Putting this back up. Maybe it'll make me finish it
Title: Deviation
Rating: M
Genre: Team with a bit of John/Teyla
Warnings: Whump, mostly Teyla
Spoilers: None
Disclaimers: They're not mine. I'm just playing with them.
Author's Note: I started this fic a long time ago. I posted it, but took it down. Now, I've decided to put it back up in an effort to get myself to finish it (I hate it when people post stories and never finish them). This, I think, was the first SGA fic I started. It's been altered a bit since the first time I posted it (mostly in one section) and I do not feel that it flows as nicely as it did previously, so I may move that part before this is finished.
The screaming whine increases in volume and he knows they are in serious trouble. Again. He tries to will his burning legs into moving faster, but they do not comply. The shelter of the trees is too far away to reach in time. Trouble. He scans the area for anything that might help them, but to no avail. Again. If this were a normal human foe, in say a helicopter with guns, they may have had a chance to avoid being hit or to reach the shelter of the trees by simply running in an erratic pattern, making it difficult for their enemy to get a lock on them, but this was no ordinary foe and short of reaching the trees their chances for getting out of this safely were slim. He growls in frustration, but he’s not willing to give up just yet. Suddenly, something slams into his back and his breath is knocked out of him as he hits the ground. Trouble. The screaming whine reaches a crescendo. Again. His last thought before the darkness claims him is that he hopes one of his team makes it out.
**********************************************
The familiar, subtle scent of a flower wafting through his nostrils is the first thing he becomes aware of upon waking; the second is the warm, soft weight of a body sprawled across him. He groans and for a few brief seconds he is blissfully unaware of his predicament. Must be dreaming. He shifts and his aching body screams in protest. His eyes snap open, but he is blind to everything around him as he experiences a sensory overload - reliving their failed bid to escape capture. The warm body that was covering him shifts and groans, snatching him back to the present. All too soon the images and impressions are gone, replaced by the cool, dark, dampness in which they now found themselves.
“Teyla, what’s happening? Are you okay?”
He runs his eyes over her as she gingerly moves away from him, allowing him to slowly raise himself up on his elbows. She blinks at him and looks around before returning her gaze to him. Her eyes say what he was thinking before….Trouble. Again.
“McKay? Ronon?”
She shakes her head, sighing. “I do not know. Are you hurt?”
He takes a quick inventory and finding nothing seriously wrong, shakes his head. “Nothing a long, hot shower wouldn’t cure.”
He slowly gets to his feet and moves over to look out of the membrane covering the doorway. “You know we need to do something about this before it becomes a habit. It’s not one I want to pick up.” She looks at him quizzically and he smiles sheepishly. “Getting caught and taken aboard hive ships.”
Her face clears and she nods. “It is not something that I would like to continue to do on a regular basis either, Colonel.”
Just then a noise reaches them and they turn to see a group of drones dragging McKay and Ronon along between them. The membrane parts to allow them access and they toss the unconscious men into the cell. As they make their way over to check on their teammates, one of the drones grabs Teyla. She struggles against the drone’s grip, the sound causing him to turn in curiosity. When he sees what is going on, he rises slowly, menacingly from his position next to McKay. He takes a step closer to the drone, it tightens its grip on her and the others step into his path.
“Take me instead!” They ignore him and make their way out of the cell. “Teyla!”
