She paused at the top of the stairs, her gaze fixing on John. His relaxed expression held no signs of the man who had pulled his gun on her only a week before. Elizabeth shook her head. The ordeal still terrified her, but in the days since it had happened, she'd seen no trace of anything unusual in him. But somewhere inside of him, Elizabeth was convinced there was more going on than John would ever care to admit. She'd toyed with the idea of ordering him to see Heightmeyer, but each time she'd dismissed the thought. John Sheppard could be stubborn about stuff like this, and she knew he'd only rebel if she forced him, be uncooperative, and nothing would be accomplished.
In fact, she reasoned to herself, things could end up worse. Right now, Elizabeth felt John was at least marginally open with her. She didn't want to lose that, remove that outlet that he had, while he tried to work through things on his own. She sighed, acutely feeling like she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Pushing her thoughts away, she lightly skipped down the stairs into the gate room.
"Major." Elizabeth crossed the gate room and stopped next to John. "Are we ready to go?"
Checking the clip on his 9mil, John re-holstered the weapon and smiled. "As ready as we'll ever be."
Elizabeth tapped the call button on her radio. "Radek, dial Palla." She looked at Sergeant Bates. "We'll radio back when we're ready for you to start sending supplies through."
Bates pursed his lips and glanced at John, before looking back at Elizabeth. "Yes, ma'am."
"Something wrong, Sergeant?" John's gaze narrowed at the security chief.
"With all due respect, sir, I still don't think it's a good idea for Dr. Weir to go off world. Especially since the likelihood of this planet being culled in the near future is high."
Elizabeth could feel the tension from John, but beat him to a reply. "It's all right, Sergeant," she smiled, "we'll be fine."
Bates bit back a comment and nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He nodded in acknowledgement at John and walked away.
Elizabeth glanced at John's wry expression.
"Wet blanket," John muttered.
"Good balance for you," she quipped lightly.
John furrowed his brows and looked at her. "What does that mean?"
Elizabeth continued smiling, keeping the mood light. "Sometimes you're too easy going, John. Bates is a good balance for you."
Elizabeth watched as tension rose on John's face. His gaze was distant and his eyes glazed in dark memories. "John?" She lightly touched his arm, pulling back as he jumped slightly.
John's eyes refocused and he looked over at her. "Let's go." Reflexively lifting his P-90, he walked forward and through the wormhole.
Elizabeth watched for a moment, as John disappeared across the event horizon. His reaction concerned her: for the first time in days, she'd seen some hint that he wasn't entirely over his ordeal. She sighed. The frequent trips to Palla had kept him marginally satisfied and the pressure off her to return him to full off-world duty, but she could sense he was chafing at the restrictions. For a moment, she was taken with the urge to suspend him from all off-world missions again, but she dismissed the idea. Something about the Pallans was having a therapeutic effect on the Major, and she was hesitant to take that away. Elizabeth walked forward, following behind Rodney and towards the wormhole, all the while nodding to herself. For now, she was content to keep John just on the Pallan missions, and nothing else.
She felt the familiar chilling sensation as she crossed the event horizon. Almost instantaneously, she found herself stepping out into the warm sunshine of Palla. John was standing a few feet ahead of her, so she walked up next to him, and looked out across the valley.
Elizabeth inhaled slowly as she took in the scenery that met her. She smiled and looked over at John, who was already grinning.
"It's something, isn't it?"
Elizabeth looked back at the village and mountains. "It's breathtaking," she whispered. She glanced back at John, whose grin broadened before he turned and headed for a narrow path that led down through the trees.
"This way." John waved back at her.
For a moment, Elizabeth hesitated. As quickly as the tension had appeared in the Major, it was gone, replaced by the John Sheppard she knew so well. She cocked an eyebrow at his retreating back. Elizabeth wasn't sure if she should be concerned or reassured by the abrupt transformation.
"Ma'am?"
Ford's voice broke her thoughts and she flashed him a quick smile before she followed behind John down the steep trail. Elizabeth hazarded a glance back at McKay, who was right behind her. "Rodney, I can't believe you didn't want to come back here. This place is lovely."
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not the outdoorsy type," Rodney replied. "Every moment I waste here, I could be doing important work back on Atlantis."
"You know, Rodney, maybe more fresh air would improve your mood," Beckett interjected.
"Very funny," Rodney snapped.
Elizabeth smiled as she carefully picked her way down the trail. Before long the gradient flattened out and widened into what could almost be called a road, enveloped in a canopy of trees.
John looked back at her again and smiled.
Elizabeth returned his smile and looked up at the trees as she followed along silently behind him. Already, she could see hints of what it was about this place that had him enraptured. From the moment she stepped through the gate, Elizabeth felt at ease… relaxed. Her thoughts turned unrealistic. The world itself, it seemed, had a calming air about it.
She smiled as the scenery around her turned agrarian. Cultivated fields lined the path, and small cottages started to appear. She stopped abruptly as John halted in front of her, staring across a large field. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but Elizabeth could swear he was squinting.
"Major?" Elizabeth followed his gaze to a group of Pallans, tending the crops. She glanced back at John who suddenly smiled.
"Pertus!" he called, a wide grin splitting his face.
Elizabeth glanced at Rodney, and did a double take at the smile that covered his face. She grinned slightly and looked away before the doctor noticed her gaze. He'd never admit it, but apparently the Pallans had endeared themselves to more than just Major Sheppard.
Elizabeth once more looked out over the field as a gangly youth raced towards them.
"Major Sheppard!" The boy's high tenor voice reached them. He stumbled hard, but caught himself and continued his headlong dash towards them.
Elizabeth glanced at John who was chuckling.
"Easy Pertus!" he called. "We're not going anywhere!"
Breathless, the boy staggered to a stop in front of John. "Major Sheppard," he repeated.
Elizabeth smiled softly, watching as John reached out and ruffled the boy's hair.
"Where's the flock?" John asked, smiling.
Pertus shrugged. "In the hills somewhere. We send them there for late season grazing. I will go after them in a week or so." He wrinkled his nose. "Right now, I have to help with the harvest." He abruptly looked at Elizabeth and smiled. "I'm Pertus. Who are you?"
Elizabeth grinned at the boy's open, trusting expression. "I'm Elizabeth Weir. You can call me Elizabeth, Pertus." She looked questioningly at Sheppard as Pertus motioned downwards.
John nodded. "Kneel down, Elizabeth, he can't reach you."
Elizabeth arched her brows but knelt before the Pallan boy anyway.
Pertus placed his right hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad to meet you, Elizabeth."
Her diplomatic and cultural skills kicking in, Elizabeth took the boy's cue and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad to meet you, Pertus." She smiled as the youth grinned. She stood as Pertus glanced over his shoulder for a moment before looking back at the team.
His gaze flicked to each of them. "I have to return or father will get mad. You're not going yet, are you?"
"Not yet," Rodney's tone was decidedly martyred as he sighed heavily.
"We will be at Malfan's, Pertus." Teyla smiled and brushed a hand over the boy's cheek.
Pertus' expression brightened. "I'll find you there!" He turned and raced back across the field.
Elizabeth watched him go. "He has so much…."
"Energy." John and Rodney both finished her sentence in unison.
Elizabeth laughed. "Yes." She followed John as he once more walked down the wide path. The cottages became more and more frequent as they made their way into the village itself. She continued following John as he turned off and took a narrow path to a cottage set back from the others.
He stopped in front of the door and looked at her. "Malfan's home." John walked closer to the door. "Malfan? It's John Sheppard!" After a moment, the door opened.
Elizabeth watched as a tall, older man walked out of the cottage, his face dominated by a warm smile.
"John!" Malfan grasped Sheppard's shoulder. "Welcome back."
Elizabeth's gaze switched to John. She smiled slightly at the respect and warmth that she saw in John's expression. In many ways, John Sheppard was a very closed man, and Elizabeth had come to learn that his respect wasn't something John gave freely. Without ever meeting the Pallan elder, Elizabeth found herself immediately trusting him. She returned her gaze to him and smiled openly at his warm expression.
"Malfan?" John said, "I'd like you to meet Dr. Elizabeth Weir. She is the leader of our people. Elizabeth?" John grabbed her attention. "This is Malfan, one of the Pallan elders."
Elizabeth smiled and nodded at Malfan. She arched an eyebrow as the Pallan extended his right hand to her.
"I believe this is the custom for your people, Dr. Weir?"
Elizabeth nodded and gently grabbed his hand. "It is. Please, call me Elizabeth." Drawing on her own diplomatic experience, her encounter with Pertus, and what she'd seen transpire between Sheppard and Malfan, Elizabeth pulled her hand from his grasp and gently grabbed Malfan's shoulder. "I'm glad to meet you, Malfan."
Malfan's smile turned respectful as he returned the gesture. "And I you, Elizabeth." He turned to John. "The supplies are ready. A group of my people are waiting in the village center to take them to the Ring for you."
John looked over his shoulder at Ford. "Lieutenant? You know the routine. Take the Pallans and the supplies back to the gate, dial home and oversee the trade. Find us when you're finished."
"Yes, sir." Ford nodded once and briskly walked back down the path towards the village center.
Malfan turned and gestured through the open doorway. "Please, come in."
Elizabeth smiled briefly at John before she followed Malfan into the cottage. Instantly, she felt at home in the cozy house. She followed Malfan to a large fireplace where a fire was strongly crackling.
"Malfan?" Carson asked as he stopped next to her, "I'd like to see Brianor and the wee one, if I can."
"Of course," Malfan immediately responded. "She has been expecting you."
Elizabeth nodded slightly at Carson. She watched as the doctor crossed to a back room and disappeared through the doorway.
"Elizabeth."
She looked over at Malfan, her gaze slightly questioning.
"Please, be seated. May I offer you food? Drink?" Malfan gestured at a sturdy table on the other side of the room.
Elizabeth nodded. "Some water would be nice, thank you." She took a seat at the table, John sitting right next to her, with Teyla and Rodney settling in opposite, while Malfan went into the kitchen area. She glanced at John, who was smiling smugly. "What?"
He waggled his eyebrows mischievously. "Told you so."
Keeping her expression light, Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "Hmm. You're never going to let this go, are you?"
John grinned and waggled his eyebrows once again, but said nothing.
Elizabeth looked up as Malfan returned, a tray with several stout clay cups in his hands. He set the tray on the table before sitting down at its head. She took a cup, and the rest of the team followed her lead. She took a long sip before she set the cup down and gazed warmly at Malfan. "I wanted to thank you for trading openly and fairly with us, Malfan."
Malfan nodded slowly at her. "The medicines you traded to us are more than fair for a share of our crops. They are very generous. From what your people tell me, they will benefit my people greatly."
"They will," John answered.
Elizabeth looked over her shoulder as Carson emerged from the back room. She raised her eyebrows in question, at which Carson smiled.
"They're fine." Carson stopped and looked down at Malfan. "Both mother and son are healthy."
As if on cue, the back door once again opened and Brianor slowly walked towards them, her son cradled in her arms.
Malfan immediately stood and crossed the room to his daughter. He beamed at her before turning his attention to his grandson. Malfan's expression turned proud. After a long moment, he looked up and directly into Elizabeth's eyes. "Come, Elizabeth, meet my grandson."
Elizabeth hesitated for a moment and smiled at John. Part of her was in awe at the open and trusting nature of the Pallan people. She'd been dubious of John's claims that the Pallans were very different, but now she found herself agreeing with him. "They're amazing," she whispered.
John's expression turned contemplative as he gazed intently at her. "Yes, they are."
She held his eyes for another second before nodding and crossing the room to Malfan and Brianor. The Pallan woman smiled warmly at Elizabeth.
"Brianor, love," Malfan gestured at Elizabeth. "This is Dr. Elizabeth Weir. Elizabeth, my daughter Brianor, and my grandson, Korsef."
Elizabeth smiled at Brianor before looking down at the sleeping infant. "He's beautiful." Her eyes widened slightly as Brianor lifted the infant towards her.
"Would you like to hold him?"
