Trust (4/11)
Title: “Trust”
Author: Obsessed1
Rating: K+
Genre: Gen, Action/Adv, H/C
Characters: Sheppard, Dave Sheppard. Team.
Spoilers: Takes place in Season 4. After Outcast.
Summary: Sheppard and his brother are forced to spend some time together when they're kidnapped by the Trust.
Thanks to Kristen999 for being my beta.
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John had tried not to pass out but it turned out he did anyway and when he came to, he was in the back seat of a black van, pinned between two guys, his knees crushed painfully together.
“Where we heading?” he asked, looking from one man to the other.
Neither of them acknowledged him. He scratched a hand through his hair, forgetting about the gauze on his temple. Touching the tender area sent a throb of pain through his head and he swallowed against rising bile. The van took a corner tightly and he was jarred to the side. He grit his teeth and clamped his eyes shut.
“Uh, you might want to drive more carefully. Not feeling too hot back here.”
Again John was ignored and thought it would be some small victory if he managed to puke all over one of these guys knees.
The more he was tossed around, the more he was made aware of the closed confines and the two bodies pressed unbearably against him. When he started sweating and his stomach churned he knew he’d lost the internal battle.
“I’m going to be sick,” he said matter-of-factly, to which one of the men shuffled aside to give him room. “Seriously guys…….”
A bump in the road had John swallowing the bile that was rushing into his mouth. His captor to the left leaned in close and obviously recognized the signs, because he was creeping forward and banging on the wall of the van. A small compartment slid open, he whispered something to the driver and then the van was pulled over sharply.
With the engine still running, the door was slid open and Sheppard moved to get up immediately. A hand on his shoulder and a gun in his back reminded him not to do anything stupid. That was the least of John’s concerns. He crawled to the open door and vomited.
The cool air on his face was a welcome relief and as he coughed and wiped his mouth he took the opportunity to have a look around at their surroundings. He didn’t know how long they’d been driving but he recognized the terrain.
He got sloppy, took too long and he was pulled back into the van.
“Thanks, I-“
John wasn’t expecting what happened next. Before he could react, he was pushed face down onto the floor.
“What the hell?”
The waistband of his pants was hitched down to expose his thigh. John struggled against the hands that had him immobile. There was the glint of something metal in his peripheral vision and suddenly the pain in his head was long forgotten and replaced by excruciating agony in his thigh.
A string of expletives escaped his mouth and one of the men clamped his mouth shut as he panted and squirmed beneath them.
It was as if every nerve ending in his body had woken up and were all screaming for respite. Something was buried into the wound and John tried to bite the hand over his mouth.
“You found it?” he heard one of the men say.
Whatever was digging around in his leg hurt like a bitch. More nerve endings were violated, sending spasms of white hot agony through his body and he choked on more bile.
And then it was over and John could feel the blood dripping down his leg as they finally released him.
“Got it!”
John tried to even out his breathing and work out what had just happened to him.
“What the…….. fuck was……. that?”
But before they’d even answered, his addled brain managed to figure it out and he knew he was screwed.
They’d removed his subcutaneous transmitter. The only way that Rodney could track him. His only hope for rescue.
The van started up again and the transmitter was tossed out the window.
There was a sharp burst of pain in the back of his head and then the floor was rushing up meet him.
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Dave Sheppard had been sitting in the same room for hours.
He hadn’t eaten and his stomach protested loudly. There were no facilities in what looked like a storage room. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him. This only happened in the films.
Dave continued to sit, tapping his fingers against his thigh, wondering if anyone would ever find him here. Apart from his brother there was nobody to check in with him and he hadn’t exactly heard from John before the funeral. A four year marriage had recently ended in divorce and the only other person that he’d regular contact with was dead. Before his father’s death, they’d shared a strong bond out of circumstance.
The dead bolt was released and Dave pushed himself further into the corner, feeling a mixture of relief and fear.
Four men dragged somebody in. Whoever it was, they were out cold and their feet scraping lifelessly across the floor.
It was only when they deposited the man on the ground did he realize it was John.
“What have you done to him?” Dave went to get up but one of the men pinched a nerve in his shoulder and he was reduced to his knees, eyes watering in pain.
He watched from the sidelines feeling horribly detached.
Mike was leaning against the door frame. He gave John a long look before turning to leave.
The door was closed and dead bolted again.
For a long time, Dave just stayed where he was and stared at John. He was lying on his front, hands splayed out beside him with his legs twisted awkwardly. He noticed the gauze on his head and couldn’t work out how that had happened.
What had his brother done?
He’d considered the possibility that John had flown special operations missions. Too many times John had just upped and disappeared and on more than one occasion Nancy had been on the phone, fraught with worry because she didn’t know how to reach his brother. She never knew the nature of John’s work in the Air Force despite climbing the ladder at the Pentagon.
“John?” he crawled across the floor, ignoring the dirt and grime and came to kneel beside his brother.
He wasn’t a doctor but John didn’t look good. He was breathing in short sharp pants.
“John?” He reached out for his hand and gave it an experimental tug. “Hey…….”
There was a flicker of life under John's eyelids and the ghost of movement.
“John?” Dave looked over at the door nervously and then back to his brother.
