Leave No Man Behind
Jaya Mitai
Disclaimer – Don't own Stargate Atlantis. Or SG-1. Or Universe. Really, I don't own much of anything. Making no money. Please don't sue.
Set somewhere in Seasons 3-4. Spoilers for The Defiant One (season 1) and Rising, The Intruder, and Phantoms, which are Seasons 2-3. This is a present for a friend I hadn't seen in quite some time. Here you go, beautiful!
- x -
Sheppard locked eyes with McKay. Easy. Just play it cool. We'll get you out of this.
"Drop it. You got nowhere to go."
Dr. Rodney McKay didn't even glance towards Ronon, his expression a confliction of terror, annoyance, and embarrassment. If his eyes said anything, it was along the lines of Dammit, not again with the lunatics, yes I know I should have practiced more at the range, please don't let him break the thing!
The thing was in no danger of being broken, there in the sand where Rodney had dropped it, and Teyla eased around it, P90 steady. "Release him unharmed and you may leave. We will not stop you."
They had them – the soldier and McKay – pinned in a neat triangle, with no way of maneuvering a clumsy and hesitant hostage through the rough-hewn stone archway without leaving an opening. There was a bulge in the right hip pouch of the soldier's uniform belt – probably a grenade – but otherwise, he was armed only with the pistol that was pressed to the back of McKay's head, just behind his left ear.
One lone Genii. And unless he was mistaken . . . "That magazine only holds twelve, maybe fifteen rounds." Sheppard curled his finger into the trigger cage of his own weapon. "How many shots do you think you have left?"
The soldier didn't sneer, as he'd hoped. Nor did he seem to be oblivious to his position. He made no attempt to wrestle McKay towards the exit, he simply made himself as small a target as possible against the narrow decorative niche.
"You should know, Sheppard of Atlantis," the soldier said quietly. "I'm sure you've been counting. And I know you've killed enough to know that it only takes one." McKay grimaced and twitched his head to the right, obviously responding to pressure.
"And then what?" Teyla's lips were pressed in a thin line. She couldn't get a better angle, despite her comparative lack of height. McKay was a little wider than some, and it was difficult to tell in the standard issue jacket just where the material ended and Rodney began. "If you kill him, do you believe we will let you walk away?"
No smile. This was not an officer. He knew who they were, sure, but this wasn't revenge for what had happened to Kolya's team either. And it was very unlikely there was but a single Genii in the ruins, certainly not after the racket they'd made.
He knew he was dead, and he was hedging for time.
"I won't kill him," the Genii admitted, his voice steady. "He's your scientist, isn't he. Not a soldier."
Ronon caught his eye from across the room, and John gave the Genii a dry smile. Definitely stalling. "Is this a new policy? No killing civilians?"
"Not when I can get all four of you with the same bullet."
John never took his eyes off McKay. "Ronon."
The big Satedan flicked the settings on his pistol, from stun to something a little more serious, and without waiting for a reply from the Genii, sent a crimson bolt of energy singing past McKay's right ear to impact the carved shell behind them.
The decoration shattered, no more than thin limestone mounted on something much more solid, and both the Genii and McKay flinched from the shrapnel. McKay dropped, exactly like he'd been taught, and John calmly put two slugs into the left shoulder – the gun arm - of the soldier holding him.
Only the soldier had dropped with McKay, anticipating the move, and they ended up sprawled together against the blood-stained wall, with Rodney awkwardly struggling to lean forward enough to roll away, and the Genii's right hand still tangled in the back of his jacket. Ronon followed up with a stun blast that echoed like a gunshot in the small temple chamber.
Rodney slumped back against the unconscious Genii, eyes wide, and Sheppard swore, halving the distance between them before Teyla beat him there. The trinket, whatever Ancient thing Rodney just couldn't make himself leave behind, was kicked against the arched doorframe as she slid to her knees beside him, P90 tucked now beneath her arm.
"Rodney –"
His head settled gently towards her, his eyes still wide and shocked, and John could see the blood on the side of his neck. He yanked the pistol away from the unconscious Genii, his shots had been true and the soldier's rotator cuff was destroyed but this wasn't spatter on McKay, this was a real wound –
"Rodney, don't move," he heard himself growl, and Teyla took McKay's face in her hands as Sheppard leaned into the shadows, trying to see.
The pistol muzzle had dropped, the bullet had gone through the back of his neck laterally, just where the cervical vertebrae met the thoracic. He was bleeding heavily, and unless he was very, very lucky, his spine had been severed.
Sheppard ripped through the velcro on his tac vest, yanking a field dressing free of its wrapper. "Stay with me, Rodney, we got you. Just hold still." Still was not a problem. McKay had not moved a muscle, not so much as twitched a finger, and the only sound was his breathing, shuddering but oddly regular. No hyperventilation. "Talk to me, buddy. You with us?"
