As the team entered the muddy town, a young boy ran right up to Colonel John Sheppard, stopping the tall soldier in his tracks. The boy grinned and placed his hands on his hips.
"You new to this world? You here for trade?" He asked. He glanced at the other members of John's team before turning his attention back to the man who was clearly in charge.
"Yes. Trade, exploration, friendship,…" John quipped. He began walking again toward the small village. He could just barely make out the roofs of wooden buildings on the outer edge of town. The boy walked backward a few steps, watching the new visitors with keen interest.
"Explorers, eh? You exploring our town then? I can help you with that, if you're interested." The boy turned around and began to walk toward the main part of town. He'd gotten about ten feet ahead of the Atlanteans and then turned back with a smirk to see if they were following him. Sheppard laughed and followed the boy.
"Lead the way, uh….what's your name?" he said.
"Tannereklevin."
"Tann-what?"
"Tannereklevin. Most of my friends call me Tannerek, though."
"Okay, Tannerek. My name's John; this is Teyla, Rodney, and Ronon," John waved at the other members of his team as he said their names. Tannerek nodded, sizing them all up in turn.
"Where are you people from? Far? What are you looking for in trade? I know a lot of people around here." The boy rambled on as the team walked into the main part of town. The road was muddy and shops made of crumbling stone were crammed into each other along each side. Small groups of people in drab clothing moved from shop to shop in clumps. A few stared at Sheppard and his team, but most people ignored them and went about their own business.
"Do you need gifts?" The boy asked.
"Gifts?" McKay repeated.
"To give people," the boy responded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Sheppard cleared his throat to stop himself from laughing.
"Uh, no, we don't need gifts. Actually, we'd like to speak to the leader of your town."
"The head councilor? What do you want to speak to him about?"
"Trade, for food," Teyla interjected.
"Lots of food," John added.
"Right," Tannerek answered. "This way." The boy jogged on ahead leading the Atlantis team to a large stone building that looked a little less rundown than the shops around it. Tannerek pointed to the large wooden doors.
"In there. Think they might be in a council meeting or something. I could show you around if you want, take you to a few shops, introduce you to a few people."
"Um, thank you, Tannerek. I think we'll talk to the head councilman first. Maybe later."
"Right, later." Tannerek said, but he couldn't help the disappointment in his voice. "If you change your mind, I'll be around. Just ask for me!" He called out, then turned with a wave and jogged down the busy market street.
John grinned. As he turned back toward the wooden door of the council building, he couldn't help but notice the smiles on the faces of his teammates.
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Three hours later, the smiles were long gone. The team sat around the small table in the back of the village's small restaurant. John looked over at Rodney McKay scarfing his third plate of food, some kind of mashed potatoes.
"Well, if they ever get out of their council meeting, at least we know McKay likes the food," John said.
Ronon and Teyla smirked when Rodney began sputtering on the food.
"Hello, hypoglycemic."
"I think you're safe from any attacks in the near future. Actually, you're probably safe for the next week given the amount of food you've eaten since we showed up here."
"I assume this means they have plenty of food to trade with us as well," Ronon piped up.
"Oh, ha ha ha. You're all very funny. What's taking those councilmen so long anyway? Like I want to sit in this dirty restaurant, eating off plates that have probably never been washed, rats running around in the back—"
"Rodney!" Teyla said, appalled.
"I think I'm done eating now. I can't believe I ate that much. I feel a little sick. Do I look sick? Food poisoning, I should have thought of food poisoning. Hey, where are you going?" Rodney asked as John got up from the table.
"I'm going to go check on the council, see if we can get an idea of how much longer we're going to have to wait," John replied as he stretched his lower back.
"You want me to come?" Ronon asked.
"No, you guys stay here. I'm sure they'll just tell me the same thing they've told me the last three times." John headed toward the front door, stepping back to let a group of loud, slightly drunk men stumble out in front of him. He stepped out into the cool night air, breathing deep. The restaurant was nice enough, but the fresh air felt good. Darkness had fallen fast with the overcast skies and threat of rain. The mud in the street still seemed a little dry, and John hoped the rain would hold until they either made it back to Atlantis, or holed up in this world's version of a hotel for the night.
He stepped out into the street and headed toward the council building that was roughly a half a mile down the street from the restaurant. As quiet as the little town seemed, John had the sudden sensation that he was being watched and followed. He glanced quickly at the restaurant behind him and noticed that the group of drunk men that had left the place right before him were gone. The street was suddenly very quiet.
