Story: Figments
Story: Figments
Word Count: ~9400
Genre: Gen, HC, Whump
Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagan
Warnings: Whump with some HC. Minor profanity
Summary: Are routine missions ever routine with Sheppard’s team? Never! Nothing like a little trouble to keep the team on their toes!
Written for the sheppard_hc Summer Pic Challenge.
Figments
Listen to your intuition. It will tell you everything you need to know.
~Anthony J. D'Angelo
“This is a complete and utter waste of my time! You do realize that, right?”
John kicked a rock, momentarily entertaining the fantasy that it was actually Rodney’s head. “No, actually, I didn’t catch that part the last five times you said it, Rodney,” he shot back, refusing to look over his shoulder at his teammate. The hot, desert air admittedly made him grouchy and the sweat trickling down his back didn’t help, nor did Rodney’s bitching.
“I did.”
Ronon’s statement was more a growl than anything. John wondered how much more the big man would endure before taking action… and he briefly wondered if he’d actually intervene. John sighed, dismissing the thought. “Just… we get it, Rodney, but this is what we do.” He waved ahead of him at the ruins scattered across the rocky hillside. “We explore.”
“No,” Rodney countered, his annoyance as strong as ever. “This is what science teams do. We explore ruins that have at least an iota of potentially useful technology to help us in our fight against the Wraith… or the Replicators… or anything else this galaxy decides to throw at us. This,” he paused only to take a quick breath, “this is a waste of our time. There is no technology here, no energy readings, not even any indigenous people. This is an archeological venture and certainly not a mission for the Alpha team!”
“McKay!” John barked, kicking another rock, this time harder and interrupting Rodney before he could continue. “Don’t make me shoot you.”
“Yeah, right,” Rodney snorted. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would,” Ronon interrupted quietly.
“Yeah… uhh… well…” Rodney stammered.
John kept walking and smiled just slightly, before the moment of dark humor passed. “And knock it off with the Alpha team crap. We’re no more important than any other team on Atlantis.” He stopped, turned and stared hard at Rodney. Though his eyes were hidden by his sunglasses, he had no doubt his best ‘quit with the bullshit’ expression was making itself very clear. “We all do these missions.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the ruins. “No civilian team is going near that place until we’ve checked it out.” He lifted his P-90 and turned away. “Discussion closed.” Continuing towards a long, steep switchback that led up to the ruins, John glanced at Teyla who walked along beside him. “You’re quiet,” he observed.
Teyla smiled. “I have nothing more to add, that Ronon has not already said.”
John chuckled as Teyla fell in behind him and he started up the first level of the narrow switchback, running east to west across the hillside. As he turned the corner and started up the second level, he looked at the ruins. “Quite a hike.”
“Makes it defensible,” Ronon answered.
John nodded. “Yeah, I’d hate to attack this place on foot.” He pointed to the tops of a set of crumbling buildings, set lower in the hill than the others. “Could put snipers there and pick off anyone attacking.”
“More like archers from the looks of this place,” Rodney corrected. “There’s nothing on the Life Signs Detector, not that I’d expect to find anything.”
“Except funky alien predators,” John quipped, “but that never happens to us.”
“Oh, no,” Rodney replied, his voice equally as sarcastic, “never. Unless you count the saber tooth felines on Lantea’s southern continent, or the crazy, monkey things on P4X-882. Oh and let’s not forget the Warags. Those always make any mission complete.”
“So… no readings, right?” John could practically hear Rodney checking his detector again.
“Right,” Rodney answered.
“Too bad,” Ronon sounded disappointed. “Could use a rematch with some Warags.”
John took a quick mental inventory of the scars he carried from Warag encounters and winced a little. “Maybe next time,” he answered dryly. He rounded another corner and stopped, looking out across a huge valley. “Wow.” Haze clouded their view, but even through that, he could see the majesty of rolling hills and mountains that stretched into the horizon. “Could get used to that view.”
“Impressive,” Teyla agreed.
John just smiled. He’d always had a thing for the wilderness and had relished wide open spaces ever since he was a kid. If there was one thing most of the planets in Pegasus seemed to have, it was wide open spaces. While the reasons why planets in this galaxy weren’t overpopulated were dark and scary, to say the least, the sprawling wilderness on so many planets appealed to him. He took a deep breath. “Come on.” Turning he headed back across the hillside, ducking under the branches of a tree that had somehow found a way to flourish in the dry, rocky soil.
Completing another switchback, John paused and looked over the path ahead of him. Somewhere along the way, part of the step up to the next level had given way, obliterating the gradual incline, and leaving a small landslide of rocks and dirt in its place. “Looks pretty unstable.” He carefully walked forward, his boots sinking in the dirt and slipping more than he liked. He let go of his P-90, letting it hang from his vest and freeing his hands. “Careful, guys.” He stopped, lifting his hands a little to balance as his feet slipped again in the loose debris. “Probably best to do this one at a time.”
“Is now a good time to point out, again, that we should’ve brought a jumper?” Rodney asked as he stowed his detector in his vest before fixing John with an annoyed look.
“Not really, no,” John answered. “Look around, Rodney. If you can tell me exactly where I would’ve landed it, besides on top of an ancient crumbling building, or at the bottom of the hill, in which case we’d still be hiking up through here, then I’ll be happy to tell you that you’re right.”
Rodney grunted. “Point,” he muttered.
Holding his hands out, John carefully took another step, working his way across the small debris field towards the solid ground of the next level. Reaching up, he found a good handhold on the level above him and steadied himself the last couple steps up to the next level. He stopped, turned and brushed his hands on his pant legs. “Okay, it’s a little tricky, but doable. Just take it slow and easy, one at a time.” His eyes narrowed intensely as Teyla slowly made her way up to him, followed by Rodney and finally Ronon. As the big man neared them, the unstable debris shifted, throwing him off balance.
“Ronon!” John’s reaction was reflexive as he reached out, grabbing Ronon’s sword harness where it crossed the front of his shoulder. Pulled off balance by his teammate’s weight, his hand shot up, latching onto the level above them. Digging his fingers into the dirt, John stabilized himself, his grip on Ronon never wavering. Ronon, for his part, made good on the assistance and quickly found his balance, and his way onto solid ground. John released him and took a deep breath. “You okay?”
Ronon cocked his head and smiled slightly. “Yeah, thanks.”
John returned the smile. “Anytime, big guy, just…” his voice trailed off as a searing pain shot through his right hand, still resting on the level above them. “OW!” He snatched back his hand and staggered into Ronon, who held fast, steadying him. John clutched his hand in agony. It felt like someone had jabbed a red hot knife into the space between his thumb and first finger and he doubled over in pain, in spite of Ronon’s strong grip on his arms. “Gah! Son of a bitch that hurts!”
“John?” Teyla took a step towards him. “What is it? What is wrong?”
“Something bit me!” John shook his throbbing left hand. “Or stung me or… something!”
“Stung?” Rodney’s voice held a note of panic. He flinched and quickly scanned the air around them. “Bees? I remind you that I’m deathly allergic…”
“McKay!” John managed, still clenching his throbbing hand. “I’m the one that’s stung here. Check the paranoia!”
Rodney immediately straightened. “Right.” He patted around on his vest. “I have an epi pen….”
“John,” Teyla’s voice was quiet and calm. “Sit down.”
John looked at her for a moment and took a deep breath, before easing to the ground. He leaned his head back against the dirt wall behind him, closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing heart.
“How do you feel?” Teyla asked.
John opened his eyes, his gaze following her as she crouched next to him, gently taking his injured hand and scrutinizing it closely. “Besides feeling like someone stabbed a hot knife into my hand?” he answered. “Fine.” His eyes narrowed as he concentrated for a moment, taking stock of himself and looking for any other symptoms. “I don’t think I’m allergic.”
A small smile turned up the corners of Teyla’s mouth and she let go of his hand. “That is good. But rest for a few minutes just to be sure.”
John looked over at Ronon, who was intently scanning the level above them. “Anything?”
Ronon shook his head. “No. Whatever it was, it’s too small to spot, or it left.”
John’s gaze dropped to Rodney, who crouched beside Teyla.
“You sure you’re okay?” Rodney held up his epi pen. “I have this.”
John’s mind raced through the list of side effects from an epinephrine dose, drilled into his head by Carson, and winced. “Yeah,” he answered, “I’d rather avoid that if I can.”
Rodney nodded. “I don’t blame you. Heart palpitations. Not fun. Trust me. Voice of experience here.”
John took a deep breath and looked down at his hand. A red, swollen welt dominated the lose skin between his thumb and forefinger and his entire hand throbbed, but other than that, he still felt okay. He took that as a positive sign, knowing that if he was going to have an anaphylactic reaction, he’d probably be feeling it by now. “Looks like a sting of some sort.” He observed. “Really, I think I’m okay here.” Leaning forward, he pulled his legs under himself and felt Ronon’s strong grip on his upper arm as he slowly stood.
“Perhaps we should return to Atlantis and have Carson look at your hand,” Teyla ventured.
John shook his head. “Nah, really, I’m okay.” He looked up at the ruins, only two levels above them. “We’re almost there. Let’s just make sure this place checks out. Then we can get the engineers to shore up the path and turn the archeologists lose on it, while we move on to other things.”
“A thought that is appealing to say the least,” Rodney added.
Teyla was silent a moment before nodding. She reached into one of her vest pockets and pulled out a chemical ice pack. Punching the center, she shook it vigorously, mixing the chemicals before handing it to John. “Here.”
John smiled. “Thanks.” He gently laid the pack over the welt, wincing. The cold hurt for a moment but then felt pretty good. “Let’s go. Ronon, take point while I’m one-handed here.”
Ronon nodded. “Got it.” He walked off across the switchback and John fell in right behind him as they moved along the last switchback, leading to the first set of ruins.
John ducked under the branches of a couple trees and looked up at the lone standing wall from a building long destroyed. Three crescent shaped windows dominated the top of the structure, and unusual writing and pictures, faded by relentless weather, crisscrossed the bottom. “Don’t recognize the writing,” he commented, scanning the faded paint.
“Huh,” Rodney grunted. “I don’t either. Definitely not Ancient.”
John looked at Teyla questioningly, but she shook her head.
“No, it is unfamiliar to me as well,” she affirmed. “The inhabitants of this planet have been gone for a very long time; there is no record of them amongst my people. Perhaps it is a language that is no longer used.”
John nodded. “Something for the archeologists to discuss. Move on.” He lifted the ice pack off his hand and flexed his fingers experimentally. The sting was still swollen, but didn’t appear to be getting worse. His index finger and thumb were a little stiff, but otherwise he figured he was okay. He shoved the warming ice pack in a vest pocket and took point.
Reaching the next level of ruins took a little scrambling on their part through the loose rocks and dirt along the side of the wall, but it wasn’t far until they reached flat and relatively stable ground. John stopped and looked up at a short set of stairs, leading into a large building still relatively intact. The building had several joined modules and what looked like three or four levels. His gaze narrowed and he reflexively tensed as his instincts went on point. Slowly, he lifted his gun as he turned, looking around the quiet ruins.
“What is wrong?” Teyla raised her gun in response.
John’s lips tightened. He couldn’t put words to his gut feeling, but it didn’t make it any less real. A career of combat and covert missions had taught him to listen to his instincts and he couldn’t dismiss their insistent warning. “Something,” he answered quietly. “I don’t know but…” he shook his head slightly. “There’s something.”
Ronon turned in a slow circle. “I don’t see anything.” He looked back at Sheppard for a long moment before drawing his gun. “But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing there.”
“Well, there is nothing there,” Rodney answered, staring at his Life Signs Detector. “Nothing but us.”
“I do not sense anything,” Teyla answered.
“Okay, so no Wraith,” John shook his head again, this time insistently. “But I still don’t like it. Something’s…” he paused, groping for the right words, and finally settling on the only inadequate reply he could think of. “Not right.”
“Not right,” Rodney muttered, poking a couple buttons on his detector. “Not helpful. I swear Sheppard, you’re getting paranoid.”
