Team, Week 1: A Burden Shared (2/2)
Title: A Burden Shared
Author: wildcat88
Genre: Team
Prompt I see the bad moon rising/I see trouble on the way/I see earthquakes and lightnin'/I see bad times today (Creedence Clearwater Revival)
Word Count: ~17,700
Rating: PG
Warnings: None. Set Post-S5.
Summary: Unwilling to burden the others, each team member tries to endure a personal crisis alone. A difficult mission reminds them how much they need each other.
Notes: Many thanks to kristen999 for the beta. All faults mine.
To Part 1
Ronon staggered backward, hands pressed to his eyes. Something was wrong, wrong, WRONG! His every instinct screamed it. He drew his blaster and stumbled forward, blinking rapidly at the halos in his vision.
“Sheppard! McKay! Teyla!”
No answer. No groans, no whining, no bullets being chambered. Hand pressed to the wall for guidance, Ronon swept his weapon in an arc, searching for a whisper of cloth, a gasp, anything to show him where his team was.
He reached for his radio. “This is Ronon. Can anyone hear me?” Please!
Not even static.
Think!
Rushing wouldn’t help anything. Ronon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, mentally reciting the Satedan warrior oath. The familiar words of a now-dead language wrapped around his racing heart and soothed his flustered mind. When he finally opened his eyes, he was standing in the corridor he’d followed his team into. The walls shimmered, and on closer inspection he spotted the tiny crystals that covered every surface. Sensors.
Ronon knelt where he knew Sheppard had been and trailed his fingers over the floor. No blood or flecks of flesh. Not even lint. They had vanished completely.
Unless he was the one who had vanished.
Ronon stood and hurried back to the docking port. He lay on his stomach and stuck his head through the hatch. Jumper was still there and still empty. So, his team had been taken and he had been left behind. How and why?
He got to his feet and returned to the doorway which was still open. He stepped through and paused. Nothing. He took another step and then another. No flash of light and no team. When he reached the far end of the hallway, a door slid open. Blaster drawn, Ronon eased in, looking left then whirling to his right. Another big, empty room with corridors branching in every direction. Each had Ancestor writing above it. He moved slowly around the room, studying the signs. He chose the hallway with the only word he recognized.
Wraith.
Ronon moved silently, every sense outstretched. The stale air was expected, but he couldn’t smell anything else with it - nothing that indicated something living was aboard. The walls vibrated so slightly it was almost imperceptible, and reminded him of Atlantis. He attributed the faint hum around him to the power source for the lights and life support.
Life support. When had he started thinking in terms like that? While Sateda had been fairly advanced by Pegasus standards, they hadn’t had anything that resembled life support, not even in their medical areas. Had he changed so much in four years that he took such things for granted? He had been surprised at McKay’s obvious devastation over his sister’s illness. He knew their doctors couldn’t heal everything because he’d watched his teammates approach death on more than one occasion, only to be snatched back at the last minute by Ancestor technology. And yet, he had still assumed that the Earth doctors could easily cure something that had been a death sentence on Sateda.
Ronon passed a series of small rooms with beds and cabinets. Sleeping quarters for the station’s crew? He slipped into one to do a quick search. The tattered remains of a ten-thousand year old uniform in a drawer was all he found. Definitely not Wraith.
He continued down the corridor, radioing for his team every few steps, peering in rooms as he passed - what looked like a kitchen, a room with chairs in conversation groupings, another couple of big gathering rooms, more sleeping areas. A flashing light at the end of the hall caught his attention. He hurried toward it, sweeping his gaze over the rest of the open doors as he passed.
The flashing light was next to more Ancestor writing. Ronon frowned as he studied it. He recognized “Wraith” again along with “danger” and “precaution” but none of the other words were familiar. When he found his teammates and got them home, he was going to dig out that translator thing Weir had given him so he could preserve Satedan, and he’d make McKay or Zelenka program it with the basic Ancestor words.
Ronon got in a ready stance and swiped his hand over the door controls. When the door opened, he leaped inside, twisting left then right. The room was as big as the Atlantis gate room and filled with machines that beeped and flashed. Keeping his blaster in hand, he moved through the equipment toward the far wall, passing row after row of empty stasis chambers.
Several smooth metal tables stood in the middle, and the floor dipped slightly toward the drain under each one’s center, streaks of black staining the edges. While a part of him was repulsed at the idea of experiments, most of him hoped that they could find something in the records that would help them destroy the Wraith once and for all.
He rounded the corner, and his jaw dropped.
Teyla was in one of the chambers, eyes closed, still wearing her uniform including her P-90.
Ronon raced forward, trying to take in everything. The chamber seemed to be functioning. The interior was slightly illumined, and the panel on the right was lit with text scrolling across the display. Text he couldn’t read. What was it doing to Teyla?
He blew out an agitated breath and forced himself to holster his weapon before he shot up the room. Unwilling to risk hurting her, Ronon moved to the next chamber and poked at the controls. The buttons looked similar to the ones for the Atlantis chambers. He entered the sequence he’d seen McKay input when Beckett went in stasis. The read-out flashed, but the chamber stayed dark. Growling, he tried again without success.
Ronon slammed a fist against the case and stomped back to Teyla. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “Can’t leave you here like this, but if I try getting you out, I could kill you.” He sighed and pressed his forehead against the clear barrier that separated them. “I don’t know where Sheppard and McKay are. They aren’t answering their radios, and they haven’t found us yet even though they have life sign detectors so I’m guessing they’re locked up like you.”
He stepped back and studied the smooth planes of Teyla’s face. She bore little resemblance to his sister, but at times he had to bite his tongue to keep from calling her Jora, especially when she played a prank on Sheppard then cut her eyes to McKay to pass the blame. Sheppard fell for it every time, just like his parents had.
He couldn’t lose another family.
“Hang on, Teyla. I’m gonna get you out of there.”
Ronon whispered a prayer he thought he’d forgotten then slowly keyed in the sequence Keller had used to release Beckett from stasis. The chamber hummed, and more text scrolled across the display while a single button flashed. After a few moments of nothing, Ronon held his breath and pushed the button. The chamber’s interior brightened and several of the control lights changed to purple. The beeping steadily increased. Teyla’s lids fluttered and the barrier melted away.
“Teyla?”
She inhaled deeply then exhaled.
Ronon reached in and grabbed her hand. “You need to wake up now.”
She took another breath and blinked languidly at him. Then her eyes flew open and she gasped. “What has happened? Where are we?”
“Some kind of lab.” Ronon decided to leave out the Wraith part. No reason to remind her again of the tiny bit of DNA she carried. “You okay?”
Teyla looked around in confusion. “I feel fine. Where are John and Rodney?”
“Don’t know.” Ronon helped her out of the chamber. “When that light flashed, all of you disappeared. I found you first.”
“Then we must look for them. Which way?”
Ronon led her out of the lab and down the hallway to the hub of corridors. “I can’t read the writing over the entrances.”
Teyla glanced up at the words over his head. Her eyes darkened, but she didn’t say anything as she made her way around the room, stopping in front of one on his left. “This one indicates operations.”
“Worth a try,” Ronon said as he followed her into the hall.
The rooms they passed contained tables, chairs, and equipment. Not living quarters. Teyla stopped in one and bent to scrutinize a pile of crystals.
“What is it?” Ronon asked.
Teyla picked one up and walked back to him. “These appear to be similar to the crystals used in the control room. Rodney calls them data chips. I believe this to be an analysis area or a meeting room.”
Ronon grunted in reply and continued down the hall. They took a couple of turns that led nowhere and had to retrace their steps, but eventually found themselves in front of a large doorway with more writing.
“What does it say?” Ronon asked.
Teyla traced her fingertips over the text. “I am uncertain of this word, but this one says ‘Operations.’” She palmed the door controls then whipped her P-90 to ready and stepped inside.
Ronon mirrored her moves, covering the right side of the room. Consoles radiated outward from the center of the room in concentric circles. All were active.
“They are not here.” Teyla sighed as she turned around. “We should continue looking.”
Ronon stared down at a console. “Can one of these tell us where they are?”
“Perhaps.” Teyla moved to his side, frowning as she glanced over the console then walked to the next one. “Core temperature. Wind speed. Atmospheric analysis.” She met his eyes. “These seem to be measuring what is happening on the planet.”
Ronon weaved his way to the central bank of consoles. “And these?”
“I…” Her mouth formed the words she attempted to read. “I cannot be certain, but I believe this one is for storm generation and that one for ground quakes.”
Ronon stared at the pieces of metal and glass that seemed intent on destroying a planet. “How?”
“I have no idea. I do not think even Rodney would be able to explain it, but you have seen the power of the Ancestors. Do you doubt their ability to create a storm if they can create a human body using nanites?”
“No.” He drew his blaster and dialed it to kill.
Teyla clamped an iron hand around his wrist. “What are you doing?”
“Not gonna let that world die.”
oOoOo
Teyla felt the tremors running through the corded muscles in Ronon’s arm. She pulled until he lowered his weapon and turned to face her. “I understand how you feel, but you do not know the effect that firing at this console will have. There is no guarantee the storms would stop, and we would have lost the only way to shut them down.”
Ronon jammed his weapon in his holster. “Then what do we do?”
“We-” She stopped to study his expression - jaw clenched tight, fine lines around his eyes growing deeper, pulse hammering in his throat. “What do you think we should do?”
“Can you shut it off?”
Teyla wandered around the center panels. “Maybe. But I might make it worse.”
“Try one,” Ronon urged. “See what happens.”
Teyla chose the storm generation console then hesitated as Garjon’s face rose in her mind’s eye. Friends since childhood, she had sought him out to negotiate construction assistance for the new Athosian village on Tipul. “I learned of the coming disaster when I was here three days ago. A group was set to come next week to help us build our new homes on Tipul.”
Ronon’s head snapped up. “Tipul? The refugee colony?”
“Yes.” She met his gaze. “Michael’s vengeance continues.”
“Sorry. Losing a world is hard.”
“It is not the first world we have lost,” Teyla said, “and it is not the first time we have lost our independence. However, it is the first time we will merge our way of life with others. I fear losing who we are.”
Ronon flinched and turned away from her. She reached for him then stayed her hand and faced the console. To make a mistake would be to condemn Garjon and his people to death. To do nothing would have the same effect. She studied the readings, relying on the many hours she had spent assisting Elizabeth with translations and the multiple missions at Rodney’s side as he worked to save them. She had learned from the best.
“I believe the storm generation is at maximum. I will attempt to lower it.”
Teyla slowly twisted the dial. The display showed generation power dropping to mid-level. When she tried to lower it more, the console beeped and text began to scroll.
“It requires some kind of override to reduce it further.”
Ronon walked to her side. “Can you change any of the others?”
Teyla moved to the ground quake console. “I do not believe so. This one is much more complicated.”
“What about this one?”
She cast a glance over the read-outs. “It has to do with atmospheric composition. I do not know what the proper settings should be.”
Ronon didn’t look happy, but he stepped back to the next circle of consoles. “Any of these monitor what’s going on inside this place?”
Teyla surveyed the room again. A set of controls stood separate from the others in a corner. Hope flickered when she glanced over them. “This one is for life signs.”
Ronon hurried over. “Can you operate it?”
“We shall see.” Teyla typed in the commands as she had seen Radek do so many times. A map appeared on the screen in front of them. Two dots were in the center, and two more on the far side of the station. “Walk to the other side of the room.”
“Why?”
“I wish to determine which set of dots we are.”
“Oh.” Ronon jogged across the room. “How’s that?”
