(no subject)
Title: Flash of the Blade
Rating: PG-13
By: Jenda Vis
Spoilers: Up through Reunion
Pairing: Sheppard/Dex
Genre: Drama, WIP
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: Sheppard can't figure Ronon out. Or his motives.
A/N: Okay, it's finally starting to come together. Though it's still twice as long as I thought it was going to be (I had delusions of being able to finish it in 4 chapters. D'oh!)
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
The bells are starting to sound, down in the square, and footsteps are filtering onto the street around the corner. Panicked voices- the councilor is dead- murdered- stabbed- and the gritty ring of metal on metal- knives being drawn from scabbards. A gun being loaded.
He needs to find Sheppard and the team, needs to go to the inn, first. Before all this hits. Needs to know what's happening, but Sahlen's there, stumbling from the opposite alley, manic, grasping at him as he stumbled.
"Ronon. The ring. Follow them!" Ronon's hands come away from Sahlen's arms, wet with blood. "There's no time. Dangerous. You need to go."
"What about you-"
"The assailants only grazed me. I will survive. The guards. They suspect your friends," Sahlen coughed, holding one hand up against the bleeding. "They're looking for you. You must go before they close the ring." With his other, he held out a knife, pressing the handle into Ronon's hand before slumping against the wall. "Go!"
The chaos was boiling over out in the street, but Ronon met Sahlen's eye once more and nodded his thanks. And began to run.
Around the corner, the gate shed watery blue light over confused bystanders stepping out of doorways, heading towards the din. Ronon doesn't turn back to see the growing mob. Doesn't need to. He knows they're watching him, can see the beginnings of arms being raised in accusation, and it's completely fucked, but he can't risk stopping, because they'll probably raise weapons next.
He takes the three steps to the gate in one leap, and his foot touches down only once more on this world.
He's slides to a step on the wet grass, leaning over to catch his breath, and listens to the gate shut down behind him.
Behind him, now, on the other side of the gate or across too much sky to fathom, his team is being captured, surrounded and outnumbered. Outgunned and gunned down.
McKay's computer cracks under the impact, the shrapnel slices into his flesh, slipping too easily between unprotected ribs. John's firing on the crowd and Teyla falls to her knees, focusing on Rodney, scrabbling at the wound, hands not knowing how to help, not blocking the heavy blade swinging at her throat, and John's run out of bullets, he's reaching for his sidearm but it's all. Too. Late.
In the morning, Atlantis sends someone to recover the bodies, and a hush falls over the city while a tiny technical hiccup goes unnoticed and begins to grow. The unusual power drainage won't be noticed until Zelenka is alone in the lab in the middle of his third sleepless night, but he waits until morning to notify Carter himself. It doesn't occur to him that there's no one else already handling it.
Carter pulls herself away from the computer screen she's been staring at for an hour, the cursor blinking at the end of the last line, but she still hasn't sent the message back to Earth. She should tell Sheppard's family in person. He deserves the same respect she was able to show Teyla that first morning, three days ago when she visited the Athosian settlement for the first time.
But there's no time for that, because the long-range sensors have been offline for nine hours now, and she's puzzling through the system, trying to think like McKay to pull some sort of solution out of the crossed signals, and now she's done it. She's thinking in McKay's terms as the answer reveals itself as two wraith cruisers already scanning the planet.
Her hand is reaching for the radio when the first blast hits. And everything goes white.
---
The sunlight sliced through his eyelids and straight to the core of his brain, blocking out every other sense Ronon tried to remember having.
After a moment, though, or maybe an hour, the wave crested over him, and awareness began to return. Sounds, distant and hurried and ringing painfully in his ears, broke down into voices, building into words and stretching towards meaning.
He had to open his eyes, but the world was too much for him. Shadows, possibly faces and a hand reaching towards his face, brushing across his temple.
"Ronon," he heard, and it was finally something to hone in on. A capstone being pulled away to bring everything else down with it, and as everything began to fall into place, not enough of it was making any sense.
Itris and Lunz were shaking him, looking down with blurry faces and calling back over their shoulders, but their voices were so loud as to be deafening, and Ronon's head was still swimming. He needed water, not this noise washing over him.
