Supply and Demand: Stolen Part 8/10 (SPN/SGA AU Crossover)
Supply and Demand: Stolen Part 8/10 (SPN/SGA AU Crossover)
Author: Tari_Roo
Chapter 8
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The world on the other side of the wormhole was bathed in the dim gloom of twilight. Dean took a moment to take in the blooming stars overhead, the horizon off to the West red and pink from sunset. But the sight of unfamiliar stars, even now bright and distinct, no city light or pollution to dim them was disconcerting, knowing it wasn’t even the Milky Way.
Ronon was a dark silhouette a few feet away, staring out across flat landscape, Teyla beside him. There was an odd bump of a hill or rise, but otherwise the land was flat as far as the eye could see. But as Dean rotated to check the entire landscape, the scene behind the Gate was very different. Three massive statues which dwarfed the Gate loomed overhead. One looked like a deformed horse, mouth open and charging for a bite with huge canines. The middle one was a man poised to strike, a long heavy spear aimed straight for the platform before the Gate. The tip of the spear was only just above the rim of the Gate, dull and rusted.
The last statue was headless and tilting to one side, but it was poised to attack as well, long limbs out stretched claws reaching out for blood. “We found its head in a market place on a world half way across the galaxy. Locals built these things during a hibernation, I guess, hoping they’d scare the Wraith off.”
Lieutenant Kim was at Dean’s side, staring up at the statues. Dean, eyes still on the headless statue said, “Did it work?”
Shaking his head, Kim mumbled, “No. Place was empty when we first came here.”
Dean nodded, and heard Ronon bark, “Tracks lead off behind the statues. Into the forest.”
Sure enough, a tangled, dense forest rose behind the statues, dark and seemingly impenetrable. “If I remember correctly, there is an old Ancient lab in that forest,” Teyla said, hands tight on her P90. Ronon came to join them on the platform and nodded, “Wraith had bombed it to rubble.”
“Guess the Trust don’t care... or know something we don’t.” Kim was looking at the forest, but Dean felt his attention, his curiosity, maybe considering Dean’s loyalty or deceit. Dean just felt the immediate surrounds and said, “They knew which way to go.”
Ronon nodded, “Yeah, they ran straight into forest.”
The other Marines kept watch on the perimeter, while Dean, Kim, Teyla and Ronon waited on the platform. In the quiet, Dean wanted to make a lighthearted comment, but he couldn’t think of anything good to say, a little cautious with these strangers. Luckily Ronon glanced up and said, “Dawns in a few minutes. If Sheppard gets here now, we should still wait for it to get lighter.”
Dawn? Dean started at the definitely pinker, orange western horizon and frowned. Even though no one knew of his assumption and hadn’t said anything themselves, Dean felt embarrassed, then realised that they would feel that embarrassment, which only pissed him off and ...
“Ronon, dude, you sure?” Kim was staring at the horizon as well and Ronon shoved him, making him stumble a little. “Quit being a stupid Earthling!” But Kim was laughing and said, “Hey, Sergeant, you remember that world that had like five suns and absolutely no night? That was ... hot.”
Sergeant Jones on the perimeter was nodding, “Yeah, and people still lived there. Crazy people, but people.”
The Gate started to activate and the four of them hopped off the platform, Dean feeling less emotional and wishing he’d just get his barriers up to full strength. That was a few days away though, so he tried to pull on the old ‘hunter’ mask, shoving aside emotion to be dealt with later on.
The whoosh of the Stargate lit the now ‘predawn’ landscape and the moment the wormhole stabilised, Sheppard, Lorne and two squads of Marines spilled out. They were armed to the teeth, prepared for anything, a couple of the Marines hefting along RPGs. Sheppard looked and felt angry and hurt. He wasn’t really in any condition to be running around, but Dean figured Lorne, the XO, had already tried to persuade his boss to stay behind. The Major felt pricklish and worried but all of the emotion was buried deep. Whether it was Sheppard or Lorne, or the Marines, everyone had on their own masks of professional, ready for action, facades leaving aside emotion for later.
“Ronon?”
Ronon gave a brief outline of the situation, direction of the escapees and Sheppard signalled for everyone’s attention. His eyes narrowed when he spotted Dean but he said nothing as his men gathered. “Alright, we’ve come prepared for bear but I think the Trust have more than a few surprises and traps laid out for us. The fact that they came here means either it was on purpose and they have supplies or it was a lucky guess. Either way, I want everyone on their toes and cautious. Teams of four, standard search and cover pattern. Call in anything.”
There were nods and yes sirs all around and Lorne headed out with three Marines, the squads breaking up into fours. Sheppard pulled Dean aside, and hissed, “You’re here and frankly I don’t care right now. But don’t make me regret it.” Sheppard handed Dean a radio, radiating intense determination.
Dean nodded, not even bothering to project reassurance. Sheppard barked at Kim and Jones, “You take Winchester, cover the rear. Relay back to Markus and Bergstorm at the Gate. Got it?”
Ronon drawled, “Where’s Mckay?”
Sheppard shrugged, “Woolsey insisted he stay and ensure the Replicators were gone. I don’t know who was more offended, Radek or Rodney.”
Teyla smiled and said, “Radek,” even as Ronon said, “McKay.”
Kim and Jones weren’t entirely able to keep their spike of disappointment of being relegated to babysitting duty, and Dean kept his own emotions in check. Ready, Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla and the last Marine ran off. Lieutenant Kim smiled brightly, his true emotions far darker and said, “Ok, let’s go. Jones, take our six, Winchester behind me.”
Dean didn’t say anything, figuring there would be there opportunities aplenty to prove himself. The immediate future was blending with worries for the days to come. Part of him wanted to stay on Atlantis as long as possible, delay his return to Earth and if he could show his worth, preferably not just as a walking emotion barometer, but as a fighter, then maybe. The other part of him though wanted to go find Sam. It was a surprisingly small and quiet part.
The walk/trot into the forest, down the middle of the search grid, was an exercise in endurance. Dean’s ribs were aching something fierce, making his breathing harsher than usual. By contrast, Jones and Kim were pictures of fitness and ease, their eyes never stopping, scanning the trees and undergrowth. The forest wasn’t as dense as it appeared once they were in, but the lightning dawn was barely making a difference in the gloom, the trees black and grim.
By the time the first sounds of gunfire were heard, Dean’s face was bathed in sweat, and he knew Jones was looking at him with growing concern. The sky above though was less purple and more blue, but the spike of adrenalin from Kim and Jones only fuelled Dean’s. There was a burst of radio chatter in his ear, and Dean listened in intently.
Picking up the pace, but scanning the immediate area even more, Kim listened intently to the chatter. He said quietly, “First team spotted a ruined building, probably the lab and came under fire straight away.”
There was a spark of gunfire off to the right, bright blue flashes of stunner fire as well and Sheppard barked over the radio, “Go to stunners.”
Jones grumbled as he switched out to a Wraith stunner and Kim handed Dean one. The bulky, organic looking gun was something out of a low budget sci fi movie and Dean felt ridiculously happy to have one in hand. He really wanted to shoot something with it.