One of the center dots shifted in minutely. She zoomed in until pathways appeared.
“I am attempting to plot a path to them. Step outside and turn right.”
Ronon did as she asked, and she smiled as she followed his dot’s progress on the map. She traced the corridors from the operations room to where John and Rodney were then scrolled back to do it again until she had it memorized.
“One more time,” Ronon said. “I missed the beginning.”
She reran it again until he nodded. They hurried to the door and went right, moving quickly through the abandoned hallways and passing room after empty room.
“I wonder where they went,” Teyla mused.
“Who?”
“Whoever was living here. If the legend of the evil moon did not begin until after the Ancestors left, someone else must have been operating this station. Who would have such knowledge and where did they go?”
Ronon shrugged. “This is Ancestor technology. Maybe some of them stayed behind.”
“Perhaps.” Teyla nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps they were close to finishing this station and stayed behind in hopes of creating a weapon to defeat the Wraith so that the rest could return.” A thought struck her. “Leaving their home must have been hard.”
“Don’t care.” Anger twisted Ronon’s face. “They left us to the Wraith.”
“I know.” Learning that the Ancestors had been responsible for the emergence of the Wraith had been one of the hardest things Teyla had faced. “Their... retreat-”
“Retreat!” Ronon spat, long strides carrying him past their turn. “They ran away like cowards.”
Teyla grabbed his arm and pulled him backward. “This way,” she said, tugging him down the correct corridor. “I, too, wish they had chosen a different course, but they must have had their reasons.”
Ronon wheeled, leaning into her face. “Don’t defend them! How many of your people have died because they made a mess then left? Your culture is dying; mine has been dead for years. My family, everything I knew is gone. Forever.” His voice cracked on the last word. He spun and stalked away from her.
Teyla closed her eyes as sorrow gripped her. She should have realized. Ronon had started to withdraw while they were on Earth but had returned to his normal exuberance when they reached Pegasus. Everyone had been busy re-establishing ties and making sure Atlantis was properly functioning after their battles and spaceflight but once that was done they had settled into their routines. She had welcomed the respite from the constant dangers without once considering the effect it would have on her team.
She jogged to catch up to him. “Is that the burden you have been carrying?”
Ronon’s gaze was locked on the far end of the corridor. “Don’t know what you mean.”
“I see.” Teyla matched him step for step. “Halling and I fought for hours over moving to Tipul. I know what it is to live in the midst of a different culture. I find myself adapting to their ways, thinking like them, dressing like them, speaking like them. When I first arrive on New Athos, sometimes I feel as if I must relearn what it is to be Athosian. I grieve for what I know Torren will never know. Not that learning the ways of Earth or Sateda or any other place is bad, but he will never be wholly Athosian. None of our children will be.”
Ronon stopped, staring down at his boots. “I can’t remember the last verse of the Warrior Anthem. We sang it on the fourth day of the Liort Festival every year as a remembrance of the Fallen.” His shoulders slumped. “Can’t find it in any books. It’s just gone.”
Teyla slipped her hand in his as they began to walk. “There is no shame in grieving for what is lost.”
Emotion rippled over his face. “Don’t know how.”
“To grieve?”
“To let go.”
Teyla palmed the door controls and stepped through to the next section. “To let go is not to forget. It is to accept. Allow yourself to feel the pain. One day you will be able to remember without hurting.”
“Pain keeps me sharp.”
“Pain dulls the senses,” Teyla corrected. “It is life without color. Permit yourself to experience the fullness of life instead of merely existing. There is more out there than fighting Wraith.”
Ronon’s pace quickened. “Maybe for you.”
Teyla hurried forward and blocked his path. “For you as well. You are a fine warrior, but you are so much more. Do you not see that?”
Ronon took a deep breath. “We need to find Sheppard and McKay.” He stepped around her and strode toward the next junction.
Teyla sighed and followed, allowing the matter to rest for now. After a half hour of walking in silence, they reached the section the map had indicated held two life signs. She and Ronon took positions on opposite sides of the door. At his nod, she swiped the door controls and they slipped inside as one.
The room was much smaller than the one she had been in, and she recognized some of the equipment as infirmary scanners. Empty beds lined the room on one side and stasis chambers another. Teyla checked each one, pleased to see they were unoccupied.
“Found them,” Ronon called, sounding strained.
Teyla hurried past a row of storage cabinets and gasped. John and Rodney were on tables in the center of a sea of equipment, chests rising and falling in unison, their faces slack in unconsciousness. Each had a machine behind him that was projecting beams of light onto his head.
“What’s it doing to them?” Ronon asked.
“I do not know.” Teyla scanned the equipment, noting a monitor that displayed their vitals. She had spent enough time around such readings to know what was normal and what was not. “Their brain activity is extremely high.”
“That’s good, right?”
“While it is certainly a better sign that being too low, this is much higher than it should be, even if they were awake.”
Ronon moved to stand behind the device at Rodney’s head. “Is it hurting them?”
She stared at the morass of colors on the display. “I cannot tell.”
John jerked and moaned softly, but didn’t awaken.
Ronon reached for the device.
“Stop!” Teyla exclaimed. “What are you doing?”
“Was gonna turn it off.”
“That could kill them.”
“It might be killing them now.” Ronon glanced at John then back at Rodney. “We don’t know how long it will take Atlantis to get here, if they can get here at all.” He met her gaze. “We don’t have any water. If it takes longer than a few days, we’ll all be dead.”
John shivered, and his heartbeat sped up.
“You are correct.” Teyla shook off her fear and moved to Ronon’s side. “I have never seen a device such as this. Do you know how to turn it off?”
“I was just gonna move it.”
Teyla studied it from every side, searching for a button, a display, a control mechanism of any kind on the sculpted brown device. She placed a hesitant hand on it and a prickly sensation shot through her fingers to her elbow.
“Did it shock you?”
“Not exactly,” she replied, shaking her arm and wriggling her fingers.
Ronon reached out and touched it. “Huh.”
“Did it hurt you?”
“Nope. Didn’t feel a thing.”
She had made the decision years earlier to accept the Wraith DNA she had as a gift to help her people, but at rare times it was the curse her subconscious consider it to be.
Ronon ran his hands over and around the oval machine then down the cylinder that attached it to the table. “Got something.” He crouched to peer underneath the oval where it met the cylinder. “Small indentation where they connect.”
Teyla reached under the device behind Rodney and traced her fingers over the seam, gritting her teeth as the needles stretched from her fingertips to her spine. “I cannot find it.”
“You’re touching it.”
“I feel nothing.” Except the stabbing pain that had reached the base of her skull.
“Let go. I’ll do it.”
Ronon pulled her hand away, and she staggered back as the pain vanished. Teyla breathed deeply, searching for the center of her calm, then moved to stand at Rodney’s side. She took his hand in both of hers and let her gaze linger on his face, praying this wouldn’t be her last memory of him.
Teyla tightened her grip and met Ronon’s eyes. “Turn it off.”
oOoOo
Rodney hated dancing. He wanted to be left alone and had told the woman so vociferously and repeatedly. Yet she kept cornering him, forcing him to dance away from her. His head hurt when she got close. But he couldn’t keep dancing forever. His entire body ached from the exertion up to this point, and she wasn’t showing any indication of giving up.
She approached again, and the room grew dark. Rodney tried to pull away, but she had him this time. She ran her fingers through his hair, murmuring something in a language he didn’t understand. Her nails dug into his scalp, and he stiffened as the pain in his head spiked. Where was his team when he needed them?
Then suddenly the pain was gone and he was alone. No, that wasn’t right. Someone was holding his hand. Was he in the infirmary?
“Jennifer?”
“No, Rodney, it is Teyla. You must wake up.”
He took a deep breath, frowning when he smelled stale air instead of antiseptic. Definitely not the infirmary. He remembered a mission, a storm, a space station…
Rodney bolted upright and yelped when he smacked his head on something rock hard. “What the hell was that?” He clutched what was going to be a knot of massive proportions on the top of his skull and twisted around to stare in horror at the device behind him. “Oh, that is not good. Was it fully active when you shut it down?”
“We had no way to tell,” Teyla answered. “How do you feel?”
“Like somebody was trying to rip my brain out. Where’s…” Rodney trailed off as he turned to his right and spotted Sheppard trapped under a similar device. He scrambled to his feet and pushed in front of Ronon. “How long has he been like this?”
Ronon shook his head. “Don’t know. Probably since we got here about two hours ago.”
“Why haven’t you shut it down?”
“Was about to.” Ronon reached under the unit.
“What are you doing?” Rodney demanded.
“Turning it off.”
Rodney pointed at a flashing purple button. “This says off.”
Ronon blinked at him. “What does?”
Rodney heaved a sigh. “This button right here.”
Ronon glanced at Teyla then back to Rodney. “Don’t see a button.”
“How can you not…” Rodney turned to Teyla. “Can you see it?”
“No,” she said, “and I could not feel whatever Ronon found that turned yours off.”
Rodney looked over the displays and brightly lit indicator buttons on the device. “Seriously? You can’t see any of this?”
“Looks like a big brown rock to me,” Ronon replied.
“To me as well,” Teyla added. “Can you tell what it does?”
“I’m working on it.” A thought struck Rodney. “You pushed the only button you could find without knowing what the thing did? It could have fried my brain.”
Teyla’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Time was of the essence.”
“Still is,” Ronon said. “It’s hurting Sheppard.”
“What?” Rodney scanned the displays again. “’Download in progress,’” he read. “Oh, God.”
“What’s that mean?” Ronon asked.
“That Sheppard is royally screwed.” Rodney traced a finger along each row of indicators. “I’m not sure if it’s downloading something into his mind or out of it.”
“We must free him now.” Teyla reached for Sheppard’s hand as he suddenly gasped, fingers twitching and eyes rolling beneath his lids. “He is in pain.”
Nails digging into his scalp.
Rodney shook the sensation away and concentrated on the device. No obvious way to reverse or slow the download. He peeked under the unit. Reset. If the woman had cornered him a few seconds earlier… No, he wasn’t going to dwell on that while Sheppard needed him. Later, though, he would explain in infinite detail to his teammates what the consequences could have been.
“McKay.”
Rodney glanced to Ronon then down at Sheppard. His face was stretched in a grimace as he arched off the table and began to convulse. “Oh, no you don’t.” He straightened and reached for the off button. “Please don’t die.”
He pressed the button and the device powered down. Sheppard slumped bonelessly on the table, chest heaving. Then his eyes flew open.
“Sheppard?” Ronon shook Sheppard’s shoulder. “Can you hear me?”
Teyla bent, cupping Sheppard’s face in her hands. “John, look at me.” She looked up at Rodney. “He is not responding.’
“We need to get him back to Atlantis now,” Rodney said.
Ronon scooped Sheppard in his arms like a child. “Let’s go,” he said, striding toward the door.
Rodney scurried after him. “Wait. I can’t fly in that storm. I’ll kill us all.”
Ronon stopped, the muscle in his jaw jumping. “I’ll get Sheppard to the jumper. Teyla, get McKay to the control room so he can shut everything down.”
“Control room?” Rodney turned to Teyla. “What control room?”
“I will show you.”
She took off at a dead run.
Rodney stared after her then looked to Ronon. “What?”
“Go!” Ronon barked.
Rodney dashed after Teyla, glancing back once to see Ronon moving quickly but carefully after them. After a few twists and turns, he disappeared from sight. Rodney ran until he thought his lungs were going to burst. His legs were cramping and the sweat dripping in his eyes felt like hot pokers. His back was definitely never going to be the same.