---
When Ronon woke, it was because he was already walking, tripping over cobblestone as he leaned against someone- Sheppard- no. Lunz. He raised his head to see the Itris stepping hurriedly in front of them, moving towards the inn. Wanted to raise a hand after her, get her attention, but it hung heavy and numb at his side. Must've fallen asleep on it.
Itris turned back towards them, fear in her eyes. "Not much longer. Just get him into bed, I'll bring the healer." Why? Can you tell me what's wrong? But Ronon couldn't ask. She was already gone.
Then they stepped through a door into darkness, and Ronon could smell food cooking. The inn. We're at the inn, but he wanted water, and he was going to ask Lunz, but they were already on the stairs. First one, then another, then a third.
---
Ronon could barely open his eyes enough to tell the ceiling from the wall, and his limbs might have been too weak to shift. Numb. But there was movement, off to his right, and a voice that called out, "Mother! He's waking up again!" Atura, probably, though he never saw her.
A few moments more, and there were hurried footsteps and a swish of bright color, followed by Itris, leaning over him.
"Ronon. You are very ill," he heard, but couldn't understand the relief in her voice. "We found you out by the East River. The healer says you must rest, and if you can hold water down this time, you can have something to eat in a while. Are you thirsty?"
Yes, Ronon thought loudly, but it was all he could do to nod his head. It made his vision swim even more, but at least it blurred the worry in her eyes.
---
The smell of the ocean was sharp when John stepped outside, and found Ronon waiting for him. Neither said anything as they began to run an easy pace.
"Didn't think you were gonna come out today." John risked a glance at the bruises rising to the surface of Ronon's skin. The angry scuff of dried blood scabbing over on his bicep. The most visible remnants of his reunion with his traitorous people, but not the only ones.
"Likewise," Ronon sneered, eyes on the end of the pier.
"You pissed off?" Of course it was a stupid question, he knew it even before he heard the sarcasm.
"Nah, why would I be?"
They ran in silence, down to the end of the first pier and back again, and were turning out towards the second when Ronon finally began to slow down a little, and John took it as an opening.
"Okay, I get it. Yesterday sucked. I'm sorry about that."
Ronon slowed to a walk, but wouldn't look at John. "Not just yesterday, though."
"What do you mean?"
"When were you gonna tell me that I'm. Whatever I am."
"What're you talking about?"
"Carter was going to try and stop me from leaving with my squad. Said I was a security risk."
"Do you still want to leave?"
"I. That's not the point, John." Ronon turned that angry searching look on him. "I just want to know. Am I a prisoner? Slave? What?"
"You're on my team. You're one of us."
"As long as I stay in line."
"Same as anyone else here," John regretted the words the moment they came out. "But listen. This was all screwed up. Carter's still feeling her way-"
"She doesn't trust me."
"You didn't give her a chance to."
"You didn't have my back, either."
"And I'm sorry about that, but you weren't making it easy."
Ronon shook his head and kept running.
---
A little more than a month too late, John sat in Carter's office, and realized what he should have said, that day out on the pier with the sun shining down. That his concern had been for Ronon, that Carter's had been for the city. It wasn't entirely that clear-cut or honest, John knew, but it might have been what Ronon needed to hear.
It might have been enough to prevent all of this.
We don't leave our people behind, and I shouldn't have to explain to everyone who our people are twice in once hour.
John shook his head to clear it, and looked back at Carter across her desk. He leaned forward to pass her his datapad, and indicated the map glowing on the screen. "There's a space gate not thirteen hours away, even if we can't open the gate from the other end."
"I understand that, but that's not our only concern here, Sheppard, and you know it. For one, we still don't know what made him step through the gate in the first place."
"We were under attack," Sheppard strove to maintain an even tone, but he knew he was close to losing it. This is just protocol.
"You were being arrested for a murder that Ronon may have committed, and he left you there. But that's neither here nor there. We still have no evidence that he is in need of retrieval."
"There's none to say otherwise, either. We should at least give him the benefit of the doubt." Sheppard sighed, stemming the impetus to steamroll her on this. Emotional outbursts wouldn't help. "Look. He might have his own motivations, but he wouldn't endanger the team. He wouldn't leave us hanging like that. He wouldn't leave without saying goodbye, at least."
"But the fact remains that he did," Carter reasoned, though the apologetic look in her eye made it evident that she was just doing her job. Crossing the T's and dotting the I's. A formality.
