Chapter 7
Rodney rubbed his eyes then checked his watch. Eight hours of interrogation had resulted in exactly nothing, like all of the others. He couldn't fault Teyla and Lorne. Short of ripping the guy's fingernails out, they had done everything they could to persuade him to tell them what he knew about the Wraith planet. He had readily confessed to being a worshiper, whatever was in that syringe of Lorne's had seen to that, but if he knew what was on that planet, he wasn't telling. Rodney didn't think he knew. None of the worshipers they'd questioned so far had known.
Lorne glanced up and shook his head. Rodney shut down the holding cell's forcefield to allow Lorne and Teyla to exit then turned it back on again.
"Another waste of time," Lorne muttered. "How many does that make it?"
Teyla's lip pressed in a thin line. "Seven."
Rodney glared at the worshiper who had his head down and was breathing heavily through his mouth. "Whatever is there is obviously not common knowledge. Do you think--"
"Doctor McKay and Major Lorne to the gateroom."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "What now?"
"Please prepare the prisoner," Teyla told the guard at the door. "I will return for him shortly."
"What are your people doing with these worshipers?" Lorne asked as they rounded the corner and headed to the transporter.
Teyla's eyes glittered. "Meting out justice."
A few years ago, Rodney would have been shocked, would have loudly denounced it as barbaric. Now, he had a sudden desire to help, and from the look on Lorne's face, he wasn't alone. He wasn't sure what that said about them.
The last several months had proven to him just how tough the Athosians were. People he'd disparaged as simple, ignorant farmers had survived an ordeal he could barely fathom, had insisted on going back to the world they had been taken from, and had rebuilt their society literally from scratch.
Teyla was the toughest of them all. He'd never doubted her instincts and abilities – he'd seen what she could do to a man with nothing but two sticks – but until her people had been taken, he hadn't realized how far she would go. Even their return and the birth of her son hadn't dimmed much of her rage. Losing John and Ronon had only fueled it more. These days she stalked around Atlantis so fast Rodney had a hard time keeping up.
They stepped out of the transporter and into the frantic chaos of the control room. Lorne shot a concerned glance at Rodney as they jogged behind Teyla toward a monitor that Woolsey, Zelenka, and a couple of techs were huddled around.
"What's going on?" Rodney asked.
Woolsey straightened, his features pinched. "A Wraith cruiser just exited hyperspace. It will be here in ten minutes."
Lorne tapped his comm. "All military personnel to battle posts."
"Thank you, Major," Woolsey said. "I'd like you to go to the chair room since…" His eyes flicked to Teyla and Rodney. "Please have your second in command report here at once."
"Yes, Sir." Lorne strode away, relaying orders as he went.
"Can we identify the ship?" Rodney asked.
Woolsey's brows arched. "You think it might be Todd?"
"Well, I hope so," Rodney replied. "Unless another group of Wraith have found out where we are. Is the cloak on?"
"Yes," Chuck answered. "We raised it as soon as the cruiser registered on the sensors. No way to know if they spotted us, though. And we aren't detecting any type of signal to identify them."
"It is Todd," Teyla murmured, her eyes unfocused, staring into the distance. "He is…agitated. Something is wrong." Her forehead puckered as she concentrated. "The voices are quiet. No, silent." She shook her head. "No, that is still wrong. They are missing." Her gaze focused on Rodney. "When we were near his cruiser before, I could sense hundreds of them. Now, there are perhaps fifty."
Woolsey's face drained of color. "A mutiny?"
She shrugged. "I do not know."
The possibilities were endless, but one in particular made fear curl into a cold lump in Rodney's stomach. What if… No. He wouldn't even think it. But he might check it out. He moved to a station and initiated a scan of the cruiser. His knees wobbled when the results came back – no battle damage. Whatever had happened to Todd's crew hadn't been in a fight over a certain crazy Satedan and a crazier lieutenant colonel. There was still hope. Only eight more days until the Daedalus arrived.
"Hold on, guys," he whispered.
"Sir," Chuck called, "we are receiving a transmission from the cruiser. Audio and video."
Rodney climbed out of his seat and leaned over Chuck's shoulder. "The patch we made a couple of years ago should still work." He pressed a couple of keys. "Route it through there."
Chuck nodded and began working. Major Teldy, Lorne's second, entered and stood silently to the side. A moment later Todd's face appeared on the monitor.
"Ah, Doctor McKay and Teyla." He inclined his head slightly. "Your presence will allow this negotiation to move more quickly than I had anticipated."
Woolsey cleared his throat and stepped forward. "I am Richard Woolsey. We met when you were here before."
"I remember." Todd's lip curled in distaste. "What happened to Colonel Carter?"
"I am her replacement."
Todd's head tilted. "Are you now? A pity. I had hoped to have another opportunity to shake her hand."
Rodney looked at Woolsey. "What?"
"Never mind." Woolsey crossed his arms over his chest. "Why are you here?"
Todd frowned, glanced off to his left then turned back with an apologetic smile. "I wish to accept your previous offer. With a condition."
Hope gushed through Rodney, but Woolsey, to his credit, barely flinched. "What condition?"
"I wish to speak to the human who helped the one you call Michael create the virus."
Rodney wiggled a finger in his ear, certain he must have misunderstood. How did Todd know about Carson?
Woolsey's expression didn't change. "What are you talking about?"
Todd's eyes flicked to his left again and he jabbed a hand irritably before addressing Woolsey. "It was well-known among the Wraith that the Tainted One had one of your people. He could not have--"
"You knew?" Rodney snarled, leaning toward the monitor, gripping the console hard enough to leave fingerprints in the metal. "You goddamn son of a bitch! You knew he had him all this time and you never said anything?"
Todd's eyes widened innocently. "I told you where to find him."
"But you-- I--" Rodney spluttered, glancing at Teyla who smiled calmly as she reached around him and muted the conversation.
She angled away from the camera so Todd couldn't see her face. "He is Wraith. Anything he says or does will always be to benefit him."
Woolsey turned as well. "You think he's up to something?"
"Of course," Teyla said. "If he is here and asking for more than we offered, he has something that he believes we will want."
"Suggestions?" Woolsey asked.
"Well, if we can't let Lorne take target practice with his ship, I say we ask him what he's got," Rodney said.
Teyla nodded. "I agree."
"Very well." Woolsey waited until Rodney unmuted the connection. "If we agree to let you speak with him, what do you offer in return?"