He launches himself at the nearest drone and is thrown away from them. When he catches his breath, they are gone. He launches himself at the membrane several times, growling, before falling to the ground in exhaustion and frustration. He was not usually a fearful man; they had been on hive ships before and escaped, but his instincts were telling him that this time would be different. Dread grips his gut, turning his stomach; his heart rate, breathing and temperature become elevated, sweat breaks out on his brow and upper lip. Questions for which he had no answers, bounced around inside his head. Why would they take Teyla? Did they know that she was the one who could connect to them? What were they going to do to her? What were they going to do to the rest of them? Would they all escape intact this time? How would he cope if he lost another member of his team? He couldn’t help but think of Ford at that moment and as always happened when he thought of him; guilt, shame, anger and disappointment overtook him. He actually wished he would look up and find Ford peering through the “bars” at him with that look-what-I-did-aren’t-you-proud-of-me-dad look of his, but looking around him he knew he wouldn’t be that lucky this time. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to get himself back under control. He couldn’t do anything for Teyla at the moment, but he had two other team members that he needed to check on. He drags himself painfully off the floor and makes his way over to McKay and Ronon again, checking their pulse and breathing. Finding them both steady, he collapses onto the ground next to them, mind once again churning. The human mind and body are beautiful, powerful machines, but they can only take so much before they are forced to take protective measures and it is not long before his battered mind and body shut down.
*******************************************
“Take me instead!” Teyla hears him yell in desperation as she continues to struggle. She remembers saying similar words the day John Sheppard and his people walked into her life, forever changing it - forever changing her and the lives of her people. She had hoped when they escaped that day that she would never set foot aboard another hive ship. She had stared death in the face many times before that day, but never as closely. Until now. She remembers the look on Toran’s face as he was carried away. It haunts her still, despite knowing that she could have done nothing to change what happened. At times, she has wondered what he must have felt during those and the following moments leading to his death. Did he blame her as she has sometimes blamed herself? Did he accept it willingly or did he fight all the way? Did he think of her and what might have been had the Atlantis team not visited their world? She would never know the answers to any of those questions. She only knew that she was thankful that John and his people had come to their galaxy - to their planet. Despite the fact that they were the reason her people could no longer live on their home world, had fully awakened the Wraith, had suspected her and her people of colluding with the Wraith and made some decisions that were not what you would expect from people that were as advanced as the people of Earth seemed, they had brought something to the people of this galaxy they had not had since the time of the Ancestors - a fighting chance. Along with that fighting chance, they had given them something they had begun to lose - hope. Hope that one day their lives would not be overshadowed by the Wraith, hope that one day the people of their galaxy might again become as advanced as the Ancestors, hope that one day her people would once again be able to settle on Athos. Hope was a very powerful thing; without it all was lost. For generations, the people of the Pegasus galaxy had little to hope for - they could only accept death at the hands of the Wraith. They fought as best as they could, but death in this way became inevitable, expected. Death was still inevitable, of course, but death at the hands of the Wraith was not. In the beginning, she had her doubts about the wisdom of inviting these people to explore the ruins of their planet. The consequences of that decision weighed heavily on her during those first weeks on Atlantis. At times, she had been consumed and sickened by the guilt of her decision and what it had wrought for her people. She had even wondered how differently things might have been if she had turned them away, especially after learning of the transmitter in her necklace. If she had turned them away, she would never have taken John Sheppard to the ruins; he would never have found her necklace and summoned the Wraith to her home. She and her people would still be on Athos enjoying their respite until the next culling. As too would others in the galaxy as the whole of the Wraith population would never have been awakened. The Earthlings would have later traveled to another planet and learned of the Wraith’s existence. Maybe it would have made them more wary and cautious and they might still have not crossed paths with the Wraith or her people. Then, a face with a boyish grin surrounded by a mass of dark, tousled hair would appear unbidden in her mind, followed by the wondrous things she had seen, done and learned during her time with the Earthlings. The guilt would settle more firmly on her shoulders following these images and the feelings they inevitably produced. Then, one day while on the mainland it occurred to her that possibly events were meant to happen as they had. Certainly, things seem to have worked out for her people. They had had losses, but were prospering - they were safer, they had a stable settlement. They were growing, learning and doing things they would never have been capable of on Athos. Perhaps this was the path they were supposed to take on their return to the advanced civilization the people of Athos had once enjoyed. And perhaps this was the path the Earthlings were meant to take as well, reuniting with the other children of the Ancestors and aiding them in eliminating the threat their forebears had not. Whatever the case, she finally realized it was too late to change those events and dwelling on the past was never helpful. She was not afraid of death; she planned on fighting every step of the way until she was sure her teammates were safe or until she used her last reserve of energy. Whatever their plans for her, she would not make it easy for them to succeed. She is brought out of her reverie when the drone escorting her hauls her to a stop outside a doorway with a thick, opaque membrane covering it. Suddenly it opens and she peers into the room. Her breath catches in her throat as bile tries to force its way out of her, fear and a sense of foreboding grip her. She takes a shaky breath around the bile that has risen in her throat. This is not going to be like any other time they have been aboard a hive ship.
