Thrall...chapters 7:9

[hugglewolf]

Chapter Seven

They followed Laura down the hall. For the first time, Rodney noticed she was wearing protective gloves; there was blood smeared all over them.

“He got here ten minutes ago,” Laura said. “I’ve set the security sensors to full alert, just in case. This is something we really didn’t need, Rodney.”

He nodded stiffly, wondering when she had developed such a talent for understatement. As he pushed open the door into the front room, he became aware that John was swaying slightly and took his arm. “Maybe you should go upstairs, or wait in the kitchen. Sit down in there.”

John waved him off. “No way. I can help.”

Rodney gave it up; he didn’t have time to argue and he was quickly learning that a stubborn John Sheppard was probably the most irritating thing on the planet. He followed Laura in, John right behind him.

The blinds were down, the only light coming from a table lamp next to the sofa. Lying in its gentle glow was Ladon, leader of the Genii. Rodney nudged the first aid kit aside as he knelt down next to the stricken man; he was no doctor, but just looking at Ladon told him they no longer needed the medical supplies.

“McKay,” Ladon gasped. His breath rattled in his chest, the sound like dice rolling around in a bone cup.

“Why did you come here?” Rodney demanded. He shook off a restraining hand, not sure if it was Laura’s or John’s. “You put us all in danger by doing that.”

“Had to,” Ladon breathed. “Woolsey…plaza…not us.”

Behind him, John whispered, “Plaza?” Laura hushed him and Rodney leaned in closer.

“You didn’t do it? You didn’t plant the bomb?” He studied Ladon’s face for any sign of deception, and then dismissed the possibility. He’s dying and he drags himself here to make a false deathbed confession? Somehow it didn’t ring true. But then how had the Genii known? “I saw one of your men there!”

“Marcus…a mole…he found out too late to do anything….”

Rodney closed his eyes: too late to do anything except spot him and try to warn him.

“Sora,” he asked urgently. “Did they get Sora?” Because if they had, if they had taken out the Genii leadership, then the plans the three of them had made a few years before were just words, foolish ideas tossed around by people who should have known better. Maybe a lot of time had passed since then, and Rodney no longer considered himself the ally he had once been, but he liked options, and hated the thought that Sora was lying somewhere like Ladon was now.

Ladon’s eyes were closing, until Rodney shook his shoulders. The Genii gasped in pain but it brought back his focus, probably for the last time.

“No…yet. But Kolya…Kolya….”

His head lolled to the side, and it was done. Rodney pressed a hand to his shoulder, wishing he hadn’t been so damn stubborn, that he had contacted the Genii after the explosion. But it was too late for anything other than regrets on that.

When he stood up, he realised his own hands were covered in blood as well. There was a moment of flustered panic while he looked around for something to clean up with until Laura passed him an antiseptic wipe; he scrubbed at his skin with it, and then another, until Laura took them away from him.

“Alright,” he breathed, turning his back on the dead man. “Damn. I want you two to head for the Sanctuary. Laura, take John.”

“You take John,” Laura said. “But we don’t know that Kolya’s even aware Ladon came here.”

“And no-one’s taking me anywhere,” John added.

Rodney rounded on them. “I am sure neither of you are that stupid. Did you hear what he told us? Kolya was behind Woolsey’s assassination. The bastard’s launching some kind of coup, he has to be! The other two consuls are probably next, while Cowen’s distracted with the Genii. And now we know it too, even if we can’t prove it!”

Laura started another rebuke, but it was John who raised his hands. “Okay, just hold on. You have those automated sensors around the estate, right?” When Rodney nodded, he continued, “Then we’ll know they’re coming, and even a minute is enough to get down to the tunnel. We can be out of here before Kolya knows we’ve gone. Running before we need to would be the worst thing to do.”

Okay, he had a point. Ladon’s coming to the house - while Rodney was still shaken by his arrival and what it meant, that the Genii still considered him an ally - had complicated things, but if they moved fast, the situation was not unrecoverable.

“Alright,” he agreed. “But we need to move his body and try and clear up in here. And no, you’re not helping,” he added, as John moved towards the corpse. “From the look of you, if you tried to lift anything heavier than a finger, you’ll be joining him. Laura and I will do it.”

He turned his back on John, forestalling any argument, and grabbed Ladon’s shoulders while Laura took his legs.

= = =

Disposing of a body wasn’t as easy as they made it look in the movies. After Laura helped him downstairs with it, Rodney drove again through the hidden tunnel, and kept going, down back roads, and across terrain that made him grateful for the cruiser’s four-wheel drive. Finally, he stopped near a wide copse of trees; far enough from the house and from the Sanctuary that there could be no connection.

With a few mumbled words of regret, Rodney heaved Ladon’s body out of the car, and rolled it among the trees. Back at the house, John had pointed out they should remove the dressings Laura had used to try and stop the bleeding. It had to look like Ladon had run as far as he could and then dropped. Once Cowen found the body, he would give up the search for him.