“Teyla!” Rodney panted. “Slow down.”
“We are almost there.” Teyla peeked back at him from around the corner she’d just turned. “You can do this.”
Rodney let his head droop but kept running. When he was certain he couldn’t take another step, Teyla grabbed him by the arm and dragged him inside a large door. He stumbled to a stop, sucking in huge gulps of air until his brain caught up with his eyes. Bank after bank of consoles. He moved to the nearest one and felt his heart race harder. Tectonic plate movement analysis and projection. Rodney spun to check the one behind him - glacial temperature manipulation.
“I’ve found the mother lode,” Rodney whispered, bracing his hands on the console. “Systems for-”
“Rodney!”
He glanced up to find Teyla standing in the center of the room, her face pinched tight with worry. “Wha-” Oh, Sheppard. Right. “Coming.” He hustled down to where she was waiting.
“This console controls storm generation. I lowered it as far as it would let me, but I do not know the override to shut it off.”
Rodney studied the display. “Yes, well…” He glanced at her, wondering when she had learned so much about Ancient technology. “Um, good job.”
A flick of her eyes was her only reaction. “Can you shut it off?”
“Yeah.” When Rodney touched the dial, the panel lit purple and switched off. “Huh.”
Teyla stood at his elbow, her face pulling into a frown. “It would not shut down because I lack the Ancestor gene.”
“Guess some settings require it while others don’t.” Rodney moved to the next console and turned it off. “Do you know which station operates this facility?”
“Yes.” Teyla pointed to a grouping in the corner.
Rodney handed her his tablet. “Can you hook this to it and download as much data as possible? I need to know what happened when we arrived so that we can prevent it from happening again.”
She nodded and headed to the controls. Rodney made quick work of the rest of the consoles then walked around them again to confirm each one was off. He wandered past several others on his way to where Teyla was working, checking to see if any of them controlled a portion of the storms that he hadn’t considered because he was seriously opposed to dying in a jumper crash. Satisfied that everything else was data collection and analysis, Rodney joined Teyla at facility operations.
“I have downloaded the past twelve hours of data logs,” Teyla said.
Rodney glanced at his watch. “Good. We’ve only been here about four hours.” He knelt to unclip the connectors. “Any idea where Ronon and Sheppard are?”
Teyla turned to a panel and typed a command. A map appeared. “They are almost to the jumper. We must go.”
Rodney followed her down a long hallway that led to a hub of corridors. Teyla paused and turned slowly, her eyes focused on symbols over each entry. Rodney squinted, sounding out the words. Engineering. Officers’ quarters. Research and development. His mouth went dry. The possibilities…
“This way.” Teyla stood in front of the hub’s one door which opened when they approached.
Ronon was waiting for them at the end of a glimmering hall, still holding Sheppard. “I need help getting him in the jumper.”
“Rodney, prepare to fly us out of here,” Teyla said. “I will help Ronon with John.”
“Okay.” Rodney couldn’t help glancing at Sheppard as he moved to the hatch. “How is he?”
“Still won’t respond,” Ronon answered.
Rodney bobbed his head and climbed into the jumper. He hurried to the pilot’s chair and powered up, blocking out the sounds of Ronon and Teyla maneuvering Sheppard down the ladder and onto a bench in the back. Catatonic didn’t mean brain damage, couldn’t mean brain damage. Sheppard was too strong, too stubborn, too everything for that.
“We are ready, Rodney,” Teyla called from the back.
It wasn’t until he glanced back to make sure the hatch was secured that he realized his eyesight had returned to normal. He breathed a sigh of relief as he detached from the station and dove toward the planet. Storm clouds still covered most of the surface but when they broke through, they found a steady downpour instead of tornadoes and hail.
Rodney headed the gate, dialing as they approached. “Atlantis, this is McKay. Medical emergency. Have a med team meet us in the jumper bay.”
“This is Atlantis. Med team has been notified. You are clear to come through.”
They shot through the wormhole then rotated into the bay where Keller and her team were waiting. After that, everything became a blur of medical personnel and soldiers and needle pricks and questions. Rodney wanted to be pampered and coddled, but each time he opened his mouth to complain about his head, his back, his legs, and the tingling sensation on the right side of his tongue, he caught sight of Sheppard’s unblinking eyes staring at the ceiling. Eventually, Rodney bowed his head and let the sea of people flow around him.
“You okay?”
Rodney flinched hard and looked up to find the triage area empty except for Ronon who was hovering. “Where’d everybody go?”
“Teyla’ll be right back. Said she had something she needed to do.” Ronon strolled to the sofa near the door and plopped down. “Keller took Sheppard that way.” He waved to his left. “Some kind of special scanner.”
Rodney hopped off the gurney and settled on the sofa. “Did she say if she thought he was going to be okay?”
“Nope.”
“No she didn’t say, or no he isn’t going to be fine?”
“She didn’t say.
“Oh.”
Rodney propped his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. Patience was not his strong suit, never had been. He needed to be doing something. Over the years, he’d heard a thousand different opinions on what was the hardest part of being on a team. Without a doubt, for him it was not being in control. He was fine with Sheppard being in charge of the team, knew that he didn’t possess the strategy background or big picture thinking that came naturally to John. But in life and death circumstances, Rodney was the go-to guy. Except in situations like this where all he could do was sit while someone else worked to save the day.
“I think your sister should come visit,” Ronon said.
Rodney blinked, trying to connect the dots. “What?”
“Your sister. I think she should come.”
Rodney’s brain had apparently been damaged by the device because no matter how he tried, he couldn’t make sense of what Ronon was saying. “Why?”
“So Keller can fix her.”
Rodney felt like he’d been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. With everything that had happened, he’d forgotten about Jeannie’s diagnosis. He opened his mouth to explain, but his ability to speak vanished as every horrible thing that could possibly happen raced through his mind.
“I had a sister.”
Rodney sat in stunned silence. In all their years as teammates, Ronon had never mentioned a word to him about his life on Sateda or his family. Rodney glanced out of the corner of his eye at Ronon who was sprawled on the sofa, legs stretched out and head tilted back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The only person Rodney had ever met that came close to being as opposite of him as Ronon was Teal’c. They simply had nothing in common.
Except this.
Rodney cleared his throat. “Older or younger?”
“Older. Teyla reminds me of her.”
“Bossed you around, huh.”
Ronon’s mouth curled upward. “All the time.”
“Must be a sister thing. Jeannie is several years younger and she still does it.”
“Who does what?” Teyla asked as she came through the door.
Rodney glanced at Ronon who flashed a grin then went back to staring at the ceiling. “Nothing,” Rodney answered.
“Has Jennifer returned?”
“Not yet.” Rodney pushed to his feet and began to pace. “I should be doing some…” Horror filled him and he spun around, searching the area. “Oh, my God. My computer! Where’s my computer?” He hurried to the gurney he’d been on. “All the data about the facility, what it did to Sheppard was on it.” He dropped to his knees to look under the bed.
“Rodney.” Teyla pulled on his arm. “Calm down.”
He jerked away from her. “I need that computer! Don’t you understand how bad this is?”
“I gave your computer to Doctor Zelenka.”
“I mean, Sheppard could be dying and I’ve lost…” Rodney turned to stare at her. “You did what?”
“Doctor Zelenka is going through the files we downloaded.” Teyla took his hand and pulled him to his feet. “I did not think you would wish for any time to be wasted.”
“But Zelenka?”
Teyla arched a brow at him. “Do not be rude.”
Rodney heard Ronon snort behind him and couldn’t hold back a grin. For once, he actually knew what the man was thinking. “Zelenka is… adequate.” He looked toward the doors that separated them from Sheppard. “But he’s not me. I’ll be right back.”
He strode to the transporter and headed for his lab, surprised at the cacophony of sound echoing down the hall. He stopped short when he stepped inside. Every scientist under his authority was at a workstation or a table or an unoccupied piece of the floor. Ideas were being bandied about, discoveries were being shouted, and problems were being discussed.
“Ah, Rodney, there you are.” Zelenka pushed through a small group huddled around a monitor. “The data is incredible. We will be analyzing it for months.” He held out a tablet. “This is yours. We have copied all the data to a secure server and to everyone’s laptop. Doctor Kusinagi and her team are going through the information from the medical area where you and Colonel Sheppard were. As soon as we have something, we will notify you and Doctor Keller.”
“Yes, well…” Rodney tried to think of a clever quip or a sarcastic retort, but all that came out was, “Thanks, Radek.”
Zelenka blinked at him in surprise. “You are welcome. Please give Colonel Sheppard our best wishes.”
Rodney nodded and left. By the time he reached the infirmary, Sheppard had been wheeled to a medical bay where Teyla and Ronon had drawn up chairs. Rodney sat down between them, called up the data, and began to read.
oOoOo
The world was out of focus. Sound was distorted. Everything was twisted, unrecognizable. Time had lost meaning. John had a vague memory of walking onto a space station at some point in the haze of the past, but then a thousand knives had skewered his mind and he’d retreated to a dark corner, waiting for his team to save him. The waiting had stretched to some point past eternity, the knives burrowing so deep that he’d had to sever the connection to his body to keep his essence from being ripped to shreds, but even then the pain hovered close enough to steal his breath at times.
Then the pain stopped.
John had remained hidden, certain that it was a trick. But the pain hadn’t returned yet, and he sensed a change around him. So, he uncurled from that place in his mind that held his most precious secrets and took a tentative step. But he couldn’t find his way back. The eyes that had guided him to safety countless times refused to focus, to blink, to move. The ears that had alerted him of danger in two galaxies couldn’t translate the noise that washed over him. Fingers wouldn’t bend. Legs wouldn’t obey.
For one horror-filled moment, John thought Thalen had returned, but he’d been able to see and hear back then even if he couldn’t control it. He hadn’t thought anything could be worse than having someone else controlling his body.
He had been wrong. Having no one control it was worse. Much worse.
In his mind, he screamed for help as he searched relentlessly for the magical connection with his body, begging for release from his prison. Exhausted, he let himself drift in the nothingness. Only then did he notice the images around him - racing Dave to the stables to see who would get to ride Maddox, flying lessons with Granddad, the sizzle of kissing Nancy for the first time, being promoted to captain and squad leader. Stepping through the stargate. Flying a city in space.
Introducing Teyla to popcorn and Ferris wheels. Teaching Ronon how to surf. Plotting practical jokes with Rodney. Laughing at Carson’s McKay impersonation until tears streaked his face. Teaching Elizabeth the intricate dance steps of the Bucres harvest ceremony and screwing it up so Ronon would have to take his place. Asking Lorne to draw caricatures of the senior staff at the annual Atlantis PlayDay then spending a week’s wage to buy the ones of his team.
Watching Teyla watch Torren. Flying Ronon to Sateda to search through the rubble and pretending to not see the tears. Tweaking the jumpers’ controls until they responded more quickly to Rodney. Finally removing his team from the team Olympics so someone else could win. Late night star-gazing. Movie nights. Satedan death rituals. Athosian blanket weaving. Holidays. Birthdays.
The god-awful shirt Teyla had given him. Putting the entire contents of Rodney’s room on his balcony. Convincing Ronon to try on Carson’s kilt then plastering the pictures all over the Mess.
“Sh-p-d?”
The blur around him sharpened then faded. John heard a distinct beep in the roar of sound.
“Ca… me, She…”
Antiseptic, bitter and stinging, filled his nostrils. His fingers tingled. Something cold brushed against the inside of his arm.