"John Sheppard and his friend."
"I see." Woolsey adjusted his glasses. "The man you refer to isn't here. I will need to make arrangements."
Todd cocked his head to the side, looking amused. "Then I shall wait."
"What?" Rodney exclaimed. "You aren't going to go get them? They could be dead if you wait much longer."
"If they are, you will get nothing," Teyla stated.
Woolsey's eyes narrowed then widened as his jaw tightened. "You already have them."
Todd smiled and gestured toward his left. Rodney sucked in a breath. Short of being dead, Ronon and Sheppard couldn't look any worse than they did when they stumbled into view. Ronon was filthy from head to toe, his hair matted, bruises and cuts on his face and arms, clothing in tatters, thin, exhausted. But Sheppard…
Sheppard was hunched over, leaning heavily against Ronon, his bare chest crisscrossed with scabbed-over scars from feedings. Healing lacerations and contusions peeked from under a layer of grime that sweat was carving rivulets through. Tremors shook him nonstop, his breath came in short pants, and cloudy eyes darted everywhere.
Withdrawal.
"Oh, my God," Rodney breathed. "You bastard!" He swallowed the rising bile. "What the hell did you do?"
Something indefinable shifted in Todd's expression. "This was not my doing."
Sheppard's head lifted. "McKay?" He jerked away from Ronon and lunged at Todd. "You touch any of my people and I'll kill you!"
Todd stepped back, his face impassive, and Ronon wrapped his arms around Sheppard from behind, turning him toward the camera. "McKay is on Atlantis, John. Look at the screen."
Sheppard squinted then relaxed a little. "Oh, hey, McKay. Hi, Teyla."
Rodney couldn't force any words out. He glanced down when Teyla's fingers laced through his. He squeezed back and blew out a couple of breaths while he cut the video feed to every monitor except the main one, and then looked up and smiled.
"Hey, Sheppard. How are you?"
"Been better." Sheppard grunted then doubled over for a second before huffing a laugh. "Withdrawal's a bitch."
"I remember."
Sheppard looked up, his eyes bright. "Don't give him a damn thing. That's an order."
Todd ignored him. "I will return Sheppard and Ronon to you once you have delivered all of your research on the virus and the human who created it."
"We don't have…" Rodney trailed off when Teyla's iron grip clamped around his wrist.
She stepped forward. "Where is your crew?" she asked Todd.
His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"
She took another step forward and closed her eyes. "What happened on your ship?"
Todd roared and shook his head. "If you try that again, I will kill them," he growled.
Teyla gasped, her eyes flying open. "Most of his crew died after they fed during a recent culling."
Woolsey tugged his jacket into place. "We will give you all of our research into the Hoffan virus, but it isn't possible to speak with Doctor Beckett."
"I need both. The doctor will not be harmed. Your people may observe."
"No, you don't understand. He isn't here," Woolsey replied.
"Then get him." Todd glanced toward Sheppard who was sweating profusely. "You might want to hurry."
"He's on Earth, you idiot," Rodney snapped.
"Rodney," Teyla admonished.
He pulled away from her and stepped toward the screen. "He's a cl-- Michael experimented on him. He's recuperating back home. It would take weeks to get him here. Sheppard doesn't have that kind of time." Rodney spread his hands wide. "Carson recorded everything he could remember before he left. It's all in the research."
"Curing this plague is in the best interest of both our peoples," Teyla said. "We will give you the research, including all of Doctor Beckett's notes, but speaking with him is not possible."
Todd whirled and stalked toward Sheppard. Ronon backed away, pulling John with him, and collided with a drone. Rodney held his breath.
"Don't touch him," Ronon warned.
Todd leaned into Sheppard's face. "Will they let you die to protect the other one?"
Sheppard laughed. "You know they will. You were there last time."
Teyla moaned, a low pained sound that matched the ache in Rodney's chest.
"They're telling you the truth," Ronon said. "Beckett's really not there."
"Why should I believe you?" Todd asked.
"Because if you don't, you'll get nothing. Because if he dies, you'll have to kill me to stop me from killing you, and when you do that, Atlantis will blow your ship into a million pieces."
Todd studied Ronon for a minute then nodded. "You have a point." He turned to the camera. "You may send one of your ships to collect them. I will allow you to leave once I have received all the data."
The monitor went black.
"Have Major Lorne and a medical team report to the jumper bay immediately," Woolsey ordered, "and begin uploading the Hoffan research to Todd's cruiser."
"All of it?" Chuck asked.
"Every last bit," Woolsey confirmed then turned to Rodney and Teyla. "Go get them."
Rodney dashed down the stairs after Teyla toward the mission ready room then backtracked to find Major Teldy who was still in Ops. "Make sure the halls from the jumper bay to the infirmary are clear. I don't want to see anyone, and I mean anyone, when we take Sheppard and Ronon through there."
Teldy nodded. "I've already given the word. The way will be clear."
Rodney turned to go then paused and looked over his shoulder. "Thank you."
Then he ran faster than he'd ever run in his life.
xxx
Teyla fumbled with the zipper of the tac vest then stifled a scream and sat down, flexing her fingers and blowing out slow breaths that brought no calm. When boots pounded in the hallway, she schooled her features and tried the zipper again.
"Hey," Evan greeted as he entered, his hands automatically checking pockets and weapons, "where's… You okay?"
She nodded then shook her head. "I cannot get the zipper to work."
"Let me." Evan knelt in front of her and tugged the zipper into place. "They're going to be okay, you know."
"We've been searching for so long." Teyla closed her eyes and exhaled. "Thank you."
"Believe me, it's a good thing I already had mine on." Evan handed her a handgun and a radio. "Now, where's McKay?"
"Right here." Rodney skidded into the room and snatched a vest. "I had something to take care of." He got tangled in the straps and swore, the harsh Satedan consonants sounding quite wrong coming from his lips.
Teyla swallowed the hysterical giggle threatening to spill and glanced at Evan whose brows had shot toward his hairline.
"Is that even physically possible?" Evan asked.
Rodney shrugged. "Ronon says it is. Would somebody help me with this damn vest?"
Teyla batted his hands away and pulled it on then zipped it. "Perhaps Ronon will demonstrate for us."
Rodney blushed a delightful shade of red. "God, I hope not."
Evan plugged his headset into his radio and adjusted the earpiece. "We ready?"
Teyla fastened her thigh holster, slid another clip of bullets in her vest, and grabbed her P-90. "Yes."