He got an opportunity all too soon.
From the cover of a dense clump of trees, two Trust operatives opened fire at them, and Jones ducked and shoved Dean to one side. But Dean compensated for the shove as he dived and still managed to peg one of them. And then, there was gunfire or rather stunner fire all around them. There were far more men than then fifteen or so people who had escaped from Atlantis.
“Teyla’s been hit!”
“She ok?”
“Stunner.”
“Area secure, sir.”
Jones eventually stopped worrying about Dean, while Kim steadily relayed both their position and situation. Dean was crouched behind a tree, his burning ribs half forgotten, the stunner warm in his hands when there was a break in the fire fight around them. He been trading shot with the trees across from them. Jones doing the same next to him. The lull in fire meant someone had got a lucky shot. Lt. Kim checked the immediate area and signalled it was clear to move. Standing made his chest renew its desire to go lie down somewhere and have a beer with a morphine chaser, but Jones was radiating such surprised ‘impressed’ at him, that Dean walked on with practiced ‘I’m cool’ competence.
The trees were looking less gloomy and more treelike, the dawn picking up pace. There was still gunfire ahead of them but more towards the ruins and Kim said quietly, “Seems we’ve picked off the scouts and look out posts. The Major says they’ve surrounded the building, but it’s big and they need back up.”
“Teyla, ok?” Dean asked, careful of where he put his feet.
Kim nodded, and Jones mumbled, “Any other causalities? Sounded like Greg got it.”
“One confirmed stun, Teyla. Two minor injuries, one of them Greg. But we don’t know how many people are in the ruins.”
The walk was tense, Jones covering their backs, walking backwards, half turned. They reached their first body, one of the men firing at them from the close knit trees. It was Dr Russo, and another mercenary lay a few feet away, both lax and unconscious. Jones kept watch, and Kim nodded for Dean to check Russo, while he headed for the mercenary.
Dr Russo was collapsed on his side, his zat inches from nerveless fingers. Scanning the area Dean checked with Jones who nodded an all clear. No hostiles in view. Dean kicked the zat away and knelt to check Russo’s pulse. With all the stunner fire and zat blasts it would be easy for someone to get hit twice. Or be faking it. Apparently twice meant dead.
Russo’s pulse was steady and stable, but Dean tipped him onto his back, checking for further weapons. As Russo flipped over there was a dart of movement, like a snake rising from cover and Dean lurched back in surprise. In the half light it looked like something long and grey was sliding out of Russo’s mouth and even as Dean raised his stunner to fire, finger already pressing down, the thing launched itself at him.
His ‘Shit!’ was all it needed, even as Kim and Jones shouted and ran over. The snake was damn fast, faster than Dean could close his mouth, and with his brain expecting a bite or a strike, it slipped into his open mouth, shoving its ways past teeth and tongue.
Instinct from years of drills kept his gun in hand but Dean still scrambled to grab the thing, close his mouth, all too late. Half expecting to feel it slide down his throat, the burst of pain knocked him flat, hands going limp as it started burrowing up and around his throat, eating into him. Belatedly Dean ‘felt’ an evil malevolent presence. A personality, a mind - an alien mind and it was trying to ‘connect’ with him. Only it was a hostile takeover. Dropping the physical battle, long lost, Dean focused on the mental one, for which he was well prepared.
Distantly he heard Jones shouting on the radio, his own squawking in his ear. But it was the snarling alien, the frigging alien in his head that was his focus. The attack wasn’t like a Kinetic, mostly because it was trying to push him aside, take over completely, replace him with itself. But after two years of fending off persistent and creative Kinetics, Dean’s walls had gone up automatically, diamond hard. The snake was in place physically, a dull ache in his spine, but mentally the battle was far from over. The only benefit of having Taylor and co in his head a few days ago was it gave him one more tool, one more technique. The snarl coming from the alien was a snarl of frustration and confusion as it bashed itself against his walls.
Dean could feel the thing curling around his spine, trying to leverage the pain of that sensation as a weapon. But for this as well, Dean was primed to resist, well experienced in pain. He shocked the thing back, a short sharp bite of his own, and physically and mentally it howled. He felt his body arch in response to both of their pain.
“Surrender! Resistance is futile!”
Dean laughed and shocked it again. It sounded like one of those old movie villains, popmpous and monologue-ing but it quoting Trek made the picture even more ridiculous. Even as it screamed again, Dean followed it up with a quick one, two - two more shocks, minor but sharp. The snake tried to use pain again, nerves burning in response, but the surge through his system was weak, barely anything compared to a Kinetic attack.
Not waiting for it recover, Dean used his very limited kinesis, the leftover abilities of Kinetics, and squeezed the foreign body inside him, wrapped around his spine and into his brain. It felt soft and fragile, squishy. It screamed, using his own voice.
“You will die, human!”
Dean answered with another squeeze and drawled, “You first, freak.” He hit it again, squeeze and shock and suddenly it wasn’t trying to take over, but was trying to escape. Tempted to kill it, Dean held on and it must have felt his intent because it really moved, wiggling out, letting control go, filling his throat, choking him. He felt the malice before the snake could act, the intent to maim, hurt, kill him as it left, so Dean took off the kid gloves, no longer worried about his own nerves and pushed.
It didn’t even scream, just collapsed, half free from its hold on his spine, and Dean pushed with his limited ability. Rolling over, he coughed, gagged and then threw the thing up and out, the weirdest hurling experience in his life. Blinking, Dean stared at the twitching coils and scales, its massive head and jaws making his stomach genuinely queasy. How on earth had it found space in his body? Leaning back off of his hands and knees, Dean spat out a mass of blood and crap and looked up right into the barrels of Kim and Jones’ stunners.
They were bug eyed and serious, millimetres away from firing but Kim was also staring at the writhing mass of alien snake. Dean flicked a quick look too and fully planned on stomping the life out of it the moment he didn’t have guns pointed in his face. Standing, and staggering a little, light headed, Dean spat some more.
“Wait!” Jones cried, stunner pointing at his chest, and Dean cocked an eyebrow. Kim though was smiling, “Did you just seriously smack down a Goua’ld , in your head?”
“A what?” Dean quipped, foot twitching towards the snake. Kim shrugged and pointed ‘that thing’ and said, “Well, it’s not like we can question it without a host.” And that was all Dean needed and he crushed its head, grinding and twisting his heel. It was immensely satisfying.
“Dude, you rock!” Kim laughed.
Dean smirked dryly, “Fan club much?”
The radio squawked and Sheppard’s voice barked over the gunfire in the background, “Sitrep!”
Kim tapped his earpiece and shouted, “Secure, sir.”
Sheppard cursed and there was a bark of returning fire before he yelled, “Just stun the damn thing and get over here. We’re down three men and need back up.”
Kim and Jones barked ‘yes, sirs’ and Dean looked down at the mess under his boot. Happily, he picked up his stunner and calmly stunned the dead alien. “Good to go?” he asked.