The field dressings were coated with a powdered clotting agent, which Sheppard knew first hand burned like all hellfire, and as he hastily wrapped the tape around McKay's throat and under his arm he saw that Rodney had screwed his eyes shut. His mouth was slightly open, but he didn't cry out, just took his slow, shivering breaths.
Involuntary breathing only. His spine had definitely been hit.
"We got company," came Ronon's tight voice. He'd seen the injury as well, and now stood to the side of the archway, looking down the steep ramp they had climbed to enter the temple. "I count almost a dozen. They haven't figured out where we are yet."
"We need something to immobilize his neck," John didn't bother to be quiet, knowing that if Teyla could hear him, McKay could too. It would scare him, but they didn't have the time. "There's a neck brace in the jumper-"
"No way across the plaza without getting spotted," Ronon growled, ducking back inside the doorframe. "We need another exit."
John gave a sharp nod, still holding pressure on the wound, and Ronon headed off into the large hall without a second's hesitation. Sheppard found himself unsurprised that the big Satedan hadn't said anything to McKay.
"Rodney, can you hear me?" Teyla's voice was soothing. Calm. In just that moment, she was Teyla Emmagen, Daughter of Tegan, leader of the Athosians, and she was not going to let anything else happen to him. "We are here."
It was hard to tell if she was having any effect. Rodney's eyes were still squeezed shut, tears making tracks through the dust on his face, and Teyla hastily wiped one away, murmuring too softly for John to make out. She was using the stunned Genii's arm as a brace for Rodney's head, and when she was certain it would not move, she scrambled to her feet, eyes darting to every corner. "I see nothing we can use as a brace-"
"Give me your jacket." Sheppard would kill for a SAM splint but that was also back on the jumper. Cloth wasn't going to make a sufficient brace but there was nothing else to use. "Just hang in there, Rodney . . ."
While Teyla ditched her tac vest and jacket, he eased his hand off the bandage and struggled with Rodney's belt, careful not to shift his torso any more than he had to. Rodney was slumped against the Genii like a little kid sprawled on his dad watching the game, but his head had rolled to the right, and there was no way to brace it without getting McKay into a more neutral position.
Without risking more damage.
Teyla dropped her jacket onto McKay's chest, shrugging back into her vest, and John folded it repeatedly from collar to hem into a tight rectangle. "We need to straighten his head. Gently." McKay was still breathing, he was still conscious, which was no small miracle but there was no way he hadn't suffered serious spinal damage, and the last thing they needed was a shard of his shattered cervical vertebrae finishing the job.
Even if they got his neck braced, they could never carry him the half mile to the jumper without a stretcher. And they certainly couldn't do it under fire.
"Get under his shoulders if you can. I only need a couple inches."
Teyla nodded, steading herself on Rodney's right side, easing his back up just slightly. Her slender arms trembled slightly under the weight of supporting his neck and head, keeping everything aligned, and Sheppard worked as fast as he dared, laying the makeshift splint gently against the dressing, already soaked through. He curved the ends up and around McKay's neck, looping the belt around as well. John tightened it just enough to hold the jacket firmly in place, and as Teyla ever so gently laid him back down, Rodney's hitched breaths continued.
"You're doing great, McKay, you're doing really good."
Rodney's eyes slitted open, the thinnest flicker of blue, and he said nothing.
"I am going to keep watch. I will be right here with you." She laid her hand on his cheek, and the blue shifted sluggishly in her direction. He could see them, then, maybe hear them even if he couldn't speak.
"Rodney, buddy, can you hear me?"
His pupils were unnaturally dilated in the dim of the room, huge and watery, and John dredged up the most sincere smile he could manage as Teyla slipped back towards the archway.
"One blink yes, two blinks no. Can you hear me?"
There was a long, intentional blink. Yes. John released a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Good, that's good. We're halfway there. Does it hurt anywhere?"
Rodney closed his eyes emphatically, it was seconds before he opened them again.
"Anywhere besides your neck?"
His eyelids trembled but didn't close, and another fat tear rolled down his jaw.
"Three blinks, you want me to rephrase the question."
Rodney blinked twice. No.
"Okay, that's okay. You just keep breathing, and try to stay awake. Ronon's on his way back to the jumper. We'll call in reinforcements and have you out of here in no time."
Yes.
It occurred to him, belatedly, that leaving Rodney lying on a Genii who was only stunned was sooner or later going to become a problem. If his own wounds didn't keep him out. He wanted to wait before moving Rodney again, wait until he passed out, either from fear or shock, but the scientist was still remarkably conscious, searching the ceiling with his jaw slightly slack.