John stopped, intending to return back to the safety of the restaurant. He had taken only two steps when he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He brought his arm up instinctively, but he was too late. Suddenly, there were hands all over his arms and body dragging him into a dark, narrow alleyway running between two shops. He lashed out, managing to free one arm, but he was quickly pinned by more hands.
John bucked and kicked and his attackers rewarded his efforts with violence of their own. The hands that had been grabbing him were suddenly pummeling him from every side. He was vaguely aware that his 9-mil and P-90 had been stripped from him, as well as the knife he kept strapped to his belt, but the fists continued to pound against him. He felt a sharp crack in his chest. He heard himself screaming, and then suddenly the scream was cut off as something connected with the side of his face and his head exploded in pain.
Amazingly, John was still conscious when his attackers finally dropped him to the ground and ran away. He lay in the semi-dry mud, knowing he needed to find his team and get help, but unable to move. Every breath, every movement sent spikes of pain shooting through his entire body, and he felt his grip on consciousness slipping away. A hand rested lightly on his shoulder and John jerked back into consciousness quickly. He groaned, unable to open his eyes.
"Hey, mister? John?"
Through the haze, John recognized the young boy's voice but couldn't figure out how he knew him.
"Are you awake? It's me, Tannerek."
John tried to respond, to ask for help, but no sound came out.
"I'll get help. You'll be all right. I'll be back fast, John."
The hand on his shoulder was suddenly gone, and John felt himself panicking. He cried out for Tannerek, worrying his attackers would return, but the waves of pain made him choke, causing him to cough and setting his head and chest on fire.
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Ronon sat in the corner of the restaurant, intently watching everyone who came in and out. He felt tense, but couldn't pinpoint what was causing the feeling. The people scattered at the tables throughout the room seemed mostly oblivious to the three strangers sitting in the corner. Most looked like they were simply enjoying their meal. A few appeared to be transacting some business or another.
"What's taking Sheppard so long?" Ronon finally asked, turning toward his teammates.
"He's been gone for like five minutes," Rodney answered.
"It has been closer to ten minutes. He should be back in another few minutes," Teyla added.
"Something's not right," Ronon grumbled.
"What do you mean?" Rodney immediately began looking around the room for some hitherto unnoticed danger.
"I don't know. Something's wrong."
"Hmm. That's articulate. Well, Ronon, thank you for sharing. If you decide to be more specific at any point in the near future, we'll be sitting right here."
"Eating more food, probably," Ronon grinned, trying to shake the feeling of unease.
"You are all just so hilarious this evening."
Teyla smiled, but Ronon admitting to feeling uneasy had set her own nerves on edge. She looked up warily as the door of the restaurant flew open. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when she saw it was just the young, precocious boy they had encountered earlier that day. She watched the boy frantically scanning the tables. When his eyes finally connected with her own, she felt her heart thud in her chest.
His face was one of pure panic. As soon as he spotted the three visitors from Atlantis, he made a beeline for their table. Ronon had noticed the boy's expression, which seemed to answer his own questions about his unknown anxiety. Even Rodney grew suddenly quiet.
"Please, hurry. You're friend—John—he is hurt," the boy gasped, and Teyla realized he had been running.
"Where is he?" Teyla asked, jumping up and following the boy out of the restaurant. Ronon and Rodney followed closely behind. They ran out of the restaurant into the quiet night. The air felt heavy, reminding her of the nights on Athos during the rainy spring season.
"This way," Tannerek said, and began running down the street. The lighter stone of the council building was a little brighter than the surrounding buildings, the light spilling from nearby buildings reflecting off the white stone. Teyla scanned the street between the restaurant and the council building, but saw no sign of John anywhere.
Suddenly, a gun shot rang out, echoing through the empty streets. It seemed to have originated from the opposite direction they were heading. They all froze and frantically scanned the street for signs of weapons fire. Tannerek turned back toward them.
"Over here, please. Hurry!" He called.
Another gunshot went off, this time followed by a few screams and whoops of excitement. Rodney's eyes grew round.
"That sounded like a 9-mil," he said.
Ronon and Teyla nodded. They turned away from Tannerek intent on finding the source of the weapons fire, but quickly felt a small hand on each of their arms pulling them in the direction of the council building.
"John is this way. They left him over here," Tannerek begged. He let go of their arms and ran down the street, no longer worrying if they followed him.