"As far as we know. Look," John interjected. "The orders we both signed off on said we'd resume the search when we had new information. Doesn't this count?"
"It's information from Ladon Radim," Carter shrugged. "Do you trust him?"
"Enough for this," Sheppard affirmed. "Besides. It makes sense. Ronon hasn't contacted us because he can't contact us. It's the best lead we've got. If you're still concerned he is a security risk, we should already be out there. And, if we don't do this, if we don't follow through, with all the yelling I just had to do at formation this morning, our credibility is shot. That enough for the IOA?"
"Perfect," Carter relaxed, then, leaving Sheppard feeling a little ridiculous in the wake of his outburst.
Carter typed a few things into the computer and nodded to herself. "All right. Clean contact and retrieval, running it through the alpha site for quarantine. Your tactics will be not only informed by, but determined by Keller's risk assessment, and I want two additional security officers with your team. Is that clear?"
"Crystal."
"One last thing, John. And I know what your answer is going to be, but I need to know. Will you be able to handle…" she trailed off, leaving Sheppard to fill in the blanks. That it might amount to nothing. That this could be the incident that results in a massive epidemic here in the city. That we might be too late. That we might not even be able to retrieve his body.
"Doesn't matter. Whatever's there to be found, I need to be there. I'll give Rodney and Teyla an out, but I'm not farming this out to another team."
"Understood. Go."
---
As soon as Keller was sure that the medics had all the evacuation supplies properly stowed, she closed the hatch, and announced that they were ready to go. Taking attendance in his head- his team, two security and three medics. Eight in all, nine returning, Sheppard waited for Keller to sit down before disengaging from the bay's docking mechanism.
"Control this is jumper one. We're ready to go."
"Dialing now, sir," Chuck said. "Okay, we've got a lock. You're cleared for takeoff."
Easing the jumper down into the gateroom, Sheppard glanced over at Teyla, who mirrored his own apprehension. McKay, though. That was another story.
McKay was no less terrified than Sheppard had expected, but he'd been the first to suit up. That he was there at all, heading into what had to be his own personal hell, was amazing. Sheppard wanted to tell him so, but wound up asking, instead, "McKay, you sure about this?"
"Of course not. Just. Hurry it up already, let's go."
---
Almost as soon as they were through, McKay was nodding to himself. "Keep bearing north. Looks like it should be up ahead." A few moments later, and Teyla's breath caught audibly in her throat.
"John, look," she pointed out the window, and John instantly recognized the shapes of scattered people, tracking their position and hurrying towards the safety of town.
"We've got life signs," Sheppard laughed. So far, at least, that was a point in their favor, allowing at least the possibility that Ronon himself was alive.
"McKay? Sensor readings?"
"Radiation is well within normal limits. Air is fine."
"You're all on respirators anyway, and I don't want you touching anything until I get a read on the situation," Keller piped up from the back, sliding her pack over her shoulders before slipping her hands into the gloves.
"Right."
Sheppard was the last to leave the jumper, hurrying to catch up to Teyla and McKay before the locals drew any nearer. Several, he noted, were armed, but only two of them were holding their weapons in a ready position. Shotguns, from the look of it.
"Hello," He began, forcing himself into an easy smile that would be utterly missed behind the mask. "My name is John Sheppard, and we come in peace." Something about saying that never got old, regardless of the circumstances. McKay, for once, didn't start sputtering in annoyed laughter.
A man, who looked vaguely familiar, though Sheppard couldn't place it, stepped forward from the crowd. "Greetings. I am Councilor Aval, and I welcome you and yours to Sanacra." He paused, clearly puzzled. "If I may ask, why do you not breathe the air?"
Keller stepped up next to Sheppard. "We have heard that there is a disease here that has caused several fatalities," she explained.
"We mean no offense by these barriers," Teyla cut in, kindly, her voice muffled behind her mask as she tipped her head forward, bowing gently. "But we feel we must take precautions."
"That is understandable," the man agreed, a worried look crossing over his face. "And wise. The sickness has been dormant for some time. We believed it to have been eradicated some time ago, but recent events caused much concern. This being so, why have you risked this visitation?"
"We're looking for a friend of ours," Sheppard began, but whatever he was about to say next was lost when he looked at the faces of the people staring back at him. Recognition.