With any luck.

The drive back was done in fits and starts; Rodney had to stop more than once because there was more blood on his hands, and on the seats, and even on the windshield, and he didn’t know how it had gotten there. He’d tried to wipe it off, and just ended up smudging it. For the rest of the journey, his eyes were more on it than the road and it was a miracle he hadn’t killed himself.

Back at the house, Laura had laid out fresh clothes for him. She ordered him to shower and get changed before he worried about anything else. Her look was grim and Rodney knew that yet again, he’d pissed her off. She had wanted to dispose of Ladon’s body, saying it was too risky for Rodney to do. But though she was strong, Rodney didn’t think she was strong enough to lug Ladon around. Now he realised she meant risky in other ways, and he stayed in the shower for longer than he had to, huddled in the corner, with the water almost too hot to take.

When he came downstairs, John was sitting at the breakfast bar and there was a cup of strong, sweet coffee waiting for him.

“What now?” Sheppard asked, after Rodney was half way through the drink.

Rodney groaned and let his head sag. “Something I should have done as soon as I got back. Where’s Laura?”

“Finishing the clearing up. What is it?”

“Come on.”

Sheppard followed Rodney upstairs, and took one of the PDAs that Rodney removed from the wall safe. “This is a list of contacts and safe houses. They all need to be told about this. It might stop here, but I just feel we haven’t seen the worst yet - I think Kolya will be happy to let Cowen start a rout of all the dissidents before he takes up the mantle of power.”

John sat down next to Rodney’s phone. “If Kolya’s involved, then no, we haven’t. How do you know they won’t trace the calls?”

Rodney took the other line. “I’ve been doing this for a while, John. Trust me, they won’t.”

He selected the first number from his PDA, and lifted the receiver. Before he started to dial, he glanced at John. “There’s really no love lost between you and Kolya, is there?”

John traced his fingers across the surface of the PDA, before turning a dark face on Rodney. “He gave an order and it was a bad call. I kicked his ass in front of his men - not the smartest thing I’ve ever done. Anyway, one of the guys who paid the price for his shit command skills was the son of a senate member, so he couldn’t execute me without drawing attention to what happened. That’s where you came in.”

Rodney nodded. “I’m glad I did.” Although he wished he’d come in a lot earlier than that.

“Me, too.” John picked up the receiver and started to dial.

= = =

Even with both of them - Rodney had ordered Laura to get some sleep and was surprised when she obeyed - it took until the early evening to get everyone. By then John was almost dead to the world; Rodney pried the PDA from his hands and put it away securely with his own.

“You. Bed,” he instructed.

John’s head lolled back and he sank deeper into the chair. “’m good here,” he mumbled.

Rodney ignored his protests as he took his arms and pulled him to his feet. “And when you wake up in the morning unable to stand, I’ll get the blame of it. I spent a lot of money getting decent mattresses for all the beds in the guest rooms. You’re not spending the night in a chair, Sheppard.”

He managed to manoeuvre John back towards his room, only stumbling into the wall once or twice, and nudged the door open with his foot. The bed was already made, clearly Laura’s handiwork, so all Rodney had to do was keep Sheppard on his feet long enough to turn down the blanket.

For something that seemed so simple, it proved to be quite difficult. Sheppard overbalanced, and Rodney found himself pulled along by the dead weight. He managed to turn enough so that he ended up on the bottom, remembering the last time and not anxious for a repeat.

“Sorry,” Sheppard groaned.

The thing to do would be to gently roll Sheppard to the side, heave him up the bed and throw a blanket over him. Rodney knew that. But his body knew something else: that Sheppard was one long line of warmth against him, and wasn’t ready to break that contact any time soon.

When Sheppard suddenly became alert, eyes wide as he stared down at him, Rodney felt his cheeks catch fire. Sheppard’s tongue darted out nervously, touching his lips. “Uh…Rodney?”

“Look, I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t like Kolya,” Rodney babbled, while inwardly cursing his lack of control over his body. “I didn’t buy you to do that, honest to God. It’s just…I…well, you’re hot and I can’t believe I just said that-“

It was all he got the chance to say.

“Rodney, shut up,” John ordered, and kissed him.

Laura will kill me, was the first thing that entered his thoughts. Then, as Sheppard teased his lips apart, tongue gently probing further into his mouth, he started to wonder if he was crazy - because there was a hot guy on top of him, kissing him, and he was worried about what Laura would say if she found out. Who cares?

Still, the kiss wasn’t what he expected - not that he’d been thinking what it would be like to have Sheppard’s lips on his, Sheppard’s tongue lapping at his own. He’d expected something fiery, and pushy - a forceful incursion rather than an almost frustratingly gentle advance. How much of that was because John was still weak, or how much of it was just John, he didn’t know. But he wanted to find out.

