John Sheppard arrived in the 'gate room the next morning feeling like he'd spent the night sleeping on a bed of rocks—which was ironic, seeing as he hadn't actually slept at all. Not for lack of trying, though. McKay had camped out on the floor next to John's bed, complaining vociferously and at length about his bad back and pining for his orthopaedic mattress. Every time John had started to nod off, he would hear a snore or a snuffle coming from the scientist that would wake him up—too many years in the field had made him a light sleeper; even the slightest unfamiliar noise had him instantly alert.
So now John approached Jackson and Carter, feeling slightly punchy and wishing he'd packed some Visine. His two teammates looked up from their private conversation to greet him. Part of John envied their easy camaraderie—the two of them had been teamed together for so many years now that they could practically read each others' minds. But then, that kind of closeness usually came at a price, and it was too high a price for John to be willing to pay again. He'd learned his lesson in Afghanistan—personal relationships and military life didn't mix well, in his experience.
But like it or not, John found himself suddenly stuck with his own personal sidekick in the form of one Dr. Rodney McKay. In light of their unusual circumstances, they both felt it was a good idea to stick close together, especially since neither of them could guess what might happen to Rodney if they were separated. The thought of ceasing to exist in John's absence had been more than enough to convince Rodney to risk a trip through the stargate, even though he was unsure what effects passing through a wormhole might have on him in his current 'condition'. So there was no way John could ignore the man, and despite his better judgement, he was really starting to like the guy.
At last, the final member of his team arrived, yanking on her tactical vest as she trotted towards them.
"You've got to be kidding me! Cadman? Cadman is on your team?" Rodney bleated in John's ear.
"You got a problem with Cadman?" John mumbled as he covertly fussed with his comm.
"Of course not," Rodney snapped defensively. "Not really," he amended after a moment. "Okay—so it kind of creeps me out being around her since that time she got stuck in my head. Trust me—you do not want that woman knowing every thought that goes through your mind. She's not above blackmail."
John suppressed a smirk and wrote a mental sticky note to get the whole story on that one later. In the mean time, they had a mission to think about, and a possible new ally awaiting them on the other side of that wormhole.
"Alright, Colonel, you know the drill," said Caldwell from up in the control centre. "Focus on fresh fruits and vegetables if possible, settle for grains if it comes to that. I don't need to remind you that our reserves are getting desperately low."
Carter nodded in agreement and the team lined up to face the burgeoning event horizon. As the force shield dropped and they began walking forward, John felt a warm pressure against the palm of his right hand. He looked down to see Rodney's big mitt attached to it palm to palm. His first instinct was to get his back up and push him away, but since no one else could see McKay, that would have looked mighty peculiar.
And besides, Rodney was looking back at him with an unlikely mix of defiance and neediness that was strangely endearing. Heaven help him, John didn't want to let go, either.
They passed through the wormhole together, and once on the other side, Rodney instantly dropped John's hand and adopted on an air of macho bravado that was co contrived it was almost painful to watch.
"Okay. Well, that was an interesting experience," McKay said, not quite able to keep a squeak out of his voice. John just gave him a small smirk—standard response when he didn't know what the hell someone was talking about. "What—you didn't feel that?" asked Rodney, who apparently knew his standard responses a little too well. "That whole…'Dorothy through the looking glass/this is your life' thing? You didn't feel that?"
"It's 'Alice Through the Looking Glass," John whispered, "and no, I didn't notice anything unusual."
"Fine—'Alice'," Rodney conceded. "Forgive me for not being in touch with my inner drag queen."
"Says the man who needed to hold my hand to go through the stargate," Sheppard responded with a flash of a grin. Game, set and match.
"What was that?" asked Daniel, who had overheard part of the whispered conversation.
"Nothing, Jackson—just thinking out loud." Daniel gave him a quirk of his eyebrow, which was good—it meant he'd chalked John's unusual behaviour up to just another in a long line of bizarre behaviours. Maybe John should be worried that his teammates didn't think twice about him talking to himself, but then, in their line of work, he figured it was only a matter of time before they all snapped. Maybe denial was their only real defense.
John fell in behind the rest of his team, watching their six as they crossed a field of sparse, shrivelled grain in the direction of a tidy cluster of houses.
"Wait a minute," Rodney said, sounding pensive. "I know this place."
That caught John's full attention, and he eyed his new companion questioningly.
"This is the Genii home-world," Rodney explained, a not-so-subtle hint of bitter distaste surfacing from within the heavier bouquet of fear.
"You know these people?" John asked, more loudly than he'd intended, and he wasn't surprised when it was Jackson who answered.
