Title: Nemesis
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Summary: 'It has been two days since your friends deserted you, Dr. McKay,' Atter tutted softly. 'No one is coming for you.'
Words: ~1,500
Category: gen
Rating: R
Notes: Originally written for the livejournal community sga_flashfic amnesty (darkness) challenge. But I missed the deadline. Phooey. Any and all feedback taken with gratitude. Concrit is esp. welcome. Huge, huge thanks to
Alyse for the beta and for literally saving this story (really -- I deleted it by accident). Naked chocolate-covered McKay for you, sweety :)))
***
Nemesis
by The Moonmoth
***
'Good morning, Dr. McKay,' General Atter said, and pressed the button on the small remote control in his hand. The man's whole body tensed but he didn't scream, Atter noted with interest. After five seconds, he released the button, cutting off the low-amp electrical current passing through McKay's body. McKay slumped down in his chair (as much as was possible, given the restraints) and took a few deep, shuddering breaths.
'What the hell was that for?' he spat.
'It's important to make a good first impression, don't you think, Dr. McKay? You only ever get one opportunity.'
'Oh yes, not even giving me the chance to tell you what you want to know before beginning the torture makes me feel so much more inclined to help you afterwards.'
Atter smiled. 'That is the general idea, yes.' In the few, weak rays of sun lighting the room from slits high in the walls, Atter saw McKay's eyes widen briefly, luminous against a face dark with bruising. Then he seemed to gather himself, straightening up a little and lifting his chin.
'I won't tell you anything.'
Atter smiled again, and began slowly to circle the room, McKay straining his neck to follow him as he moved into the shadows. 'That's what they all say, Dr. McKay. That's what they all say.'
***
Atter watched as Sergeant Hik landed another solid punch on the side of McKay's head, forcing him to his knees. It was nearing twilight outside and dark in the cell, McKay's body barely more than a grey shape, the only thing really visible the blood glistening on his face, the flash of his eyes.
Atter nodded to Hik, a minute movement of the head, and the sergeant backed off a couple of paces. He gestured to the chair in the centre of the room, 'Please take a seat, Dr. McKay.'
'Right, like I'm going to voluntarily allow myself to be restrained again.' Atter couldn't see his facial expression, but the voice was defiant, if a little hoarse. McKay had put up a decent fight, at the beginning.
'I must insist,' Atter said. When the man didn't move, Atter nodded again and Hik moved forward, hoisted McKay to his feet, forcing him over to the chair. Atter activated the restraints and then folded his hands placidly in front of him. 'Tell me about your ship, Dr. McKay. I hear it can deactivate the protective shield you have placed over your stargate.'
'It also turns pink and provides turkey sandwiches on command. Really not giving up secrets like that.'
Atter didn't have to nod this time -- Hik stepped forward and glowered silently at McKay. Closer than before, Atter could see McKay's mouth open as though to protest, panic rolling off him in tangible waves, his eyes flicking between Hik and Atter. And then he closed his mouth again, fixed his gaze somewhere on the far wall, tilting his chin up slightly.
Atter left him with Sergeant Hik, the restraints still on.
***
Atter picked up the knife from the table and examined it, making sure the blade caught the light. 'Tell me about your ship, Dr. McKay. It's a powerful thing. I was very impressed.'
McKay remained silent, eyes on the weapon in Atter's hand. Atter began to walk towards him and he recoiled, though not by much, held firmly in place by the chair. 'Tell me about your ship,' he repeated, and held the knife to the smallest finger on McKay's left hand, allowing the lightest of pressures.
'They'll come for me, my team,' McKay said quickly, and Atter was pleased to hear the catch in his voice as he stared wide-eyed at the knife. 'They have weapons more powerful than you can imagine.'
'It has been two days since your friends deserted you, Dr. McKay,' Atter tutted softly. 'We are well defended, deep underground and far from the Ring. No one is coming for you.'
'They're coming,' he said, but Atter noticed the slight shift in the tone of his voice, telling him that McKay was no longer so sure. He leaned down on the blade. This time, McKay screamed.
***
'Tell me about your ship, Dr. McKay. It disappeared into thin air. I wish to know how this is possible.'
McKay didn't move, simply stared up at the ceiling with his head lolling back, humming flatly to himself. Atter had seen this many times before; they had ways to get around it. He withdrew from his pocket a small leather case, inside which was a glass syringe and an ampoule filled with a clear liquid. Moving carefully in the dim light, he loaded the syringe and stabbed it into McKay's thigh. McKay's head snapped up and he frowned down at the needle still sticking out of his leg.
Atter wound a hand into McKay's hair and tilted his head up, to look at him. 'Please try to focus, Dr. McKay.' This close to him, Atter could see the glazed look in his eyes retreat, like ice under the sun, and in its place came sharp, blue fear.
'Tell me about your ship,' Atter whispered.
***
Atter raised his hand to shock him again, and then paused to listen. There seemed to be some sort of disturbance in the corridor, muffled voices, then the sound of rapid footfalls. Atter cocked his head, but when nothing further happened he turned back to McKay. The prisoner's eyes were fixed firmly on the door.
'I have already told you, Dr. McKay -- no one is coming for you.'
Slowly, McKay turned back to Atter and met his eyes. 'You're right,' he said, his voice weak and rasping. 'No one's coming for me.' Atter smiled, pleasantly surprised, and as a reward, he lowered his hand.
'I'm glad to hear you say that, Dr. McKay. Perhaps now that you have realised this, we can move on to discuss other matters.'
McKay just looked at Atter, his expression indecipherable through the swelling. 'He's not coming for me,' he said softly. 'He's coming for you.'
Calmly, Atter raised his hand again and pressed the button on the remote. He sighed, and said, 'It has been three very long, very arduous days, Dr. McKay. I'm getting tired of your refusal to co-operate.' He didn't release the button for some time, until McKay's body began to shake uncontrollably and a trickle of blood ran from his mouth.
Outside, he heard the sound of running again, muffled thumps on the floor, fading into the distance. McKay spat blood onto the floor and broke into a wild, mirthless grin. And then a sound like thunder echoed in to the cell from the corridor and he heard the voices of some of his men, shouting, sounds of pain. The clatter grew in volume, the boom resolving into a succession of what sounded like gunshots, but coming faster than any man could reload. It was incredibly close, now, just at the end of the corridor, and Atter strained to hear the shouts of his men becoming chaotic and panicked. Reluctantly, he moved to the door, readying himself to infuse some discipline.
He stopped at the door and turned back to McKay. 'Please excuse me, Dr. McKay,' he said, raising his voice over the racket. 'Be assured that we will finish this later.'
McKay spat blood again and laughed darkly, his face distorting around the swelling and black of the bruises. 'He's coming for you,' he repeated.
Outside, the men had fallen silent.
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