Fic: The Siege by miera (3/5)
Meta info in Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Janet finally came fully awake to the sound of heavy rain and the tiny crackling noises of a fire. She opened her eyes to see a few sticks of flame burning before her. Overhead was dull stone - an outcropping of rock that was sheltering them from the downpour she could see beyond their horses. She dimly remembered riding from the camp and then Ronon waking her enough to get her off his horse. She had worried down some crackers he gave her and then fell asleep again as soon as he urged her to lie down.
Ronon's body was a solid wall of heat behind her. Although she knew it rationally, it was a slight shock to realize just how big he was. Her head was below his chin and her feet barely reached down to his knees. He had slung an arm around her waist in his sleep, the heavy weight of it keeping her close.
It should have felt uncomfortable. Though it had been years since Ronon and John had first come to Atlantis and she had found herself caring for his injuries for the first (but not last) time, she didn't know him all that well. And having him holding her like this, trapping her in effect, should have been too intimate. But it didn't feel uncomfortable. She felt safe, and the feeling wasn't nearly as smothering as she would have expected it to be.
She turned carefully onto her back and Ronon stirred, blinking at her slowly. His expression was unusually open and direct. He spent so much time scowling at the world, and his life was so full of violence, it was easy to forget that he was fairly young, and that he had the capacity for great kindness.
She'd had proof enough of that in the way he'd been taking care of her since they left Atlantis. Though he'd been a friend to her in the past, and she knew he was loyal to a fault, she'd never seen him behaving this way with anyone. Through the fugue of the last two days of misery, Janet wouldn't soon forget the way he'd been supporting her through all of it. Thinking back on her initial opposition to him coming with her, she felt like a fool.
He looked at her expectantly. She nodded a little. Then, on impulse, she stretched up and brushed a kiss against his mouth.
She intended it only to be a thank you and an apology for her own stubbornness. She hadn't been counting on the flicker of heat - of longing - that went across his face. He wiped it away but not soon enough.
Something within her warmed in response. Something that hadn't been fully awake for a long, long time.
Janet knew there were many reasons not to do what she was now thinking of doing, the least of which being that she was exhausted and emotionally drained by the last few days, and that they were out here in the middle of nowhere and needed to be mindful of their surroundings. But the rain beating down just a few feet away seemed to cocoon them in this tiny space under the rocks. Atlantis and civilization and propriety all seemed very far away. She was abruptly aware of his body, radiating warmth along her side, and the pressure of the arm he hadn't removed from her stomach.
It had been much longer than she cared to think about since she'd had a man this close to her, and not because of sickness or because she was tending to an injury.
He started to pull away, his face closing down at her hesitation. Janet grabbed his arm, using it as leverage to flip onto her side facing him. Her other hand cupped his cheek and she kissed him again.
His lips were slightly chapped underneath his beard, but he kissed her back. Ronon was hesitating, though. The kiss was polite and delicate and Janet felt herself get almost angry with him. She had appreciated his tenderness before, but she didn't want it now. No woman would want to crawl into bed with this man for his politeness.
The thought brought her up short, because she wasn't sure when in her head this had gone from kissing to wanting more than that. Even kissing him like this wasn't something she should be indulging in. Going farther than that would be dangerous in more ways than one. But he seemed to be catching up even as she thought to stop. The arm around her waist tightened and he rolled backwards, dragging her body flush against his. His other hand cradled the back of her head and Ronon kissed her harder, coaxing her lips to part and kindling a furnace inside of her body almost instantly.
Concerns about propriety faded at the feel of his broad chest against hers. She could smell his scent underneath the leather and smoke from the fire and the damp from the rain. He smelled wonderful and the tiny droplets of rain scattering over them felt like a benediction, washing away the scents of blood and death from the camp, and that feeling of freedom and cleanness did more to spur her response than anything else.
Janet let her body fall fully against his, reveling in the feel of his reaction against her leg and the answering heat low inside her belly. She kissed him back eagerly. She felt flushed with energy, even though logically she knew she was still tired and probably not thinking straight. It was just the two of them here and the rain and nothing else mattered.
Ronon kissed like he did most everything save talking: with power and skill. She had to pull away, gasping in sips of air between the assault of his lips. Meanwhile his hands began to slide over her body. The arm over her back moved lower, pulling her in so that his thigh was in between hers and Janet let out an uncontrollable, pleased sound at the sensation.
Something about the noise made him still. She propped herself up, out of breath and curious. Ronon settled his hands on her hips, looking at her with a mix of open lust and guarded concern.
"Janet," he started, and then stopped. There was a world of meaning behind just her name and she knew what he was asking.
Emotion was running riot through her, but it was dominated by a passion that overwhelmed her. The way he looked at her salved some sore spot she hadn't even been aware of. She felt... beautiful. Desired. Alive.
She retained enough modesty that she couldn't answer him with words, but that seemed only appropriate with a man who talked so little. She pushed herself upright and, not breaking eye contact with him, reached for the buttons of her shirt. His shirt, actually. He had handed it to her silently when she realized her own blouse was ruined.
She undid the buttons and tugged until the material fell free. The cool air on her shoulders gave her goose bumps, but she barely felt it with the way his eyes roamed over her exposed skin. She had a moment to be grateful she didn't wear a corset anymore, since it was too uncomfortable for her daily activities.
He met her eyes again, and they stared at one another. For a moment, she feared that he had thought the better of this and was going to reject her. Embarrassment began to heat her face.
In a swift move, she found herself on her back again. Her chemise was pulled down and out of the way as Ronon took her mouth again hungrily before trailing his lips down her jaw, her throat. Then he covered her breast with his mouth. Janet whimpered again, a river of heat flooding through her body. She shuddered underneath him as he teased and licked and it was only when cold air flowed over her legs that she registered that he was tugging her skirt and petticoat up.
His mouth moved to her other breast even as his hands shoved her skirts out of his way and dragged her underclothes down enough to insinuate his hand between her thighs.
She wanted to cry out but her breath seemed gone. Years of loneliness seemed to weigh on her as his tongue and his fingers began to caress her, arousing her with a startling speed. Janet buried her fingers in his hair, the thick locks curling around her hands, and just held on.
Her hips pushed into his hand involuntarily as he teased her, the rocking motion something she had all but forgotten over the years since her husband had died. The calloused fingers working between her legs, working inside of her now, felt like nothing she remembered. When his teeth raked over the tip of her breast she found her voice and moaned as her body trembled under him.
He didn't stop. She had barely recovered from one profound release before he was coaxing her to another, and then another. She pulled on his hair, drawing him into another searing kiss even as her body throbbed again.
She lost track of time, aware only of Ronon, his body and his movements and the need deep inside her to feel him. She finally managed to find her will again, holding him off long enough to slide her hands down his torso. She wished he was naked, that it was his smooth, bare skin she was caressing. She'd seen his body before, but not without pain, not when she was free to touch and savor. But she went instead to the fastenings of his pants. He was staring down at her, eyes wide and dark with lust until they shut as she got her hands on him. When she stroked her fingers lightly over him, she was rewarded with the grunt of approval and his hips pushing against her hand.
She shoved her own underpants out of the way, not bothering to remove her skirts or anything else. Ronon settled between her knees, looking at her uncertainly. She urged him closer, whispering, "It's safe enough."
Then he was entering her, slowly and carefully, and tears began to fill her eyes because it had been so long since she felt this. Memories of him over these last few years flashed through her mind at dizzying speeds, and Janet admitted to herself that deep down in some buried place in her mind, she'd wanted this with him since almost their first meeting. She pushed the past away, focusing on the heavy breaths against her neck, the ache of her muscles and the throbbing heat deep within her as it started to spread through her entire body.
They began to move together slowly. When she tried to force him faster, he refused, frustrating her attempts. He kissed her mouth, teased her neck with his lips, his hand fondling her breasts before slipping between their joined bodies, making her thrash wildly against him. Finally she growled and bit his lower lip harder than she intended. He thrust into her in an almost primal response to her actions, and then stilled.