"Wait." Rodney loaded his handgun then tucked a scanner in his pocket. "Let's go."
They dashed out the door and up the stairs to the jumper bay where Jennifer and Marie were pacing, both carrying large med kits. Evan raced up the ramp and had the jumper prepped by the time everything and everyone was loaded and settled.
"Flight, this Jumper One. Ready for departure," Evan said.
"Jumper One, this is Flight. You are a go."
Teyla resisted the urge to hug the back of Evan's seat as the bay's ceiling opened and the jumper lifted into the sky. Displays flickered and sensors beeped, but she kept all of her focus on the stars above them, searching for the cruiser that held the missing members of her family.
"There it is," Rodney whispered, his hands in constant motion.
She soaked in the sight, privately acknowledging the irony of being pleased to see a Wraith ship.
"What if it's a trick?" Rodney asked. "What if he takes us captive, too?"
Evan lined the jumper up with the opening to the dart bay. "Captain Billings is in the control chair, ready to blow it out of the sky on Woolsey's order."
Rodney stared at him. "That's not exactly comforting."
"Wasn't supposed to be." Evan landed the jumper then stood, switching off the safety on his P-90. "Let's hope it isn't a trick."
Marie flinched when something pounded on the rear hatch. "Sorry."
Teyla offered a quick smile as she raised her weapon. Evan and Rodney stood beside her, guns drawn, as the ramp lowered.
Ronon and John stood alone outside. They looked worse in person than they had on the viewscreen. John was barely upright, most of his weight slumped against Ronon and his head drooping to his chest. Ronon gazed at them with dull eyes and staggered sideways as another tremor shook John.
"Oh, God," Evan murmured.
Teyla rushed forward, but instinct told her not to touch. "It is good to see you."
John shivered uncontrollably. "G-g-good to be s-seen."
"Ronon?" Teyla frowned when he stared blankly at her. "Bring him in."
Nodding, Ronon followed her in, dragging a shuffling John at his side. He turned his body to block everyone from seeing John then helped him settle in the space between the bench and the bulkhead.
"Don't." Rodney grabbed Jennifer's wrist when she stood. "Let Teyla."
Teyla smiled gently at Ronon and moved toward him cautiously. "Ronon, do you know who I am?"
Exhausted eyes lifted to hers. "Yeah."
She knelt in front of him. "Do you trust me?"
He nodded.
"Jennifer and Marie are here to help. John is very sick, and they need to tend to him." When he blinked languidly at her, she reached out and placed her hand on the side of his face. "You are safe."
He stared at her, his eyes hollow and old. She held out a hand that he took, allowing her to pull him to his feet. They moved to the other end of the bench to give Jennifer and Marie room to work. Rodney babbled to John about Batman and chess and anything else that came to his mind. She didn't think John was listening, too busy scratching his arms and neck, until Rodney stopped. John's head whipped up, his eyes wild as he clutched at Rodney's sleeve.
"Talk!"
"Okay, okay, um, sure." Rodney sent Teyla a pleading glance. "What should we talk about?"
"Anything," John insisted, clawing at the floor. "Just talk."
"Colonel, I need you to hold as still as possible so we can insert the IV needle," Jennifer said. "Can you do that?"
John's hand fisted in Rodney's jacket. "I'll try." Veins bulged in his neck and his back arched, but the shakes slowed to twitches.
Jennifer inserted the needle and taped it quickly. "You did great." She glanced to the cockpit. "Major?"
Evan shook his head. "Bay doors are still closed. Atlantis completed the upload a few minutes ago. I guess the Wraith are verifying it."
John cried out, writhing.
"What's wrong, Colonel?" Jennifer asked.
"Muscle cramps," Ronon answered.
While Jennifer dug frantically through the kit for the proper medicine and Marie massaged John's calf, Teyla scrutinized Ronon. His eyes never left John, his fists were clenched, and every muscle was as tight as the string on a bow. He quaked under the strain of holding himself together and watching him do so was almost more than she could bear. Unable to sit and do nothing, she spotted a pack of antiseptic wipes and took a few, gathering his hand in hers.
He pulled away. "Sheppard first."
She reached for his hand again and wiped the cool cloth over bruised knuckles and sliced skin. "Jennifer and Marie are helping him. You need attention as well."
"No, I--"
"Doors are opening," Evan announced. "We're outta here."
As the jumper headed into space, Teyla continued cleaning Ronon's hand, washing away layers of blood and dirt, wishing she could take away the events that put them there.
"No, wait!" John screeched, struggling to get up. "We have to go back. We don't have any enzyme."
Ronon jumped but Teyla blocked his path. "Sit and let us care for him."
Rodney grappled with John, trying to catch his flailing limbs, squawking as a fist slammed into his eye. "Ow! Damn it, Sheppard. That hurt!"
"Let go of me!" John kicked and squirmed. "I need-- I need…" He sagged, his mood changing like a switch had been flipped. "Help me," he begged. "Make it stop."
Rodney clenched his teeth so tight the muscle in his jaw jumped. "I know it hurts. We'll be home soon."
"Home?" John blinked rapidly and grabbed Rodney's arm. "McKay?"
"Yep, it's me, your good friend, Rodney McKay. You're breaking my arm."
John craned his neck. "Ronon?"
"Right here, buddy." Ronon pulled away from Teyla and climbed over Jennifer to crouch at John's side. "How are you doing?"
John frowned, his eyes darting between Ronon and Rodney. "Is this a trick?"
"No," Ronon said. "We're almost home."
"Teyla? Where's Teyla?"
"Here." She stepped over Jennifer and knelt between Ronon and Rodney. "I am here, John."
John squeezed Rodney's shoulder and brushed shaking fingers along Teyla's jaw then looked to Ronon. "We made it."
Ronon nodded, swallowing thickly, and glanced toward Lorne then gasped and stood. "Come here, Sheppard. You gotta see this." He reached down and pulled John to his feet.
"He needs medical attention," Jennifer said.
"He needs this more," Ronon answered, helping John to the co-pilot seat.
Atlantis lay below them, a golden glow in the deepening twilight as the sun set behind it. John clung to the armrests, trembling but mesmerized by the sight. Ronon's entire body shook, his fingers denting the chair's headrest, but his shoulders relaxed a little.
"God, she's beautiful," John whispered.