An excited pleasure came over Elizabeth, and she grinned and nodded. Holding out her arms, she carefully took the infant from Brianor and held him close. She gazed down into the peaceful face as a flush of warmth spread through her. With one finger, she shifted the blanket back to get a glimpse of his whole face. Giddiness swept through her, and she laughed quietly as she realized she had been unconsciously rocking back and forth.
Elizabeth felt a presence behind her and turned her head, meeting John's compassionate gaze. He peered over her shoulder at the infant. Feeling another presence, Elizabeth looked over her other shoulder as Rodney also came up behind her and made soft cooing noises. Elizabeth's jaw dropped. Baby noises were the last thing she thought she'd ever hear come from Rodney's mouth.
Catching her incredulous look, Rodney fell silent. He quickly looked at John and Teyla's similar expressions. "What? It's a baby! I'm just making baby noises!"
"Not while they're sleeping!" John hissed back.
"Shh!" Elizabeth quietly chastised both of them. She once again looked down into the sleeping infant's face. A moment of regret took her as her thoughts settled on Simon. They'd planned to someday have children together. Once again, as she had more times than she could count since arriving on Atlantis, she wondered if she'd ever see him again.
Elizabeth carefully handed the child back to Brianor. "Thank you." As the Pallan woman gazed lovingly at her child, Elizabeth stared hard at her. She then looked at Malfan for a moment, meeting his warm gaze with a slight smile, before she once again looked at Brianor. She dwelled on her conversation with John the last time he'd returned from Palla.
"You're always complaining that you never get to go off world, well, now's your chance. Come with us when we go back. Meet them. Get to know them. Then make your decision. Fair enough?"
Her thoughts shifted to the infant… to Simon… to family. In the back of Elizabeth's mind, the dark shadow that was the Wraith threat lingered. Elizabeth pursed her lips and nodded to herself. Reaching inside her coat, she pulled a piece of paper from her interior pocket and held it out to Malfan. "Take this."
His expression questioning, Malfan slowly took the piece of paper. He unfolded it and stared at a row of symbols that crossed it.
"That's the gate address to reach us, Malfan. I want you to contact us if you ever need anything. If there's ever…," she pressed her lips together and stared hard at him, "a problem."
She reached up and removed her headset and slipped it into her pocket. From inside her jacket, she lifted her radio off her belt clip and unplugged the headset from it. She glanced at John, whose eyes widened for a moment before he smiled and nodded slightly. She nodded back before returning her attention to Malfan. She turned off the radio power and held it out to him. "This is a radio. It's a way to talk to us once you dial our gate address." Elizabeth stared hard at Malfan. "It's very, very important that you contact us before you try to come through the gate. We have defenses that protect us from unwelcome visitors. We can lower those defenses and let you in, once we know it's you that has dialed us, but you must contact us before you come through."
Malfan reached out and carefully took the radio from her grasp. "How…?"
John stepped forward. He took the radio from Malfan's hand and pointed at a small button on the top. "This turns it on. Leave it as it is now, unless you need to use it. Turn this," he turned the power knob, "press this," he depressed the call button, " and talk into it." He held the radio up to his mouth. "Lieutenant? How goes the trade?" He let go of the call button and smiled again at Malfan. "Let go of this button and you'll be able to hear what we're saying to you."
"Sir," Ford's voice immediately responded, bringing astounded looks from both Malfan and Brianor. "We're just about done here."
Once again, John lifted the radio. "Copy that. We're at Malfan's house. Come back here when you're done. Sheppard out."
"Yes, sir. Ford out."
John smiled, turned off the radio and handed it back to Malfan. His expression turned sober. "If you or any of your people need us, call us. We'll help you."
Elizabeth captured Malfan's eyes and nodded in agreement. She watched as Malfan's confused expression turned to one of gratitude. He looked at Brianor, whose face mirrored his, before he met Elizabeth's warm gaze again.
"Thank you. My people are indebted to your generosity." His air turned jovial. "You must stay. We are having a celebration tonight in honor of Brianor's child. I would be delighted to have you as guests!"
Elizabeth nodded. It had been so long since any of them had time to relax, and the party sounded inviting. "We'd love to stay, thank you." She was distracted by the slight shake of Brianor's head.
"I must put Korsef to bed for the night first, father."
Malfan smiled. "Of course, love. Join us when you're able." Malfan returned his gaze to the Atlantis team as Brianor walked back to her room. "Come! Let us have an ale or two, and celebrate our friendship!" He quickly headed for the kitchen, trusting that they would follow.
"Eat, drink and be merry?" Rodney asked. "Did anyone happen to see any citrus fruit around here?"
"Relax, Rodney," Carson replied blandly. "I have an eppi pen if ye need it." He was the first to follow the Pallan man, but Rodney was right behind him.
"Oh, that's amusing, Carson! I'll probably keel over and die from anaphylaxis before you figure out how to use it!"
Elizabeth shook her head and chuckled. Teyla's quiet voice grabbed Elizabeth's attention.
"Dr. Weir? I wish to stay behind and visit with Brianor."
Elizabeth nodded. "Of course." She started to follow Beckett and Rodney, John right behind her. After a few steps, Elizabeth felt John's firm grip on her arm. She stopped and turned to face him. Her gaze narrowed at his expression… a cross between relief and gratitude.
"Thanks, Elizabeth." John's voice was quiet but the sincerity was easily heard.
"You're welcome." Her gaze grew quizzical as a small smile pulled at her mouth. "I suppose this is the point where I say you were right?"
John's eyes twinkled with amusement, and mischief touched his expression. "Usually."
Elizabeth arched her eyebrows. "Good. I'm glad you know. Now I don't have to tell you." She turned and walked across the room, the sound of John's quiet chuckles giving her the giggles.
---------------------------
The setting sun warming his back, John took a long pull of his ale. A short distance away, Elizabeth sat at a small, sturdy table talking quietly with a Pallan woman. His gaze settled on her. Her face was relaxed, an easy smile dominating her features as she laughed at something the Pallan woman said. Unable to stop himself, John smiled in response. He hadn't seen her this relaxed in a long time. The burden of leadership had weighed heavily on her, these past months, but then again, it had on them all.
John's smile faded. The low simmer within him of anger and frustration boiled to the surface as he was, once again, assaulted with unwelcome flashbacks.
"Sir… I can't… there's no way I can escape now…."
"Cooper, don't. I'm not leaving you behind. We are both going to get out of here. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, sir."
John drained his cup, ignoring the bite of the robust drink. He leaned back against the tree he stood by and took a deep breath as the ale coursed through his body. The pain… the frustration… the anger that constantly plagued him gave way to the numbing effects of the drink and, deep inside, he felt relief. For the first time since his ordeal, he felt free of his pain, and his spirit cherished the relief… utterly ignoring how he'd achieved it.
He stared down at his empty cup. It took everything he had to resist the urge to find a refill… to have another ale… then another… and another…. A voice whispered to him, seduced him… urged him to take that path… to find that relief from pain….
He shook his head and stood up straight. He turned and faced the setting sun. He'd endured many things in his life – the deaths of his mother and his two best friends, his estrangement with his father –but never had he considered drowning any of it in drink. It was an alien feeling to him, and in many ways scared the hell out of him.
He closed his eyes, letting the sun warm his face. He willed himself to relax, allowing at least that much of the ale's effect to help him. A voice behind him grabbed his attention.
"You seem preoccupied, Major." A nearly empty cup of ale in his hand, Malfan came up next to John. "Is the celebration not to your liking?"
John flashed Malfan a reassuring smile. "No, the party is great. It's exactly what we needed."
Malfan smiled. "Then why do you not join us, my friend?"
John sighed. "I have a lot on my mind, Malfan. I have to watch out for my people, find a way to protect them…." His voice trailed off. John knew his excuse was a weak one, but it was all he could come up with.
"I see." Malfan nodded as he sipped his ale. "The burden of leadership is a heavy burden to carry alone, John. I look at my people, and wish there was something I could do to save them from the Wraith." He smiled and nodded at John. "Your offer to help is generous to say the least. It brings much peace to my mind."
John nodded back, before returning his gaze to the horizon.
"Have you lost anyone to the Wraith, John?"
Malfan's question assaulted John's self control. He stiffened and pursed his lips, fighting to suppress the wave of negative emotions that flowed over him. "Yes." He glanced at Malfan, who nodded.
"I lost my wife to a Wraith culling when Brianor was but a child. It is a loss that I have never forgotten… but one I learned to live with."
John nodded silently, his tumultuous mind really not accepting the Pallan's words. He sighed and looked at Malfan as the Pallan elder turned to face him.
"You must put your loss behind you John. Never forget it…. Do not try to forget it. But do not let it rule your life."
John's gaze narrowed. Wisdom, understanding and warmth all permeated Malfan's words, and blanketed his expression. Slowly, John nodded.
Malfan's thoughtful expression gave way to a relaxed smile. "Come now, we have much to celebrate, my friend."
Malfan's happiness was infectious and John found himself smiling in return. He felt Malfan's hand on his arm and allowed himself to be guided back to the party. As they passed a nearby table, Malfan discarded his empty cup and grabbed two mugs of ale. He pushed one into John's hand.
"For Brianor and my grandson." Malfan took a long sip of ale.
John smiled. Only a few minutes before, he'd denied himself another ale, but now he felt content to join the Pallan elder in his salute. This time, the warmth of the Pellan people filled his heart, and the thought of Brianor and the new life of her child gave him reason to celebrate. He smiled, tipped his mug at Malfan and drank.
"Major Sheppard!"
John turned his head at the adolescent voice hailing him. His smile broadened as Pertus made his way through the crowd of people. "Pertus," John grinned down at the boy, "having fun?"
"Yes!" Pertus beamed, "I usually have to be sleeping by now, but tonight father let me stay awake." He eyed Sheppard's mug. "Can I have some?"
John arched his brows. Not sure of Pallan society's rules regarding alcohol, he looked to Malfan for guidance.
Malfan's expression sobered slightly. "No. Pertus, you know better. Major Sheppard does not know our ways. It is wrong for you to ask him because of it."
Pertus chewed on his lower lip for a moment, before looking hesitantly at Sheppard. "I am sorry."
John smiled. "It's okay." He nodded towards the center of the celebration. "Go on, have fun."
Pertus again grinned widely, the moment's hesitation lost. Without another word he turned and ran off, rapidly disappearing into the crowd.
John chuckled as the boy vanished.
"I am sorry, John. He should not have asked you."
John shook his head and cocked an amused brow at Malfan. "It's okay. I did the same kind of thing when I was his age." He chuckled again, as Malfan's quiet laugh joined in.
"As did I," Malfan admitted. He clinked his mug against John's. "To youth!"
John took a long sip, the lightness in his heart at Pertus' childhood innocence lingering.
"John!"
A light female voice behind him caught John's attention. He turned around and smiled at Brianor. Her face was slightly flushed and expression giddy as she extended her hand to him.
"Dance with me, John!" Brianor confidently grabbed John's hand and pulled him towards a large open area where other couples were already dancing to a fast, springy tune.
John resisted, but Brianor kept pulling on his hand insistently. He glanced at Malfan who just chuckled. "Uh… I don't…," John started, his voice trailing off as Malfan pushed him in a not-so-gentle manner.
"You may as well say yes, John, for my daughter has never taken no for an answer!" Malfan laughed loudly.
The joyous mood around him was infectious and John chuckled before raising his hand at Brianor. "Now wait a minute, I don't…," his voice trailed off as an undeterred Brianor interrupted him.
"I will teach you. It is not hard. Now dance with me!" She emphasized her words with a strong pull on John's arm.
John still resisted. He looked in almost a pleading manner at Malfan, but the Pallan man just smiled and shook his head in a very 'you're on your own' manner.
"Go, man!" Malfan shouted, his words coming between loud chuckles. "Dance!"
John couldn't resist the happy mood that surrounded him and followed the path of ale that surged through him. He shook his head in resignation, his chuckles joining the laughter that surrounded him. "Okay, okay! Just… wait a minute!" John waved at Ford, who crossed over to them.