“Wake…”
John blinked and the brown blur hovering over him turned into Ronon. When he realized his eyelids had actually moved, the beeping sped up. Ronon leaned closer, and John thought his heart would burst when he felt the pressure of two hands on the sides of his face.
“Can you hear me, Sheppard?”
John slowly and deliberately closed his eyes and opened them again.
Ronon’s grin threatened to split his face in two. “Knew I wasn’t hearing things. You were laughing.”
The image of Ronon in that kilt flashed in John’s mind, and he felt his body shake as the laughter rolled through him again.
One hand moved from his face to somewhere out of range. “Doc should be here in a second.” Ronon squinted at him. “You remember anything?”
A flash of light. Knives in his brain. John shuddered and closed his eyes against the pain.
The hand returned, gripping his neck and face. “Open your eyes, John.” The grip tightened. “Come on, buddy. We just got you back. You’re home. Safe.”
Safe. John forced his eyes open and locked gazes with Ronon. “Team?”
Ronon’s eyes widened at the hoarse whisper. “We’re good. Teyla is feeding Torren, and McKay’s in his lab doing science stuff.”
The beeping slowed slightly. When the privacy curtain slid open, Ronon stepped back to let Keller near. After a vitals check and the dreaded penlight, Keller performed a sensory exam then tested his reflexes and hearing. By the time she finished, John was sitting upright and mentally rehearsing his plea for a cheeseburger.
Keller smiled and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. “Everything appears normal, but I’d like to keep you overnight for observation, if that’s okay.”
John wiggled against the soft pillow and plucked at the fuzzy blanket, relishing in the feel of everything. “Sure, Doc.” He hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer. “What happened to me?”
“I’ll have to leave the technical details to Rodney. The short version is the moon, space station, whatever it was, recognized you and Rodney as having the ATA gene so it beamed you to the medical facility where a device began a memory dump.”
John winced as the sensation of stabbing knives returned. “What memories was it trying to take?”
Keller tipped her head to the side. “According to the information Rodney downloaded, it wasn’t trying to take anything. He says the device was designed to copy your memories and store them in the database for further analysis.”
“Hell of a way to get a mission report,” John muttered. “Could’ve just asked.”
“I’ve read reports of Ancient devices that did the opposite - actually downloaded information into human brains, almost killing the person involved.” Keller’s expression turned grim. “The problem is being human instead of Ancient. Our brains are not capable of the same activity as the Ancients.”
John let that soak in. “So, if I’d been an Ancient…”
“In all likelihood, the process would have quick and painless.”
“And McKay?” If the machine had hurt him that much, what had it done to Rodney?
Keller glanced at Ronon, obviously trying to hide a smile. “He is fine.”
Ronon chuckled. “He’s pissed. Guess the thing had a harder time working on him because his gene is fake.”
Keller’s shoulders began to shake. “He, uh…” She pinched her nose, swallowing a laugh. “His mind interpreted the device as a woman trying to trap him.”
John grinned at the image of McKay running from a woman who wanted him for his mind. Then the smile faded as the full implications hit him. “And if she, I mean the device had finally pinned him down?”
The humor left Keller’s face. “It did. He said she pinned him just as Ronon hit reset. If Ronon hadn’t reset it before the download started… Well, it was the only thing that saved his mind. And yours.”
“I don’t understand.”
Ronon’s eyes darkened. “Teyla and I couldn’t see the controls to turn it off. McKay says it was some kind of safeguard against non-Ancients trying to use it. Teyla couldn’t even find the reset button.”
John looked to Keller. “Her Wraith DNA?”
“I think so. We know Ancient tech has a mental component. I guess it can affect those without the gene if it wants.”
“Or maybe the Ancients learned something from the Wraith,” Ronon suggested. “The way they can make you see stuff that isn’t there.”
“That’s possible,” Keller said. “We really need to go back and study the facility.”
John shook his head. “Too dangerous.”
“Only to those with the ATA gene. Or Wraith DNA,” Keller added.
Fear tingled in John’s chest. “What happened to Teyla?”
“The place beamed her to a stasis chamber in another section,” Ronon said.
“No experiments or anything?”
“Nope. And before you ask, it didn’t do anything to me.” Ronon grinned. “I guess it didn’t think a plain human was much of a threat.”
“Guess you showed it.”
Ronon’s grinned widened. “Yep.”
“I’ll leave you boys to it. Call me if you need anything.” Keller patted John’s shoulder a final time and left, passing Teyla who was wreathed in smiles.
“It is good to see you awake, John.” Teyla pressed her forehead to his. “We have been concerned.”
“Me, too,” John replied, relieved to see her whole and healthy, just like Ronon had said. “How long have we been home?”
Teyla released a shaky breath and stepped back. “Two very long days.”
“Two days? No wonder I’m starving.”
“Perhaps a cheeseburger would help?”
“Absolutely. With lots of…” John narrowed his eyes. “Am I that predictable?”
“Yes. In fact,” she glanced over her shoulder at the empty spot where Ronon had been, “I believe it should be here soon. With lots of onion.”
Secretly delighted that his team knew him well enough to know his favorite indulgence, he asked, “What if I was going to say I wanted extra tomato?”
Teyla smiled indulgently. “Since you remove the tomato every time, I doubt you would have said that. However, Ronon is only a radio call away. If you wish extra tomato…”
“No, no. I prefer onion.”
“That is good to hear.” Teyla glanced over her shoulder again then perched on the side of his bed and lowered her voice. “Ronon is finally allowing himself to grieve over all he lost. I believe he requires our help.”
John tilted his head in confusion. “What kind of help?”
“Help to let go. He has mentioned many different rituals and ceremonies, including one that releases the spirit of a loved one.” Teyla’s gaze lost focus and her voice softened. “The release is really more for the one left behind. A way to be free of the pain of the past.”
Something they could all use. “What do we have to do?”
“I am unsure of the specifics, but I believe Elizabeth kept detailed recordings of what Ronon shared of his homeworld.” Teyla smiled sadly. “We would need to go to Sateda.”
John didn’t hesitate. “Whatever it takes. You find out what we need to do and I’ll arrange the trip.”
“A trip?” McKay’s voice preceded him into the curtained area. “You’ve been a vegetable for two days,” he stalked inside, “and you want to take a trip?”
“Well, not right now, Rodney,” John drawled. “Maybe after dinner.”
“I knew it. You have brain damage. Severe damage, judging by your asinine idea of flying a jumper after an Ancient device almost ate your brain.”
Teyla giggled then pressed her hand to her ear. “Excuse me for a moment. Apparently Torren has spilled a jar of dye on his head.”
McKay watched her leave. “You sure that kid isn’t yours?”
“Rodney!” John glared at him. “I hope I’m there when she breaks you in half.”
McKay shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m just saying he acts more like you than her.” He plopped in a chair and folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe you should stop spending so much time with him.”
John opened his mouth, a verbal dart ready to fire, but hesitated. He and Rodney had made arguing an art form, but this felt different. The mischievous glint in McKay’s eyes was missing, and the edge to his voice was sharper than usual. “Spit it out.”
McKay shifted slightly. “Spit what out?”
“Whatever has your drawers in a knot, McKay.”
“I do not have my drawers in a knot, thank you very much.” McKay’s ears turned red, a sure sign he was lying, and his fingers fisted in his shirtsleeves. “I just don’t want to have to listen to the kid cry when you leave.”
“When I leave?” John gaped at McKay. “What the hell are you talking about?”
McKay’s lips thinned and whitened. “That offer from O’Neill.”
John stared in confusion until his abused brain dredged up O’Neill’s email. “Oh.”
“Yes, oh.”
“Wait a minute. That was an eyes-only communiqué.”
McKay snorted. “Like that isn’t a neon sign flashing, ‘Read me, Rodney.’ You didn’t seriously think I would let that go by.”
John hadn’t actually thought about it. The shock had washed all clear thought from his mind.
“The thing is, I haven’t spotted your reply,” McKay continued. “What’s the holdup?”
“Haven’t made a decision.”
“So, you are considering it.”
And John could hear it - the slight waver in his voice that only showed up when he was hurt and trying not to show it. “I have to. He’s a superior officer.”
“And yet it wasn’t an order. Strange, that. Didn’t know the Air Force gave you a choice.”
“They do sometimes.” But this was an exception. O’Neill was an unorthodox officer and former SG team leader. He knew what it meant to walk away from a team. O’Neill wasn’t going to force him to do it.
McKay took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, dropping his arms and leaning forward. “It’s a great opportunity, John. What’s the problem?”
“If you read that communiqué, you know what the problem is.”
“Yeah, I can see how helping develop military strategy for all stargate operations and specifically Pegasus could be a problem.”
John studied McKay for a moment, calculating the odds of him dropping it. Not likely. “Do you understand what that means?”
“I am a genius, Sheppard. I assure you I understand what that means, probably better than you.”
“O’Neill wants to develop a cohesive military approach for all bases of operations. That’s every outpost in the Milky Way, the expeditions they’ve sent to the Ori and Asgard galaxies and all the garrisons they are planning on establishing in Pegasus.”
“Yes, yes, and you would be traveling all over Pegasus and back to Earth on a regular basis which means you’d be too busy to be on an exploratory team. I get that. If you’re worried about us, stop being an idiot. Teyla has her family and her people. I’ve got a staff of minions that need my constant supervision, and you know that Ronon could lead his own team. Again I ask, what’s the problem?”
Everything McKay said was true. He’d been telling himself the same thing for the past week. The problem wasn’t them. The problem was him. He wasn’t sure he could let them go. He would still see them, but only sporadically. Plus what they had now - this bond of team, of family - would slowly fade. On the other hand, O’Neill had asked for John because he needed someone who really knew what was going on in Pegasus, someone he trusted to tell him the truth and not what he wanted to hear. Having O’Neill’s ear, shaping military strategy, making decisions for Pegasus based on the recommendations of people like Teyla and Ronon could do more to protect his friends than anything he could do alone.
Rodney leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Of course, not being in the field would suck. I bet it was a hard transition for O’Neill. Then again, he was at least fifteen years older than you when he stepped away from his team.” He rolled his head to the side and gazed at John. “You still have a few good years left.”
John’s brows shot up. “A few? You and I are the same age.”
“Who told you that?”
“You mean you think you’re the only one who can hack a file?”
McKay sat up straight. “I’m going to banish Zelenka to the waste management system for the rest of his life.”
John rolled his eyes. “And you’re calling me an idiot? You told me what year you were born in when you gave me your computer password.”
“And you remembered it?”
John folded his hands behind his head and grinned.
“What are you going to tell O’Neill?”
“O’Neill?” Ronon strolled in with the juiciest burger John had seen in ages; he tried not to drool. “That general who helped us get back here from Earth?”
John swallowed, doing his best to not look pathetic. “Yeah, him. Thanks for getting that, big guy.”
Ronon dragged a chair over and sprawled in it. “Who says this is for you?”
“Aw, come on. I’m starving.”
“You haven’t answered the man’s question yet.”
Teyla walked in, holding a sniffling Torren whose hair and face were covered in bright green. “We have been waiting for your answer for a week.”
John looked from one to the other, a strange mix of relief and embarrassment whirling inside him. He really should have known. They let him pretend he had secrets, but they had learned to see through him a long time ago. They were more than a team. They were family, and O’Neill had known it. Which was why he’d given John an out. If John didn’t want the assignment, O’Neill would offer it to Lorne. They had worked together at the SGC, and O’Neill trusted him. A trust that John shared. Lorne had great respect for Teyla and Ronon, and he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. Pegasus would be well represented.