Evan smiled and suddenly they were soaring over the spires and swooping between towers. John's expression softened as he stared out the window then his mouth twisted in a grimace and he doubled over, clutching his stomach. Ronon eased him out of the chair when the convulsions began.
"Doc," Evan called.
"Home, now, Major," Jennifer instructed as she pushed past Ronon to kneel at John's side.
"Already on it," Evan replied. "Auto-pilot is engaging."
By the time they landed, John was screaming and thrashing wildly. It took all six of them to get him onto a gurney and strapped down.
"Wait!" Ronon called as they sprinted for the door. "Sheppard wouldn't want--"
"I took care of it," Rodney said. "No one will see him."
They dashed through empty hallways to the infirmary suite where three nurses waited. Teyla recognized them as the ones who had spent the most time with Tyre and Ronon during their withdrawal. They wheeled John into the isolation room, and his screams were cut off when the sound-proof doors closed.
Ronon slammed a fist against the door. "Sheppard!"
Teyla laid her hands on his shoulder. "Let them do their work. He is safe with them."
Ronon jerked away and stalked across the room.
"Oh, my God." Rodney leaned against the wall and jammed his fingers through his hair. "Did you see his chest? How many times did they feed on him?"
Ronon kicked the far wall and spun around. "I don't know."
Rodney's brows shot up. "You don't know? How can you not know?"
"I wasn't there!"
Rodney pushed away from the wall. "Where the hell were you?"
"Stop it," Teyla commanded. "Now. There is no blame here."
"I--" Rodney closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."
Ronon turned his back.
Teyla touched Rodney's elbow. "Go brief Mr. Woolsey. Jennifer should have John settled by the time you finish."
He glanced toward Ronon, who was pacing in ever smaller circles, then nodded and left.
Teyla sighed and stepped toward him. "You know that Rodney does not always think before he speaks. He has worked tirelessly to find you. He is--"
"Right." Ronon turned toward her, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "He's right. I should have been with him." He blew out a shaky breath as he pressed himself into the corner. "I should have gotten to him before they…they…"
"Ronon." Teyla reached for him but he shrank away from her and sank to the floor.
"I did things…" He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. "…things I swore I'd never do." Tears trickled unheeded down his face. "The look on his face when I…"
Teyla's heart twisted. "You did what you had to do to survive. John knows that."
His breath hitched as his chin dipped toward his chest. "You don't know what I did."
"But I know you." She sat down and scooted next to him. "I know that both of you are still alive." She clasped his hand between hers. "I know that you do not have to tell me anything, but I am here if you wish to talk." She winced as his crushing grip tightened on her fingers. "I know that nothing you say will change my love for you."
He leaned forward, shoulders shaking. Ignoring the stench and the grime, Teyla wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her, stroking his hair and humming softly.
xxx
John remembered the jumper and screaming then nothing. Finally, the pain dimmed enough that he became aware of his surroundings, and he found himself in the infirmary with people in gowns and gloves flitting around him. Every inch of his body hurt. Muscles spasmed, his insides throbbed, and his throat felt like he'd swallowed sandpaper.
"Doc?" he rasped.
Keller's head whipped up from the data pad she'd been studying. "Colonel?" She handed the pad to a nurse. "Have her check those results again. They can't be right." She turned back to him. "I know you are in pain. We are analyzing blood samples now. We'll give you something as soon as we are sure it's safe."
"Okay." John blew out a breath and glanced around. "Ronon?"
"Doctor Cole is looking after him." Keller's eyes flitted over the monitor by his head. "Besides being pumped full of enzyme, are you hurt anywhere else?"
"Don't think so." He twisted as a cramp rippled across his abdomen but his body wouldn't move. He glanced down. Restraints.
"Sorry," Keller said. "We had to get you off the jumper quickly and you were thrashing so we…" She gestured at the cuffs on his wrists and ankles. "I'll have them taken off."
"No." John shook his head. "Leave them. You'll need them."
She hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"Oh, yeah."
The nurse from earlier returned and handed the pad to Keller. "Doctor Chen says these results are correct."
Keller frowned at the data pad. "I don't understand." She looked at John, her gaze drifting to his chest. "Colonel, were you…fed on by more than one Wraith?"
John clenched his fists, riding out another spasm and fighting the memories. "Why?"
"Enzyme is unique to each Wraith. It has markers and proteins, some of which apparently shouldn't be mixed, like different blood types can't be mixed. We're showing at least four distinct enzyme types in your system and they are fighting each other."
"What does that mean?"
"It means it's going to get worse before it gets better."
"Great." John huffed a laugh. "Just what I needed." He inhaled sharply as pain rocketed down his spine. "Am I going to die?"
"Not if I can help it," Keller replied. "We'll do everything we can, but it's going to be rough." She bit her lip. "And with the way these enzymes are reacting, painkillers aren't an option. Try to remember that."
"I'll try." John arched up when the convulsion began, feeling a scream rip from his raw throat before he was lost again in the haze of pain.
Time passed in a blur. Nothing in his world made sense. He was home, but he was tied down. Agony lanced through him, sharp bolts that sizzled down nerve endings and made muscles spasm, but no one would make it stop. He cajoled and wheedled then begged and threatened then shouted and cried, but the pain didn't end. He was never alone, though. Every time he woke, one of his team was by his side – washing his face with a damp cloth, holding his hand, rubbing healing creams on his wounds, but mostly talking. The words weren't much more than noise, but he clung to the voices. They could be trusted, unlike the ones in his head.
As the hours passed, the true voices grew louder until the whispers in his mind became an echo of a memory. After a couple of days, the pain faded and the words formed ideas and concepts that he understood.
"…vow to not cut his hair until his enemies were defeated. Sorgath Nur, author of the Code of Warriors--"
"Is that why you don't cut yours?" John asked.
Ronon's head jerked up, eyes wide over the top of the book. "Sheppard?"
"Hey, big guy." John smiled tiredly. "You look better."
"You, too." Ronon's gaze darted away. "I better get Keller."
"Ronon, wait." John paused until Ronon met his eyes. "I wanted to say, I mean, you know, for everything you did…"
"Sheppard, you don't have to--"
"Yes, I do." He tugged against the restraints then took a calming breath and tried again. "You saved my life, several times. I don't know how you found me on that hive, but you did, and you found me again when that Wraith…" John clenched his eyes shut as the memory returned unbidden – Jack's hand pressed to his chest, ripping the life from him, giving it back, enzyme coursing through his veins.
"John." Ronon was leaning over him, shaking him.
