The Essence of Trust by decechat
Summary: A trading mission turns into a nightmare as Sheppard, Ronan, and Rodney are forced to watch one man's revenge on Carson.
Rated: PG-13 for violence and possible language.
Season/Spoilers: Sometime in Season 2; no known spoilers.
Disclaimer: Neither Atlantis nor any of her characters belong to me in any way, shape, or form.
Chapter One:
Never before in his life had he ever felt so completely and utterly helpless. As a soldier he had been trained to always fight back, to never give in, and to always hope. However, those years of training were beginning to falter as each hour passed. It was supposed to have been a quick and easy mission; trading Beckett's medical services and McKay's technological abilities for all the food they would need for a year. McKay would fix their downed generator while Beckett was to treat the wounded in the village; a couple of hours, tops. But it hadn't turned out as planned. After having seen their oldest member treated and feeling better, the villagers had pressed the team to stay for a festival; a night of grand partying. He had objected of course, but they had insisted; almost dragging him to a table. Thinking back now, that had been his first mistake. They had all eaten their share, laughing and chatting with the grateful group of people who had praised them again and again for their help. It was a wonder that Rodney's head hadn't exploded right then and there.
It wasn't until Rodney suddenly passed out that Sheppard had begun to worry. It was here that he had made his second mistake; he had stood up too quickly. The feeling of being drugged hit him full force, and as he started to fall he noticed Ronan dizzily swinging his fist at the nearest face before falling beside Beckett.
The next thing he had remembered had been waking, chained to the wall with a gag in his mouth. He had looked around and found Rodney and Ronan in much the same predicament as himself. He had looked into their eyes and had tried to convey a message of hope and encouragement. Ronan had looked at him nonchalantly, his face a mask of calm and composure. Actually he had expected no less of the large man. Years of being chased by the wraith had left the man strong willed and resolute. It was Rodney's eyes that had scared him. The blue orbs that had looked back at him had been filled with complete and utter terror. He had tried to calm the scientist with slow, deliberate blinks, but had been interrupted by the opening of a door. He had immediately recognized their host as he had walked deliberately over to them. The man had merely looked at the three forms and spoken quietly to them. "My name is Lagos. I am sure you wish to know the reason for this betrayal of your confidence; and I will tell you." The man, dressed in an ornately rich and flowing outfit, had turned and put his hand on the single piece of furniture, a table. He had turned quickly and glared at John and the others. "My wife, Calde, was among the first of those injected with the wraith drug on Hoff. She suffered for many days as I watched, helpless to do anything. In fact, she died here on this very table," he had said, lovinginly stroking the cold stone before starting to pace. He had stopped in front of Ronan and growled, "I have since learned that it was Doctor Carson Beckett who developed the drug. Needless to say, his research was incomplete. How dare he create a drug that would kill innocent people like Calde."
John could see that the man's agitation had been growing, but was surprised at how quickly he had seen the man go from insanely upset to frighteningly calm. "Therefore, I have decided that as payment, Dr. Beckett shall feel the pain that he has caused so many. He will be exposed to a new form of 'therapy' shall we say. It is brand new, created by me, and completely untested. It is called sensory overload, and you will all get to see its effects, just as I watched the effects of this doctor's experimental drug on my wife." John had watched quizzically as the man had motioned to the door and the physician he knew so well had been dragged inside and placed on a table in the middle of the room. Sheppard had watched as two men had secured Carson's hands and feet in restraints before slipping a blindfold over the unconscious man's eyes. He had followed the retreat of both Lagos and the men before he had shifted his gaze back to the man on the table.
He had watched Carson slowly wake and try to take in his surroundings, pulling lightly on his restraints and moaning. Unable to move, Beckett had begun to call lightly for those who had previously been with him. Sheppard could do nothing as he listened to Carson's calls for himself and the others of his team. He had finally stopped his unanswered calls several minutes later before falling back unconscious. For John the inability to answer his friend caused a feeling of helplessness to begin to grow.
Carson woke to a buzzing head, dry mouth and darkness. He felt the rough cloth that was around his face and reached his hand up to remove it, only to discover that he couldn't move his arms…or his legs. Och, what's this now, he thought. "Colonel?", "Ronan?", "Rodney?" "This is nah bloody funny" he said aloud, trying to quell the fear that was beginning to spike in his chest. "Colonel, please answer me." Receiving no answer he began to feel fear awake within him. Alrigh' Carson, don' panic, he thought to himself, trying to calm his wild imagination before it got too far.
He made himself focus and tried to think back to his last memory before waking up here. The last thing he could recall was seeing Rodney fall to the floor and feeling a hand on his neck. After that it had turned black. Remembering Rodney falling made him mumble out loud, "Rodney, I don' know if ye can hear me or nah lad, but if ye can, try to rest as much as possible." Actually, resting sounds really good ta me right now...his thoughts became hazy and he slowly left consciousness behind.