To Freedom

Chapter Eleven: Debt

The "everyone meets Keith" chapter. The most has been changed about the prison scenes; I didn't anticipate the banter between Keith and the guards (especially Lt. Samuels), but it turned out nicely, and of course, there's a little more on the Keith-Schebner connection. Which will really be explored in chapter thirteen. There's been some changes to the Keith-Ronon confrontation as well.

Sheppard found Rodney in his lab. The Canadian scientist was leaning over his laptop and frowning intently at the screen The sphere was hooked to the computer by several wires, and long lines of Wraith text ran across the monitor.

"Wow, that was quick!" Sheppard said.

"Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa whoawhoawhoawhoa whoa!" Rodney jumped and upset a cup of coffee next to his elbow. Thankfully the cup was empty, but that didn't save it from tumbling off the table and shattering on the floor. "Whoa - hey, what's the big idea, sneaking up on me like that!"

"Sorry 'bout that, Rodney," Sheppard sighed. "But I'm surprised. You were able to get information from that so soon? It's been, what, only three hours..."

"Yeah, well," snapped Rodney, flashing Sheppard an ugly glare - he was not ready to forgive Sheppard for making him break his (empty) coffee cup. "Sure, I've managed to retrieve the information, but my Wraith isn't the best, so it's kinda difficult to figure out what it's actually saying."

"Ask Keith, then," said Sheppard.

"What? What - what - I'm not - I mean - " Rodney stammered. "I mean, my Wraith is passable, okay? And from what I've been able to glean...a lot of this information is pretty much useless."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sheppard raised an eyebrow.

"It means what it means," Rodney said most unhelpfully. "It's a lot of logistic stuff, having to do with the base's day to day operations. Not very useful when it comes to the Wraith in general."

"Keith did say he didn't have very high clearance," Sheppard said. "But there's gotta be something we can use."

"Yeah, some. I found out how well-defended the base was, as well as the address of the planet it's on. In case, you know...anyone wants some revenge," Rodney said. "And - oh yeah. You're right."

"Right? About what?" Sheppard asked.

"About how long you were imprisoned," Rodney said. When Sheppard continued fixing him with his "I don't get it" look, Rodney threw his hands into the air and said, "Remember? We argued back in the meeting room about how long you've been there."

"Yeah, a week," Sheppard said. "Either your sense of time is - "

"Well, no," Rodney said. "If the information in here is correct, the planet the base is on rotates around its axis at approximately three times the rate that Lantea does."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning that one day on Lantea would equal about, uh, three days on that planet. Give or take. So what was a week to you on that planet was a little over two days for us."

"Is that so?" Sheppard drove a palm into his forehead. "Well - gee - that makes sense! And I thought you people were just being slow about rescuing me."

Rodney looked affronted. "Of course not! You have no idea, Sheppard, I spent every waking moment - "

"I know, I know, Rodney." Sheppard cut off his friend before he could begin to rant. "And thanks for that. For looking for me. But I got out on my own, didn't I?"

Rodney looked like he wasn't about to let this tangent drop, but only for a moment, and then he returned to the laptop. "So, uh...there's a section I've kind of been unable to translate. I'm thinking it discusses the Wraith's research into humans, which is something I'd really like to see. Maybe it'd shed some light on their society, their physiology. I bet Carson would really appreciate it."

"But you haven't been able to translate it," Sheppard said."Right?"

"Well, no...not as accurately or thoroughly as I'd like to," Rodney said reluctantly. "It starts using a lot of what I think are technical biology terms that I obviously don't understand. It's kind of a shame, but..."

"Keith," Sheppard suggested, springing his plan once again. After all, the only way his friends were going to get to trust Keith was to get to know him. "Keith knows. That's his area of study. Hell, he probably wrote all those files. Why don't you go talk to him?"

"What? What? Are you - I mean - you've gotta be kidding!" Rodney's eyes grew to the size of suacers. "But he's a Wraith!"