“I’m not going anywhere. Now, hand over that burger.”
The End.
Author: wildcat88
Genre: Team
Prompt I see the bad moon rising/I see trouble on the way/I see earthquakes and lightnin'/I see bad times today (Creedence Clearwater Revival)
Word Count: ~17,700
Rating: PG
Warnings: None. Set Post-S5.
Summary: Unwilling to burden the others, each team member tries to endure a personal crisis alone. A difficult mission reminds them how much they need each other.
Notes: Many thanks to kristen999 for the beta. All faults mine.
To Part 1
Ronon staggered backward, hands pressed to his eyes. Something was wrong, wrong, WRONG! His every instinct screamed it. He drew his blaster and stumbled forward, blinking rapidly at the halos in his vision.
“Sheppard! McKay! Teyla!”
No answer. No groans, no whining, no bullets being chambered. Hand pressed to the wall for guidance, Ronon swept his weapon in an arc, searching for a whisper of cloth, a gasp, anything to show him where his team was.
He reached for his radio. “This is Ronon. Can anyone hear me?” Please!
Not even static.
Think!
Rushing wouldn’t help anything. Ronon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, mentally reciting the Satedan warrior oath. The familiar words of a now-dead language wrapped around his racing heart and soothed his flustered mind. When he finally opened his eyes, he was standing in the corridor he’d followed his team into. The walls shimmered, and on closer inspection he spotted the tiny crystals that covered every surface. Sensors.
Ronon knelt where he knew Sheppard had been and trailed his fingers over the floor. No blood or flecks of flesh. Not even lint. They had vanished completely.
Unless he was the one who had vanished.
Ronon stood and hurried back to the docking port. He lay on his stomach and stuck his head through the hatch. Jumper was still there and still empty. So, his team had been taken and he had been left behind. How and why?
He got to his feet and returned to the doorway which was still open. He stepped through and paused. Nothing. He took another step and then another. No flash of light and no team. When he reached the far end of the hallway, a door slid open. Blaster drawn, Ronon eased in, looking left then whirling to his right. Another big, empty room with corridors branching in every direction. Each had Ancestor writing above it. He moved slowly around the room, studying the signs. He chose the hallway with the only word he recognized.
Wraith.
Ronon moved silently, every sense outstretched. The stale air was expected, but he couldn’t smell anything else with it - nothing that indicated something living was aboard. The walls vibrated so slightly it was almost imperceptible, and reminded him of Atlantis. He attributed the faint hum around him to the power source for the lights and life support.
Life support. When had he started thinking in terms like that? While Sateda had been fairly advanced by Pegasus standards, they hadn’t had anything that resembled life support, not even in their medical areas. Had he changed so much in four years that he took such things for granted? He had been surprised at McKay’s obvious devastation over his sister’s illness. He knew their doctors couldn’t heal everything because he’d watched his teammates approach death on more than one occasion, only to be snatched back at the last minute by Ancestor technology. And yet, he had still assumed that the Earth doctors could easily cure something that had been a death sentence on Sateda.
Ronon passed a series of small rooms with beds and cabinets. Sleeping quarters for the station’s crew? He slipped into one to do a quick search. The tattered remains of a ten-thousand year old uniform in a drawer was all he found. Definitely not Wraith.
He continued down the corridor, radioing for his team every few steps, peering in rooms as he passed - what looked like a kitchen, a room with chairs in conversation groupings, another couple of big gathering rooms, more sleeping areas. A flashing light at the end of the hall caught his attention. He hurried toward it, sweeping his gaze over the rest of the open doors as he passed.
The flashing light was next to more Ancestor writing. Ronon frowned as he studied it. He recognized “Wraith” again along with “danger” and “precaution” but none of the other words were familiar. When he found his teammates and got them home, he was going to dig out that translator thing Weir had given him so he could preserve Satedan, and he’d make McKay or Zelenka program it with the basic Ancestor words.
Ronon got in a ready stance and swiped his hand over the door controls. When the door opened, he leaped inside, twisting left then right. The room was as big as the Atlantis gate room and filled with machines that beeped and flashed. Keeping his blaster in hand, he moved through the equipment toward the far wall, passing row after row of empty stasis chambers.
Several smooth metal tables stood in the middle, and the floor dipped slightly toward the drain under each one’s center, streaks of black staining the edges. While a part of him was repulsed at the idea of experiments, most of him hoped that they could find something in the records that would help them destroy the Wraith once and for all.
He rounded the corner, and his jaw dropped.
Teyla was in one of the chambers, eyes closed, still wearing her uniform including her P-90.
Ronon raced forward, trying to take in everything. The chamber seemed to be functioning. The interior was slightly illumined, and the panel on the right was lit with text scrolling across the display. Text he couldn’t read. What was it doing to Teyla?
He blew out an agitated breath and forced himself to holster his weapon before he shot up the room. Unwilling to risk hurting her, Ronon moved to the next chamber and poked at the controls. The buttons looked similar to the ones for the Atlantis chambers. He entered the sequence he’d seen McKay input when Beckett went in stasis. The read-out flashed, but the chamber stayed dark. Growling, he tried again without success.
Ronon slammed a fist against the case and stomped back to Teyla. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “Can’t leave you here like this, but if I try getting you out, I could kill you.” He sighed and pressed his forehead against the clear barrier that separated them. “I don’t know where Sheppard and McKay are. They aren’t answering their radios, and they haven’t found us yet even though they have life sign detectors so I’m guessing they’re locked up like you.”
He stepped back and studied the smooth planes of Teyla’s face. She bore little resemblance to his sister, but at times he had to bite his tongue to keep from calling her Jora, especially when she played a prank on Sheppard then cut her eyes to McKay to pass the blame. Sheppard fell for it every time, just like his parents had.
He couldn’t lose another family.
“Hang on, Teyla. I’m gonna get you out of there.”
Ronon whispered a prayer he thought he’d forgotten then slowly keyed in the sequence Keller had used to release Beckett from stasis. The chamber hummed, and more text scrolled across the display while a single button flashed. After a few moments of nothing, Ronon held his breath and pushed the button. The chamber’s interior brightened and several of the control lights changed to purple. The beeping steadily increased. Teyla’s lids fluttered and the barrier melted away.
“Teyla?”
She inhaled deeply then exhaled.
Ronon reached in and grabbed her hand. “You need to wake up now.”
She took another breath and blinked languidly at him. Then her eyes flew open and she gasped. “What has happened? Where are we?”
“Some kind of lab.” Ronon decided to leave out the Wraith part. No reason to remind her again of the tiny bit of DNA she carried. “You okay?”
Teyla looked around in confusion. “I feel fine. Where are John and Rodney?”
“Don’t know.” Ronon helped her out of the chamber. “When that light flashed, all of you disappeared. I found you first.”
“Then we must look for them. Which way?”
Ronon led her out of the lab and down the hallway to the hub of corridors. “I can’t read the writing over the entrances.”
Teyla glanced up at the words over his head. Her eyes darkened, but she didn’t say anything as she made her way around the room, stopping in front of one on his left. “This one indicates operations.”
“Worth a try,” Ronon said as he followed her into the hall.
The rooms they passed contained tables, chairs, and equipment. Not living quarters. Teyla stopped in one and bent to scrutinize a pile of crystals.
“What is it?” Ronon asked.
Teyla picked one up and walked back to him. “These appear to be similar to the crystals used in the control room. Rodney calls them data chips. I believe this to be an analysis area or a meeting room.”
Ronon grunted in reply and continued down the hall. They took a couple of turns that led nowhere and had to retrace their steps, but eventually found themselves in front of a large doorway with more writing.
“What does it say?” Ronon asked.
Teyla traced her fingertips over the text. “I am uncertain of this word, but this one says ‘Operations.’” She palmed the door controls then whipped her P-90 to ready and stepped inside.
Ronon mirrored her moves, covering the right side of the room. Consoles radiated outward from the center of the room in concentric circles. All were active.
“They are not here.” Teyla sighed as she turned around. “We should continue looking.”
Ronon stared down at a console. “Can one of these tell us where they are?”
“Perhaps.” Teyla moved to his side, frowning as she glanced over the console then walked to the next one. “Core temperature. Wind speed. Atmospheric analysis.” She met his eyes. “These seem to be measuring what is happening on the planet.”
Ronon weaved his way to the central bank of consoles. “And these?”
“I…” Her mouth formed the words she attempted to read. “I cannot be certain, but I believe this one is for storm generation and that one for ground quakes.”
Ronon stared at the pieces of metal and glass that seemed intent on destroying a planet. “How?”
“I have no idea. I do not think even Rodney would be able to explain it, but you have seen the power of the Ancestors. Do you doubt their ability to create a storm if they can create a human body using nanites?”
“No.” He drew his blaster and dialed it to kill.
Teyla clamped an iron hand around his wrist. “What are you doing?”
“Not gonna let that world die.”
oOoOo
Teyla felt the tremors running through the corded muscles in Ronon’s arm. She pulled until he lowered his weapon and turned to face her. “I understand how you feel, but you do not know the effect that firing at this console will have. There is no guarantee the storms would stop, and we would have lost the only way to shut them down.”
Ronon jammed his weapon in his holster. “Then what do we do?”
“We-” She stopped to study his expression - jaw clenched tight, fine lines around his eyes growing deeper, pulse hammering in his throat. “What do you think we should do?”
“Can you shut it off?”
Teyla wandered around the center panels. “Maybe. But I might make it worse.”
“Try one,” Ronon urged. “See what happens.”
Teyla chose the storm generation console then hesitated as Garjon’s face rose in her mind’s eye. Friends since childhood, she had sought him out to negotiate construction assistance for the new Athosian village on Tipul. “I learned of the coming disaster when I was here three days ago. A group was set to come next week to help us build our new homes on Tipul.”
Ronon’s head snapped up. “Tipul? The refugee colony?”
“Yes.” She met his gaze. “Michael’s vengeance continues.”
“Sorry. Losing a world is hard.”
“It is not the first world we have lost,” Teyla said, “and it is not the first time we have lost our independence. However, it is the first time we will merge our way of life with others. I fear losing who we are.”
Ronon flinched and turned away from her. She reached for him then stayed her hand and faced the console. To make a mistake would be to condemn Garjon and his people to death. To do nothing would have the same effect. She studied the readings, relying on the many hours she had spent assisting Elizabeth with translations and the multiple missions at Rodney’s side as he worked to save them. She had learned from the best.
“I believe the storm generation is at maximum. I will attempt to lower it.”
Teyla slowly twisted the dial. The display showed generation power dropping to mid-level. When she tried to lower it more, the console beeped and text began to scroll.
“It requires some kind of override to reduce it further.”
Ronon walked to her side. “Can you change any of the others?”
Teyla moved to the ground quake console. “I do not believe so. This one is much more complicated.”
“What about this one?”
She cast a glance over the read-outs. “It has to do with atmospheric composition. I do not know what the proper settings should be.”
Ronon didn’t look happy, but he stepped back to the next circle of consoles. “Any of these monitor what’s going on inside this place?”
Teyla surveyed the room again. A set of controls stood separate from the others in a corner. Hope flickered when she glanced over them. “This one is for life signs.”
Ronon hurried over. “Can you operate it?”
“We shall see.” Teyla typed in the commands as she had seen Radek do so many times. A map appeared on the screen in front of them. Two dots were in the center, and two more on the far side of the station. “Walk to the other side of the room.”
“Why?”
“I wish to determine which set of dots we are.”
“Oh.” Ronon jogged across the room. “How’s that?”
One of the center dots shifted in minutely. She zoomed in until pathways appeared.