"Only from what some of our trading partners have told us. They're reputed to be tough negotiators, but 'honest and reliable'." The air quotes were clearly audible in his response.
Next to John, Rodney let out a mirthless snort. "Please—the Genii are about as genuine as the Fiji Mermaid. Trust me, John, you do not want to get into bed with these people. I suggest a hasty retreat—say, right about now—before it rains on our parade and they go all Gizmo on us."
John quickly measured Rodney's response, taking in the darting eyes and the nervous way he kept grabbing at his right forearm like he was in pain. Sure, he'd been more verbally panicky when John had been stuck in the MRI, but the body language was unmistakable—Rodney was seriously freaked.
As they drew closer to the tiny village, a young woman spotted them and 'halooed' to them, attracting the attention of an older man bailing hay further out in the field.
"Oh, great," Rodney muttered. "It's too late. Just… just, whatever you do, don't piss them off, and don't mention C4. The Genii have this whole secret underground city, complete with a psycho army and a crap-load of barely contained nuclear warheads."
Sheppard's step faltered slightly at the mention of nuclear warheads. As far as he knew, no one in the Pegasus Galaxy had been able to advance that far without attracting the attention of the Wraith and getting themselves seriously culled. And by the looks of it, these folk had scarcely graduated from the hunting/gathering stage of development.
Falling back to let Jackson do his thing, John gave the pretty young blonde—Sora—a good once-over. As the usual pleasantries were passed, John studied her carefully. For a farm girl, she held herself all wrong. Despite her apparent frailty and signs of illness there was something about her that screamed military. The way she met his eyes with a flinty stare, and the way she squared her shoulders, chin jutting out ever so slightly as if daring him to put her to the test. The man she'd introduced as her father—who was equally sallow-looking—hid it better than she did; but he, too, had a dangerous undercurrent to him. John was absolutely certain that he would have missed the signs if Rodney hadn't given him the heads-up.
John glanced over at the rest of his team. Carter and Jackson were laying the diplomatic jargon on thick, desperate to make a good first impression, but Cadman gave him an uneasy look. She'd noticed something fishy, too, it seemed. And if that wasn't enough to convince him, he also had Rodney hovering so close he could practically feel the nervous tension radiating off him in waves.
Despite the fact that he might be committing career suicide, John felt the need to say something before Carter promised to jump through hoops on the off-chance of procuring fresh veggies. There was no other way for it but to be blunt: "So…just so we're clear; you guys aren't some neurotic, militaristic race with a secret arsenal of nuclear weapons stashed away in a hidden, underground lair, are ya?"
"Major!" Carter snapped, more shocked than angry at the interruption.
Sheppard shrugged—he might have even apologized, if their hosts hadn't noticeably flinched in unison and swapped surreptitious glances.
"What did I tell you?" Rodney crowed.
"So there is a secret underground bunker with nuclear weapons?" John asked with feigned innocence, rubbing the back of his neck in his best 'gee, gosh' way.
The blonde's lips drew into a hard, thin line, her sunken eyes glaring at him with enough hatred to melt iron. She wasn't the only one giving him the hairy eyeball, either—the rest of his team were looking at him as if he'd spontaneously begun channelling Nostradamus.
"A little birdie told me," John said by way of explanation.
The girl's father stepped up to him, all pretence of being a simple farmer dropping away as he scowled at him in contempt. Suddenly he didn't seem the least bit humble or weak, and the pitchfork in his hands was aimed at them like a weapon now, too. "It is true, then, what others have said about your people. You knew of our weapons and our plan to destroy the Wraith as they slumbered, and yet you awakened the beasts before we were ready to attack! Because of you we were not prepared when the Wraith came. Our scientists doubled their efforts to complete our weapons, but it wasn't enough—the Wraith decimated our population before we could deploy even one bomb!"
Carter stepped forward, hands held in front of her in a vain attempt to rescue the situation. The man, Tyrus, was practically humming with anger, veins popping in his forehead as his jaw clenched ever tighter, and John had a nasty feeling that Carter was only going to piss him off more. And hadn't Rodney warned him not to piss them off?
"I promise you, we had no intention of putting your people in danger," Carter said, inching closer to the farmer and slowly reaching for the pitchfork. "And right now, it sounds like you could use all the allies you can get. So I think it's in everyone's best interest to let the past go and focus on the future."
Beside John, Rodney snorted. "You guys have clearly never dealt with the Genii before. They can hold a grudge almost as long as the Replicators can."