John glared at Rodney. “I am not paranoid.” He sighed deeply in frustration and lowered his gun. “Fine. Let’s get this done.” He turned and started up the stairs to the entrance into the weathered building.
“Wait,” Rodney protested. “Do you think that’s such a good idea, I mean, now?”
John stopped, turned and looked back, fixing Rodney with a cold stare. He couldn’t shake the feeling in his gut, even if there was no evidence to support it, and that feeling made him edgy. “Why not?” He waved at Rodney’s detector. “You’re the one insisting nothing’s out there.”
“Yeah, but…”
“No buts,” John interrupted. “Let’s do this.” He turned and continued up the stairs, but with each step, the feeling of dread in his gut intensified. Crap, John, you really are paranoid! Chastising himself, he continued on, his team right behind him.
John paused at the shadowy entrance and flipped on his P-90 light. He scanned the immediate area inside the doorway, but only quiet darkness greeted his search. “McKay?”
“Still clear,” Rodney answered. “You’re good to go.”
John nodded. “Okay, we do a quick building by building search, just to verify everything is safe. I want a brief look at the rooms and structural integrity. If it all checks out, we can green light this one for the scientists and let them poke at the details.”
“Sounds good to me,” Ronon answered.
One side of John’s mouth turned up slightly at the bored and annoyed tone to Ronon’s voice. He made a mental note to never assign the Satedan scientific babysitting duties. “C’mon.” He slowly walked through the entrance and into the darkness. Behind him, three more streams of light added to his and Teyla’s gun light and flashlights from Rodney and Ronon. John aimed his light upwards, panning it across the ceiling. “Looks stable,” he commented.
“Agreed,” Rodney answered. “As far as I can tell from these readings, it’s structurally sound.”
John nodded to himself, all the while trying to quell his instinctive wariness that was rapidly becoming a full-blown warning. Something was there, he knew it. He didn’t know what or where, but something was out there. But, if something was there, McKay’s detector would show it. Ronon and Teyla, who had instincts that put his to shame, would sense it too. But it was only him and he had nothing to go on except his gut. Logically, it made no sense, but still, he couldn’t dismiss it. His instincts warred with his rational mind and it left him torn, tense and jumpy. Damn it! “Next room.” He fought to keep his voice normal and calm.
They passed through a door and into another room and a light sheen of sweat broke out on John’s forehead. Adrenaline surged through him, unbidden and unwanted. Almost desperately, he clung to the rational thoughts in his head. There’s nothing there… there’s nothing there… but the mantra did nothing to calm him.
Abruptly, he staggered to a stop, reflexively raising his gun and fighting to see anything in the oppressive darkness as his instincts utterly and completely overwhelmed any rational thought. Voices reached his ears, pleading with him, questioning him. Couldn’t they see the danger? Sense it? It was there! “No!” He roared, spinning. He fixed his gun on the first target in front of him, squeezed the trigger…
… and then ran for his life.
-------------------------------------------
Rodney felt like he was watching everything in slow motion and for a moment, his mind couldn’t process what he was seeing. There was no way Sheppard was shooting at any of them and there was no way he was turning, running and leaving them behind in the dark, stunned and confused.
“Ronon!” Teyla’s frightened voice echoed off the high ceilings.
Rodney spun, his breaths coming fast and heavy and in that moment, the slow motion turn of events in the last ten seconds snapped and the world spun around him. Rodney turned again, training his flashlight on Sheppard’s retreating back until he was swallowed up by the darkness, flashlight and all. “Sheppard!” He looked down focusing his light on Teyla who was pressing a thick bandage into Ronon’s arm. “Oh god! He shot you!”
“Ronon?” She repeated, her voice urgent.
Wincing, Ronon lifted his head. “It’s okay.”
“You are bleeding.” Teyla answered in a no-nonsense tone of voice. She quickly turned her head and looked around. “Colonel Sheppard?”
“He’s gone,” Rodney answered. Swallowing against a dry throat, he knelt next to Teyla and shone his light on Ronon’s wound.
Carefully, Teyla peeled back the bandage and sighed quietly. “He only grazed you. It is not serious.”
With his good hand, Ronon pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Told you.”
Teyla’s gaze narrowed at her teammate. “You are not always… entirely honest in situations such as this.” She looked at Rodney. “Hold this.”
Rodney nodded and held the bandage as Teyla secured it around Ronon’s arm. Rodney’s mind raced. What happened to Sheppard? “What the hell is going on with him?” Rodney shook his head.
“Why would he shoot me?” Ronon asked.
“Well, I could think of a half a dozen reasons,” Rodney snapped back, “but that’s beside the point. It has to be that sting, or bite or whatever.”
“We cannot be certain, Rodney,” Teyla answered as she sat back on her heels.
“It’s the only logical answer,” Rodney insisted. “He was fine until that happened. It was only a couple minutes later that he started to change.” Rodney took several deep breaths as he tried to get a handle on his racing mind and organize his thoughts.
“He thought something was nearby when there was not,” Teyla answered quietly. “That is when it started.”
Rodney’s racing mind screeched to a halt. “Delusions.” He looked first at Teyla and then Ronon. “He’s hallucinating or… or something….”
“We gotta find him.” Ronon pushed himself to his knees and slowly stood.
“Are you kidding me?” Rodney stared incredulously up at him. “God knows what he sees when he sees us, but whatever it is, he thinks he needs to kill it. And you want to run off after him in pitch black ruins? Have you lost your mind?” Rodney took a quick breath and plowed on. “Granted, key parts of Sheppard’s service record are sealed, but we’ve seen enough to know the man is black ops trained and lethal. What you’re suggesting is crazy!”
Unmoving and expressionless, Ronon just stared back at him for a long moment, before looking down at Teyla, who nodded slightly. He looked back at Rodney. “What choice do we have?”
Rodney sagged and sunk back on his heels, his mind still racing, but he couldn’t think of a single, alternative answer to Ronon’s simple question. He dropped his head and knew in that moment that if their positions were reversed, Sheppard would do the same thing for any one of them.
“Rodney, it is likely that there is some sort of venom or poison causing this reaction in John,” Teyla reasoned. “If so, then it is possible there will be other side effects, even some that could kill him, we do not know. But we cannot leave him to find out on his own.”
Slowly, Rodney nodded. He looked up at Teyla. “You’re right,” he answered quietly. Reaching into his vest, he pulled out his detector. “I’m showing one life sign, quite a ways ahead of us, deeper in the ruins. That has to be Sheppard.”
“That’s where we need to go,” Ronon drew his gun and expertly set it to stun. Lifting his flashlight, he slowly walked in the direction Sheppard had run only a few minutes earlier.
“Hopefully, we can detect him before he sees us.” Rodney looked at Teyla and sighed quietly.
Teyla smiled thinly and followed Ronon.
Taking one, last moment to look around, Rodney wordlessly fell in behind her.
------------------------
John staggered to a stop, turning in a wide circle as his light sliced through the oppressive darkness that surrounded him. He’d taken one Wraith in the arm, but knew that meant nothing. They were back there… somewhere… hunting him. He looked down, his gaze centering on the shaking circle of light on the floor coming from his lowered gun and frowned. The light would give him away, but in the absolute darkness, he couldn’t make his way without it. His head snapped up, drawn to the faint sound of scuffling coming towards him. His gaze narrowed.
Wraith.
He’d survived Taliban, North Korean soldiers and Al-Qaeda terrorists. He’d even survived the Wraith, more than once, in this damned galaxy. He wasn’t about to give up now, not without a fight. Again, he panned his light around the room, this time slowly, looking for the walls and anything else that might be hidden by the darkness. His light froze on a large chunk of rubble and he smiled slightly, darkly.
Crossing the room, he knelt behind the rubble, rested his P-90 on the top of the rough remains of a wall, aimed it in the direction of the doorway and flipped off the light.
He’d fought in the dark before, even without night vision goggles and that skill, honed in the heat of battle and the struggle to survive, had burned itself into his memory and branded itself on his reflexes. The years since he’d been forced to use these skills faded away and he fell into a familiar mindset, like it’d been yesterday. He took a deep breath, listened…
… and waited.
----------------------------------
“Not far now,” Rodney whispered as he slowed his pace. “Sheppard’s in the next room.” As they approached the doorway, Teyla and Rodney went to the right side, while Ronon took the left. Rodney looked over at Ronon as the big man leaned against the door frame and slowly peeked around it, scanning his light across the room. He looked at Teyla and shook his head.
Teyla carefully looked into the room. “John? It is Teyla. Ronon and Rodney are here with me. We will not hurt you. Please, show yourself. You are injured and we want to help you.”
Rodney tried not to hold his breath as the seconds dragged by in silence. Teyla looked back at Rodney, prompting him to look down at his scanner. He shook his head. “Nope. Hasn’t moved.” His gaze found her concerned one again. “He could be unconscious.”
Teyla’s gaze left his and fixed on Ronon. Silently, the two nodded at each other. Teyla looked back at Rodney. “Stay here. Let us know if he moves.”
Rodney nodded. “Right.” He glanced at Ronon.
Ronon’s shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath and carefully stepped around the corner and into the room, his gun raised, and flashlight scanning the area in front of him. Teyla was a step behind and broke right as Ronon broke left.
Left on his own, Rodney cautiously peeked around the corner and shone his light directly down the middle of the room, illuminating the dark area left by Ronon and Teyla’s split. Slowly, he scanned his light across the floor, towards the back of the room and the next doorway. The smooth floor was interrupted by a rough mound of rubble and as he scanned his light up the side of it, an abnormal reflection gave him pause. Rodney’s gaze narrowed and he moved his light back to the location of the abnormality. Zeroing in on it, the mystery disappeared as, with cold clarity, he knew exactly what he was seeing.
The flashlight of a P-90.
“There!” He shouted and on the heels of his warning, Sheppard’s head popped up. Even through the dim light, Rodney could see the cold, maniacal look in Sheppard’s eyes, an instant before he opened fire on Rodney’s position.
Rodney dove back behind the wall, P-90 bullets splintering the rock doorframe just to the left of his head. “Sheppard!” he shouted in vain.
Abruptly, the sound of P-90 fire was drowned out by the repeated blasts of Ronon’s gun and when the P-90 fire resumed, the shots were aimed away from Rodney. He heard the scramble of feet on rock, two more shots by Ronon’s gun and then, silence.
Rodney slowly lowered his arms, lifted his head and looked around. “Ronon? Teyla?”
“Clear!” Teyla’s voice answered him.
Rodney hastily scrambled to his feet and dashed into the room. He looked around, first at Ronon and then Teyla, who were both pushing themselves up from prone positions on the ground and seemed unscathed. “Sheppard?”
“Gone,” Ronon answered, frustrated. “Couldn’t get a clean shot at him.”
“He ambushed us,” Teyla shook her head.
“How the hell did he manage that in his condition?” Rodney demanded. “I didn’t think he was lucid enough to think that straight. At least, he didn’t seem to be.”
“Apparently, we were all mistaken,” Teyla answered. “It would appear whatever is afflicting him, has altered his mind, but not affected his cognitive process.”
“Great. Still capable of strategic and tactical thought processes. That makes him incredibly dangerous,” Rodney answered. “At least if he was out of his mind, we could probably expect him doing something irrational that we could take advantage of, but this, this is different.” He looked down at his detector. “We were damned lucky, this time.” He shook his head at the swiftly moving dot. “He’s still on the move.”
Ronon sighed loudly. “Let’s go.”
Rodney shook his head. Who could say Sheppard wouldn’t do the same thing again? There had to be a better way. “Wait.”
Ronon paused. “What?”
“This is crazy,” Rodney answered as he punched a couple keys on the detector. “We can’t just keep following him and walking into traps, or he’s going to end up killing one or all of us!”
“You have a better idea?” Ronon asked, annoyed, “because the longer we stand here, the farther away he gets.”
“I might!” Rodney shot back, sparing Ronon a glare before returning his attention to the detector. “Just… give me a minute here.” Abruptly, the display changed, the range expanded to show an extended floor plan of the rooms around them. “Ah ha!” He kept his attention on the detector but still heard both Ronon and Teyla walk up next to him.