Jones laughed and Kim grinned, “Hell, yeah.” They ran off, and Dean didn’t think to mention his pounding headache and raw throat. He could feel sluggish bleeding down his throat and had to keep spitting out bloody salvia, his tongue coated in foul iron and alien slime. Nothing else felt wrong though, the headache familiar but unwelcome. Nice welcome wagon though, getting snaked first day out.
Kim slowed as they reached the Atlantean line, Lorne waving them in. They took cover near a squad, thick trees their only cover. The Ancient lab wasn’t the best cover in the world, but its walls were high enough, and the gaps narrow enough for the Trust mercenaries to lay down suppressing fire. Two efforts to flank them and get into the building from the rear had failed, two unconscious Marines laying in the killing ground on the approach to the ruin. Sheppard on the right, Lorne on the left, them in the middle and a mini siege was in effect.
“Winchester, you ok?” Sheppard sounded a little breathless over the radio, and Dean quietly tapped his own radio and said, “Fine. Just a headache.”
Sheppard snapped, “Headache my ass.“
Quiet fell over the area as the Trust stopped firing and Sheppard and Lorne talked tactics. It wasn’t going to be easy taking the ruins, short of lobbying in grenades or using the RPGs, but their opponents were from Earth and Sheppard wanted intel, not dead people.
In the fallen silence, Augusto’s whiny voice echoed, “Colonel Sheppard! I suggest you surrender. The odds are not in your favour. Allow us to leave and we will not kill you.”
The collected atmosphere of the Marines near him was one of poised action, keenness to attack, and cautious worry. But Dean figured he’d offer what insight he could anyway. He tapped the radio and hissed, for Sheppard, “Colonel. He’s lying. Feels real nervous, panicked.”
Sheppard grunted over the radio and hissed in return, “Anything else? They planning an attack?”
Feeling Kim and Jones’ eyes, and the Marines nearby, on him, Dean shook his head, “They’re worried too. Nothing planned, just fear and worry. But Augusto feels weird.”
Lorne queried this time, his voice stressed, deep, “Weird?”
Dean shrugged, “Like there’s two of him, one worried, one angry.” Dean had spent four weeks near the man, but generally not close enough to get a true read, especially considering the concerted attention of the Kinetics. But this felt new, felt... different. Two sets of emotions as it were. A suspicion dawned, the memory of something curling around his spine fresh.
Off radio, Dean hissed at Jones. “That snake thing... you seen one before?”
Jones nodded. “Goua’ld, from the Milk Way. Evil sobs, like to think they’re Gods. We handed them their asses a few years ago, but they’re still around. Apparently.”
Suspicions swirling, plans percolating, Dean listened as Sheppard discussion options with Lorne and waited for pause to say, “Colonel. I have an idea.”
Sheppard cursed and said, “What idea?”
Dean glanced at Kim and Jones, but said quietly, knowing everyone was listening in, “I think I can distract Augusto, maybe take him out. If you flank them at the same time...”
“Maybe... what are you going to do?” Lorne asked.
“Hurt him.”
Sheppard sighed, “Good. Ronon, Lorne, get ready. Go, Winchester.”
The spike of worry from Sheppard was powerful but Dean ignored it. He handed his stunner to Kim and closed his eyes. Pushing aside the concern from Jones, the careful hope from Kim, Dean focused on the dual presence of Augusto behind the ruined wall.
Dean was acting on pure instinct, the one his Father had drilled into him for a decade. Act fast, act smart, punch hard. Augusto felt weird, and Russo had a snake in his head so it wasn’t too much of a reach to make a logical leap. Reaching out, Dean felt for the malevolent evil and found it. Augusto’s mind was smooth and filled with plans and numbers. The snake inside him felt old and twisted and full of pride. Augusto was in charge, talking, planning, but the snake was directing him like puppet, pushing him towards aggression, arrogance, over confidence.
Dean flexed his kinesis, paltry, weak and limited but the snake was soft and squishy. Had he been a Kinetic and trying this, Augusto’s head would have exploded in a mess of blood and bone. But Kinetics didn’t have the finesse for this, and Dean didn’t need a hammer here, just a scalpel.
Augusto was full of bravado, as the dull thick mind of Nikolai pulsed with fear and anger next to him. The scientists in the ruin were rank with fear, the mercenaries nervous and twitchy with aggression. But the overriding emotion was anticipation. They were waiting for something. Stalling.
Taking a deep breath, Dean sliced into the snake, and the Goua’ld, and Augusto screamed, the sound echoing through the forest. The spike of fear from the collected Trust people gave Dean an idea. Stepping out of cover, ignoring Jones’ shout and Sheppard’s bark in his ear, Dean made sure he could be seen as he sliced again. Augusto’s scream echoing again through the air, startling birds into flight. Before anyone else could act, including the mercenaries, Dean shouted, “How’s that feel, Augusto? Like a knife in the head?”
Dean squeezed and the Goua’ld screeched, the dual cry of pain echoing again. “Stop!” Augusto’s voice was desperate and Dean replied, “If I can do that to him, imagine what I’m going to do to the rest of you!”
The surge of guilt and fear was mind numbingly nauseating and before any of the Trust operatives could act, Dean yelled, “Surrender, or die... slowly.”
Over the radio, Ronon laughed but in the painted silence of anticipation Dean felt Nikolai’s anger as Augusto writhed in pain. So Dean squeezed again, and Augusto screamed, “We surrender, we surrender!”
Lorne and Sheppard didn’t need the opportunity twice and quickly stormed the ruins, the stunned mercenaries slow to act and swiftly disarmed. Dean stood in place, feeling a surge of guilt himself, but also vindictive pleasure. Jones was staring at him with mixed awe and fear. Lt. Kim had run off to secure the building.
“Dude.” Dean shrugged at Jones, and walked off towards where the small Medic was hovering over the injured. Teyla lay in stunned repose and Dean kinda wished she was awake, needing her calm amongst the surging emotion.
The Medic was tending to a Private with a slight graze and he barely looked up long enough to grunt, “She’ll be fine.” Sheppard’s voice over the radio confirmed everyone was secure. “Winchester, get in here now.”
Nodding at the Medic, ignoring Jones on his tail, Dean trotted over to the building. As Dean stepped through the broken arch, the small room inside was lit by artificial lights, a genuine hide out. Well stocked, lots of earth equipment, and his entrance tripled the level of fear from the remaining Trust operatives. Augusto was huddled on the floor, clutching his head.
The room was a little too crowded, but half of the Trust people were looking at a tall, thin man. He hadn’t been on Catastrophe and there were more unfamiliar faces. Sheppard was coming to the same conclusion and Dean said calmly, “They were waiting for reinforcements, I presume.”
The tall thin man felt worried, anxious, and kept on shooting looks at Augusto who was whimpering. Sheppard looked tired, and probably felt as ready for a good nap as Dean did, but he snapped, “Whose is coming? How many Trust missions are there in Pegasus?”
The thin man was still, silent, but everyone’s radios squealed and Bergstorm at the Gate shouted in, “Gate’s activating, sir!”
“Shit.”
Through the whimpers, a deeper, alien voice growled from Augusto, “Fools. You will die, slowly, for this.”