"Is Ronon Dex the friend of whom you speak?"
"Yes." Sheppard was sure the sigh of relief was amplified to an embarrassing volume by the respirator. "You've seen him? Is he here?"
"Yes. But. He is the one who has fallen ill." Aval stepped back, waving an arm through the crowd. "Please. I will take you to him myself."
"How is he?" Keller hurried to step in front of Sheppard, who swallowed down the instinct to restrain her from moving so quickly in an unknown situation. "Please. I am a doctor."
They were moving towards the town, now, the crowd following, chattering quietly but excited.
"He seems to be recovering, but we do not know why, I am sorry to say," Sheppard heard Aval admit. "And please forgive my intentions here, but if you can discover anything that points to the cause, I would very much appreciate your sharing the knowledge with us."
"Of course," Keller said. "But it may require us to study it for a time, back in our own facilities. But we'd be-" she cut herself off, looking askance at Sheppard.
"We'd be more than happy to help in any way we can," he confirmed, wishing he could take the ventilator off.
"Thank you," Aval nodded his head, directing the crowd around a corner. "Here we are." He stopped in front of a building that was larger than the rest, an inn, and opened a door, leading the way inside.
There were several people in the dining area, staring, caught unawares, and Aval pointed up the stairs, where a woman with graying hair and a blinding tunic appeared, attracted by the commotion.
"Itris, these are Ronon's friends," Aval said, indicating the group.
"Come with me," she said, and waited for them to mount the stairs.
Sheppard signaled the Marines to wait where they were, and was surprised that Keller allowed his team to pass in front of her, appreciating the gesture even as he recognized it as protocol.
Up the stairs he went, breathing loudly in his mask, not turning to look at Teyla or Rodney.
Because up a few more steps, the woman was holding open a door and ushering a girl out of the hallway, telling her that they needed to make room, and then there was only one more step before he'd be able to look inside that room and see Ronon. He'd had weeks to think about it, but now. He didn't have any more time to prepare himself for what he was about to find.
Someone bumped into him, and he realized he'd stopped short and was staring, because Ronon Dex was looking right back at him.
Chapter 6
Rating: PG-13
By: Jenda Vis
Spoilers: Up through Reunion
Pairing: Sheppard/Dex
Genre: Drama, WIP
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: Sheppard can't figure Ronon out. Or his motives.
A/N: Okay, it's finally starting to come together. Though it's still twice as long as I thought it was going to be (I had delusions of being able to finish it in 4 chapters. D'oh!)
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
The bells are starting to sound, down in the square, and footsteps are filtering onto the street around the corner. Panicked voices- the councilor is dead- murdered- stabbed- and the gritty ring of metal on metal- knives being drawn from scabbards. A gun being loaded.
He needs to find Sheppard and the team, needs to go to the inn, first. Before all this hits. Needs to know what's happening, but Sahlen's there, stumbling from the opposite alley, manic, grasping at him as he stumbled.
"Ronon. The ring. Follow them!" Ronon's hands come away from Sahlen's arms, wet with blood. "There's no time. Dangerous. You need to go."
"What about you-"
"The assailants only grazed me. I will survive. The guards. They suspect your friends," Sahlen coughed, holding one hand up against the bleeding. "They're looking for you. You must go before they close the ring." With his other, he held out a knife, pressing the handle into Ronon's hand before slumping against the wall. "Go!"
The chaos was boiling over out in the street, but Ronon met Sahlen's eye once more and nodded his thanks. And began to run.
Around the corner, the gate shed watery blue light over confused bystanders stepping out of doorways, heading towards the din. Ronon doesn't turn back to see the growing mob. Doesn't need to. He knows they're watching him, can see the beginnings of arms being raised in accusation, and it's completely fucked, but he can't risk stopping, because they'll probably raise weapons next.
He takes the three steps to the gate in one leap, and his foot touches down only once more on this world.
He's slides to a step on the wet grass, leaning over to catch his breath, and listens to the gate shut down behind him.
Behind him, now, on the other side of the gate or across too much sky to fathom, his team is being captured, surrounded and outnumbered. Outgunned and gunned down.