He couldn't even moan. That meant no control of his diaphragm, his lungs, no voluntary control below the injury site. Very little above it, but that was probably just swelling and shock.
Fragments of his field first aid courses vied for John's attention. Depressed breathing, inability to cough, eventually requiring ventilation. Difficulty keeping his tongue out of his airway, requiring safety pinning his tongue to his lower lip. Fluid buildup against his spine, worsening the symptoms or causing seizures that would surely exacerbate his injuries.
"I'm gonna check things out. I'll be right here in the room, okay?"
Rodney closed his eyes and didn't open them again.
John patted him awkwardly on the head, straightening and giving the Genii soldier another look before joining Teyla by the temple archway. They were at the top of the steep ceremonial ramp, and the high ground should have afforded them some advantage but for the enormous plaza that lay below them, giving potential Genii snipers their pick of rooftops. They could be picked off themselves, but it made crossing the threshold very dangerous, and getting down the ramp unseen utterly impossible. The stone that made up the temple was a light golden color, and as he recalled the planet had at least three orbiting bodies, meaning a high likelihood of some amount of moonlight.
They weren't getting down that ramp anytime soon, darkness or no.
On the bright side, it looked like Ronon was right; the Genii could be seen scuttling from building to building, largely ignoring the temple for now. Given the extreme . . . squareness . . . of the square, and the uniform facades of the buildings that formed it, the echo of the gunfight had probably bounced around the plaza to the point of completely obliterating any directional indication. It had probably sounded like a battalion had confronted half a Wraith hive down there and the Genii couldn't find a single shell casing to corroborate it.
"He intended to cripple Rodney." Teyla's voice was fire. "He knew we could not move him with such an injury."
Not when I can get all four of you with the same bullet.
But he hadn't. Ronon was out scouting; even if he couldn't get them out of the temple, even if he couldn't get to the jumper, he'd find a more secure place to hole up. It was them against a dozen Genii, and all he had to do was channel a little Indiana Jones and rig a few booby-traps. They weren't due to check in for another five hours, but Lorne wouldn't let it go all night. He'd dial in. They were within a couple miles of the 'gate, their radios would work fine.
Just five hours. McKay had to hold on for five hours.
- x -
"I'm done."
Sheppard mashed the C4 into the crack along the keystone, careful not to spread it too thin. Too thin, and all you got was a pop. He could almost hear Cadman's polite criticism over his shoulder.
God, they could use her right now. Her and Major Lorne and the backup team that was still two hours from realizing SGA-1 was pinned down.
"You hear me?"
"Yeah. Hang on." The C4 was in shadow, which was exactly what he wanted, and Sheppard pressed the mini detonator home, glad of his short-cut nails.
"Looks good."
"Well, hopefully it doesn't look like anything." He hopped down out of the limestone niche, pleased to see that the explosive was nearly invisible from the ground, and accepted the clacker Ronon held out to him. "How's our friend?"
"Alive." The Satedan's deep rumble said more than words how he felt about it. "Left him tied up at the other end of the main hall. There's a bunch of storage rooms back there, some Ancient crystals too."
That ought to keep them distracted.
"We should have killed him. If they know it's us, they'll look harder."
It was hard to disagree with his logic. Sheppard loped back towards the antechamber, Ronon keeping pace. "We leave him alive, they spend two guys helping him back to the 'gate."
Taking soldiers out of play to help the wounded. Same as they did to us.
They slowed as they reached the corner, but there was no sound, no whisper of boots. The Genii hadn't made it up to the temple yet. "You sure there's no way out back there?"
The Runner grunted. "None that I could find, but there's gotta be. No one sets up a place like this without another way out." Without another way to flee the Wraith, he didn't say.
This was about the time McKay would typically use the Ancient scanner to find the hollows behind the wall, giving them his superior, lop-sided smirk as an innocent block of stone hissed smoothly back to reveal a secret passage. Given the time, John could probably do that himself, but he knew they didn't have it. It was either bank on another way out – a way they could safely transport McKay through – or set up booby-traps and wait for reinforcements.
Ronon was right. There must be another way out of the damn temple. It seemed insanely poor planning to make the only Wraith-proof room inescapable once you were inside it.
But inside it they went, a small, nondescript antechamber dominated by an enormous rectangular . . . altar, John finally settled on. It looked a little like the long table in the formal hall in the house in DC where he'd grown up, the one that had been referred to as a 'cadaver table.' But that label hit a little closer to home than 'altar,' so altar it was.
Teyla's watchful eyes peered out from around one of the thick stone legs of the altar, and Sheppard nodded to her. "All set," he said, quietly. "Explosives on all the entrances and a few of the hallway arches. They'll be loud and look good, but they won't bring the place down on our heads."