Janet let out a desperate noise when he stopped. "Ronon, please," she begged softly.
He pinned her with a look for a long moment, then muttered breathlessly as he started to move harder and deeper inside of her, "Don't you let me hurt you."
"You won't," she gasped out, clinging to him for dear life. "You wouldn't." Then all she could do was hold on, sinking into sensation and the building tension between them until it exploded. She cried his name against his throat and his hands dug into her hips so hard she knew there would be bruises even as he shook in her arms.
She had no idea how much time passed while she drifted contentedly, not even troubled by the weight of his body on top of her. Ronon nuzzled her neck, his beard tickling her enough to make her wriggle. She felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin. His voice was rough and speaking right in her ear, vibrating through her. "I'd give a lot to do this in a bed."
She laughed lightly even as he pulled away, ruefully massaging his knees. He had been kneeling on the rough stone the whole time, after all. Without his body heat the air was uncomfortably cool and she reached for the discarded shirt and began to settle her clothing. When she was dressed again, she realized Ronon was watching her carefully. He seemed to almost be bracing himself for something, and Janet didn't remember ever seeing him quite so vulnerable before. He reached out and touched her cheek, his thumb grazing her lips. On impulse, she kissed it, smiling a little as her tongue brushed against his skin. His eyes practically glowed with warmth.
The next moment, though, he pulled away, his focus shifting from her out into the rain. Janet stopped, listening and then she heard it as well. A metal clanking sound, and it wasn't coming from the two horses standing off to the side of the overhang.
Ronon doused the fire quickly, drawing his gun in almost the same instant. "Stay here," he said, so low she hardly heard him over the rain.
He disappeared into the downpour and for several endless minutes she waited, ears straining for any sound she could detect.
When he emerged from the darkness again, his face was black and cold. "We have to go. Now."
*~*~*~*
It was late in the night but John couldn't sleep. He wished he could believe it was simple nervousness over the ranch, being placed in charge of it while Mitchell and Ferguson were gone. But that wasn't it.
He'd gotten used to going to sleep in the extra room at Elizabeth's. Grown accustomed to being able to say good night and have her face be one of the last things he saw before he slept. He hadn't seen her all day, and that hadn't happened in weeks now.
He hated it. He had to laugh at himself. For how many years he had been going weeks and months without seeing her at all, and now he was so tied to her apron-strings one day was too much.
Well, there were worse things in life, John thought.
The rainstorm outside was finally diminishing, but he heard a noise even over the pattering of the drops. A thumping sound, something very much out of place. He sat up, pulling on his boots and grabbing his gun and the lantern.
The ranch was quiet, of course. John edged out of the house and raised the lantern. Ferguson's dog was standing, his nose and ears pointed towards the barn.
The barn door was open. John knew he had closed it earlier.
He approached the barn carefully, the dog at his heels. The rain meant he couldn't see any clear tracks on the ground, but that didn't mean someone hadn't broken into the barn. He nudged the door open further with his foot, and was greeted with quiet.
Half-expecting a shot to ring out, he stepped into the barn. The horses looked askance at him, but they appeared calm. Methodically he searched the stalls and then climbed warily up into the hayloft, but there wasn't a sign of another soul.
He climbed down, scouring the building one last time. A gust of wind blew over the barn, making the wood creak, and John concluded that it was possible he simply hadn't latched the door tightly enough and the storm had blown the door open. He should probably just be grateful none of the animals had managed to bolt out into the night.
He went back outside, pulling the door shut and securing it firmly. That was when he heard hoof beats, heavy and approaching fast.
The lantern was on the ground. John left it, moving to the side of the barn, into the shadows where he could see without being seen more easily. Someone was riding up the path to the ranch at a reckless pace and John leveled his gun, his body tense and sweating.
The dog went crazy and began to bark, racing towards the approaching horse and rider. John recognized one of the horses first, then noticed the figure slumped across the animal's back. "Mitchell?"
Cameron nearly slid off the saddle when John approached. In the dim light it took a moment to realize the other man was covered in blood. "Cameron, what happened?"
Cameron grabbed John's arm tightly. He looked close to passing out. "The Wraith. An army. They're headed straight for Atlantis."
*~*~*~*
Elizabeth clutched her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. Her nightgown didn't provide much protection against the chill in the early morning air, yet inside her boots her bare feet were sweating.
The rest of her was trembling. The Wraith were coming. Bryce Ferguson was gone. Cameron Mitchell lay close to death while Carson Beckett worked feverishly to try to save him. Elizabeth stood on the porch of Beckett's office with Stephen Caldwell, Marcus Lorne and John. Kate Lorne and Laura Beckett stood nearby as well. The sound of their voices was bringing other people out of their homes and into the street even though the sun was not yet up.
When John had awakened her by pounding on the back door, he'd scared her nearly to death. For a moment she'd honestly thought he was a ghost. His face was pale and drawn and there was blood all over him. He had been the one to bring Mitchell into town and report what the other man had said about an army of Wraith headed for Atlantis.
"You're sure he said 'army'?" Caldwell asked John for the third time.
"Yes," John snapped, scrubbing a tired hand over his face. "He said an army made up of the Wraith gang was coming here."
She shared a bleak look with Stephen. Mayor Hammond was absent, visiting his daughter. Jack O'Neill, the deputy mayor, and Jonas Quinn were traveling for their duties as the territory's Indian agents. Daniel had taken Mr. Teal'c with him to St. Louis. And Ronon Dex had gone with Janet up to the mining camp two days ago. They would have been dangerously outgunned in any case, but the absence of so many men, including Cameron now, made their position nigh on hopeless.
John seemed well aware of this. He was pacing the short space on the end of the porch restlessly, staring alternately at the horizon and at her. "We could try to run for it," he said quietly.
Caldwell's face darkened further. "If the army is actually an army, odds are they've encircled the town already, or close. A few people might slip through but we'd never be able to get everyone out."
Elizabeth's eyes darted to Kate and Laura. Kate was pregnant, as everyone in town knew. A dangerous flight from the town would be an enormous risk. And incongruously at that moment, considering Kate's condition, it finally struck Elizabeth why Laura had been so sick the last few weeks. The look of fear Laura gave her was enough to confirm it.
Marcus shook his head. "It could be a trap, trying to drive us to do just that, try to run from the town where at least we have some cover and supplies."
John nodded reluctantly.
"What do we do, then?" she asked the three men.
Stephen straightened. "I'm going to summon all my deputies to duty. We'll need to announce this to everyone. People need to prepare."
"We should inventory all the weapons and ammunition we have," Marcus added.
The sheriff nodded. "Everyone will have to combine their resources. There's no other way we'll get through this." He didn't add that the odds of them getting through this were not good either way.
John came to stand alongside of her and Elizabeth felt a momentary relief that he was there. Not out in the wilderness someplace, not out at the ranch, which was far enough from town as to be dangerously exposed.
The next thought struck her hard. "Oh my God! The Athosians!" The Athosian camp was on the outskirts of Atlantis. Totally exposed and vulnerable, they needed to be warned of the imminent threat.
She heard Stephen mutter a curse under his breath. "Someone will have to ride out there and warn them."
All of them turned and looked at John. He stared back in shock for a moment, then his face hardened dangerously. "No. Send someone else."
"John," she put a hand on his arm. "There is no one else." She hardly relished the idea of him racing pell-mell out to the camp and possibly right into the arms of the Wraith, even if he was much stronger than when he'd first been injured. But someone had to go.
"No!" he bellowed, ripping his arm out of her grasp, causing several people who had been creeping closer across the street to jump. "I'm not going anywhere!"
"John, be reasonable-"
"I will not be reasonable, Elizabeth! There is a God-damned Wraith army on the way here! I'm not letting you out of my sight!"