"Sir?" Ford looked around.
John's gaze momentarily narrowed at the slight glassy look to Ford's eyes. Sheppard glanced down at the half-full mug in the young Lieutenant's hand. "Just how many of those have you had, Lieutenant?"
Ford's mouth split into a wide, toothy smile. "Only a couple, sir."
John arched a mock-serious eyebrow at Ford. "Lieutenant, I'm not carrying you back to the gate."
"Of course not!" Malfan interrupted loudly. "We will!" His words brought a round of rousing laughter from anyone in earshot of the conversation.
Brianor once again tugged on John's arm. "John! Enough talk! Dance with me now!"
Sheppard reached up and unclipped his P-90 before handing it off to Ford. "Hold this for me, Lieutenant."
Ford took the proffered weapon with his free hand. "Yes, sir. Have fun."
John arched an eyebrow as he watched the dancers whirl quickly around the open dance space, their feet moving in what seemed like an intricate pattern. As he looked back at Ford, John's expression turned dubious. "Yeah, right."
"Enough talk!" Without letting go of John's hand, Brianor reached out and grabbed his other one, pulling John towards the dancers. "It is a simple dance, John, I will show you."
John fidgeted uncomfortably. "I'm not much of a dancer, Brianor…," he again protested, but she shook her head at him insistently.
"Nonsense! You just need practice." She stepped close to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Put your hands on my waist, John."
John slowly reached out, his hands unconsciously tightening on her soft waist. He resisted the urge to pull her close, and focused his attention on her feet.
Brianor smiled. "Now watch. It is easy." She slowly worked through the dance step and then once again smiled at him. "You try."
John duplicated her steps twice. As he started for the third time, Brianor joined him.
"Faster!" She pulled him further into the dance area as they quickened their step.
John grinned openly at Brianor's smiling face and his feet unconsciously fell into a pattern as they spun around the dance area. The step really was easy, he realized. He arched his eyebrows mischievously at her and again quickened the pace.
Brianor laughed lightly and kept pace with him.
Her laugh was infectious and John laughed with her as he pulled her closer and once again sped up, gratified as she continued to keep pace with him.
"I thought you were not good at dancing!" Brianor's voice was slightly out of breath from exercise and laughter.
John cocked an eyebrow. "I lied."
Brianor laughed loudly and abruptly sped up the pace, forcing John to follow. Momentarily off balance, he quickly regained his pace and met her step for step.
"Who's leading here?" He chuckled at her undaunted expression.
"I am of course!" Brianor immediately responded. As if to prove her point, she pulled him to the right.
Unfortunately, John had the same idea and simultaneously pulled her left. The battle of wills unbalanced both of them, and his grip tightened on her as their feet tangled and he felt himself falling backwards. Twisting his body, he pulled her on top of him, cushioning her fall as they both tumbled to the ground. For an intense moment, the laughter that surrounded them was lost to him as he stared into her eyes. Her face scant inches from his and her warm, soft body resting on top of him, he was acutely aware of the effect the strong Pallan woman was having on him. From the peculiar look on her face, he knew Brianor had the same realization.
Abruptly, she laughed lightly and pushed herself off of him, breaking the spell of the moment. Uncalled-for desire within John turned to giddiness as his laughter joined hers and everyone else's.
They both slowly stood, amidst the laughter and good-natured barbing that surrounded them. After a moment, the musicians struck up a new tune and John nodded at the predictable one, two, three beat of the music. He smiled and grabbed Brianor's hand. "My turn." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "But you have to let me lead."
Brianor laughed and nodded. "All right."
John lifted her hand to his shoulder. He took her other hand and held it within his as he wrapped his free arm around her, placing his hand in the small of her back. Tightening his grip slightly, he pulled her closer to him.
Slowly, he started off in a waltz step, holding her firmly as she struggled to follow his lead. Her struggle was short lived, as her agility enabled her to catch on to the rhythmic step very quickly. Before long, John was leading her around the dance space in a relaxed waltz.
"You can dance." Brianor smiled warmly.
John grinned and nodded. "It's a little known fact about John Sheppard." He pulled his eyes from her gaze and looked around. To his surprise, he noticed that somewhere along the way, a Pallan man had brought Elizabeth to the dance, and another had coaxed Teyla into participating. A short brunette Pallan woman had somehow roped even Ford, with two P-90's hanging from his vest, into a dance. John's eyes widened as Carson Beckett breezed by, agilely leading a redhead woman through the crowd of dancers. John's gaze settled on the last hold out. Standing off to the side, Rodney was shaking his head emphatically at two Pallan women, who were giggling and nodding. John chuckled and returned his attention to Brianor. "McKay doesn't stand a chance, does he?"
Brianor looked over her shoulder at the scene and laughed quietly. "No. He has already lost."
True to her word, it was only a minute more before one of the Pallan women, a medium-height blonde, pulled Rodney into the dance space.
John stared into Brianor's eyes as they continued across the floor. The dance ended and Brianor stepped back from him. "I think I will take a walk. Will you join me, John?"
John smiled and nodded. "Sure. Just a second." He crossed the wide space to Ford and gestured at his P-90. "Thanks for watching it, Lieutenant."
Ford unclasped the weapon from his vest and surrendered it to John. "Made for interesting dancing, sir."
John chuckled as he attached the gun to his own vest and let it hang. "I'll bet." He turned and walked back to Brianor, the easy relaxed smile on his face spreading its effect through his body. It had been a long time since he'd felt this at ease, especially since….
John shook his head, dismissing the thoughts that tried to blanket him in dark emotions. Vaguely, the murmur of fear and anger whispered to him, but John pushed it away. He stopped in front of Brianor. "Ready?"
Brianor's smile faded slightly as she gave his P-90 a long stare, before she looked into his eyes. She kept a slight smile and nodded. "Yes."
John walked easily beside the Pallan woman as she led him across a large, moonlit field. He felt dampness on his feet from the first signs of dew already touching the night-time grass.
"Do you always carry your weapon, John?"
Brianor's question surprised him. John nodded, his actions nearly invisible in the moon-dappled night. "Whenever I'm off Atlantis, yes."
"I see," Brianor answered. "Do you feel you are in danger here?"
John's right hand unconsciously came to rest on his 9 mil. "Not at the moment, no." He walked on with her in silence for several minutes before Brianor spoke again.
"You have met the Wraith."
Her unquestioning statement caught him off guard, and John stiffened slightly as he fought away memories. "More than I'd ever want to." His voice was quiet as he tried to keep his tone neutral. It was a vain effort as Brianor stopped and faced him. He turned towards her and stared evenly back. Acutely aware of her light scent, he pulled in a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly.
"My mother was taken when I was very young. I have precious few memories of her," Brianor stated quietly. "I see so many of my people who have suffered the same losses as me… and so many of them whose lives are ruined because they cannot let it go."
John stepped back from her, a strong need to isolate himself… to keep from being exposed coursing through him. "Why are you telling me this?"
Brianor took a step towards him, refusing to let John back away. "Because I see loss in your eyes, John. I hear it in your voice, and see it in your actions." She took another step, closing the distance between them to mere inches.
Mesmerized by her closeness, John couldn't pull away. He stared back at her knowing gaze, barely visible in the twilight. His breath caught in his throat as Brianor reached up and gently stroked his cheek.
"Do not let loss ruin you, John," she whispered.
John felt her words… her caring… her compassion sink to the very core of his spirit. He swallowed and pulled in a ragged breath, as words escaped him. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and pulled her against him. He winced as his P-90 bit into his gut, and hastily pulled it aside, replacing the uncompromising hardness of the gun with the soft touch of flesh. Her warm, yielding body melted into his, and for a moment, he let his cheek rest against her smooth hair. He reached up and gently cupped the back of her head with one hand as he pulled back and looked into her eyes.
Even in the near darkness, he saw in her gaze the same passion and desire he knew was in his. Slowly, he leaned forward and kissed her lightly. Again, he pulled back, heat swelling within him, as she reached up and ran her hands through his short hair.
John continued to hold her head as his other arm tightened around her waist. Leaning forward, he kissed her again, this time more confidently… a confidence she returned. Deepening the kiss, he pulled her as close to him as he could as her lips parted and her tongue lightly sparred with his. He returned the favor, the rush of passion surging through him. He lived in the moment, the thought of Wraith, of anger… of frustration lost to the warm haze of desire.
Abruptly, Brianor stiffened and quickly pulled back. John let her go, but stared questioningly at her as he panted slightly. "What is it?" His gaze narrowed as she swallowed hard, her own breathing rapid.
"I… I am sorry. I just… I can't…."
John's feelings abruptly turned from desire to compassion as he grabbed one of her hands and enfolded it in his grasp. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.
Brianor reached up with her other hand and rested it on top of his. "It has only been a few months since my husband died. I felt… panicked." Her face twisted into a grimace as she tried to make sense of what she was feeling. She looked away from him.
John brought his free hand up to embrace hers as he sighed deeply. "Brianor, look at me." He waited for a long moment, before the Pallan woman finally met his gaze. He smiled at her tenderly and gave her his best understanding expression. "It's okay. I won't pressure you into something you don't want."
"No," Brianor immediately protested. "I do want it… you. It is just too fast… too soon."
John reached up and ran his thumb over her cheek tenderly. "It's okay," he repeated. "We can take this as slow as you want." He felt her hand, cradled within his strong grasp, tighten on his.
"I am sorry," she whispered.
John smiled tenderly. "Don't be." He moved his hand around to her back, and wrapped both arms around her. Silently, he pulled her into a warm embrace. He closed his eyes as he felt her soft check meet his, and her gentle breath ruffling the hair around his ear while he quietly stroked her head. Vaguely, he felt the bite of his P-90 in his hip, but he paid it no heed. Content to hold her as long as she needed, he stood rooted in place, his grasp on Brianor never weakening.
---------------------------------
John sighed as he watched Ford stumble again. The young lieutenant wasn't exactly drunk…but he wasn't exactly sober either. "Take it easy, Ford," John commented as he struggled to keep a smile from his face.
"Yes, sir."
Ford's preoccupied response only made John smile more widely. He glanced at Elizabeth, who walked easily beside him. "Lightweight," John muttered. He grinned as Elizabeth giggled quietly.
"Be nice, he's young," she responded.
"I have a feeling I'm going to be handing out a lot of aspirin in the morning," Carson interjected as he fell into step on the other side of Weir.
John leaned forward slightly and looked at the Scottish doctor. Even in the darkness he could just make out Carson's hand rubbing his temple. John smiled. "With the first half dozen going to you?"
Carson sighed loudly. "Aye, and the second going to Ford." He looked over at John. "You won't be far behind, Major."
John cocked an eyebrow but refused to reply. He sighed. "Bates is going to have kittens we're so late." Deftly, he changed the subject.
"It's not like he doesn't know we're fine," Rodney interjected. "He's already called and checked in…."
"Twice." John rolled his eyes before chuckling.
"Right." Rodney's face scrunched up. "Huh, why do I only remember his grating voice calling once?"
Sheppard arched an eyebrow at Rodney, an action that was lost in the late night darkness. "Maybe because Ford isn't the only lightweight around here?"
"Very funny," Rodney muttered.
"Or it was the pretty blonde Pallan woman that distracted him?" Elizabeth joined into the good-natured barbing.
John had to visualize Rodney's annoyed expression, but his irritated sigh came through loud and clear.
"Fine. What is this? Make fun of McKay night?"
"You're not alone, McKay," Ford responded as he slowly, and deliberately, stepped over a large tree root in the path.
"I have you for company?" Rodney snapped. "Oh, that gives me great comfort." Quickening his pace, Rodney caught up with Ford, leaving John, Carson and Elizabeth to bring up the rear.
"Where did you learn to waltz?" Elizabeth glanced at John, her voice holding a note of surprise.
John chuckled. "Are you kidding? With a father who was career military? With all the formal and state balls dad went to. I learned at a young age. Yet another useless piece of trivia you know about me."
