Many thanks to all those who reviewed, it's much appreciated!
Now we know there was more to the book than just a simple story, what happens next? And how is John doing?
The Tender Trap.
Chapter 8.
In the throes of his troubled sleep John had sensed a presence nearby, but it was the gurgle of childish laughter that roused him to full awareness.
He'd been back in that damned bunker, restrained hand and foot to the chair as Todd appeared in the entrance for the third time. The memory was so fresh that his heart was racing, hammering against his ribs, and his chest was burning. When he summoned the courage to open his eyes, he discovered his knuckles were as white as the sheets he was gripping, and his damp scrubs were clinging uncomfortably to his hot, clammy skin. Suddenly aware of his audience John attempted to shake off the lethargy that seemed to be his constant companion, and quickly struggled into a sitting position. Too quickly it turned out, as the hurried action sent pain ripping through his shoulder forcing an expletive from his throat. Both Teyla and Camista looked at him with concern.
"John…"
Before Teyla could say any more, he forced a smile he wasn't feeling. "I'm fine – honest. Sure…I'm the first to admit I won't be up to hand to hand with a Wraith any time soon, but at least I'm on the mend."
His team mate's silence continued, but her unflinching, cynical expression spoke volumes. John pressed the advantage of the brief sojourn by reaching out to the squirming child lying against Camista's breast. The baby's small chubby hand grabbed hold of his finger and Torren, who was watching the scene with interest, giggled. His laughter was so infectious, that soon all three adults couldn't hold back the smiles.
"He's looking good, Camista." John glanced up from the child to its mother. The last time he'd seen the young native she'd looked exhausted with dark circles under her eyes, and her complexion drained by the long labour she'd endured. Now her creamy skin glowed with health, and her lustrous flaming-red hair shone. In her own way she was just as beautiful as the woman sitting alongside. "So…how do you like Atlantis?"
"It is a wondrous place, Colonel, and the people have been so kind to us." Camista threw a grateful glance at Teyla, but he could tell something was up. It wasn't anything concrete, but he couldn't shake the vibe he was getting. He waited for the other shoe to drop.
As he shifted to sit a little straighter, Teyla propped a pillow behind his head. He nodded his thanks then turned his attention to Atlantis newest resident. "You're not under my command, Camista, so the name is John. But what's up? You're not happy are you."
Camista went scarlet. "Please don't think me ungrateful…it's not that I'm unhappy. And I do not regret my actions – how could I give up this little one? But…I miss my home. I know our way of life isn't perfect and, from the short time I've been here I understand why you find our customs so strange. It must seem very foreign…however it isn't all bad." She smiled, but her eyes looked sad. "I miss waking up to the salidines' sweet chorus, tending the vines under the warm glow of the morning sun. Most of all, I miss the comradeship of my sisters. At night we would gather together by the fire to share our evening meal under the stars. It was then we would talk about our day, share our dreams for the future, then later we would spar inside the great circle."
At John's raised eyebrow, Camista laughed. "Why do you look so surprised? I have watched Teyla in action – very impressive." She grinned at the Athosian. "And I have seen the women here who bear arms. It is clear they would willingly give their lives to protect Atlantis. On my planet there has been a peace of sorts for many years, but my mother is a cautious woman. As leader of our tribe she wants us to be ready for battle. Make sure our skills are honed so we are prepared should the Semalaens ever attack again. In any case they are friendly bouts, but no less hard because of it. I sit…or did by my mother's side not because I was her only daughter - I'd earned my place by being the best." Camista blinked back unshed tears. "They are my people, John, and I miss them…even my mother." She shrugged. "I can't blame her for hating me. In her eyes I have betrayed them, her, and I know I can't go back." The baby started to grumble and Camista tickled the little chin with her finger. When she raised her head, her expression held a grim determination. "As I said before I do not regret my decision. I just wish things could have been different."
Teyla put her hand over the younger woman's, and gave it a squeeze. "Perhaps it will not always be this way. Mr Woolsey and Major Lorne have already engaged in preliminary meetings with Daalen. From what I have heard, he has not been unreceptive to the idea of a permanent truce."
Camista frowned and her face darkened. "My mother will never agree. A few years ago one of the older women suggested that for the sake of survival we should consider making peace with the Semalaens. Mother had her brutally whipped for treason. No one has broached the subject since."
