A/N: Yet another long chapter for you!
Blood of the Heir
Chapter 4
The sound of John's boots on the shiny marble floor echoed loudly as he made his way towards the Vice President.
As Daniel watched, John's physical presence seemed to change the closer he got to him: he stood taller, prouder, almost as if he was assuming a different persona.
Daniel had no idea what effect this would have on John's energies, or how he was feeling: apart from a headache, the man was once again a closed book. But he could only imagine that it couldn't be good: for either John, or for the Vice President.
This used to be John's domain; the life that he had not chosen. Yet circumstances were forcing him to step back into that life he had left behind, so long ago.
"I said no, John!" James Coalfield growled angrily.
"And I told you that I didn't need your permission,"John replied, as he came to a stop in front of him. Although his voice sounded light, with its usual sing-song tone, the underlying threat could clearly be heard.
"You may technically still own part own the company, John, but that does not give you the right to just waltz in here, without so much as a by your leave, and do whatever the hell you like."
"Doesn't it?" John replied, rather flippantly.
Daniel could only see John's back, but he guessed that his energies weren't showing, and he could clearly see Coalfield, who just continued to look angrily at John.
A moment of tense silence followed.
"So, what exactly are you hoping to find on the servers?" Coalfield demanded firmly, though he seemed to have relented a little.
"Sorry, James, but I can't tell you that."
Coalfield crossed his arms and continued to glare at him. "Well, isn't that just so typical? More secrets…
"It's what I do, remember?"
"Oh, yes, I remember, John, only too well."
John shifted his stance, and sighed heavily as he pushed both hands into his pockets. "Look. All I want is access to the servers. Why is that such a problem for you?"
He then tilted his head on one side, considering him carefully. "Unless, of course, there is something you don't want me to find…"
Coalfield looked instantly startled and recoiled his head, frowning. "What the devil are you insinuating? Of course there isn't!"
"You sure about that?"
"You have some audacity questioning my loyalty!" Coalfield spluttered.
"James…" Clearly sensing that the Vice President was about to launch into some sort of tirade about their past, John tried to head him off.
Unfortunately, Coalfield wasn't about to be waylaid. "No, if you have something to say, just come out and say it!"
John was silent for a moment, but when he spoke his voice had a deeper, darker edge to it. "All I want is access to the servers."
"Not until you tell me why."
"Sorry, I can't do that."
"Well, I can't give you access to the servers then."
John snorted and began to move past him, but Coalfield grabbed his arm to stop him.
"I said no!"
John instantly froze.
Everyone held their breath, except Ronon, who took a step towards them.
"Give him a moment," Daniel said quietly.
Ronon growled deeply but remained where he was.
John very deliberately looked down at the hand on his arm, and then slowly up to his face. "Take…your hand…off me….Now."
But Coalfield's grip remained firm, as did his stare.
"You don't want to push me, James…"
"Are you threatening me?"
For a moment, they just stared at each other, in a silent battle of wills.
"Alright, James," John stayed ominously still. "You now have two choices. Option one, you allow me and my team to go to the Server room, unhindered, and you get to go home."
James began to reply, but John quickly spoke again.
"Or two…I have you arrested for the obstruction of justice, and you spend the night in a cell."
"What? You can't do that!"
"You care to put that to the test?"
"I thought the years might have changed you for the better, John, but clearly you haven't. You are still as arrogant as you have always been."
"Oh, I've changed. You just haven't seen how much…yet."
Coalfield stared at him for a moment, utterly speechless, and Daniel wondered if John's eyes had revealed his biggest secret, or whether it was just his dark expression that Daniel could only imagine was facing the Vice President right now.
Whatever the reason, Coalfield removed his grip on John's arm.
Then, without looking back, John called out to them. "C'mon guys," and began to walk, once again, past the Vice President.
They didn't need to be told twice, and quickly rushed to catch up with John, as he made his way towards the elevators.
Luckily, it was large enough to hold them all.
"John, wait!" Coalfield bolted after them. Just as he was about to enter, John quickly moved to block the doorway.
"Not a chance." Then, without breaking eye contact, John selected the 2nd floor button.
"You can't do this, John!"
A rather sinister smile appeared on John's face, just as the doors began to close. "Watch me."
SGA SGA SGA SGA
"Ok," John turned to face them, as the elevator began to move. "That went well."
"Ya think?" Rodney's voice always did have a habit of going up an octave whenever he was in a stressful situation.
"Oh yeah."
"Looks like you guys have got some history," stated Mitchell dryly.
Rodney couldn't help but roll his eyes. Talk about stating the obvious!
"Yeah, you could say that," John replied, rather mysteriously.
"He's an idiot," added Ronon gruffly.
John smirked. "You said it, Chewie."
The subtle chime shortly preceded the gentle stop of the elevator, indicating their quick arrival at the 2nd floor.