Elizabeth giggled. "Makes sense, when you put it that way. I just never pictured you the waltzing type."
"Well, don't get used to it, Matilda." John glanced at Elizabeth, smiling slightly at her relaxed expression. "Still, this was just what we needed."
Elizabeth's sigh was content. "Yes, definitely. We have to do this more often." She reached up and rubbed her own temples. "Except without the ale."
John chuckled. "I take it the third dose of aspirin will be going to you?"
Elizabeth glanced at him. "I though that was yours?"
John's chuckled deepened. "Not a chance. I don't get hangovers. Never have."
"You've got to be kidding me." Elizabeth sighed.
"Nope." John smiled broadly as she quickened her pace and walked out in front of him. She quickly caught up with Teyla, leaving John walking next to Carson. John reached up and rubbed his face. His coat sleeve passed close to his nose, and he paused as he caught a whiff of Brianor's lingering scent. He slowly dropped his arm, and sighed deeply as his body remembered her touch. He could feel her soft hair, her warm body, and her gentle kiss. Desire rose within him and he suddenly felt the need for a cold shower.
"Major?"
Carson's voice snapped John from his thoughts. "Yeah?"
"You're awfully quiet. Are you sure you don't get hangovers?"
John smiled. "Positive. Sorry, Doc. Just lost in my thoughts for a minute there."
"No problem." Carson was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "You and Brianor vanished for a while. Where did you two get off to?" he asked, innocently.
John arched an eyebrow at the doctor's casual question. "We went for a walk."
"Ah, I see. A walk."
Silence again descended between the two men, and for that John was grateful. He wasn't prepared to discuss his relationship with Brianor. Hell, before tonight, he didn't even know there was one.
"Lovely perfume the Pallan woman have," Carson broke the silence again. "Sarina? The girl I was dancing with? She was wearing it. She said that most Pallan women wear it for special occasions."
John swallowed hard as a flush crept up his neck. "Really?" he answered.
"Aye," Carson responded knowingly. "You, uh… may want to wash your coat, Major. The scent is all over it."
John was grateful it was so dark, otherwise the flush that raced over his entire face would've been painfully visible to the doctor. "Thanks… I will." John rubbed his neck self-consciously. "Doc…."
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," Carson interrupted. "Although with the way you two disappeared for a while, I'd imagine it's not as much of a secret as you think it is."
An embarrassed knot formed in John's stomach. "Damn," he muttered. "Elizabeth?" Even through the darkness, John could sense Carson's grin.
"Aye, she knows. She didn't say it in so many words, but she knows." Carson chuckled.
"Damn," John repeated.
"Major," Carson's tone sobered slightly, "no one begrudges you the right, least of all Elizabeth."
"I don't want her to think my reasons for giving the Pallans a radio and our address are strictly personal. I mean they are, the Pallans are amazing, but not personal personal…."
"Major," Carson once again interrupted, "Elizabeth knows you too well to ever think that."
John smiled, his apprehension slowly melting away. "Thanks, Doc."
"Sure." Carson fell behind John as the trail narrowed and they started up the last, steep incline to the gate.
John winced as he heard the emphatic, whispered, cussing of Ford, accompanied by a quiet crash of bushes as the slightly inebriated Lieutenant stumbled in the darkness. John stifled a chuckle. "You okay, Ford?"
"Yes, sir," Ford's irritated voice responded.
"I'm fine too, thanks for asking!" Rodney interjected. "No thanks to this half-drunk idiot."
"Shut up, McKay! You tripped first!" Ford shot back.
"Okay, that's enough you two." John sighed.
"I will make sure they do not hurt themselves." Teyla looked back at John for a moment, before she quickened her pace to catch up with Ford and Rodney.
Before long, John stepped out of the trees into the small plateau clearing that surrounded the gate. He waved at Rodney. "Dial it up." He glanced at Elizabeth and smiled. "You're going to hate yourself in the morning," he grinned.
Elizabeth glared at him, her expression plain in the glow from the shimmering wormhole. "Shut up, Major."
John's grin turned to a chuckle as he followed her through the Stargate.
------------------------------------
John briskly ascended the steps to the command deck, his eyes scanning for Elizabeth. He stopped next to one of the Ancient consoles and continued looking around. "Where's Dr. Weir?"
Peter Grodin, never taking his eyes from the computer he was working on, gestured vaguely in the direction of the exterior door. "Out there. She needed some air…."
John arched an amused eyebrow at the preoccupied doctor. "Thanks." He walked to the door, tapped the control crystal and stepped out onto the Deck. He stopped and stared at Elizabeth's back as the door closed behind him. He crossed his arms and smiled smugly. "How's the head?"
Elizabeth turned and looked at him for a moment, her gaze narrowing. "How would you like to go back to M55-821 for reconnaissance?" she asked, naming the planet they'd recently visited with conditions that made the Sahara look like a garden spot.
John arched both brows. "Point taken. You wanted to see me?"
Weir smiled at him. "Yes."
John pursed his lips at the hesitation he saw in her expression. "What is it?"
Elizabeth's smile deepened. "Nothing as bad as you think. I have a favor to ask."
John casually strolled across the Deck. He nonchalantly rested one arm on the railing and stared evenly back at her. "Okay, what?" He watched her lean back against the railing.
"You know that Drs Hastings and Schluter are slated to join Bates and Stackhouse's teams."
John nodded. "I read the report. What's the favor?" His gaze narrowed at her hesitant expression. "Why do I think I'm not going to like this?"
Elizabeth smiled sheepishly. "Well, they've never really been off world. I want them to get their feet wet on something safe before they start going on new missions with the teams."
John sighed. "Elizabeth…."
"Now, I know how much you hate babysitting scientists, John, but your Pallan missions are perfect for them to get a taste of going off world," Elizabeth rushed on. "Besides," she smiled, "you owe me a favor or two."
The humor disappeared from John's face as his mind barely registered her words. His thoughts raced as he looked out over the ocean. The last " "routine" mission he'd taken two scientists on… one to explore the last Lagrangian Point Satellite, preoccupied him. Both those men had died on that "safe" mission. The small whisper of reason, which always tried to talk sense into him, once again insisted that she was right, and that he wasn't thinking clearly, but John paid it no heed. He stood up straight and met Elizabeth's puzzled look. "It isn't safe."
Elizabeth's puzzled expression intensified. "What?"
John pushed away from the railing and walked across the Deck. A dozen paces away, he turned and faced her. "We know from Teyla's contacts that sector of the galaxy is actively being culled right now. At any time, we could step through the gate to Palla and meet up with the Wraith." He stared intently back at her as Elizabeth remained silent. He sighed as, after a long minute, she slowly shook her head. "What?" John asked. Elizabeth stared at him, her perceptive gaze making John fidget in spite of himself. "What?" he repeated.
"I thought I was the cautious one," she replied quietly. "Just last night you threw caution to the wind and celebrated with the Pallans. We all did. And now this? Since when did you become so wary?"
Defensiveness boiled up inside him and John's expression turned slightly hostile in response. "I've never been reckless, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth shook her head and crossed the Deck to stand before him. "This isn't reckless. We take the chance of encountering the Wraith every time we step through the gate." She arched her brows. "But that's usually your line, not mine." Her gaze turned worried as she stared into his eyes. "What's happened to you, John?"
John unconsciously pulled away, his mind searching for a reply, all the while backpedaling from her intuitive question. She was right. Puzzled at his own reaction, he pulled in a deep breath and nodded as he soundly quelled the alarmed voice within him. "You're right." His smile was thin and strained as he tried to lighten the mood. "Guess I'm getting paranoid in my old age."
Elizabeth's expression was dubious, but after a moment, she nodded. "It's a mission then?"
"Yeah," John headed for the door. After a couple steps he turned back and arched an eyebrow at her. "But you owe me one."
Elizabeth flashed him a mock-serious look. "Put it on my tab."
----------------
John paused at the foot of the Gateroom stairs, his gaze fixed on the two scientists who stood ready with his team. Once again, doubt and hesitation whispered to him, but John pushed it away. Both men wore side arms – heck, he'd supervised their basic weapons training – but it did nothing to ease his worry. Gaul and Abrams had side arms… Bower and Cooper were soldiers…. John pursed his lips, refusing to give in to the doubt that plagued him. He pulled in a deep breath and crossed the Gateroom. Smiling at the two scientists, he stopped in front of them. "This is a routine trading mission, Doctors. Just a little taste of off-world activities for you." He smiled as the two doctors nodded. Both seemed a bit nervous, so John smiled at them a moment longer.
"Trust me, it's nothing big," Rodney added as he walked up behind John. "So can we please get this over with? Some of us have important things we could be doing!"
John arched a brow at Rodney's irritated gaze. Looking up at the Control room, John tapped his radio call button. "We're ready. Dial it up."
The entire team stepped back as the Stargate hummed to life, each chevron locking in sequentially, before the wormhole flushed into existence. Stepping forward, John led his team through the gate.
Emerging from the wormhole on Palla, John froze. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut as he took in the scene before him.
"Damn," Ford muttered in shock.
John just stared, barely able to breathe. Thick black smoke hung in an ominous haze over the valley, its darkness giving way only to sporadic fires that littered what was once the Pallan village. Large blast holes littered the fields. Even from this distance, he knew Wraith Darts had caused them.
"Oh God," Rodney whispered.
For a moment, John felt rooted in place, unable to move. He swallowed hard, instantly assaulted by uncontrollable memories from M27-194.
"Bower? What's your situation?"
"We were unable to dial out before we were blocked by an incoming wormhole." Bower's tense reply was almost immediately followed by gunfire. "Wraith! Major, we have Wraith coming through the gate."
John could hear Bower's voice in his head, and he closed his eyes against it. But instead of Bower's voice, he saw his prone, dead form.
"They got Bower though…."
John drew in a deep breath, forcing the image away, but like a horrific slide show, the sight of Cooper's dead eyes staring back at him replaced the image of Bower.His mind raced. Brianor….
John shook off the thoughts and forced himself to move. He spun and stared at the shimmering wormhole, his hand flying to his radio. "Atlantis, this is Sheppard. The Wraith have attacked Palla."
"Major? What's your situation?" Weir's voice almost immediately replied.
John looked around at his team. "Stand by." He waved emphatically at them. "Get out of the open, now!" he barked as he knelt by the DHD. He pulled his binoculars from one of his vest pockets and scanned the valley as the rest of his team joined him. "McKay," John whispered, knowing the doctor would know what he wanted.
Rodney pulled out his LSD and punched a few buttons. "Sporadic life signs, but I can't tell if they're Wraith or human. No trace of any energy readings, so no Darts in the area… at least as far as I can tell."
John nodded. "Atlantis, it looks like the Wraith have already left. We're going to shut down the gate and redial you so Drs Hastings and Shluter can return. My team and I will search for survivors."
"Copy that, Major," Weir replied.
"Is Bates' team still on standby?" John lowered his binoculars and squinted at the ruined Pallan village.
"Yes."
"Send them through before we shut down the gate." John shoved his binoculars into his vest pocket. "I want them here to secure the gate while we search for survivors."
"Copy that." Even over the radio, Weir's voice was heavy with concern. "Be careful, Major."
"We will. Sheppard out." He watched the gate as Bates and three soldiers abruptly appeared through the wormhole a second before it disengaged. "Sergeant!" John hissed and waved them over to him, before he looked over his shoulder at Rodney. "Dial Atlantis back." He nodded briefly at Bates, whose gaze was fixed on the devastation. "I need you to secure the gate, Sergeant. Two clicks on the radio and you're free to talk, otherwise maintain radio silence until we know exactly what the status is here."
Bates tore his eyes from the remains of the Pallan village and nodded at John. "Yes, sir."
John grabbed his IDC as Rodney finished dialing Atlantis. He quickly typed his personal code then glanced at Hastings and Schluter, as Weir's voice once again came over his radio.
"Major? The shield is down."