"Yeah, and he saved my ass, Rodney," shot back Sheppard. "Look...just go talk to him. Okay? He'll be more than happy to help you. It won't hurt. And if you're scared, that's what the guards in the brig are for, yeah?"

Rodney opened his mouth, presumably to keep on arguing, but then clamped his mouth shut again. "O-okay. All right, then. Fine. I guess I'll go see your little Wraith friend..."

Rodney found the Wraith - apparently "Keith" - wedged in the corner of his cell, as close to the bars as he dared, and craning his neck forward. It looked like he was trying to stare into the cell next to him, but nobody was in it. Unlike Sheppard, Rodney did not enter Keith's cell but stopped a safe distance from it, which to him was the opposite side of the room.

Schebner unleashed a high-pitched giggle, which did nothing for the scientist's nerves. "You shut up," shouted one of the guards. This comforted Rodney more than he'd admit.

"Schebner," Keith mumbled.

"Lord Wraith!" Schebner said after another stream of giggles.

"Shut up!" yelled the guard again. "Listen, you two, you'd better not start communicating or we're gonna keep one of you stunned, got it?"

"Do you even know who this other prisoner is?" Keith said, still in a mumble.

"Doesn't matter," the guard said. "Keep your mouth shut, Wraith, or I'll shut it for you."

This guard certainly liked to make threats, Rodney thought.

"Of course, Lt. Samuels. I wouldn't dream of contesting your authority," Keith said. He sounded slightly sarcastic, which kind of bowled Rodney over. He hadn't thought Wraith capable of sarcasm.

But Keith, he had to admit, was not a typical Wraith. He was about a foot shorter than typical for the commander caste, and his eyes were wide and moon-colored. At least, what little of his eyes that Rodney could see beneath his Sadako-esque curtain of hair.

"Why don't you move, Wraith," demanded Lt. Samuels. "Face it, we're never gonna let you see the other prisoner, so you might as well - "

"I just want to know if his name is Schebner or not," Keith snapped. "Can't you fulfill a simple request?"

"No, and shut up - oh, hey, Dr. McKay," said Lt. Samuels; he'd glimpsed Rodney over his shoulder. Rodney offered him a flutter of a wave.

"Well, uh, hi," Rodney said, stepping forward so that he was directly in front of Keith's cell. He had the feeling the Wraith's eyes moved beneath his hair to focus on the scientist's face. "Um, I'd like to talk to the prisoner a little? Yeah? If it's okay?"

"Hee hee, the Wraith will rise, yes they will!" cried Schebner.

Lt. Samuels stomped over to Schebner's cell and pointed his stun gun directly at Schebner's face. "You shut your goddamned trap or - "

With great effort, Rodney tore his attention away from the drama unfolding with Schebner and focused on Keith. The Wraith had unfolded himself from the wall and strode forward so that he was staring directly at Rodney. He'd even brushed the hair out of his face so that his eyes were visible. Rodney discovered that he didn't much like this Wraith's stare. It was so piercing, and he wondered if Keith needed to blink.

"Why, hello there, Dr. McKay. It's nice to meet you," Keith said.. "Are you having any success with your work?"

"Uh..." said Rodney, rubbing his hands together just to do something with them. "Uh...well. Kinda. Kinda sorta."

Very suave, big guy! he told himself fiercely. But still, it was hard to be suave when a life-sucking alien stood on the other side of the bars! He had the right to be a little nervous. Even though the life-sucking alien wasn't doing anything halfway threatening. Hell, he'd greeted Rodney as politely as a British gentleman. Much more politely than most humans treated him.

"Have you found anything of use to you?" said Keith. "I...I'm afraid that there isn't too much information pertaining to tactical and security matters. I didn't have the clearance to view those..."

"Um." Rodney paused to gather his wits. "Um...so you're a scientist."

Keith nodded. "Yes, I am. I studied humans."