Once they were in the corridor, there was not much to indicate just what this level was used for. Closed door after closed door meant that Rodney could see nothing but grey carpet, and the odd pot plant, which broke up endless stretch of white walls.
This place was massive, and just when Rodney was wondering if they were ever going to reach the Server room, they turned yet another corner and came to a set of double doors. There wasn't a key hole, but a swipe card reader, which made Rodney sigh quietly.
Yet another room he would have to try and break into. But, before he had a chance to say anything, John pulled down a hidden panel beneath it, revealing a number pad. He hesitated for a second, rubbing at his jaw thoughtfully, and then began to tap in a sequence of numbers.
A heavy clunk confirmed that John had yet again remembered a correct entry code.
As soon as he entered the room, Rodney felt the instant coolness of the air conditioning systems. "Nice!" he uttered appreciatively, as he stood taking in the room for a moment. Floor to ceiling racks of servers almost filled the room.
Rodney had forgotten to ask just what PSI did, so couldn't begin to hazard a guess as to why they would need this amount of data storage.
"C'mon, Rodney, it's this way," said John, as he headed down one of the isles. Rodney quickly headed after him, as did the others. All except for Ronon, who remained by the door, just in case James Coalfield decided that he would rather check out the insides of a cell.
John headed for a desk on the far side of the room, where two computers sat on a desk. Both were displaying login screens.
John pulled out one of the stools, sat down, and instantly began typing yet another set of access codes.
'Password accepted' flashed up on the screen, and they were in.
Rodney couldn't help but speculate just how John was getting past every single password and lock. He had said that he hadn't been here for years, so how was he able to remember them? Surely they couldn't be the same ones from years ago.
"Ok, Rodney," said John, as he vacated the chair. "Do your thing."
"Er, yeah, right," Rodney instantly sat down, but looked back up at him.
John smiled at him. "I know, Rodney, this could take some time."
Rodney grinned. "Not now I know what I'm looking for. Ten minutes, tops."
He then quickly turned around and set to work.
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"So, Shepp," Mitchell said, as he leant against one of the servers, with one foot crossed casually over the other. "What's the deal with you and the VP?"
John looked at the floor. "Long story."
They had moved away from Rodney so as not to distract him, but they remained close enough, just in case.
Mitchell folded his arms and glanced in Rodney's direction. "Well, it looks like we got some time."
John began to rub his forehead hard.
"Headache still bothering you?" asked Daniel carefully, as John's earlier outburst was still fresh in his mind.
But the look John gave him was not aggressive in any way. In fact, he actually looked rather contrite. "Yeah."
"Perhaps it is merely lack of sleep, John," Teyla offered softly, who stood beside him.
He looked down at her, but then looked quickly away. "Yeah, maybe."
A slight frown appeared on Teyla's face. She was not the only one who did not truly believe that.
"Didn't you take some painkillers earlier?" asked Mitchell.
John grunted. "Not working." He pinched at the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes and grunted slightly as he did so.
"Sheppard! I got it!" Rodney's voice called out, and John's eyes instantly flew open, removed his hand and moved quickly back to his friend.
"That was quick. What you got?"
"Yeah, well, what can I say? It's easy when you know what to look for. I was right, of course. This is not your average Spyware."
"Ok," said John slowly.
"It's called 'FinFisher'; an extremely advanced piece of specialist surveillance software, primarily used by intelligence agencies and law enforcement. It was designed to masquerade itself as another program, in this case as Mozilla Firefox. That's why the anti virus software didn't detect it as a threat."
John frowned hard, and once again he rubbed at his head, but this time he held his hand there, as if shielding his eyes from the florescent lighting in the room. He then dropped his hand.
"Alright, so…you mentioned that it was transmitting data. Can you trace it?"
Rodney frowned slightly as he looked at him, clearly noticing John's discomfort. "Already done."
"Well, where's it going?"
"Washington."
John took a sharp intake of breath. "Any chance you can pinpoint an exact location?"
"Yeah, hold on…." Rodney then turned back to the monitor, and after a few button presses, a map of Washington appeared; a tell tale red dot flashed intermittently. "Bingo!"
Placing one hand on the desk, John leant closer to the screen, and a small smile slowly began to appear. "Perfect. Alright, did you bring a memory stick?"
Rodney tutted at him. "Er, hello!" He then promptly waved a small USB stick in front of them.
John seemed oblivious to the sarcasm. "Great. Copy as much information as you need."
"Just give me five minutes."
John nodded briefly and began to turn around, but as he did so, he seemed to loose his balance, and staggered backwards slightly into the nearby server shelving.
"Whoa…You ok?" Daniel felt his heart rate pick up again.
"Yeah," replied John vaguely, rubbing at his head again. "lile dizzy…."