"Sorry," John choked out, sucking in a delicious lungful of briny Atlantis air.
Ronon patted his shoulder. "I know how you feel."
"Yeah, I guess you do." John ignored the blush heating his face. "Anyway, I wanted to say thank you. You kept me alive, and you didn't let me do anything…stupid." The blush grew hotter. "Even though I tried. And I said some things--"
"Enzyme makes you stupid, remember?"
"I remember."
"Good, 'cause I didn't do anything you haven't already done for me." Ronon set the Satedan history book down and stood. "I'll get Keller."
After he left, John tested the restraints again, trying to not think about how much it felt like being held in that cocoon. The silence was unnerving. Every beep and click of the medical equipment startled him. Circulating air wafted from the vent nearby, tickling his nose. He attempted to scratch the itch with his shoulder but the angle was off. He fidgeted, counted the dots on the ceiling tile, recited all the best one-liners from The Princess Bride.
"Come on, Ronon," he urged.
He pulled against the straps. They still wouldn't budge. He closed his eyes, knowing that Teyla swore meditation made everything better, but images popped into his mind – leering Wraith faces, greedy hands sucking the life from him, cocoons and egg pods and lifeless bodies. He was trapped. He struggled but couldn't get away. Oh, God, he was going to die. He couldn't breathe.
"Get them off him now!"
"I'm trying, McKay. Hold him still."
"Be calm, John."
Gentle hands cupped his face while others pressed on his arms. Suddenly his wrists were free and he bolted upright, gasping for air.
"Relax, Sheppard." Rodney grasped his shoulders. "You're hyperventilating. You have too much oxygen in your lungs. Slow, even breaths." He held John's hand to his chest. "Like this."
John nodded, doing his best to match his breathing to Rodney's. After a few minutes, the tightness in his chest dissipated, and he slumped back, exhausted, finally noticing the others in the room.
"Hey," he said, feeling humiliated. "Sorry for the drama."
"There is no need to apologize," Teyla said.
Ronon tapped his leg. "Flashbacks suck."
"Why don't you three grab a bite to eat while I do a quick exam," Keller suggested, pulling the curtain to cut off any arguments. "How are you doing, Colonel?"
John scrubbed a hand over his face. "Better now, but maybe you should tell me."
Keller listened to his heart and lungs then drew some blood. "We'll have this analyzed, but I suspect it will come back clean. The last batch showed almost all of the enzyme has left your system."
"How's Ronon?"
"Physically, about the same as you minus the enzyme. Mostly scrapes and bruises. He was a little dehydrated and undernourished, but we've taken care of that. You had a particularly nasty laceration on your back that was slightly infected and of course," she waved at his chest, "those."
John glanced down, surprised to see neat white bandages dotting his chest.
"How are you, really?"
He met her eyes. "Right now, I'm just grateful to be alive."
She nodded and squeezed his hand. "We're happy to have you back." She notated his chart then studied him for a moment. "You're going to need to talk to Doctor Sanders."
"I know."
The psychiatrist was a kind man with a military background and he exuded a peace that put John at ease. While John had difficulty talking about his experiences and his feelings, he understood the need for the evaluation. He'd seen too many soldiers try to tough it out on their own and crack under the strain later. He would tell Sanders what he could, though not all. Never all. Some things couldn't be shared.
"Would you like something to eat?" Keller asked.
At the mention of food, John's mouth watered and his stomach growled. "Absolutely. What's on the menu?"
"Let's try some clear liquids first since you haven't eaten in a while. If you can tolerate that, we'll move up to something more substantial."
"Like steak?"
Keller snorted. "Like pudding. Steak comes later."
The broth she brought him was a hit. He was slurping down the last bit when his team returned, smelling of fajitas and chocolate chip cookies. His grumbling over not being brought any was interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn. He wriggled until he was comfortable and let the voices of his team lull him to sleep.
Nightmares dogged him. He jerked awake for the third time in an hour, his mouth filled with the bitter taste of adrenaline and rage. He sucked in air between clenched teeth and exhaled through his nose, trying to get his breathing under control and to make the damn heart monitor stop shrieking.
"John?" Teyla hovered off to his right. "What do you need?"
"The last month of my life back," he snapped then grimaced. "Sorry. Didn't mean to take it out on you."
"You have no need to apologize." Teyla handed him a cup of water which he gulped. "If I could give the time back, I would."
He laid his head back and stared at the ceiling, hating the irritation that bubbled over. "I don't want pity."
"I do not offer it." She was so quiet he finally lifted his head to see if she was still there. She was. "You, Ronon, and Rodney are part of my family. Our souls are intertwined." She held his hand with both of hers, stroking her thumbs over his knuckles. "When you hurt, I hurt."
His throat tightened at her touch, the gentleness such a stark contrast to the memories swirling in his mind that his chest twisted painfully with emotion. He clenched his eyes shut and swallowed the sob that threatened to break free.
She pressed her forehead to his. "Do not let what happened destroy you. Do not hold on to the hate and anger. Let it go." She pulled away. "I will return in a few minutes."
When the door snicked shut behind her, John turned his face to the pillow and let the tears fall.
xxx
The next morning, he felt better until he freaked when the nurse's stethoscope wiggled near his head, convincing him an Iratus bug was attacking. He was still floundering in a sea of rage when McKay entered, tray piled high, talking before he even sat down. John plastered a smile on his face and nibbled on his toast and oatmeal while McKay babbled.
"What I don't understand is where Ronon learned how to blow up a cruiser."
John paused, spoon half-way to his mouth. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, um," Rodney gulped down coffee, "he said that was how he got you out. He blew up a cruiser as a distraction."
"A Wraith cruiser."
"What other kind of cruiser would there be on a Wraith planet?"
John rolled his eyes. "I don't know where he learned it unless it was from watching you do it. What did he say when you asked?"
Rodney flushed a rosy pink. "I didn't ask."
"Why not?" John stirred his oatmeal absently.
"He's not, you know, speaking to me right now." Rodney winced. "I kinda accused him of letting you get hurt."
The spoon clattered on the tray table. "You did what?"
"I didn't mean to," Rodney protested. "I asked a question and it came out all wrong."
"McKay," John sighed, groaning inwardly. "He saved my life, more than once."
"I know that." Rodney pushed his food away and hunched forward, elbows on knees. "I've apologized, but he won't listen." He glanced up, eyes filled with remorse. "I don't know what to do, John."