It didn't surprise him. Pellista didn't seem like the forgiving type but, maybe he'd pegged her wrong. He hoped so. If they wanted the talks to work, they needed her input at the negotiations. Daalen was another matter. He'd only met him once, but on the face of it he seemed to be a reasonable sort of guy. It sparked a memory. "Before that day in the forest, did you know Daalen was your father?" John asked quietly. He watched the anger leave her face only to be replaced with uncertainly. Camista didn't meet his eyes as she answered.
"No…I didn't. But it is of no consequence. He played no part in my upbringing."
"I get that, but if you ask me I reckon he'd wanted to be a part of your life. At least that's the impression I got. For what its worth I'm pretty sure you could start a relationship with him now…if you want to." Camista gave him the evil eye but he ignored it. He was growing tired, and his good arm started to tremble as he swept his longer than normal hair back from his forehead. He wanted a shave, a haircut, and a proper shower. The whole invalid thing was really getting to him.
"Is this a meeting of the John Sheppard Appreciation Society, or can anyone join in?"
John's mouth curled at the edges despite himself. "New members are always welcome, Rodney."
"If it means I'll have to call my future male offspring John, Johnny or Jonathan…I think I'll pass." He rolled his eyes, and snorted derisively.
Camista swept her child onto her shoulder and rose to her feet. "This little one needs feeding, so you may take this chair, Doctor McKay." It didn't escape his notice that she barely glanced in his direction as she started to move away. "Good day…Colonel. I am glad to see you looking better."
He inwardly flinched at the icy tone, but kept his expression languid. "Thanks for the visit…and for bringing the little guy to see me." In response she nodded, sending the long red curls bobbing around her shoulders. Within moments she was nearly out of the ward, her long skirt sweeping the floor as she went.
Teyla looked towards the retreating figure with concern. She kissed the top of Torren's head before lifting her son onto the floor. "I will go after her. I agree with you, John, it would be better for her and the child if she allowed Daalen into her life, but it must be difficult to dismiss her upbringing."
John winced as he reached to take the glass of orange from the tray Rodney had laid across his lap. "By that remark I take it she's finding it difficult to adjust to our way of life?"
"You are the only man Camista is truly comfortable with. The first male nurse who tried to tend little John ended up with a black eye, and a dislocated shoulder." Teyla let out a long sigh. "Jennifer and Carson had a word with her, so have I, but she still tenses up whenever a man she doesn't know approaches. I understand why, she is unused to living in a mixed community. However, even amongst the men she does know, Camista is clearly uneasy."
"Seriously?" Rodney raised an eyebrow, and began rubbing his shoulder. "Shouldn't there be a guard with her…or something?"
"Mr Woolsey suggested that, but as she was only following her instincts I felt it was unfair to treat her like a criminal, especially as we are trying to earn her trust. I volunteered to be her escort while she stays in the city." Teyla informed them in a quiet voice.
"She doesn't know…does she?" John frowned, and they shared an anxious look.
Teyla silently shook her head. "No…and I would appreciate it – Rodney - if you did not impart this information to anyone."
Rodney had just taken a bite of strawberry shortcake. As he started to speak crumbs fell out, and he started to choke. John handed him a glass of water, and Teyla thumped his back so hard he nearly fell off the chair. The scientist looked up indignant. "Well that's nice! How come you trust him…but not me? I can keep a secret too, you know."
"Of course you can, and I meant no offence, Rodney." Teyla crossed her fingers behind her back, and John suppressed a smile at the Earth habit he'd taught her. "I only meant that while John is in the infirmary, he is out of circulation. We however are working and mixing with others around the city and, when people are tired from working long hours it is very easy to accidentally let something slip out – and no one works as hard as you do."
Rodney straightened up, and brushed the crumbs off his jacket. "Well…I suppose I can see what you're getting at. And I do work harder than anyone on the base – but I'm still surprised you thought I would have said anything."
Teyla smiled at him, and gave John a sideways wink. "Again, I am sorry if I gave that impression…now I must be going. It is past Torren's nap time. I will come and visit you later, John."
As Teyla walked away, she passed Ronon on his way in. The Satedan only stopped briefly to ruffle Torren's hair before he came to join them. He stopped by the bed and nodded toward the entrance. "What's with Camista? She almost pushed me to the side when she rushed past me."
John waggled his good hand, and gave him a wry smile. "That would be me…I kind of suggested she got to know her dad."