The urge to roll them over, so he could spread John out beneath him, was stronger than he could take, but he was afraid to do anything that would have John recoiling from him. Sheppard seemed to accept, now, that Rodney had purchased him at the auction to save him from Kolya, but what if there was still doubt there? What if Rodney was too pushy, moved too fast? Would John think he’d been lying?

In the end, it was John who decided. He shifted carefully onto his side and tugged at Rodney’s top, pulling him along so they lay, length to length. Rodney could feel his heart thumping against John’s chest and meeting an echo there. “Are you sure?” he asked, hating that it sounded almost like a plea.

John nodded, and this time it was Rodney who initiated the kiss. John’s lips parted readily, and Rodney took his time at it, mapping the insides of John’s mouth, licking and exploring. His hands were just as busy: he undid the buttons on John’s shirt - mine, he suddenly realised and was surprised to find that didn’t bother him half as much as it had that first night. Keeping the kiss going while he slipped it off was a bit of a challenge, but he was a genius and with the willing co-operation of his partner, he managed it.

Unfortunately, unless they were both double jointed, the pants and boxers would need a different approach. Rodney shifted back regretfully, but smothered John’s chest with tiny hesitant licks as he worked his way down to the pants. John moved with him as Rodney stripped him bare and tossed the clothes to the floor.

He was breathing hard now: they both were, a mixture of excitement and nervousness and exertion. Rodney propped himself up on one arm and took a moment to study John, to get some sense of control back. He almost wished he hadn’t. Carson hadn’t been kidding: the signs of the maltreatment John had suffered were etched all over him, like a record written on his skin. There were bruises, mottled over his hips, his arms, and his stomach. Reddened abrasions still circled his wrists, and there was even a long thin scrape down his right thigh. The fingerprints on his throat were mercifully starting to fade; now they looked like shadows beneath the skin. Rodney leaned down and pressed a kiss to each one, a wordless apology for something he knew he couldn’t have prevented and yet somehow, still felt responsible for.

“It’s done,” John said. He rested a hand at the nape of Rodney’s neck, and guided him up so he could kiss him again. When Rodney reached down between their bodies, fingers lightly fondling John’s erection, he felt a tiny shiver of excitement as John exhaled sharply into his mouth. He worked John carefully, running delicate touches along his length until he was groaning beneath him. But maybe he pressed too hard, or touched somewhere sore, because suddenly John gasped, and started to push Rodney off.

“Sorry,” he moaned.

Rodney nodded. “It’s okay. We can stop. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, anything you’re not ready for.”

John closed his eyes, and gradually his breathing slowed. When he looked at Rodney again, his eyes still held that spark of lust, the pupils dilated so wide that it was like staring into midnight pools. “I’m ready.”

Rodney was a little more careful then, and eased John’s legs apart. He tasted him, lapping at the drops of pre-cum forming on his cock, licking up and down his shaft, before moving back to tease the head with almost imagined strokes. A moaning, writhing John Sheppard was his new favourite thing, but it took a lot to hold Rodney’s attention and there was so much of Sheppard to explore.

John had other ideas. He grabbed the collar of Rodney’s shirt and hauled him up until they were face to face, Rodney’s arms locked on either side of John’s head. “I want to see you,” he demanded.

Rodney got stripped in record time, not because he was anxious to reveal himself - he was no fitness fanatic - but because there were certain things that clothing was an impediment to, and what he wanted to do to John was definitely one of them.

John did some exploring of his own then, fingers skimming over Rodney’s chest, sides, and back. He circled Rodney’s balls, grinning when it drew a stuttered curse. “I’ll remember that one,” he promised, a glint of mischief in his eyes. Rodney growled and leaned in to lightly nip his neck.

“I want you to remember all of me,” he said, “for next time, when you’re stronger.”

John nodded. “Okay. But, uh, I’m getting kind of close here.”

Rodney groaned as he realised he had nothing here to use for lube. Please don’t let this break the moment, he pleaded silently as he muttered an apology to John and skipped into the bathroom. All he could find was some kind of body lotion, but it would have to do. He popped the cap and took a quick sniff. It didn’t smell of anything really, so hopefully it would be fine.

He carried it back out and offered the bottle to John with a shame-faced sigh. “Okay?”

Sheppard grinned. “I think I’ll survive. If you get on with it.”

Rodney slicked his fingers well, and slid one inside John’s opening. He gave a low groan, causing Rodney to hesitate. “If it’s too soon…we can wait until you’re fully recovered.”

“No,” John said. He shifted a little, pushing himself down onto Rodney’s hand. “Keep going.”