The profanity drew a couple shocked gasps, followed immediately by shouts of alarm, but Elizabeth ignored them. John was shaking and his face was not merely pale but white. She'd seen him look danger and death in the face without flinching before, but right now, he was utterly terrified.
She remembered his nightmares, the way he'd been glued to her side since he woke up from the coma, the clues she had collected about what he'd seen in his dreams. He wasn't afraid for himself, he was afraid for her. So afraid he was willing to let Teyla and her people die instead of leaving her side.
Part of her screamed that she had been right to hesitate about their engagement all this while. If John was acting out of fear from some silly dream, he would certainly get over it.
The other part of her realized she had never once seen John look at her like this, so openly.
She drew him away from the door a little and the beginning of a panic in the rest of the town, leaving Stephen to deal with it. "John, just think about this for a moment. Even in your current state, you're the fastest rider we have."
"Lorne could do it," John growled.
She shook her head. "No. You can't ask him to leave his pregnant wife for this, not when we both know you're the better rider."
He stared at her for a long moment, as though he wanted to argue the point some more. Elizabeth stared right back, hating it but knowing the truth. "John, you have to, and you know it."
He swallowed, shaking his head once as if to say no, but he didn't speak. She looked at him, waiting. He wouldn't abandon Teyla or the Athosians, not even for her. John Sheppard didn't leave people behind.
John abruptly grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her deeply, regardless of their audience. She couldn't help clinging to him and kissing him back, just in case. His forehead rested against hers for a moment. "You be here when I get back, Elizabeth." His voice cracked as he said her name. "Promise me."
"I will. And hurry."
His fingers brushed her cheek lightly and then he turned and hurried to his horse. Elizabeth watched as he mounted, giving her one last, piercing look, before he yelled, snapping the reins and charging down the street as if demons were at his heels.
*~*~*~*
Janet clung to the pommel as the horse struggled down a rough patch of earth on the side of a gulley. Her whole body ached with lack of sleep and stress and hours spent desperately hanging on to the horse and trying to stay silent. Somewhere very close by was a huge swarm of the Wraith gang. Ronon was attempting to slip past them and reach Atlantis.
She could feel the tension in him, and she knew not all of it was the fault of the Wraith. A vicious fight, conducted in whispers a few hours ago, was still hanging between them. Ronon had attempted to force her to go back to the mining camp or up into hiding after he got them away from the patrol that had nearly surprised them under the rocks.
But knowing that the Wraith were planning to strike at Atlantis, there was only one thing to do. She had to go home.
Ronon's opinion of her in that moment had been succinct and incredibly profane, but Janet hadn't backed down.
He stopped the horse and handed her the reins. He leaned close to her ear, the proximity and the warm breath on her neck provoking a reaction in her that she couldn't control. Silently she cursed her body's horrible timing.
"Hold tight to the reins," Ronon said so low she could only just understand the words. "When I tell you, we're going to make a run for it. You have to guide the horse, straight down the gulley and then towards the road."
"What are you going to do?" she whispered. She was confused until she craned her neck and saw him holding a gun in each hand. His rifle was under the saddlebags, loaded and ready.
Ronon's smile was positively wolfish.
*~*~*~*
John rode more on instinct than anything, sending the horse down the path towards the Athosian settlement at a dangerously reckless pace. Every minute was a struggle not to turn back to the town, back to Elizabeth.
A memory, of a lone female figure watching him ride away from Atlantis, haunted his thoughts. The last view of Elizabeth he'd had in that other world or dream or whatever it had been. Nightmare.
He fought down the bile that rose in his throat.
This was different, he told himself firmly. The Wraith were nowhere in sight and therefore Elizabeth wasn't in any material danger yet. He hadn't left her, he'd gone to rescue people - friends - and get them to safety. He would get back to Atlantis in time.
Assuming he could persuade Teyla to bring her people quickly. Except there were dozens of men, women and children who would have to be moved, some on foot, which could take hours...
He dug his heels into the horse's flanks, urging the animal to go even faster.
*~*~*~*
It was afternoon and Elizabeth was cataloging bandages and other supplies alongside Laura in the front room of Carson's office, wishing desperately that Janet was there. Though she knew that her friend was probably safer up at the mining camp than here. And she was with Ronon. If anyone could keep Janet safe and alive through this, it was him.
Carson himself was still hovering over Cameron Mitchell. The bullet in the man's left arm had been removed. The other one had passed clean through his side, which was a small mercy. But Cameron would be in no shape to fight.
There were footsteps outside and Stephen Caldwell peeked in the door. Elizabeth set down the bandage she was rolling and moved out onto the porch. Stephen still looked frazzled, and she could hardly blame him. They both had lost precious time earlier in the morning arguing loudly with Robert Kinsey about the reality of the Wraith threat. After Kinsey made a number of insinuations and spoke outright slanders about John and Cameron both, Stephen had finally snapped. Drawing himself up, he used all the force of his weight and bearing - which was considerable, for Stephen was not a small man by any measure - to glare at Kinsey and bellowed that the man could either help or get the hell out of the way.
It was all she could do not to laugh, or applaud.
Kinsey had finally stalked off, muttering. Stephen's ears had turned red and he apologized for his swearing. It was almost endearing.
"What's our status?" she asked. Other than Kinsey, she was the only member of the Town Council in Atlantis, and since Kinsey was not taking the situation seriously, it fell to her to keep order in the town.
"We've organized the existing ammunition and gunpowder into caches to be placed around the town. We'll get everyone who can shoot a weapon together now, with large groups around Dr. Beckett's office and the jail. We'll gather all the children together in the jail," Stephen reported.
"Why the jail?" she frowned. She would have expected the children to be put in the church.
Stephen scanned the horizon, something everyone in town had been doing restlessly all day despite the presence of lookouts. "It's the only building made of brickwork and stone, rather than wood. It'll be less likely to burn."
Elizabeth's stomach turned over at that. She had eaten a few dry crackers this morning and nothing else, but that wasn't the cause for the nausea.
Stephen stilled, looking out at the southern skyline. The tension in him suddenly became palpable and Elizabeth turned, dread flooding her. It took her several moments to notice anything, but finally she saw a thin cloud near the edge of the horizon. A dust cloud, like that kicked up by horses. By many, many horses.
She whirled the other way, and sure enough to the west was another cloud.
"Oh my God," she whispered. Until that moment, some part of her mind had been futilely hoping that this was all a mistake, or that Cameron was wrong about the numbers involved. But now she knew. This was really happening.
Stephen put a hand on her arm to steady her, but all she could think of was John. There was no sign to the east, and she knew it would take time to muster the entire Athosian camp and move them. But she wanted him back here now. Whatever was going to happen, she didn't want to face it without seeing him again.
There was a cry of alarm, and her heart leapt, but it came from the west, not the east. Everyone turned and Stephen ran towards deputy Bates, who was waving and pointing at something. She followed as fast as she could.
Stephen had taken a spy-glass from Bates and was looking at something. Elizabeth squinted until she spotted movement. A horse, with what looked to be one very large rider, was racing across the open ground towards Atlantis.
Suddenly, in the distant horizon behind the lone rider, something blotted out the earth. It was a mass of men and horses who came up and over a ridge in a great wave. They were chasing, she realized. Chasing the man on the horse, who was somehow firing wildly at them.
"Sir," Bates began but Stephen shook his head before the other man could finish.
"He's too far out yet." Stephen waved to someone and another deputy, a young man named Stackhouse, approached with a rifle. He settled his arms on a barrel and took aim, but Elizabeth knew Stephen was right. The rider and the Wraith were out of range.
They waited in tense silence, watching as the horse approached the city, hooves and dirt flying under the breakneck pace. A knot of Wraith riders were giving chase, but they were behind and falling further.
The rider was close enough now for Elizabeth to recognize Ronon, but something was still wrong with the way he looked on the horse. The men around her sighed in relief and she realized the Wraith who had been chasing him had given up.