“I am attempting to plot a path to them. Step outside and turn right.”
Ronon did as she asked, and she smiled as she followed his dot’s progress on the map. She traced the corridors from the operations room to where John and Rodney were then scrolled back to do it again until she had it memorized.
“One more time,” Ronon said. “I missed the beginning.”
She reran it again until he nodded. They hurried to the door and went right, moving quickly through the abandoned hallways and passing room after empty room.
“I wonder where they went,” Teyla mused.
“Who?”
“Whoever was living here. If the legend of the evil moon did not begin until after the Ancestors left, someone else must have been operating this station. Who would have such knowledge and where did they go?”
Ronon shrugged. “This is Ancestor technology. Maybe some of them stayed behind.”
“Perhaps.” Teyla nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps they were close to finishing this station and stayed behind in hopes of creating a weapon to defeat the Wraith so that the rest could return.” A thought struck her. “Leaving their home must have been hard.”
“Don’t care.” Anger twisted Ronon’s face. “They left us to the Wraith.”
“I know.” Learning that the Ancestors had been responsible for the emergence of the Wraith had been one of the hardest things Teyla had faced. “Their... retreat-”
“Retreat!” Ronon spat, long strides carrying him past their turn. “They ran away like cowards.”
Teyla grabbed his arm and pulled him backward. “This way,” she said, tugging him down the correct corridor. “I, too, wish they had chosen a different course, but they must have had their reasons.”
Ronon wheeled, leaning into her face. “Don’t defend them! How many of your people have died because they made a mess then left? Your culture is dying; mine has been dead for years. My family, everything I knew is gone. Forever.” His voice cracked on the last word. He spun and stalked away from her.
Teyla closed her eyes as sorrow gripped her. She should have realized. Ronon had started to withdraw while they were on Earth but had returned to his normal exuberance when they reached Pegasus. Everyone had been busy re-establishing ties and making sure Atlantis was properly functioning after their battles and spaceflight but once that was done they had settled into their routines. She had welcomed the respite from the constant dangers without once considering the effect it would have on her team.
She jogged to catch up to him. “Is that the burden you have been carrying?”
Ronon’s gaze was locked on the far end of the corridor. “Don’t know what you mean.”
“I see.” Teyla matched him step for step. “Halling and I fought for hours over moving to Tipul. I know what it is to live in the midst of a different culture. I find myself adapting to their ways, thinking like them, dressing like them, speaking like them. When I first arrive on New Athos, sometimes I feel as if I must relearn what it is to be Athosian. I grieve for what I know Torren will never know. Not that learning the ways of Earth or Sateda or any other place is bad, but he will never be wholly Athosian. None of our children will be.”
Ronon stopped, staring down at his boots. “I can’t remember the last verse of the Warrior Anthem. We sang it on the fourth day of the Liort Festival every year as a remembrance of the Fallen.” His shoulders slumped. “Can’t find it in any books. It’s just gone.”
Teyla slipped her hand in his as they began to walk. “There is no shame in grieving for what is lost.”
Emotion rippled over his face. “Don’t know how.”
“To grieve?”
“To let go.”
Teyla palmed the door controls and stepped through to the next section. “To let go is not to forget. It is to accept. Allow yourself to feel the pain. One day you will be able to remember without hurting.”
“Pain keeps me sharp.”
“Pain dulls the senses,” Teyla corrected. “It is life without color. Permit yourself to experience the fullness of life instead of merely existing. There is more out there than fighting Wraith.”
Ronon’s pace quickened. “Maybe for you.”
Teyla hurried forward and blocked his path. “For you as well. You are a fine warrior, but you are so much more. Do you not see that?”
Ronon took a deep breath. “We need to find Sheppard and McKay.” He stepped around her and strode toward the next junction.
Teyla sighed and followed, allowing the matter to rest for now. After a half hour of walking in silence, they reached the section the map had indicated held two life signs. She and Ronon took positions on opposite sides of the door. At his nod, she swiped the door controls and they slipped inside as one.
The room was much smaller than the one she had been in, and she recognized some of the equipment as infirmary scanners. Empty beds lined the room on one side and stasis chambers another. Teyla checked each one, pleased to see they were unoccupied.
“Found them,” Ronon called, sounding strained.
Teyla hurried past a row of storage cabinets and gasped. John and Rodney were on tables in the center of a sea of equipment, chests rising and falling in unison, their faces slack in unconsciousness. Each had a machine behind him that was projecting beams of light onto his head.
“What’s it doing to them?” Ronon asked.
“I do not know.” Teyla scanned the equipment, noting a monitor that displayed their vitals. She had spent enough time around such readings to know what was normal and what was not. “Their brain activity is extremely high.”
“That’s good, right?”
“While it is certainly a better sign that being too low, this is much higher than it should be, even if they were awake.”
Ronon moved to stand behind the device at Rodney’s head. “Is it hurting them?”
She stared at the morass of colors on the display. “I cannot tell.”
John jerked and moaned softly, but didn’t awaken.
Ronon reached for the device.
“Stop!” Teyla exclaimed. “What are you doing?”
“Was gonna turn it off.”
“That could kill them.”
“It might be killing them now.” Ronon glanced at John then back at Rodney. “We don’t know how long it will take Atlantis to get here, if they can get here at all.” He met her gaze. “We don’t have any water. If it takes longer than a few days, we’ll all be dead.”
John shivered, and his heartbeat sped up.
“You are correct.” Teyla shook off her fear and moved to Ronon’s side. “I have never seen a device such as this. Do you know how to turn it off?”
“I was just gonna move it.”
Teyla studied it from every side, searching for a button, a display, a control mechanism of any kind on the sculpted brown device. She placed a hesitant hand on it and a prickly sensation shot through her fingers to her elbow.
“Did it shock you?”
“Not exactly,” she replied, shaking her arm and wriggling her fingers.
Ronon reached out and touched it. “Huh.”
“Did it hurt you?”
“Nope. Didn’t feel a thing.”
She had made the decision years earlier to accept the Wraith DNA she had as a gift to help her people, but at rare times it was the curse her subconscious consider it to be.
Ronon ran his hands over and around the oval machine then down the cylinder that attached it to the table. “Got something.” He crouched to peer underneath the oval where it met the cylinder. “Small indentation where they connect.”
Teyla reached under the device behind Rodney and traced her fingers over the seam, gritting her teeth as the needles stretched from her fingertips to her spine. “I cannot find it.”
“You’re touching it.”
“I feel nothing.” Except the stabbing pain that had reached the base of her skull.
“Let go. I’ll do it.”
Ronon pulled her hand away, and she staggered back as the pain vanished. Teyla breathed deeply, searching for the center of her calm, then moved to stand at Rodney’s side. She took his hand in both of hers and let her gaze linger on his face, praying this wouldn’t be her last memory of him.
Teyla tightened her grip and met Ronon’s eyes. “Turn it off.”
oOoOo
Rodney hated dancing. He wanted to be left alone and had told the woman so vociferously and repeatedly. Yet she kept cornering him, forcing him to dance away from her. His head hurt when she got close. But he couldn’t keep dancing forever. His entire body ached from the exertion up to this point, and she wasn’t showing any indication of giving up.
She approached again, and the room grew dark. Rodney tried to pull away, but she had him this time. She ran her fingers through his hair, murmuring something in a language he didn’t understand. Her nails dug into his scalp, and he stiffened as the pain in his head spiked. Where was his team when he needed them?
Then suddenly the pain was gone and he was alone. No, that wasn’t right. Someone was holding his hand. Was he in the infirmary?
“Jennifer?”
“No, Rodney, it is Teyla. You must wake up.”
He took a deep breath, frowning when he smelled stale air instead of antiseptic. Definitely not the infirmary. He remembered a mission, a storm, a space station…
Rodney bolted upright and yelped when he smacked his head on something rock hard. “What the hell was that?” He clutched what was going to be a knot of massive proportions on the top of his skull and twisted around to stare in horror at the device behind him. “Oh, that is not good. Was it fully active when you shut it down?”
“We had no way to tell,” Teyla answered. “How do you feel?”
“Like somebody was trying to rip my brain out. Where’s…” Rodney trailed off as he turned to his right and spotted Sheppard trapped under a similar device. He scrambled to his feet and pushed in front of Ronon. “How long has he been like this?”
Ronon shook his head. “Don’t know. Probably since we got here about two hours ago.”
“Why haven’t you shut it down?”
“Was about to.” Ronon reached under the unit.
“What are you doing?” Rodney demanded.
“Turning it off.”
Rodney pointed at a flashing purple button. “This says off.”
Ronon blinked at him. “What does?”
Rodney heaved a sigh. “This button right here.”
Ronon glanced at Teyla then back to Rodney. “Don’t see a button.”
“How can you not…” Rodney turned to Teyla. “Can you see it?”
“No,” she said, “and I could not feel whatever Ronon found that turned yours off.”
Rodney looked over the displays and brightly lit indicator buttons on the device. “Seriously? You can’t see any of this?”
“Looks like a big brown rock to me,” Ronon replied.
“To me as well,” Teyla added. “Can you tell what it does?”
“I’m working on it.” A thought struck Rodney. “You pushed the only button you could find without knowing what the thing did? It could have fried my brain.”
Teyla’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Time was of the essence.”
“Still is,” Ronon said. “It’s hurting Sheppard.”
“What?” Rodney scanned the displays again. “’Download in progress,’” he read. “Oh, God.”
“What’s that mean?” Ronon asked.
“That Sheppard is royally screwed.” Rodney traced a finger along each row of indicators. “I’m not sure if it’s downloading something into his mind or out of it.”
“We must free him now.” Teyla reached for Sheppard’s hand as he suddenly gasped, fingers twitching and eyes rolling beneath his lids. “He is in pain.”
Nails digging into his scalp.
Rodney shook the sensation away and concentrated on the device. No obvious way to reverse or slow the download. He peeked under the unit. Reset. If the woman had cornered him a few seconds earlier… No, he wasn’t going to dwell on that while Sheppard needed him. Later, though, he would explain in infinite detail to his teammates what the consequences could have been.
“McKay.”
Rodney glanced to Ronon then down at Sheppard. His face was stretched in a grimace as he arched off the table and began to convulse. “Oh, no you don’t.” He straightened and reached for the off button. “Please don’t die.”
He pressed the button and the device powered down. Sheppard slumped bonelessly on the table, chest heaving. Then his eyes flew open.
“Sheppard?” Ronon shook Sheppard’s shoulder. “Can you hear me?”
Teyla bent, cupping Sheppard’s face in her hands. “John, look at me.” She looked up at Rodney. “He is not responding.’
“We need to get him back to Atlantis now,” Rodney said.
Ronon scooped Sheppard in his arms like a child. “Let’s go,” he said, striding toward the door.
Rodney scurried after him. “Wait. I can’t fly in that storm. I’ll kill us all.”
Ronon stopped, the muscle in his jaw jumping. “I’ll get Sheppard to the jumper. Teyla, get McKay to the control room so he can shut everything down.”
“Control room?” Rodney turned to Teyla. “What control room?”
“I will show you.”
She took off at a dead run.
Rodney stared after her then looked to Ronon. “What?”
“Go!” Ronon barked.
Rodney dashed after Teyla, glancing back once to see Ronon moving quickly but carefully after them. After a few twists and turns, he disappeared from sight. Rodney ran until he thought his lungs were going to burst. His legs were cramping and the sweat dripping in his eyes felt like hot pokers. His back was definitely never going to be the same.
