Title: Another Life
Author: stella_pegasi
Rating: T
Words: Chapter Two 3858
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Action/Adventure; partial AU (embedded in main story)
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Graphic violence, torture, some sexually suggestive but not graphic scenes, suggestion of non-con.
Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagan, occasional characters, original characters.
Summary: Sheppard leads his team on a search for a Marine missing for over five years but what SGA-1 finds is trouble. With Sheppard gravely injured, a familiar voice speaks to him and tells him not to worry; all will be well and helps him survive. But will he survive?
Disclaimer: I do not own them; I would have treated them better.
Author's Notes: This story was written for an Easter 2010 Fic Exchange in the sheppardhcchallenges community on LiveJournal. I was assigned a prompt by a community member, sterenyk_strey and based on that prompt, here's the story. As per my usual mode of operation, I wrote a lot. This story is seven chapters plus an epilogue long and I will post it in increments of two chapters per day. Hope you enjoy and always, let me know the good and the bad.
FYI…I have an alternate universe dream sequence in this story, which should be fairly easy to pick…it is in italics. However, sometimes doesn't cooperate with formatting so if there is any confusion, my apologies in advance.
CHAPTER TWO: THE KINGAnxiety had been building in Ronon since he saw a couple of the guards bring new ropes and a trunk onto the wooden platform in the center of the small square. He knew that all that preparation was for his friends.
The doors to the main hall opened and Ronon waited impatiently to see who was leaving the building. As his teammates emerged it was as Ronon had feared, the guards took them directly to the wooden platform. Moving to the other side of the chimney, he crouched behind the stone cylinder, resisting the urge to start blasting all of the thugs he could.
The guards tied Teyla hands and then hung her wrists hung above her head on a hook fastened to one of the wooden poles. Then they ripped the t-shirts off of Rodney and Sheppard, bound their hands and hung them over hooks on two of the other poles. As all but two of the guards left the platform, Strayer walked out of the main hall and climbed the wood steps onto the platform. The two guards bowed to him and then one reached into the chest and brought out a whip which he presented to Strayer. The self-proclaimed king unhooked his robe and threw it to the wooden floor where the other guard immediately picked it up as if the robe was precious. Strayer cracked the whip as he paced back and forth in front of Sheppard and McKay.
"Sergeant, please do not do this…Colonel Sheppard tried to find you, we only wanted to find you and get you home." Teyla was pleading with Strayer. "Do not hurt them…"
Strayer walked over to her, "Oh, how sweet, I am touched; you don't want me to hurt your precious Sheppard and what is this, you even care about the great Dr. McKay?" He caressed her face with his fingers and then slipped his hand around the back of her head, pulling her to him, kissing her. When he released her, her eyes were flashing and she spat in his face.
As he wiped his face, he leaned close to her, "You little bitch, you will pay for that and so will they." Strayer slapped her across her lower face; her head lolling to the side, a small trickle of blood escaping from the corner of her mouth. Strayer rubbed his thumb across the blood, smearing it across her lips.
He then turned to Dr. McKay who was watching him intently, fear in his eyes but he was trying to remain calm. Strayer stood in front of him, cracking the whip and then twirling it, letting the tip hit McKay's ankles.
"Damn it, Strayer, your…problem is with me…let them go." Sheppard voice was low, his breathing shallow but his eyes were dark and intense.
"Let them go? You're right, colonel, my focus is with you but I can't let your friends go. I can hurt you not only by giving you a taste of the whip but I can make you watch as I break their tender skin wide open, making them bleed and suffer exquisite pain. In fact, I think Dr. McKay will go first."
"Strayer, stop…don't do it," Sheppard was pleading but Strayer raised the whip and brought it down on McKay's chest.
McKay attempted to take the strike of the whip in silence but he couldn't prevent a whimper from escaping his lips. Another lash, then another struck McKay and he gave up all pretense of being brave; screaming with each blow, bright red rivulets of blood beginning to trail down his body. Sheppard struggled to loosen his bindings, his legs kicking out at Strayer; Teyla continued to yell for Strayer to stop. Striking Rodney two more times across the back, the 'sire' stopped, cracking the whip against the wooden deck again.
The sergeant's eyes found Teyla's, "Are you enjoying this, my little Athosian? If not, perhaps you will enjoy this." Smiling at her, Teyla could see the maniacal look in his eyes and she felt a cold shiver run down her spine; there would be no reasoning with Strayer, he was no longer sane.
Sheppard raised his head as Strayer approached him, "Why…didn't you…contact Atlantis? This didn't…have to 'appen."