Augusto stood, his eyes flashing white, a gold device on his hand and Dean rolled his eyes and pushed. The alien shrieked, bitten off and the man collapsed. Sheppard though was marshalling his men. “Bergstorm, Markus take cover. Lorne, are the prisoners secure?”
The room was emptier now but the situation hardly any better. Sheppard deployed his men in the same positions the Trust mercenaries had been in moments before, and Ronon stunned Augusto for good measure.
“Sir, the wormhole is established.”
Bergstorm sounded tense, his voice hushed. Sheppard leant against a wall, waiting. Dean resisted the urge to ‘calm’ everyone down, knowing the tension was needed. Sheppard hissed at him, “Any more Goua’ld?” Dean shook his head, “Just Augusto. And Russo.”
Sheppard sighed, and looked out the narrow, broken gap in the wall. “Shit.” Several long minutes of tense inaction passed. Ronon fidgeted at his section of the wall, Lorne muttering to himself off comm. Jones was sticking close to Dean, humming softly. Sheppard eventually hissed over the radio, “Bergstorm, anything?”
“Nothing, sir. No movement. Nothing on the LSD.”
“Think they’re waiting for a signal, or are cloaked?” Lorne muttered, pressed against the wall, eyes scanning the forest. True dawn was in full force, any cover burning off with the rising sun in the West. More minutes ticked by and then Bergstorm radioed in, “Gates closed, sir. Wormhole gone.”
A collective sigh of relief echoed but Sheppard hissed, “You sure nothing came through? Cloaked Jumper... ship, anything?”
“Positive, sir. Even when cloaked, the event horizon moves when something comes through... and nothing.”
“Check it out, be certain.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sheppard remained leaning against the wall, but said to Lorne, “Looks like we lucked out, for now.”
Lorne nodded, “But there is a least one more group of Trust operatives in Pegasus, maybe more.”
“Yeah.”
But they had prisoners to question, again. Sighing, Sheppard straightened, looking pale. “Once Bergstorm clears it, let’s dial Atlantis, get more support.”
“And make sure that the Replicators are gone,” Lorne agreed. And then was a flurry of activity as Marines moved into action, as if released from a spell. Lorne was barking orders, and he and Lt. Kim started checking out the equipment the Trust had brought. Ronon disappeared to help the Marines secure the area, the Trust prisoners all moved into a relatively secure room.
Dean and Sheppard were sort of alone, Augusto and the Goua’ld inside him still lax on the floor. The thin man in charge of this Trust operation was with his men, wrists secured, silent and belligerent. Sheppard pulled a chair over and sat down with a groan. Dean remained standing, trying not to fidget, suddenly nervous.
“You’re kinda scary, you know that?” Sheppard drawled, leaning back in the chair. His skin was pale underneath the bruises, a slight tremor in his hands. It was hard to believe that only yesterday he’d help rescue Dean, after getting his face beat to a pulp. 24 hours and everything was different, in the wind, up in the air.
Dean shrugged, trying not to project his nerves, and desperate need, and said slowly, “Yeah...”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re on our side... but the thing is... are you?”
The about face, the turn from the quiet promise from before, to protect, to this suspicion made Dean’s pulse race. He knew his position was precarious, that people feared Empaths, and this demonstration of his abilities had been ... way out there. The quiet hope that these people, these Atlanteans, would be different was curling up and dying inside him already.
Dean considered his response, not wanting to get defensive, not wanting to sound as angry and afraid as he was, desperate not to leak all of that, knowing he was failing. He knew how it looked, taking out aliens with his mind, threatening to off the entire group, the ringing fears of Galvaston in Sheppard’s thoughts. “I couldn’t really, you know.”
“What?” Sheppard said, a mass of calm and concern.
“Kill them.”
Sheppard looked at Augusto, his expression one of querulous, ‘oh really?’ Dean nodded, careful not to soothe Sheppard, careful to keep his emotions in check. “Yeah, the alien snake was a different thing though. That was psychic, sort of. That I could hurt.”
“So, you couldn’t reach into my head and kill me?” Sheppard reeked of scepticism, fear, worry.
Dean shook his head.
“Not even a little?” The bite and tang of needing to protect, as if Dean was a problem, a danger, fell off Sheppard like a stream.
Dean sighed, “Not even a little. Even Kinetics are hard without a connection. And that snake just needed a nudge, a squeeze. It was pretty fragile. I’m not a killer.”
Sheppard’s look was one of disbelief and he was shaking his head, “My first impression was that you needed help but were dangerous. And you seemed a decent guy.”
“But?” Dean sighed. Ronon was a looming presence behind him, listening in, having snuck back in at some point. Everywhere else there was bustle and purpose, the day now light and warm. Here though, interrogation, suspicion. Fear. Teyla’s calm absence a real downer.
“No buts... just... cautious optimism?”
Caught off guard, Dean stammered, “What?”
Sheppard stood slowly, a small smile on his face, “Well, I just threatened you, questioned your loyalty and gave you ample opportunity to manipulate me. And.... nothing.” The emotions rolling off Sheppard were different, clear, positive.
Confused, but figuring Sheppard had been testing him and not liking that on bit, Dean pursed his lips, angry. Sheppard though continued on regardless, “You took out the main player and ended the fight without firing a shot. And I’ve had enough weird things poking around my mind, trying to get me to do something so I figured I’d know if you were trying to manipulate me, and you didn’t try.”
Dean didn’t respond and the Colonel said, “You’re an enigma, Winchester. But you ran to help when you could have hid. And you do genuinely seem like a nice guy.”
Swallowing the rise of emotion, so twisted and caught up in the mix of fear and hope, so desperate to be seen for himself, to be treated like a man, Dean just nodded, unable to speak. Sheppard continued like he couldn’t feel that confusion, and smiled, “I’ve got snakeheads in my galaxy and moles in my City and I desperately need Carson’s good drugs, but shit if I’m not impressed and pleased as hell that you’re with us.”
Forcing the roll of his eyes, refusing to feel over emotional, Dean growled, “If this is turning into a chick flick moment, I’m out of here.” The about turn, back to calm reassurance and positive emotion was confusing, but Dean went with the flow.
Ronon laughed, and slapped Dean on the back, “Sheppard’s more afraid of emotion than you are.”
Sheppard just smiled, shrugging minutely and he said, “Dean, you are one screwed up guy with probably more issues than Playboy, but hell if I don’t want to keep you.”
Dean laughed, “You serious?” Hating how needy that sounded, how desperate, Dean couldn’t take it back.
Sheppard closed the distance between them, open at last, smirking a little, “Only if you want.” And he walked off, shouting for Lorne, wanting to know who had painkillers. Ronon hovered as much as an overgrown guy with dreads could. The swirling mass of need and want and fear and worry wasn’t helping, and Dean did what he had once done so well. He buried it, shoved it away, where Sam and love and disappointments were buried and turned to Ronon. “What next?”
“Boring stuff. Wanna go shoot stuff?’
“Hell, yeah!”