Probably.
His teammate nodded, her attention now at her feet, and Sheppard came around the giant altar-table. McKay was laid out on his back behind the stone pillar, eyes closed, and his breathing had finally steadied out, no longer hitching in his chest. "How is he?"
She slid down the wall across from Rodney, her P90 cradled in her arms. "I believe he is unconscious," she murmured, relief evident in her tone. "The morphine you gave him hasn't affected his breathing. It is much the same rhythm as before."
Not like it had been when they had carried him in. It had taken all three of them, two of them to immobilize his back and neck, and as careful as they'd been, there had been no way to ignore that it had been agony for McKay. His shuddering breaths, the only indication Rodney could give them of how he was feeling, had been louder than screams.
And against his better judgement, knowing it would make breathing even harder, Sheppard had given Rodney a dose of morphine. The risk seemed worth it; right now it was the periodic breath of sleep, McKay's body regulating itself with little or no input from his brain.
God dammit.
"You ready, big guy?"
Ronon grunted, coming around the other side of the enormous, solid slab of golden stone. It had to weigh at least five hundred pounds, but there were funny little convenient crevices here and there, and Sheppard had a feeling they'd be able to roll it end on end without much trouble. He also had a feeling, eyeballing the rectangular entranceway, that the table top was going to be a perfect fit.
"What are you doing?"
Teyla was back on her feet as Ronon planted himself, getting a firm grip. "We'll use this to block the door." It was the same stone, the same color, even the same texture, unusually unfinished for something that was supposed to be a table.
She just nodded, stepping over Rodney to place herself in the middle, and Ronon gritted his teeth and started to lift.
When they'd laid Rodney down behind it, Sheppard had seen there was a channel carved in the underside, that locked it into place on the two wide stone pillars that served as legs. That kept it stable on only two legs, and should also make it relatively easy to upend.
Relatively. The cords stood out starkly on Ronon's neck, his breath hissing between his teeth, but the stone came up inch by inch, and Teyla and John controlled the slide along that groove, until Ronon had managed to tilt it far enough that it slid all the way, slipping to the ground at John's feet with a deep, resonating thud.
At least five hundred pounds. Good thing he'd moved his toes.
Teyla helped Ronon walk it upright, and John held the other side, hoping beyond hope they didn't tip it over onto him. While the four corners were somewhat rounded, the edges were more defined, and it steadied itself on the dusty floor with only the barest of wobbles.
"Okay." Now the hard part. "We've only got enough room to roll it once. When we get near the doorframe we'll pivot on this corner," and he indicated it by kicking it, "and we'll put it into place."
And once they did that, they were essentially sealed in. No going back on Plan C.
No one liked Plan C. Plan C was 'sit and wait for rescue.'
There was a slight hesitation from behind the stone. "You're sure about this?"
And that was the ten million dollar question. If they were found, they were toast. They were in a relatively square room, with only two short stone pillars for cover, and one way in or out. Nowhere to fall back. He glanced up at the high ceiling, lit by cleverly reflected light from what John could only assume were some kind of low-tech sun tunnel skylights, taking advantage of the quartz-like crystals in the golden stone to create a sort of diffuse, directionless glow.
Good for light and air, not so good for escape. Once they did this, it was sit and wait time. "If you've got a better idea, I'm all ears."
The temple was designed for worship, not for war games. There was a main hallway, wide enough to admit the masses, a few antechambers like this one, the front entrance room, the main audience chamber, and the storage rooms. They could start the fight in the first chamber and fall back to the antechambers off the main hall, but sooner or later they'd be backed into a corner. That was the problem with a temple that only had one entrance.
And they didn't have the ordinance to hold that first room. They still had some C4, and the grenade that Genii had had on him, but otherwise they were down to three P90s, six extra mags, three nine mils with an extra mag apiece, Ronon's blaster, and knives. They'd scouted the damn site from the air and read no life signs. They'd come into this thinking demo, not defense.
"I say we fight. A dozen of them, three of us."
"For all we know, as soon as they heard the weapons fire one of them double-timed it back to the 'gate for reinforcements." It would be very expensive for the Genii to take the ramp, but if they succeeded, the fight would be over. "We're still two hours out from our check-in. You really think we could hold that entrance?"
There was a pregnant pause, then an angry sigh.
If they were more mobile, it was clearly the better plan. If they could knock the Genii back into the city, get down the damn ramp, then they'd have a fighting chance. Guerilla tactics would work in the ruins, particularly when they had a Life Signs Detector and the Genii didn't.
But there was no way in hell he was leaving Rodney. Not while he was still breathing. There was nowhere to hide him without sealing him in the damn room, which Sheppard was pretty sure couldn't be done from the outside. And it would take all three of them to clear the city of the Genii. He had no doubt about that.