“Teyla!” Rodney panted. “Slow down.”
“We are almost there.” Teyla peeked back at him from around the corner she’d just turned. “You can do this.”
Rodney let his head droop but kept running. When he was certain he couldn’t take another step, Teyla grabbed him by the arm and dragged him inside a large door. He stumbled to a stop, sucking in huge gulps of air until his brain caught up with his eyes. Bank after bank of consoles. He moved to the nearest one and felt his heart race harder. Tectonic plate movement analysis and projection. Rodney spun to check the one behind him - glacial temperature manipulation.
“I’ve found the mother lode,” Rodney whispered, bracing his hands on the console. “Systems for-”
“Rodney!”
He glanced up to find Teyla standing in the center of the room, her face pinched tight with worry. “Wha-” Oh, Sheppard. Right. “Coming.” He hustled down to where she was waiting.
“This console controls storm generation. I lowered it as far as it would let me, but I do not know the override to shut it off.”
Rodney studied the display. “Yes, well…” He glanced at her, wondering when she had learned so much about Ancient technology. “Um, good job.”
A flick of her eyes was her only reaction. “Can you shut it off?”
“Yeah.” When Rodney touched the dial, the panel lit purple and switched off. “Huh.”
Teyla stood at his elbow, her face pulling into a frown. “It would not shut down because I lack the Ancestor gene.”
“Guess some settings require it while others don’t.” Rodney moved to the next console and turned it off. “Do you know which station operates this facility?”
“Yes.” Teyla pointed to a grouping in the corner.
Rodney handed her his tablet. “Can you hook this to it and download as much data as possible? I need to know what happened when we arrived so that we can prevent it from happening again.”
She nodded and headed to the controls. Rodney made quick work of the rest of the consoles then walked around them again to confirm each one was off. He wandered past several others on his way to where Teyla was working, checking to see if any of them controlled a portion of the storms that he hadn’t considered because he was seriously opposed to dying in a jumper crash. Satisfied that everything else was data collection and analysis, Rodney joined Teyla at facility operations.
“I have downloaded the past twelve hours of data logs,” Teyla said.
Rodney glanced at his watch. “Good. We’ve only been here about four hours.” He knelt to unclip the connectors. “Any idea where Ronon and Sheppard are?”
Teyla turned to a panel and typed a command. A map appeared. “They are almost to the jumper. We must go.”
Rodney followed her down a long hallway that led to a hub of corridors. Teyla paused and turned slowly, her eyes focused on symbols over each entry. Rodney squinted, sounding out the words. Engineering. Officers’ quarters. Research and development. His mouth went dry. The possibilities…
“This way.” Teyla stood in front of the hub’s one door which opened when they approached.
Ronon was waiting for them at the end of a glimmering hall, still holding Sheppard. “I need help getting him in the jumper.”
“Rodney, prepare to fly us out of here,” Teyla said. “I will help Ronon with John.”
“Okay.” Rodney couldn’t help glancing at Sheppard as he moved to the hatch. “How is he?”
“Still won’t respond,” Ronon answered.
Rodney bobbed his head and climbed into the jumper. He hurried to the pilot’s chair and powered up, blocking out the sounds of Ronon and Teyla maneuvering Sheppard down the ladder and onto a bench in the back. Catatonic didn’t mean brain damage, couldn’t mean brain damage. Sheppard was too strong, too stubborn, too everything for that.
“We are ready, Rodney,” Teyla called from the back.
It wasn’t until he glanced back to make sure the hatch was secured that he realized his eyesight had returned to normal. He breathed a sigh of relief as he detached from the station and dove toward the planet. Storm clouds still covered most of the surface but when they broke through, they found a steady downpour instead of tornadoes and hail.
Rodney headed the gate, dialing as they approached. “Atlantis, this is McKay. Medical emergency. Have a med team meet us in the jumper bay.”
“This is Atlantis. Med team has been notified. You are clear to come through.”
They shot through the wormhole then rotated into the bay where Keller and her team were waiting. After that, everything became a blur of medical personnel and soldiers and needle pricks and questions. Rodney wanted to be pampered and coddled, but each time he opened his mouth to complain about his head, his back, his legs, and the tingling sensation on the right side of his tongue, he caught sight of Sheppard’s unblinking eyes staring at the ceiling. Eventually, Rodney bowed his head and let the sea of people flow around him.
“You okay?”
Rodney flinched hard and looked up to find the triage area empty except for Ronon who was hovering. “Where’d everybody go?”
“Teyla’ll be right back. Said she had something she needed to do.” Ronon strolled to the sofa near the door and plopped down. “Keller took Sheppard that way.” He waved to his left. “Some kind of special scanner.”
Rodney hopped off the gurney and settled on the sofa. “Did she say if she thought he was going to be okay?”
“Nope.”
“No she didn’t say, or no he isn’t going to be fine?”
“She didn’t say.
“Oh.”
Rodney propped his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. Patience was not his strong suit, never had been. He needed to be doing something. Over the years, he’d heard a thousand different opinions on what was the hardest part of being on a team. Without a doubt, for him it was not being in control. He was fine with Sheppard being in charge of the team, knew that he didn’t possess the strategy background or big picture thinking that came naturally to John. But in life and death circumstances, Rodney was the go-to guy. Except in situations like this where all he could do was sit while someone else worked to save the day.
“I think your sister should come visit,” Ronon said.
Rodney blinked, trying to connect the dots. “What?”
“Your sister. I think she should come.”
Rodney’s brain had apparently been damaged by the device because no matter how he tried, he couldn’t make sense of what Ronon was saying. “Why?”
“So Keller can fix her.”
Rodney felt like he’d been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. With everything that had happened, he’d forgotten about Jeannie’s diagnosis. He opened his mouth to explain, but his ability to speak vanished as every horrible thing that could possibly happen raced through his mind.
“I had a sister.”
Rodney sat in stunned silence. In all their years as teammates, Ronon had never mentioned a word to him about his life on Sateda or his family. Rodney glanced out of the corner of his eye at Ronon who was sprawled on the sofa, legs stretched out and head tilted back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The only person Rodney had ever met that came close to being as opposite of him as Ronon was Teal’c. They simply had nothing in common.
Except this.
Rodney cleared his throat. “Older or younger?”
“Older. Teyla reminds me of her.”
“Bossed you around, huh.”
Ronon’s mouth curled upward. “All the time.”
“Must be a sister thing. Jeannie is several years younger and she still does it.”
“Who does what?” Teyla asked as she came through the door.
Rodney glanced at Ronon who flashed a grin then went back to staring at the ceiling. “Nothing,” Rodney answered.
“Has Jennifer returned?”
“Not yet.” Rodney pushed to his feet and began to pace. “I should be doing some…” Horror filled him and he spun around, searching the area. “Oh, my God. My computer! Where’s my computer?” He hurried to the gurney he’d been on. “All the data about the facility, what it did to Sheppard was on it.” He dropped to his knees to look under the bed.
“Rodney.” Teyla pulled on his arm. “Calm down.”
He jerked away from her. “I need that computer! Don’t you understand how bad this is?”
“I gave your computer to Doctor Zelenka.”
“I mean, Sheppard could be dying and I’ve lost…” Rodney turned to stare at her. “You did what?”
“Doctor Zelenka is going through the files we downloaded.” Teyla took his hand and pulled him to his feet. “I did not think you would wish for any time to be wasted.”
“But Zelenka?”
Teyla arched a brow at him. “Do not be rude.”
Rodney heard Ronon snort behind him and couldn’t hold back a grin. For once, he actually knew what the man was thinking. “Zelenka is… adequate.” He looked toward the doors that separated them from Sheppard. “But he’s not me. I’ll be right back.”
He strode to the transporter and headed for his lab, surprised at the cacophony of sound echoing down the hall. He stopped short when he stepped inside. Every scientist under his authority was at a workstation or a table or an unoccupied piece of the floor. Ideas were being bandied about, discoveries were being shouted, and problems were being discussed.
“Ah, Rodney, there you are.” Zelenka pushed through a small group huddled around a monitor. “The data is incredible. We will be analyzing it for months.” He held out a tablet. “This is yours. We have copied all the data to a secure server and to everyone’s laptop. Doctor Kusinagi and her team are going through the information from the medical area where you and Colonel Sheppard were. As soon as we have something, we will notify you and Doctor Keller.”
“Yes, well…” Rodney tried to think of a clever quip or a sarcastic retort, but all that came out was, “Thanks, Radek.”
Zelenka blinked at him in surprise. “You are welcome. Please give Colonel Sheppard our best wishes.”
Rodney nodded and left. By the time he reached the infirmary, Sheppard had been wheeled to a medical bay where Teyla and Ronon had drawn up chairs. Rodney sat down between them, called up the data, and began to read.
oOoOo
The world was out of focus. Sound was distorted. Everything was twisted, unrecognizable. Time had lost meaning. John had a vague memory of walking onto a space station at some point in the haze of the past, but then a thousand knives had skewered his mind and he’d retreated to a dark corner, waiting for his team to save him. The waiting had stretched to some point past eternity, the knives burrowing so deep that he’d had to sever the connection to his body to keep his essence from being ripped to shreds, but even then the pain hovered close enough to steal his breath at times.
Then the pain stopped.
John had remained hidden, certain that it was a trick. But the pain hadn’t returned yet, and he sensed a change around him. So, he uncurled from that place in his mind that held his most precious secrets and took a tentative step. But he couldn’t find his way back. The eyes that had guided him to safety countless times refused to focus, to blink, to move. The ears that had alerted him of danger in two galaxies couldn’t translate the noise that washed over him. Fingers wouldn’t bend. Legs wouldn’t obey.
For one horror-filled moment, John thought Thalen had returned, but he’d been able to see and hear back then even if he couldn’t control it. He hadn’t thought anything could be worse than having someone else controlling his body.
He had been wrong. Having no one control it was worse. Much worse.
In his mind, he screamed for help as he searched relentlessly for the magical connection with his body, begging for release from his prison. Exhausted, he let himself drift in the nothingness. Only then did he notice the images around him - racing Dave to the stables to see who would get to ride Maddox, flying lessons with Granddad, the sizzle of kissing Nancy for the first time, being promoted to captain and squad leader. Stepping through the stargate. Flying a city in space.
Introducing Teyla to popcorn and Ferris wheels. Teaching Ronon how to surf. Plotting practical jokes with Rodney. Laughing at Carson’s McKay impersonation until tears streaked his face. Teaching Elizabeth the intricate dance steps of the Bucres harvest ceremony and screwing it up so Ronon would have to take his place. Asking Lorne to draw caricatures of the senior staff at the annual Atlantis PlayDay then spending a week’s wage to buy the ones of his team.
Watching Teyla watch Torren. Flying Ronon to Sateda to search through the rubble and pretending to not see the tears. Tweaking the jumpers’ controls until they responded more quickly to Rodney. Finally removing his team from the team Olympics so someone else could win. Late night star-gazing. Movie nights. Satedan death rituals. Athosian blanket weaving. Holidays. Birthdays.
The god-awful shirt Teyla had given him. Putting the entire contents of Rodney’s room on his balcony. Convincing Ronon to try on Carson’s kilt then plastering the pictures all over the Mess.
“Sh-p-d?”
The blur around him sharpened then faded. John heard a distinct beep in the roar of sound.
“Ca… me, She…”
Antiseptic, bitter and stinging, filled his nostrils. His fingers tingled. Something cold brushed against the inside of his arm.