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Teaser Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue
Background blurb
AN: This chapter is dedicated to Lembas7, whose awesome fic Signs and Warnings and WIP Rearview inspired in part this chapter. Or at the very least made me want to read more SG/SPN fics with Goua'ld and I keep on hoping that one day she’ll finish her WIP. J
Author: Tari_Roo
Chapter 8
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The world on the other side of the wormhole was bathed in the dim gloom of twilight. Dean took a moment to take in the blooming stars overhead, the horizon off to the West red and pink from sunset. But the sight of unfamiliar stars, even now bright and distinct, no city light or pollution to dim them was disconcerting, knowing it wasn’t even the Milky Way.
Ronon was a dark silhouette a few feet away, staring out across flat landscape, Teyla beside him. There was an odd bump of a hill or rise, but otherwise the land was flat as far as the eye could see. But as Dean rotated to check the entire landscape, the scene behind the Gate was very different. Three massive statues which dwarfed the Gate loomed overhead. One looked like a deformed horse, mouth open and charging for a bite with huge canines. The middle one was a man poised to strike, a long heavy spear aimed straight for the platform before the Gate. The tip of the spear was only just above the rim of the Gate, dull and rusted.
The last statue was headless and tilting to one side, but it was poised to attack as well, long limbs out stretched claws reaching out for blood. “We found its head in a market place on a world half way across the galaxy. Locals built these things during a hibernation, I guess, hoping they’d scare the Wraith off.”
Lieutenant Kim was at Dean’s side, staring up at the statues. Dean, eyes still on the headless statue said, “Did it work?”
Shaking his head, Kim mumbled, “No. Place was empty when we first came here.”
Dean nodded, and heard Ronon bark, “Tracks lead off behind the statues. Into the forest.”
Sure enough, a tangled, dense forest rose behind the statues, dark and seemingly impenetrable. “If I remember correctly, there is an old Ancient lab in that forest,” Teyla said, hands tight on her P90. Ronon came to join them on the platform and nodded, “Wraith had bombed it to rubble.”
“Guess the Trust don’t care... or know something we don’t.” Kim was looking at the forest, but Dean felt his attention, his curiosity, maybe considering Dean’s loyalty or deceit. Dean just felt the immediate surrounds and said, “They knew which way to go.”
Ronon nodded, “Yeah, they ran straight into forest.”
The other Marines kept watch on the perimeter, while Dean, Kim, Teyla and Ronon waited on the platform. In the quiet, Dean wanted to make a lighthearted comment, but he couldn’t think of anything good to say, a little cautious with these strangers. Luckily Ronon glanced up and said, “Dawns in a few minutes. If Sheppard gets here now, we should still wait for it to get lighter.”
Dawn? Dean started at the definitely pinker, orange western horizon and frowned. Even though no one knew of his assumption and hadn’t said anything themselves, Dean felt embarrassed, then realised that they would feel that embarrassment, which only pissed him off and ...
“Ronon, dude, you sure?” Kim was staring at the horizon as well and Ronon shoved him, making him stumble a little. “Quit being a stupid Earthling!” But Kim was laughing and said, “Hey, Sergeant, you remember that world that had like five suns and absolutely no night? That was ... hot.”
Sergeant Jones on the perimeter was nodding, “Yeah, and people still lived there. Crazy people, but people.”
The Gate started to activate and the four of them hopped off the platform, Dean feeling less emotional and wishing he’d just get his barriers up to full strength. That was a few days away though, so he tried to pull on the old ‘hunter’ mask, shoving aside emotion to be dealt with later on.
The whoosh of the Stargate lit the now ‘predawn’ landscape and the moment the wormhole stabilised, Sheppard, Lorne and two squads of Marines spilled out. They were armed to the teeth, prepared for anything, a couple of the Marines hefting along RPGs. Sheppard looked and felt angry and hurt. He wasn’t really in any condition to be running around, but Dean figured Lorne, the XO, had already tried to persuade his boss to stay behind. The Major felt pricklish and worried but all of the emotion was buried deep. Whether it was Sheppard or Lorne, or the Marines, everyone had on their own masks of professional, ready for action, facades leaving aside emotion for later.
“Ronon?”
Ronon gave a brief outline of the situation, direction of the escapees and Sheppard signalled for everyone’s attention. His eyes narrowed when he spotted Dean but he said nothing as his men gathered. “Alright, we’ve come prepared for bear but I think the Trust have more than a few surprises and traps laid out for us. The fact that they came here means either it was on purpose and they have supplies or it was a lucky guess. Either way, I want everyone on their toes and cautious. Teams of four, standard search and cover pattern. Call in anything.”
There were nods and yes sirs all around and Lorne headed out with three Marines, the squads breaking up into fours. Sheppard pulled Dean aside, and hissed, “You’re here and frankly I don’t care right now. But don’t make me regret it.” Sheppard handed Dean a radio, radiating intense determination.
Dean nodded, not even bothering to project reassurance. Sheppard barked at Kim and Jones, “You take Winchester, cover the rear. Relay back to Markus and Bergstorm at the Gate. Got it?”
Ronon drawled, “Where’s Mckay?”
Sheppard shrugged, “Woolsey insisted he stay and ensure the Replicators were gone. I don’t know who was more offended, Radek or Rodney.”
Teyla smiled and said, “Radek,” even as Ronon said, “McKay.”
Kim and Jones weren’t entirely able to keep their spike of disappointment of being relegated to babysitting duty, and Dean kept his own emotions in check. Ready, Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla and the last Marine ran off. Lieutenant Kim smiled brightly, his true emotions far darker and said, “Ok, let’s go. Jones, take our six, Winchester behind me.”
Dean didn’t say anything, figuring there would be there opportunities aplenty to prove himself. The immediate future was blending with worries for the days to come. Part of him wanted to stay on Atlantis as long as possible, delay his return to Earth and if he could show his worth, preferably not just as a walking emotion barometer, but as a fighter, then maybe. The other part of him though wanted to go find Sam. It was a surprisingly small and quiet part.
The walk/trot into the forest, down the middle of the search grid, was an exercise in endurance. Dean’s ribs were aching something fierce, making his breathing harsher than usual. By contrast, Jones and Kim were pictures of fitness and ease, their eyes never stopping, scanning the trees and undergrowth. The forest wasn’t as dense as it appeared once they were in, but the lightning dawn was barely making a difference in the gloom, the trees black and grim.
By the time the first sounds of gunfire were heard, Dean’s face was bathed in sweat, and he knew Jones was looking at him with growing concern. The sky above though was less purple and more blue, but the spike of adrenalin from Kim and Jones only fuelled Dean’s. There was a burst of radio chatter in his ear, and Dean listened in intently.
Picking up the pace, but scanning the immediate area even more, Kim listened intently to the chatter. He said quietly, “First team spotted a ruined building, probably the lab and came under fire straight away.”
There was a spark of gunfire off to the right, bright blue flashes of stunner fire as well and Sheppard barked over the radio, “Go to stunners.”
Jones grumbled as he switched out to a Wraith stunner and Kim handed Dean one. The bulky, organic looking gun was something out of a low budget sci fi movie and Dean felt ridiculously happy to have one in hand. He really wanted to shoot something with it.
He got an opportunity all too soon.