Rodney slid his finger in and out a few times, gradually getting John acquainted with his presence, until he felt him loosen up a little. He added a second finger and changed the motion to a gentle scissoring movement, slowly widening him. He stroked a little further in, probing, and was rewarded when John almost shot off the bed as Rodney found his prostrate.

“Too close,” Sheppard panted.

Rodney poured a fair dollop of conditioner into his palm and coated his dick with it. He pressed his hands onto Sheppard’s hips and slid in, one long slow move until he was fully inside. John was holding his breath, lips tight, and Rodney gave a sigh as he started to pull out.

“Too soon,” he said.

John glared at him and managed to catch one of Rodney’s wrists. “I want this so don’t you dare. Now get on with it. Come on, Rodney, fuck me. I’m not going to break.”

It was almost a challenge, but Rodney already had the feeling that Sheppard would never admit to being sick or hurt, even if his arm was hanging off. He slid back in, withdrew and pushed home again, not as fast or as hard as he would have liked. But it was enough for Sheppard, and when Rodney took hold of his erection and pumped it, just once, John came all over his hand. Seeing Sheppard tense and let go, lying there like a boneless thing, was all Rodney needed to follow him.

= = =

John came awake suddenly, jerking upright and ready to bolt. Rodney was ready for it. He had spent most of the night with John in his arms, using gentle words and easy touches to soothe away nightmares that at one point had Sheppard sobbing and pleading in his sleep. The result was a tight ball of anger and hurt in Rodney’s chest that he couldn’t clear, and in a tremble when he pressed a hand to John’s shoulder to calm him, to ground him, a touch that said you’re home even before he knew if Sheppard wanted that opportunity.

John was ready to speak when he saw the earpiece flashing and Rodney shook his head.

“I understand, Tribune. I’ll be there. Good morning.”

Rodney broke the connection and slipped the handsfree off and put it away. “Cowen,” he said. “He wants a progress report. In person.”

John sat up, resting a hand on the back of Rodney’s neck. “Do you have to go?”

If only he didn’t, Rodney thought. It had been three days since their last encounter at Kolya’s townhouse. If the time spent on the Atlantis project so far hadn’t given Cowen the results he desired, did the Tribune really expect a breakthrough in seventy-two hours? Especially when Rodney had not set foot in the lab, but that was something he could explain as having worked from home - it was something he did a lot when he needed to get away from Kavanagh.

“Yes. But it’ll be okay. I want you to stay here with Laura. I’ll be back in a little while, John. Just promise me you’ll stay in the grounds.”

“Where else would I go?” John sagged back against the headboard. “Be careful, Rodney.”

Rodney nodded as he stood up. On impulse, he pressed a kiss to John’s lips and then hurried to the shower before either of them could say anything else.

Chapter Eight

Cowen had once told Rodney that obvious displays of power, prestige, and wealth - all such things were ostentatious and something for those who were unsure of their standing.

His house, admittedly an imposing edifice from outside, seemed to be built in accordance with that maxim. While it was large, and could probably house several families, the furnishings and décor within were simple and showed fairly decent taste.

It was not the charnel house the worst of the partisan rumours would have you believe. There were no hackle-raising screams from behind the walls; no trails of blood from under thick metal doors that led to torture chambers or dungeons. It was a home, even if its owner was not a man to cross or expect any kindness from.

But at least he did not strike without cause, or just for cruelty’s sake, like Acastus Kolya, so Rodney at least knew he was in no danger unless Cowen suspected he had been dragging his heels.

They were sitting on the veranda, sipping iced tea poured for them by a slight blonde woman with the darkest eyes Rodney had ever seen. Once she had finished serving them, she bowed deeply and Cowen dismissed her with a wave of his hand and a smile.

“I seek only reassurance,” he told Rodney, “that things are progressing.”

Rodney forced himself to sit as relaxed as he could but it wasn’t easy. Lying had never been his forte, or so he insisted, but thus far he seemed to be doing okay, because Cowen hadn’t issued an execution warrant on him. “They are. I know, the time things are taking must seem like we will never get to Atlantis…but we will,” he added hurriedly, aware of the sudden stiffness in Cowen’s posture. “I won’t let you down, Tribune.”

Cowen nodded. He filled his cup, and put the pitcher down when Rodney declined a refill. “I think I have found in you a scientist as eager to see the city of the Ancients as I am. You know of course, the opportunities Atlantis will present us with. Things are changing, Dr McKay. It might not seem like it: but many a gentle river has powerful undercurrents, hidden just beneath the surface. You can be swept away if you are not careful.”

Rodney smiled and took another sip of tea. Cowen didn’t need to make veiled threats. His words seemed to be a warning, but what could it be about? Was Cowen making him aware that he knew what Rodney was up to? If that were true, Rodney would already be dead, or detained somewhere while the truth was dragged out of him with pain and drugs. Maybe Cowen was seeing how far Rodney would support him; he already suspected what the Tribune wanted from Atlantis and his words seemed to confirm it.