“What is it?” Teyla asked.
Rodney shook his head. “This place is a maze. Most of the rooms have more than one entrance. We might be able to catch Sheppard off guard and stun him before he can shoot back at us if we plan this right.” Rodney looked up at Ronon, allowing himself a slight, but still smug smile. “Tip the scales in our favor, instead of his.”
One side of Ronon’s mouth turned up, just slightly, and he nodded.
“Good idea, Rodney,” Teyla answered. “Do we know where he is?”
Rodney pointed at the dot, slowing its pace as it entered another, large room. “That’s him, he’s slowed down. Probably thinks he has a good head start on us, which he does. If he stops there, we should be able to determine an alternate route to that room. It has two other entrances besides the one Sheppard used.”
“Very well,” Teyla nodded. “Which way?”
Rodney lifted his flashlight and panned left along the wall, until he illuminated a crumbled door. “That way.”
“Let’s go.” Ronon immediately took point.
Rodney followed behind, alternating his sight between the ground in front of him, and the detector as he quickly mapped out their route. “Hope this works,” he muttered to no one in particular.
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John staggered to a stop, his breaths coming deep and fast, echoing off the high ceiling above him and the walls of the large, empty room around him. His senses were on high alert, prickles running up and down his skin. Each shift of air, scrabble of small rodents, drip of water-none of it went unnoticed by him.
He reached up, wiping a line of sweat off his brow and taking a moment to catch his breath. He had to have a good start on the Wraith; he’d left them all confused and in his dust. He frowned. But he’d left them all alive too. That couldn’t go on. Sooner or later his luck would run out.
John’s gaze narrowed, a dangerous and dark feeling washing through him. Next time… next time he had to drop at least one of them, preferably all of them. The odds had to tip more in his favor if he was going to survive this.
Panning his flashlight across the room, he spotted another pile of rubble, similar to the last one, but immediately shook his head, dismissing the thought. They’d never fall for the same ambush twice. He had to come up with something different. They’d shown that they had a way to track him, and that created problems because wherever he hid, they’d still be able to find him.
His mind returned to the undeniable fact that he had to even the odds, and one side of his mouth turned up in dark satisfaction. Looking back at the doorway he’d only just come through, he scanned his light past it, spotting two other doorways into the room. He pursed his lips. The Wraith were smart, cunning even. He’d had enough encounters with them to know that they’d learn from their first mistake and adapt. The question was, could he adapt just as well?
John’s dark half smile turned into a full one. Damned right he could. His mind raced through the inventory in his TAC vest and he nodded with satisfaction. It’d be close, but he should have enough.
He ran to the first doorway, ripping open pockets on his TAC vest as he went.
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“Okay,” Rodney kept his voice low, “we’re close. From this room, take the door to the left. That’s where Sheppard is.”
“He is still there?” Teyla asked as she stepped around Rodney and moved up even with Ronon.
“Yeah,” Rodney answered immediately. “He’s moved around that room some, but hasn’t left it.” He looked down at the scanner again, confirming his statement. “He’s still there.”
“How do you want to handle this?” Ronon looked over at Teyla.
Teyla sighed. “Quietly.” She flipped off the light on her gun. “Surprise is our best advantage. You must stun him on the first shot, Ronon, and without light.”
Rodney caught a glimpse of a confident smile on Ronon’s face an instant before the big man turned off his flashlight. “Not a problem,” his whisper reached through the darkness to Rodney’s ears.
Rodney took one last look at the detector. “He’s on the far side of the room,” Rodney whispered, “probably near the doorway he’s expecting us to enter through.” He pressed and held a button on the detector and turned it off before stowing it in his vest. Both the bright screen and the insistent beeping - something Rodney had tried and failed more than once to disable - would give them away as surely as a flashlight… which he also switched off, plunging all of them into full darkness. He cautiously walked forward, following the barely audible scuff of boots from Ronon and Teyla just in front of him.
Abruptly, both stopped, near to the doorway by Rodney’s best estimate. “What is it?” he whispered, halting.
“Problem,” Ronon answered. His quiet voice was calm, but there was a tense edge to it not normally present.
Rodney rolled his eyes and worked to keep his annoyance at bay. “I guessed that,” he whispered back. “Care to be more descriptive?”
“Foot caught something,” Ronon answered. “A wire.”
“A w….” Rodney’s voice trailed off as his mind put two and two together. “Trip wire?” he asked, pretty sure he knew the answer.
“Yep,” Ronon answered.
“Oh god,” Rodney breathed rapidly. “Sheppard…. Damn it. A booby trap. Got to be C4. How the hell did he know what door to wire?”
“That does not matter right now,” Teyla interrupted. “We must get Ronon out of this without setting off the trap.”
“We, meaning me,” Rodney answered, too distracted to keep his annoyance at bay any longer. “I can’t do it without light.”
“Light will give us away,” Ronon answered.
“So will the boom and flash of C4!” Rodney spat back, fighting to keep his voice at a whisper.
“It is likely that John has heard us,” Teyla reasoned, “and knows we are here.”
“Then why hasn’t he shot at us?” Ronon countered.
“I doubt he has a good shot,” Teyla smoothly answered. “You are not squarely in front of the doorway and neither am I. He cannot see us, and will not shoot until he knows he can hit his target. That would fully reveal his position, more than the detector ever could.”
“She’s right,” Rodney answered, unconsciously taking a step to the right. He pulled out his detector and flipped it on. “Sheppard’s still close, but he’s moved. Out of that room and into the next one. I think he’s waiting for us to get caught in his booby trap. He stayed close enough and in the doorway, to keep us in the dark. We wouldn’t risk our lights, because it would reveal our position, but without the light, we wouldn’t be able to see the trip wires either.”
“Good plan,” Ronon answered, a touch of respect in his voice.
Rodney snorted. “Yes, well, even hare-brained flyboys have moments of brilliance. Fortunately,” Rodney flipped on his light, “my brilliance transcends mere moments.” He aimed the light at Ronon’s feet, quickly spotting the tripwire. “Oh yeah, there it is.” He followed the wire to the edge of the doorway, where it was secured to the detonator of a block of C4, propped securely against the wall by a couple of small pieces of rubble. He looked up at Ronon. “Don’t move until I tell you to, or this will end really, really badly.”
Ronon nodded slightly, the rest of his body frozen in place.
Rodney walked over to the C4 and knelt, studying the design of the trap. The wire was tightly knotted around the detonator, which was partially displaced by Ronon’s weight. Rodney shook his head quietly. Had Ronon moved even a fraction more, they would’ve never known what hit them. “Sheppard bypassed the remote control trigger on the detonator and rigged a manual one.” Rodney shook his head in disbelief. For all of Sheppard’s laid back traits and casual persona, the man was downright clever sometimes. He could be a tactical genius when he had to be. At the moment, Rodney wasn’t all too fond of being opposite that genius, instead of on the same side, though he’d never say that out loud and certainly not to Sheppard’s face.
He took a deep breath to steady his hands and reached out carefully grabbing the wire between his thumb and forefinger, holding it steady. Slowly and smoothly, he pried the detonator out of the malleable surface of the C4. Rodney pulled his knife and carefully cut the trip wire. He sheathed the knife. “We’re good.” He stood. “For now.” He held up the detonator, squinting at it in the beam from his flashlight. “Who knows what else Sheppard’s done in that room?”
“We must follow him,” Teyla insisted. “This cannot last forever. Sooner or later, he will come to his senses, or be overcome by whatever has afflicted him. Either way, we must be there when it happens.”
“Where is he?” Ronon asked.
Rodney again pulled the detector out of his vest. “Still two rooms over. Probably waiting for the ‘boom.’”
Slowly, a cunning smile turned up Ronon’s mouth. “Then let’s give him what he wants.”
Rodney squinted for a moment, before his eyes widened in understanding. “You can’t be serious! This building is hundreds of years old at least, and you want to set off a C4 blast? Are you sure you weren’t stung by the same thing as Sheppard? Because that’s insane!”
Ronon just stared back, unfazed. “Time for us to ambush him, instead of the other way around. When he hears the explosion, he’ll come to confirm the kills, and I’ll stun him. Simple.”
“Unless the entire structure comes down on our heads,” Rodney snapped back, trying to keep his voice low.
“You were able to evaluate the structural soundness of the other rooms on our survey,” Teyla’s voice was predictably calm. “Can you not do the same for this one?”
Rodney punched a couple keys. “Yes, but I was evaluating the structural integrity for a survey team to perform research, not set off explosions!”
“Rodney,” Teyla’s voice had an edge of exasperation to it.
Rodney waved his hand. “Okay, alright, I get it. We don’t have a lot of choices, can’t risk getting shot, got to get to Sheppard, yadda, yadda…” he punched another couple of keys, probably harder than he needed to. “Yes, it seems structurally sound…,” he admitted.
“I say we do it,” Ronon answered.
Rodney stared hard at him. “Of course you do. And how, exactly, do you plan on setting off the C4 without blowing yourself up in the process?”
Ronon reached down and picked up the block of explosives from the booby trap and stared a long moment at it before looking back at Rodney.
The low lying feeling of dread Rodney carried most of the time ramped up a notch at the confident, somewhat half-crazy, smile Ronon flashed at him.
“Teyla’s got a detonator and remote with her C4. We toss it in the room, set it off, and take cover in here,” Ronon answered simply.
“Rodney?” Teyla asked, her question clear to him.
“Yes,” Rodney sighed, “I’m pretty sure the room can take the explosion, but I can’t be positive.” He turned off the detector and shoved it into his vest pocket.
“We must try,” Teyla answered. “John would take the chance for any of us.” She pulled a detonator from her vest pocket and handed it to Ronon who jammed it into the malleable block of explosives.
“Take cover,” Ronon ordered as he tossed the C4 into the next room.
Rodney flipped off his light and pressed his back to the wall, just to the right of the doorway, Teyla next to him. She pulled the remote from her vest pocket.
“Fire in the hole,” Teyla said calmly and flipped the switch.
Even with his ears covered, the boom was deafening and debris flew through the doorway, along with the explosion flash. Rodney heard a slight scuffle as Ronon knelt and presumably peeked around the edge of the doorway and into the room, waiting for Sheppard.
The aftermath of the blast was a deafening, mind-numbing silence to Rodney. He listened, straining to hear any indication of Sheppard returning to investigate. He was about to say something when a faint scuffle reached his ears. He listened intently, recognizing the second scuffle as the sound of boots crunching in fine debris. He quietly looked around Teyla and could just make out Ronon in the dim ambient glow undoubtedly produced by Sheppard’s gun light as the colonel searched the room.
Ronon tensed, straightening quietly and preparing to shoot but as he shot, P-90 fire tattooed the ground right in front of him, and he flinched instinctively. The P-90 fire stopped and then started again, the sound moving quickly away from them.
“Damn it!” Ronon stood and charged into the room, firing two shots.
“Ronon!” Teyla leapt to her feet and followed, Rodney close behind.
Rodney froze, his gaze fixing on Sheppard as he turned, training his sights on Teyla. “Watch out!” On the heels of Rodney’s warning, more P-90 fire sent him diving to the ground but not before he heard Teyla’s broken cry. He looked up, past her prone form watching as two blasts from Ronon’s gun hit the wall just to the left of Sheppard who leapt through another doorway and disappeared.
Rodney’s gaze dropped. “Teyla!” He scrambled to his feet and ran towards her.
Teyla turned over and sat up, pain etched deeply on her face and she clutched her right thigh. “It is not bad,” she said in a strained voice as both Ronon and Rodney knelt next to her. “He only grazed me.”
Rodney pulled a bandage out of his TAC vest pocket and pressed it against her leg. “You sure? There’s a lot of blood.”
“Yes,” Teyla gasped. “I am sure. We must…”
“Stay with her,” Ronon’s clipped statement interrupted Teyla. “I’ll get Sheppard.”