"Humans fall before the Wraith, before the Wraith," Schebner sang to the tune of "London Bridge Is Falling Down."

"All right, can you please turn him off!" Rodney yelled, rounding on the two marines who were now heckling Schebner.

"He's not a TV show!" shouted Lt. Samuels.

"Stun him or something! I'm trying to have a conversation here, dammit!"

"It's all right, Dr. McKay." Keith cut in. "Eventually, you start tuning him out."

"Same way I just tune out Zelenka's whining, huh," Rodney said with a little chuckle. He caught himself in a flash - was he laughing at something a Wraith had said? No, that couldn't be. It didn't matter if Keith had yet to snarl or say "I am your death." He was still a Wraith, still deadly.

When Keith spoke, his voice was soft and hesitant. "You are afraid of me, Dr. McKay."

Want a gold star, Captain Obvious? he thought, but didn't voice this thought. That'd have been suicide. Instead, Rodney shrugged and manged, "Uh, yeah. Well. What of it?"

"But why? I'm not going to hurt you. I won't hurt John and I'll never hurt any of his friends," Keith said, his voice quiet, but his every word flashed with fierce determination. "I promise, Dr. McKay."

Rodney was so taken aback by the passion in Keith's voice - not just passion, but sincerity - that he had nothing to say. He could only stand there, open-mouthed, staring at Keith as if he'd grown a second head. For all means and intents, he had. No Wraith talked that way. John. He called Colonel Sheppard "John."

"It is a promise, Dr. McKay," the Wraith said. "And I do not go back on my word."

Rodney should have scoffed at that - if there was one thing he'd learned about the Wraith, it was that promises meant nothing to them. Yet here was this strange silvery-eyed Wraith, talking with no guile, no hint of deception, about making a promise and keeping it. For the first time, Rodney found himself understanding why Sheppard trusted Keith so much.

"Uh...Keith..." he said. "Keith...what exactly are you to Sheppard?"

Keith blinked for the first time. "Hmm. I don't know. I wonder."

"Oh. Okay," was all Rodney could say.

His stupid statement was punctuated by a new paroxysm of giggling from Schebner. He whirled around indignantly to face the other cell, where the prisoner was rocking back and forth on the bench with his head thrown back. The guards were pointing their stun guns at Schebner and they were conferring amongst themselves - it seemed they were debating whether to stun him or not.

"Stun him, goddammit!" Rodney screamed. "How do you stand it? Staying here all day listening to him babble - "

"Be glad you don't have our jobs, then, Dr. McKay," Lt. Samuels said with a scowl. "Are you done yet?"

"No," Rodney said - he had yet to even talk about the real reason he'd come here, and that was to get Keith to help him to translate. Somehow, he felt that Keith would help him without protest. "Hey, listen, uh - "

Horror of horrors, his earjack crackled and Zelenka's annoyingly familiar voice issued from it. "Rodney, um, we have something that you need to see."

"Can't it wait?" snapped Rodney, irritated.

"No, it cannot!" cried Zelenka. "Listen, you had better get down here as soon as possible - "

"Okay, okay, I'm coming. Just - just give me a sec. It's kind of a long way from the brig to the lab, you know," said Rodney. He turned to Keith and waved a little at the Wraith since he didn't know what else to do.

"Wait, Dr. McKay, about this Schebner - " began Keith.

"Hey, I'll be back, so don't go anywhere!" shouted Rodney, and he only realized how stupid his words must have sounded when he'd exited the brig and reached the hall. Of course, Keith wasn't going anywhere - he was stuck in the cell!

"But...I can't," Keith said after Rodney had left. He sighed, shrugged, and resumed his attempts at peering into Schebner's cell.

"So, how are you holding up, Keith?" said Dr. Carson Beckett. "Don't worry - you might feel a wee bit uncomfortable but this will be over quickly."