"I'll talk to him." John sipped his juice and eyed Rodney's leftover scrambled eggs and bacon. "How are things in the lab?"
Rodney brightened and launched into a litany of complaints about incompetent scientists and unfinished experiments. John nodded in the appropriate places while he contemplated Ronon. His friend had always carried the burden of Sateda but it had seemed lighter until Tyre betrayed him. The crushing guilt of becoming a Wraith worshiper had lifted during their kayak race, but John had noticed Ronon's bowed shoulders and unwillingness to meet his eyes the past couple of days.
When Rodney took a breath, John asked, "Have you been back to Liros?"
McKay's brows knitted together. "Where?"
"The planet we went to for the race. M8I…"
"Oh, yeah. M8I-548. There were a few survivors. Captain Johnson is heading up the rebuild. Lorne sent a couple of squads. Why?"
John smiled, relieved to have something new to occupy his mind. "I have an idea."
xxx
Ronon stumbled when the stick smacked his knee. He whirled to block the next blow, but Teyla ducked and spun, attacking from his blind side. They landed in a tangle of limbs and despite his best efforts, she pinned him quickly. He shoved at her, but she held him down then sat on his chest.
"When did you last sleep?"
"Went to my quarters after my shift with Sheppard."
Teyla thumped his shoulder with a bantos rod when he tried to rise. "I did not ask when you were in your quarters. I asked when you were asleep."
"I slept…" He stopped fighting when she arched a brow at him. "I don't know. What difference does it make?"
"The difference is Jinto could defeat you right now." She rolled smoothly to her feet and offered him a hand up. "Perhaps you should reconsider Doctor Keller's suggestion."
"I don't want any drugs. I'm fine." Ronon stomped to the bench and chugged some water. "Doc said so."
"Jennifer said your body was healthy enough to go back to active duty," Teyla corrected, dabbing at her face with a towel. "But we both know your mind is not."
Rage flooded through him and before he realized what he was doing, he was charging at Teyla, stick raised high over his head. She deflected the blow easily and planted an elbow in his sternum and a forearm to his head. He reeled backward, landing hard. She twisted his arm behind his head until his muscles quivered from the strain.
"Your anger and exhaustion are making you reckless. You are not fit for a team right now. I will not have you endangering my life or yours or anyone else's." She released him then crouched in front of him. "I have read your report and John's, and I know both of you well enough to imagine all the parts you left out. What you went through was…unspeakable, but you survived. It is in your past now. Leave it there."
He sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees. "I'm trying. It's following me."
"I understand." She gave a small smile and sat next to him. "I still dream of Michael."
"What do you do?"
She sighed and brushed hair from her eyes. "I hold Torren and Kanaan. I remind myself that the only power Michael has over me is what I give him. I meditate. I know," she held up a hand, "that you do not care for it, but it relaxes me. And if that doesn't work, I take the pills Jennifer gave me."
"Really?"
"There is no shame in seeking help when you need it." She patted his hand then gathered her belongings and left.
Ronon stared after her, lost in thought. He had resisted taking the drugs, preferring to rely on his own strength to get him through the night terrors and flashbacks, but now he wondered if it had been the right choice. In the week since their return, he had eaten his fill, luxuriated in the shower, and enjoyed the comforts Atlantis offered. Sleep was elusive, though, and his body was paying the price. He snapped at people over stupid things, couldn't concentrate. His coordination sucked, and his reflexes were dull. Teyla was right; he'd get somebody killed if they went off-world.
He climbed to his feet, stuffed his towel and water bottle in his bag, and headed to the infirmary. Keller was at a worktable, frowning at a data pad. He took a quick left, detouring to Sheppard's room. The door was open, and he peeked in. McKay was bent over a laptop, typing furiously and muttering to himself. Sheppard was curled on his side, limbs loose in sleep. His hair had been trimmed to its normal spikiness, his beard was gone, and the few bruises still showing were a mottled yellow. A scrub top hid most of the scars. He looked safe.
Something that had been coiled tightly in Ronon's gut unwound a little.
"Oh, hey."
Ronon flinched when McKay's voice caught him off-guard, reminding him why he'd come to the infirmary. "Hey."
McKay set his laptop aside and approached. "Keller's running the last round of tests. If they're clear, she's going to release him."
"Good." Ronon turned to go.
"Ronon, what I said--"
"It's fine."
"No, it's not."
Ronon glanced back over his shoulder.
"I really didn't mean to…" McKay shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "You're always there, you know, racing in at the last minute to stop the bad stuff from happening. I guess I took it for granted. What happened to Sheppard wasn't your fault."
Anger flared for a second, but Ronon wrestled it back down. "Yeah, I know."
"Oh, okay." McKay turned and took a step then turned back. "I'm glad you're home."
The sincerity in the statement caught Ronon by surprise, and he felt a genuine smile blossom. "Thanks, McKay. It's good to be home."
McKay smiled in return then flushed and shrugged awkwardly. "Okay, well, see you later."
Ronon nodded and slipped out to find Keller who looked relieved as she handed over a packet of pills and a page of instructions. He went to his quarters, dialed down the lights and the temperature, swallowed a pill, and lay down. He slept through the night for the first time in weeks.
xxx
Determined to not rely on the pills, Ronon used them only when absolutely necessary, battling his demons by himself as much as he could. Based on the bags under Sheppard's eyes, he wasn't the only one. He spent the required time in Doctor Sanders' office, haltingly recounting their time with the Wraith in broad strokes. Sanders never pushed for details and Ronon rarely offered them, but the man was sharp, able to see through the camouflage without calling him on it.
He and Sheppard spent the next week getting their strength back – jogging, eating, sparring, eating, sleeping, eating. At first, they ate in the infirmary under Keller's watchful eye. Teyla brought a selection of fruit from New Athos and set it by their beds. Whenever Ronon had the urge to horde, he glanced at the bowl and reminded himself that food was always available. When Sheppard was released, they began taking meals in his quarters. Ronon pretended to not notice the wrappers crinkling in Sheppard's pockets when he walked. While he never actually ate any of the PowerBars in Ronon's presence, he kept his hands in his pockets most of the time.
McKay and Teyla dropped by occasionally at mealtime, inviting them to the mess hall, smiling patiently when they declined, bringing them trays filled to overflowing. He and Sheppard didn't discuss their reluctance to be in public; they just didn't go out when most of the population was around, choosing to jog in the early morning hours and spar late at night. Ronon assumed Sheppard's reason was the same as his – too many eyes watching – but he knew they'd have to face it eventually.