“I’m always careful, Tribune. But I balance caution with necessity.”

Cowen chuckled, apparently satisfied. “Excellent. What good is intelligence, without the mettle to put it to use? I do expect things to progress a little faster with your lab, Rodney. You know how to get the best from your people, how to inspire them.”

“I know that you are already aware of how dangerous the technologies we are dealing with can be,” Rodney said, and for once he didn’t have to worry about giving himself away, because it was true. “I don’t want to risk the expedition.”

Cowen smirked at him. “Dr Kavanagh seems to think the risk is less significant than you believe. I trust you, Rodney; I do believe that you will get us to Atlantis in the near future. But you should know that as much as I respect your genius, you are not the only genius on the planet. Do remember that.”

Standing, Cowen reached for a small bell on the table. He rang it, and a slimly built man appeared almost instantly.

“Show Dr McKay out,” Cowen said. He smiled once more as Rodney set down his glass, nodded and left.

= = =

The driveway from Rodney’s house wound its way down from the front door to the double gate set back from the street. When he drove up and found it bent off its hinges, wedged on the gravel bed, he knew he was in trouble.

He roared up to the house, spraying chunks of stone onto the windows, ignoring the spider web cracks that appeared. The front door was also open, and from within he could hear the air raid siren of the alarm system.

He raced inside, aware he was doing a very stupid thing, but not finding time to care.

“Laura! John!” The kitchen was closest, just off the hall, but it was empty. The living room was next, and it was there he saw the first signs of struggle. A table was overturned; the gun safe, hidden beneath a watercolour on the wall, was open and empty. Laura. He raced for the steps, taking them two at a time, only to find the guest rooms in disarray. John’s was the worst, bedding ripped, blankets torn up and on the floor. Why? Was someone looking for something or was this a message?

His office was also turned over, but Rodney knew they’d never find anything. His safe was hidden, and even if they uncovered it, any attempt to blow the door off would destroy his laptop and whatever else was inside.

Almost stumbling downstairs, Rodney forced himself to stop and take stock. He’d been yelling loud enough to raise the dead and got no answer. If he kept running around, unthinking, he’d either fall and break something or run into something he wasn’t prepared to see. The only place really left to look was the tunnel. If something had happened…he could imagine how it had gone down.

They’d come in through the front; the damage to the gate showed that. Straight up to the house, and maybe they had disabled the external alarm because if there was a fight in the living room, it meant they had almost taken Laura by surprise. She would have gone for the gun, and he could see her grabbing John, shoving him towards their escape route. They might have made it, but there was one way to find out.

Every step felt like he was in a gravity pocket, where the pull of the Earth was ten times greater than before. The tapestry that covered the door was in place. Rodney gave a low whine. They hadn’t made it. He closed his eyes, raging against the burning that started as hot tears seared his cheeks. No. Was this why Cowen had called him away? So that people could come into his house? Take his friends?

A low groan snapped his head around, and Rodney gave a cry as he ran to the corner.

There, partially sheltered by the grandfather clock, was Laura. She was pulling herself towards him, raising a blood stained face to him. “Rodney,” she gasped.

Rodney dropped to his knees and pulled her up against him. “Oh, God, what did they do?”

“I’m okay,” she hissed as she clung to him. He wasn’t sure where to hold her, where she was hurt. “John…they took John.”

= = =

Carson’s face was grim when he called Rodney and Radek back into Laura’s room. Rodney was sick of seeing people lying in his house, injured and scared, and he was sick of arriving too late to do anything about it. But right now, he wanted John to be here, even if it was swathed in bandages, sedated, and stitched up, because that was better than not knowing.

“It was Kolya’s men,” she told them as they sat down around her. “I recognised the big guy, the one that was there at the auction.”

“Did they hurt him?” It was like prodding at an aching tooth; he needed to know how bad the pain was going to get, because then he would know if he could handle it.

When Laura looked at him, her eyes were bright. “You would have been proud of him, Rodney. He tried to slow them down so I could get away. One of them will have a limp for the rest of his days. But when they took him, he was alive.”

Of course he was; even Kolya wouldn’t have use for a dead man.

“I don’t understand,” Carson said. His brogue was more pronounced, like it always was when he got upset. “Whatever John did to Kolya, he wouldn’t go to these lengths for revenge. Would he?”

Radek removed his glasses, and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Is hard to say what a man like Kolya would stop at. If John slighted him as you say…and Rodney, you took away the chance for vengeance?”

“Cowen would kill him. Not because it’s me. Because of the project.” He didn’t know whom he was trying to convince. It couldn’t be coincidence that Kolya had chosen the time when Rodney was away from the house to kidnap John. Somehow, he’d known about the summons and waited until Rodney was clear, unwilling to risk injuring him.