"This didn't have to happen? No colonel, this wouldn't be happening if you had not been in command. My team was green; we didn't know what we were up against. We were trusting and let the slavers get the drop on us. My teammates fought back bravely but we were outnumbered and they died. I was injured and the men who murdered my teammates, they decided to patch me up so that they could salvage something. They kept me drugged so I couldn't fight them and once I was healed they sold me to a mining operation on Tacner."
Strayer began to pace, "For three long years, I slaved in that mine, watched men and women die from cave-ins, thirst, constant beatings. I worked hard in that mine, thinkin' that would keep me from being beaten but they beat me anyway, just for sport." He walked up and put his face inches from Sheppard's, "The Marines would have been proud of me, I became a 'gladiator' of sorts. I fought other slaves owned by other mine companies and I won and made my owners rich. Still I had to work the mines and still they beat me, whipped me. You deserve no less…"
With that, Strayer moved away from Sheppard and began to strike him; over the next few minutes, he struck the colonel again and again and again. He could hear Teyla screaming at him to stop but he kept flailing the lash until Sheppard's torso, neck and face were crisscrossed with thin trails of dripping blood.
When he finished, he walked to Teyla, who glared at him with a hatred she had not felt in a very long time. He cupped her chin, tilting her head toward him, "Well, my pretty, let's see who thinks the colonel is handsome now that he has a scar like mine on his face. Will you still follow the handsome colonel, Teyla?" She jerked her head away from his hand.
"You will pay for what you have done here today, sergeant."
"Ah, but so will you…," he turned as if to walk away, then whirled back around and brought the whip across Teyla's chest. Strayer laughed as Teyla screamed and over her scream, he could hear the nearly unconscious Sheppard yelling stop.
The self-proclaimed king walked to where the two guards were standing and handed the whip to one of them, the other replacing his robe around his shoulders.
"I have many things to do today; leave them hanging here until mid-day and then take them back to the cell; give them food and water and let them rest. I want this punishment to last for a very long time…killing Sheppard and McKay slowly will bring me much pleasure; the woman, I will take pleasure from another way."
Walking down the stairs, he stopped before Doulis, "Let the good citizens of Baranton know that I will be holding audience after the mid-day meal. They are not to come to the palace until then. Make certain our 'guests' are out of sight by then and get that blood cleaned up. I don't want my subjects to know of them quite yet."
"Yes, sire." Doulis bowed to the retreating 'king and then motioned for younger man to come to him. He spoke to the boy and then the young man took off down the road toward the larger village. Doulis looked at the three Atlantians on the platform for a moment before he followed Strayer into the main hall.
Watching from his perch on the roof, Ronon's anger was quickly reaching an eruption point, yet he knew that there was nothing he could do at the moment; he would only succeed in getting them all killed. The one thing that he had no doubt about was that he would not allow the sergeant to go unpunished if any of his friends died; he would see to it that the 'king' suffered the same fate.
The sun was directly above them when the guards finally removed them from the post. Teyla was conscious but Sheppard had passed out shortly after Strayer left the platform and McKay had been in and out of consciousness most of the morning. Although it wasn't extremely hot, exposure to the sun had caused all three of the Atlantians to sunburn; Rodney especially, his chest, back and shoulders were very red.
They were carried to the same cell in the basement of the prison and surprisingly to Teyla, they guards were more gentle than she had expected them to be as they placed them down. Blankets were in the cell and there were two pitchers of water and bread and cheese. She wasn't hungry but after the guards left, she ripped pockets off of her BDU pants and used the scraps to clean Sheppard and McKay's wounds.
When she rolled Sheppard over and saw how deep some of the wounds were on his back, she felt bile rise in her throat both from anger and from horror at what was happening to him and to them. She knew that Atlantis would search for them but no one knew where they were; not even Ronon if he were still alive.
After she tended to Sheppard, she moved to Rodney; he was also still unconscious. He had not suffered as many lashes as Sheppard had and they were not as deep; the sergeant's anger at Sheppard demonstrated by the ferocity he used to whip him. She cleaned the thin wounds but her biggest concern was with the severe sunburn Rodney had suffered.
The top of his shoulders, his face, and his chest as well as under his arms was bright red and small blisters were beginning to form in the darkest areas. His skin was hot to the touch and Teyla took a clean patch of fabric and gently wiped the area with cool water. When she was done, she took care of her own cuts and covering the men with blankets, she curled up between them so that she would know if one of them woke up and she fell asleep.