His words were slurred, and as Daniel stared more closely at him, he could see a slight sheen had appeared on John's face. Something clearly wasn't right.
He glanced at Teyla.
"John?" She touched his arm gently, and he slowly looked at her, squinting slightly as he did so, as if he was having trouble focusing.
"Ok, I got it!" cried Rodney, as he made his way towards them, waving the small memory stick triumphantly in the air.
"Tey-la…" John began to reach out to grab hold of her arm, but seemed almost unable to locate her, as his arm flailed about like a blind man's.
"John?" she grabbed hold of his hand just he began to pitch forwards. "John!"
Both Daniel and Mitchell stepped in immediately, steadying him just in time.
Daniel's adrenaline immediately kicked in to overdrive. "Ok, time to leave."
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Their progress back to the elevator was slow going, as John now seemed to be finding it harder to walk in a straight line, and it took both Daniel and Ronon's firm grip to keep him going in the right direction.
"C'mon, John, just a little further," murmured Daniel, through tight lips.
John was beginning to lean more heavily against them now, and Daniel wasn't sure how much longer John's legs were going to hold up.
Finally they reached the elevator, and Mitchell, who had raced on ahead, had pressed the button. Luckily, the elevator was still on the same level, and the door slid open.
Just as they began to walk inside, John cried out and his legs gave out beneath him. Ronon's grip tightened and he heaved most of his friend's weight onto his hip. "S'ok, buddy, I got ya."
As the elevator began its smooth descent, all that could be heard was John's now laboured breathing and soothing piano music, from the inbuilt speakers, which no one had noticed before.
Daniel stared hard at John and bit his lower lip anxiously. John had gone very pale, and what had been just a slight sheen, had now increased to droplets of sweat, and the intermittent grimace indicated the level of pain he was now in.
All Daniel knew was that they had to get him back to the Ranch, and fast. After that, he had no idea just how they were going to help him.
The elevator quickly reached the Ground Floor and Daniel held the door open as Ronon virtually carried John out into the foyer.
"You got him?" asked Daniel, offering to help.
"Yeah, just get the damn car!" growled Ronon, shifting his hold once again as John lurched forward.
Hearing the sudden commotion, the security guards quickly turned around and looked shaken by what he saw.
"Is the limo still parked outside?" Daniel shouted at them urgently.
For a moment, both seemed to be frozen to the spot.
"Yo! Guys! The limo?" Mitchell barked.
The sound of an order quickly made one of them rush to check. "Yes sir, it's parked right outside!"
"Good!"
As they approached the doors, both guards moved swiftly to open them fully.
The family chauffeur had obviously been watching out for their return, and had already moved to open the door of the limo.
"Oh, my lord," Daniel heard the Englishman murmur, as he stood back anxiously as Teyla got in first. She slid over to the far end of the seat and then gestured for Ronon to carefully manoeuvre John in. Fortunately John was still conscious enough to help a little, but seemed to use the last remaining strength he had, as he virtually collapsed into Teyla's lap, crying out sharply as he did so.
Within seconds of the door closing, the limo shot off into the night.
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Teyla could feel John's sweat beginning to soak into her thin pants as his head continued to lie in her lap. She carefully stroked his damp hair back, which had begun to stick to his face. Although he looked extremely pale, his skin felt hot to the touch. She moved her other hand down to his arm, and his shirt felt drenched too.
She tried not to let her rising panic overwhelm her, so instead focussed on his face, which didn't help as he looked to be in total agony. His fists were held so tight that his knuckles were turning white, and his breathing had now become more laboured. Once again he was groaning with each exhale.
"Teyla," Daniel's gentle voice made her look up sharply. "Was this what happened…before?"
She gnawed at her lip a little before she replied. "I cannot say for sure, Daniel, as I was not present when the visions first began."
She looked back down as John groaned and shifted slightly, but his eyes remained squeezed tightly shut, so she was unable to determine whether or not they were blue with his energy.
"I have," murmured Rodney slowly. "It's the same."
Daniel scooted to the edge of the seat and leant towards the open privacy screen. "Er, Greaves, isn't it?"
The chauffeur turned his head slightly. "Yes sir."
"Greaves, we're gonna need to go faster…" He tried to keep his voice light, but the urgency in his voice was very apparent.
"Yes sir!" With that, the limo accelerated hard, and Daniel activated his earpiece.
"Er, Jack, we gotta a problem."
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Just as Daniel expected, Jack had instantly taken action, and the entrance of the Ranch was clear of all reporters.
As they pulled up outside the front door, both Daniel and Teyla tried to rouse John, but he now appeared to be completely unresponsive. So once again, Ronon heaved John's almost dead weight out of the limo, straight into a fireman's lift, and moved quickly into the house.
Jack stood waiting for them. "Damn it, is he conscious?"
"Barely," replied Daniel.
"Where?" asked Ronon, shifting his hold slightly, as John let out another groan.