“I told you,” Carson said angrily. “Cowen won’t protect you from Kolya. And he definitely wouldn’t act to protect a slave.”

“He’s not!” Rodney snapped, but Carson hushed him.

“To us, he’s not. But to Cowen, that’s exactly what he is. And he needs his consuls, Rodney. Giving John to Kolya…it’s like throwing a morsel from his dinner table to a guard dog. I’m sorry, but that’s how it is.”

Rodney got up and went to the window. It was raining now, fat steady drops that exploded on the glass, and misted up to hide the outside world. To hide John from him. He knew though, where Kolya would have taken him. And he knew why.

“I don’t think Cowen knew about this. Somehow, Kolya knows Ladon made it here. This is about buying our silence.” And it was effective. How could Rodney ask Cowen for help without revealing why Kolya had taken John? And all Kolya had to do was deny it.

“What do you think he’ll do?”

Silence greeted his question; he knew himself what the answer would be. Kolya wouldn’t be feeding John up, making reparation for his earlier mistreatment. Rodney closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the glass.

“I’m going to get him back. From Kolya.”

Radek was on his feet, his eyes wide with shock. “You cannot. You cannot give in to Kolya.”

“Give me an alternative, Radek. What else do I have that I can use?”

“Rodney,” Laura said, wincing as she leaned forward. “I know how you feel.”

No, you don’t, he wanted to say. Maybe if he hadn’t made love to John, if he hadn’t let that bizarre mix of vulnerability and defiance sink inside, then she would.

“But this is about more than John,” Laura persisted. “If you tell Kolya what you’ve been doing - the coup will go ahead and Kolya will be the one to take Atlantis. He’ll probably kill you then anyway, and John will be lost to us regardless. He wouldn’t want you to do this.”

Rodney smiled as he kissed her cheek. “Trust me. He’s worth it.”

Chapter Nine

Regis nodded at him as he drew up to the main lab, but didn’t say anything. That suited Rodney fine, and today especially when all his focus was on what he had to do. On what he had to do to get John back, not on what Kolya was doing to John right now, hitting him, cutting him, beating him, shoving into him so hard that John was screaming as he was torn open and left to bleed….

He activated the switch inside the doorway on autopilot and went straight away to Miko’s station. When he’d called her and Kavanagh from the house, to tell them he wanted the lab to himself that morning, both had been surprised, and Kavanagh had snidely told him to steer care of his work area. Like there was anything there that Rodney might find valuable! But it was Miko’s research data Rodney wanted: he could hardly contact Kolya and tell him about a fabled city in another galaxy and expect the Consul to believe him. He had to prove it, but if possible he wanted the evidence to be results that showed they were still a way off from getting to Atlantis, rather than his own work.

He had picked up her laptop, and a manila folder containing some calculations she was working on, when a footstep behind him froze him in place.

“Dr McKay,” a voice said.

Rodney spun around, and then bowed his head.

Consul Elizabeth Weir was standing in the doorway, flanked by two bodyguards. Standing behind her was Consul Caldwell, his hands clasped behind his back as his own two men stood beside him. Regis was nowhere to be seen.

“I wasn’t expecting an official visit,” Rodney stammered. Especially since none of the consuls know the Atlantis project even existed.

“This isn’t official,” Caldwell said. A look from Weir silenced him and she turned a seemingly genuine smile in Rodney’s direction.

“I think you know why we’re here, Rodney. ”

Fuck. Rodney considered whether he could somehow get past the consuls’ guards but dismissed the idea almost instantly. Even if he managed to get away, he would be leaving everything behind. He couldn’t go back to the house, and Laura, Radek and Carson were there. He wouldn’t have what he came here to get, which meant abandoning John to his fate. He was out of options.

“Okay,” he said. “So you know. What is it you want from me, consul?”

Caldwell started forward angrily. “For you to remember your place to begin with, McKay. You’re on treacherous ground, here. If Cowen knew what you’d been doing, your life would be forfeit.”

Again, Weir reprimanded Caldwell with a look, but when she turned to Rodney her smile was gone. “We know more than you might think, Rodney. Not only the existence of Atlantis, but what you’ve achieved by working on your own. Your motivation in withholding this progress from the Tribune is understandable. We agree that Atlantis would be the key to consolidating his global power. That is something we need to prevent.”

Rodney shifted uneasily. How the hell did they know any of this? Not from Cowen. And right now, he didn’t have time for Weir to dance around the issue. “Can I be blunt? Well, I’m going to anyway. You’re right about Atlantis. Since you’re here, I’m guessing you want to trade with me. I get you to the city and you don’t tell Cowen what I’ve been up to. Right?”

Weir nodded. “I appreciate your candour. It makes thinks considerably easier for all of us. How long are you from securing a stable wormhole to Atlantis?”

“Three years.”