*******************************************
He is roused by the sound of grunting and mumbling and turns over to find both Ronon and Rodney have awakened. A very agitated McKay seems to be trying to speak and Ronon has the light of battle in his eyes, though it is clear that he is still unable to move anything except his eyes. He knows why they are agitated even before he hears the footsteps in the corridor beyond the cell, increasing in volume as they get closer. Time slows. The footsteps echo down the hall like the staccato of a drum in a cadence, before stopping just outside the doorway. Dread again knots his stomach. The membrane opens and he is disconcerted to see eight drones moving swiftly towards them. They are lifted roughly from the ground and dragged out of the cell, none of them in any shape to put up a fight, much less against the odds they faced - eight drones with little more than their - well, his - fists and maybe whatever knives Ronon had hidden on him, which would’ve been as effective as tossing a bullet at a target. He barely struggles as they move through the ship; instead he mentally maps their progress. Eventually, they turn down a corridor that dead-ends. Each of them is taken through a different doorway. Only when he sees the interior of the room, does he begin to struggle.
“Where’s the hospitality? Here I was looking forward to a nice little chat with your Queen - her asking questions and me answering with a patently witty comeback.”
They force him down onto the table, where they hold him, struggling, while a male Wraith injects him with something that causes his body to tingle before quickly going numb. Soon afterward he is out cold again. The male Wraith narrows his eyes, juts his head forward aggressively, hissing at the drones, who proceed to strap him down. These humans had shown themselves to be surprisingly resourceful and the Queen didn’t want any of them escaping before they gained the necessary components to implement their plans.
*******************************************
The next time he wakes, he feels better - some slight dizziness, but no pain. He glances around the cell, finding McKay still out cold, Ronon stalking around the cell like a caged tiger and Teyla….at the sight of her, fear jolts through him. He is on his feet instantly, moving over to her. Ronon comes to stand next to her as well.
“She’s been like that since they brought her back a short time ago. I checked her over, but she hasn’t woken. There are needle marks on her arm.” He glances at McKay, taking in his appearance. “McKay’s fine.”
“And you?”
“I’ll be good when we get out of here.”
He checks her arm, touches her forehead, then removes Ronon’s coat from her, noting that her uniform had been replaced by a long-sleeved, white dress and soft boots like the ones she wears occasionally when she’s amongst her people. He glances at Ronon, who shrugs. He runs his hands quickly over her body, rechecking for injuries.
“Teyla? Teyla, can you hear me?” He lays a hand on her arm and she inhales sharply, eyes popping open.
“Teyla? Are you okay?”
She blinks and glances around. She tries to sit up, but immediately lays back, closing her eyes as a wave of dizziness assails her.
“Teyla?”
She takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I am fine. Are you unharmed?”
He nods. “As far as I can tell.”
She looks to Ronon and he nods. “Rodney?”
He glances behind him. “He’s still out. Do you know what’s going on? What they did to you?”
“They are planning something new, but I was….incapacitated before I could find out more. Perhaps, I can try to connect to them now to determine their exact plan.”
He looks at her searchingly. “Are you sure you’re up to that?”
We need to know what they are planning, so that we may be better prepared to fight them.”
“She’s right, Sheppard.”
He makes a face. “You weren’t there the last couple of times. We don’t have a defibrillator or stunner if something goes wrong.”