Teyla's voice floated over the stone, thoughtful. "John, how much C4 do you have left?"
- x -
There were six dots, now, clustered in a tight group about ten yards away. Hoping their voices wouldn't carry, John thought darkly, but the sun-tunnel skylights brought the faintest murmurs of voices from its network of shafts and mirrors. Too distorted to make out words, but he didn't need them.
That rough-hew stone might have been good enough to fool a few Wraith drones, but apparently not pissed off Genii.
In the silence of the antechamber, McKay's breath caught, and Teyla gave John's shoulder a squeeze and retreated behind the stone pillars to Rodney.
Ronon stopped his nigh-silent pacing, hunching down at Sheppard's side, and he tilted the LSD so the Runner could see, scrolling back to show the temple complex. There were eleven total in the main temple. The six debating what to do with the fake wall they'd found, and the other five in the storage areas, probably helping their wounded man and digging through the Ancient artifacts that had been stored back there.
According to Ronon, all the crystals were cracked and useless. And whatever the twelve inch by eighteen inch . . . can . . . Rodney had been so fixated on was, the best John could get it to do was vibrate, ever so slightly. So now it was in Rodney's pack, in the corner out of sight. He could pretend it was a big score, it might buy their way out of this mess, if it came to it.
Looked like it was coming to it.
"What now?" Ronon's voice was soft.
Let them come in, or go out to them. Offense or defense.
John tapped the LSD, indicating the five in the storage areas. "I want them closer or out the door if we're gonna blow it." Having enemies on both sides of the doorway meant they could be pinned down, and would make the hallway hard to clear. If they could keep the Genii in the area closest to the temple entrance, they could blow some of their charges, make the Genii think the whole place was booby-trapped or unstable.
The six nearest dots broke up, two of them assembling themselves in a flanking position around the doorframe, and the other four coming to stand directly in front of the altar-top, fit neatly into its doorframe.
If he was going to blow a door he suspected someone was behind, he'd follow it up with a couple flash-bangs. He didn't think the Genii had stunning grenades, so letting them in seemed kind of stupid.
Offense it was.
Sheppard looked over the two pillars, which they'd paired, the longest sides facing the door to give them as much cover as possible. They probably would withstand a couple grenades, but he'd rather not test that if he didn't have to. The concussion would be staggering in the small, square space.
Teyla's forehead and eyes were visible, keeping Ronon and him in sight even as she attended to McKay. Of all the times that idiot would choose to wake up-
Sheppard signaled with one hand. Two charges. West side. First one, ten count, second one. Hopefully those in the storage area would think they had triggered a booby-trap, and hustle for the exit. When there were as many as possible in the blast radius of the door, he'd blow it.
Teyla's improvement was the equivalent of them tossing a few flash-bangs, and he approved.
Sheppard fished the clacker Ronon had given him out of his tac vest, flicking the safety cap up, and did the same with the one he'd tucked in his thigh pocket. The clacker in his left hand controlled the hallway blasts, the one in his right, the altar-top. He retreated to the left side of the doorframe, and Ronon to the right. Teyla, he was sure, would duck when it was time.
Sheppard balanced the LSD on his knee, watching the dots. The four in front were gathered quite close, probably planting charges of their own. That could be good or bad, depending on how strong they were, and Sheppard frowned and clicked Ronon's clacker once.
Boom!
A tiny tickle of dust was displaced from their skylight shaft, while the five dots in the back room swarmed around like the ghosts in Pac-Man when you ate some cherries. He could tell which two were helping the soldier that had shot McKay, and he waited until they weren't quite to the second archway when he clicked again.
Boom!
He hoped some of that shrapnel hit them right in the neck.
The six in front of their antechamber had frozen, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, and when the other group was beneath it, Sheppard blew the third charge, just for the hell of it. They already had momentum, if he could get the ones in the hall to draw their colleagues out, he wouldn't have to blow the main door just yet.
They were ten minutes late to check-in, it was only a matter of time before his radio would crackle and Atlantis would demand a sit-rep-
The five barreled past the antechamber, taking the others with them, and John blew the fourth and fifth charges in rhythm, watching the eleven dots scurry out the temple entrance.
Ronon was trying to catch his eye, and Sheppard nodded without looking up. The problem with not rigging the entrance to collapse was that he hadn't rigged the entrance to collapse. The Genii would be a lot more cautious, they might even wait until they had a combat engineer on site, but all they had done was buy some time.
Come on, Atlantis. Dial in.
- x -
"They have not yet called in, Rodney, but . . . I am sure it will be soon."