"Copy that." John nodded at Hastings and Schluter. "Okay, go." He watched as the two doctors sprang up and ran for the gate, disappearing through the wormhole. "Atlantis, will advise when we know more. Sheppard out." He nodded at Rodney, who deactivated the gate. "With any luck, any Wraith in the area didn't catch the gate activity," John muttered. He raised an eyebrow at Bates. "Okay, Sergeant. Hold down the fort. We'll be back."
John stared again at the valley. Anger boiled within him. Thoughts of Brianor, her child, Malfan, Pertus… the Pallans assaulted his control, but he turned away from them and smothered the worry and anger with cool professionalism. "I'm on point. Teyla, you're right behind me. McKay, watch that LSD for anything moving anywhere near us. Ford, you bring up the rear, and stay sharp." He stood, and raised his P-90. "Move out."
He trotted off, his team right behind as they quickly made their way down the steep hill to the valley floor. As his feet hit flat ground, he slowed the pace to a cautious walk while he scanned back and forth around their position. He pursed his lips, struggling against his anger as he stared at the broken remains of the canopy of trees that had once encompassed the trail. Only a few days ago, he'd walked this path… admired the trees… found solitude in the beauty. The Wraith had destroyed Palla and with it, all shreds of peace he had within him. Stoic, John swallowed hard. As much as he pulled on his professionalism, tried to distance himself from the devastation… tried to be rational, he couldn't get the Pallans off his mind. He couldn't detach himself from Malfan, from Brianor, from her infant… from Pertus. John's grip on his P-90 turned white knuckled; the only outward sign of the massive turmoil within him. With cruel clarity, he remembered his moonlit walk with Brianor, the soft feel of her body against his… her lips meeting his. John took a deep breath and forced himself to concentrate.
It didn't take long for them to find the first casualty. John paused, his lips twitching as he fought to control his anger.
Lying across the pathway were the wilted remains of a Pallan man. Young or old, it was impossible to tell, for the Wraith had fed long on him, and all that remained was a withered shell.
John once again looked down the path and started forward. "Keep moving," he muttered.
It wasn't the last victim they encountered. Numerous casualties greeted them as they continued towards the village. Each time, John's heart would jump, dreading the moment where he would recognize one of his friends, though it was impossible to distinguish one from another. John wasn't sure what was worse: not knowing, or knowing for sure.
"I thought the Wraith took people back to their Hive ships to feed on or preserve for later," Ford whispered as they passed yet another dead Pallan.
"As did I," Teyla responded. "I have never heard of them feeding on so many during a culling."
"Whatever the reason," John hissed, "let's make sure no one needs our help." They walked around yet another victim. John swallowed hard, as his spite for the Wraith redoubled.
They passed the scorched fields, the gaping holes from Dart fire still smoldering. Village houses were either burned to the ground or had been blown apart. But anything that had burned still smoldered.
John stopped in his tracks, an odd-shaped mound just off the road catching his attention. He slowly walked up to it and looked down. He blanched as he stared at the mutilated remains of one of Pertus' sheep. Not far away, several others were in similar condition. Cold fear gripped his heart as he looked around, searching for Pertus, all the while hoping urgently that he wouldn't find the boy. Within him, a voice of desperation pushed him to call out for Pertus, but John resisted… fought back… and barely kept control.
"Pertus," Rodney whispered, his voice cracking.
"I don't see him," John answered quietly. "Come on." He slowly walked down the path his even steps faltering as he ventured close to a smoldering house.
"Major, I'm not reading any life…." Rodney's voice trailed off at the Major's hard gaze.
"I don't care." John kicked at some debris as he waded through the twisted rubble. Abruptly, he stopped, grimacing, as he encountered the burned remains of the house's occupant. He reached down and pulled some rubble over the victim's body, doing his best to cover it. He turned away and stared hard at his team.
"Be burned alive, or die at the hands of the Wraith." Again, Rodney's voice cracked. "What a choice."
"Move on." John abruptly walked past them and continued down the path.
He stopped in his tracks and stared at the smoldering remains of Malfan's house. Memories of the warm, welcoming cottage flooded through him and he clenched his jaw in anger. He glanced at Teyla, his anger momentarily giving way to sympathy as he watched a tear make its way down her stoic face.
Pulling in a shuddering breath, Teyla walked forward, her gaze fixed on the ruins.
John glanced at Rodney, his gaze questioning.
Rodney looked down at the LSD, then back to John. He slowly shook his head.
John fought the knot in his gut and the thoughts of Brianor that refused to be controlled. He slowly walked up behind Teyla, who stood before what once was the front door of Malfan's house. "Teyla?"
Teyla turned and wiped a quick hand across her cheek. "We must make sure there are no survivors that need our help." She briskly walked by him and away from what was left of Malfan's house, and down the path towards the next set of houses.
John glanced at Ford and jerked his head towards Teyla.
Ford nodded and followed her.
John watched them walk away for a moment, and then turned back to the ruins. Something pulled him towards the house… forced him to face the reality he wanted so much to deny. He walked forward, absently kicking at some charred wood. His mind rebelled… refused to believe what he was seeing… desperately clung to what he wanted to be true, when something caught his eye. His gaze narrowed as he squatted and lifted a blackened piece of rubble. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes widened in horror, before sliding shut against the image.
Lying before him was the husk of what was once a Pallan woman. Withered, charred and distorted, there was still no mistaking the features of Brianor… and next to her was what could only be the remains of her infant child.
John's face contorted in horror and he gasped loudly. His breath hissed through his teeth as he struggled to quell his nausea at what he'd seen. Gagging, John coughed violently. He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth before lowering the rubble back over Brianor's remains. "God damn it!" he choked.
"Major?" Rodney walked towards him, only to halt at John's shaking, raised hand.
He forced himself to inhale one shuddering breath, and then another, before he stood and stared out across the desolate fields. His emotions in turmoil, no amount of professionalism could detach him from the feelings that surged through him. Helpless against the horrors of a Culling, the Pallan people had been wiped from existence by the Wraith without a second thought. Anger surged through John, and he felt cold spite grip his heart. He glanced back at the covered body. Brianor had been young… vibrant… full of life, just like Cooper… and, just like Cooper, the Wraith had ended that life in the most horrifying way imaginable.
But beyond that, they'd stolen life from her infant child… a long life the child had been entitled to. John dropped his head. He could still feel the infant's warm body in his arms, the movement... the life. He could still see the child in his mind... feel the surge of protection he'd had for the newborn. John squeezed his eyes shut, surrendering to the stressful twitch that pulled on his mouth, but still fighting the lump in his throat and the way his eyes filled. Defending the innocent had been a large part of his life, but he'd arrived too late… too late to help Brianor and the Pallan people. Once again, he was helpless to do anything.
Unbidden, images of Cooper being fed upon flashed through his mind. He could hear the Corporal's agonized screams, see the pain in his face… feel the helplessness at watching him die. Cooper… Bower… now Brianor… her child… Malfan… Pertus… the Pallans….
His sense of self-control pushed at his emotions, insisting on conquering them. It was an internal struggle that left him motionless for a minute, before his control won over.
Finding the will to move again, John slowly walked back to Rodney, who stared at him questioningly.
Stoic, John gazed hard at the doctor for a moment. "Brianor and her child," he whispered, watching as Rodney noticeably paled.
"Why… why didn't they call us?" Rodney croaked, his gaze locked on the burned cottage.
John struggled to think straight as he tried to find an answer to Rodney's question. "Happened too fast," he muttered. "They… never had a chance."
He started down the path towards a distant Ford and Teyla. After a few steps, he stopped and looked back at a motionless Rodney. "McKay?" He waited until the doctor slowly turned and faced him. "Come on, there might be some survivors."
Rodney nodded once and walked towards him.
John lifted his gun and resumed his course towards the main path.
"Major, I'm reading life forms." Rodney's words stopped John in his tracks.
"Where?" John scanned the area around them.
"Near Ford and Teyla," Rodney muttered. "They could be Pallan survivors…."
"Or Wraith," John finished. He reached up and tapped his radio call button, as he quickly started down the path towards Teyla and Ford, Rodney hot on his heels. "Ford? McKay is picking up life readings near you. Stay sharp and hold your position. We're coming to join you."
"Yes, sir," Ford immediately responded.
John jogged down the path. Adrenaline surged through him, momentarily blanketing all emotion. As he passed around the remains of a cottage, he froze, his P-90 instantly coming to bear. "LOOK OUT!" John's grip tightened on the gun's trigger as he immediately fired on four Wraith.
Hidden from Ford and Teyla's view by the burned rubble of a cottage, the Wraith were in plain sight of John and Rodney as they rounded the corner. John ducked behind some debris as stunner fire hit the ground next to him. He abruptly stood and fired, concentrating his shots on one guard, while Rodney emptied a 9 mm clip into another. Both men ducked behind the wall as stunner fire once more struck around them. John glanced at Rodney, as the doctor reloaded.
Gunfire caught John's attention, and he risked a quick look from around the edge of the rubble.
Alerted by John's shout and the gunfire, Teyla and Ford had strategically repositioned themselves in a place where, between the four of them, they could catch the Wraith in crossfire.
John looked at Rodney and nodded. At once, both stood and fired again on the Wraith, while Teyla and Ford ducked stunner fire. The last guard fell, leaving only the unarmed male, who stood defiantly, hissing at his fallen comrades.
Holding his P-90 close, John risked a glance at Rodney. The doctor ejected his second clip and looked at John questioningly.
Never taking his eyes off the Wraith, John reached down with his free hand, pulled one of his 9-mil clips and handed it to Rodney.
"Thanks," Rodney muttered, before reloading his gun.
John stepped out from behind the rubble, Rodney right beside him, and approached the Wraith. From across the way, Teyla and Ford joined him.
As he passed the downed Wraith guards, John fired a couple shots into their heads for good measure. The Wraith male grabbed for one of the stunners, only to be propelled to the ground by several shots from John's P-90. John held the gun close and glared at the Wraith, daring him to try for the stunner again, until at last, he stood over the Wraith male.
John slowly lifted his hand and tapped the call button on his radio twice.
Bates immediately answered. "Major?"
"Dial Atlantis. We have a live Wraith in custody."
"Yes, sir."
John stared motionless at the Wraith, who returned the cold gaze. After a moment, Weir's voice came over his radio.
"Major, do you have control of the situation?"
"Yes," John bit off his reply. "We have him."
"Copy that," Weir responded. "Bring him back for questioning, Major."
John's gaze narrowed. The Wraith seemed fit, healthy… like he'd just fed. John felt his rage returning. "Elizabeth…." His voice trailed off.
"Bring him back, Major," Weir repeated, her tone commanding.
"Copy that. Have another team ready in the Gateroom. I want extra security when we bring this bastard through."
"Will do, Major, Weir out."
The Wraith's expression was purely spiteful, his breath punctuated by quiet hisses. "What… will you do now, human? I will tell you nothing!"
John glared back. His mind tortured him, played cruel tricks... gave him images he didn't need. John could see the Wraith… this Wraith, feeding on the Pallan people, on Brianor... on her child. "I've half a mind to kill you here and now," he spat.
"Major, but Dr. Weir said…," Ford started, only to be interrupted by the Wraith.
"If you kill me now, human, the others will see to your demise," the Wraith snarled.
Already falling victim to his surging hate, the Wraith's words rocked John and assaulted his self control to the very core of his being. Outwardly, he stared evenly back, but inside, his emotions surged. Unbidden, images of the Wraith Lord came back to him.
"Kill me now, Human. The others will see to your demise."
"No sir!" Cooper pleaded. "Don't tell them anything!"
"Cooper!" John watched in horror as the young Corporal turned old… his life drained by the Wraith.
John watched as life fled from Cooper's eyes. Vacant and dead, Cooper's lifeless eyes stared back….