One morning after their jog, Ronon decided it was time. He clapped Sheppard on the shoulder when they reached his room. "I'm going to shower. Meet you back here in a few minutes and we'll go get breakfast."
Sheppard hesitated in the doorway, startled. "You want to go to the mess?"
Ronon held his gaze, watching the discomfort flicker in his eyes. "You up to it?"
Sheppard's hand strayed to the neck of his t-shirt then he made a fist and stuffed it in his pocket. "Yeah. I'll be ready."
Ronon nodded and hurried to his room, stripping off sweaty clothes and rinsing off. He pulled on the shirt and pants that made him feel the most like himself and the new boots Teyla had bought him then went back to Sheppard's quarters.
Sheppard was in his regular uniform, sitting on his bed lacing his boots. Ronon didn't question his choice, although Sheppard was not on duty, or the fact that the overshirt was buttoned to the top.
"You ready?"
Sheppard slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. "Yep."
They walked to the transporter and stepped out on the mess hall level. Ronon kept his eyes focused on the entrance, ignoring the gawking scientist and the two Marines who snapped to attention when they passed. When they entered, Sheppard's chin lifted and he nodded casually to the folks in line as he grabbed a tray and perused the food choices. Only someone who knew him like Ronon did would see the stiffness in his spine and the tension in his shoulders. Ronon stood to his left and a step back, blocking anyone from coming at Sheppard from behind.
A few people spoke or waved a welcome, but most followed them with their eyes, conversations pausing as they passed. When they sat down, Sheppard's forced smile vanished and a hand sneaked unconsciously to his collar. Ronon glared at the scientists at the next table until they flushed and turned back to their food.
Sheppard stirred his coffee. "Wonder where McKay and Teyla are."
"It's early for McKay. Teyla's probably feeding Torren." Ronon made himself chew the bacon slowly.
"Oh." Sheppard looked at his watch. "Guess so." He glanced around then folded his bacon in a piece of toast and took a big bite. "God, that's good."
Ronon grunted in agreement, trying to not swallow the entire ibresha/i in one bite. He'd missed fruits and vegetables more than he'd thought possible.
"Hey, there you are!" McKay's voice rang over the chatter.
Irritation flickered on Sheppard's face as every head turned their way until he caught sight of McKay and burst out laughing. Ronon followed his gaze and snorted juice out of his nose.
McKay was blue, a vivid blue that might actually glow in the dark. His face, his hands, his teeth and eyes.
"What the hell happened to you?" Sheppard choked out.
McKay blinked innocently. "What?"
"What?" Sheppard repeated. "What do you mean, what? Have you looked in the mirror lately?"
"Oh, this?" McKay held up his hands. "I had a run-in with a disgruntled piece of tech. Keller says it will fade in a couple of days." He dropped his tray on the table and scooted his chair up. "It's fascinating really. Apparently it's a child's toy. You can turn your entire body any color you want. Even my--"
"Oh, God, please." Sheppard held up a hand. "Don't go any further."
"May I join you?" Teyla asked.
"If you can stand to be seen with us," Sheppard replied, bracing an elbow on the table, his smile genuine.
"I think I can manage." Teyla took a seat. "What are your plans for the day?"
Sheppard launched into a list of things he had to do, starting with going through a million or so emails. Teyla listened, nodding thoughtfully, while McKay shoveled in breakfast, oblivious to the stares and giggles around him. That's when Ronon saw it, the almost imperceptible wink from Teyla and the answering flash of a grin from McKay. Rodney might not be subtle but he was effective. No one in the room gave Ronon or Sheppard a second glance.
For the first time since they had returned, Ronon felt normal.
xxx
Being classified as available for light duty didn't have a whole lot of meaning for Ronon other than his team was not allowed to go on missions. He trained with the Marines, but only the ones he considered advanced and only with someone else in the room in case his rage got the better of him. Sheppard, on the other hand, had paperwork. Lots of paperwork – personnel evaluations and requesitions, inventory, mission reports.
Ronon was certain he got the better end of the deal.
Life was slowly reverting to routine. Ronon was sleeping through the night, usually without the aid of pills. He and Sheppard walked down the halls without people wanting to touch them or stare. Teyla and McKay could be in the same room with them and not have to glance at them every five seconds to make sure they were still there. Sheppard still flinched when someone reached toward him, but at least the panic attacks had stopped.
Ronon and Sheppard were leaving the Wraith language class Doctor Phillips taught when the citywide intercom burst to life.
"All available personnel to the gateroom. Refugees are incoming."
"Refugees?" Ronon asked.
Sheppard shrugged. "Don't know anything about it."
They hustled to the gateroom as the gate burst to life. A couple of filthy Marines staggered through followed by a mass of people and animals.
"What the hell?" Sheppard muttered, hurrying down the stairs and disappearing into the throng.
The noise was deafening – children screaming, people sobbing, animals squealing and yelping, even a couple of wagons squeaking across the floor. Woolsey was shouting orders from the control room overhang while Teyla darted down and grabbed the hand of an elderly man. Scientists and doctors converged, trying to separate the injured from the merely terrified.
Ronon caught snatches of conversation as he waded through the horde to where two women were pushing a cart filled with valuables. A quake had destroyed their village and the valley where it had been was flooding. He knew the Athosians would take these people in, and he was sure the Marines who'd brought them here instead of the alpha site were going to get a lecture from Sheppard that would make a lasting impression.
He moved the cart out of the way and led the women toward a nurse then turned, searching for Sheppard in hopes of catching part of that lecture.
"Damn," he whispered.
Sheppard was on the other side of the room, pinned in a corner by three hysterical teenage girls. Which would usually be amusing to Ronon except that they were clawing at Sheppard's chest. John was doing his best to free himself without hurting them, but they wouldn't let go, their nails raking over his shirt as they clutched it in their fists. Sheppard's face was bone white and his body jerked as he gasped. A panic attack was imminent.
Ronon shoved his way towards Sheppard, but the crowd was thick and unruly, pushing and shouting as soldiers yelled orders. No matter which way Ronon tried to move, people were there, clogging up his access to Sheppard.