“Wait,” Rodney protested, “we should talk about…”
“Go!” Teyla interrupted and waved at Ronon. “We will be fine. Find John.”
Ronon jumped to his feet, but Rodney’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Watch out for the trip wire at the door!” Rodney warned. “I saw Sheppard jump over it. He must’ve rigged all the doors, not knowing which one we’d come through.” Rodney shook his head. “He’s damned smart when he wants to be.” Rodney winced at the uncensored admission that tumbled out of him before he realized it. He shot a warning glare at both Ronon and Teyla. “Don’t ever, ever tell him I said that.” He scowled as both of them smiled just a little.
“Your secret is safe with me, Rodney,” Teyla answered, managing to sound reassuring in spite of the pain in her voice.
Ronon turned back towards the doorway. “Can’t promise that.” Lifting his gun, he slowly walked to the door, carefully stepped over the trip wire and disappeared into the darkness.
“Great,” Rodney muttered. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Possibly,” Teyla answered, what little amusement she had in her voice, completely gone. “But we must get John back and get him through this, first.”
Rodney’s thoughts abruptly shifted back to the present situation and he nodded. “Yeah.”
--------------------------------------
John staggered to a stop, the bright sunlight assaulting his eyes faster than he could adjust. He threw a hand over his eyes for a moment before dropping it and squinting at the long, flat rooftop in front of him. After leaving the Wraith behind, the only path he’d found to escape led up two staircases and dumped him out here, on the roof and, as he looked around, at a dead end.
John ran across the crumbling surface, all the way to the edge and stopped, placing his hands on the short lip. He looked down, eliminating the option of jumping. It was too high. It’d be suicide. He turned back, his gaze narrowing at the dark doorway he’d only emerged from a minute before. He’d taken one of them in the leg last time. That left two for pursuit. He looked down at the nearly empty mag in his P-90. He didn’t have another one, which left only his .45 side arm and one extra clip. Moving left, he jumped behind a short wall, probably the remains of some sort of room, and stared intently at the doorway. It took a lot of ammo to bring these guys down, and at this point, he wasn’t entirely sure he had enough to do the job. John’s eyes narrowed. That wouldn’t stop him from trying.
Shoot ‘till we can’t shoot anymore…
John shook his head, the almost dreamlike memory fleeing as fast as it’d happened. Cold resolution settled over him. He’d been captured before, tortured before… fed on before. Looking over his shoulder, John reassured himself that he had a clear pathway to the edge of the rooftop. It was a last resort-one more option if everything else failed-but he wouldn’t let himself be captured again.
Taking a deep breath, John refocused his attention on the doorway and waited.
---------------------------
Ronon rounded a corner on the narrow stairwell and stopped, staring at the bright sunlit doorway waiting for him at the top of one more flight of stairs. There had been no other pathways, no other alternate routes Sheppard could’ve taken as Ronon chased after him. He knew, without a doubt, that Sheppard was up there somewhere.
He lifted his gun and slowly walked up the final flight of stairs, watching, waiting for some indication of where his friend was. He knew he was likely walking into an ambush, but he wouldn’t turn back. Ronon’s gaze narrowed. In the few years he’d been on Sheppard’s team, he’d felt the strong bond they all shared. He knew without a doubt that if their positions were reversed, Sheppard would do the same thing he was doing now. He just hoped that he’d spot whatever trap was waiting for him, before Sheppard had a chance to spring it.
Ronon stopped at the doorway and peeked out, the sunshine warming his head, but only silence greeted him. Slowly, he stepped out onto the roof.
A flash of movement to his right was the only warning Ronon got and he dove behind a large chunk of rubble as P-90 fire chewed holes into the crumbling stone shielding him. “Sheppard!” Ronon shouted, flinching as small pieces of flying rock stung him in the face. “Sheppard!” Ronon heard his voice echo and fade as P-90 fire was replaced with ominous silence. Slowly, he bent left and looked around the edge of the rubble towards Sheppard’s position and reflexively ducked back as .45 bullets pounded into the rubble. “Damn it!” He hunched over, not lifting his head, until the gunfire once again ceased. Looking over the top, he sent a few stunner shots Sheppard’s direction, but was forced to duck again, as Sheppard emptied a second clip in his direction.
Ronon waited in silence for a couple moments. If Sheppard followed standard, off-world protocol, he’d only had the two clips for his sidearm and the fact that he was using it in the first place told Ronon he was out of ammo for the P-90. Ronon decided to play his hunch that John was out of ammo and tried once again to get through to his friend.
“John,” he called. It wasn’t often Ronon used Sheppard’s first name. In Satedan military, it simply wasn’t done, and all the encouragement by Sheppard to the contrary was never all that effective in breaking old habits. But Ronon overcame reflex now, searching for some way to get through to his friend. “C’mon buddy, it’s me. Ronon.” He heard footsteps crunching in debris, their pace fast and he looked out, his eyes widening in alarm.
Sheppard had swiftly crossed the distance between his cover and the edge of the roof. Before Ronon could react, Sheppard jumped up onto the edge, his gaze fixed on the ground below.
“Not… gonna… be… captured…” John’s voice shook and his breaths came fast and heavy.
“John,” Ronon slowly stood, forcing himself to be slow and calm. At this point, stunning Sheppard was out of the question as he’d likely fall over the edge. It left Ronon with only one option and one he felt decidedly unsuited for. He holstered his gun, and raised his free hand in a placating gesture. He stifled his discomfort at being so far out his element in favor of talking the delusional man down. “Don’t do it.” He took a step forward.
Sheppard looked back at him, his eyes narrowing. “W…wraith,” he stammered, but his uneven voice still held a note of uncertainty.
Ronon’s instincts went on point at the note of doubt he heard. Whether it was the effects of the bite starting to wear off, or if he was somehow getting through to Sheppard, Ronon didn’t know, nor did he care. “I’m not a wraith,” he insisted quietly, taking another step. “C’mon, Sheppard, we’ve been through too much for you not to know that I’m your friend.” It took everything he had not to leap forward as Sheppard wobbled.
Sheppard blinked hard and shook his head slightly. His eyes slid shut and he wobbled again, before he opened them and looked hard at Ronon, his gaze still glassy. “Ronon?”
Ronon took that as a good sign and swiftly walked up to him. He held out his hand. “Yeah.”
Abruptly, Sheppard’s eyes widened and he leaned back towards the edge. “Wraith!”
Ronon didn’t take any time to think, he just reacted. Reaching out, he grabbed Sheppard’s arms and pulled, stopping his friend from leaping off the side of the building. He held tight as they fell, hitting the ground hard. Sheppard struggled against him, shouting and fighting like a man possessed, but Ronon hung on, trying to keep his friend from escaping as his mind raced for some way to subdue him. Ronon rolled, pinning Sheppard under him, but that only made his friend fight harder.
Sheppard wrenched an arm loose and the next thing Ronon knew, he was thrown off balance by a vicious right cross, allowing Sheppard to squirm free. Ronon rolled to his right and into a crouch. He looked up, eyes widening as Sheppard struggled to his feet, his eyes zeroed in on the edge of the building as he surged forward.
With a swift reflex, honed by years of combat, Ronon smoothly drew his gun and bulls-eyed a shot directly in the center of Sheppard’s back.
Wordlessly, Sheppard crumpled to the ground.
Ronon sagged as he stared at the motionless form of his friend. Pushing to his feet, Ronon walked over, knelt next to Sheppard and nodded in satisfaction as the unconscious man’s pulse beat steadily against his fingers.
Ronon rubbed his sore jaw and winced as his bandaged arm protested just as loud. “You had that coming, Sheppard.”
-----------------------------------
John pushed his way up through the darkness, scattered thoughts coming into focus as slowly as his gaze did through partially opened eyes. He groaned and shifted, immediately regretting the move as his stiff and sore body protested. He groaned again and this time heard a quiet shuffle by his bed.
“Colonel?” a light, female voice questioned him.
“Doc,” he whispered and turned his head, his gaze fixing on Keller’s smiling face.
“Welcome back,” she answered. “How do you feel?”
“Like I was stunned,” he answered. “Ronon?”
“You deserved it for being such a pain in the ass.”
John turned his head towards the second voice, watching as Rodney walked up to his bed, giving him a mock glare. Teyla limped up behind him and Ronon brought up the rear. John’s gaze narrowed at Teyla’s limp and the light bandage circling Ronon’s bicep. “You guys okay?”
“Besides being shot by you,” Rodney interjected, “and somehow surviving two ambushes and a booby trap set by… oh yes, you! Yes, we’re fine.”
John’s gaze narrowed. “I wasn’t talking to you, Rodney.” He furrowed his brow. “Booby trap?” His jaw dropped. “I… shot you?”
Teyla walked up next to his bed and smiled reassuringly. “You were not in your right mind, John. You thought we were wraith and acted accordingly.”
“Led us on a pretty good chase too,” Ronon added.
John shook his head, the soft feel of the pillow against it doing nothing to comfort him. “I could’ve killed you.”
“It isn’t your fault, Colonel,” Keller walked to the foot of his bed and smiled at him. “We were able to identify the venom from your tests and cross-referenced it in the database. Violent delusions with an unusual ability for rational thought were common symptoms of this sort of venom. You were bitten by a rare insect, not found on very many planets according to the Ancients.” She glanced down at the tablet in her hand. “The good thing is the Ancients developed an antivenin for it and we have the formula. We’ll make sure anyone that goes to that planet, has it with them.”
“Leave it to Sheppard to be bit by a rare, venomous insect,” Rodney’s voice was decidedly annoyed.
“Be nice, Rodney,” Keller shot him a mock glare. She looked back at John and her smile returned. “And more good news is you’re going to be fine. Your blood work is almost normal. I’ll probably keep you here for another day and you’ll be out.”
John looked first at Teyla and then at Ronon. “Sorry,” he muttered.
Teyla’s reassuring smile persisted. “Do not give it any more thought.”
“I got to stun you,” Ronon added. “We’re even.”
John smiled just a little, his mood improving.
“And McKay thinks you’re damn smart,” Ronon added, mischief coloring his expression.
John’s brows climbed up in surprise and his smile deepened at Rodney’s pained expression. “Really?”
“Ohhh… no,” Rodney lamented. “I thought we weren’t going to tell him I said that!”
“I never said that,” Ronon answered, smiling smugly.
“Thanks, McKay,” John gave him a smug look. “I mean, being MENSA and everything….”
“Just…stop!” Rodney brusquely interrupted. “It wasn’t that big of a deal, just a moment of inspired thought on your part that maybe, briefly, brought you a little closer to where my brilliance resides all the time. But you, my dear colonel, are not me!”
John started, deadpan at Rodney. “Thank God.”
Rodney sucked in a deep breath and stopped, mouth open and expression confused. He clamped his mouth shut, narrowed his gaze in obvious irritation and huffed once. He turned, breezing out the door without another word or a second glance.
Feeling rather proud of himself, John smiled and waggled his eyebrows at Teyla as he nestled his head deeper into his pillow.
Teyla chuckled quietly. “Get some rest, Colonel.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Keller added.
John pulled in a deep breath and nodded. Truthfully, he was too tired to argue and sleep sounded pretty good at the moment. He closed his eyes, listening to the shuffle as his friends left him in peace. He chuckled a little at the thought of a pissed McKay storming down the halls of Atlantis. Inwardly, John shrugged. He’d get over it and it’d all blow over by tomorrow.
John’s thoughts briefly passed over the bits and pieces of his ordeal that he could remember, tied into what they’d told him. He’s shot at them, set booby traps and yet they’d still gone after him. One side of John’s mouth lifted in a drowsy smile as his body relaxed and he started to doze off.
Of course they did. That’s what teams do.
-------------------------------
Author’s Notes: Okay, so the “Summer” pic challenge turned into an “Autumn” pic challenge for me. Heh. That’s what I get for moving in July/August. LOL What a fun challenge! I love looking at pictures and writing a story around them.