"The Snug," said Teyla, and she quickly led the way.
Daniel was rather relieved that there appeared to be very few people left in the house. "Where is everybody?"
"I told them all to take the night off," replied Jack, rather dismissively.
"Really?" Daniel looked at him, rather surprised that he had managed to get everyone out, considering the circumstances.
Jack gave him a look. "What, a General and his team can't handle one night alone?"
Daniel smiled slightly. His friend appeared to have finally gotten used to his extremely powerful status. "Good point."
Teyla had grabbed a couple of cushions from a nearby chair, and Ronon began to lay John carefully down, as she supported his head.
"So, what happened? Was it the headache?" asked Jack, frowning.
"Yeah," murmured Daniel, "it just seemed to get worse until he almost passed out."
"He said anything?"
"No, not yet."
"You do think it's…" Jack trailed off meaningfully.
"Yeah." Daniel grimaced, "well, at least I hope it is."
"You hope?"
Daniel stared back at him. "Yes, because if it isn't a vision, I have no idea what it is."
Jack went to sit on one of the armchairs opposite to where John now lay.
"Is this…normal?" Jack leant forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, as he stared hard at the man on the sofa.
"I don't think any of this could be classed as normal," replied Daniel bitterly. He hated to watch anyone in pain, least of all when it was John.
John continued to groan, shifting his position slightly, and seemed to mumble something, but his eyes remained firmly closed.
"John?" Teyla knelt beside him, staring at him intently.
Daniel moved quietly to kneel down beside her, to offer what little support he could. As he stared more closely at him, he could see there was rapid eye movement, which Daniel knew only too well what that indicated, or rather would do normally: REM sleep was usually the time when dreams would occur.
But in this case, it had to be a vision.
John suddenly gasped, long and loud, bolted upright, and yelled at the top of his voice, "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?"
Everyone in the room started, though Daniel quickly recovered himself, and moved in close once again. "John? Can you hear me?"
John was now panting hard, yet his eyes were still closed, as he started to move his head around, as if he was trying to see.
"I don't know ANYTHING!" he sounded insistent, but it had lost that usual John Sheppard confidence. It was as though….
"John?" Daniel grimaced as he watched Teyla slowly reach out towards him. But as she slowly placed her hand on top of John's, he cried out and flinched away so violently that his eyes flew open.
"Oh my," Daniel whispered. He now understood why Teyla had found the sight of John's bright blue eyes so disturbing.
Not that 'flashing' eyes were a new concept for him; after dealing with the Goa'uld for almost fifteen years, it was almost old hat. But, coming from John, it was a whole different ball game. And they were incredibly bright!
Teyla took a few deep calming breaths. "John?" Her voice was calm and firm, but she looked incredibly distressed that she could cause such a strong reaction from him.
John breathed deeply and then slowly moved his bright blue eyes to look at her. He blinked a couple of times, as if he was trying to bring his vision into focus. As he continued to stare at her, his features began to loose some of its rigidity.
"Are you alright?" Her control slipped a little, and her voice broke with emotion.
John swallowed hard as he continued to look at her. To Daniel, it almost looked as if he was communicating with her, telepathically. Sure enough, she then sighed heavily, and closed her eyes for a moment.
"John?" Daniel asked softly, "What… did you see?"
Again, John swallowed hard. "N…nothing…" his voice was so quiet that everyone had to strain to hear him, though he sounded rather vague, almost as though he was still partially under the influence of the vision.
Daniel frowned. "You saw nothing?"
John's bright blue eyes stared back at him. "I….I'm…blindfolded."
The room was so quiet, that everyone heard Teyla's slight but sharp intake of breath.
"Could you hear anything?" Daniel pressed on, relieved that John was actually responding to him.
John physically shuddered. "Voices."
"Did you recognise any of them?" Daniel continued, maintaining his very gentle tone.
John frowned hard. "No."
"What…" Daniel hesitated for a moment. "What were they talking about?"
John leant his head to one side, as if he was still trying to listen. "I don't know. I…can't…. understand what they are saying."
Daniel was surprised for two reasons. Firstly, John had already shown that he knew several languages at least, and many of those were pretty universal. So what language could they be speaking?
Secondly, John was actually talking in the present tense, and not in the past, which indicated one thing: that this was no ordinary vision. John was actually connected to David, in real time.
Daniel pushed on quickly. "Are they speaking a language that is alien to you or…?"
He glanced briefly at the others, especially Jack, as Daniel carefully put the question into the present tense.
John continued to stare at him. Even though Daniel was used to flashing eyes, the look he was giving him was rather unsettling to say the least.
"I…" John suddenly stopped and looked away. "They are running some kind of…tests," John spoke slowly.
"Tests? What kind of tests?" Jack quickly asked.
John continued to stare into space. "I… don't know. But they are taking… a lot of blood."
