Notes: Written for the sheppard_hc challenge for kristen999, who wanted to see someone else make a split-second decision with John's fate hanging in the balance, emotional healing, and an emphasis on comfort and recovery. This story is complete, but will be posted in parts.
All The King's Men
When Teyla's jaw gritted as she limped over to roll John over in the mud, Ronon saw the truth of their situation immediately.
They weren't going to make it back to the gate.
Beneath the bronze of her skin, Teyla was already looking pale, but her expression was clear enough, even in the wreathing mist and the steady grey splatter of the downpour that had hidden their tracks so far. "We can find a place to hide," she began.
"And if they find us?" Ronon demanded.
"Then we will fight." She sounded cool enough, but Ronon knew her. He could hear the pain bleeding through her voice. She'd done her ankle good, and if Sheppard had been a burden before, he was a liability now.
"No."
"Ronon."
"They'll kill you."
"We do not leave our people behind!"
"We don't let our people be killed either!" Ronon growled, shifting uncomfortably. He disliked arguing with Teyla, who usually could be rational when needed. He disliked it all the more right now because he was in the midst of a downpour with two unconscious liabilities and one injured liability, the rain was dribbling down his scalp and under the collar of his shirt as well as off his dreads, and they were on the run from a people who wanted them captured and dead.
Plus, Rodney was much heavier than he claimed he was.
"That is not certain."
He muttered an oath at his team-mate's willful blindness. "You didn't see her face during the dinner," he growled. "She wants Sheppard, and she'll kill you to have him."
"I am not what stands in her way."
"You are." Ronon said bluntly. He'd seen jealousy in the faces of enough men and women to recognise it. He knew murderous intent when he saw it, too, even behind the guise of a smile and a welcome. "You're a woman with influence over him; that's all the excuse she'd need."
Of course that would only be after the men had their time at Teyla. If Sheppard had value enough to be kept alive and treated well in the hope that someday he might come around, Teyla didn't. She'd be used as the example; the reminder of the power they had over Sheppard, over Ronon, over McKay. Watch while we take her from you.
Ronon would stun her, dump McKay and take her back before he let her be captured.
He saw her look back along the path they'd come, her expression torn. He knew how she felt - like someone was slicing her guts open with a knife just sharp enough to cut skin, but dull enough to hurt like seventeen kinds of Wraith-feeding. But this wasn't about them all being taken prisoner, maybe being taken care of, being handed over to the Wraith, or possibly bartered for some concession from Atlantis - this was about them being taken prisoner and watching Teyla die.
Ronon wouldn't sacrifice Teyla for Sheppard. And he was pretty skantath certain that Sheppard wouldn't sacrifice Teyla for a useless stand.
Runners picked their battles, and fought with the most effective weapons they had to hand.
And Ronon had a gambit he'd been keeping in reserve if she proved stubborn.
"Teyla." He took one more step towards her. "Think of Torran."
The shot hit her square. Her expression twisted. "That is not fair."
"Life isn't," he said. "Sheppard's got the implant and they want him alive. We can hunt him down and find him, but we have to get moving now."
Whatever lead they had, it had slimmed down, and Ronon was not fool enough to think that the chase had stopped. They wanted Sheppard, and they had trackers.
Teyla knew this, too. She looked down at Sheppard, and her fingers swept his hair back from his forehead. Then she pulled all his weaponry from his holsters, his PDA from his vest, and his earpiece, and stood.
"All right," she said. "Let's go. But we will come back for him."
"Of course." Ronon glanced back at their unconscious team leader and silently apologised. He hoped Sheppard would understand when he woke up; he thought the other man would.
Less than an hour later, mobilised and fully armed, a squadron full of marines returned to the planet, following the implant signal across the woody terrain.
But when they reached the location of the signal, all they found was a pile of sodden clothes, neatly - almost mockingly - folded, his dogtags on top, and, beside the tags, the implant, bloody from where it had been dug from Sheppard's flesh.
A full scan of the planet found no sign of him or his captors; pulling the last-dialled addresses from the DHD got them fifty addresses that led nowhere useful; and all the gossip in Pegasus never returned even a hint of Colonel Sheppard's whereabouts.
Sheppard was gone.
--
His universe was pain.
The long, sliver slashes of it bit deep into his body, aching all the way down to the bone. His thoughts bled scarlet with the agony, a waxy softening of the hard edges that made him up.
They carved him up, like a Thanksgiving turkey. Disjointed his thoughts, dismembered his body, dissolved his surroundings.
He hung in infinite space, spreadeagled on the sacrificial altar, with an impenetrable nutshell clutched in his hands, too small for him to fit into. Salt dripped past his lips, the sweat of his brow tracing delicate droplets down his skin. And amidst the silent screams and panting shame, he clung to one thought.
There was a reason they didn't come.
Why?
Somewhere, amidst the pain that might-might not be there, he remembered a long, cold tunnel, and a long, cold knife digging into his feverish flesh. Before that, there'd been someone under his arm, small and warm, now gone.
Why?
Silver blades cut into him, pristine, sterile, and he bled and wept and screamed. His arms were torn from their sockets, his legs broken and shattered, everything was nerves and senses, an overload of pain.
He no longer knew where pain-that-was began and where pain-that-wasn't ended.
Was there a difference between the two? He didn't know that, either.
Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated.
Why?
Amidst the breathless universe of screaming pain, he didn't remember.
- TBC -