Ronon waited until his teammates were taken back into the prison, hoping that Strayer was true to his word and that they would get food and water. He knew that Sheppard, especially, and McKay were badly hurt but Teyla had been spared somewhat. The problem was he knew why she had been spared and he knew that he was going to have to prevent Strayer from abusing her if he did nothing else.
The guards all seemed to be heading toward the building he thought housed the mess. Looking around, he realized this would probably be the best time to leave his perch and head for the other village. He needed to find someone to talk to and find out where he was. Silently, he dropped down from the roof and headed for the tree line.
Although still unconscious, John Sheppard felt the tendrils of a familiar presence enter his thoughts; a presence that gave him a feeling of security and warmth. He wasn't aware that he knew it wasn't Atlantis, he was too far away to connect with her but he did know this entity that was reaching out to him. Slowly he became aware of a voice in his head, a familiar voice, soft and soothing.
"John, I know that you are in a terrible situation but I am here to help you through it. You must trust me; I am going to help you keep your mind occupied as you endure the trials ahead. I am going to help you dream, a dream that you can escape into whenever you need to do so. Believe in me and believe in yourself and you will survive."
Dreams
He woke slowly; he was groggy and he ached from head to toe. He remembered being cold and wet but at the moment he was warm and for some reason felt secure. He didn't know why he felt that way but he knew he wasn't in danger. Opening his eyes, he realized he was somewhere with a roof but his vision was blurry and he couldn't determine any more than that. There was movement near where he laid but he couldn't make out who was there; he tried to speak but couldn't get any words out. He drifted back to sleep.
Realizing that he was waking, the young girl sitting next to his bed jumped up and ran into the main room where a woman was cooking. "Milady, he is awake or at least trying to wake up."
Turning from the stove, the woman smiled at the girl, "Merry, I have asked you not to call me that. You must call me by my name, remember we are in hiding."
Merry curtsied and dropping her head, "I am sorry, I will be more careful…Isabella."
Isabella laughed softly, "The curtsey is not necessary either and I know that you will be careful, especially if our charge is now awake. Watch the stew, it is almost ready and I do not want it to burn. I will go check on the gentleman."
She walked into the sparse bedroom; his eyes were closed and quietly, she sat down in the wooden chair next to the bed. Gazing at him, Isabella admonished herself; she had a job to do and she couldn't allow herself to be so distracted by how beautiful this tall, lean man was. She resisted the urge to touch his dark disheveled hair or run her fingers along his angular jaw and chiseled cheek bones barely hidden under a few days growth of beard. The beard also did little to hide the bruises on his face and neck from the beating he had endured. However, it was his lips that drew her in so deeply; full and soft, she could only imagine what it would feel like to have those lips on hers. Closing her eyes, she thought that it had been too much too long since she had enjoyed a kiss. She was jolted from her daydreams by a husky voice; opening her eyes, she found herself looking into the most beautiful olivine green eyes, eyes that took her breath away.
"Where am I?" He struggled to sit up but finding he didn't have the strength, he collapsed back into the pillow.
"You are safe; please lie back and I will get you some water." She busied herself with getting him water, trying to compose herself, giving herself a silent warning to stop shaking. Turning back to him, with one hand she supported his head and with the other she held the glass of water for him to drink from. His warm hand curled around hers to steady the glass, his long fingers wrapping around her tiny wrist; she took a deep breath, this wasn't helping.
He finished drinking and she placed another pillow behind his head so that he was sitting up a bit. He grimaced as he shifted to get more comfortable and once settled, he took a long look at the woman who was helping him. She had walked over to a dresser where she was dampening a cloth in a bowl of water.
She was small of stature with dark, sandy blond hair falling softly around her face to her shoulders. She was wearing a deep purple, floor length gown made from a fine material that somehow seemed out of place in the rough hewn wood walls of the room. Her curves were accentuated by cut of the gown and when she turned around his eyes were drawn to the low cut bodice which she filled out quite amply. He wasn't certain where he was or who she was but he wasn't too unhappy to be there.
"Who are you, and where am I?" As she sat down next to him and leaned closer in order to wipe his face, a familiar scent of sweet, spicy flowers caressed his senses; this beautiful woman smelled like the colorful snapdragons he remembered from his mother's garden. The delicate snaps were his mother's favorite and he loved them as well.
She began to wipe his face and neck with the damp cloth, hoping that he couldn't tell that her hands were trembling. "My name is Isabella and you are in a farmhouse outside of the village of Ballingham. I know that you are John Sheppard, Earl of Westland. Do you remember what happened?"