The three teammates did follow him. They had almost caught up with him when the boy suddenly stopped and darted into a small alley. Ronon veered quickly, and even Rodney barely slowed down as they dove down the alley in pursuit. Teyla had only gone a few steps before she saw all three of them kneeling around something. She stepped closer and gasped.
"John!" She ran over, kneeling by his head. She watched in trepidation as Ronon checked for a pulse.
"Got a pulse. Fast, though."
John shifted slightly under Ronon's touch, groaning. Teyla leaned down, her hand resting lightly on his head.
"John? It is Teyla. Can you hear me?"
In the weak light, she could barely make out the flutter of his eyes as he struggled to come awake. Two more gunshots went off in quick succession, and Ronon and Rodney both jumped up. They sounded further away than the first two shots, but Ronon moved to the edge of the alley and peered into the street.
"Do you see anyone?" Rodney asked.
"Nothing."
"What happened here, Tannerek?" Teyla asked. John continued to moan but had yet to become completely conscious.
"He was jumped. Some men dragged him over here, took his stuff. He tried to fight them off, so they beat him pretty good."
Teyla nodded, squeezing the young boy's arm. Tannerek suddenly looked a lot less confident as the reality of what he had witnessed began to sink in.
"Do you live far from here, Tannerek?" Teyla asked.
"No," he answered in a wavering voice. "Just on the other side of the council building."
"You should go home, where it is safe. I do not think you should be out in the streets tonight."
The boy nodded and stood up. Ronon stepped toward him.
"Do you want me to walk you home?" He asked.
"No, thank you, sir. It's not far."
"Thank you, Tannerek, for helping John and getting us," Rodney added as the boy stepped into the street. Tannerek didn't answer, but he waved at the three worried people in the alley before turning around and running all the way home.
"How is he?" Rodney asked. He watched nervously as Teyla bent over John and checked for injuries.
"The bruising on his face is extensive and his right arm appears to broken." As she moved her hands gently across his chest, feeling his ribs, John let out a small whimper. "I believe he has injured his ribs as well."
"Great. That's just great. Maybe one of us should go back to the gate and get help. He needs Carson." Another gunshot rang out, causing Rodney to flinch.
"Whoever took his weapons seems to be moving away from us and the stargate, but I do not think it would be wise for any of us to walk these streets alone."
"I agree with Teyla," Ronon piped up. "I say we all go to Atlantis right now."
"What are we waiting for then? Oh, yeah. Sheppard's unconscious in the mud because he just had the living sh—"
John groaned louder this time cutting Rodney off before the scientist could launch into a full rant. Teyla tapped the side of his cheek, carefully avoiding any of the emerging bruises.
"John?"
"..'Ey-la.." His voice was so quiet that Teyla had to lean forward to hear him.
"Yes, John, it is I. Your attackers are gone but we need to get you back to Atlantis. Can you move?"
John opened his eyes to look up at Teyla's concerned face. He nodded once and tried to sit up. Teyla gripped him under the shoulders and helped him sit up against the side of the building.
John gasped at the pain that ripped through his arm and chest at the movement, then gasped, cried, and whimpered at the pain his initial gasp caused in his face and head.
"John? What is it? What hurts?" Teyla's voice sounded panic, but distant compared to the pain racking his body. John tried desperately to bring his breathing under control.
"Sheppard?" Ronon's voice suddenly cut through the daze.
"..'Urrr…ts," he mumbled, his face creasing in pain as he tried to talk.
"Can you make it to the gate, or should we bring back help?"
Rather than answer Ronon's question, John grabbed at Teyla's arm and attempted to pull himself up with his good arm. Taking this to mean John intended to make it to the gate himself, Teyla and Ronon gently reached underneath him and helped him stand up.
John swayed precariously, and Teyla and Ronon both tightened their hold on their team leader. John's face had paled, and he felt beads of sweat breaking out across his forehead. Cautiously, the team made their way slowly down the empty streets to the edge of the village.
As soon as Rodney saw the stargate, he dashed ahead and began dialing Atlantis. He glanced behind him, amazed that John was still on his feet. Sheppard hadn't spoken a word during the whole walk back, all of his energy focused on staying conscious and putting one step in front of the other.
"Atlantis, this is McKay. Drop the shield. We have a medical emergency."
"Understood," Elizabeth Weir's voice sounded strong and clear through the radio. "You're clear to come through. What happened Rodney?"
"Sheppard was attacked by some drunks. They beat the crap out of him. We'll be home in a minute." Rodney turned back to his teammates without waiting for a response from Elizabeth. Satisfied that they would be following right behind him, he stepped through the wormhole.