Teyla visibly shuddered. "Is David….?" She asked so softly, but seemed afraid to finish her question.
John slowly looked back at her. "He is… in bad shape." John then took a sharp intake of breath. "Injecting something…" he grimaced, and started to look down towards his arm. "Feel…weird."
John now sounded even more dazed, as he seemed to be feeling exactly what his brother was.
Daniel struggled to keep his voice calm and soft. "John, does it feel familiar? Like perhaps when your DNA began to change?"
John seemed to sway slightly, and his eyes began to droop. "No. D'frnt."
Although Daniel couldn't be completely reassured by this, at least it didn't appear that someone was tampering with David's genetic makeup. But the effect it was having on John was truly alarming.
Just then, John's demeanour suddenly changed.
"No….not again. No, don't! Please!" John pleaded over and over, and then began to struggle to push himself backwards along the sofa, as if trying to get away from someone or something.
Teyla clearly couldn't stand it, and reached out towards him, but Daniel instantly intercepted her hand. "Don't," he said firmly, "I think…we have to let this take its course."
Teyla stared hard at him for a moment, her eyes filled with tears, but she nodded her understanding and drew back her hand.
"NO! Get off me!" John seemed to struggle for a moment, and then gave out a blood curdling cry, his eyes slammed shut, and his head dropped down.
Daniel glanced at Teyla again, who had raised a fist to her mouth, as if to stop herself from crying out. He took hold of her other hand, squeezing it reassuringly as he looked back at John.
His head was still down and his eyes remained closed. His fists were clenched tightly beside him and he was panting heavily, as though he had just sprinted for a full hour.
"John?" Daniel spoke his name hesitantly, uncertain of what his reaction would now be. Was he still connected, or had that now been broken? He uttered his name again, a little firmer this time.
John's head slowly lifted and he gradually began to open his eyes. Thankfully his eyes had returned to their normal colour.
"You…back with us?" Daniel asked carefully.
John once again swallowed hard, and raised a rather shaky hand to rub at his head. "Yeah." His voice shook almost as much as his hand.
Daniel quickly glanced over at Mitchell, who instantly understood his meaning, got up and made his way over to the bar. After grabbing a glass of cold water, he handed it to Daniel.
He smiled his thanks, and then offered it to John. "Here. Drink this."
John winced as he looked up, and slowly reached to take the glass. Only his hand was still shaking so much, Daniel wasn't sure that he wouldn't soon be wearing it, but Teyla was quick to step in. She leant forward and gently placed her hands over his, steadying it, and helped him raise it to his lips.
"Slowly, John," she murmured tenderly as he began to gulp the water down rapidly.
After almost draining the glass of its contents, they both lowered the glass. He sighed heavily and then looked up at her for a moment, before
John broke eye contact, and looked down once again. Teyla bit her lip as she too lowered her head.
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Jack didn't like any of this. Not one damn bit!
Blindfolded, blood taking, and tests. It all screamed ATA Gene envy.
What was even more unsettling, if all that wasn't bad enough, was that Daniel had pretty much insinuated that the 'people' might even be alien.
What the hell?
At least Sheppard seemed to have finally lost the 'link', or vision…or whatever it was that had just happened.
Jack couldn't help but feel for him. The guy now looked utterly drained.
Sheppard sighed heavily, and sank his head back against the sofa. As he began to close his eyes, Teyla slipped her hand into one of his, which he grasped onto tightly.
Jack looked over at his friend, just as Daniel looked back at him. He quickly tilted his head slightly, indicating that he wanted a quiet word. Daniel sighed and slowly got to his feet to join him.
"Well, what do you think, Daniel?" Jack kept his voice low, as soon as they were over by the window.
Daniel shook his head. "It's not looking good, is it?"
Jack sighed. "It would be really useful if he could just 'see' something!"
"Yeah, I'm sure he feels the same way."
"So, you think that, whoever has David Sheppard, might be…alien?"
Daniel shrugged. "I have no idea, Jack. The fact that John didn't understand what they were saying…well, you know that he is pretty good with languages…"
"Yeah. But…alien?" He couldn't help but sound incredulous. "Since when did Strom, if that's who is behind this, suddenly get in bed with an alien race? And how the hell did he get in touch with them, if that's the case?"
"Your guess is as good as mine." Daniel glanced back towards John, who now seemed to be resting more peacefully. "Maybe we can ask him once he has rested a bit."
Jack sighed. "Yeah. Sooner the better, if you ask me." He glanced at his watch. "It's getting pretty late."
"So, first dibs on a sofa then?" Daniel tried to smile, and Jack couldn't help but smile back.
"Marie…" Sheppard's rather unsteady voice came from the sofa, causing them both to look at him. He was gingerly pushing himself up to a sitting position, and Teyla was helping him.
