TITLE: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Galaxy
AUTHOR: Merlin7/Clark angel
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them
RATING: T
ARCHIVE: Anywhere
SUMMARY: Post Trio Shep whump. He's in charge, but it's not going as planned.

THE GRASS IS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GALAXY…part 9

The sound of scuffling footsteps brought John back to the land of consciousness. Blinking his eyes a few times, he brought the pacing form of a huge marine into focus. Oh yeah, hostage situation with him being the hostage. He twisted his hands and found them still bound together behind his back. The movement initiated a round of tingling in the numb appendages, eliciting a low groan. Wordak whirled around, his gun trained fully on the pilot. John froze.

"Take it easy, Lt. I'm just trying to get the feeling back in my hands." John was relieved to find the soldier letting the gun drip once he saw his hostage wasn't going anywhere.

"Just don't move from that spot and you'll stay alive. McKay has a few more minutes and then I'm going to have to try another approach."

John began trying to push himself up to a sitting position. "Look, if . . . " A sharp pain sliced through his head as John raised up, resulting in his sinking back to the hard floor. Eyes tightly closed, he pushed the side of his face against the cool surface as he sought to escape the pain and the nausea it had stirred up. It was several minutes before the level dropped off enough he could function again. He opened his eyes to find Wordak squatted a few feet away, watching him intently.

"Colonel?" Wordak almost sounded worried, which gave John a brief flash of hope.

"Lt. Wordak?" John whispered roughly. "Don't guess . . . you remember me yet?"

Wordak's eyes darkened. "I remember I'm caught behind enemy lines and that you're my hostage. What about you? Do you remember?"

John sighed and closed his eyes again. "Yeah . . . unfortunately. Today really sucks."

Wordak stood back up and resumed pacing. "I know what you mean."

John held his breath and managed to squirm around until he was upright, a feat that made his head swim and his stomach threaten to rebel. The pilot took in a series of shallow breaths as he fought not to puke in front of his captor. The room suddenly felt too warm and dark spots danced around the room for a few seconds. When things finally settled, he noted that Wardak was back to pacing nervously. John noticed that his captor was also sweating, his face slightly flushed.

"Maybe you should sit down, Lt. You don't look too great."

"I'm fine, Colonel, and don't try to play your mind games with me. You're the one who looks like he's about to pass out."

"Yeah? Well let me throw you against a wall and then smack you in the side of the head a few times before digging around in your arm with knife and then let's see how well you feel!" John snapped. His head was killing him and his arm still throbbed and he just wanted this to end. He was tired of playing nurse maid to a soldier wacked out on some alien pollen high. The smug grin on Wordak's face was not doing his disposition any good. "It's going to be real hard not to give you permanent latrine duty when you come down off this stuff."

"That might be possible if you were my CO."

John sighed, a low growl intruding on the breath he blew out. "I am your CO. You're in Atlantis. This is our home, our base. I'm the military commander right now, at least until Colonel Carter gets back. Do you at least remember her?"

"Save your fairy tales," mumbled Wordak, but he frowned and rubbed his forehead as if trying to think.

"Look, you went to a planet with Lorne, your –"

"What?" Wordak snapped as his head jerked up, eyes glaring at John. "How did you know my commanding officer's name?"

John froze for a second. "Lorne?"

"Yes," he replied, the gun coming back up to train on John.

"I, uh, think you mentioned it earlier. So, this Lorne, he's your commanding officer? Is that where you need to get back to?"

"That's where I'm going to get back to."

John tried to think. Wordak remembered Lorne for whatever reason and he knew that could work to his advantage. He wished his head didn't hurt so badly. It made it hard to get a coherent thought going. Leaning back against the wall behind him, he tilted his head back to rest it against the hard surface. Sounds faded in and out for a few moments as he tried to concentrate.

"Let me have the radio," John said suddenly. "I need to talk to McKay."

Wordak stopped pacing and stared at John as if he'd lost his mind. "You seem to forget who's in charge."

John narrowed his eyes. "Do you want to get out of here and go home? If you do, then let me talk to McKay."

The marine looked unsure for a moment, but finally got out the radio and turned it on. "McKay, you there?" He paused a moment, listening to something on the other end. "Sheppard wants to say something to you." He kneeled down beside the pilot, glaring at him. "If I don't like what you say, you'll regret trying to trick me," he said plainly as he put the radio up to Sheppard's face.

"McKay, it's me."

"Colonel, are you all right? Well, of course you're not all right, you're being held hostage. I mean has he done anything to you? You aren't bleeding everywhere or anything are –"

"McKay! Get a grip. I'm fine. Listen, Lt. Wordak just wants to go home. I don't think he means us any harm." John raised his brows at Wordak in a silent question. The Lt. shook his head. "Right, he isn't here to hurt us, he just wants to go home. Maybe you could contact his commanding officer, Major Lorne, and see if we could arrange for that?"

"What? What are you . . . oh. . . oh, right, okay. I'll uh, just see if we can arrange that. Good idea . . . right, this could work."

"McKay?"

"Okay, okay! Just give me a minute. I'll let you know when I've talked to Lorne."

John nodded to Wordak, who was looking extremely suspicious. "You don't honestly think I believe you'll just let me go, do you?" he asked as he lowered the radio.

"Why wouldn't we? As long as you leave peacefully, we have no need for you."

The marine scowled at John, shaking his head. "No . . . enemy soldiers wouldn't do that . . . just let me go like that. Something's wrong."

Taking a deep breath to make himself appear more calm than he felt, John continued to push the pain from his body to the back of his mind. "Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. We aren't bad people. I'm sure this was all a big mistake. And you have me as your hostage. They won't try anything against you as long as I'm with you. We can do this."