The nearest bodyguard advanced on him and Rodney backed up, hands held out to fend him off. “Alright. One year. Roughly. That’s not accounting for any unexpected problems.”

“Such as?” Caldwell demanded.

Rodney sneered at him. “That’s why they call them ‘unexpected’. I don’t read palms, either.”

Weir chuckled. “You have spirit, Dr McKay. I’ve always admired that about you. From now on, while you will continue to give your main report to Tribune Cowen, you will provide the true updates to us.”

Rodney stared at them for a moment. It was no secret that Kolya didn’t get on with the other consuls. There had long been rumours that Caldwell and Weir were a partnership and that if anything happened to Cowen they were the most likely to take over. But no one with any sense paid much mind to such whispers, and clearly Cowen didn’t because Caldwell and Weir were still alive. But Kolya’s absence here, Woolsey’s assassination, and the other two consuls now clearly advocating treason…. Rodney realised there was more than one coup d’etat in the works.

“If you help me with something,” he said. If ever he could have something to hold over the authority of the consuls, it was now.

Weir turned a cold glare upon him. “I admire your spirit, Dr McKay. It won’t stop me breaking you of it. Remember who you are speaking to.”

“Oh, please. I think we can all stop with the posturing. You need me, alive and unharmed. Otherwise you can just rely on my science team and take your chances on getting through the wormhole in one piece and not ending up like that dog in ‘The Fly’.”

Weir nodded and Caldwell leaned into speak quietly to her. Rodney didn’t have to imagine what was being said. Caldwell was similar to Kolya, not in the perverted sadistic way, but rather that he favoured force whereas Weir favoured reason. This was confirmed when she shook her head, and Caldwell backed away, but not before giving Rodney a glare.

“I can imagine what you are going to ask for,” Weir said. “What I can’t imagine is why. One is not on a par with the other.”

So they knew. It looked like Kolya hadn’t been as careful as he thought. “They are to me,” Rodney said.

= = =

Rodney climbed out of the cruiser, while Carson helped Laura down. Both men had protested her presence: she was still shaky, her right wrist in plaster. Besides, the consuls had guaranteed their safety.

At that, Laura had sworn, which was unlike her, and said the only person she trusted to protect her friends was herself. Besides, she could shoot as well with her left hand as her right and she wanted to see the look on Kolya’s face when he was forced to give back what he’d taken.

Rodney didn’t care about that; he just wanted John back, and be damned whether Kolya looked cocky or mad.

It was Weir who had chosen the place for the hand off. The location was suitably isolated, but Rodney could only think it was also suitable for dumping their bodies. He only had Caldwell and Weir’s word that Kolya wouldn’t try anything. What they had over him, he didn’t know, but he hoped they were right. Rodney had his suspicions: Caldwell and Weir probably knew that Kolya was behind Woolsey’s murder. All they had to do was whisper the suggestion to Cowen. That was all. They had Kolya well and truly over a barrel.

When Kolya arrived, in a sleek people carrier, flanked by two humvees, Laura drew her gun and slipped the safety off.

“Don’t start anything,” Rodney warned. Things were going to be ready to ignite as it was. Laura nodded tersely but her eyes flashed with anger when Kolya got out.

“Dr McKay. Miss Cadman. I regret the unfortunate incident that led to your injury. Although I understand you were given the chance to avoid it; instead you chose to interfere. It seems a common trait among you and your acquaintances, Dr McKay.”

Rodney took a step forward, but Carson grabbed his wrist. “Where is he, Kolya?”

The door to the carrier opened, and the big man from the slave auction got out. He reached into the car again, and a moment later he heaved John out and lifted him like a child. Rodney’s throat squeezed shut. John looked unconscious; his clothes were torn, and his face was bloodied. That was all Rodney saw; his vision started to white out and he was reaching for Laura’s gun before she pushed him back.

“Why do you think he wanted you to see John like that?” she said. “He’d love for you to try it, Rodney. Don’t play it his way.”

Ronon walked past Kolya and Rodney watched him carefully. Only Carson’s sharp, “My God!” brought him to focus on the big man, and bile rose swiftly to burn at his throat.

Dex’s right eyelid was stitched shut, and although it was swollen, there was no bulge there; the lid was almost flat over the empty socket.

“You’re a bastard, Kolya,” Carson said.

Dex was level with them now, and there was something unreadable in his face. Rodney looked from John to Dex and to Kolya. He opened the door of his cruiser and said, “Get in.”

“Rodney,” Laura warned.

“We’re taking him too. If you want to come.”

Dex stood for a moment. Then he handed John to Rodney long enough to get in the car before Rodney passed back his charge. He closed the door firmly and turned to face Kolya.

“I won’t forget this. Any of it, Kolya.”

The consul was grinning at him. “This transfer of ownership is temporary, McKay. I’ll have him back soon enough and I’ll finish where I left off. He was as good as I anticipated.”