As if to prove Rodney's point, Tyrus snarled at Carter and jabbed at her with the pitchfork. "You weren't listening, Lantean—the Genii have no future. The few of us who survived the attack are barely able to work the land for food! Everyday we lose more of our people to a wasting sickness brought on by the Wraith."
As Colonel Carter continued to placate the man, John cut his gaze over to McKay, who'd taken a step back, for some reason. John raised a questioning eyebrow at him.
"It's radiation poisoning," Rodney stated, his face slack with fear. "We're standing at ground zero of a Chernobyl-sized meltdown. We've gotta get the hell out of here, John! It may already be too late!"
Oh, what John would give for a simple meet-n-greet to go as planned. He allowed himself a little sigh of regret before yanking the pitchfork out of Tyrus' hands. As expected, the man was furious at the unforeseen move and took a swing at him, but John had the advantage of not being the one rotting away from radiation sickness, and in a heartbeat he had the man pinned to the muddy earth. Luckily, the rest of his team played along with him and quickly had the girl under gun-point. He wasn't at all surprised to see that Sora had a wickedly sharp knife in her grip, ready to use it against them at the first opportunity.
"Okay. Here's how it's gonna go," said Sheppard, his knee digging firmly into the small of Tyrus' back. "We came here to do a little trading. That's all. Now, from the looks of it, you've got crops that won't grow and I'll bet your livestock have seen better days, too. Am I right?" John didn't wait for an answer, knowing he wasn't going to get one anyway. "Your people, the animals, the plants—it's what we call radiation poisoning, and it's coming from those weapons you built, not from the Wraith attack. Now the good news is that we might be able to treat some of your people and make them better. So. The way I see it, you need what we have more than the other way around, and that means you're gonna start treating us with the respect we deserve. Got it?"
This time he waited until he got a grudging nod from Tyrus before he let up on the man's back, allowing him to pull himself to his feet. There was still a wary vibe coming off him, and his daughter had a look on her face like she'd swallowed a live fish, but the fight was over. Carter and Cadman holstered their weapons and took a step back to let them know they no longer posed a threat.
Carter looked at John pointedly before addressing Tyrus. "What Major Sheppard said is true—you and your people will die if you remain here. We can help you relocate, treat your sick: in return, we ask for your friendship and a chance to set up a trade agreement that will benefit all of us."
Tyrus stood tall, his chin held high as if to save face despite the mud caked into his shirt and pants. He nodded proudly. "I will call a town gathering to discuss your offer this evening. If you return tomorrow, you will have your answer then." He wasn't giving in—he was just doing what was best for his people. John really didn't care, so long as they let them leave peacefully, right the hell now.
***
John was really starting to hate the infirmary. Hadn't he just gotten out of this place? And here he was again, draped in nasty green scrubs, while Dr. Needles McJabberson drew more blood from his arm than could possibly be humane. At least this time he wasn't alone. The rest of his team filled up the entire south side of the infirmary, having their arms drained in the name of medicine. Jackson looked particularly green around the gills, and John belatedly remembered that this wasn't his first run-in with radiation sickness. Poor guy.
But at least he didn't have an invisible hypochondriac pacing incessantly around him.
John frowned at Rodney, willing him to chill out and shut the hell up, before he tested the boundaries of Rodney's physical presence by throttling the man to death. Seriously—how did he think John would be able to convince Keller to run tests on him? 'Gee, Jennifer, remember that hallucination I was having earlier? Well, would you mind drawing some imaginary blood from him? He thinks he might have radiation sickness. Thanks.' Yeah, that would go over well.
Keller left to run their blood tests, leaving John alone with his team, and suddenly all eyes turned to him in unison. It was creepy in a 'Village of the Damned' kind of way.
"Well?" asked Carter, arms tightly crossed as she frowned a dime-sized hole into John's forehead. "Care to explain what that was all about?"
"Like I said, a little birdie told me," John answered sheepishly.
"Hah! Like they're gonna buy that?" Rodney glibly remarked.
"Well if you have any other suggestions, I'd love to hear 'em," John snapped back, instantly regretting his slip-up.
"John…" said Jackson in his most placating voice—and it was never a good sign when Jackson addressed him by his first name. They'd never made the leap to being on a first name basis, and coming from the archaeologist, it always came out sounding like a teacher scolding a wayward pupil. "Is there anything you need to tell us?"
Well, crap. On the one hand he could tell the truth and risk spending the next several months heavily medicated and locked up in the infirmary, and on the other hand he could lie, and risk never getting Rodney back to his full-corporeal self again. Rodney; with his massive blue puppy-dog eyes, practically begging him for his help.
"You're gonna think I'm crazy, but I'm not," John warned, and then launched into his story, fingers crossed.