HUGE Thanks to coolbreeze1 for finding time in her very busy schedule to beta this story for me yesterday. Thank you so much sweetie! You’re the best! :D
Word Count: ~9400
Genre: Gen, HC, Whump
Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagan
Warnings: Whump with some HC. Minor profanity
Summary: Are routine missions ever routine with Sheppard’s team? Never! Nothing like a little trouble to keep the team on their toes!
Written for the sheppard_hc Summer Pic Challenge.
Figments
Listen to your intuition. It will tell you everything you need to know.
~Anthony J. D'Angelo
“This is a complete and utter waste of my time! You do realize that, right?”
John kicked a rock, momentarily entertaining the fantasy that it was actually Rodney’s head. “No, actually, I didn’t catch that part the last five times you said it, Rodney,” he shot back, refusing to look over his shoulder at his teammate. The hot, desert air admittedly made him grouchy and the sweat trickling down his back didn’t help, nor did Rodney’s bitching.
“I did.”
Ronon’s statement was more a growl than anything. John wondered how much more the big man would endure before taking action… and he briefly wondered if he’d actually intervene. John sighed, dismissing the thought. “Just… we get it, Rodney, but this is what we do.” He waved ahead of him at the ruins scattered across the rocky hillside. “We explore.”
“No,” Rodney countered, his annoyance as strong as ever. “This is what science teams do. We explore ruins that have at least an iota of potentially useful technology to help us in our fight against the Wraith… or the Replicators… or anything else this galaxy decides to throw at us. This,” he paused only to take a quick breath, “this is a waste of our time. There is no technology here, no energy readings, not even any indigenous people. This is an archeological venture and certainly not a mission for the Alpha team!”
“McKay!” John barked, kicking another rock, this time harder and interrupting Rodney before he could continue. “Don’t make me shoot you.”
“Yeah, right,” Rodney snorted. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would,” Ronon interrupted quietly.
“Yeah… uhh… well…” Rodney stammered.
John kept walking and smiled just slightly, before the moment of dark humor passed. “And knock it off with the Alpha team crap. We’re no more important than any other team on Atlantis.” He stopped, turned and stared hard at Rodney. Though his eyes were hidden by his sunglasses, he had no doubt his best ‘quit with the bullshit’ expression was making itself very clear. “We all do these missions.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the ruins. “No civilian team is going near that place until we’ve checked it out.” He lifted his P-90 and turned away. “Discussion closed.” Continuing towards a long, steep switchback that led up to the ruins, John glanced at Teyla who walked along beside him. “You’re quiet,” he observed.
Teyla smiled. “I have nothing more to add, that Ronon has not already said.”
John chuckled as Teyla fell in behind him and he started up the first level of the narrow switchback, running east to west across the hillside. As he turned the corner and started up the second level, he looked at the ruins. “Quite a hike.”
“Makes it defensible,” Ronon answered.
John nodded. “Yeah, I’d hate to attack this place on foot.” He pointed to the tops of a set of crumbling buildings, set lower in the hill than the others. “Could put snipers there and pick off anyone attacking.”
“More like archers from the looks of this place,” Rodney corrected. “There’s nothing on the Life Signs Detector, not that I’d expect to find anything.”
“Except funky alien predators,” John quipped, “but that never happens to us.”
“Oh, no,” Rodney replied, his voice equally as sarcastic, “never. Unless you count the saber tooth felines on Lantea’s southern continent, or the crazy, monkey things on P4X-882. Oh and let’s not forget the Warags. Those always make any mission complete.”
“So… no readings, right?” John could practically hear Rodney checking his detector again.
“Right,” Rodney answered.
“Too bad,” Ronon sounded disappointed. “Could use a rematch with some Warags.”
John took a quick mental inventory of the scars he carried from Warag encounters and winced a little. “Maybe next time,” he answered dryly. He rounded another corner and stopped, looking out across a huge valley. “Wow.” Haze clouded their view, but even through that, he could see the majesty of rolling hills and mountains that stretched into the horizon. “Could get used to that view.”
“Impressive,” Teyla agreed.
John just smiled. He’d always had a thing for the wilderness and had relished wide open spaces ever since he was a kid. If there was one thing most of the planets in Pegasus seemed to have, it was wide open spaces. While the reasons why planets in this galaxy weren’t overpopulated were dark and scary, to say the least, the sprawling wilderness on so many planets appealed to him. He took a deep breath. “Come on.” Turning he headed back across the hillside, ducking under the branches of a tree that had somehow found a way to flourish in the dry, rocky soil.
Completing another switchback, John paused and looked over the path ahead of him. Somewhere along the way, part of the step up to the next level had given way, obliterating the gradual incline, and leaving a small landslide of rocks and dirt in its place. “Looks pretty unstable.” He carefully walked forward, his boots sinking in the dirt and slipping more than he liked. He let go of his P-90, letting it hang from his vest and freeing his hands. “Careful, guys.” He stopped, lifting his hands a little to balance as his feet slipped again in the loose debris. “Probably best to do this one at a time.”
“Is now a good time to point out, again, that we should’ve brought a jumper?” Rodney asked as he stowed his detector in his vest before fixing John with an annoyed look.
“Not really, no,” John answered. “Look around, Rodney. If you can tell me exactly where I would’ve landed it, besides on top of an ancient crumbling building, or at the bottom of the hill, in which case we’d still be hiking up through here, then I’ll be happy to tell you that you’re right.”
Rodney grunted. “Point,” he muttered.
Holding his hands out, John carefully took another step, working his way across the small debris field towards the solid ground of the next level. Reaching up, he found a good handhold on the level above him and steadied himself the last couple steps up to the next level. He stopped, turned and brushed his hands on his pant legs. “Okay, it’s a little tricky, but doable. Just take it slow and easy, one at a time.” His eyes narrowed intensely as Teyla slowly made her way up to him, followed by Rodney and finally Ronon. As the big man neared them, the unstable debris shifted, throwing him off balance.
“Ronon!” John’s reaction was reflexive as he reached out, grabbing Ronon’s sword harness where it crossed the front of his shoulder. Pulled off balance by his teammate’s weight, his hand shot up, latching onto the level above them. Digging his fingers into the dirt, John stabilized himself, his grip on Ronon never wavering. Ronon, for his part, made good on the assistance and quickly found his balance, and his way onto solid ground. John released him and took a deep breath. “You okay?”
Ronon cocked his head and smiled slightly. “Yeah, thanks.”
John returned the smile. “Anytime, big guy, just…” his voice trailed off as a searing pain shot through his right hand, still resting on the level above them. “OW!” He snatched back his hand and staggered into Ronon, who held fast, steadying him. John clutched his hand in agony. It felt like someone had jabbed a red hot knife into the space between his thumb and first finger and he doubled over in pain, in spite of Ronon’s strong grip on his arms. “Gah! Son of a bitch that hurts!”
“John?” Teyla took a step towards him. “What is it? What is wrong?”
“Something bit me!” John shook his throbbing left hand. “Or stung me or… something!”
“Stung?” Rodney’s voice held a note of panic. He flinched and quickly scanned the air around them. “Bees? I remind you that I’m deathly allergic…”
“McKay!” John managed, still clenching his throbbing hand. “I’m the one that’s stung here. Check the paranoia!”
Rodney immediately straightened. “Right.” He patted around on his vest. “I have an epi pen….”
“John,” Teyla’s voice was quiet and calm. “Sit down.”
John looked at her for a moment and took a deep breath, before easing to the ground. He leaned his head back against the dirt wall behind him, closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing heart.
“How do you feel?” Teyla asked.
John opened his eyes, his gaze following her as she crouched next to him, gently taking his injured hand and scrutinizing it closely. “Besides feeling like someone stabbed a hot knife into my hand?” he answered. “Fine.” His eyes narrowed as he concentrated for a moment, taking stock of himself and looking for any other symptoms. “I don’t think I’m allergic.”
A small smile turned up the corners of Teyla’s mouth and she let go of his hand. “That is good. But rest for a few minutes just to be sure.”
John looked over at Ronon, who was intently scanning the level above them. “Anything?”
Ronon shook his head. “No. Whatever it was, it’s too small to spot, or it left.”
John’s gaze dropped to Rodney, who crouched beside Teyla.
“You sure you’re okay?” Rodney held up his epi pen. “I have this.”
John’s mind raced through the list of side effects from an epinephrine dose, drilled into his head by Carson, and winced. “Yeah,” he answered, “I’d rather avoid that if I can.”
Rodney nodded. “I don’t blame you. Heart palpitations. Not fun. Trust me. Voice of experience here.”
John took a deep breath and looked down at his hand. A red, swollen welt dominated the lose skin between his thumb and forefinger and his entire hand throbbed, but other than that, he still felt okay. He took that as a positive sign, knowing that if he was going to have an anaphylactic reaction, he’d probably be feeling it by now. “Looks like a sting of some sort.” He observed. “Really, I think I’m okay here.” Leaning forward, he pulled his legs under himself and felt Ronon’s strong grip on his upper arm as he slowly stood.
“Perhaps we should return to Atlantis and have Carson look at your hand,” Teyla ventured.
John shook his head. “Nah, really, I’m okay.” He looked up at the ruins, only two levels above them. “We’re almost there. Let’s just make sure this place checks out. Then we can get the engineers to shore up the path and turn the archeologists lose on it, while we move on to other things.”
“A thought that is appealing to say the least,” Rodney added.
Teyla was silent a moment before nodding. She reached into one of her vest pockets and pulled out a chemical ice pack. Punching the center, she shook it vigorously, mixing the chemicals before handing it to John. “Here.”
John smiled. “Thanks.” He gently laid the pack over the welt, wincing. The cold hurt for a moment but then felt pretty good. “Let’s go. Ronon, take point while I’m one-handed here.”
Ronon nodded. “Got it.” He walked off across the switchback and John fell in right behind him as they moved along the last switchback, leading to the first set of ruins.
John ducked under the branches of a couple trees and looked up at the lone standing wall from a building long destroyed. Three crescent shaped windows dominated the top of the structure, and unusual writing and pictures, faded by relentless weather, crisscrossed the bottom. “Don’t recognize the writing,” he commented, scanning the faded paint.
“Huh,” Rodney grunted. “I don’t either. Definitely not Ancient.”
John looked at Teyla questioningly, but she shook her head.
“No, it is unfamiliar to me as well,” she affirmed. “The inhabitants of this planet have been gone for a very long time; there is no record of them amongst my people. Perhaps it is a language that is no longer used.”
John nodded. “Something for the archeologists to discuss. Move on.” He lifted the ice pack off his hand and flexed his fingers experimentally. The sting was still swollen, but didn’t appear to be getting worse. His index finger and thumb were a little stiff, but otherwise he figured he was okay. He shoved the warming ice pack in a vest pocket and took point.
Reaching the next level of ruins took a little scrambling on their part through the loose rocks and dirt along the side of the wall, but it wasn’t far until they reached flat and relatively stable ground. John stopped and looked up at a short set of stairs, leading into a large building still relatively intact. The building had several joined modules and what looked like three or four levels. His gaze narrowed and he reflexively tensed as his instincts went on point. Slowly, he lifted his gun as he turned, looking around the quiet ruins.
“What is wrong?” Teyla raised her gun in response.
John’s lips tightened. He couldn’t put words to his gut feeling, but it didn’t make it any less real. A career of combat and covert missions had taught him to listen to his instincts and he couldn’t dismiss their insistent warning. “Something,” he answered quietly. “I don’t know but…” he shook his head slightly. “There’s something.”
Ronon turned in a slow circle. “I don’t see anything.” He looked back at Sheppard for a long moment before drawing his gun. “But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing there.”
“Well, there is nothing there,” Rodney answered, staring at his Life Signs Detector. “Nothing but us.”
“I do not sense anything,” Teyla answered.
“Okay, so no Wraith,” John shook his head again, this time insistently. “But I still don’t like it. Something’s…” he paused, groping for the right words, and finally settling on the only inadequate reply he could think of. “Not right.”
“Not right,” Rodney muttered, poking a couple buttons on his detector. “Not helpful. I swear Sheppard, you’re getting paranoid.”