McKay's computer cracks under the impact, the shrapnel slices into his flesh, slipping too easily between unprotected ribs. John's firing on the crowd and Teyla falls to her knees, focusing on Rodney, scrabbling at the wound, hands not knowing how to help, not blocking the heavy blade swinging at her throat, and John's run out of bullets, he's reaching for his sidearm but it's all. Too. Late.
In the morning, Atlantis sends someone to recover the bodies, and a hush falls over the city while a tiny technical hiccup goes unnoticed and begins to grow. The unusual power drainage won't be noticed until Zelenka is alone in the lab in the middle of his third sleepless night, but he waits until morning to notify Carter himself. It doesn't occur to him that there's no one else already handling it.
Carter pulls herself away from the computer screen she's been staring at for an hour, the cursor blinking at the end of the last line, but she still hasn't sent the message back to Earth. She should tell Sheppard's family in person. He deserves the same respect she was able to show Teyla that first morning, three days ago when she visited the Athosian settlement for the first time.
But there's no time for that, because the long-range sensors have been offline for nine hours now, and she's puzzling through the system, trying to think like McKay to pull some sort of solution out of the crossed signals, and now she's done it. She's thinking in McKay's terms as the answer reveals itself as two wraith cruisers already scanning the planet.
Her hand is reaching for the radio when the first blast hits. And everything goes white.
---
The sunlight sliced through his eyelids and straight to the core of his brain, blocking out every other sense Ronon tried to remember having.
After a moment, though, or maybe an hour, the wave crested over him, and awareness began to return. Sounds, distant and hurried and ringing painfully in his ears, broke down into voices, building into words and stretching towards meaning.
He had to open his eyes, but the world was too much for him. Shadows, possibly faces and a hand reaching towards his face, brushing across his temple.
"Ronon," he heard, and it was finally something to hone in on. A capstone being pulled away to bring everything else down with it, and as everything began to fall into place, not enough of it was making any sense.
Itris and Lunz were shaking him, looking down with blurry faces and calling back over their shoulders, but their voices were so loud as to be deafening, and Ronon's head was still swimming. He needed water, not this noise washing over him.
---
When Ronon woke, it was because he was already walking, tripping over cobblestone as he leaned against someone- Sheppard- no. Lunz. He raised his head to see the Itris stepping hurriedly in front of them, moving towards the inn. Wanted to raise a hand after her, get her attention, but it hung heavy and numb at his side. Must've fallen asleep on it.
Itris turned back towards them, fear in her eyes. "Not much longer. Just get him into bed, I'll bring the healer." Why? Can you tell me what's wrong? But Ronon couldn't ask. She was already gone.
Then they stepped through a door into darkness, and Ronon could smell food cooking. The inn. We're at the inn, but he wanted water, and he was going to ask Lunz, but they were already on the stairs. First one, then another, then a third.
---
Ronon could barely open his eyes enough to tell the ceiling from the wall, and his limbs might have been too weak to shift. Numb. But there was movement, off to his right, and a voice that called out, "Mother! He's waking up again!" Atura, probably, though he never saw her.
A few moments more, and there were hurried footsteps and a swish of bright color, followed by Itris, leaning over him.
"Ronon. You are very ill," he heard, but couldn't understand the relief in her voice. "We found you out by the East River. The healer says you must rest, and if you can hold water down this time, you can have something to eat in a while. Are you thirsty?"
Yes, Ronon thought loudly, but it was all he could do to nod his head. It made his vision swim even more, but at least it blurred the worry in her eyes.
---
The smell of the ocean was sharp when John stepped outside, and found Ronon waiting for him. Neither said anything as they began to run an easy pace.
"Didn't think you were gonna come out today." John risked a glance at the bruises rising to the surface of Ronon's skin. The angry scuff of dried blood scabbing over on his bicep. The most visible remnants of his reunion with his traitorous people, but not the only ones.
"Likewise," Ronon sneered, eyes on the end of the pier.
"You pissed off?" Of course it was a stupid question, he knew it even before he heard the sarcasm.
"Nah, why would I be?"
They ran in silence, down to the end of the first pier and back again, and were turning out towards the second when Ronon finally began to slow down a little, and John took it as an opening.
"Okay, I get it. Yesterday sucked. I'm sorry about that."
Ronon slowed to a walk, but wouldn't look at John. "Not just yesterday, though."
"What do you mean?"