The Satedan scratched his chin. "Didn't go down well, huh?"
"Yeah…you could say that, buddy." John sighed. "Anyway, you were at the last meeting, right? How did you think it went?"
"Okay…Daalen seems a reasonable guy, but his SIC looked pissed. I reckon he's got some resistance."
"That's to be expected. They've lived this way for generations. It's not possible to change the customs of a lifetime overnight." John reasoned.
He'd gotten the impression that Daalen was receptive to some form of change, plus it was clear from their short meeting that the guy wanted to know his daughter, and her child. It wasn't going to be an easy task, but he hoped the leader would be able to win the support of most of his men. "What about the Vergonans?"
Ronon shook his head causing his dreads to twitch around his face. "Nah…no dice. Woolsey couldn't get her to come to the party."
An image of Pellista flashed into his mind. The Priestess had been furious, her complexion nearly as red as the colour of the hair that had flown around her shoulders as she'd stormed away. In all good conscience John couldn't blame her. His well intentioned interference had resulted in breaking up her family, and destabilizing not just her tribe, but the uneasy peace with the Semalaens.
Had he done the right thing? He was a military commander, but was it his place to play God? He'd inflicted his moral compass onto another culture, and a pang of remorse twisted his gut as he reluctantly accepted that he probably should've kept his opinions to himself. Yet, Camista was no push over. She might be young, but she was a strong, determined, sassy woman who would have told him where to go if, deep down, she hadn't believed he was right. Still, it was a mess he was duty bound to clean up, and an abject lesson to keep his own nose, and opinions, out of other people's business in future. First, he needed to get out of this damn bed.
ooooOoooo
Like everyone else in the beginning Carson had been impressed by the Ancients. Atlantis was stunning, and he was still in awe of the magnificent city. It contained technology that was nothing short of ground breaking. The Ancient medical scanner had saved many lives, lives that would have been lost if he'd been reliant on conventional Earth equipment. Plus, the database was a constant source of information that had helped him not only to seek out new treatments, but had also assisted him in his research.
However, they had also made mistakes. Huge bloody big ones like the Wraith and the Replicators. They'd hidden them too, and true to form he still hadn't made any inroads into finding the Ancient responsible for the debacle on Raedelous. It hadn't been easy, but the advanced technology at his disposal had gleaned enough DNA from the hair samples to confirm one lock of hair had indeed belonged to an Ancient. The other had belonged to a woman, but not an Ancient, probably the woman mentioned in the book.
Nicky had guided him in the right direction but after several days of hard graft, and sleepless nights it was becoming clear there wasn't any information about the people who'd once lived here. It was strange, but then again typical of the Ancients. They'd left behind so much knowledge but as they were just starting to discover, it was the information they hadn't left that was significant. His eyes were red from too many hours scanning the computer, and his head was pounding. Carson opened his desk drawer but finding it empty of Tylenol, impatiently he ran a hand through his hair, pushed back his chair, and got to his feet.
Just as he reached the door the sight of Sheppard attempting to get out of bed put the dampers on any thought of grabbing a couple of pills and bunking off to his quarters. As he approached he could hear raised voices. Rodney was babbling, trying to reason with John as he shouted at Ronon. The Satedan was saying little, but as he stood in front of his friend creating a barrier with his bulk, his expression was torn between anger and frustration. John's face was flushed, and his eyes flashed as he showed more strength than Carson believed he was capable of in his present condition.
"Tired of my hospitality already, Colonel?"
There was silence as all three men turned to stare at him. It was clear none of them had heard him coming. "Well?"
His patient had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed at first, then the unrepentant mood he knew only too well was back in full force. "No offence, Carson, but yeah, after two weeks stuck in bed the décor starts to lose its appeal."
There was something going on here, something more than his dislike of being stuck in the infirmary, and Carson was determined to get to the bottom of it. He nodded to the two team mates. "Rodney, Ronon, I'd like to have a wee word with the Colonel in private please." Ronon seemed reluctant to move. "It's okay, laddie…isn't it, Colonel?" He locked eyes with his patient. "Colonel Sheppard isn't going anywhere until we've had a chat." John glared, but stopped trying to get of bed, even reluctantly allowing him to help him back under the covers.
Rodney was eyeing up the blue jello on the tray that Sheppard had discarded. "If you don't want this…"
Carson put his hand on the tray. "Leave it, Rodney, the colonel may feel hungry later."