John could hear them, behind their cover, though Teyla's voice was quite soft. McKay's breathing had been getting more agitated, and Ronon was back there now with Teyla. The LSD would show the same readings back there as at the doorframe, but Sheppard couldn't quite bring himself to join them.
Couldn't see his buddy laying against the sand and a downed Apache. Couldn't wake up with him dead in his arms.
"Maybe the Genii dialed out," came Ronon's quiet reply. "They know it's Sheppard. They know it's us."
That was probably true. It was about an hour and forty-three minutes after they should have checked in, and there was no way in hell Lorne would have let it go that long, let alone Elizabeth.
At least their makeshift brace was keeping Rodney from bleeding out. He wouldn't be as conscious as he was if the clotting agent and the pressure weren't doing their work. If they could just get him the hell out of here-!
John closed his eyes, rubbing them until he saw stars. The LSD indicated the Genii hadn't gone anywhere. They were still determined to get through that wall, either thinking there was something there that he'd denied them, or-
There was no way the Genii could know they were in there.
Right?
It was possible they'd stumbled across the cloaked Jumper. Not likely, but possible. The original ten were penetrating the temple again, just at the entrance of the large hall, and it was only a few minutes, tops, before they determined the archways were stable. If he toggled out as far as he could on the LSD, he could see another five in the ruins proper. But there was no way the Genii hadn't called for backup by now, especially if they were dialed out.
He was out of time.
Sheppard untangled himself, getting to his feet and shaking the pins and needles out of his legs before he came around the pillars. Neither Ronon nor Telya looked surprised; Rodney had his eyes closed, but little hiccups in his breathing indicated he was awake, at least awake enough to be in pain.
"Hey, Rodney."
Blue eyes flickered open, picking him out of the lengthening shadows.
"It's gonna get noisy in here. We need to give the Genii a reason to get lost." He crouched beside the scientist, inviting the rest of his team in with a quick look. "We're gonna blow the door as soon as there are enough of 'em near it. All tangos are to the east. We'll drive them out of the temple, then Ronon and I will peel off and get the jumper. If we can't, we'll take the 'gate. Teyla will stay here and provide cover." He glanced at the team, but they seemed comfortable with the plan.
"Worst comes to worst, she'll barter with that giant can of Dr. Pepper you dug up." She was a trader by vocation, and she had had a prior relationship with the Genii. If they were going to show any understanding, it would be to her. "No matter what happens, we're coming back. We're not leaving you behind. Got it?"
McKay looked at him, really looked, like it was an effort, like he was focusing all his attention on staring. Then he blinked, very deliberately, twice.
No.
John gave him a cock-eyed grin. "I'd stay with you, but I'm the only one who can fly the jumper, and let's face it, they like me better." He was pretty sure delivering him to Kolya, or better yet, Cowan, would net any one of those Genii out there at least two promotions.
No.
Rodney's mouth worked, his jaw twitching spasmodically, as if he was gagging, and his tongue jerked uncoordinatedly in his mouth.
Sheppard watched him closely, but the movements were too clumsy. John shook his head. "Sorry, buddy, I'm not getting it."
"We should not trade the . . . Dr. Pepper," Teyla translated hesitantly, and McKay blinked twice.
No.
"Is it a weapon?"
For a split second, it seemed like Rodney's eyebrows gathered in a scowl, and then he blinked twice, and then once.
No. Three times.
Rephrase the question.
"You don't want Teyla to give the Genii the Dr. Pepper."
Three blinks.
"You don't want us to leave."
No.
Sheppard frowned, then hazarded a glance at the LSD, and swore. There were at least seven Genii right outside the damn door-
"Showtime," he whispered, nodding at the altarstone, and though McKay made the gagging motion again, John shook his head, fishing his clacker out of his vest.
"Fire in the hole," he whispered, then grinned at Rodney, covered the scientist's ears, and pressed the button.
The noise was impressive; it was like a physical blow from inside his own chest. While he hadn't covered his own ears – and they were ringing – he'd left his mouth open, and kept breathing. That helped equalize pressure, made the concussion of the blast less disorienting.
That was a hell of a lot more of a blast than he'd been counting on. Clearly the Genii had added some kind of explosive of their own.
Ronon was already up and around their cover, and Sheppard flicked the safety off his P90, glancing quickly at Teyla before darting around himself. Ronon had already stunned two bodies lying outside in the hall, but it was hard to see through all the dust, and even through the ringing in his ears John could hear gunfire.
The LSD indicated that there were three life signs right in front of him – and Ronon was one, so they'd outright killed most of the Genii that had been trying to get in – and the remaining Genii were swarming up the ramp and into the temple. Great. Sheppard waited for the firm tag on his shoulder that indicated Teyla was behind him, and then he bolted across the hallway, counting on the darkness and dust to provide cover. The Genii were firing blindly, no suppressors on their pistols, and he targeted flashes of light and answered with some of his own.