"What did you say, son?" Jack walked back towards him, so Sheppard would not have to strain his voice.
"Get Marie…I'll have her make up some rooms."
"You sure you got enough?" asked Jack, rather playfully, as he already imagined that this place housed several bedrooms.
John managed to roll his eyes slightly, and then grimaced, as his head was still clearly giving him some discomfort. He then gave a slight ghost of a smile. "Yes sir, more than enough."
He then began to lower his feet to the floor and tried to push himself up, but groaned so heavily, that Daniel quickly intervened.
"No, John, don't get up. You need to rest. I'll go see Marie."
John sighed, smiling weakly at him as he sank back against the cushions. "Thanks."
The ease in which he had agreed clearly showed just how truly exhausted he felt.
Daniel sighed, and then went off to find Marie.
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Daniel couldn't help but glance once again in John's direction, across the long length of the dining room table.
Despite the late hour, Marie had truly proved her worth as the family's cook, and had provided a fantastic meal, though John had eaten very little.
John continued to push his food around the plate, staring at the contents, but clearly not seeing it. His mind was clearly preoccupied elsewhere.
It had been an hour since John's vision, and everyone's unspoken concern for him, had created a strange atmosphere.
Conversation had understandably been jilted and restrained, as they had all tried desperately to avoid bringing up what they were all thinking: the true content of his vision, and its implications.
Plus the fact that Marie's comings and goings were making it virtually impossible to discuss anything remotely relevant to the situation.
Daniel knew that, although the elderly woman seemed to speak only in her native tongue, it was only because she preferred to, and not because she couldn't speak English. In fact she actually understood a lot more than she let on.
She hadn't been their resident cook for over thirty years, without knowing the odd swear word or two either, which, Daniel was sure, could only be attributed to the Sheppard brothers.
"Merci, Marie, ce sera tout," said John quietly to her, as she once more began her hovering.
John's polite yet firm dismissal reminded Daniel of the world that John had once been a part of.
But Marie hardly fitted the ideal image of an obedient servant, as she placed both hands on her hips, and regarded him like a schoolmistress to a naughty pupil.
"Mais vous n'avez rein mange! Pas étonnant que vous êtes si mince!"
Marie clearly wasn't happy that John hadn't eaten anything, and had started to point at him, to which John just sighed, clearly having heard her comment on how thin he was, countless times before.
"Ne vous embêter, Marie, je suis très bien." He sounded tired; as he told her not to fuss and that he was fine.
She frowned; as she clearly wasn't buying his response that she had obviously heard a great many times before too. But she seemed to understand the serious look he was giving her, warning her to drop it, as she tutted loudly, and then stormed back into the kitchen, mumbling a few chosen French swear words.
John then looked somewhat embarrassed and cleared his throat uncomfortably. He then seemed to glare at his plate, picked up his fork and stabbed at a defenceless potato.
Daniel smiled into his glass of water. So, the nanny had not lost the ability of getting John Sheppard to eat his food after all….
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John grimaced and tried to breathe deeply, as yet another wave of nausea washed over him.
After only managing a few mouthfuls of food, of which now sat heavily in his stomach like a stone, he finally gave up and pushed his plate away.
He didn't need to look up to know that everyone had seen him do so. They had all been watching him, as they sat around the large dining room table, glancing at him for signs of another vision. It had only been an hour, and although he still felt the residual effects, he did feel better. Well, apart from the sore head and the bouts of nausea.
He also knew that he wasn't about to have another vision. Having had four, well two that he considered 'full on' proper ones and two in the form of dreams, he was beginning to learn and understand. Though in classic John Sheppard style, it obviously had to be the hard way, as usual.
What he had just experienced, though, was...something he would think about later; perhaps when the nausea had eased a little.
But it wasn't just the food, or his vision, that was making him feel so wretched.
Although they had briefly spoken since he had snapped at her, he still felt that it hadn't been enough.
Even though he had never intended to lash out, least of all at her, it was her soft words that had been the catalyst, the moment he had lost control.
In all the years he had known her, not once had their arguments been of a personal nature. Perhaps it was his so called powers that had been the reason for his rather unusual lack of control. Still, there was no excuse.
He had crossed the line, and he had had broken his promise. He had let her down, just as he had his brother.
No. This was about Teyla, not Dave.
Even under the most extreme situations he had always managed to remain in control, and focussed. This would be no different. He would find Dave and bring him home, end of story.
No, at this very moment, it was about Teyla, and their relationship.
Over the years, she had become more than just an integral part of his team. She brought balance to his chaos, clarity to his confusion, and reason to his recklessness.
He sighed heavily, staring at his hands that now lay in his lap.
He had apologised, but he knew it wasn't enough. It was such a small word, 'sorry', and it never did have the power to undo what had been done. His marriage had been a true testament to that.