"No, no, I'm perfectly all right. Thank you for your concern, Dr. Beckett," Keith said. His arm was extended and his sleeve rolled back so Carson could insert a needle into his arm and collect a blood sample.

"Ah, no problem," said Carson, a bit flustered.

No, not just a bit. Here he was, sitting next to and holding a conversation with a Wraith! All the same, he didn't feel the same sense of danger and urgency as he had when he'd collected samples from an unconscious Steve. The doctor couldn't deny what Colonel Sheppard had said - Keith was a different kind of Wraith. Wide-eyed, soft-spoken, and best of all, cooperative. Perhaps it was because the marines were aiming stun guns at Keith's head.

But somehow Carson didn't think that was it.

"All done," Carson said, slipping the needle out of the Wraith's forearm and examining the black blood collected in the syringe. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome," Keith said, lowering his head in the suggestion of a bow. He rolled down his sleeve again, but not before Carson saw that the small needle puncture had already healed over.

"Really, thank you," insisted Carson as he packed away his medical gear. "You don't know how much of a benefit this is to us. There's still so much we don't know about Wraith biology, and, well...I'm glad you're willing to help us. But I have to ask - why?"

Sheppard had said that Keith was a "nice guy", and Carson was finding that evaluation very hard to disagree with, even though Keith was a Wraith. But Sheppard himself hadn't understood why Keith had helped him so much; Carson, too, could see no reason for Keith to so willingly ally with the expedition. Willing enough to offer himself for research and give the team valuable intel. There was nothing in it for Keith; the Wraith must know this.

Keith blinked. "I...ah. John believes he owes me something because I helped him, but..."

He paused for an inordinate period of time. The only sound in the brig was the pacing of the marines guarding Schebner and Schebner's snores (the insane man had only fallen asleep after the guards had slipped sedatives into his food). Carson was patient enough to wait, because he sensed that what Keith was about to say was highly important. The young Wraith lowered his head before speaking again.

"But John is wrong. I am not the one who has helped him. He may not realize it but...he is the one who has helped me. I had no life back there. No life, no hope. I was an outcast among my people. If I had stayed, I would not have...that is to say...John gave me hope. For the very first time, I realized there was something more, and I had the means to achieve it. John helped me escape. And now...I...well. I owe him."

"I see," said Carson, his mind whirling. "I see. So you're trying to repay your debt by helping us?"

Keith said, "Yes, Dr. Beckett. That is why I'm helping you."

Who would have thought it. A Wraith with a sense of honor... Carson would be lying if he said he wasn't overwhelmed - yet in a way, he understood. Understood the way that Keith spoke about Sheppard, with such admiration, with such...oh, no, it was too strange to think of it that way. But Carson couldn't deny the way Keith's eyes lit up when he said Sheppard's name.

"Well, I'll be seeing you later, lad," said Carson, giving Keith one last smile as he stepped outside the cell. The bars slid shut again and the force field hummed back in place. Keith returned Carson's smile, surprising the doctor in a pleasant way.

"Wait - Dr. Beckett," said Keith suddenly, as Carson turned to leave. Carson turned around.

"Yes? What is it?" he said.

"Well...I was just wondering..." Keith said. He shook his head, his white hair swinging, before speaking again. "I just wanted to know...when can I be let out of this cell?"

Carson felt a stab of very real sympathy for for the Wraith. He shook his head too, and said, "I'm sorry, lad. I don't know. I'm not in charge of that sort of thing. I'm very sorry..."

"No, no, it's okay." Keith smiled again. "I shouldn't have - "

"Oh, no, no, no, I understand," Carson said. "Listen - I'll try to put in a good word for you with Elizabeth, all right?"

Keth nodded again. "Thank you, Dr. Beckett."

"No problem," said Carson, and he left the brig to thoroughly examine in his lab the samples he'd taken from Keith in his lab...after he argued Keith's case with Dr. Weir, of course.