Fear… anger… helplessness surged through John. Breathing hard, he was caught in the turmoil of his emotions, powerless to stop the images, the feelings, the torment that rushed through him. He felt Brianor's child warm... safe... protected in his grasp... Brianor enfolded in his strong arms, her breath warm and gentle on his neck, her soft lips caressing his. Cruelly, his images turned violent. He couldn't turn his mind's eye away from seeing the infant dead in the burned out remains of Malfan's cottage, Brianor at the baby's side. He saw Wraith with stunners hunting the Pallan people... then one Wraith, with one stunner.…
"Tell me anything... and I will spare you."
John's grip on his P-90 shook. His arms felt heavy as he slowly lowered the weapon, memories of his torture flooding over him. He felt the agony… the torment… the breath stolen from his body. Sweat popped up on his brow as his mind, in some sick sense, forced him to relive his torture again and again….
"Major?"
Ford's voice snapped John from his flashbacks… but the images stuck with him… the emotions plagued him… the feelings drove him. He fixed the Wraith with a cold and malicious glare.
"Sir, what is it?"
Surprise dominated Ford's voice but John ignored the Lieutenant. Wordlessly, he crossed the gap between himself and the Wraith. Stopping, he looked down into the Wraith's eyes as he slowly pulled his sidearm from its holster.
"Major, what are you doing?"
Rodney inched closer, but John ignored him too. His mind a victim of horrifying and uncalled upon memories, images that tore at his sanity... feelings that drowned his control... he took the only path his tortured mind thought was open to him.
With one smooth motion, he lifted his gun and fired four shots into the Wraith's head.
"Sir!" Ford shouted, his outcry too late.
Still silent, John stared down at the dead Wraith as he holstered his gun. Abruptly, he turned and headed for the gate.
"Let's go."
-------------------------
He felt numb, his feet automatically finding the path as he quickly stalked away from his stunned team and headed towards the gate. He pulled in a deep breath, the strong scent of acrid smoke fueling his anger. A small part of him was unbelieving, shocked at what he'd done, but it was lost to a tidal wave of anger, a persistent... inescapable rage.
It was the rage he hated the most... that confounded him the most… that scared him the most. He'd never had rage against anything before... at least not in such a way that he couldn't control it. But here it had been overwhelming. Rage had crashed through his barriers of self-control, and powered his actions. Rage had controlled him... driven him and swept him up in its passionate rush.
John's grip on his P-90 tightened. His execution of the Wraith had been almost automatic. What else was he going to do? he reasoned with himself. Take the Wraith back to Atlantis? He ground his teeth as his pace quickened. Intel would've been helpful, but if Steve had been any indication, the Wraith wouldn't have told them anything. Somewhere within, he felt the conflict of betraying Weir's orders, but he denied it any attention. One Wraith, even restrained or imprisoned, was damn dangerous... lethal in the blink of an eye. The Wraith were unlike anything he'd ever dealt with before. There was no bargaining with them, no compromise... no choices. It was kill or be killed, and part of John appreciated the black and white perspective. Vengeance for the Pallan people… for Brianor and her child. Kill or be killed….
"Major!"
Rodney's voice snapped John from his dark brooding. Not breaking stride, John continued along the path back to the Stargate, his eyes fixed forward... away from the burned out remains of the Pallan village. He resisted the urge to look back, and tried to ignore Rodney, but the doctor wouldn't be deterred. John glanced slightly to his right, as Rodney quickly caught up with him. Ford and Teyla were just behind John, he could feel it, but he once again looked forward, his pace still quick.
"Major!"
John tensed, his expression turning dangerous as Rodney insistently grabbed John's arm, forcing him to stop.
"What the hell was that?" Rodney's loud voice was a cross between anger and shock as his eyes searched John's expression.
"Not now, McKay." John's voice was low and dangerous.
"Major...," Rodney persisted.
"I SAID NOT NOW!" John roared as he forcefully pulled his arm from Rodney's grip. Seething, he advanced on Rodney. His emotions in turmoil, his gaze was spiteful as he stopped, his face scant inches from Rodney's. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he was mildly surprised as the doctor stared evenly back, refusing to back down. Not sure how to get a handle on his own surging emotions, the last thing he wanted to do was talk to anyone about it, especially in a potentially dangerous situation. "McKay, stifle it," he hissed through clenched teeth. "This is not the time or the place for your prattling."
"Fine," Rodney snapped. He glared hard at John. "I'm sure Weir will have a few things to say about this."
"We all will," Teyla interjected quietly.
John's fierce gaze switched to the Athosian woman, some of his anger dissolving at the guarded concern in her expression. He glanced at Ford, who was staring at John in plain shock. "Ford, take our six. Let's get the hell out of here."
Ford swallowed and nodded. "Yes, sir."
Giving one more cold look to Rodney, John took point and led the group back up the steep path to the Stargate.
John emerged from the trees, and nodded at Bates as the Sergeant and his team relaxed and lowered their weapons. He stalked to the DHD, and tried to ignore the confusion on Bates' face, but the Sergeant wouldn't be deterred.
"Sir? The Wraith?"
John slapped the center crystal on the DHD and walked away from the Ancient mechanism. He glared at Rodney, daring the doctor to say anything, but Rodney only silently stared back, his expression anything but cowed. "Dead," John tersely replied. He pulled out his GDO and entered his own code.
"Yes, sir. What about Pallan survivors?"
John shoved his GDO back into his vest pocket. "There are none," he snapped.
"With all due respect, sir, you've only been to the village. They could've…."
John's seething glare cut Bates off mid-sentence. "There are NONE!" John's voice cracked in the end. He looked back to the gate.
"Yes…, sir."
John ignored the Sergeant's confused tone and focused his gaze on the gate, impatiently waiting for confirmation to return to Atlantis.
--------------------------------------------
Elizabeth stared down from the control room as the Stargate activated. Apprehension cramped her gut. Ever since John had tersely radioed back that Palla had been attacked by the Wraith, concern for him and his team had shadowed her every move. Now the knowledge that they were bringing a live Wraith back to Atlantis made her uneasy, to say the least. Elizabeth looked back expectantly at the personnel in the control room.
"Receiving Major Sheppard's IDC," Peter Grodin responded. He reached for the DHD, pausing as Elizabeth raised her hand.
"Hold on, Peter." She turned back to the gate. Ever since the Genii had hijacked an Athosian GDO, just receiving the IDC wasn't good enough for her, especially given the situation John and his team were in. She tapped her headset. "Major? What's your status?"
"Atlantis, this is Sheppard. There's nothing else we can do here. We're coming through. Lower the shield."
Elizabeth stared at Grodin, her gaze narrowing. Even over the radio, John's voice was harsh, almost antagonistic. She nodded once, okaying Peter to lower the shield. She turned back and stared at the gate, as the shield disappeared. "The way is open, Major."
"Copy that. Sheppard out."
Elizabeth pursed her lips and turned, heading for the staircase. She stopped at the top of the stairs and watched as John and his team emerged from the wormhole, before the gate shut down behind them. Elizabeth's eyes scanned the group, her brow furrowing in confusion as she noticed the absence of their Wraith prisoner. She skipped down the stairs, two at a time. "Major!" She quickly crossed the gate room and stopped in front of John. It was a fight for her to keep the shock from her face as she gazed at his haggard and dark expression. Her eyes flicked across the equally somber faces of the Major's team before once more fixing on John's face. "The Pallans?" She didn't think it was possible for his gaze to be any darker, but he swiftly proved her wrong.
"There's no one left alive." His low and intense voice was barely above a whisper, but the rage and frustration it held shouted at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed, before once more opening them and staring at John, her face full of compassion. Over the past few weeks, she'd seen a connection grow between the unorthodox Major and the Pallan people, and John's involvement with Brianor only strengthened that bond. In the short time she had spent on Palla, even she had felt a strong connection to them. Elizabeth fought tears as she thought of Brianor and the infant she'd held so dearly in her arms. She searched John's gaze. The Pallan destruction was horrifying enough to her, but she couldn't imagine the effect on John. Unconsciously, her gaze drifted to Teyla, and the compassion within Elizabeth deepened.
The Athosian woman's eyes were glassy with suppressed tears, her face a stoic mask of barely maintained control.
"Teyla..." Elizabeth's voice trailed off at Teyla's raised hand.
"I will be fine, Dr. Weir," Teyla responded quietly.
Elizabeth pursed her lips and nodded once. She looked around the room before returning her gaze to John. "Where's your prisoner?" She fought the urge to recoil as spite abruptly blanketed his features. "John?"
"He's dead," he snapped.
Elizabeth's eyes widened slightly. "We need to talk about this."
John shook his head emphatically, anger intensifying on his expression. "Not now."
"John..." Elizabeth stepped back as rage flooded his expression.
"NOT NOW!" He brushed past her and practically jumped down the stairs before breezing out of the gate room, leaving the rest of his team and Elizabeth in his wake.
She watched him leave, her gaze lingering on the doorway he disappeared through. Shocked by his behavior, she turned and stared at the equally stunned faces of John's team. Her gaze drifted to Ford. "Lieutenant? What happened?"
Ford's gaze lingered on the empty doorway for a moment longer, before he looked at her. He swallowed hard and fidgeted slightly. "Ma'am, the Major... well he...," Ford shook his head and sighed.
"He shot the Wraith," Rodney supplied, as he anxiously shifted weight from one foot to another.
Elizabeth's gaze narrowed. "I'm assuming you don't mean in self defense?"
"No, ma'am," Ford answered quietly. The Lieutenant's fidgeting disappeared as he stared hard at her. "The Major executed the Wraith in cold blood."
Shock numbed Elizabeth. Her jaw dropped as she stared in disbelief at Ford. She knew the Major had nothing but contempt for the Wraith, they all did, but what he had done shocked her to the core. "Executed?" Her voice was disbelieving.
"He didn't have to kill it," Rodney interjected quietly, "but that didn't seem to matter to him." Rodney's voice held it's own note of bitterness, which, Elizabeth had come to know, more often than not hid his concern.
"Dr. Weir," Teyla's voice was thick with emotion. "The Major may be incorrect. We only went to the village. There could be survivors that fled into the foothills to avoid the culling. We must go back."
Elizabeth stared long and hard at Teyla. Her expression was imploring, but Elizabeth knew her well enough to know Teyla would never insist on something unless she truly believed it. It wasn't emotional desperation that was speaking, it was experience, and Elizabeth bowed to it. She looked at Bates. "Get some teams together to return to Palla. I want to know for sure there's no one left. I want a briefing in 30 minutes and I want the teams ready by then." Elizabeth looked back to Teyla, who nodded slightly, as Bates strode away, barking orders in his radio.
------------------------------
John's long strides took him quickly down the halls of Atlantis. He bypassed the armory deliberately... the feel of a P-90 bouncing against his chest wasn't something he was ready to relinquish. The memories of Palla... Brianor... her child... they were too fresh in his head. Rage surged through him on a level he had never experienced. Somewhere deep inside of him, he was scared by it, but the rage smothered him... encompassed him in its heated embrace, and he was overwhelmed by it.
He kept walking, not knowing where he was going or what to do. He felt a nagging urge to do something… anything. What, he didn't know, but the persistent feeling begged him. He wanted to hit something, scream at something... kill something. John rounded a corner and stopped, his angered hazel eyes fixing on a transporter. He glanced around, deftly avoiding eye contact with any Atlantis personnel. He looked back to the transporter. He needed to be alone... to get away... to find his control. He stalked to the transporter and entered. Staring at the map, he punched the furthest location available, looking back as the doors slid shut. He felt a slight tingling as the transporter activated, and a moment later, the doors opened, revealing a dark and quiet hallway. He stepped out and looked around. On the fringes of the West Pier, he had only been here once before, during recon. Part of him hesitated, but his surging anger won over. Growling, he quickly stalked down the long hallway.
"The first of the crops will be harvested in a few weeks, John. You and your people may return then for some of your share."
Teyla smiled. "I will return when the harvest is ready. I expect your home will have a new addition."
No matter how swiftly his strides carried him down the long, dark corridor, John couldn't escape the image of Brianor… or her child, and the feel of both in his arms. He groaned and broke into a fast run as Fred invaded his thoughts. He heard Cooper scream as the Wraith fed on him… saw the delight in Fred's eyes….