The horse didn't slow at all until it reached the road leading into Atlantis, and Elizabeth finally understood what had looked so wrong. Janet Fraiser was perched in front of Ronon. They pulled up alongside the jail and Bates helped Janet climb down. "Elizabeth!"
Elizabeth hugged her friend tightly for a moment. Janet was shaking a little, her hair in disarray, which was no great surprise. "You should have stayed away," she said quietly.
"That's what I told her," Ronon growled, hopping down behind Janet.
The shorter woman glared at him. "I could hardly turn my back on my own town right now. I imagine Carson is laying in supplies?" she asked. "Did anyone go through my office yet? All right, then." Janet steadied herself, smoothing back stray pieces of hair, and marched off towards her house without further discussion, no doubt to collect whatever medical supplies she had and bring them to Carson's.
Stephen turned to Ronon. "How many are there?"
"Not as many as it looks," Ronon said, gulping water from a canteen. "They've got a lot of livestock with them." Stephen's expression grew darker.
"Livestock?" Elizabeth said, confused.
"They'll herd the animals together and stampede them towards the town. We'll have to waste ammunition and energy repelling the stock and that will open the way for the men."
A morbid silence fell on the group and they looked out at the mass of men to the west.
"Why have they stopped?" Stackhouse wondered.
"Waiting for the others to catch up," Bates replied.
"More than that. They'll probably wait until nightfall to attack," Ronon said, staring coldly at the bandits he had just outrun. "Let everyone in town see themselves surrounded and work up into a good panic before they lift a finger." He spat on the ground. Stephen looked at Elizabeth for a moment with concern, as if he feared how she was handling this news.
She steeled herself. So much about this was too horrible to contemplate, so she wasn't going to. "There has to be something we can do to even the odds," she said firmly.
"There is," a voice said behind her. She turned to find Rodney McKay standing there, with Radek Zelenka hovering behind him. "I have an idea of how we can-"
Even now, Radek interrupted with a tiny glare. "We have an idea."
"Yes, yes, but it was really my mentioning of a moat that started it-"
Elizabeth rubbed her forehead, trying not to yell. "Gentlemen!"
The two looked at her sheepishly for a moment and Rodney cleared his throat. "As I was saying, we have an idea for increasing the protection around the town. The fire break," he added hastily as Stephen made a restless movement.
A few years earlier, after a dangerous prairie fire had damaged several buildings, Rodney had suggested digging a large trench around the circumference of the town. It acted as a break for any fires approaching Atlantis, although it had never been tested by a real prairie fire. Mostly it turned muddy in spring and fall and attracted bugs.
Elizabeth wasn't the only one confused, clearly. "Where are you going to get the water?" Stephen asked.
"What water?"
"You mentioned a moat-" Bates put in.
"No, no, that was where we got the idea, but there's not nearly enough water in the town for that, plus they'd just jump over it and we'd all die of dehydration..."
"McKay!" Ronon bellowed, saving Stephen and Elizabeth the trouble.
Rodney swallowed. "Fire."
"What?"
"We use the dynamite left over from the mining company supplies," Rodney glanced at Elizabeth. She did in fact have a crate of the dangerous stuff out in a supply shed behind the store, kept at a safe distance from the buildings. "We can ignite the grass outside the break when the Wraith attack starts, help drive them back."
"Won't that kill anyone too close to the dynamite? And won't the Wraith just pick off anyone who goes outside the town?" Bates asked.
"But if they do not see it happening, we could get people into the trench and use gunpowder as a sort of remote detonator," Radek said.
"Yes, ignite the gunpowder which sets off the dynamite which sets the grass on fire..." Rodney waved a hand in the air.
Elizabeth turned to Stephen and Ronon. She was well out of her depth here, but to her at least it sounded like a good idea. Not to mention they had very few other ideas of any kind anyway.
"We could concentrate their approach," Ronon said, glancing out at the horses milling distantly on the horizon. "Make them aim only for the roads, keep the animals from getting into the town and causing problems."
"The grass fire won't last very long, though," Bates said glumly.
"I'm sure we could come up with something that would burn longer," Rodney said, glancing at his partner.
"The problem is how to get this all in place without the Wraith seeing it. They'll charge us if they figure out what we're up to," Stephen said, folding his arms.
There was a short pause, until Rodney began to snap his fingers. "I've got an idea," he said breathlessly.
*~*~*~*
John's one small piece of good fortune had been that Teyla already had her people up and packing when he came in sight. He didn't stop to ask how she knew, but threw himself into hurrying the Athosians' progress. They were people accustomed to picking up and moving, but this required more speed and sacrifice of possessions than they were used to. It took too long to assemble them all, and Teyla would not move forward until everyone was more or less ready.
John bit his tongue until it bled from impatience.
Even at their best speed, it still took hours to get them all in sight of Atlantis. The afternoon sun was slanting down on the town by the time they were nearly there. Meanwhile behind them on the horizon, a cloud had risen. Wraith soldiers, closing in fast.
That had an effect on the speed of the enterprise. Fear pushed many into running and John made no attempt to stop them. He wanted to break away and hurry into the town, but he forced himself to linger near the back with Teyla, chiding the stragglers and keeping a wary eye on the horizon. When he was starting to make out the forms of horses and riders, the last of the Athosians were within rifle range of Atlantis. He let out a sigh of relief.
The town had been encircled with wagons and carriages, laden with straw. They formed a protective ring around the entire town, leaving only two roads open on either end. The roads were barricaded with more hay bales. It was a start, although John wasn't sure how effective a deterrent they would be to a stampede, even when set on fire.
Teyla and two of Caldwell's deputies were herding the Athosians in various directions, giving them tasks to do once they had settled themselves. John didn't see Elizabeth anywhere, but in scanning the streets he spotted an unexpected face.
"Ronon!"
The tall man crossed the ground in a couple strides and they clapped arms and embraced. "You should've stayed away," John said.
Ronon grinned in that slightly scary way he had. "You knew I wouldn't miss this."
John chuckled a little. "Miss Fraiser all right?" Ronon's face went dark and he glared in the direction of Beckett's offices. "You brought her back here?" John said incredulously.
"Wasn't my idea!" Ronon shot back.
Knowing Janet as he did, John wasn't that surprised, really. He decided to set the subject aside. "Have you seen Miss Weir?"
"She's helping McKay with something," Ronon said.
That took him aback for a moment, as he couldn't imagine what Elizabeth could possibly be doing to help the scientist, but given the situation, anything was possible. He nodded and turned away, intent on locating Rodney. It wasn't too hard. The other man was standing near the jail with Caldwell, Bates and Marcus Lorne. "McKay!"
It was Caldwell who greeted him. "Sheppard. Good to have you back in one piece." John didn't fool himself about the welcome. The sheriff knew they needed every able body and gun if they were going to live through this.
"Yes, with the Athosians to help we might be able to-"
John interrupted Rodney. "Where's Miss Weir?"
"Oh," Rodney swallowed. He looked anxious and the relief John had felt about getting back to Atlantis bled away.
"Ronon said she was helping you with something." No answer. "Rodney, where's Elizabeth?"
The other man looked close to panicking. "She's... not here right now."
For a split second John's heart seized, picturing Elizabeth on horseback somewhere out there in the hills, but that was ridiculous. Caldwell would never let her leave. He took a step closer to Rodney, anxiety making him glare. "Where is she?"
Caldwell put a hand on John's chest, trying to back him off. John slapped it away. Real fear was simmering in him now. They were afraid to tell him something, and John felt his self-control slipping away. "Where is Elizabeth?" he yelled.
"She's fine, Sheppard. She's just not here-" Caldwell started.
Before he really thought about what he was doing, John drew his gun and pointed it at Caldwell.
"John!" Ronon was suddenly next to him, and around them everything got very quiet.
"Look, this is crazy, she's perfectly safe, just calm down!" Rodney sputtered. John ignored him.
"Tell me where she is," he growled, staring Caldwell in the eye.