Sheppard sat in the Atlantis mess hall, toying with the salad on his tray. The food looked and smelled heavenly, but for some reason he just wasn't hungry. Maybe it was because he'd survived on nuts and dry biscuits and gray guel for the past week, but he suspected it was something else. That something else had long white hair, large silvery eyes, and slits in his hands.

And was still stuck in the city's brig.

It had been almost two days since Sheppard's return to Atlantis, and so far Dr. Weir hadn't shown a sign letting Keith out his cell. Sheppard couldn't say he didn't blame her. After all, Keith was a Wraith. Still. After two days, everyone should have figured out that Keith meant them no harm. At the very least Carson had figured it out - he and Sheppard had talked not long ag, and Carson had said that Keith was a nice kid who'd been an invaluable help not just to Sheppard but to the entire expedition, and to keep him locked up was inhumane.

As for the others, Sheppard didn't know. Rodney had disappeared into the lab to fix some fatal mistake an underling had made, so he was too busy to tell Sheppard what he thought of Keith. Sheppard had already spoken to Teyla about visiting Keith, which he supposed she was doing at the moment. As for Ronon...the big guy seemed to be making himself scarce. Sheppard hadn't seen him once since Ronon had first come into the infirmary to greet him a few hours after his return.

Sheppard's musings on Ronon were cut short when a famliar voice said, "John. May I join you?"

The colonel looked up, surprised, to see that Teyla had appeared and was standing opposite him. "Oh, sure. Go ahead."

"Thank you, John," Teyla slid in the chair opposite Sheppard, setting down the tray she was carrying. "So...how are you feeling?"

Sheppard smiled. "I feel great. I wasn't injured that badly, you know. Carson says I could probably return to active duty any time now."

"That's very good to hear," said Teyla, her smile widening just the slightest. "I take the Wraith did not leave you with lasting damage?"

"Nope," Sheppard said, spearing a cherry tomato with his spork. It spurted liquid and seeds into the salad dressing. "Thanks to Keith."

"Ah, Keith," Teyla said, looking a little awkward. "I went to speak with him."

'Did you now?" said Sheppard after he'd popped the leaking tomato into his mouth. "So. How was it?"

"It was...ah..." Teyla shook her head. "He was...very interesting. I have never seen any Wraith like him before."

"Yeah, same here," said Sheppard. "Keith is different."

Teyla said a little ruefully, "He seemed rather nervous around me. It seemed that he sensed there was something different about me - perhaps my Wraith DNA - and didn't know how to behave. It was very strange." She stared pensively to the side. "I have never before seen a Wraith at a loss for words."

Sheppard laughed. "Ha ha, yeah. Better get used to it, 'cause Keith's at a loss for words more often than not. That kid never knows what to say."

"You two seem to have become..." Teyla paused. "It's very unusual. A friendship between a Wraith and a human."

Friendship? Keith's voice rang in Sheppard's ears, saying with ferocious conviction, "I love you, Colonel Sheppard, I love you, I - "

Sheppard shook his head to clear his head. He did not want to be reminded of Keith's supposed "love" of him.

"Yeah," he sighed, resting his chin in his hands. "He's a good kid, Keith. I only wish Elizabeth could see that. He's not trying to sabotage the city - he saved my damn life. You'd think we could treat him a little better."

"Still, he is a Wraith," said Teyla. "Dr. Weir...and all of us...do have a right to be cautious."

"And I understand that," Sheppard said. "But it's been two freaking days! Isn't that enough time to determine if he's a threat to Atlantis or not? Well, all the evidence says he isn't! He helped me escape, he's cooperating with Carson's research, he even hacked his own base's computers to download all that intel! And according to Rodney, it's good intel. So just what are we waiting for?"

"I can...I can see your point, John," sighed Teyla. "I, too, do not believe him to be a threat. However, the final decision is Elizabeth's. And besides..."