“Wake…”
John blinked and the brown blur hovering over him turned into Ronon. When he realized his eyelids had actually moved, the beeping sped up. Ronon leaned closer, and John thought his heart would burst when he felt the pressure of two hands on the sides of his face.
“Can you hear me, Sheppard?”
John slowly and deliberately closed his eyes and opened them again.
Ronon’s grin threatened to split his face in two. “Knew I wasn’t hearing things. You were laughing.”
The image of Ronon in that kilt flashed in John’s mind, and he felt his body shake as the laughter rolled through him again.
One hand moved from his face to somewhere out of range. “Doc should be here in a second.” Ronon squinted at him. “You remember anything?”
A flash of light. Knives in his brain. John shuddered and closed his eyes against the pain.
The hand returned, gripping his neck and face. “Open your eyes, John.” The grip tightened. “Come on, buddy. We just got you back. You’re home. Safe.”
Safe. John forced his eyes open and locked gazes with Ronon. “Team?”
Ronon’s eyes widened at the hoarse whisper. “We’re good. Teyla is feeding Torren, and McKay’s in his lab doing science stuff.”
The beeping slowed slightly. When the privacy curtain slid open, Ronon stepped back to let Keller near. After a vitals check and the dreaded penlight, Keller performed a sensory exam then tested his reflexes and hearing. By the time she finished, John was sitting upright and mentally rehearsing his plea for a cheeseburger.
Keller smiled and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. “Everything appears normal, but I’d like to keep you overnight for observation, if that’s okay.”
John wiggled against the soft pillow and plucked at the fuzzy blanket, relishing in the feel of everything. “Sure, Doc.” He hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer. “What happened to me?”
“I’ll have to leave the technical details to Rodney. The short version is the moon, space station, whatever it was, recognized you and Rodney as having the ATA gene so it beamed you to the medical facility where a device began a memory dump.”
John winced as the sensation of stabbing knives returned. “What memories was it trying to take?”
Keller tipped her head to the side. “According to the information Rodney downloaded, it wasn’t trying to take anything. He says the device was designed to copy your memories and store them in the database for further analysis.”
“Hell of a way to get a mission report,” John muttered. “Could’ve just asked.”
“I’ve read reports of Ancient devices that did the opposite - actually downloaded information into human brains, almost killing the person involved.” Keller’s expression turned grim. “The problem is being human instead of Ancient. Our brains are not capable of the same activity as the Ancients.”
John let that soak in. “So, if I’d been an Ancient…”
“In all likelihood, the process would have quick and painless.”
“And McKay?” If the machine had hurt him that much, what had it done to Rodney?
Keller glanced at Ronon, obviously trying to hide a smile. “He is fine.”
Ronon chuckled. “He’s pissed. Guess the thing had a harder time working on him because his gene is fake.”
Keller’s shoulders began to shake. “He, uh…” She pinched her nose, swallowing a laugh. “His mind interpreted the device as a woman trying to trap him.”
John grinned at the image of McKay running from a woman who wanted him for his mind. Then the smile faded as the full implications hit him. “And if she, I mean the device had finally pinned him down?”
The humor left Keller’s face. “It did. He said she pinned him just as Ronon hit reset. If Ronon hadn’t reset it before the download started… Well, it was the only thing that saved his mind. And yours.”
“I don’t understand.”
Ronon’s eyes darkened. “Teyla and I couldn’t see the controls to turn it off. McKay says it was some kind of safeguard against non-Ancients trying to use it. Teyla couldn’t even find the reset button.”
John looked to Keller. “Her Wraith DNA?”
“I think so. We know Ancient tech has a mental component. I guess it can affect those without the gene if it wants.”
“Or maybe the Ancients learned something from the Wraith,” Ronon suggested. “The way they can make you see stuff that isn’t there.”
“That’s possible,” Keller said. “We really need to go back and study the facility.”
John shook his head. “Too dangerous.”
“Only to those with the ATA gene. Or Wraith DNA,” Keller added.
Fear tingled in John’s chest. “What happened to Teyla?”
“The place beamed her to a stasis chamber in another section,” Ronon said.
“No experiments or anything?”
“Nope. And before you ask, it didn’t do anything to me.” Ronon grinned. “I guess it didn’t think a plain human was much of a threat.”
“Guess you showed it.”
Ronon’s grinned widened. “Yep.”
“I’ll leave you boys to it. Call me if you need anything.” Keller patted John’s shoulder a final time and left, passing Teyla who was wreathed in smiles.
“It is good to see you awake, John.” Teyla pressed her forehead to his. “We have been concerned.”
“Me, too,” John replied, relieved to see her whole and healthy, just like Ronon had said. “How long have we been home?”
Teyla released a shaky breath and stepped back. “Two very long days.”
“Two days? No wonder I’m starving.”
“Perhaps a cheeseburger would help?”
“Absolutely. With lots of…” John narrowed his eyes. “Am I that predictable?”
“Yes. In fact,” she glanced over her shoulder at the empty spot where Ronon had been, “I believe it should be here soon. With lots of onion.”
Secretly delighted that his team knew him well enough to know his favorite indulgence, he asked, “What if I was going to say I wanted extra tomato?”
Teyla smiled indulgently. “Since you remove the tomato every time, I doubt you would have said that. However, Ronon is only a radio call away. If you wish extra tomato…”
“No, no. I prefer onion.”
“That is good to hear.” Teyla glanced over her shoulder again then perched on the side of his bed and lowered her voice. “Ronon is finally allowing himself to grieve over all he lost. I believe he requires our help.”
John tilted his head in confusion. “What kind of help?”
“Help to let go. He has mentioned many different rituals and ceremonies, including one that releases the spirit of a loved one.” Teyla’s gaze lost focus and her voice softened. “The release is really more for the one left behind. A way to be free of the pain of the past.”
Something they could all use. “What do we have to do?”
“I am unsure of the specifics, but I believe Elizabeth kept detailed recordings of what Ronon shared of his homeworld.” Teyla smiled sadly. “We would need to go to Sateda.”
John didn’t hesitate. “Whatever it takes. You find out what we need to do and I’ll arrange the trip.”
“A trip?” McKay’s voice preceded him into the curtained area. “You’ve been a vegetable for two days,” he stalked inside, “and you want to take a trip?”
“Well, not right now, Rodney,” John drawled. “Maybe after dinner.”
“I knew it. You have brain damage. Severe damage, judging by your asinine idea of flying a jumper after an Ancient device almost ate your brain.”
Teyla giggled then pressed her hand to her ear. “Excuse me for a moment. Apparently Torren has spilled a jar of dye on his head.”
McKay watched her leave. “You sure that kid isn’t yours?”
“Rodney!” John glared at him. “I hope I’m there when she breaks you in half.”
McKay shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m just saying he acts more like you than her.” He plopped in a chair and folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe you should stop spending so much time with him.”
John opened his mouth, a verbal dart ready to fire, but hesitated. He and Rodney had made arguing an art form, but this felt different. The mischievous glint in McKay’s eyes was missing, and the edge to his voice was sharper than usual. “Spit it out.”
McKay shifted slightly. “Spit what out?”
“Whatever has your drawers in a knot, McKay.”
“I do not have my drawers in a knot, thank you very much.” McKay’s ears turned red, a sure sign he was lying, and his fingers fisted in his shirtsleeves. “I just don’t want to have to listen to the kid cry when you leave.”
“When I leave?” John gaped at McKay. “What the hell are you talking about?”
McKay’s lips thinned and whitened. “That offer from O’Neill.”
John stared in confusion until his abused brain dredged up O’Neill’s email. “Oh.”
“Yes, oh.”
“Wait a minute. That was an eyes-only communiqué.”
McKay snorted. “Like that isn’t a neon sign flashing, ‘Read me, Rodney.’ You didn’t seriously think I would let that go by.”
John hadn’t actually thought about it. The shock had washed all clear thought from his mind.
“The thing is, I haven’t spotted your reply,” McKay continued. “What’s the holdup?”
“Haven’t made a decision.”
“So, you are considering it.”
And John could hear it - the slight waver in his voice that only showed up when he was hurt and trying not to show it. “I have to. He’s a superior officer.”
“And yet it wasn’t an order. Strange, that. Didn’t know the Air Force gave you a choice.”
“They do sometimes.” But this was an exception. O’Neill was an unorthodox officer and former SG team leader. He knew what it meant to walk away from a team. O’Neill wasn’t going to force him to do it.
McKay took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, dropping his arms and leaning forward. “It’s a great opportunity, John. What’s the problem?”
“If you read that communiqué, you know what the problem is.”
“Yeah, I can see how helping develop military strategy for all stargate operations and specifically Pegasus could be a problem.”
John studied McKay for a moment, calculating the odds of him dropping it. Not likely. “Do you understand what that means?”
“I am a genius, Sheppard. I assure you I understand what that means, probably better than you.”
“O’Neill wants to develop a cohesive military approach for all bases of operations. That’s every outpost in the Milky Way, the expeditions they’ve sent to the Ori and Asgard galaxies and all the garrisons they are planning on establishing in Pegasus.”
“Yes, yes, and you would be traveling all over Pegasus and back to Earth on a regular basis which means you’d be too busy to be on an exploratory team. I get that. If you’re worried about us, stop being an idiot. Teyla has her family and her people. I’ve got a staff of minions that need my constant supervision, and you know that Ronon could lead his own team. Again I ask, what’s the problem?”
Everything McKay said was true. He’d been telling himself the same thing for the past week. The problem wasn’t them. The problem was him. He wasn’t sure he could let them go. He would still see them, but only sporadically. Plus what they had now - this bond of team, of family - would slowly fade. On the other hand, O’Neill had asked for John because he needed someone who really knew what was going on in Pegasus, someone he trusted to tell him the truth and not what he wanted to hear. Having O’Neill’s ear, shaping military strategy, making decisions for Pegasus based on the recommendations of people like Teyla and Ronon could do more to protect his friends than anything he could do alone.
Rodney leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Of course, not being in the field would suck. I bet it was a hard transition for O’Neill. Then again, he was at least fifteen years older than you when he stepped away from his team.” He rolled his head to the side and gazed at John. “You still have a few good years left.”
John’s brows shot up. “A few? You and I are the same age.”
“Who told you that?”
“You mean you think you’re the only one who can hack a file?”
McKay sat up straight. “I’m going to banish Zelenka to the waste management system for the rest of his life.”
John rolled his eyes. “And you’re calling me an idiot? You told me what year you were born in when you gave me your computer password.”
“And you remembered it?”
John folded his hands behind his head and grinned.
“What are you going to tell O’Neill?”
“O’Neill?” Ronon strolled in with the juiciest burger John had seen in ages; he tried not to drool. “That general who helped us get back here from Earth?”
John swallowed, doing his best to not look pathetic. “Yeah, him. Thanks for getting that, big guy.”
Ronon dragged a chair over and sprawled in it. “Who says this is for you?”
“Aw, come on. I’m starving.”
“You haven’t answered the man’s question yet.”
Teyla walked in, holding a sniffling Torren whose hair and face were covered in bright green. “We have been waiting for your answer for a week.”
John looked from one to the other, a strange mix of relief and embarrassment whirling inside him. He really should have known. They let him pretend he had secrets, but they had learned to see through him a long time ago. They were more than a team. They were family, and O’Neill had known it. Which was why he’d given John an out. If John didn’t want the assignment, O’Neill would offer it to Lorne. They had worked together at the SGC, and O’Neill trusted him. A trust that John shared. Lorne had great respect for Teyla and Ronon, and he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. Pegasus would be well represented.
“I’m not going anywhere. Now, hand over that burger.”
The End.