John glared at Rodney. “I am not paranoid.” He sighed deeply in frustration and lowered his gun. “Fine. Let’s get this done.” He turned and started up the stairs to the entrance into the weathered building.
“Wait,” Rodney protested. “Do you think that’s such a good idea, I mean, now?”
John stopped, turned and looked back, fixing Rodney with a cold stare. He couldn’t shake the feeling in his gut, even if there was no evidence to support it, and that feeling made him edgy. “Why not?” He waved at Rodney’s detector. “You’re the one insisting nothing’s out there.”
“Yeah, but…”
“No buts,” John interrupted. “Let’s do this.” He turned and continued up the stairs, but with each step, the feeling of dread in his gut intensified. Crap, John, you really are paranoid! Chastising himself, he continued on, his team right behind him.
John paused at the shadowy entrance and flipped on his P-90 light. He scanned the immediate area inside the doorway, but only quiet darkness greeted his search. “McKay?”
“Still clear,” Rodney answered. “You’re good to go.”
John nodded. “Okay, we do a quick building by building search, just to verify everything is safe. I want a brief look at the rooms and structural integrity. If it all checks out, we can green light this one for the scientists and let them poke at the details.”
“Sounds good to me,” Ronon answered.
One side of John’s mouth turned up slightly at the bored and annoyed tone to Ronon’s voice. He made a mental note to never assign the Satedan scientific babysitting duties. “C’mon.” He slowly walked through the entrance and into the darkness. Behind him, three more streams of light added to his and Teyla’s gun light and flashlights from Rodney and Ronon. John aimed his light upwards, panning it across the ceiling. “Looks stable,” he commented.
“Agreed,” Rodney answered. “As far as I can tell from these readings, it’s structurally sound.”
John nodded to himself, all the while trying to quell his instinctive wariness that was rapidly becoming a full-blown warning. Something was there, he knew it. He didn’t know what or where, but something was out there. But, if something was there, McKay’s detector would show it. Ronon and Teyla, who had instincts that put his to shame, would sense it too. But it was only him and he had nothing to go on except his gut. Logically, it made no sense, but still, he couldn’t dismiss it. His instincts warred with his rational mind and it left him torn, tense and jumpy. Damn it! “Next room.” He fought to keep his voice normal and calm.
They passed through a door and into another room and a light sheen of sweat broke out on John’s forehead. Adrenaline surged through him, unbidden and unwanted. Almost desperately, he clung to the rational thoughts in his head. There’s nothing there… there’s nothing there… but the mantra did nothing to calm him.
Abruptly, he staggered to a stop, reflexively raising his gun and fighting to see anything in the oppressive darkness as his instincts utterly and completely overwhelmed any rational thought. Voices reached his ears, pleading with him, questioning him. Couldn’t they see the danger? Sense it? It was there! “No!” He roared, spinning. He fixed his gun on the first target in front of him, squeezed the trigger…
… and then ran for his life.
-------------------------------------------
Rodney felt like he was watching everything in slow motion and for a moment, his mind couldn’t process what he was seeing. There was no way Sheppard was shooting at any of them and there was no way he was turning, running and leaving them behind in the dark, stunned and confused.
“Ronon!” Teyla’s frightened voice echoed off the high ceilings.
Rodney spun, his breaths coming fast and heavy and in that moment, the slow motion turn of events in the last ten seconds snapped and the world spun around him. Rodney turned again, training his flashlight on Sheppard’s retreating back until he was swallowed up by the darkness, flashlight and all. “Sheppard!” He looked down focusing his light on Teyla who was pressing a thick bandage into Ronon’s arm. “Oh god! He shot you!”
“Ronon?” She repeated, her voice urgent.
Wincing, Ronon lifted his head. “It’s okay.”
“You are bleeding.” Teyla answered in a no-nonsense tone of voice. She quickly turned her head and looked around. “Colonel Sheppard?”
“He’s gone,” Rodney answered. Swallowing against a dry throat, he knelt next to Teyla and shone his light on Ronon’s wound.
Carefully, Teyla peeled back the bandage and sighed quietly. “He only grazed you. It is not serious.”
With his good hand, Ronon pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Told you.”
Teyla’s gaze narrowed at her teammate. “You are not always… entirely honest in situations such as this.” She looked at Rodney. “Hold this.”
Rodney nodded and held the bandage as Teyla secured it around Ronon’s arm. Rodney’s mind raced. What happened to Sheppard? “What the hell is going on with him?” Rodney shook his head.
“Why would he shoot me?” Ronon asked.
“Well, I could think of a half a dozen reasons,” Rodney snapped back, “but that’s beside the point. It has to be that sting, or bite or whatever.”
“We cannot be certain, Rodney,” Teyla answered as she sat back on her heels.
“It’s the only logical answer,” Rodney insisted. “He was fine until that happened. It was only a couple minutes later that he started to change.” Rodney took several deep breaths as he tried to get a handle on his racing mind and organize his thoughts.
“He thought something was nearby when there was not,” Teyla answered quietly. “That is when it started.”
Rodney’s racing mind screeched to a halt. “Delusions.” He looked first at Teyla and then Ronon. “He’s hallucinating or… or something….”
“We gotta find him.” Ronon pushed himself to his knees and slowly stood.
“Are you kidding me?” Rodney stared incredulously up at him. “God knows what he sees when he sees us, but whatever it is, he thinks he needs to kill it. And you want to run off after him in pitch black ruins? Have you lost your mind?” Rodney took a quick breath and plowed on. “Granted, key parts of Sheppard’s service record are sealed, but we’ve seen enough to know the man is black ops trained and lethal. What you’re suggesting is crazy!”
Unmoving and expressionless, Ronon just stared back at him for a long moment, before looking down at Teyla, who nodded slightly. He looked back at Rodney. “What choice do we have?”
Rodney sagged and sunk back on his heels, his mind still racing, but he couldn’t think of a single, alternative answer to Ronon’s simple question. He dropped his head and knew in that moment that if their positions were reversed, Sheppard would do the same thing for any one of them.
“Rodney, it is likely that there is some sort of venom or poison causing this reaction in John,” Teyla reasoned. “If so, then it is possible there will be other side effects, even some that could kill him, we do not know. But we cannot leave him to find out on his own.”
Slowly, Rodney nodded. He looked up at Teyla. “You’re right,” he answered quietly. Reaching into his vest, he pulled out his detector. “I’m showing one life sign, quite a ways ahead of us, deeper in the ruins. That has to be Sheppard.”
“That’s where we need to go,” Ronon drew his gun and expertly set it to stun. Lifting his flashlight, he slowly walked in the direction Sheppard had run only a few minutes earlier.
“Hopefully, we can detect him before he sees us.” Rodney looked at Teyla and sighed quietly.
Teyla smiled thinly and followed Ronon.
Taking one, last moment to look around, Rodney wordlessly fell in behind her.
------------------------
John staggered to a stop, turning in a wide circle as his light sliced through the oppressive darkness that surrounded him. He’d taken one Wraith in the arm, but knew that meant nothing. They were back there… somewhere… hunting him. He looked down, his gaze centering on the shaking circle of light on the floor coming from his lowered gun and frowned. The light would give him away, but in the absolute darkness, he couldn’t make his way without it. His head snapped up, drawn to the faint sound of scuffling coming towards him. His gaze narrowed.
Wraith.
He’d survived Taliban, North Korean soldiers and Al-Qaeda terrorists. He’d even survived the Wraith, more than once, in this damned galaxy. He wasn’t about to give up now, not without a fight. Again, he panned his light around the room, this time slowly, looking for the walls and anything else that might be hidden by the darkness. His light froze on a large chunk of rubble and he smiled slightly, darkly.
Crossing the room, he knelt behind the rubble, rested his P-90 on the top of the rough remains of a wall, aimed it in the direction of the doorway and flipped off the light.
He’d fought in the dark before, even without night vision goggles and that skill, honed in the heat of battle and the struggle to survive, had burned itself into his memory and branded itself on his reflexes. The years since he’d been forced to use these skills faded away and he fell into a familiar mindset, like it’d been yesterday. He took a deep breath, listened…
… and waited.
----------------------------------
“Not far now,” Rodney whispered as he slowed his pace. “Sheppard’s in the next room.” As they approached the doorway, Teyla and Rodney went to the right side, while Ronon took the left. Rodney looked over at Ronon as the big man leaned against the door frame and slowly peeked around it, scanning his light across the room. He looked at Teyla and shook his head.
Teyla carefully looked into the room. “John? It is Teyla. Ronon and Rodney are here with me. We will not hurt you. Please, show yourself. You are injured and we want to help you.”
Rodney tried not to hold his breath as the seconds dragged by in silence. Teyla looked back at Rodney, prompting him to look down at his scanner. He shook his head. “Nope. Hasn’t moved.” His gaze found her concerned one again. “He could be unconscious.”
Teyla’s gaze left his and fixed on Ronon. Silently, the two nodded at each other. Teyla looked back at Rodney. “Stay here. Let us know if he moves.”
Rodney nodded. “Right.” He glanced at Ronon.
Ronon’s shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath and carefully stepped around the corner and into the room, his gun raised, and flashlight scanning the area in front of him. Teyla was a step behind and broke right as Ronon broke left.
Left on his own, Rodney cautiously peeked around the corner and shone his light directly down the middle of the room, illuminating the dark area left by Ronon and Teyla’s split. Slowly, he scanned his light across the floor, towards the back of the room and the next doorway. The smooth floor was interrupted by a rough mound of rubble and as he scanned his light up the side of it, an abnormal reflection gave him pause. Rodney’s gaze narrowed and he moved his light back to the location of the abnormality. Zeroing in on it, the mystery disappeared as, with cold clarity, he knew exactly what he was seeing.
The flashlight of a P-90.
“There!” He shouted and on the heels of his warning, Sheppard’s head popped up. Even through the dim light, Rodney could see the cold, maniacal look in Sheppard’s eyes, an instant before he opened fire on Rodney’s position.
Rodney dove back behind the wall, P-90 bullets splintering the rock doorframe just to the left of his head. “Sheppard!” he shouted in vain.
Abruptly, the sound of P-90 fire was drowned out by the repeated blasts of Ronon’s gun and when the P-90 fire resumed, the shots were aimed away from Rodney. He heard the scramble of feet on rock, two more shots by Ronon’s gun and then, silence.
Rodney slowly lowered his arms, lifted his head and looked around. “Ronon? Teyla?”
“Clear!” Teyla’s voice answered him.
Rodney hastily scrambled to his feet and dashed into the room. He looked around, first at Ronon and then Teyla, who were both pushing themselves up from prone positions on the ground and seemed unscathed. “Sheppard?”
“Gone,” Ronon answered, frustrated. “Couldn’t get a clean shot at him.”
“He ambushed us,” Teyla shook her head.
“How the hell did he manage that in his condition?” Rodney demanded. “I didn’t think he was lucid enough to think that straight. At least, he didn’t seem to be.”
“Apparently, we were all mistaken,” Teyla answered. “It would appear whatever is afflicting him, has altered his mind, but not affected his cognitive process.”
“Great. Still capable of strategic and tactical thought processes. That makes him incredibly dangerous,” Rodney answered. “At least if he was out of his mind, we could probably expect him doing something irrational that we could take advantage of, but this, this is different.” He looked down at his detector. “We were damned lucky, this time.” He shook his head at the swiftly moving dot. “He’s still on the move.”
Ronon sighed loudly. “Let’s go.”
Rodney shook his head. Who could say Sheppard wouldn’t do the same thing again? There had to be a better way. “Wait.”
Ronon paused. “What?”
“This is crazy,” Rodney answered as he punched a couple keys on the detector. “We can’t just keep following him and walking into traps, or he’s going to end up killing one or all of us!”
“You have a better idea?” Ronon asked, annoyed, “because the longer we stand here, the farther away he gets.”
“I might!” Rodney shot back, sparing Ronon a glare before returning his attention to the detector. “Just… give me a minute here.” Abruptly, the display changed, the range expanded to show an extended floor plan of the rooms around them. “Ah ha!” He kept his attention on the detector but still heard both Ronon and Teyla walk up next to him.