Whatever Teyla was going to say next would have to wait, because at that moment Ronon strode to the table, balancing a trey in one hand. "Hey," he said gruffly. "Mind if I have a seat?"

"Sure, go right ahead," said Sheppard, a little surprised. Why was Ronon talking to him now when he'd been avoiding Sheppard for the past two days? Although Sheppard had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why Ronon had been keeping clear of him...

"So..." said Ronon, looking at Sheppard as if he was expecting Sheppard to blow up. Which needless to say annoyed the colonel.

"Yeah? What is it?" he said.

"Are you sure you're okay?" said Ronon. Sheppard blinked.

"Yeah, I am. Beckett gave me a clean bill of health, so here I am," he said. "Besides, I feel perfectly fine."

"But the Wraith..." Ronon paused. "They didn't do anything to you, did they?"

"Huh? What?" Sheppard was so taken aback by the question that he scraped his chair backwards. "Uh - well, no. I mean, nothing permanent. They did feed on me tons of times but Keith gave me my - "

Ronon's scoff was loud enough for all that the table to hear. Teyla turned to Ronon, looking concerned, and said, "Ronon - "

"What? What's the matter?" demanded Sheppard, now defensive.

"You know," growled Ronon. "That Wraith - "

"Keith? No, you can't shoot him," Sheppard snapped "He saved my life - "

"He's a Wraith!" yelled Ronon, surging to his feet. "Doesn't matter how polite or helpful he's acting - it's all just an act. He's having us on, you should've been the first to realize that!"

"Hey, don't go saying stuff you can't prove," Sheppard said, standing as well. He knew that Ronon's objections were perfectly valid - more than anyone Ronon had reason to hate the Wraith. But Keith wasn't a typical Wraith, he had done nothing wrong, and to hear such accusations being hurled at him was more than Sheppard could bear.

"Ronon, John, " said Teyla, standing as well and holding up her hands. "Stop this - "

"The Wraith messed with your head," Ronon said, his voice heavy with hatred. "That's why you're sticking up for them, isn't it?"

"Listen, buddy, I'm not 'sticking up' for the Wraith in general, I'm sticking up for Keith," Sheppard said.

"So what!" snarled Ronon. "There's no difference. He's a Wraith and he can't be trusted. The sooner you realize that..."

He let the words trail off, but didn't need to say anything else. Fixing Sheppard with one last glower, he whirled around and stomped off, leaving behind his lunch tray. Sheppard watched him go, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut, and turned grimly to face Teyla.

"You know how Ronon is," sighed Teyla, shrugging. "We cannot change him."

"I know," said Sheppard, shaking his head. "I know, and I understand why he's the way he is. But would it kill him to just give Keith a chance?"

Both both of them knew that was never going to happen, because Ronon was Ronon, and Keith a Wraith. It was a law as unchangeable, if not more binding, than gravity.

"Please, Elizabeth. That's all I'm asking," Sheppard said, gripping the edge's of Weir's desk and leaning forward. "Just let him out of the damn brig."

"John..." Weir shook her head. "I'm sorry, John, but - "

"Yeah, yeah, I know, he's a Wraith so he's dangerous!" Despite himself, he erupted. "I know. I know. But Elizabeth. You've been down to see Keith himself. Tell me, honestly: do you think he's a danger to us?"

Weir took in a deep breath before speaking again. "No. No... But, all the same - "

"The intel Keith gave us is good. I'm sure Rodney's already told you?"

"Yes I know he helped you escape. But John, he's a Wraith, he - "

"Look, damn it, if it wasn't for Keith I'd be six feet under! No, scratch that - I'd be Later's meal!" Sheppard yelled, slamming a fist into the desk; Weir winced when the papers, pens, and knicknacks on it jumped. "You know this, Elizabeth! Keith saved my life. I owe him. Allowing him his freedom, it's the least I could do for him."

"Listen, John," Weir said, her eyes flashing, "I understand what you're saying."