*~*~*~*
Part 4
Part 2
Part 3
Janet finally came fully awake to the sound of heavy rain and the tiny crackling noises of a fire. She opened her eyes to see a few sticks of flame burning before her. Overhead was dull stone - an outcropping of rock that was sheltering them from the downpour she could see beyond their horses. She dimly remembered riding from the camp and then Ronon waking her enough to get her off his horse. She had worried down some crackers he gave her and then fell asleep again as soon as he urged her to lie down.
Ronon's body was a solid wall of heat behind her. Although she knew it rationally, it was a slight shock to realize just how big he was. Her head was below his chin and her feet barely reached down to his knees. He had slung an arm around her waist in his sleep, the heavy weight of it keeping her close.
It should have felt uncomfortable. Though it had been years since Ronon and John had first come to Atlantis and she had found herself caring for his injuries for the first (but not last) time, she didn't know him all that well. And having him holding her like this, trapping her in effect, should have been too intimate. But it didn't feel uncomfortable. She felt safe, and the feeling wasn't nearly as smothering as she would have expected it to be.
She turned carefully onto her back and Ronon stirred, blinking at her slowly. His expression was unusually open and direct. He spent so much time scowling at the world, and his life was so full of violence, it was easy to forget that he was fairly young, and that he had the capacity for great kindness.
She'd had proof enough of that in the way he'd been taking care of her since they left Atlantis. Though he'd been a friend to her in the past, and she knew he was loyal to a fault, she'd never seen him behaving this way with anyone. Through the fugue of the last two days of misery, Janet wouldn't soon forget the way he'd been supporting her through all of it. Thinking back on her initial opposition to him coming with her, she felt like a fool.
He looked at her expectantly. She nodded a little. Then, on impulse, she stretched up and brushed a kiss against his mouth.
She intended it only to be a thank you and an apology for her own stubbornness. She hadn't been counting on the flicker of heat - of longing - that went across his face. He wiped it away but not soon enough.
Something within her warmed in response. Something that hadn't been fully awake for a long, long time.
Janet knew there were many reasons not to do what she was now thinking of doing, the least of which being that she was exhausted and emotionally drained by the last few days, and that they were out here in the middle of nowhere and needed to be mindful of their surroundings. But the rain beating down just a few feet away seemed to cocoon them in this tiny space under the rocks. Atlantis and civilization and propriety all seemed very far away. She was abruptly aware of his body, radiating warmth along her side, and the pressure of the arm he hadn't removed from her stomach.
It had been much longer than she cared to think about since she'd had a man this close to her, and not because of sickness or because she was tending to an injury.
He started to pull away, his face closing down at her hesitation. Janet grabbed his arm, using it as leverage to flip onto her side facing him. Her other hand cupped his cheek and she kissed him again.
His lips were slightly chapped underneath his beard, but he kissed her back. Ronon was hesitating, though. The kiss was polite and delicate and Janet felt herself get almost angry with him. She had appreciated his tenderness before, but she didn't want it now. No woman would want to crawl into bed with this man for his politeness.
The thought brought her up short, because she wasn't sure when in her head this had gone from kissing to wanting more than that. Even kissing him like this wasn't something she should be indulging in. Going farther than that would be dangerous in more ways than one. But he seemed to be catching up even as she thought to stop. The arm around her waist tightened and he rolled backwards, dragging her body flush against his. His other hand cradled the back of her head and Ronon kissed her harder, coaxing her lips to part and kindling a furnace inside of her body almost instantly.
Concerns about propriety faded at the feel of his broad chest against hers. She could smell his scent underneath the leather and smoke from the fire and the damp from the rain. He smelled wonderful and the tiny droplets of rain scattering over them felt like a benediction, washing away the scents of blood and death from the camp, and that feeling of freedom and cleanness did more to spur her response than anything else.
Janet let her body fall fully against his, reveling in the feel of his reaction against her leg and the answering heat low inside her belly. She kissed him back eagerly. She felt flushed with energy, even though logically she knew she was still tired and probably not thinking straight. It was just the two of them here and the rain and nothing else mattered.
Ronon kissed like he did most everything save talking: with power and skill. She had to pull away, gasping in sips of air between the assault of his lips. Meanwhile his hands began to slide over her body. The arm over her back moved lower, pulling her in so that his thigh was in between hers and Janet let out an uncontrollable, pleased sound at the sensation.
Something about the noise made him still. She propped herself up, out of breath and curious. Ronon settled his hands on her hips, looking at her with a mix of open lust and guarded concern.
"Janet," he started, and then stopped. There was a world of meaning behind just her name and she knew what he was asking.
Emotion was running riot through her, but it was dominated by a passion that overwhelmed her. The way he looked at her salved some sore spot she hadn't even been aware of. She felt... beautiful. Desired. Alive.
She retained enough modesty that she couldn't answer him with words, but that seemed only appropriate with a man who talked so little. She pushed herself upright and, not breaking eye contact with him, reached for the buttons of her shirt. His shirt, actually. He had handed it to her silently when she realized her own blouse was ruined.
She undid the buttons and tugged until the material fell free. The cool air on her shoulders gave her goose bumps, but she barely felt it with the way his eyes roamed over her exposed skin. She had a moment to be grateful she didn't wear a corset anymore, since it was too uncomfortable for her daily activities.
He met her eyes again, and they stared at one another. For a moment, she feared that he had thought the better of this and was going to reject her. Embarrassment began to heat her face.
In a swift move, she found herself on her back again. Her chemise was pulled down and out of the way as Ronon took her mouth again hungrily before trailing his lips down her jaw, her throat. Then he covered her breast with his mouth. Janet whimpered again, a river of heat flooding through her body. She shuddered underneath him as he teased and licked and it was only when cold air flowed over her legs that she registered that he was tugging her skirt and petticoat up.
His mouth moved to her other breast even as his hands shoved her skirts out of his way and dragged her underclothes down enough to insinuate his hand between her thighs.
She wanted to cry out but her breath seemed gone. Years of loneliness seemed to weigh on her as his tongue and his fingers began to caress her, arousing her with a startling speed. Janet buried her fingers in his hair, the thick locks curling around her hands, and just held on.
Her hips pushed into his hand involuntarily as he teased her, the rocking motion something she had all but forgotten over the years since her husband had died. The calloused fingers working between her legs, working inside of her now, felt like nothing she remembered. When his teeth raked over the tip of her breast she found her voice and moaned as her body trembled under him.
He didn't stop. She had barely recovered from one profound release before he was coaxing her to another, and then another. She pulled on his hair, drawing him into another searing kiss even as her body throbbed again.
She lost track of time, aware only of Ronon, his body and his movements and the need deep inside her to feel him. She finally managed to find her will again, holding him off long enough to slide her hands down his torso. She wished he was naked, that it was his smooth, bare skin she was caressing. She'd seen his body before, but not without pain, not when she was free to touch and savor. But she went instead to the fastenings of his pants. He was staring down at her, eyes wide and dark with lust until they shut as she got her hands on him. When she stroked her fingers lightly over him, she was rewarded with the grunt of approval and his hips pushing against her hand.
She shoved her own underpants out of the way, not bothering to remove her skirts or anything else. Ronon settled between her knees, looking at her uncertainly. She urged him closer, whispering, "It's safe enough."
Then he was entering her, slowly and carefully, and tears began to fill her eyes because it had been so long since she felt this. Memories of him over these last few years flashed through her mind at dizzying speeds, and Janet admitted to herself that deep down in some buried place in her mind, she'd wanted this with him since almost their first meeting. She pushed the past away, focusing on the heavy breaths against her neck, the ache of her muscles and the throbbing heat deep within her as it started to spread through her entire body.
They began to move together slowly. When she tried to force him faster, he refused, frustrating her attempts. He kissed her mouth, teased her neck with his lips, his hand fondling her breasts before slipping between their joined bodies, making her thrash wildly against him. Finally she growled and bit his lower lip harder than she intended. He thrust into her in an almost primal response to her actions, and then stilled.