From the cover of a dense clump of trees, two Trust operatives opened fire at them, and Jones ducked and shoved Dean to one side. But Dean compensated for the shove as he dived and still managed to peg one of them. And then, there was gunfire or rather stunner fire all around them. There were far more men than then fifteen or so people who had escaped from Atlantis.
“Teyla’s been hit!”
“She ok?”
“Stunner.”
“Area secure, sir.”
Jones eventually stopped worrying about Dean, while Kim steadily relayed both their position and situation. Dean was crouched behind a tree, his burning ribs half forgotten, the stunner warm in his hands when there was a break in the fire fight around them. He been trading shot with the trees across from them. Jones doing the same next to him. The lull in fire meant someone had got a lucky shot. Lt. Kim checked the immediate area and signalled it was clear to move. Standing made his chest renew its desire to go lie down somewhere and have a beer with a morphine chaser, but Jones was radiating such surprised ‘impressed’ at him, that Dean walked on with practiced ‘I’m cool’ competence.
The trees were looking less gloomy and more treelike, the dawn picking up pace. There was still gunfire ahead of them but more towards the ruins and Kim said quietly, “Seems we’ve picked off the scouts and look out posts. The Major says they’ve surrounded the building, but it’s big and they need back up.”
“Teyla, ok?” Dean asked, careful of where he put his feet.
Kim nodded, and Jones mumbled, “Any other causalities? Sounded like Greg got it.”
“One confirmed stun, Teyla. Two minor injuries, one of them Greg. But we don’t know how many people are in the ruins.”
The walk was tense, Jones covering their backs, walking backwards, half turned. They reached their first body, one of the men firing at them from the close knit trees. It was Dr Russo, and another mercenary lay a few feet away, both lax and unconscious. Jones kept watch, and Kim nodded for Dean to check Russo, while he headed for the mercenary.
Dr Russo was collapsed on his side, his zat inches from nerveless fingers. Scanning the area Dean checked with Jones who nodded an all clear. No hostiles in view. Dean kicked the zat away and knelt to check Russo’s pulse. With all the stunner fire and zat blasts it would be easy for someone to get hit twice. Or be faking it. Apparently twice meant dead.
Russo’s pulse was steady and stable, but Dean tipped him onto his back, checking for further weapons. As Russo flipped over there was a dart of movement, like a snake rising from cover and Dean lurched back in surprise. In the half light it looked like something long and grey was sliding out of Russo’s mouth and even as Dean raised his stunner to fire, finger already pressing down, the thing launched itself at him.
His ‘Shit!’ was all it needed, even as Kim and Jones shouted and ran over. The snake was damn fast, faster than Dean could close his mouth, and with his brain expecting a bite or a strike, it slipped into his open mouth, shoving its ways past teeth and tongue.
Instinct from years of drills kept his gun in hand but Dean still scrambled to grab the thing, close his mouth, all too late. Half expecting to feel it slide down his throat, the burst of pain knocked him flat, hands going limp as it started burrowing up and around his throat, eating into him. Belatedly Dean ‘felt’ an evil malevolent presence. A personality, a mind - an alien mind and it was trying to ‘connect’ with him. Only it was a hostile takeover. Dropping the physical battle, long lost, Dean focused on the mental one, for which he was well prepared.
Distantly he heard Jones shouting on the radio, his own squawking in his ear. But it was the snarling alien, the frigging alien in his head that was his focus. The attack wasn’t like a Kinetic, mostly because it was trying to push him aside, take over completely, replace him with itself. But after two years of fending off persistent and creative Kinetics, Dean’s walls had gone up automatically, diamond hard. The snake was in place physically, a dull ache in his spine, but mentally the battle was far from over. The only benefit of having Taylor and co in his head a few days ago was it gave him one more tool, one more technique. The snarl coming from the alien was a snarl of frustration and confusion as it bashed itself against his walls.
Dean could feel the thing curling around his spine, trying to leverage the pain of that sensation as a weapon. But for this as well, Dean was primed to resist, well experienced in pain. He shocked the thing back, a short sharp bite of his own, and physically and mentally it howled. He felt his body arch in response to both of their pain.
“Surrender! Resistance is futile!”
Dean laughed and shocked it again. It sounded like one of those old movie villains, popmpous and monologue-ing but it quoting Trek made the picture even more ridiculous. Even as it screamed again, Dean followed it up with a quick one, two - two more shocks, minor but sharp. The snake tried to use pain again, nerves burning in response, but the surge through his system was weak, barely anything compared to a Kinetic attack.
Not waiting for it recover, Dean used his very limited kinesis, the leftover abilities of Kinetics, and squeezed the foreign body inside him, wrapped around his spine and into his brain. It felt soft and fragile, squishy. It screamed, using his own voice.
“You will die, human!”
Dean answered with another squeeze and drawled, “You first, freak.” He hit it again, squeeze and shock and suddenly it wasn’t trying to take over, but was trying to escape. Tempted to kill it, Dean held on and it must have felt his intent because it really moved, wiggling out, letting control go, filling his throat, choking him. He felt the malice before the snake could act, the intent to maim, hurt, kill him as it left, so Dean took off the kid gloves, no longer worried about his own nerves and pushed.
It didn’t even scream, just collapsed, half free from its hold on his spine, and Dean pushed with his limited ability. Rolling over, he coughed, gagged and then threw the thing up and out, the weirdest hurling experience in his life. Blinking, Dean stared at the twitching coils and scales, its massive head and jaws making his stomach genuinely queasy. How on earth had it found space in his body? Leaning back off of his hands and knees, Dean spat out a mass of blood and crap and looked up right into the barrels of Kim and Jones’ stunners.
They were bug eyed and serious, millimetres away from firing but Kim was also staring at the writhing mass of alien snake. Dean flicked a quick look too and fully planned on stomping the life out of it the moment he didn’t have guns pointed in his face. Standing, and staggering a little, light headed, Dean spat some more.
“Wait!” Jones cried, stunner pointing at his chest, and Dean cocked an eyebrow. Kim though was smiling, “Did you just seriously smack down a Goua’ld , in your head?”
“A what?” Dean quipped, foot twitching towards the snake. Kim shrugged and pointed ‘that thing’ and said, “Well, it’s not like we can question it without a host.” And that was all Dean needed and he crushed its head, grinding and twisting his heel. It was immensely satisfying.
“Dude, you rock!” Kim laughed.
Dean smirked dryly, “Fan club much?”
The radio squawked and Sheppard’s voice barked over the gunfire in the background, “Sitrep!”
Kim tapped his earpiece and shouted, “Secure, sir.”
Sheppard cursed and there was a bark of returning fire before he yelled, “Just stun the damn thing and get over here. We’re down three men and need back up.”
Kim and Jones barked ‘yes, sirs’ and Dean looked down at the mess under his boot. Happily, he picked up his stunner and calmly stunned the dead alien. “Good to go?” he asked.
Jones laughed and Kim grinned, “Hell, yeah.” They ran off, and Dean didn’t think to mention his pounding headache and raw throat. He could feel sluggish bleeding down his throat and had to keep spitting out bloody salvia, his tongue coated in foul iron and alien slime. Nothing else felt wrong though, the headache familiar but unwelcome. Nice welcome wagon though, getting snaked first day out.
