The Fires Within (1/1)
I have been reading fanfiction for many years and have toyed with the idea of writing my own stories. Recently, I began a couple of tentative attempts to write. Then, while enjoying my daily dose of 30 Days of Shep Whump, one of the prompts "sparked" an idea…
Title: The Fires Within
Author: tridget
Genre: angst, h/c, gen
Rating: T for mild swearing and references to torture - nothing graphic
Warnings: References to torture and violence without graphic details
Word Count: About 1,100
Summary: The team suffers from the fallout when Colonel Sheppard goes missing.
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and its characters are the property of other people/companies, but I am not sure exactly who really owns them. They are certainly not mine. I am not affiliated with any of these entities. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: This is my first fanfiction. A special thanks goes to x_erikah_x, who encouraged me to give this a shot and provided me with many useful reference links. Thank you to my beta reader, ladyniko, whose corrections were greatly appreciated and whose review encouraged me to persist.
THE FIRES WITHIN
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After the spark, some fires barely ignite. They merely smolder before fizzling out. With a well-placed arrangement of tinder, kindling and fuel, some sparks may ignite a fire that burns well for long periods of time. There are many practical uses for such a fire. Occasionally, a spark may ignite a conflagration. A conflagration blazes uncontrolled, destroying that which lies in its path.
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Colonel Sheppard vanished during the mission.
Major Lorne headed up the search and rescue team from Atlantis.
Elizabeth Weir watched the fire die in Lorne’s eyes when he admitted failure. She fought to control the tears she shed in private, each drop of water seeming to douse the flames of hope.
The first spark had fizzled.
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The torture began insidiously with inadequate amounts of food and water. Then came sleep deprivation. While John’s body fought succumbing to exhaustion one thought burned in his mind and spirit. He had to find his team and get them all back to Atlantis. His captors couldn’t extinguish that.
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Colonel Sheppard had been missing for over two months.
Rodney ranted. He blamed Ronon and Teyla for not protecting Sheppard. He blamed Lorne for his fruitless search of the planet. He blamed Dr. Weir for sending them on this mission. Rodney even blamed Colonel Caldwell and the Daedalus for being a galaxy away in orbit around earth unable to assist. He burned them all with his words. Most of them took to avoiding his line of fire.
Rodney reserved the fires of Hell for himself. He blamed himself for suggesting that there might be items of scientific value on the planet. He blamed himself for being selfishly engrossed in his inspection of a roomful of artifacts when Colonel Sheppard vanished. And he blamed himself for not being able to devise a way to trace his friend. While guilt burned in his soul, the sedatives supplied by Dr. Beckett threatened to extinguish the brilliant flame of his mind.
But Teyla knew how to tame a fire. She could coax the flames into service. Growing up on Athos, Teyla had learned how to build a practical fire that could cook the day’s nourishment and warm a home for many days. With proper control, the fire from a hearth would not damage a home while it warmed the inhabitants.
Teyla heard the fire roar as she approached Rodney’s room. She knocked on the door hoping to be heard above the din of crashing furniture and his yelling. Rodney thought the door open with his mind preparing to pitch his laptop at the person who dared to intrude. “Get out of my room…leave me alone!” The inferno within Rodney raged.
“Dr. McKay…” Teyla spoke his name softly as she crossed the room.
“I told you to go away. Are you listening to me? Do you not fully understand our language yet?” Rodney’s words failed to singe her.
“Rodney…” Teyla softly grasped one of Rodney’s hands and guided him to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Beckett sent you, didn’t he?” Rodney accused. “He knows I’ve stopped taking the pills. Tell him he can…”
On a nearby table, Teyla began to arrange a few candles that she had brought with her.
“Wh…what…what are you doing? I don’t need a…a….ridiculous candle ceremony,” Rodney stammered as the fire within him began to splutter.
Teyla sang quietly as she lit the candles.
“You know, meditating on a lump of wax is not going to bring…It’s not going to help us find…It’s not…Nothing is…” Rodney choked on the words.
The flaming Atlantean sun sunk below the horizon while Teyla held Rodney in her arms as a mother comforting a small child. Teyla’s warmth and tranquility had more effect than the entire bottle of the damned pills. Rodney sat still. When the darkness came, the flames from Teyla’s candles burned brightly. Rodney was mesmerized by the flames.
He had an idea.
Rodney worked feverishly for the next week. Wisely, Zelenka refrained from asking him why he required candlelight at his workstation when the lights of Atlantis seemed bright enough.
By the end of the week, Rodney had a plan.
The second spark, carefully tended, had yielded a useful fire.
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John’s captors turned up the heat. The pain began. John’s stoic silence gave way to inarticulate screams until his voice grew hoarse. The drugs assaulted his mind until his thoughts seemed to be swept away in a cloud of thick black smoke. Still, John’s spirit focused unwavering on the need to return to Atlantis with his team. His captors gained nothing.
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Colonel Sheppard had been missing for three months.
Getting to the cell where Colonel Sheppard had been kept had been the easy part. Getting the cell open had not been too difficult either. Opening the cell set off the alarms. Getting out was going to be the hard part.
Ronon rushed across the cell to where John lay huddled in the corner. John’s battered appearance confirmed Ronon’s impression that the facility was more of a torture chamber than a jail. There was no need to check if John was still alive or not. The tremors wracking his body gave that away.
There was no time for even rudimentary first aid. They had to get out of the facility. Now.
Ronon knelt to scoop John in his arms. Stirring momentarily, John’s eyelids fluttered. He took another stuttering breath. “Home,” he whispered, his voice tapering out like a thin wisp of smoke from a candle.
Ronon adjusted John carefully so that he was still able to use the blaster clutched in his hand. Hearing a click as Ronan adjusted the setting, Teyla glanced questioningly at Ronon. She knew the weapon had been switched from stun to kill. “They deserve to die,” Ronon growled.
Ronon ran through the facility with Sheppard in his arms, dispatching several guards on the way. He didn’t track how many men he killed. He was too busy checking that the man in his arms continued to breathe.
The team fled to the nearby jumper. With Lorne piloting, the medics attended to John in the back. As the jumper lifted into the air Ronon stared at the building below. “Burn it, McKay!” Ronon commanded. Rodney hesitated for a second. His eyes flickered to where John lay in the back of the jumper. Then, he took a deep breath and focused on one thought. Destruction. As Rodney's hand settled on the jumper controls beside Lorne, the jumper joined in the sentiment firing rapidly and precisely on the facility. The building erupted in flames as the jumper sped toward the gate.
The third spark ignited a conflagration.
But no more souls would suffer there.
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When they returned home, Atlantis hummed. Her song, inaudible to most, was filled with the sound of the soothing ocean waves. And in time, her waters would heal them all.
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The End