Once his mag was empty he tossed it, pulling another out of his vest, and he risked another glance at the LSD. There were another twelve life signs approaching the temple, they'd come out of nowhere, and two left in the main entrance room down the hall. Teyla was in their antechamber doorway, and at his look she gave him a firm nod. She was entrenched and ready.
But there was no way in hell he and Ronon were going to get through so many Genii. It was fourteen against two.
With his ears ringing, he never heard them. Something small and hard bounced off his chest, and he looked down stupidly before he recognized the dull metallic ball rolling silently around his feet.
Instinct borne of a thousand games of hackey-sack had him punting the grenade back down the hall almost without thought, and his aim was true – it went sailing past Ronon, who was falling back, and he barely got his eyes closed before the flash hit. Hot wind hit him in the face, but thankfully it seemed little else, and he darted back across the hall for the antechamber. Teyla gave way, making room for the both of them, and another blast, scarily close, sent John stumbling over the threshold.
Ronon followed him in a second later, and John spun into a crouch, freeing the lone grenade they'd taken off the Genii soldier that had caused this mess. He pulled the pin, gave it a three count, then chucked it hard, at an angle, across the hall. It bounced off the wall to the right, back in the direction of the entrance room, and in another two seconds – eight in all – there was a muffled explosion. Ronon beat him out the door, firing again down the hall, and John took one last look at the LSD before he followed him.
There were still a hell of a lot of life signs in that entrance.
He never made it out of the antechamber. Ronon staggered backwards, Sheppard barely caught him, and he tripped over his own boots, sending them both sprawling back. His head cracked on the stone floor and John saw stars. He barely made out Ronon's left arm shooting out, catching something, and John watched a second glint of dull metal sail past the Satedan's outstretched hand, bouncing against the wall in their antechamber before tumbling back towards the pillars.
As if in a dream, he saw Teyla fall, curling up in a fetal position. Before she finished there was a muffled pop, and she leapt off the stone as if bitten. She fell back heavily, and didn't move again.
He blinked, sluggishly, and someone tossed a bag of concrete on the weight already laying across his chest. His P90 was pinned, and he was reaching for his nine mil when another flash blinded him. The dead weight on his chest took the hit, protected him, but he couldn't get his right arm free, and the light in the doorway flickered, shadows moving inhumanly fast -
- x -
"Do you know why you're here?"
The voice was familiar, irritatingly so, and John Sheppard winced, prying his eyes open. The light wasn't terribly bright, some kind of fluorescent, and he blinked a few times, feigning more disorientation than he felt as he tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.
McKay. Teyla. Ronon.
"I personally train every one of my operatives," the voice continued. "Not that that's unique, certainly not to my people and probably not yours."
He was in a plain room, about ten by ten, slouched in the most uncomfortable wooden chair imaginable, all right angles and pokey bits. He must have been in it for quite some time, his back was stiff and his arms and legs ached fiercely. He dropped his head a little, hoping to catch sight of doors or windows, and he realized he was not bound to the chair. His wrists and arms were free of restraints.
In front of him, almost within reach, was a long wooden table. Upon it was laid the LSD, McKay's mystery can, and something that looked a little like an Ancient-ey shoe tree.
"I train them all to think like me. Do you know why I do that, John Sheppard of Atlantis?"
John shifted, making the motion look stiffer than it was, and he picked the speaker out, against the far wall. His dull grey uniform matched the concrete blocks rather nicely, as if he were part of them, and John wondered just how fuzzy his vision really was. "I'll bite," he said, his voice thick to his ears.
The nondescript Genii smiled drily. "Because everything can be solved with logic and reason. There is no benefit to succumbing to emotion."
"Good to know." John tried to stand before a sharp pain in his hip made his right leg give, and he hissed, for the first time seeing the stained bandage wrapped around his upper thigh. There was another, on his calf, and his right bicep felt a little shredded.
Grenade. He'd gotten caught in an explosion –
"You're here because of emotion," the Genii – Spock, John decided - continued calmly. "Had you pressed your advantage in your first attack, we would never have regrouped fast enough to stop you."
McKay. They couldn't, they couldn't safely move McKay-
Sheppard felt a distant spike of adrenaline. Teyla –
"Where's the rest of my team?" It was sharp, and Spock tsked gently.
"Your team is gone, John Sheppard."
Gone.
John took a breath, held it. He remembered. He remembered Teyla falling on the last grenade, the one that had gotten blasted into the room with them. He remembered Ronon, dead weight on his body -
"All but one."
Sheppard bared his teeth, forcing himself to his feet as Spock leaned off the wall. The man merely gestured towards a set of double doors, which were silently pulled open a second later to admit another Genii, another face he didn't know.