"When were you gonna tell me that I'm. Whatever I am."
"What're you talking about?"
"Carter was going to try and stop me from leaving with my squad. Said I was a security risk."
"Do you still want to leave?"
"I. That's not the point, John." Ronon turned that angry searching look on him. "I just want to know. Am I a prisoner? Slave? What?"
"You're on my team. You're one of us."
"As long as I stay in line."
"Same as anyone else here," John regretted the words the moment they came out. "But listen. This was all screwed up. Carter's still feeling her way-"
"She doesn't trust me."
"You didn't give her a chance to."
"You didn't have my back, either."
"And I'm sorry about that, but you weren't making it easy."
Ronon shook his head and kept running.
---
A little more than a month too late, John sat in Carter's office, and realized what he should have said, that day out on the pier with the sun shining down. That his concern had been for Ronon, that Carter's had been for the city. It wasn't entirely that clear-cut or honest, John knew, but it might have been what Ronon needed to hear.
It might have been enough to prevent all of this.
We don't leave our people behind, and I shouldn't have to explain to everyone who our people are twice in once hour.
John shook his head to clear it, and looked back at Carter across her desk. He leaned forward to pass her his datapad, and indicated the map glowing on the screen. "There's a space gate not thirteen hours away, even if we can't open the gate from the other end."
"I understand that, but that's not our only concern here, Sheppard, and you know it. For one, we still don't know what made him step through the gate in the first place."
"We were under attack," Sheppard strove to maintain an even tone, but he knew he was close to losing it. This is just protocol.
"You were being arrested for a murder that Ronon may have committed, and he left you there. But that's neither here nor there. We still have no evidence that he is in need of retrieval."
"There's none to say otherwise, either. We should at least give him the benefit of the doubt." Sheppard sighed, stemming the impetus to steamroll her on this. Emotional outbursts wouldn't help. "Look. He might have his own motivations, but he wouldn't endanger the team. He wouldn't leave us hanging like that. He wouldn't leave without saying goodbye, at least."
"But the fact remains that he did," Carter reasoned, though the apologetic look in her eye made it evident that she was just doing her job. Crossing the T's and dotting the I's. A formality.
"As far as we know. Look," John interjected. "The orders we both signed off on said we'd resume the search when we had new information. Doesn't this count?"
"It's information from Ladon Radim," Carter shrugged. "Do you trust him?"
"Enough for this," Sheppard affirmed. "Besides. It makes sense. Ronon hasn't contacted us because he can't contact us. It's the best lead we've got. If you're still concerned he is a security risk, we should already be out there. And, if we don't do this, if we don't follow through, with all the yelling I just had to do at formation this morning, our credibility is shot. That enough for the IOA?"
"Perfect," Carter relaxed, then, leaving Sheppard feeling a little ridiculous in the wake of his outburst.
Carter typed a few things into the computer and nodded to herself. "All right. Clean contact and retrieval, running it through the alpha site for quarantine. Your tactics will be not only informed by, but determined by Keller's risk assessment, and I want two additional security officers with your team. Is that clear?"
"Crystal."
"One last thing, John. And I know what your answer is going to be, but I need to know. Will you be able to handle…" she trailed off, leaving Sheppard to fill in the blanks. That it might amount to nothing. That this could be the incident that results in a massive epidemic here in the city. That we might be too late. That we might not even be able to retrieve his body.
"Doesn't matter. Whatever's there to be found, I need to be there. I'll give Rodney and Teyla an out, but I'm not farming this out to another team."
"Understood. Go."
---
As soon as Keller was sure that the medics had all the evacuation supplies properly stowed, she closed the hatch, and announced that they were ready to go. Taking attendance in his head- his team, two security and three medics. Eight in all, nine returning, Sheppard waited for Keller to sit down before disengaging from the bay's docking mechanism.
"Control this is jumper one. We're ready to go."
"Dialing now, sir," Chuck said. "Okay, we've got a lock. You're cleared for takeoff."
Easing the jumper down into the gateroom, Sheppard glanced over at Teyla, who mirrored his own apprehension. McKay, though. That was another story.
McKay was no less terrified than Sheppard had expected, but he'd been the first to suit up. That he was there at all, heading into what had to be his own personal hell, was amazing. Sheppard wanted to tell him so, but wound up asking, instead, "McKay, you sure about this?"