Janet let out a desperate noise when he stopped. "Ronon, please," she begged softly.
He pinned her with a look for a long moment, then muttered breathlessly as he started to move harder and deeper inside of her, "Don't you let me hurt you."
"You won't," she gasped out, clinging to him for dear life. "You wouldn't." Then all she could do was hold on, sinking into sensation and the building tension between them until it exploded. She cried his name against his throat and his hands dug into her hips so hard she knew there would be bruises even as he shook in her arms.
She had no idea how much time passed while she drifted contentedly, not even troubled by the weight of his body on top of her. Ronon nuzzled her neck, his beard tickling her enough to make her wriggle. She felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin. His voice was rough and speaking right in her ear, vibrating through her. "I'd give a lot to do this in a bed."
She laughed lightly even as he pulled away, ruefully massaging his knees. He had been kneeling on the rough stone the whole time, after all. Without his body heat the air was uncomfortably cool and she reached for the discarded shirt and began to settle her clothing. When she was dressed again, she realized Ronon was watching her carefully. He seemed to almost be bracing himself for something, and Janet didn't remember ever seeing him quite so vulnerable before. He reached out and touched her cheek, his thumb grazing her lips. On impulse, she kissed it, smiling a little as her tongue brushed against his skin. His eyes practically glowed with warmth.
The next moment, though, he pulled away, his focus shifting from her out into the rain. Janet stopped, listening and then she heard it as well. A metal clanking sound, and it wasn't coming from the two horses standing off to the side of the overhang.
Ronon doused the fire quickly, drawing his gun in almost the same instant. "Stay here," he said, so low she hardly heard him over the rain.
He disappeared into the downpour and for several endless minutes she waited, ears straining for any sound she could detect.
When he emerged from the darkness again, his face was black and cold. "We have to go. Now."
*~*~*~*
It was late in the night but John couldn't sleep. He wished he could believe it was simple nervousness over the ranch, being placed in charge of it while Mitchell and Ferguson were gone. But that wasn't it.
He'd gotten used to going to sleep in the extra room at Elizabeth's. Grown accustomed to being able to say good night and have her face be one of the last things he saw before he slept. He hadn't seen her all day, and that hadn't happened in weeks now.
He hated it. He had to laugh at himself. For how many years he had been going weeks and months without seeing her at all, and now he was so tied to her apron-strings one day was too much.
Well, there were worse things in life, John thought.
The rainstorm outside was finally diminishing, but he heard a noise even over the pattering of the drops. A thumping sound, something very much out of place. He sat up, pulling on his boots and grabbing his gun and the lantern.
The ranch was quiet, of course. John edged out of the house and raised the lantern. Ferguson's dog was standing, his nose and ears pointed towards the barn.
The barn door was open. John knew he had closed it earlier.
He approached the barn carefully, the dog at his heels. The rain meant he couldn't see any clear tracks on the ground, but that didn't mean someone hadn't broken into the barn. He nudged the door open further with his foot, and was greeted with quiet.
Half-expecting a shot to ring out, he stepped into the barn. The horses looked askance at him, but they appeared calm. Methodically he searched the stalls and then climbed warily up into the hayloft, but there wasn't a sign of another soul.
He climbed down, scouring the building one last time. A gust of wind blew over the barn, making the wood creak, and John concluded that it was possible he simply hadn't latched the door tightly enough and the storm had blown the door open. He should probably just be grateful none of the animals had managed to bolt out into the night.
He went back outside, pulling the door shut and securing it firmly. That was when he heard hoof beats, heavy and approaching fast.
The lantern was on the ground. John left it, moving to the side of the barn, into the shadows where he could see without being seen more easily. Someone was riding up the path to the ranch at a reckless pace and John leveled his gun, his body tense and sweating.
The dog went crazy and began to bark, racing towards the approaching horse and rider. John recognized one of the horses first, then noticed the figure slumped across the animal's back. "Mitchell?"
Cameron nearly slid off the saddle when John approached. In the dim light it took a moment to realize the other man was covered in blood. "Cameron, what happened?"
Cameron grabbed John's arm tightly. He looked close to passing out. "The Wraith. An army. They're headed straight for Atlantis."
*~*~*~*
Elizabeth clutched her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. Her nightgown didn't provide much protection against the chill in the early morning air, yet inside her boots her bare feet were sweating.
The rest of her was trembling. The Wraith were coming. Bryce Ferguson was gone. Cameron Mitchell lay close to death while Carson Beckett worked feverishly to try to save him. Elizabeth stood on the porch of Beckett's office with Stephen Caldwell, Marcus Lorne and John. Kate Lorne and Laura Beckett stood nearby as well. The sound of their voices was bringing other people out of their homes and into the street even though the sun was not yet up.
When John had awakened her by pounding on the back door, he'd scared her nearly to death. For a moment she'd honestly thought he was a ghost. His face was pale and drawn and there was blood all over him. He had been the one to bring Mitchell into town and report what the other man had said about an army of Wraith headed for Atlantis.
"You're sure he said 'army'?" Caldwell asked John for the third time.
"Yes," John snapped, scrubbing a tired hand over his face. "He said an army made up of the Wraith gang was coming here."
She shared a bleak look with Stephen. Mayor Hammond was absent, visiting his daughter. Jack O'Neill, the deputy mayor, and Jonas Quinn were traveling for their duties as the territory's Indian agents. Daniel had taken Mr. Teal'c with him to St. Louis. And Ronon Dex had gone with Janet up to the mining camp two days ago. They would have been dangerously outgunned in any case, but the absence of so many men, including Cameron now, made their position nigh on hopeless.
John seemed well aware of this. He was pacing the short space on the end of the porch restlessly, staring alternately at the horizon and at her. "We could try to run for it," he said quietly.
Caldwell's face darkened further. "If the army is actually an army, odds are they've encircled the town already, or close. A few people might slip through but we'd never be able to get everyone out."
Elizabeth's eyes darted to Kate and Laura. Kate was pregnant, as everyone in town knew. A dangerous flight from the town would be an enormous risk. And incongruously at that moment, considering Kate's condition, it finally struck Elizabeth why Laura had been so sick the last few weeks. The look of fear Laura gave her was enough to confirm it.
Marcus shook his head. "It could be a trap, trying to drive us to do just that, try to run from the town where at least we have some cover and supplies."
John nodded reluctantly.
"What do we do, then?" she asked the three men.
Stephen straightened. "I'm going to summon all my deputies to duty. We'll need to announce this to everyone. People need to prepare."
"We should inventory all the weapons and ammunition we have," Marcus added.
The sheriff nodded. "Everyone will have to combine their resources. There's no other way we'll get through this." He didn't add that the odds of them getting through this were not good either way.
John came to stand alongside of her and Elizabeth felt a momentary relief that he was there. Not out in the wilderness someplace, not out at the ranch, which was far enough from town as to be dangerously exposed.
The next thought struck her hard. "Oh my God! The Athosians!" The Athosian camp was on the outskirts of Atlantis. Totally exposed and vulnerable, they needed to be warned of the imminent threat.
She heard Stephen mutter a curse under his breath. "Someone will have to ride out there and warn them."
All of them turned and looked at John. He stared back in shock for a moment, then his face hardened dangerously. "No. Send someone else."
"John," she put a hand on his arm. "There is no one else." She hardly relished the idea of him racing pell-mell out to the camp and possibly right into the arms of the Wraith, even if he was much stronger than when he'd first been injured. But someone had to go.
"No!" he bellowed, ripping his arm out of her grasp, causing several people who had been creeping closer across the street to jump. "I'm not going anywhere!"
"John, be reasonable-"
"I will not be reasonable, Elizabeth! There is a God-damned Wraith army on the way here! I'm not letting you out of my sight!"