He had sworn to himself that he would tread carefully, and not make the same mistakes he had made before. Teyla deserved better. Someone who would cherish her, respect her, and treat her in the way she deserved to be treated.
Someone like Kanaan….
His stomach tightened uncomfortably and he once more had to breathe through the nausea.
No. He couldn't afford to think like that. Not now.
While their friendship was not new, their intimate relationship was. Their connection was far deeper, far stronger than he had ever felt before in his life. Even though she still had to speak to Kanaan, he knew that she was his, and he was hers, and that he would fight for her, no matter what.
Although his mind was trying to tell him that he was making the same mistakes as before, his heart was telling him that this was different. He was different. She was not Nancy, and neither was he that man, and hadn't been for a long time.
One thing he did know for sure: the longer things were left unsaid and unresolved, the harder it would be to actually fix them. Yes, he could perhaps let it ride, which he had done with Nancy, but he wouldn't and couldn't do that to Teyla. He was already finding it hard to meet her gaze, so strong was his guilt now.
No, he would fix this, no matter how difficult it was going to be. But he knew she would listen, quietly and patiently, just as she always did when he stumbled over his words, like some awkward teenager.
"John?"
He instantly looked up at the sound of her voice.
"Perhaps we should move to a more…comfortable room?"
He smiled somewhat shyly at her. She always did know how to read him, though his discomfort must be plain for all to see. Sure enough, as he glanced at the others, they were all looking expectantly at him.
"Sure, why not?" he replied quietly.
He slowly pushed his chair back and stood up. He tried not to grimace too much as he did so, as his stomach tightened uncomfortably, and couldn't help but rest a hand over it as he moved towards the door.
Though Teyla didn't say anything, he could still feel her eyes watching him.
He sighed as he led them into the Family Room. He knew what was coming. Now that dinner was done, and Marie had disappeared, the questioning would begin.
Whilst he knew it was integral to them moving forward, the experience was still so raw, and he had yet to actually come to terms with it himself.
He knew that he had to share it with the others, and that was something that he was never very good at.
He glanced briefly up at the two portraits on the wall, and then went to sit down carefully on one of the armchairs as he others all found various seats, making themselves comfortable.
He suddenly realised he had just made a big faux pas. Perhaps it was the eyes of his father, staring down at him from the painting, telling him that this was no way for a host to act, and he slowly began to heave himself out of the chair.
"What's up, John?" asked Daniel, always attentive.
John smiled. "I was just about to get some drinks…"
Daniel merely waved his hand, gesturing for him to sit back down. "I'll get them," and before John could refuse, Daniel had quickly moved to the bar area.
Feeling rather awkward, John sat back down, while Daniel began to hand out some drinks.
As he was doing this, John couldn't help but look back up at the portraits. Trying not to look at the stern expression on his father's face, he focussed instead on that of his mother.
Her beautiful face looked almost animated for a moment: as though she had just smiled at him, welcoming him home. He felt his energies settle a little, and his nausea seemed to ease.
He sighed as he leant back against the chair, and let his eyes wander around the rest of the room. These four walls had witnessed so many arguments, tears and pain. But it had also seen a lot laughter and joy too.
It had been his mother's favourite room. She had so loved to sit in the very armchair he now sat in; her head back, her eyes closed, listening to him play. He had always felt so proud every time he had made her smile, and utter the word, 'Bravo', whenever he had mastered yet another complicated piece.
He watched as Teyla moved quietly towards the Steinway, gently running her fingertips along its smooth surface as she walked along its length until she stopped and looked down at the keyboard.
He glanced surreptitiously at the others: now that Daniel had handed out the drinks he was talking quietly to O'Neill on one of the sofas, Ronon and Mitchell were both stretched out on another, looking almost asleep, and Rodney was sat at the computer desk, no doubt checking out the data he had copied from PSI.
For now, that particular issue could wait.
He slowly stood up, and tried to ignore the eyes that now watched him, as he slowly made his way over to her.
Teyla turned, and gave him a shy smile, before she looked back at the piano.
"Hey," he murmured softly. "You…ok?"
Her eyes remained on the piano. "I was merely remembering…the last time I heard you play."
John smiled gently, remembering it too. She had been deeply moved by it, as he had been, but for very different reasons.
She had never heard such music before, whereas he had unleashed his emotions in a way that he hadn't done since…his mother had past away.
Perhaps it was time, once again, to just let go….
Without saying another word, he slid smoothly onto the stool, and looked tentatively up at her. She was smiling at him, though her eyes looked somewhat sad.
He returned her smile, and then looked away. Yes, they needed to talk, but not here. He would do that in a much more private place.
For now, he would let his music speak for him.
He breathed out deeply, settling his energy, and centring himself. He then slowly opened the case, and positioned his feet over the pedals, placed his hands on the keys, and closed his eyes.