"Sure…of course. Okay, Sheppard, I'll see you later…back here I hope." He stammered, red faced as he started to shuffle away. "You coming, Ronon?"
Ronon had barely shifted to the side, and continued staring at Sheppard for a full minute more before he moved. "Don't do anything dumb…"
"Go…get out of here, Ronon…No doubt I'll still be in this freaking place when you come back." John's mouth twisted as he muttered under his breath.
Only when the two men had left the ward did Carson pull up a chair, and take the blue jello off the tray. He dug out a small helping and smiled as the sweet dessert ignited his taste buds. "This is good stuff…you really don't know what you're missing." He pointed at Sheppard with his spoon.
A reluctant smile started to grow on John's face. "That was kinda mean, Carson."
"Aye, well, let's just say I was saving Rodney from himself. He's carrying too much weight these days. Anyway...we both know it's not just being stuck here that's annoying you. Why don't you get what's bothering you off your chest."
John sagged against his pillows, and his face clouded over. "I screwed up. When I heard Camista was going to give up her kid…I couldn't take it. But, regardless of how obscene I found the situation it wasn't my place to judge. Now because of me, she's unhappy. She's living a life she doesn't want, and…I've left an entire planet in turmoil."
Carson waited for a moment before answering. "You're a soldier not a diplomat, son, and don't forget you were wounded. Hindsight is a bugger, and maybe you shouldn't have expressed your opinions, but I don't believe Camista came here because of what you said. She loves that child, its obvious for all to see." Carson smiled. "My mum used to say that bearing children was a tender trap. Once you set eyes on them, they captured your heart forever. Look, John, you aren't perfect – none of us are – but even if you did make a mistake, it wasn't you that caused the problem in the first place."
John looked up with his eyebrows raised. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Carson grimaced, and wondered how he was going to tell him. He hadn't made his findings public knowledge yet. "Well…you know how the missions through the library are decided…"
"Yeah, through books that have been vetted plus the planets mentioned must already be on the database." John interrupted, sounding slightly impatient.
"Aye…but what you don't know is the book linked to your mission was," Carson started to feel the color rise up his neck, "a romance novel."
John sat up straight and flinched as he jerked his bad shoulder. "What...Seriously? C'mon - you've got to be kidding me!"
"Fraid not, Colonel, but I'll cut to the chase. It turns out that once upon a time the men and women on the planet co-habited like anywhere else…until a team of Ancients came to the planet."
"Please tell me they weren't behind the dumb set-up they have now." John muttered, groaning.
In response Carson nodded. "Aye, lad, I'm afraid so. One of them had an affair with a farmer's wife. The men sent the delegation packing, but putting the pieces together from what we already know it would appear the affair didn't just sour the relationship between the couple concerned. That one act tore the whole community apart. Whether or not the men suspected the other women of adultery we'll never know for sure, but they ended up confining them to the house making them little more than slaves. It was some time later…well, you know how that ended up."
"Freaking Ancients…" John slammed his fist onto the bed.
"That isn't all," Carson interrupted before his patient could carry on his rant, sending his blood pressure up, "Nicky found a locket in the library which matched the emblem on the book. The Ancient in question fathered a child. There were two locks of red hair inside. It was sheer luck I managed to get some viable DNA. Anyway, I carried out a comparison with Camista and her child and…they both have the Ancient gene."
"Crap…" John drew a shaking hand over his face. When he glanced back, the pilot looked drained. "I need to fix this, Carson – I need to speak to these people."
Carson put a hand on his shoulder. "And you will. But if you go now, you'll only end up right back here. Look, John…if you rest up and do as I tell you I'll release you to your quarters in a couple of days. I'll even authorise you to attend the next meeting…providing you take it easy, and it takes place in Atlantis. Tell you what, I'll have a word with Mr Woolsey today and ask him to set it up."
John brightened. "You'd do that? Thanks!"
Carson sat back on the chair and took another spoonful of the blue jello. "Thanks aren't necessary, son. It might not be you that started this bloody mes, but to my way of thinking you're the very man to sort it out."
ooooOoooo
TBC
I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review.
And...I want to thank my own lovely mum for the title of this story. For as long as I can remember she has called having children, the tender trap. As she keeps telling me, a mother worries about you from the day you're born, and that isn't something that stops, regardless of how old we become. Even someone as old as me!