Again, Carson grabbed for him, but Rodney shrugged him off. Kolya would get his, but right now all that mattered was seeing John safely back home. They got back in the cruiser, Carson in the back with John and Ronon, while Laura rode shotgun. With a last look at the consul, they sped away.

= = =

The Sanctuary was closer, and it didn’t matter now if Kolya knew about it, if he followed them. Weir’s promise of protection was clearly genuine; whatever she had on Kolya, it was damning enough that he couldn’t touch Rodney or anyone he cared about, at least for now.

In the muted atmosphere, Teyla appeared to help. Rodney took John, helped by Laura, while the quiet woman assisted Carson in guiding Ronon upstairs. Carson chased Rodney out, and he ended up sitting downstairs with Radek and a bottle of Carson’s whiskey and by the time Carson came down to fetch them, half of it was gone and Rodney was breathing through his mouth because his nose was congested.

It was Ronon he saw first. Carson had fixed a dressing over the eye, and with the dreadlocks, it made the big man look like a very antiseptic pirate. He leaned on Teyla heavily as she escorted him out of the room.

That left John. Laura emerged with a medical waste bag and left without a word, without looking at him.

Rodney moved towards the door of the bedroom, but Carson grabbed his arm. “Rodney, you need to know some things before you go in there.”

“I don’t,” he protested, but Carson pulled him onto the window seat.

“Yes, you do. You probably guessed why Ronon had his eye put out.”

Yes, he’d guessed but it was the connection to a whole lot of other things that Rodney didn’t want to think about.

“He felt Kolya took things too far and stepped in. That was his reward. I’m glad you brought him back with us. Now…John.”

This was it, this was when Rodney wanted to press both hands over his ears and hum something, loud and off key, anything that would block out what Carson was going to tell him. But he couldn’t. He had to know, because he had to deal with it, he had to be strong for John. So he sat and listened. He heard words and phrases that sounded like sedated him for now…held him under…a clean break and things like tearing…no STDs…cleaned him up. Somewhere the information was being recorded, but it was being stored for processing at a later date, when Rodney could think about it and not feel like he was going to puke.

In the end, he got up while Carson was speaking, vaguely aware his words faltered and stopped. He pushed open the door to the bedroom and drew back the blanket. He got in and pulled John to him, closed his eyes and wept.

= = =

John slept like it was his vocation, but Rodney stayed awake for both of them. Carson came in and out, checking John’s vitals, listening to his breathing. He didn’t say much and Rodney was absurdly grateful and angry at the same time, because while he didn’t feel like conversation, Carson was behaving like this was a death-bed vigil or something and John was going to be fine. He was.

Around midnight, Rodney slid out of the bed and went to the phone. Like at his house, the lines here at the Sanctuary were secure. Rodney dialled the number, gave the coded password, and hung up. When the phone rang back, he lifted the receiver quickly, before remembering it would take more than the ringing to disturb John’s drugged slumber.

“McKay,” Sora said.

“Glad you’re still with us,” Rodney told her, and meant it.

He could hear the smile in her voice when she replied. “By all accounts you got one over on Kolya. I don’t know the how and why, and I don’t think I want to, but well done. Ladon would approve.”

Rodney nodded automatically. Yes, he would, and he wanted to ask has anyone found the body? But he couldn’t. Did Sora know Ladon had died at his house? Would she hate him for leaving his corpse to rot by the side of the road? Or would she understand? She was a soldier, and the Genii knew that every battle had casualties and sometimes those were the people still standing when the last shot was fired. With a glance at John, Rodney realised that sometimes the ones who fell were the lucky ones.

“Do you remember two years ago, you and me and Ladon spoke about contingency plans?”

There was a long silence, and he thought she’d hung up. Finally, he heard her breathe out and say, “Yes.”

Rodney closed his eyes. This was it. This was the one that was going to get him killed. He could feel it and surprisingly he didn’t really mind. “Good. Because I think it’s time we put them into effect.”

= = =

He got back into bed, feeling like someone had shifted some enormous weight from him. In reality, the opposite was true, but it didn’t feel that way to him. There was no more uncertainty now. He had a plan, one that wasn’t stretched out over years as his scheming involving Atlantis had been. This one was finite, and he could see the finish line, still a little ways off and yet so tantalisingly close.

As soon as his body touched John’s, he realised he was awake. Wide hazel eyes stared up at him in the darkness, and for a moment, Rodney was lost.

“John,” he said simply, his voice rough.

John leaned into him, and Rodney pulled him in tight. He held him while he started to shake, welcoming the warm dampness that spread onto his shirt. He held him so tight that he was afraid something might break but he still couldn’t let go.

“We will get you through this,” he promised. “We will. You are going to be okay, John, because I need you to be. Please. Just…hold on for me. Please.”