Kim slowed as they reached the Atlantean line, Lorne waving them in. They took cover near a squad, thick trees their only cover. The Ancient lab wasn’t the best cover in the world, but its walls were high enough, and the gaps narrow enough for the Trust mercenaries to lay down suppressing fire. Two efforts to flank them and get into the building from the rear had failed, two unconscious Marines laying in the killing ground on the approach to the ruin. Sheppard on the right, Lorne on the left, them in the middle and a mini siege was in effect.
“Winchester, you ok?” Sheppard sounded a little breathless over the radio, and Dean quietly tapped his own radio and said, “Fine. Just a headache.”
Sheppard snapped, “Headache my ass.“
Quiet fell over the area as the Trust stopped firing and Sheppard and Lorne talked tactics. It wasn’t going to be easy taking the ruins, short of lobbying in grenades or using the RPGs, but their opponents were from Earth and Sheppard wanted intel, not dead people.
In the fallen silence, Augusto’s whiny voice echoed, “Colonel Sheppard! I suggest you surrender. The odds are not in your favour. Allow us to leave and we will not kill you.”
The collected atmosphere of the Marines near him was one of poised action, keenness to attack, and cautious worry. But Dean figured he’d offer what insight he could anyway. He tapped the radio and hissed, for Sheppard, “Colonel. He’s lying. Feels real nervous, panicked.”
Sheppard grunted over the radio and hissed in return, “Anything else? They planning an attack?”
Feeling Kim and Jones’ eyes, and the Marines nearby, on him, Dean shook his head, “They’re worried too. Nothing planned, just fear and worry. But Augusto feels weird.”
Lorne queried this time, his voice stressed, deep, “Weird?”
Dean shrugged, “Like there’s two of him, one worried, one angry.” Dean had spent four weeks near the man, but generally not close enough to get a true read, especially considering the concerted attention of the Kinetics. But this felt new, felt... different. Two sets of emotions as it were. A suspicion dawned, the memory of something curling around his spine fresh.
Off radio, Dean hissed at Jones. “That snake thing... you seen one before?”
Jones nodded. “Goua’ld, from the Milk Way. Evil sobs, like to think they’re Gods. We handed them their asses a few years ago, but they’re still around. Apparently.”
Suspicions swirling, plans percolating, Dean listened as Sheppard discussion options with Lorne and waited for pause to say, “Colonel. I have an idea.”
Sheppard cursed and said, “What idea?”
Dean glanced at Kim and Jones, but said quietly, knowing everyone was listening in, “I think I can distract Augusto, maybe take him out. If you flank them at the same time...”
“Maybe... what are you going to do?” Lorne asked.
“Hurt him.”
Sheppard sighed, “Good. Ronon, Lorne, get ready. Go, Winchester.”
The spike of worry from Sheppard was powerful but Dean ignored it. He handed his stunner to Kim and closed his eyes. Pushing aside the concern from Jones, the careful hope from Kim, Dean focused on the dual presence of Augusto behind the ruined wall.
Dean was acting on pure instinct, the one his Father had drilled into him for a decade. Act fast, act smart, punch hard. Augusto felt weird, and Russo had a snake in his head so it wasn’t too much of a reach to make a logical leap. Reaching out, Dean felt for the malevolent evil and found it. Augusto’s mind was smooth and filled with plans and numbers. The snake inside him felt old and twisted and full of pride. Augusto was in charge, talking, planning, but the snake was directing him like puppet, pushing him towards aggression, arrogance, over confidence.
Dean flexed his kinesis, paltry, weak and limited but the snake was soft and squishy. Had he been a Kinetic and trying this, Augusto’s head would have exploded in a mess of blood and bone. But Kinetics didn’t have the finesse for this, and Dean didn’t need a hammer here, just a scalpel.
Augusto was full of bravado, as the dull thick mind of Nikolai pulsed with fear and anger next to him. The scientists in the ruin were rank with fear, the mercenaries nervous and twitchy with aggression. But the overriding emotion was anticipation. They were waiting for something. Stalling.
Taking a deep breath, Dean sliced into the snake, and the Goua’ld, and Augusto screamed, the sound echoing through the forest. The spike of fear from the collected Trust people gave Dean an idea. Stepping out of cover, ignoring Jones’ shout and Sheppard’s bark in his ear, Dean made sure he could be seen as he sliced again. Augusto’s scream echoing again through the air, startling birds into flight. Before anyone else could act, including the mercenaries, Dean shouted, “How’s that feel, Augusto? Like a knife in the head?”
Dean squeezed and the Goua’ld screeched, the dual cry of pain echoing again. “Stop!” Augusto’s voice was desperate and Dean replied, “If I can do that to him, imagine what I’m going to do to the rest of you!”
The surge of guilt and fear was mind numbingly nauseating and before any of the Trust operatives could act, Dean yelled, “Surrender, or die... slowly.”
Over the radio, Ronon laughed but in the painted silence of anticipation Dean felt Nikolai’s anger as Augusto writhed in pain. So Dean squeezed again, and Augusto screamed, “We surrender, we surrender!”
Lorne and Sheppard didn’t need the opportunity twice and quickly stormed the ruins, the stunned mercenaries slow to act and swiftly disarmed. Dean stood in place, feeling a surge of guilt himself, but also vindictive pleasure. Jones was staring at him with mixed awe and fear. Lt. Kim had run off to secure the building.
“Dude.” Dean shrugged at Jones, and walked off towards where the small Medic was hovering over the injured. Teyla lay in stunned repose and Dean kinda wished she was awake, needing her calm amongst the surging emotion.
The Medic was tending to a Private with a slight graze and he barely looked up long enough to grunt, “She’ll be fine.” Sheppard’s voice over the radio confirmed everyone was secure. “Winchester, get in here now.”
Nodding at the Medic, ignoring Jones on his tail, Dean trotted over to the building. As Dean stepped through the broken arch, the small room inside was lit by artificial lights, a genuine hide out. Well stocked, lots of earth equipment, and his entrance tripled the level of fear from the remaining Trust operatives. Augusto was huddled on the floor, clutching his head.
The room was a little too crowded, but half of the Trust people were looking at a tall, thin man. He hadn’t been on Catastrophe and there were more unfamiliar faces. Sheppard was coming to the same conclusion and Dean said calmly, “They were waiting for reinforcements, I presume.”
The tall thin man felt worried, anxious, and kept on shooting looks at Augusto who was whimpering. Sheppard looked tired, and probably felt as ready for a good nap as Dean did, but he snapped, “Whose is coming? How many Trust missions are there in Pegasus?”
The thin man was still, silent, but everyone’s radios squealed and Bergstorm at the Gate shouted in, “Gate’s activating, sir!”
“Shit.”
Through the whimpers, a deeper, alien voice growled from Augusto, “Fools. You will die, slowly, for this.”
Augusto stood, his eyes flashing white, a gold device on his hand and Dean rolled his eyes and pushed. The alien shrieked, bitten off and the man collapsed. Sheppard though was marshalling his men. “Bergstorm, Markus take cover. Lorne, are the prisoners secure?”