The profanity drew a couple shocked gasps, followed immediately by shouts of alarm, but Elizabeth ignored them. John was shaking and his face was not merely pale but white. She'd seen him look danger and death in the face without flinching before, but right now, he was utterly terrified.
She remembered his nightmares, the way he'd been glued to her side since he woke up from the coma, the clues she had collected about what he'd seen in his dreams. He wasn't afraid for himself, he was afraid for her. So afraid he was willing to let Teyla and her people die instead of leaving her side.
Part of her screamed that she had been right to hesitate about their engagement all this while. If John was acting out of fear from some silly dream, he would certainly get over it.
The other part of her realized she had never once seen John look at her like this, so openly.
She drew him away from the door a little and the beginning of a panic in the rest of the town, leaving Stephen to deal with it. "John, just think about this for a moment. Even in your current state, you're the fastest rider we have."
"Lorne could do it," John growled.
She shook her head. "No. You can't ask him to leave his pregnant wife for this, not when we both know you're the better rider."
He stared at her for a long moment, as though he wanted to argue the point some more. Elizabeth stared right back, hating it but knowing the truth. "John, you have to, and you know it."
He swallowed, shaking his head once as if to say no, but he didn't speak. She looked at him, waiting. He wouldn't abandon Teyla or the Athosians, not even for her. John Sheppard didn't leave people behind.
John abruptly grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her deeply, regardless of their audience. She couldn't help clinging to him and kissing him back, just in case. His forehead rested against hers for a moment. "You be here when I get back, Elizabeth." His voice cracked as he said her name. "Promise me."
"I will. And hurry."
His fingers brushed her cheek lightly and then he turned and hurried to his horse. Elizabeth watched as he mounted, giving her one last, piercing look, before he yelled, snapping the reins and charging down the street as if demons were at his heels.
*~*~*~*
Janet clung to the pommel as the horse struggled down a rough patch of earth on the side of a gulley. Her whole body ached with lack of sleep and stress and hours spent desperately hanging on to the horse and trying to stay silent. Somewhere very close by was a huge swarm of the Wraith gang. Ronon was attempting to slip past them and reach Atlantis.
She could feel the tension in him, and she knew not all of it was the fault of the Wraith. A vicious fight, conducted in whispers a few hours ago, was still hanging between them. Ronon had attempted to force her to go back to the mining camp or up into hiding after he got them away from the patrol that had nearly surprised them under the rocks.
But knowing that the Wraith were planning to strike at Atlantis, there was only one thing to do. She had to go home.
Ronon's opinion of her in that moment had been succinct and incredibly profane, but Janet hadn't backed down.
He stopped the horse and handed her the reins. He leaned close to her ear, the proximity and the warm breath on her neck provoking a reaction in her that she couldn't control. Silently she cursed her body's horrible timing.
"Hold tight to the reins," Ronon said so low she could only just understand the words. "When I tell you, we're going to make a run for it. You have to guide the horse, straight down the gulley and then towards the road."
"What are you going to do?" she whispered. She was confused until she craned her neck and saw him holding a gun in each hand. His rifle was under the saddlebags, loaded and ready.
Ronon's smile was positively wolfish.
*~*~*~*
John rode more on instinct than anything, sending the horse down the path towards the Athosian settlement at a dangerously reckless pace. Every minute was a struggle not to turn back to the town, back to Elizabeth.
A memory, of a lone female figure watching him ride away from Atlantis, haunted his thoughts. The last view of Elizabeth he'd had in that other world or dream or whatever it had been. Nightmare.
He fought down the bile that rose in his throat.
This was different, he told himself firmly. The Wraith were nowhere in sight and therefore Elizabeth wasn't in any material danger yet. He hadn't left her, he'd gone to rescue people - friends - and get them to safety. He would get back to Atlantis in time.
Assuming he could persuade Teyla to bring her people quickly. Except there were dozens of men, women and children who would have to be moved, some on foot, which could take hours...
He dug his heels into the horse's flanks, urging the animal to go even faster.
*~*~*~*
It was afternoon and Elizabeth was cataloging bandages and other supplies alongside Laura in the front room of Carson's office, wishing desperately that Janet was there. Though she knew that her friend was probably safer up at the mining camp than here. And she was with Ronon. If anyone could keep Janet safe and alive through this, it was him.
Carson himself was still hovering over Cameron Mitchell. The bullet in the man's left arm had been removed. The other one had passed clean through his side, which was a small mercy. But Cameron would be in no shape to fight.
There were footsteps outside and Stephen Caldwell peeked in the door. Elizabeth set down the bandage she was rolling and moved out onto the porch. Stephen still looked frazzled, and she could hardly blame him. They both had lost precious time earlier in the morning arguing loudly with Robert Kinsey about the reality of the Wraith threat. After Kinsey made a number of insinuations and spoke outright slanders about John and Cameron both, Stephen had finally snapped. Drawing himself up, he used all the force of his weight and bearing - which was considerable, for Stephen was not a small man by any measure - to glare at Kinsey and bellowed that the man could either help or get the hell out of the way.
It was all she could do not to laugh, or applaud.
Kinsey had finally stalked off, muttering. Stephen's ears had turned red and he apologized for his swearing. It was almost endearing.
"What's our status?" she asked. Other than Kinsey, she was the only member of the Town Council in Atlantis, and since Kinsey was not taking the situation seriously, it fell to her to keep order in the town.
"We've organized the existing ammunition and gunpowder into caches to be placed around the town. We'll get everyone who can shoot a weapon together now, with large groups around Dr. Beckett's office and the jail. We'll gather all the children together in the jail," Stephen reported.
"Why the jail?" she frowned. She would have expected the children to be put in the church.
Stephen scanned the horizon, something everyone in town had been doing restlessly all day despite the presence of lookouts. "It's the only building made of brickwork and stone, rather than wood. It'll be less likely to burn."
Elizabeth's stomach turned over at that. She had eaten a few dry crackers this morning and nothing else, but that wasn't the cause for the nausea.
Stephen stilled, looking out at the southern skyline. The tension in him suddenly became palpable and Elizabeth turned, dread flooding her. It took her several moments to notice anything, but finally she saw a thin cloud near the edge of the horizon. A dust cloud, like that kicked up by horses. By many, many horses.
She whirled the other way, and sure enough to the west was another cloud.
"Oh my God," she whispered. Until that moment, some part of her mind had been futilely hoping that this was all a mistake, or that Cameron was wrong about the numbers involved. But now she knew. This was really happening.
Stephen put a hand on her arm to steady her, but all she could think of was John. There was no sign to the east, and she knew it would take time to muster the entire Athosian camp and move them. But she wanted him back here now. Whatever was going to happen, she didn't want to face it without seeing him again.
There was a cry of alarm, and her heart leapt, but it came from the west, not the east. Everyone turned and Stephen ran towards deputy Bates, who was waving and pointing at something. She followed as fast as she could.
Stephen had taken a spy-glass from Bates and was looking at something. Elizabeth squinted until she spotted movement. A horse, with what looked to be one very large rider, was racing across the open ground towards Atlantis.
Suddenly, in the distant horizon behind the lone rider, something blotted out the earth. It was a mass of men and horses who came up and over a ridge in a great wave. They were chasing, she realized. Chasing the man on the horse, who was somehow firing wildly at them.
"Sir," Bates began but Stephen shook his head before the other man could finish.
"He's too far out yet." Stephen waved to someone and another deputy, a young man named Stackhouse, approached with a rifle. He settled his arms on a barrel and took aim, but Elizabeth knew Stephen was right. The rider and the Wraith were out of range.
They waited in tense silence, watching as the horse approached the city, hooves and dirt flying under the breakneck pace. A knot of Wraith riders were giving chase, but they were behind and falling further.
The rider was close enough now for Elizabeth to recognize Ronon, but something was still wrong with the way he looked on the horse. The men around her sighed in relief and she realized the Wraith who had been chasing him had given up.