Elizabeth Weir watched the event horizon for the first sign of Atlantis's flagship team, worry twisting in her gut. Attacked by drunks? Rodney hadn't been very specific on the extent of John's injuries. She felt Carson Beckett tense next to her. He had been in the control room when Rodney's urgent request came through.
The event horizon rippled and the scientist in question stepped through. He walked forward a few steps before turning around and looking for the rest of his team. Carson darted down the steps just as Ronon and Teyla stepped out of the wormhole, supporting a very battered and barely conscious John Sheppard between them.
Carson wasted no time. He ran forward and helped the two ease the injured man to the ground. A medical team had arrived by that time, and he waved them over. Ronon and Teyla stepped back as medical personnel swarmed around the colonel. In a matter of minutes, they had him moved to a gurney and whisked away. Ronon, Teyla, Rodney, and Elizabeth followed silently. As they neared the infirmary doors, Carson suddenly turned and held up his hands.
"You'll have to wait here. I'll let you know how he is as soon as I can." Without another word, he disappeared into the infirmary leaving his four apprehensive friends behind.
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Teyla walked into the infirmary quietly, nodding at one of the nurses. It was late—or rather, it was very, very early, and Teyla rubbed her eyes in exhaustion. She had managed to sleep a few hours after Carson had come out and told them John would recover, but she had woken up in the middle of the night with the urge to check on him, to see him one more time and convince herself he really was going to be okay. She rounded the corner toward John's bed and slowed her steps, suddenly fearful of what she would find.
She forced herself to continue on, and breathed a sigh of relief when she finally reached him. He looked horrible—his face was bruised and battered and swollen on the right side where one of his attackers had taken a particularly vicious swipe at him. He was propped up slightly in the bed, his cracked ribs wrapped and his arm encased in a cast and resting lightly across his chest. He was also "drugged to the gills on pain meds," as Rodney had so aptly put it earlier.
But he was breathing. Of that, there was no doubt. Teyla sat down in the chair next to his bed and watched the soft rise and fall of his chest as he slept. He did not stir as she scooted closer toward him and gripped his hand.
"Hey," someone whispered, and Teyla looked up to see Ronon and Rodney walk up to John's bed.
"How is he?" Rodney asked quietly.
"He is fine," she answered. The two men continued to stare at her. "I could not sleep and thought I would sit with him for a little while. He should not awaken alone."
Ronon nodded his head.
"We couldn't sleep, either," he said, continuing to stare at John. Rodney disappeared for a moment, only to reappear a few seconds later with a couple of folding chairs. He handed one to Ronon, then planted himself on John's other side.
"He looks like crap," Rodney said. Ronon and Teyla both frowned at him.
"I'm not saying it's his fault he looks like crap. I'm just saying, 'He looks like crap.' Simple, straightforward statement of fact. Don't get all uptight on me."
"Rodney, he was badly beaten. He will not look well for many days."
"Yeah, yeah. I know," Rodney mumbled staring at the bruises on John's face. "He's not going to be too happy when he wakes up and discovers those mugging freaks broke his jaw. I'm mean, I could deal with broken ribs and a broken arm," he rambled, purposefully ignoring Ronon's sudden snort and Teyla's raised eyebrows, "but having your mouth wired shut for a few weeks? He won't be able to talk, or eat solids, or—"
"He won't be able to talk?" Ronon asked, leaning forward and looking more intently at Rodney.
"Did I not just say that? Are we deaf? No, he won't be able talk. His jaw his wired shut."
"Wired shut?" Ronon repeated.
"What are you, a broken record? Yes, wired shut. That's—" Rodney turned to scowl at Ronon and suddenly noticed the look on the Satedan's face. "Why are you suddenly interested in this?" Rodney rubbed absently at the side of his jaw, not liking the gleam in Ronon's eye.
"No reason," Ronon replied, but his grin grew wider.
"Ha! No reason. Like I believe that. I'll have you know—"
"Ssshhh! I do not think Dr. Beckett would be pleased with us if we woke John up in the middle of the night," Teyla reprimanded, and turned her attention back to the man in the bed. The other two grew quiet as John moaned and stirred in his bed. He settled quickly back to sleep, but his slight movement was enough to end Ronon and Rodney's discussion. The three sat back in their chairs, watching both each other and John in silence for the rest of the night.
The next morning, Dr. Beckett walked into the infirmary to find all three of them sprawled out asleep on plastic chairs, surrounding their team leader.