“If it happens, then you will have to find some other way to disable me.” She glances at Ronon, briefly holding his eyes. He stands still and quiet, choosing not to involve himself in their battle of wills. Besides, he knows the outcome is a foregone conclusion. He doesn’t know what occurred the previous times, but from their exchange he can tell it was not good and begins to mentally prepare himself for what may come next.
“If you feel…..”
“I will break the connection immediately.” He nods, concern still radiating from him.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. He watches as almost immediately her eyes begin the rapid eye movement that should normally indicate a dream state, but as with all things in this galaxy, has taken on a more sinister meaning. Ronon looks on warily fascinated yet alert, body revved for a fight he hopes will not come. They wait in quiet suspense for what seems like ages, but is probably only five minutes.
Suddenly, her eyes fly open. “They are coming.” Moments later, footsteps can be heard in the corridor. They are standing; ready to fight when the membrane opens. They never get the chance as two drones stun Sheppard and Ronon, before moving forward to hold Teyla while a male Wraith savagely injects her with a needle. They release her and she stumbles backward against the wall. A moment later her head is swimming and her vision is blurring around the edges. She slides down the wall, tipping sideways as she lands. The last sight she sees before darkness claims her is the male Wraith coldly watching her with his head cocked slightly to the side.
*******************************************
“What have you found out, Major?” Dr. Weir asks him, voice tinged with worry.
“We’ve found no trace of Colonel Sheppard and his team, ma’am. Apparently, there was a culling on the planet.” He pauses. “We believe they’ve been captured.”
“How long ago?” Colonel Caldwell asks, forcefully injecting himself into the conversation, as usual.
“If the Daedalus arrives soon, sir, we shouldn’t be too far behind.”
“We are twelve minutes out. Have your teams assembled for transport.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Major, I’m sending through supplies and reinforcements to assist the survivors as well as for you to take on your mission. Dr. Beckett will accompany you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Contact me as soon as you have more information.”
“Will do.”
“Thank you, gentlemen. Weir out.”
*******************************************
“Send the teams and supplies through.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll be in my office.” She quickly exits the control room, escaping to the relative quiet of her office. At times like these she wishes her office provided more privacy. Still she breathes a sigh of relief as she steps through the doorway, moving to her desk. She sits, pulling the files she had been reading through earlier towards her as she tries to push away her worries about her flagship team. Five minutes later, when she’s read the same paragraph several times and assimilated none of the information, she gives up the pretense. She sighs, pushing herself up from the desk. Needing to get away, she heads to one of the more secluded balconies. Why should she pretend she isn’t worried? It is her job to worry. Not only because it looks bad when people turn up missing or dead, but also because these people have become her closest friends. Though, she tries not to dwell on it, life would not be the same if she didn’t have this group of people surrounding her. Of course, life would never be the same for any of them again. During the first almost year of the expedition when they were not able to contact Earth, that of course was what has been on most people’s minds - home. Then came contact with Earth and possibility of visiting home and the realization it was no longer home; Atlantis was. Now, the idea of going back to Earth to live, made her shudder. It would be nice to visit on occasion, she did have family and friends there after all, but she did not think she would be content living there or returning to her previous work. So here she is pretending to be calm, unruffled. These are times where she wished she had Teyla’s aplomb, though she had noticed recently that Teyla was losing some of that aplomb. Her people are missing again and with all the close calls they have had recently, she can’t help but fear that one of these times - no, another of these times, for she never forgets that Lt. Ford is still out there - they will not be so lucky. Her worrying, her emotion is what made her choose the line of work she chose. She had wanted to make a difference. She cringes when she thinks how naïve she had been before she became as jaded as any other Washington politico. Then came Atlantis. That had been her chance. Her chance to do something new, different, exciting and maybe finally make a difference somewhere, anywhere. Just so she knew that it had all not been in vain. Teaching had been great as had her career before, during and after despite what she had to deal with as a woman in her field, but all of that paled in comparison to heading the Atlantis expedition. Her name might not go on any new discoveries, but for her just knowing she was present was more than enough. She was privy to some of the most exciting knowledge in two galaxies.