"Vaguely, I know I returned from Alasa because I received a letter from Rodney that his father was dying. I remembered hiring a transport to take me to the palace but then things get fuzzy."
"You were ambushed along the road to the capital. Allies of Lord Davos are trying to round up those who are loyal to Prince Rodney; we are trying to rescue or hide all that we can. Some of our people were trying to catch up with you and saw what happened. They were able to rescue you the next day but not before you had been beaten by Davos' thugs. That was three days ago; the healer said you had been drugged and that has caused you to be unconscious for so long." Just as she said that, she touched a bruise along his jaw and he winced. She pulled her hand back quickly afraid she had hurt him.
"I am sorry; I did not mean to hurt you."
"It's alright; your touch is very gentle." He reached up and touched the bruise. "I imagine I have a few more bruises all over from the way my body feels." He looked down and realized that he was dressed in a nightshirt.
"Did you help with changing my clothes when I was brought here?" He gazed at her, watching her eyes widen at his question and seeing a faint blush rise in her cheeks, just the reaction he was hoping to see from her.
"No…no…Ronon and Carson helped. They undressed you and washed the blood from your wounds; then dressed you in the nightshirt." She rose quickly and went to re-wet the cloth with cool water.
"Who are they?"
"They are allies of Prince Rodney; Sir Ronon Dex is a knight of the realm and Sir Carson Beckett is a healer. If you do not know them, then you have been away a very long time."
"I left a long time ago, decided that my father would prefer that I leave so that he could pretend I was never born." He laid his head back and closed his eyes, trying to push memories of his last conversation with his father out of his head.
"Your father was a fool to turn you away."
Isabella had no sooner verbalized her thoughts when she realized that she was the foolish one for even speaking of his father much less commenting on what had occurred between them. She knew of his estrangement with his father from the Prince himself. She had grown up with Lady Jennifer, the Prince's betrothed, and they were best friends; as such, she had been taken into the Prince's confidence and had helped get the secret message to be sent to the Earl of Westland out of the castle. Prince Rodney knew that there was only one person he could truly trust to help him and that was his childhood friend, John Sheppard.
She walked back to the side of the bed and sat down again, intending on wiping the other side of his face. As she reached across him to wipe the cloth down his right cheek, he grabbed her hand. She took a sharp intake of breath, his hand was as warm as it had been earlier and his touch was having an even stronger effect on her than before.
"What makes you believe my father was a fool?" The light from the flickering lamp was reflected in her eyes and he was mesmerized by their deep forest green color, a color he could get lost in.
"I am sorry, sir, I should not have spoken such words. I do not have the right." She gently pulled her hand away and he released her. "You must be hungry, I have made a stew; I will bring you a bowl."
"Isabella, before you go. I need to, uh…well, nature calls."
"Oh…um…there is a water closet behind that door. Let me help you up." She pulled the blanket away from his body and waited for him to move his legs to the side of the bed and onto the floor.
"Put your arm around me to steady yourself before you try to stand." She told him.
Isabella planted her feet and waited to feel his weight transfer to her shoulders. He placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed off of the bed; he didn't really need to use her but he was enjoying the feel of his hand on her small shoulder. John feigned more dizziness than he actually felt so he could lean more on her tiny frame, her head barely reaching his shoulder; he finally put his arm around her slender waist pulling her closer. They made it across the room and she waited while he attended to business.
When John emerged, he slid his arm around her waist again and she was forced to wrap her arm around his back to support him. As they reached the bed, he turned to sit down but stumbled, on purpose, and fell to the bed taking her with him. Isabella landed on top of him and for a brief moment she could do nothing but soak in how his hard body felt against her. His arms tightened around her and she felt his knee slide between her legs. She gasped at the intimacy and pushed away from him and he let her go.
He smiled at her, "Sorry, I slipped. You, alright?" He well aware of the effect he was having on her and it was giving him great pleasure. It had been a long time since he had felt such a soft body so close.
"I am fine." Obviously embarrassed, Isabella excused herself and left to get his food.
She leaned against the door she had closed behind her for a moment as she let her racing heart calm down. Merry turned from the stove and looked at her.
"Mi…Isabella, are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Please take a bowl of stew, some bread and tea to the Earl." She crossed the room to where her cloak was hanging. I am going to find Chuck and send him to let Ronon and the others know the Earl is awake. I'll be back shortly." With a flourish of her cloak, she disappeared through the front door.