"Then why don't you let him go! Assign some marines to guard him if you're really so worried," Sheppard said. "Look - if Keith was a human, you wouldn't have even thought of imprisoning him, would you? Hell, you'd probably have given him a medal!"

"Yes, John, but the trouble is that Keith's not a human," said Weir. "Like it or not, no matter how helpful he's been, he's a Wraith. The enemy."

"Keith's not our enemy!" shouted Sheppard. "He doesn't think like the rest of them. He's a defector. Aren't we supposed to offer asylum to defectors?"

Weir looked ready to protest again. Well, she could go ahead and protest all she wanted. Sheppard was getting tired of arguing. He'd had this conversation too many times already, and always it ended the same. If Atlantis wanted Keith to die behind bars, then Colonel Sheppard could do nothing to stop it. It was a terrible thought but it was becoming more true with every passing second.

But to Sheppard's astonishment, Weir didn't argue. Instead, she shook her head in a resigned way before looking back at him and saying, "All right, John...I can see your point, not to mention you and Carson would keep badgering me about it until my hair is gray, knowing how you're like."

Sheppard smiled and she cracked a slight smile too, but when she spoke again her expression was serious. "Very well. I'll agree to release Keith - but he must have at least four marines with him round the clock."

"Fair enough," Sheppard said. "So, when are we going to release him?"

"Well...I was thinking, right about now," Weir said as she stood and headed for her office door. "You coming with me?"

Sheppard wasted no time following.

Keith had lost all sense of time during his imprisonment in the Atlantis brig. He couldn't tell if it was day or night, due to the constant darkness, but he was sure he'd been here for more than a day. It didn't matter how much time passed because every hour felt the same; him pressed in that corner, craning his neck, twisting his body, doing his best to get a view, however slight, of who was inside the cell on the far end of the brig...

Schebner, apparently. An insane prisoner called Schebner, who the guards enjoyed needling when they weren't sedating him to sleep. At least this prisoner took their attention off Keith. He couldn't stand their sneers and taunts - it was too much like the way his superiors had behaved back at the base.

He longed to talk to this Schebner, ask him questions, but every time Keith made to contact the other prisoner the guards put a quick stop to it. In fact, they didn't like it when he talked at all. The only reason he knew their names was because he'd read their nametags, a fact that disconcerted them because the room was too dark for anyone to see the tiny letters from Keith's distance. Well, perhaps too dark for a human.

Occasionally there were visits. The last one he'd gotten had been from Dr. McKay, and they had spent what felt like hours translating the information from the sphere. Keith found that he quite liked the scientist. He'd started off jumpy and cautious and couldn't talk without stammering, but by the time the two of them had gotten absorbed in their work Dr. McKay had let his wariness drop and became relaxed and much more natural. At times he even derailed the discussions about how to parse a phrase into rambling about a scientist called "Dr. Zelenka," who Dr. McKay considered far below his notice, and mourning the loss of something called "blue jello" from the cafeteria menu.

Before Dr. McKay had been a woman, Teyla Emmagan. Keith had been apprehensive about her - although she appeared human enough, something about her presence was very much like that of a Queen. When she approached he felt the same oppressive weight on his mind that always accompanied visits to his Queen, but there was something different about Teyla's. It was much less powerful, more a whisper at the edges of her presence than her entire aura. Soon he was able to relax somewhat around her, though their conversation had been much briefer than the hours he'd spent with Dr. McKay.

But no one had come around for several hours now. He felt lonely, even though the brig was hardly unoccupied. It felt strange without the perpetual hum of hundreds of Wraith communications drifting through the back of his mind. He'd never thought about his connection to the telepathic network before, and why should he? It just was. Now that he'd been severed from it, the loss gaped open and acute.

He could sense the humans, but their intents were not friendly. When they spoke it was to shout orders at him. He and a thickset Lt. Samuels had gotten off on a particularly bad start; Samuels was highly suspicious of Keith's efforts to see Schebner, and whenever Keith moved to the front corner of the cell he'd aim his stun gun straight at Keith's head. It was easy to ignore him, though, if he wasn't talking.

