside of their heads.
“They listen to you talk about things that upset you,” John explains awkwardly. “Sometimes it helps.”
Timos doesn’t seem to be appeased. “Why wouldn’t I talk to you?”
Everyone around the table smiles, and John says, “That’s a good question, buddy. I guess the answer is that a doctor like that has experience with other people who have had bad things happen to them.”
Timos wrinkles his nose. “Michael hurt other people?”
“He hurt me and my people,” Teyla replies gently. “Did John tell you about that?”
John hadn’t, mostly because he’d spent so long looking for the Athosians, and then for Teyla, and he’d wanted to tell Timos stories about triumph, or funny events. The Athosians had lost a lot of people to Michael’s depredations, and every person lost had felt like a failure on John’s part.
Timos shakes his head. “No. Did you escape?”
“John helped rescue me,” Teyla replies diplomatically. “Me, and my son.”
Timos perks up at that. “Torren? Your baby?”
Timos had been fascinated by John’s few stories of the baby, maybe because he can’t remember anything before Michael’s lab, and he has no idea who his mother is.
“Yes,” Teyla replies. “He’s with his father now, and with my people, but he’ll be returning to Atlantis soon. You’ll meet him then.”
Timos’ face lights up. “Cool!”
Rodney shoots John a dirty look. “I see you’ve already taught him deficient language skills.”
“What’s wrong with me?” Timos asks anxiously.
John glares at Rodney, as does Teyla, and Rodney holds his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean it,” Rodney says. “I’m just saying there are better words than ‘cool.’”
“Like what?” Timos asks.
John grins when Rodney sputters at the question, and Ronon snickers audibly. Teyla somehow manages to keep a straight face. “I believe what Rodney means to say is that there are many ways to express the same sentiment. Knowing them all will allow you to more accurately express yourself.”
Timos frowns. “So, I could say awesome?”
“You could,” Rodney allows. “But there are a lot of other words, too.”
“Like what?” Timos presses.
Rodney frowns. “For that, you’d need a linguist.”
“What’s a linguist?”
Even Teyla chuckles at that question, and Rodney unbends enough to smile. “You don’t run out of questions, do you?” Rodney asks.
Timos ducks his head. “Is that bad?”
“No, it’s good!” Rodney hastens to assure him. “How can you learn anything if you don’t ask questions? I asked a lot of questions when I was your age.”
The funny thing is, John can remember being that curious, too. His father had been impatient, and his mom had answered as best she could, but it had been the stable master who had been most receptive.
That might have had something to do with John’s love of horses-that, and the sense of flying when he’d been on the back of his favorite mare.
Timos smiles and presses close to John. “You don’t mind?”
“Ask me anything you like,” Rodney replies magnanimously, and John knows what that concession means. He’s not really sure how to take it.
Timos nods, unwilling to take McKay up on his offer right away.
“We have the meeting,” Teyla says quietly.
John glances down at Timos. “Sorry, buddy, but this is probably going to be pretty boring. You up for it?”
“Can I sleep?” Timos asks.
“As much as you want,” John promises.
Timos smiles sweetly. “Okay.”
John smiles in return. “Let’s see what Mr. Woolsey has to say, huh?”
In reality, though, John doesn’t give a rat’s ass what Woolsey says. Timos is his, in every way that matters, and John is going to keep Timos with him, no matter what he has to do.
He just hopes his team is on board.
Part II