His mind tortured him as his stride lengthened. Brianor. Young… vibrant…. Was that what she saw? Felt? In the last moments of her life, did she die staring into the eyes of a Wraith? Felt it suck the life from her? Watched the life being stolen from her child? Hope that John would arrive to save them?
John's breath came in ragged gasps as he forced his burning legs to keep running. No matter what he did, it never was good enough. The Wraith always found a way around it… a way to kill more innocents… destroy more worlds.
Wheezing, John staggered to a stop, unable to run any further. It wasn't good enough… he wasn't good enough… and the Pallans… Brianor, died for it. Guilt surged through him, overwhelming him as a cloud of darkness fell over his soul. A lump constricted his throat, and his eyes burned as he fell to his knees. His hands braced against his thighs, John's vision blurred. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt hot tears escape his clenched eyes.
Brianor… Malfan… the Pallans… Gaul… Sumner… Bower….
Cooper….
Pertus….
Where was the innocent boy now? Dead? On a Hive ship awaiting a horrifying end?
Silence descended over the deserted hallway, with only John's ragged breaths breaking it. When would it ever be enough? How many more people would he watch die at the hands of the Wraith? How many more would he be too late to save?
He ran the back of his hand over his eyes, before roughly scrubbing his face with both hands. He pulled in a deep, shuddering breath and slowly stood. He jumped as his radio crackled at him.
"Major Sheppard, please respond."
John arched a brow at Elizabeth's concerned tone. He silently stared down at the radio, not yet ready to trust his voice.
"Major… John, please answer me."
John pursed his lips at her plea, but his dark mood quickly took over again. Reaching up, he switched off the radio. In the back of his mind, John he what he was doing was wrong, but he was in no mood to listen to that whisper of reason. He just couldn't be around anyone right now… couldn't be near anyone, talk to anyone… stare at their sympathetic gazes.
Once again, he set off at a brisk run down the dark hallway, still not sure where he was going. He was running away, even though there was no escape. John knew it, but he really didn't care. He paused as he reached the end of the hallway. He stared at a tall, closed door for a moment, before reaching out and tapping the door crystal.
The door instantly opened, and a strong, ocean breeze blew across his face. He pulled in a deep, cleansing breath through his nose and slowly walked out into the sunshine. He crossed to the railing and stopped, his gaze fixed on the distant control tower. His thoughts drifted to the expedition team… his friends… the people he was sworn to protect. He'd never wanted military command on Atlantis but, faced with Sumner's death, he'd had no choice. But ever since he'd taken command, John had taken the responsibility of protecting all of them squarely onto his shoulders. Yet, when faced with Cooper's death, John had been forced to stand by, powerless… helpless to do anything to save the young Corporal. Could anyone have saved Cooper? The rational side of John knew probably not, but it did nothing to ease his guilt…or quell his frustration over it. He'd sworn to protect the team, yet Cooper was dead. He'd promised that he would look out for his people, yet Bower had been killed. He'd vowed to protect the innocent, from the very beginning of his career, yet Brianor, her child, the Pallans… they were all dead.
Guilt shrouded him in its icy clutches, leaving John powerless to do anything but stand there and stare at the city.
--------------------
Elizabeth sighed. "Where is he?" She stared at the sensor readings, her eyes scanning over the dozens of life indicators, showing various Atlantis personnel scattered around the inner city. "This is like a needle in a haystack, " she commented quietly. "Any one of those could be Major Sheppard."
"Dr. Weir!"
Elizabeth turned, her gaze questioning as Dr. Fusanaki crossed the control room, an anxious expression on her face.
"What is it, Doctor?" Elizabeth nodded slightly at the Japanese woman.
"Sergeant Bates indicated you were looking for Major Sheppard?"
Elizabeth's gaze widened. "Yes. Do you know where he is?"
Dr. Fusanaki shrugged. "Not now, but not long ago I saw him in the east corridor. He seemed very upset. The last I saw of him, he entered a transporter."
Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you, Doctor." Elizabeth looked at Rodney. "Where could he have transported to?"
"Ma'am," Ford interjected, "the Major was pretty upset. Maybe he was just trying to get away?"
Elizabeth glanced at the Lieutenant, before looking back at the doctor. "Rodney?"
Nodding, Rodney turned and punched a couple buttons on one of the Ancient consoles. "It's a long shot, but I'm widening the range of the sensors. If we pick up anyone outside the designated safe zones, it's probably him." He looked up at Dr. Zelenka, who sat next to a nearby laptop. "Try it now."
Zelenka typed a couple commands onto the laptop, and looked up as the sensor display abruptly widened to show the whole city.
"Bingo," Rodney whispered.
The concentration of life signs within the safe zones was heavy, but no one paid attention to that. All of them stared at the one, lone, blinking life sign on the outer reaches of the West Pier.
"That has to be him," Rodney pointed. "The West Pier is out of bounds to anyone except teams authorized in advance. No one should be there."
Elizabeth's sigh was a cross between worry and irritation. She looked at Ford. "Since he's not answering his radio, Lieutenant, take Teyla and go bring him back. When you do, bring him to my office. After that, I want you to team up with Stackhouse and Collins to go back to Palla." Her expression stern, Elizabeth turned and stalked out of the Control room.
---------------------------
"Which way now, McKay?" Ford asked over his radio as he stepped out of the transporter. The Lieutenant looked both ways down the long corridor, searching for any sign of Sheppard.
Rodney's voice instantly answered. "Go left down the hallway. It's quite a long ways, but at the end, you'll see a door. The Major is on the other side of it."
"Copy that." Ford flipped on the light on his P-90 and started down the long corridor. He glanced at a silent Teyla. "You're pretty quiet," Ford ventured.
"I am worried about Major Sheppard. This behavior is not like him," Teyla answered quietly.
"Yeah," Ford agreed. "Something isn't right."
Teyla paused and fixed Ford with a penetrating gaze. "He has not been right since we brought him back, but what he did today…" her voice trailed off and Teyla shook her head slowly before again looking back to Ford, "was very disquieting."
Ford nodded in agreement as he scanned the hallway with his light. "I never thought the Major would crack. He's one of the strongest soldiers I've ever met."
"He went through a horrible experience, Aiden," Teyla reasoned. "And we do not even know all of it. Even someone as strong as the Major cannot help but be affected by such a thing."
Ford nodded as they continued down the hallway. "I just hope he's gonna be okay." He glanced at Teyla, as she smiled slightly.
"It will be difficult, but I believe the Major will persevere," she said confidently.
Ford smiled slightly, reassured by her tone of voice.
They continued silently down the hallway until, at last, they reached the end of the corridor. Ford tapped the door crystal, watching as the doors parted. He sighed quietly and nodded as he stared at the unmoving back of Major Sheppard. After a moment of silence, he glanced at Teyla then cleared his throat pointedly, before returning his gaze to John. "Major?"
John's back straightened, before he slowly turned and looked at them.
Ford's eyes widened as he stared at John's hollow expression. A faint and humorless half smile crossed the Major's face.
"Should've known McKay would find me," John said quietly.
"Yes, sir," Ford answered. "Dr. Weir sent us to bring you back."
John was motionless for a moment, before he arched an eyebrow and nodded slowly. "Yeah, kind of thought she would when I turned off my radio." Slowly, he walked between them and started down the corridor, his stride flat, almost lifeless.
Ford shot a worried expression at Teyla, who returned one of her own, before they both followed John back down the hallway.
-------------------------------------
Elizabeth looked up, her expression stern as John walked into her office. She glanced past him and flashed a grim smile at Ford and Teyla. "Thank you, Lieutenant, that will be all." Her smile fading, Elizabeth looked back at John. "Close the door then take a seat." She sat, her hands folded in composure, as John did her bidding and slowly sat down opposite her. He unclipped his P-90 and set it on her desk, before staring evenly back at her.
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow expectantly, but said nothing.
Finally, John looked away and shrugged. "Look, I know what you're going to say, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken off like that… or turned off my radio."
"You're right," Elizabeth's voice was quiet, but strong, "you shouldn't have. But that's not the only thing we need to discuss." Her gaze hardened as she stared firmly back at him. "Tell me what happened on the Pallan home world, because I distinctly remember ordering you to bring the Wraith prisoner back for questioning."
Fierceness sparked in John's hazel eyes, and Elizabeth had to fight to keep surprise from her face.
"I… had… no… choice…." John bit off every word spitefully.
Elizabeth's gaze narrowed as she refused to back down from his hard demeanor. "That's not what Ford said. He said you executed the Wraith in cold blood… and against my orders."
John pushed back from her desk and abruptly stood. He unconsciously grabbed his P-90 and held it close to his side as he paced across the room before stopping and staring at her again. "There was no way in hell I was bringing that bastard back here."
Now it was Elizabeth's turn to get angry. She stood and stared sternly at him, her voice rising slightly. "I ordered you to bring him back here! What were you thinking?" As soon as she said it, Elizabeth regretted her words as, quicker than she could react, John's expression turned tragic. She saw pain fill his eyes, the instant before he turned away.
She stared at his rigid back, confusion sweeping away her anger. "John, what's wrong?" She shook her head as his shoulders heaved with his intake of a deep breath.
"Elizabeth, I couldn't… bring him back here." John shook his head and started pacing her office. "Don't you get it?" His voice rose in agitation, "We show them mercy and they go on killing, wiping out civilizations… torturing innocent people." His voice rose to a near shout. "I can't go on giving them leniency!"
"John!" Baffled at his irrational behavior, Elizabeth stepped around her desk and grabbed his arm. She took an involuntary step back as John violently shrugged out of her grasp. "John, you can't do things like this, I don't care what the reason is. Not just because you violated my order, but because it isn't right!"
From across the room, John whirled and fixed her with a cold stare. "Isn't right?" he shouted. "Tell that to Sumner! What about Abrams? Gaul? Bower? Cooper?" John's head fell forward as he shook it violently. "God, Elizabeth! They wiped out the entire Pallan civilization! What about Brianor and her son? Malfan? Pertus? Tell them that killing that son of a bitch wasn't right!
Over her anger, Elizabeth felt compassion at the pained expression on John's face. "John, we don't know all the Pallans are dead. Malfan and Pertus could still be alive. Bates and Ford are arranging teams to return to Palla and search for survivors. There's still some hope." Elizabeth tried to reason with him, but John was beyond reasoning.
John stared intently at her. "Bates and Ford?" He headed for the door. "I need to be there…."
"No." Elizabeth's voice stopped John in his tracks. "John, you're in no condition to go anywhere."
"It's my job," John spat.
Elizabeth kept her stare even against his spiteful one. "Not now, it's not, Major." She steeled herself and plunged forward with the words that needed to be said. "You're an emotional liability right now, John. I won't let you go."
"Liability?" John's voice cracked in anger. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"You executed a Wraith in cold blood and against my orders! Tell me that wasn't uncontrollable hatred!"
John savagely pushed one of the chairs out of his way. "Damn it, Elizabeth! I'm through being nice to these bastards! They destroy whole worlds and we just sit by and watch! I'm through with it! You didn't stand there and watch them torture Cooper to death, helpless to…" John's clenched teeth bit off his unfinished phrase. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, regaining some composure.
"John," Elizabeth softened her voice, "you can't carry this anger around with you forever. It'll destroy you." She sighed. Fervently, she'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, but Elizabeth realized, as the leader of this expedition, and John's friend, she no longer had a choice. "I want you to talk to Dr. Heightmeyer."
John's eyes snapped open, ferocity returning to his gaze. "No."
"Major," Elizabeth's tone was warning.
"I'm not talking to some damn shrink!" John shouted, anger, disbelief and spite all coloring his tone. "I've had men die under my command before! I can handle it!"
Elizabeth shook her head at his stubbornness. She pulled herself up straight and as tall as she could. "That wasn't a request, Major." Her voice took on a commanding tone.
John's gaze narrowed. "Don't do this, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth shook her head. "Major, I am ordering you to see Dr. Heightmeyer."
"God damn it!"