“What is it?” Teyla asked.
Rodney shook his head. “This place is a maze. Most of the rooms have more than one entrance. We might be able to catch Sheppard off guard and stun him before he can shoot back at us if we plan this right.” Rodney looked up at Ronon, allowing himself a slight, but still smug smile. “Tip the scales in our favor, instead of his.”
One side of Ronon’s mouth turned up, just slightly, and he nodded.
“Good idea, Rodney,” Teyla answered. “Do we know where he is?”
Rodney pointed at the dot, slowing its pace as it entered another, large room. “That’s him, he’s slowed down. Probably thinks he has a good head start on us, which he does. If he stops there, we should be able to determine an alternate route to that room. It has two other entrances besides the one Sheppard used.”
“Very well,” Teyla nodded. “Which way?”
Rodney lifted his flashlight and panned left along the wall, until he illuminated a crumbled door. “That way.”
“Let’s go.” Ronon immediately took point.
Rodney followed behind, alternating his sight between the ground in front of him, and the detector as he quickly mapped out their route. “Hope this works,” he muttered to no one in particular.
----------------------------------------
John staggered to a stop, his breaths coming deep and fast, echoing off the high ceiling above him and the walls of the large, empty room around him. His senses were on high alert, prickles running up and down his skin. Each shift of air, scrabble of small rodents, drip of water-none of it went unnoticed by him.
He reached up, wiping a line of sweat off his brow and taking a moment to catch his breath. He had to have a good start on the Wraith; he’d left them all confused and in his dust. He frowned. But he’d left them all alive too. That couldn’t go on. Sooner or later his luck would run out.
John’s gaze narrowed, a dangerous and dark feeling washing through him. Next time… next time he had to drop at least one of them, preferably all of them. The odds had to tip more in his favor if he was going to survive this.
Panning his flashlight across the room, he spotted another pile of rubble, similar to the last one, but immediately shook his head, dismissing the thought. They’d never fall for the same ambush twice. He had to come up with something different. They’d shown that they had a way to track him, and that created problems because wherever he hid, they’d still be able to find him.
His mind returned to the undeniable fact that he had to even the odds, and one side of his mouth turned up in dark satisfaction. Looking back at the doorway he’d only just come through, he scanned his light past it, spotting two other doorways into the room. He pursed his lips. The Wraith were smart, cunning even. He’d had enough encounters with them to know that they’d learn from their first mistake and adapt. The question was, could he adapt just as well?
John’s dark half smile turned into a full one. Damned right he could. His mind raced through the inventory in his TAC vest and he nodded with satisfaction. It’d be close, but he should have enough.
He ran to the first doorway, ripping open pockets on his TAC vest as he went.
----------------------------------------
“Okay,” Rodney kept his voice low, “we’re close. From this room, take the door to the left. That’s where Sheppard is.”
“He is still there?” Teyla asked as she stepped around Rodney and moved up even with Ronon.
“Yeah,” Rodney answered immediately. “He’s moved around that room some, but hasn’t left it.” He looked down at the scanner again, confirming his statement. “He’s still there.”
“How do you want to handle this?” Ronon looked over at Teyla.
Teyla sighed. “Quietly.” She flipped off the light on her gun. “Surprise is our best advantage. You must stun him on the first shot, Ronon, and without light.”
Rodney caught a glimpse of a confident smile on Ronon’s face an instant before the big man turned off his flashlight. “Not a problem,” his whisper reached through the darkness to Rodney’s ears.
Rodney took one last look at the detector. “He’s on the far side of the room,” Rodney whispered, “probably near the doorway he’s expecting us to enter through.” He pressed and held a button on the detector and turned it off before stowing it in his vest. Both the bright screen and the insistent beeping - something Rodney had tried and failed more than once to disable - would give them away as surely as a flashlight… which he also switched off, plunging all of them into full darkness. He cautiously walked forward, following the barely audible scuff of boots from Ronon and Teyla just in front of him.
Abruptly, both stopped, near to the doorway by Rodney’s best estimate. “What is it?” he whispered, halting.
“Problem,” Ronon answered. His quiet voice was calm, but there was a tense edge to it not normally present.
Rodney rolled his eyes and worked to keep his annoyance at bay. “I guessed that,” he whispered back. “Care to be more descriptive?”
“Foot caught something,” Ronon answered. “A wire.”
“A w….” Rodney’s voice trailed off as his mind put two and two together. “Trip wire?” he asked, pretty sure he knew the answer.
“Yep,” Ronon answered.
“Oh god,” Rodney breathed rapidly. “Sheppard…. Damn it. A booby trap. Got to be C4. How the hell did he know what door to wire?”
“That does not matter right now,” Teyla interrupted. “We must get Ronon out of this without setting off the trap.”
“We, meaning me,” Rodney answered, too distracted to keep his annoyance at bay any longer. “I can’t do it without light.”
“Light will give us away,” Ronon answered.
“So will the boom and flash of C4!” Rodney spat back, fighting to keep his voice at a whisper.
“It is likely that John has heard us,” Teyla reasoned, “and knows we are here.”
“Then why hasn’t he shot at us?” Ronon countered.
“I doubt he has a good shot,” Teyla smoothly answered. “You are not squarely in front of the doorway and neither am I. He cannot see us, and will not shoot until he knows he can hit his target. That would fully reveal his position, more than the detector ever could.”
“She’s right,” Rodney answered, unconsciously taking a step to the right. He pulled out his detector and flipped it on. “Sheppard’s still close, but he’s moved. Out of that room and into the next one. I think he’s waiting for us to get caught in his booby trap. He stayed close enough and in the doorway, to keep us in the dark. We wouldn’t risk our lights, because it would reveal our position, but without the light, we wouldn’t be able to see the trip wires either.”
“Good plan,” Ronon answered, a touch of respect in his voice.
Rodney snorted. “Yes, well, even hare-brained flyboys have moments of brilliance. Fortunately,” Rodney flipped on his light, “my brilliance transcends mere moments.” He aimed the light at Ronon’s feet, quickly spotting the tripwire. “Oh yeah, there it is.” He followed the wire to the edge of the doorway, where it was secured to the detonator of a block of C4, propped securely against the wall by a couple of small pieces of rubble. He looked up at Ronon. “Don’t move until I tell you to, or this will end really, really badly.”
Ronon nodded slightly, the rest of his body frozen in place.
Rodney walked over to the C4 and knelt, studying the design of the trap. The wire was tightly knotted around the detonator, which was partially displaced by Ronon’s weight. Rodney shook his head quietly. Had Ronon moved even a fraction more, they would’ve never known what hit them. “Sheppard bypassed the remote control trigger on the detonator and rigged a manual one.” Rodney shook his head in disbelief. For all of Sheppard’s laid back traits and casual persona, the man was downright clever sometimes. He could be a tactical genius when he had to be. At the moment, Rodney wasn’t all too fond of being opposite that genius, instead of on the same side, though he’d never say that out loud and certainly not to Sheppard’s face.
He took a deep breath to steady his hands and reached out carefully grabbing the wire between his thumb and forefinger, holding it steady. Slowly and smoothly, he pried the detonator out of the malleable surface of the C4. Rodney pulled his knife and carefully cut the trip wire. He sheathed the knife. “We’re good.” He stood. “For now.” He held up the detonator, squinting at it in the beam from his flashlight. “Who knows what else Sheppard’s done in that room?”
“We must follow him,” Teyla insisted. “This cannot last forever. Sooner or later, he will come to his senses, or be overcome by whatever has afflicted him. Either way, we must be there when it happens.”
“Where is he?” Ronon asked.
Rodney again pulled the detector out of his vest. “Still two rooms over. Probably waiting for the ‘boom.’”
Slowly, a cunning smile turned up Ronon’s mouth. “Then let’s give him what he wants.”
Rodney squinted for a moment, before his eyes widened in understanding. “You can’t be serious! This building is hundreds of years old at least, and you want to set off a C4 blast? Are you sure you weren’t stung by the same thing as Sheppard? Because that’s insane!”
Ronon just stared back, unfazed. “Time for us to ambush him, instead of the other way around. When he hears the explosion, he’ll come to confirm the kills, and I’ll stun him. Simple.”
“Unless the entire structure comes down on our heads,” Rodney snapped back, trying to keep his voice low.
“You were able to evaluate the structural soundness of the other rooms on our survey,” Teyla’s voice was predictably calm. “Can you not do the same for this one?”
Rodney punched a couple keys. “Yes, but I was evaluating the structural integrity for a survey team to perform research, not set off explosions!”
“Rodney,” Teyla’s voice had an edge of exasperation to it.
Rodney waved his hand. “Okay, alright, I get it. We don’t have a lot of choices, can’t risk getting shot, got to get to Sheppard, yadda, yadda…” he punched another couple of keys, probably harder than he needed to. “Yes, it seems structurally sound…,” he admitted.
“I say we do it,” Ronon answered.
Rodney stared hard at him. “Of course you do. And how, exactly, do you plan on setting off the C4 without blowing yourself up in the process?”
Ronon reached down and picked up the block of explosives from the booby trap and stared a long moment at it before looking back at Rodney.
The low lying feeling of dread Rodney carried most of the time ramped up a notch at the confident, somewhat half-crazy, smile Ronon flashed at him.
“Teyla’s got a detonator and remote with her C4. We toss it in the room, set it off, and take cover in here,” Ronon answered simply.
“Rodney?” Teyla asked, her question clear to him.
“Yes,” Rodney sighed, “I’m pretty sure the room can take the explosion, but I can’t be positive.” He turned off the detector and shoved it into his vest pocket.
“We must try,” Teyla answered. “John would take the chance for any of us.” She pulled a detonator from her vest pocket and handed it to Ronon who jammed it into the malleable block of explosives.
“Take cover,” Ronon ordered as he tossed the C4 into the next room.
Rodney flipped off his light and pressed his back to the wall, just to the right of the doorway, Teyla next to him. She pulled the remote from her vest pocket.
“Fire in the hole,” Teyla said calmly and flipped the switch.
Even with his ears covered, the boom was deafening and debris flew through the doorway, along with the explosion flash. Rodney heard a slight scuffle as Ronon knelt and presumably peeked around the edge of the doorway and into the room, waiting for Sheppard.
The aftermath of the blast was a deafening, mind-numbing silence to Rodney. He listened, straining to hear any indication of Sheppard returning to investigate. He was about to say something when a faint scuffle reached his ears. He listened intently, recognizing the second scuffle as the sound of boots crunching in fine debris. He quietly looked around Teyla and could just make out Ronon in the dim ambient glow undoubtedly produced by Sheppard’s gun light as the colonel searched the room.
Ronon tensed, straightening quietly and preparing to shoot but as he shot, P-90 fire tattooed the ground right in front of him, and he flinched instinctively. The P-90 fire stopped and then started again, the sound moving quickly away from them.
“Damn it!” Ronon stood and charged into the room, firing two shots.
“Ronon!” Teyla leapt to her feet and followed, Rodney close behind.
Rodney froze, his gaze fixing on Sheppard as he turned, training his sights on Teyla. “Watch out!” On the heels of Rodney’s warning, more P-90 fire sent him diving to the ground but not before he heard Teyla’s broken cry. He looked up, past her prone form watching as two blasts from Ronon’s gun hit the wall just to the left of Sheppard who leapt through another doorway and disappeared.
Rodney’s gaze dropped. “Teyla!” He scrambled to his feet and ran towards her.
Teyla turned over and sat up, pain etched deeply on her face and she clutched her right thigh. “It is not bad,” she said in a strained voice as both Ronon and Rodney knelt next to her. “He only grazed me.”
Rodney pulled a bandage out of his TAC vest pocket and pressed it against her leg. “You sure? There’s a lot of blood.”
“Yes,” Teyla gasped. “I am sure. We must…”
“Stay with her,” Ronon’s clipped statement interrupted Teyla. “I’ll get Sheppard.”