He had no idea what he would play, so he would let his fingers decide.
Before he knew it, he had started to play, and it took a second or two for him to realise just what he was playing: it was a piano rendition of 'Us and them', by Pink Floyd.
A smile slowly began to form, as his fingers moved smoothly over the keys, once again as though it had only been yesterday when he had last played it.
As he continued to play, he felt his energies begin to respond.
Throughout the entire day, they had felt like a torrent, and he had struggled at times just to keep his head above the water. It had actually felt as though he had been drowning as the vision had truly taken hold. The rush and sheer power of it had almost completely overwhelmed him. But he had fought hard against his desire to control, and had managed to let go, just as he did so now.
This particular piece had particular significance for John, as the words reminded him of a time that had scarred him deeply.
Afghanistan.
'Us and them
And after all we're only ordinary men.
Me, and you
God only knows it's not what we would choose to do.
Forward he cried from the rear
And the front rank died….'
Faces of unforgotten friends and comrades began to drift into his mind, and his energies stirred. But he merely screwed his eyes more tightly closed, and continued to play until he finally finished the piece.
The final notes echoed around the room, as all conversation had appeared to have ceased. He slowly opened his eyes, and looked up at Teyla.
Once more her eyes were shining with unshed tears, and her smile was sad.
"That was amazing, John," said Daniel appreciatively. "I didn't know you played."
"Well, it's not exactly a useful skill in the Air Force," replied John, trying to shrug off the praise as best he could.
"You should hear him play Moonlight Sonata, then," commented Rodney, who was still sat in front of the computer.
"Classical too?" asked Daniel, clearly impressed.
John just smiled sheepishly at him.
"What was that anyway?" asked O'Neill.
"Pink Floyd. Us and Them," replied John.
"Nice," said the General, who then took another large swig of his scotch.
"Did David play?" asked Teyla carefully.
"A bit, though he never was very good at it. Mum used to say that Dave had Dad's analytical mind, and that I had her creative flair, though we all knew I was pretty good with numbers too." John couldn't help but smile at her, which she returned, but then looked away. She still looked sad.
He frowned a little. He hated to see her so sad, especially when it was of his own making.
He sighed and looked back at the keys. What could he play that might lighten the mood?
After a moment, he then began to smile as one particular tune sprung to mind.
Over the years, their brotherly competitive streak was exacerbated by the constant comparison that his father would make between them. Often Dave would do something, which would completely make him out to be the better, more ideal son than John was. His mother had just rolled her eyes, her unspoken words told him not to worry, that it was just something his father did, and that she loved him, no matter what.
But John had always been the more cunning out of the two of them, and had found his own ways of getting back at Dave. There was one piece that he would always play on such occasions, and it usually worked; resulting in Dave storming off.
At the time, it was serious contest. Looking back, it was harmless sibling rivalry.
Nevertheless, John felt the need to play it now, as if it once more connected him to his brother in some small way.
John began to play. Left hand: set the deep rhythm. Right hand: picked up the melody. It had been such a long time since he had played the Blues, and its unusual 7/4-4/4 time signature had always been a refreshing change, and his foot tapped along to the beat, like a metronome.
As he continued to play, he remembered the words, and found himself grinning when he got to the two bits which used to get Dave's back up the most:
New car, caviar, four star day dream
Think I'll buy me a football team…
I'm in hi-fidelity
First class travelling set
And I think I need a Lear jet…
As soon as he finished playing, Rodney instantly began clicking his fingers together.
"Oh, I know that one…no, don't tell me...MONEY!"
John grinned at him. "Never knew you were a Floyd fan, Rodney. Thought Celine Dion was more your style."
His friend looked immediately indignant. "She is my favourite artist, yes, but it doesn't mean that I can't appreciate other genres too."
"'Course not," replied John, feeling rather pleased that he had been able to relieve some of the uneasy tension.
Although his headache was still there, his nausea had eased and his stomach had settled. His energy was calm, and he felt strangely balanced and centred.
It was time.
He took a deep breath, and looked seriously at General O'Neill. "Sir, we have to go to Washington."
To be continued…
Post script:
The spyware, FinFisher, does actually exist, and is used by intelligence agencies. Apparently it infected Apple's Itunes software in 2008.
If you want to 'hear' John play the Pink Floyd pieces, check out 'Vitamin piano Series', Piano Tribute to Pink Floyd.
'Us and Them' seemed to be extremely appropriate, as well as beautiful. It also reminds me of the music from Stargate Universe, Gauntlet, which never fails to bring a lump to my throat.
Dave actually mentions the song, 'Money', in Chapter 22 of The Legacy of Janus, as he stood on the deck of the Daedalus. I can really imagine John playing it, just to wind his brother up.
Thanks again for all their reviews and PMs. I really appreciate all of your thoughts, continued support and encouragement. Please, don't stop!