"Of course not. Just. Hurry it up already, let's go."
---
Almost as soon as they were through, McKay was nodding to himself. "Keep bearing north. Looks like it should be up ahead." A few moments later, and Teyla's breath caught audibly in her throat.
"John, look," she pointed out the window, and John instantly recognized the shapes of scattered people, tracking their position and hurrying towards the safety of town.
"We've got life signs," Sheppard laughed. So far, at least, that was a point in their favor, allowing at least the possibility that Ronon himself was alive.
"McKay? Sensor readings?"
"Radiation is well within normal limits. Air is fine."
"You're all on respirators anyway, and I don't want you touching anything until I get a read on the situation," Keller piped up from the back, sliding her pack over her shoulders before slipping her hands into the gloves.
"Right."
Sheppard was the last to leave the jumper, hurrying to catch up to Teyla and McKay before the locals drew any nearer. Several, he noted, were armed, but only two of them were holding their weapons in a ready position. Shotguns, from the look of it.
"Hello," He began, forcing himself into an easy smile that would be utterly missed behind the mask. "My name is John Sheppard, and we come in peace." Something about saying that never got old, regardless of the circumstances. McKay, for once, didn't start sputtering in annoyed laughter.
A man, who looked vaguely familiar, though Sheppard couldn't place it, stepped forward from the crowd. "Greetings. I am Councilor Aval, and I welcome you and yours to Sanacra." He paused, clearly puzzled. "If I may ask, why do you not breathe the air?"
Keller stepped up next to Sheppard. "We have heard that there is a disease here that has caused several fatalities," she explained.
"We mean no offense by these barriers," Teyla cut in, kindly, her voice muffled behind her mask as she tipped her head forward, bowing gently. "But we feel we must take precautions."
"That is understandable," the man agreed, a worried look crossing over his face. "And wise. The sickness has been dormant for some time. We believed it to have been eradicated some time ago, but recent events caused much concern. This being so, why have you risked this visitation?"
"We're looking for a friend of ours," Sheppard began, but whatever he was about to say next was lost when he looked at the faces of the people staring back at him. Recognition.
"Is Ronon Dex the friend of whom you speak?"
"Yes." Sheppard was sure the sigh of relief was amplified to an embarrassing volume by the respirator. "You've seen him? Is he here?"
"Yes. But. He is the one who has fallen ill." Aval stepped back, waving an arm through the crowd. "Please. I will take you to him myself."
"How is he?" Keller hurried to step in front of Sheppard, who swallowed down the instinct to restrain her from moving so quickly in an unknown situation. "Please. I am a doctor."
They were moving towards the town, now, the crowd following, chattering quietly but excited.
"He seems to be recovering, but we do not know why, I am sorry to say," Sheppard heard Aval admit. "And please forgive my intentions here, but if you can discover anything that points to the cause, I would very much appreciate your sharing the knowledge with us."
"Of course," Keller said. "But it may require us to study it for a time, back in our own facilities. But we'd be-" she cut herself off, looking askance at Sheppard.
"We'd be more than happy to help in any way we can," he confirmed, wishing he could take the ventilator off.
"Thank you," Aval nodded his head, directing the crowd around a corner. "Here we are." He stopped in front of a building that was larger than the rest, an inn, and opened a door, leading the way inside.
There were several people in the dining area, staring, caught unawares, and Aval pointed up the stairs, where a woman with graying hair and a blinding tunic appeared, attracted by the commotion.
"Itris, these are Ronon's friends," Aval said, indicating the group.
"Come with me," she said, and waited for them to mount the stairs.
Sheppard signaled the Marines to wait where they were, and was surprised that Keller allowed his team to pass in front of her, appreciating the gesture even as he recognized it as protocol.
Up the stairs he went, breathing loudly in his mask, not turning to look at Teyla or Rodney.
Because up a few more steps, the woman was holding open a door and ushering a girl out of the hallway, telling her that they needed to make room, and then there was only one more step before he'd be able to look inside that room and see Ronon. He'd had weeks to think about it, but now. He didn't have any more time to prepare himself for what he was about to find.
Someone bumped into him, and he realized he'd stopped short and was staring, because Ronon Dex was looking right back at him.
Chapter 6