The horse didn't slow at all until it reached the road leading into Atlantis, and Elizabeth finally understood what had looked so wrong. Janet Fraiser was perched in front of Ronon. They pulled up alongside the jail and Bates helped Janet climb down. "Elizabeth!"
Elizabeth hugged her friend tightly for a moment. Janet was shaking a little, her hair in disarray, which was no great surprise. "You should have stayed away," she said quietly.
"That's what I told her," Ronon growled, hopping down behind Janet.
The shorter woman glared at him. "I could hardly turn my back on my own town right now. I imagine Carson is laying in supplies?" she asked. "Did anyone go through my office yet? All right, then." Janet steadied herself, smoothing back stray pieces of hair, and marched off towards her house without further discussion, no doubt to collect whatever medical supplies she had and bring them to Carson's.
Stephen turned to Ronon. "How many are there?"
"Not as many as it looks," Ronon said, gulping water from a canteen. "They've got a lot of livestock with them." Stephen's expression grew darker.
"Livestock?" Elizabeth said, confused.
"They'll herd the animals together and stampede them towards the town. We'll have to waste ammunition and energy repelling the stock and that will open the way for the men."
A morbid silence fell on the group and they looked out at the mass of men to the west.
"Why have they stopped?" Stackhouse wondered.
"Waiting for the others to catch up," Bates replied.
"More than that. They'll probably wait until nightfall to attack," Ronon said, staring coldly at the bandits he had just outrun. "Let everyone in town see themselves surrounded and work up into a good panic before they lift a finger." He spat on the ground. Stephen looked at Elizabeth for a moment with concern, as if he feared how she was handling this news.
She steeled herself. So much about this was too horrible to contemplate, so she wasn't going to. "There has to be something we can do to even the odds," she said firmly.
"There is," a voice said behind her. She turned to find Rodney McKay standing there, with Radek Zelenka hovering behind him. "I have an idea of how we can-"
Even now, Radek interrupted with a tiny glare. "We have an idea."
"Yes, yes, but it was really my mentioning of a moat that started it-"
Elizabeth rubbed her forehead, trying not to yell. "Gentlemen!"
The two looked at her sheepishly for a moment and Rodney cleared his throat. "As I was saying, we have an idea for increasing the protection around the town. The fire break," he added hastily as Stephen made a restless movement.
A few years earlier, after a dangerous prairie fire had damaged several buildings, Rodney had suggested digging a large trench around the circumference of the town. It acted as a break for any fires approaching Atlantis, although it had never been tested by a real prairie fire. Mostly it turned muddy in spring and fall and attracted bugs.
Elizabeth wasn't the only one confused, clearly. "Where are you going to get the water?" Stephen asked.
"What water?"
"You mentioned a moat-" Bates put in.
"No, no, that was where we got the idea, but there's not nearly enough water in the town for that, plus they'd just jump over it and we'd all die of dehydration..."
"McKay!" Ronon bellowed, saving Stephen and Elizabeth the trouble.
Rodney swallowed. "Fire."
"What?"
"We use the dynamite left over from the mining company supplies," Rodney glanced at Elizabeth. She did in fact have a crate of the dangerous stuff out in a supply shed behind the store, kept at a safe distance from the buildings. "We can ignite the grass outside the break when the Wraith attack starts, help drive them back."
"Won't that kill anyone too close to the dynamite? And won't the Wraith just pick off anyone who goes outside the town?" Bates asked.
"But if they do not see it happening, we could get people into the trench and use gunpowder as a sort of remote detonator," Radek said.
"Yes, ignite the gunpowder which sets off the dynamite which sets the grass on fire..." Rodney waved a hand in the air.
Elizabeth turned to Stephen and Ronon. She was well out of her depth here, but to her at least it sounded like a good idea. Not to mention they had very few other ideas of any kind anyway.
"We could concentrate their approach," Ronon said, glancing out at the horses milling distantly on the horizon. "Make them aim only for the roads, keep the animals from getting into the town and causing problems."
"The grass fire won't last very long, though," Bates said glumly.
"I'm sure we could come up with something that would burn longer," Rodney said, glancing at his partner.
"The problem is how to get this all in place without the Wraith seeing it. They'll charge us if they figure out what we're up to," Stephen said, folding his arms.
There was a short pause, until Rodney began to snap his fingers. "I've got an idea," he said breathlessly.
*~*~*~*
John's one small piece of good fortune had been that Teyla already had her people up and packing when he came in sight. He didn't stop to ask how she knew, but threw himself into hurrying the Athosians' progress. They were people accustomed to picking up and moving, but this required more speed and sacrifice of possessions than they were used to. It took too long to assemble them all, and Teyla would not move forward until everyone was more or less ready.
John bit his tongue until it bled from impatience.
Even at their best speed, it still took hours to get them all in sight of Atlantis. The afternoon sun was slanting down on the town by the time they were nearly there. Meanwhile behind them on the horizon, a cloud had risen. Wraith soldiers, closing in fast.
That had an effect on the speed of the enterprise. Fear pushed many into running and John made no attempt to stop them. He wanted to break away and hurry into the town, but he forced himself to linger near the back with Teyla, chiding the stragglers and keeping a wary eye on the horizon. When he was starting to make out the forms of horses and riders, the last of the Athosians were within rifle range of Atlantis. He let out a sigh of relief.
The town had been encircled with wagons and carriages, laden with straw. They formed a protective ring around the entire town, leaving only two roads open on either end. The roads were barricaded with more hay bales. It was a start, although John wasn't sure how effective a deterrent they would be to a stampede, even when set on fire.
Teyla and two of Caldwell's deputies were herding the Athosians in various directions, giving them tasks to do once they had settled themselves. John didn't see Elizabeth anywhere, but in scanning the streets he spotted an unexpected face.
"Ronon!"
The tall man crossed the ground in a couple strides and they clapped arms and embraced. "You should've stayed away," John said.
Ronon grinned in that slightly scary way he had. "You knew I wouldn't miss this."
John chuckled a little. "Miss Fraiser all right?" Ronon's face went dark and he glared in the direction of Beckett's offices. "You brought her back here?" John said incredulously.
"Wasn't my idea!" Ronon shot back.
Knowing Janet as he did, John wasn't that surprised, really. He decided to set the subject aside. "Have you seen Miss Weir?"
"She's helping McKay with something," Ronon said.
That took him aback for a moment, as he couldn't imagine what Elizabeth could possibly be doing to help the scientist, but given the situation, anything was possible. He nodded and turned away, intent on locating Rodney. It wasn't too hard. The other man was standing near the jail with Caldwell, Bates and Marcus Lorne. "McKay!"
It was Caldwell who greeted him. "Sheppard. Good to have you back in one piece." John didn't fool himself about the welcome. The sheriff knew they needed every able body and gun if they were going to live through this.
"Yes, with the Athosians to help we might be able to-"
John interrupted Rodney. "Where's Miss Weir?"
"Oh," Rodney swallowed. He looked anxious and the relief John had felt about getting back to Atlantis bled away.
"Ronon said she was helping you with something." No answer. "Rodney, where's Elizabeth?"
The other man looked close to panicking. "She's... not here right now."
For a split second John's heart seized, picturing Elizabeth on horseback somewhere out there in the hills, but that was ridiculous. Caldwell would never let her leave. He took a step closer to Rodney, anxiety making him glare. "Where is she?"
Caldwell put a hand on John's chest, trying to back him off. John slapped it away. Real fear was simmering in him now. They were afraid to tell him something, and John felt his self-control slipping away. "Where is Elizabeth?" he yelled.
"She's fine, Sheppard. She's just not here-" Caldwell started.
Before he really thought about what he was doing, John drew his gun and pointed it at Caldwell.
"John!" Ronon was suddenly next to him, and around them everything got very quiet.
"Look, this is crazy, she's perfectly safe, just calm down!" Rodney sputtered. John ignored him.
"Tell me where she is," he growled, staring Caldwell in the eye.
*~*~*~*
Part 4