“Wait,” Rodney protested, “we should talk about…”
“Go!” Teyla interrupted and waved at Ronon. “We will be fine. Find John.”
Ronon jumped to his feet, but Rodney’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Watch out for the trip wire at the door!” Rodney warned. “I saw Sheppard jump over it. He must’ve rigged all the doors, not knowing which one we’d come through.” Rodney shook his head. “He’s damned smart when he wants to be.” Rodney winced at the uncensored admission that tumbled out of him before he realized it. He shot a warning glare at both Ronon and Teyla. “Don’t ever, ever tell him I said that.” He scowled as both of them smiled just a little.
“Your secret is safe with me, Rodney,” Teyla answered, managing to sound reassuring in spite of the pain in her voice.
Ronon turned back towards the doorway. “Can’t promise that.” Lifting his gun, he slowly walked to the door, carefully stepped over the trip wire and disappeared into the darkness.
“Great,” Rodney muttered. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Possibly,” Teyla answered, what little amusement she had in her voice, completely gone. “But we must get John back and get him through this, first.”
Rodney’s thoughts abruptly shifted back to the present situation and he nodded. “Yeah.”
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John staggered to a stop, the bright sunlight assaulting his eyes faster than he could adjust. He threw a hand over his eyes for a moment before dropping it and squinting at the long, flat rooftop in front of him. After leaving the Wraith behind, the only path he’d found to escape led up two staircases and dumped him out here, on the roof and, as he looked around, at a dead end.
John ran across the crumbling surface, all the way to the edge and stopped, placing his hands on the short lip. He looked down, eliminating the option of jumping. It was too high. It’d be suicide. He turned back, his gaze narrowing at the dark doorway he’d only emerged from a minute before. He’d taken one of them in the leg last time. That left two for pursuit. He looked down at the nearly empty mag in his P-90. He didn’t have another one, which left only his .45 side arm and one extra clip. Moving left, he jumped behind a short wall, probably the remains of some sort of room, and stared intently at the doorway. It took a lot of ammo to bring these guys down, and at this point, he wasn’t entirely sure he had enough to do the job. John’s eyes narrowed. That wouldn’t stop him from trying.
Shoot ‘till we can’t shoot anymore…
John shook his head, the almost dreamlike memory fleeing as fast as it’d happened. Cold resolution settled over him. He’d been captured before, tortured before… fed on before. Looking over his shoulder, John reassured himself that he had a clear pathway to the edge of the rooftop. It was a last resort-one more option if everything else failed-but he wouldn’t let himself be captured again.
Taking a deep breath, John refocused his attention on the doorway and waited.
---------------------------
Ronon rounded a corner on the narrow stairwell and stopped, staring at the bright sunlit doorway waiting for him at the top of one more flight of stairs. There had been no other pathways, no other alternate routes Sheppard could’ve taken as Ronon chased after him. He knew, without a doubt, that Sheppard was up there somewhere.
He lifted his gun and slowly walked up the final flight of stairs, watching, waiting for some indication of where his friend was. He knew he was likely walking into an ambush, but he wouldn’t turn back. Ronon’s gaze narrowed. In the few years he’d been on Sheppard’s team, he’d felt the strong bond they all shared. He knew without a doubt that if their positions were reversed, Sheppard would do the same thing he was doing now. He just hoped that he’d spot whatever trap was waiting for him, before Sheppard had a chance to spring it.
Ronon stopped at the doorway and peeked out, the sunshine warming his head, but only silence greeted him. Slowly, he stepped out onto the roof.
A flash of movement to his right was the only warning Ronon got and he dove behind a large chunk of rubble as P-90 fire chewed holes into the crumbling stone shielding him. “Sheppard!” Ronon shouted, flinching as small pieces of flying rock stung him in the face. “Sheppard!” Ronon heard his voice echo and fade as P-90 fire was replaced with ominous silence. Slowly, he bent left and looked around the edge of the rubble towards Sheppard’s position and reflexively ducked back as .45 bullets pounded into the rubble. “Damn it!” He hunched over, not lifting his head, until the gunfire once again ceased. Looking over the top, he sent a few stunner shots Sheppard’s direction, but was forced to duck again, as Sheppard emptied a second clip in his direction.
Ronon waited in silence for a couple moments. If Sheppard followed standard, off-world protocol, he’d only had the two clips for his sidearm and the fact that he was using it in the first place told Ronon he was out of ammo for the P-90. Ronon decided to play his hunch that John was out of ammo and tried once again to get through to his friend.
“John,” he called. It wasn’t often Ronon used Sheppard’s first name. In Satedan military, it simply wasn’t done, and all the encouragement by Sheppard to the contrary was never all that effective in breaking old habits. But Ronon overcame reflex now, searching for some way to get through to his friend. “C’mon buddy, it’s me. Ronon.” He heard footsteps crunching in debris, their pace fast and he looked out, his eyes widening in alarm.
Sheppard had swiftly crossed the distance between his cover and the edge of the roof. Before Ronon could react, Sheppard jumped up onto the edge, his gaze fixed on the ground below.
“Not… gonna… be… captured…” John’s voice shook and his breaths came fast and heavy.
“John,” Ronon slowly stood, forcing himself to be slow and calm. At this point, stunning Sheppard was out of the question as he’d likely fall over the edge. It left Ronon with only one option and one he felt decidedly unsuited for. He holstered his gun, and raised his free hand in a placating gesture. He stifled his discomfort at being so far out his element in favor of talking the delusional man down. “Don’t do it.” He took a step forward.
Sheppard looked back at him, his eyes narrowing. “W…wraith,” he stammered, but his uneven voice still held a note of uncertainty.
Ronon’s instincts went on point at the note of doubt he heard. Whether it was the effects of the bite starting to wear off, or if he was somehow getting through to Sheppard, Ronon didn’t know, nor did he care. “I’m not a wraith,” he insisted quietly, taking another step. “C’mon, Sheppard, we’ve been through too much for you not to know that I’m your friend.” It took everything he had not to leap forward as Sheppard wobbled.
Sheppard blinked hard and shook his head slightly. His eyes slid shut and he wobbled again, before he opened them and looked hard at Ronon, his gaze still glassy. “Ronon?”
Ronon took that as a good sign and swiftly walked up to him. He held out his hand. “Yeah.”
Abruptly, Sheppard’s eyes widened and he leaned back towards the edge. “Wraith!”
Ronon didn’t take any time to think, he just reacted. Reaching out, he grabbed Sheppard’s arms and pulled, stopping his friend from leaping off the side of the building. He held tight as they fell, hitting the ground hard. Sheppard struggled against him, shouting and fighting like a man possessed, but Ronon hung on, trying to keep his friend from escaping as his mind raced for some way to subdue him. Ronon rolled, pinning Sheppard under him, but that only made his friend fight harder.
Sheppard wrenched an arm loose and the next thing Ronon knew, he was thrown off balance by a vicious right cross, allowing Sheppard to squirm free. Ronon rolled to his right and into a crouch. He looked up, eyes widening as Sheppard struggled to his feet, his eyes zeroed in on the edge of the building as he surged forward.
With a swift reflex, honed by years of combat, Ronon smoothly drew his gun and bulls-eyed a shot directly in the center of Sheppard’s back.
Wordlessly, Sheppard crumpled to the ground.
Ronon sagged as he stared at the motionless form of his friend. Pushing to his feet, Ronon walked over, knelt next to Sheppard and nodded in satisfaction as the unconscious man’s pulse beat steadily against his fingers.
Ronon rubbed his sore jaw and winced as his bandaged arm protested just as loud. “You had that coming, Sheppard.”
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John pushed his way up through the darkness, scattered thoughts coming into focus as slowly as his gaze did through partially opened eyes. He groaned and shifted, immediately regretting the move as his stiff and sore body protested. He groaned again and this time heard a quiet shuffle by his bed.
“Colonel?” a light, female voice questioned him.
“Doc,” he whispered and turned his head, his gaze fixing on Keller’s smiling face.
“Welcome back,” she answered. “How do you feel?”
“Like I was stunned,” he answered. “Ronon?”
“You deserved it for being such a pain in the ass.”
John turned his head towards the second voice, watching as Rodney walked up to his bed, giving him a mock glare. Teyla limped up behind him and Ronon brought up the rear. John’s gaze narrowed at Teyla’s limp and the light bandage circling Ronon’s bicep. “You guys okay?”
“Besides being shot by you,” Rodney interjected, “and somehow surviving two ambushes and a booby trap set by… oh yes, you! Yes, we’re fine.”
John’s gaze narrowed. “I wasn’t talking to you, Rodney.” He furrowed his brow. “Booby trap?” His jaw dropped. “I… shot you?”
Teyla walked up next to his bed and smiled reassuringly. “You were not in your right mind, John. You thought we were wraith and acted accordingly.”
“Led us on a pretty good chase too,” Ronon added.
John shook his head, the soft feel of the pillow against it doing nothing to comfort him. “I could’ve killed you.”
“It isn’t your fault, Colonel,” Keller walked to the foot of his bed and smiled at him. “We were able to identify the venom from your tests and cross-referenced it in the database. Violent delusions with an unusual ability for rational thought were common symptoms of this sort of venom. You were bitten by a rare insect, not found on very many planets according to the Ancients.” She glanced down at the tablet in her hand. “The good thing is the Ancients developed an antivenin for it and we have the formula. We’ll make sure anyone that goes to that planet, has it with them.”
“Leave it to Sheppard to be bit by a rare, venomous insect,” Rodney’s voice was decidedly annoyed.
“Be nice, Rodney,” Keller shot him a mock glare. She looked back at John and her smile returned. “And more good news is you’re going to be fine. Your blood work is almost normal. I’ll probably keep you here for another day and you’ll be out.”
John looked first at Teyla and then at Ronon. “Sorry,” he muttered.
Teyla’s reassuring smile persisted. “Do not give it any more thought.”
“I got to stun you,” Ronon added. “We’re even.”
John smiled just a little, his mood improving.
“And McKay thinks you’re damn smart,” Ronon added, mischief coloring his expression.
John’s brows climbed up in surprise and his smile deepened at Rodney’s pained expression. “Really?”
“Ohhh… no,” Rodney lamented. “I thought we weren’t going to tell him I said that!”
“I never said that,” Ronon answered, smiling smugly.
“Thanks, McKay,” John gave him a smug look. “I mean, being MENSA and everything….”
“Just…stop!” Rodney brusquely interrupted. “It wasn’t that big of a deal, just a moment of inspired thought on your part that maybe, briefly, brought you a little closer to where my brilliance resides all the time. But you, my dear colonel, are not me!”
John started, deadpan at Rodney. “Thank God.”
Rodney sucked in a deep breath and stopped, mouth open and expression confused. He clamped his mouth shut, narrowed his gaze in obvious irritation and huffed once. He turned, breezing out the door without another word or a second glance.
Feeling rather proud of himself, John smiled and waggled his eyebrows at Teyla as he nestled his head deeper into his pillow.
Teyla chuckled quietly. “Get some rest, Colonel.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Keller added.
John pulled in a deep breath and nodded. Truthfully, he was too tired to argue and sleep sounded pretty good at the moment. He closed his eyes, listening to the shuffle as his friends left him in peace. He chuckled a little at the thought of a pissed McKay storming down the halls of Atlantis. Inwardly, John shrugged. He’d get over it and it’d all blow over by tomorrow.
John’s thoughts briefly passed over the bits and pieces of his ordeal that he could remember, tied into what they’d told him. He’s shot at them, set booby traps and yet they’d still gone after him. One side of John’s mouth lifted in a drowsy smile as his body relaxed and he started to doze off.
Of course they did. That’s what teams do.
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Author’s Notes: Okay, so the “Summer” pic challenge turned into an “Autumn” pic challenge for me. Heh. That’s what I get for moving in July/August. LOL What a fun challenge! I love looking at pictures and writing a story around them.
HUGE Thanks to coolbreeze1 for finding time in her very busy schedule to beta this story for me yesterday. Thank you so much sweetie! You’re the best! :D