The room was emptier now but the situation hardly any better. Sheppard deployed his men in the same positions the Trust mercenaries had been in moments before, and Ronon stunned Augusto for good measure.
“Sir, the wormhole is established.”
Bergstorm sounded tense, his voice hushed. Sheppard leant against a wall, waiting. Dean resisted the urge to ‘calm’ everyone down, knowing the tension was needed. Sheppard hissed at him, “Any more Goua’ld?” Dean shook his head, “Just Augusto. And Russo.”
Sheppard sighed, and looked out the narrow, broken gap in the wall. “Shit.” Several long minutes of tense inaction passed. Ronon fidgeted at his section of the wall, Lorne muttering to himself off comm. Jones was sticking close to Dean, humming softly. Sheppard eventually hissed over the radio, “Bergstorm, anything?”
“Nothing, sir. No movement. Nothing on the LSD.”
“Think they’re waiting for a signal, or are cloaked?” Lorne muttered, pressed against the wall, eyes scanning the forest. True dawn was in full force, any cover burning off with the rising sun in the West. More minutes ticked by and then Bergstorm radioed in, “Gates closed, sir. Wormhole gone.”
A collective sigh of relief echoed but Sheppard hissed, “You sure nothing came through? Cloaked Jumper... ship, anything?”
“Positive, sir. Even when cloaked, the event horizon moves when something comes through... and nothing.”
“Check it out, be certain.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sheppard remained leaning against the wall, but said to Lorne, “Looks like we lucked out, for now.”
Lorne nodded, “But there is a least one more group of Trust operatives in Pegasus, maybe more.”
“Yeah.”
But they had prisoners to question, again. Sighing, Sheppard straightened, looking pale. “Once Bergstorm clears it, let’s dial Atlantis, get more support.”
“And make sure that the Replicators are gone,” Lorne agreed. And then was a flurry of activity as Marines moved into action, as if released from a spell. Lorne was barking orders, and he and Lt. Kim started checking out the equipment the Trust had brought. Ronon disappeared to help the Marines secure the area, the Trust prisoners all moved into a relatively secure room.
Dean and Sheppard were sort of alone, Augusto and the Goua’ld inside him still lax on the floor. The thin man in charge of this Trust operation was with his men, wrists secured, silent and belligerent. Sheppard pulled a chair over and sat down with a groan. Dean remained standing, trying not to fidget, suddenly nervous.
“You’re kinda scary, you know that?” Sheppard drawled, leaning back in the chair. His skin was pale underneath the bruises, a slight tremor in his hands. It was hard to believe that only yesterday he’d help rescue Dean, after getting his face beat to a pulp. 24 hours and everything was different, in the wind, up in the air.
Dean shrugged, trying not to project his nerves, and desperate need, and said slowly, “Yeah...”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re on our side... but the thing is... are you?”
The about face, the turn from the quiet promise from before, to protect, to this suspicion made Dean’s pulse race. He knew his position was precarious, that people feared Empaths, and this demonstration of his abilities had been ... way out there. The quiet hope that these people, these Atlanteans, would be different was curling up and dying inside him already.
Dean considered his response, not wanting to get defensive, not wanting to sound as angry and afraid as he was, desperate not to leak all of that, knowing he was failing. He knew how it looked, taking out aliens with his mind, threatening to off the entire group, the ringing fears of Galvaston in Sheppard’s thoughts. “I couldn’t really, you know.”
“What?” Sheppard said, a mass of calm and concern.
“Kill them.”
Sheppard looked at Augusto, his expression one of querulous, ‘oh really?’ Dean nodded, careful not to soothe Sheppard, careful to keep his emotions in check. “Yeah, the alien snake was a different thing though. That was psychic, sort of. That I could hurt.”
“So, you couldn’t reach into my head and kill me?” Sheppard reeked of scepticism, fear, worry.
Dean shook his head.
“Not even a little?” The bite and tang of needing to protect, as if Dean was a problem, a danger, fell off Sheppard like a stream.
Dean sighed, “Not even a little. Even Kinetics are hard without a connection. And that snake just needed a nudge, a squeeze. It was pretty fragile. I’m not a killer.”
Sheppard’s look was one of disbelief and he was shaking his head, “My first impression was that you needed help but were dangerous. And you seemed a decent guy.”
“But?” Dean sighed. Ronon was a looming presence behind him, listening in, having snuck back in at some point. Everywhere else there was bustle and purpose, the day now light and warm. Here though, interrogation, suspicion. Fear. Teyla’s calm absence a real downer.
“No buts... just... cautious optimism?”
Caught off guard, Dean stammered, “What?”
Sheppard stood slowly, a small smile on his face, “Well, I just threatened you, questioned your loyalty and gave you ample opportunity to manipulate me. And.... nothing.” The emotions rolling off Sheppard were different, clear, positive.
Confused, but figuring Sheppard had been testing him and not liking that on bit, Dean pursed his lips, angry. Sheppard though continued on regardless, “You took out the main player and ended the fight without firing a shot. And I’ve had enough weird things poking around my mind, trying to get me to do something so I figured I’d know if you were trying to manipulate me, and you didn’t try.”
Dean didn’t respond and the Colonel said, “You’re an enigma, Winchester. But you ran to help when you could have hid. And you do genuinely seem like a nice guy.”
Swallowing the rise of emotion, so twisted and caught up in the mix of fear and hope, so desperate to be seen for himself, to be treated like a man, Dean just nodded, unable to speak. Sheppard continued like he couldn’t feel that confusion, and smiled, “I’ve got snakeheads in my galaxy and moles in my City and I desperately need Carson’s good drugs, but shit if I’m not impressed and pleased as hell that you’re with us.”
Forcing the roll of his eyes, refusing to feel over emotional, Dean growled, “If this is turning into a chick flick moment, I’m out of here.” The about turn, back to calm reassurance and positive emotion was confusing, but Dean went with the flow.
Ronon laughed, and slapped Dean on the back, “Sheppard’s more afraid of emotion than you are.”
Sheppard just smiled, shrugging minutely and he said, “Dean, you are one screwed up guy with probably more issues than Playboy, but hell if I don’t want to keep you.”
Dean laughed, “You serious?” Hating how needy that sounded, how desperate, Dean couldn’t take it back.
Sheppard closed the distance between them, open at last, smirking a little, “Only if you want.” And he walked off, shouting for Lorne, wanting to know who had painkillers. Ronon hovered as much as an overgrown guy with dreads could. The swirling mass of need and want and fear and worry wasn’t helping, and Dean did what he had once done so well. He buried it, shoved it away, where Sam and love and disappointments were buried and turned to Ronon. “What next?”
“Boring stuff. Wanna go shoot stuff?’
“Hell, yeah!”
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Teaser Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue
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AN: This chapter is dedicated to Lembas7, whose awesome fic Signs and Warnings and WIP Rearview inspired in part this chapter. Or at the very least made me want to read more SG/SPN fics with Goua'ld and I keep on hoping that one day she’ll finish her WIP. J