Elizabeth never saw his outburst coming, nor did she have any time to react. Shocked, she could only watch as John grabbed an Athosian vase from her bookcase and hurled it across the room.
She flinched as the vase shattered against the wall and pieces of clay flew everywhere. Stunned, she looked back at him, unable to keep a touch of fear from her expression. As soon as Sheppard met her gaze, she saw his face soften at the alarm he saw in her eyes.
"Elizabeth, I…." His voice was quiet, regret filling it.
Elizabeth forced an even tone to her voice. "Major you are relieved of duty until Dr. Heightmeyer says otherwise." She put on her best commanding expression and stared hard at John.
Motionless, John gazed at her, fear and regret mixing with the anger in his eyes. Without a word, he nodded, turned and left her office.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and let out a long breath. She opened them again, rounded her desk and stared down at the shattered remains of her vase.
"Elizabeth?"
Unable to keep the slight shake from her hands, she shoved them into her coat pockets before turning and looking into the concerned eyes of McKay. Swallowing hard to find her voice, Elizabeth crossed the room and sat down behind her desk. "Rodney, can you find me something to clean that up, please?" she whispered. Turning to her laptop, Elizabeth stared at the mission reports, but concentration eluded her as her mind lingered on John.
---------------------------------
Rodney stared at Elizabeth for a moment, before his eyes once again fixed on the scattered remains of the Athosian vase. He'd heard the crash, seen Sheppard's face when the Major had left Elizabeth's office, even heard the more heated parts of their exchange. "Sheppard?" he asked quietly. His eyes widened at Weir's grim expression.
"Major Sheppard is relieved of duty until further notice."
Rodney's jaw dropped. "Elizabeth, the Major…"
"My decision is final, Rodney," Elizabeth soundly cut him off. She glanced pointedly at the shattered vase. "The Major needs help, and I'm going to make sure he gets it."
Rodney nodded once, silently, turned and walked out of her office. Just outside the door he paused, his mind racing even more than usual. He'd seen the look on Sheppard's face. In the months he'd worked with Sheppard, Rodney had learned a lot about the Major, and one thing he did know was that Major Sheppard could be stubborn – even more so than Rodney, which surprised him a little. Outwardly, the easy going Major didn't seem the type, but when he got his teeth into something….
Rodney's unfocused gaze narrowed. Sheppard was being stubborn, and sometimes it really took a stubborn person to know one. Just the fact that Elizabeth had to relieve him of duty to make him see Heightmeyer was proof enough. Irritation flared in Rodney. This was crap. Atlantis needed Sheppard now more than ever. They didn't have time for him to be pig headed and obstinate. It was high time someone told him to get his head out of his ass. Rodney looked around. "Where's Major Sheppard?"
"He headed for the back stairs, McKay," Peter Grodin answered, as he pointed to the corner stairwell.
Rodney inhaled deeply and crossed the control room to the stairs. As he started down the first flight, he tapped the call button on his headset. "Phil, this is Rodney McKay." Rodney rolled his eyes impatiently as he waited. As many times as they'd tried to get Phil to wear a headset, the stubborn SGC janitor refused. Rodney could see it now: Phil was digging through his pockets to find his radio….
"This is Phil, Dr. McKay." Phil's patient voice finally answered Rodney's call.
Already irritated at Sheppard, Rodney's patience was thin. "Phil, when are you ever going to wear the headset Dr. Weir gave you?" McKay snapped at the janitor.
"Gets in my way," Phil replied matter-of-factly.
"Whatever," Rodney sighed loudly. "Got a dustpan handy? Weir's got a mess in her office."
"For Dr. Weir? Of course," Phil answered lightly.
Rodney's gaze narrowed. "What do you mean by that? You're only doing this for her? You wouldn't do it for… oh, let's say… me?"
"Yep, that's what I'm sayin' Dr. McKay." Even over the radio, Phil's voice held a note of amusement.
"Fine," Rodney snapped. "Just get up there."
Unfazed, Phil replied immediately. "Will do."
"McKay out." Rodney tapped his headset again. Irritated, he dashed down the final flight of stairs and quickly strode down the hallway, weaving in and out of Atlantis personnel. His mind mulled over where to find Sheppard. A smug smile flashed across his irritated face as the obvious answer came to him. Sheppard had still been in full gear and armed from the mission to Palla. His first stop, logically, should be the armory. Rodney's smug smile faded. Of course, with Sheppard's ways, the armory could be the second, fourth or last stop the Major made. Rodney's irritation redoubled. God, how he hated it when irrational people messed with the logical order of things….
Rodney rounded a sharp right hand corner and paused, his gaze narrowing as he caught sight of Major Sheppard approaching the armory doors. Any smug satisfaction Rodney might have had was smothered by his redoubled irritation at Sheppard. "Major!" Rodney started towards Sheppard.
Rodney's gaze narrowed as the Major gave Rodney a cold stare before entering the armory.
"Major, we need to…," Rodney's voice trailed off as the armory doors closed right in front of him. Angered, Rodney sighed loudly. As a member of the senior staff, McKay was one of the few non-military personnel on Atlantis who had an access code for the armory, and he quickly took full advantage of that. He looked up as the doors parted and quickly strode in. He glanced around, glad to see that, beside himself, Sheppard was the only one there. Allowing his irritation to flow freely through him, he crossed his arms and stared at Sheppard's back as the Major quickly stowed his P-90 on a rack with several others.
--------------------------------
"What the hell was that?"
Rodney's grating voice did nothing to ease John's frustration. He stiffened, refusing to turn around and give the doctor any attention, but paused in unzipping his vest. "I don't know what you're talking about, McKay." A moment of silence followed his statement, and John resumed stowing his gear.
"Oh really? So that little display in Weir's office was your pathetic attempt at Athosian art? Sorry, Major, but you don't have the knack."
John clenched his teeth at Rodney's typical sarcasm. Angered, he spun around, and stared coldly at him. "Leave it alone, McKay." John toned his voice low and dangerous but, by McKay's expression and firmly crossed arms, he could tell the doctor had a full head of steam himself.
"Or what?" Rodney's brows arched rebelliously. "You'll throw something at me? Be careful, Major, I wouldn't want you to break one of your pretty guns!"
John savagely unzipped his vest and threw it into the corner, before looking back at Rodney and pointing emphatically at the doctor. "You have no idea what's going on, so butt out!"
Rodney lifted his jaw defiantly. "No idea? I know more about what's going on than you think, Major. Care to hear my thoughts on it?"
John glared at Rodney. "I don't give a damn what you think you know, McKay." Reaching the end of his already short patience, John's expression turned dangerous. "I'm only going to say this one more time. Leave it alone."
Rodney slowly shook his head, refusing to back down. "Or what? You know, wallowing in self-pity is so not you. So, how long are you going to keep it up?"
John's anger redoubled as Rodney touched a nerve in him. His gaze narrowed. "I am not wallowing in self pity!" He turned away, and grabbed two clips for his sidearm.
"Like hell you're not!" Rodney shouted. "Look at you! You stand there, beating yourself up because you didn't do more to save the Pallans, when you and I both know there was nothing we could've done to make a difference!"
Rodney stepped closer to John. "And then there's loosing Corporal Cooper. Newsflash, Major! Cooper was a soldier! He knew the risks! What were you going to do? Betray all of us? Tell the Wraith where Earth is and how to find it? Give them the key to the Milky Way Galaxy? You did what you had to do, Major! Beating yourself up won't change that!"
John whirled around, fixing Rodney with a seething look. "What the hell do you know about it? You're no damn soldier! You weren't there! You didn't look into Cooper's eyes as the Wraith tortured him! You didn't listen to his screams as they sucked the life out of him! You…" John's voice faltered. He at once turned away, fighting to keep his surging emotions under control. "You weren't his CO," he whispered, not trusting his voice to any more than that. He pursed his lips and pulled in a shuddering breath, his eyes fixed on the floor as he struggled to compose himself. He heard Rodney sigh loudly.
"No, you're right. I wasn't there! But I am here…. We're all still here because you didn't tell the Wraith anything. So while you bury yourself in guilt, consider that too."
Something in Rodney's words grated on John. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, his rational side knew Rodney was right, but the rest of him would have nothing to do with it. He spun back, rage darkening his eyes as he quickly closed the distance between himself and Rodney. "I am not buried in guilt, Rodney," he repeated. His quiet and seething tone forced Rodney back a step, but the doctor wouldn't relent.
"Oh please! Look at yourself! Weir had to relieve you of duty, for god sake! You're hiding behind your guilt so you don't have to face the fact that you were helpless to do anything to help Cooper or the Pallans!" Rodney took a step forward, pointing emphatically at John. "You were helpless and you… can't… stand it!"
Rodney had read John right. So right, that John couldn't control the surge of emotions that swept over him. He wasn't sure what happened, but one moment he was seeing red, and the next his hand was stinging and he was staring down at Rodney. John's breath came fast as his anger instantly dissolved. "Rodney?"
Rodney pushed himself up on one elbow and rubbed his chin gingerly. For once, the sarcastic doctor was at a loss for words. His gaze wary, he looked up at John.
John swallowed hard. "Rodney, I…." His brow furrowed as he struggled to find the right words. Coming up empty, he walked away. Had he looked back, he would've seen a stunned Rodney watching his retreat.
-----------------------
"What happened?" As she walked into the infirmary, Elizabeth momentarily pondered just how often she'd been forced to ask that question lately. Seated on a nearby bed, Rodney glanced at her while Carson gently prodded his jaw.
"He hit me!" Rodney's voice was slurred as he tried to talk around Carson's exam.
Elizabeth stopped next to the bed, her gaze narrowing. "Who hit you?"
"Major Sheppard!" Rodney's slurred voice was indignant.
"John?" Elizabeth couldn't believe what she was hearing. She arched an eyebrow at Rodney's annoyed stare.
"That's the only Major Sheppard I know!" Rodney shot back.
"All right, that's it," Carson stepped back and pointed at Rodney. "Pipe down and let me finish looking at your jaw, or I'll sedate you."
Rodney's attention switched to the Scottish doctor. "You wouldn't."
Carson's gaze narrowed. "Try me."
Cowed, Rodney remained silent as Carson finished examining his jaw.
Carson stepped back and sighed. "Well, you're going to have a doosie of a bruise, but I don't think anything is broken. I would like to do some X-rays to be sure though."
"No way!" Rodney protested. "Do you know how much radiation you're going to expose me to? Expose my head to?"
"Yes, Rodney," Carson sighed. "That's why they're called x-rays."
"Well I don't…."
"Rodney!" Elizabeth interrupted. "Just get the x-rays then report to my office. In the meantime, did you see where Major Sheppard went?"
"No!" Rodney rubbed his jaw. "I was too busy studying the ceiling of the armory to notice!"
"You know, Rodney, there is a sure way to avoid having your jaw x-rayed," Carson interjected.
Rodney switched his attention to Beckett. "What?"
Beckett smiled. "Next time, duck."
Rodney sighed and rolled his eyes, before smiling sarcastically. "Oh, that's very funny."
"Dr. Weir?" The hail over Elizabeth's headset demanded her attention. She raised her hand to it and walked away from Rodney. "This is Weir, what is it, Peter?"
"We've received a communiqué from Halling on the Mainland requesting to talk to you. It sounds urgent."
Elizabeth furrowed her brows for a moment before she replied, "I'll be right there, Peter." She walked back to Rodney's bed. "I have to go. Come up to my office when you're done here."
Carson stared for a moment at her. "Is everything all right?"
Elizabeth pursed her lips for a moment. "Halling called from the Mainland, something is going on. I don't know what yet."
Carson nodded. "If ye need me, call. I'll be done with Rodney in a few minutes."
"As soon as Carson is through irradiating me, I'll join you." His gaze a cross between annoyed and wary, Rodney glanced at Beckett, who just smiled back in a tolerant way.
"Fine, Rodney," Elizabeth shook her head in mild amusement, the apprehension of Halling's call never really leaving her as she turned and walked from the infirmary.