"The one you wouldn't leave behind."
A gurney trundled in behind the new guard, a dull green blanket stretched over a still form. John started forward but was stopped almost immediately when his left foot was yanked back. He almost pitched onto his face, and when he caught himself, his right arm and wrist burning, he glanced back to see a shining metal cuff around his left ankle. It was bound to a loop of metal set in the concrete floor, like the chair. Neither one looked like it was going to give anytime soon.
"We need you mobile, but not too mobile, you see," Spock's smooth voice continued. "You are aware the Genii generally lack the ability to use Ancient technology, yes?"
Sheppard pushed himself to his feet, glaring. "If you think I'm going to help you with that little problem, think again." But he had eyes only for the gurney, for the pale face at the far end of the blanket, held absolutely still as the bed was rolled to a stop.
Absolutely still except for his eyes.
Rodney McKay was alive, and his eyes were open.
Spock was merely nodding. "Commander Kolya said you'd be stubborn," he admitted. "Not like your teammate here. Dr. McKay has already discovered that cooperation has its . . . advantages."
The guards that had pushed the gurney in were settling it against the wall, manipulating it and the old-fashioned IV pole out of the way of a second stand of metal implements that reminded Sheppard very much of the Air Force dentist's office he'd had to visit to get his wings. They wouldn't let you up with any kind of dental issues, the pressure changes would hurt like hell.
McKay's eyes were darting between the guards and the wall, and if he tried really hard, it seemed like he could just barely catch a glimpse of John.
Son of a bitch.
"His injuries are substantial, but for the price of a little cooperation, he has received medical care. Painkillers. Antibiotics from your medical kits." Spock leaned off the wall, approaching McKay, and Sheppard barely recalled the ankle restraint in time. He pulled on it – hard – but the chain held fast.
And Spock gave him another dry smile. "It's true that he cannot feel anything below his neck, but I see this as an opportunity, to explore new options. This is how it went down in Atlantis, wasn't it? You, the strong soldier, and he, the weak civilian who gave away all your plans because of one little prick from a knife."
Sheppard said nothing, and McKay closed his eyes.
"So you see, this is how it works. You cooperate, or your teammate gets pricked."
". . . okay."
Sheppard was momentarily stunned; he was sure he had meant to say If you touch him, I swear to God I'll kill you.But threats weren't going to get him squat. If they wanted him to initialize a few Ancient devices, that was a small price to pay.
If Ronon and Teyla were gone, if the Genii had kept an outgoing wormhole the entire time, then it didn't matter how thoroughly Lorne searched the city, how determinedly Zelenka tried to tease addresses out of the DHD. Atlantis would have no idea where they were. If Kolya and Cowan weren't here, he couldn't even be sure he was on the Genii homeworld. No matter what medical care they'd given McKay, he needed to get Rodney to Carson. He needed Atlantis.
The Genii version of Mr. Spock also looked a little surprised. "Really," he murmured.
Sheppard did his level best not to glare. "Send McKay back to Atlantis. I'll stay."
The other man barked a laugh. "My dear John Sheppard, you are in no position to make conditions." He turned to the man by McKay's head, and the guard made a show of adjusting a thin leather glove.
"He's dying," Sheppard ground. "You don't have the medical facilities here to keep him alive. Send him to Atlantis, and I'll cooperate. Hurt him, or let him die, and you get squat."
"You'll pardon my ignorance, but I was under the impression that Ancient devices work due to something in the blood, something exceptional, only possessed by certain people. Tell me, do you need to be conscious to turn these devices on?" The guard by McKay's head selected something that looked decidedly like a Dremmel with a cutting wheel attached, and McKay shuddered out a breath.
"Sometimes, yes," John growled. "Not everything will turn on just because I show up."
"So, it's just some devices, then," Spock mused, while the guard spun up the tool with a metallic whine. Definitely a Dremmel. "Let us see which ones are which, then."
God dammit, they were going to hurt him and there wasn't a damn thing John could do about it. If he caved now, there was no hope of bargaining for McKay's freedom. "You're making a mistake-"
Spock shook his head, slowly. "You made the mistake, John Sheppard, when you let emotion cloud your judgement. Now you must deal with the consequences."
John struggled vainly against the chain, shouting in McKay's place when the guard gently pried Rodney's mouth open, pressing the cutting disk against one of his teeth.
- x -
Author's Notes: Sorry for the cliffie, I got a little carried away on length. At least it won't be a one-shot the likes of PAA . . . = D The other half should be posted shortly! In the meantime, don't panic. This fic really isn't as dark as it looks. Since the prompts were "Scare the crap out of John" and "Confuse McKay . . ."