His expression softening just a little, Wordak chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "What about you? What do we do with you when I'm back home, with my own people?"

"You could let me go . . . to return to my people."

"You would trust me to do that?"

John looked down at the front of his blood-covered shirt, mostly dry now. He glanced over his shoulder at his bound hands, now almost completely numb, before looking back up at Wordak. This time he tried to maximize his weakness. "I don't seem to have much choice in the matter."

Before the burly soldier could respond, the radio chirped. Wordak answered. "Is this McKay?"

John was surprised when the man held the radio out so he could hear. "Yes, yes, this is McKay. We managed to get hold of Lorne and he has agreed to the transfer. The minute you are back at your base, he has agreed to return Colonel Sheppard to us. Do you agree to these terms?"

Wordak looked relieved. "Yes, I agree."

"That means you leave him alone. He better not come in here damaged."

Wordak looked at John. "Might be a little too late for that one, but as long as he's good, I won't do anything else. That part will be up to him."

"Let's just do this," John growled. He was surprised to discover that he wanted nothing more than a clean bed in the infirmary and enough to drugs to be pretty oblivious to everything for at least a few hours. Or maybe days.

"We're on our way," the marine said firmly. "Make sure we are not intercepted."

"Done."

"Come on, Colonel. Looks like I'm going home." Wordak stood and before John could react, the soldier grabbed him by the upper arm and jerked him to his feet.

The world swirled out in a harsh blare of white pain and vertigo, accented by blood rushing in his ears. When John came back to himself, he was being manhandled across the room. "Unlock the door!" the marine demanded loudly, his body almost shaking with pent up energy.

John obeyed, ready to end this little trip down into the depths of hell. Wordak pushed him into the hall and John crashed into the wall, using the surface to stay on his feet. "Didn't your mom . . . teach you not to shove?" he asked breathlessly.

"Walk!" Apparently Wordak's patience was at an end.

With his shoulder brushing the wall for support, John began a staggering gait down the hall. Wordak refused to use the transporter they came to at the end of the hall, afraid it was some kind of trap. So they walked all the way back to the control room, a trip that took almost forty minutes and the last of John's energy. His vision had tunneled by the time they entered the gateroom, his only thought that of putting one foot in front of the other.

Tripping as they entered the room, John went to his knees, jolting his body painfully and arching his headache into the stratosphere. For a moment, he was sure he was going to vomit.

"Sheppard!"

The voice cut through the fog that had filled John's brain, bringing him out of his stupor. He looked up to see Rodney standing where Elizabeth used to and for a moment, he wondered where she was. It hit him a few seconds later like a slap in the face. "I'm okay," he said gruffly.

A big, meaty hand encircled his arm and pulled him roughly to his feet. "Get up, Colonel, you aren't keeping me from going home."

"Leave him alone," Rodney yelled. "Can't you see he can barely stand. You hurt him and the deal is off."

"McKay!" John drawled. He was glad Rodney was playing along, but he didn't want him overacting and ruining the plan. John was almost free.

"I want to talk to Lorne before we go any further. I don't trust you," demanded Wordak, practically holding John up as they stood in front of the gate. He made sure everyone in the room could see the gun he had pressed to the side of John's neck.

"We figured you would," said Rodney. "Dial up Major Lorne," he told Chuck.

The wormhole whooshed into place a few seconds later. Chuck nodded to Rodney, who began to speak. "Major Lorne, this is Atlantis."

Lorne's voice filled the room. "Atlantis, this is Major Lorne. I understand you have one of my men."

"Yes, we do and we'd like nothing more than to give him back. He's been a lot of trouble."

"Lt. Wordak can be like that if you're not on his good side. Is he all right?"

Rodney almost rolled his eyes and John hoped Wordak hadn't caught the intent of his movement. "He's fine, a lot better than two of our men. He's coming through with Colonel Sheppard, but we want the Colonel sent back immediately. If he doesn't come through quickly enough for us, we come after you. Is that clear?" Rodney crossed his arms smugly as he stiffened his body as if at attention.

"We'll send him back. We have no need of your man, we only want Lt. Wordak back. We're ready when you are."

Rodney nodded down to Wordak. "Okay, you're clear to go through. Just remember to shut it down and let Colonel Sheppard dial back to us to come home."

"You have my word," the marine promised. He shifted until he had John by the back of his collar with one hand, the gun shoved into the Colonel's neck with the other as they marched toward the worm hole.

When they emerged on the other side, John stumbled, his legs almost giving way after the wild ride through space on what was probably a double concussion. He saw Lorne waiting for him on the other side and hoped that meant his adventure was almost over. That hope escalated when the gun left his neck, along with the strong grip on his collar that had bordered on strangling him.

"Major Lorne," Wordak said from behind him.

"Lt. Wordak," Lorne said with a grimace. "You'll understand all this later."

One of the marines near Lorne brought up a stunner and fired it. John flinched, but the blast went behind him and he heard a muffle thump at what could only be Wordak collapsing into a heap. Lorne stepped forward to stand right in front of his CO.

"Sir, if you don't mind my saying, you look like crap. I'm sorry about all this. We had no idea."

John finally allowed himself to turn and look at Wordak. One of Lorne's men was disarming him and straightening out his limbs. Turning back to Lorne, John gave a little shoulder shrug, all he could do with his hands still bound behind him. "Not your fault Lorne and I have a pretty good idea what I look like. I really . . . I don't think I feel much better . . . than I look," John said as the dark spots in his vision finally joined together to blot out all the light. He wasn't even aware of falling.

THE END…of part 9