Then Lorne appeared, all charming smiles and soft assurances as he herded the girls away from John. Before anyone else could approach, Zelenka moved in front of Sheppard, his face buried in a data pad as he carved a path through the people to an exit. Sheppard followed on his heels and disappeared down the corridor. Zelenka's eyes flicked toward the hallway then he nodded at Lorne and returned to the control room. Ronon exchanged smiles with Lorne as he hurried past, deeply satisfied to know that others were as protective of Sheppard as he was. Well, almost as much as him anyway.
He found Sheppard on a small balcony near the jumper bay, the one he went to when he wanted to fly but couldn't. Sheppard had a white-knuckled grip on the railing as he dry-heaved over the side. Ronon waited patiently until Sheppard took a deep breath and slid to the floor.
Ronon sat opposite him. "You okay?"
Sheppard folded his arms on top of his knees and rested his forehead on them. "I thought so until about ten minutes ago." He looked up. "How long is this going to last?"
"Don't know," Ronon said. "I still have flashbacks from when Tyre took me."
"Really?"
Ronon flushed. "Yeah. Doc Sanders says they'll go away in time."
"What if I can't do this anymore?" Sheppard leaned his head back and stared at the sky. "What if I freak out every time someone touches me like that?"
"You won't."
A smile flashed then was gone. "You sound so certain."
"I am certain." Ronon leaned forward. "Look at me." He waited until Sheppard's eyes drifted to him. "No one expects you to be a hundred percent but you. It takes time. Trust me, I know. But you'll get there."
"How do you know?"
Ronon smiled. "I know you. And it's okay if you stumble sometimes. We've got your back – me and Teyla and McKay, plus Lorne and Zelenka and everyone else here. You're not alone."
"I know." Sheppard ran his fingers through his hair and scratched the back of his neck, trying to hide the blush staining his cheeks. "Thanks."
Ronon shoved Sheppard's knee with a booted foot. "You think Woolsey's got the gateroom cleaned up yet?"
Sheppard's mouth twitched. "I say we don't go to find out. After all, we're still on light duty." He glanced up at the sky and cocked an eyebrow. "Wanna go for a ride?"
"You allowed to fly?"
The smirk blossomed into a wicked grin. "I haven't asked today."
Ronon stood and pulled Sheppard to his feet. "Then let's go."
xxx
Finally the day came when Keller and Sanders declared both of them ready to return to active mission status.
Ronon was cleaning his blaster when his door chimed. "It's open."
The door slid open and Sheppard strolled in. "Hey." He spotted the weapon and grinned. "Teyla told me they recovered that."
Ronon snapped the energy cell in. "Yeah." He twirled it and stared down the sight. "What's up?"
"Grab your gear. Enough for a couple of days."
"Where are we going?"
Sheppard's smile was enigmatic. "You'll see."
Ronon kicked through the pile of clothes in his floor and grabbed his favorite leathers and a long duster coat. He crammed them in a bag along with his whet stone, two throwing spikes, and a dagger. A box of cherry Poptarts, a canteen, and clean socks went in as well. He slung the bag over his shoulder and headed to the gateroom where Teyla and McKay were already kitted out and waiting, Teyla looking amused and McKay looking like McKay.
"Where's Sheppard?" he asked.
McKay waved a hand toward Ops. "Said he forgot something."
"Sorry," Sheppard called, slipping a folded paper in his vest and jogging down the stairs. "You ready?"
Ronon spread his hands. "Yeah. You gonna tell me where we're going?"
"Chuck, dial it up for us." Sheppard adjusted his P-90 and kept his eyes on the gate. "It's been a while since we've worked together as a team. Thought we might spend a little time together."
McKay wrinkled his nose. "You're not going to make us hold hands and sing, are you?"
"Yeah, McKay, that sounds like me, doesn't it?" Sheppard retorted.
"I'm just saying I don't do touchy-feely kumbaya stuff."
"I'm shocked to hear that." Sheppard blew out a deep breath as the wormhole formed. "Let's go."
Ronon kept his hand on his blaster as he stepped through, gasping when he emerged on the other side. "Liros?"
"Yes," Sheppard answered softly.
The booths and flags near the gate were gone. So were the people. Sheppard led the way toward the village in the distance. As they neared, Ronon spotted Marine BDUs among the native garb. The scents of paint and freshly cut wood mixed with roasting meat.
"Survivors?" Ronon asked.
Teyla nodded. "Two hundred and twelve. They insisted on rebuilding. Halling has offered a portion of our crops in exchange for their assistance during harvest."
They stayed for about an hour. Sheppard chatted with the Marines while McKay consulted with one of the engineers on some building specs. Teyla played with the children, and Ronon walked through the new buildings, wondering how long they would stand and how long these people could last before they realized that their numbers were too few to survive as a society.
Despite the mid-afternoon sun, the chill in the air was enough to make him take his duster from his bag. He shook it out and pulled it on then turned as Sheppard approached.
"What now?"
Sheppard grinned. "Now we do what we came here for."
"You forgot to mention how cold it is here." McKay zipped his jacket higher. "I suppose the water is this cold, too."
Ronon turned to Sheppard. "Water?"
"Thought we might try going down the river again." Sheppard waggled his brows. "You up for it?"
"Gotta build our own boat again?" Ronon asked.
"Yep."
"Excuse me?" McKay interrupted. "Did you say 'build'?"
"I told you that before," Sheppard said.
"But I didn't think you were serious. Who builds their own boats?"
"My people do," Teyla said.
"Well, um…" McKay's face reddened. "Good, because I'm sure neither of these two know how."
Teyla smiled. "I did not say that I built them, Rodney. I have never constructed a boat in my life."
McKay turned to Sheppard. "Tell me you know what you're doing."
"Of course, I know, Rodney."
"Oh, God, we are all going to die."
Sheppard laughed as he began hiking toward the riverhead. "Come on."
Ronon leaned forward. "Did you memorize the instructions from last time?" he whispered.
"Nope." Sheppard pulled the folded paper from his vest. "Printed new ones."
"Think he'll notice?"
"He will when I give it to him. It's printed in Ancient."
Ronon chuckled. "Couldn't get Zelenka to print it in English?"
"Didn't need to," Sheppard said. "I trust the two of you to figure it out."
"You sure?"
"Absolutely." Sheppard clapped Ronon on the shoulder. "I know I can depend on you."
The End.
And so ends our adventure. Thank you so much for taking the journey with me. I hope you enjoyed it. An extra special thank you to all of you who have taken time to leave a review. I can't tell you how much your support and encouragement means.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all. See you in 2010!