He didn’t know what to do or how to make this right. This wasn’t the boardroom and his other area of expertise was fine wines, classical music and horses. He hadn’t acknowledged this world even existed. For the first time in along time, since John had first left for Afghanistan, he was worried for his brother.
“Dammit John.”
Dave stood and walked over to the door.
He hammered on it in quick succession and shouted. “Hey! Can anyone hear me? My brother needs medical attention!” He waited and when there was no answer tried again. “You can’t just leave him like this……please?”
John groaned but he wasn’t making an attempt to wake up. Dave felt panicked. He couldn’t recall a time when he had really seen anybody unconscious like this.
“Hey! We need help in here!”
Having no luck at the door, he returned to his brother’s side.
“I don’t know what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into,” he told John as he made himself more comfortable. “But you have some serious explaining to do.”
Dave sat beside John for hours, periodically checking that he was still breathing and berating his unconscious sibling for having dragged him into this mess. John would stir occasionally, make some nonsense sound and then resume his perfect impression of a dead body.
Their captors bought him some water and food at one point. Dave managed to appeal to one of the men’s better sides and a wet rag was given to him to wipe the dried blood off John’s face.
He was just finishing the last of his sandwich when John started to groan again, only this time, he moved his hand and seemed on his way back to the land of the living.
Dave felt an odd surge of over protectiveness for his younger brother. “Hey Mop Top,” he scolded him in a low voice. “Wake up!”
He waited, cringing at the verbalization of a childhood nickname that hadn’t been uttered in years. And then….
“I told you……never to call me that again.” John rewarded him with a scowl, his eyes blessedly open.
Dave smiled and released the breath he had been holding for so long. “You look like hell.”
“Feel it…” John said as he pressed his forehead against the cool floor. “You okay?”
He couldn’t believe John was asking if he was okay. He wasn’t the one bleeding from a nasty head wound. He wasn’t the one that had been dragged in unconscious. “Not really. Can’t say I understand what’s going on if I’m completely honest.”
“My fault.” John told him, voice slurred with weariness. “Sorry.”
John reached out a hand and Dave managed to get him in a sitting position that comprised of him leaning into his knees and breathing heavily.
“What’s going on John?”
His brother glanced at him guiltily but didn’t offer an explanation.
“John?”
“There are……a few things you don’t know about me….”
“You’re telling me!” His relief at his brother waking quickly evolved into anger. “You disappear for years and then-”
“That’s kind of what I’m talking about.” John moved to get up and Dave tried to stop him, but his brother was stubborn. Always had been. “But we can’t talk here. They might be listening.”
“They? You know, I’m tired and more than a little pissed off right now. The least you could do is tell me something!”
“Like I said.” John raised his hands to placate him. “I’ll explain everything when I know we can talk. Right now, we’ve got to keep our heads down and-”
Dave stood to join him. “You’ve done something haven’t you?”
“No.”
“Well you’ve got these guys going all out to bring you here!”
“Please,” John begged as he rubbed at his temples. “Not now.”
There was an edge to his voice that Dave wasn’t familiar with. He had so many questions but his brother was being frustratingly evasive. He couldn’t help but think that it shouldn’t be this way. They should be closer. Most people he knew got along with their brothers or sisters. He couldn’t understand why they couldn't be like the millions of siblings in the world, fighting over trivial things instead of years of silence and secrecy.
“You’re not looking too good. Maybe you should sit down.”
“I’m fine Dave.”
“Just like you were fine when you fell of one of the thoroughbreds?”
“In my defense, I thought my arm was just bruised.”
“It was broken.”
John gave him a look that told him he was bored of hearing the story.
“And it wasn’t till a day later that we found that out. Dad was furious.”
“Dad was mad that I rode one of the horses.”
“Well you should have known better.”
“I thought I could handle it.”
Dave couldn’t help smile a little. He didn’t know which was funnier; the moment John fell off the horse or John’s face when he realized the horse was bolting the paddock. It took him thirty minutes to persuade it to come back.
John leaned against the far wall; hands braced either side of him for support. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”
“So am I,” Dave reflexively smoothed the creases out of his pants and tried to rub the grime out of his shirt. “I’ve got an important meeting with the shareholders tomorrow morning and we’ve got a new colt arriving that needs breaking in. I guess I’ll have to reschedule.”
He saw John’s eyes glaze over at the mention of the business. Even now he couldn’t even maintain a superficial interest.
“I’ll get us out of here. My team will find us.”
“More civilian contractors?”
“They’ll find us.”
“You know that for sure?”
“I do.” And then John looked up when the door began to open.
John, for whatever reason, pushed himself off the far wall and came to stand in front of him. Being taller, Dave could still see over the top of that mess John called hair.
Mike entered the room. “Colonel Sheppard.”
John took a limping step forward. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“No,” Mike told him. “We haven’t. But I’ve read all about you.”
“Always nice to have fans. You went to all this trouble to get an autograph right?” John quipped and Dave couldn’t help but think it was a little cocky to presume he could get away with juvenile jokes.
“If you’ll follow me, we can have a chat in private.”
John advanced without question and without fear. He spared a look at Dave. “I’ll be right back.”
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