The brig door opened. Keith blinked and stepped to the front of the bars, although he didn't come near enough to activate the force field.

"Don't try anything, monster," sneered Samuels.

"Put it down, Lieutenant," said a familiar voice.

"John!" cried Keith. And, "Dr. Weir?"

Lt. Colonel John Sheppard offered him a smile and wave, but Dr. Elizabeth Weir's face was stony. Behind them were four marines.

"Open it," Weir said to the guards.

The force field hummed out of existence and the cell door opened. Keith took a step forward, but stepped back when the guards and marines aimed their guns at him. He glanced back and forth between Sheppard and Weir, apprehensive.

"John, what's going on?"

It wasn't Sheppard who spoke, but Weir. She said, "Listen, Keith. We've decided to release you from the brig."

"Really?" Keith couldn't stop the surprise from slipping into his voice. He took a breath to collect himself before saying, more calmly, "Ah. So you have finally decided to trust me."

"Yes, well..." Weir paused. "We currently don't have any reason to doubt your good faith. Nonetheless - " her tone became much more sharp " - you will have at least four marines accompanying you around the clock. Do you understand?"

As long as none of the marines were Lt. Samuels, he could handle them. Keith looked Weir in the eye and nodded. "I understand, Dr. Weir. You have the right to be cautious."

"I'm glad you understand," Weir said.

"Yeah...sorry about that," said Sheppard with an apologetic shrug. Keith shrugged in response, hoping that he was coming across as nonchalant. Guards or no, he was getting released...and that potentially meant he would have an easier time getting answers. Answers about Schebner...

"Come," Weir said. "We'll show you to your new quarters."

"Yes. Hopefully, they'll be more comfortable than...this," said Keith.

Samuels' scowl intensified. "This is already more than you deserve, Wraith," he spat.

"Hey, easy, Lieutenant," Sheppard said, throwing Samuels a glare.

Weir spoke above them. "The guards will give you permission to leave your quarters if you ask for it. However, there are certain areas that, guard or no guard, you will not be allowed to access. The gate room, for instance, will be off limits. Do you understand?"

That was already more than he could hope for. Why would he want to use the Stargate, anyway? He was safe here. "Very well."

"Good," said Weir. "Let's go."

She turned around to leave, and the four marines with her followed without a word. Sheppard fell into step with Keith, and together the group made their ways into the hallway of the city proper.

Keith blinked, startled by the city's midday brightness. His eyes adjusted quickly and he soon darted glances back and forth, drinking in all the sights. This was his first time getting a good view of Atlantis. He hadn't seen much besides the brig, and on his trip from the gate room to the brig he'd been too disoriented to notice his surroundings. Now, he couldn't keep his eyes off the soaring ceilings, Ancient decor, and the uniformed personnel who backed off, surprised, when they saw him...

The young Wraith sighed inside. He should already be used to their viscerally familiar reactions.

"I made sure you got a room with a view," Sheppard was saying. "You'll like it, Keith."

He smiled, but as quickly as it'd come the smile slipped from his face and his entire body tensed. Keith stopped mid-step, startled by the sudden change that had fallen over Sheppard. He expected the marines to coerce him into walking again, but they too had stopped.

"Oh, hey there, Ronon," said Sheppard, his tone casual, but the tension had not left his body. He resembled a tightly coiled spring.

A man stepped straight into the path of the marine convoy, a tall, well-built man with dreadlocks and a dangerous glower on his face. A glower directed not at Sheppard or Weir or the marines, but -

Keith took a step back. Nobody had ever looked at him like that before. Later and other Wraith was always sneering and disdainful, and Sheppard's anger was fleeting. This man...hatred was etched into every line of his face and blazed in his eyes like twin infernos. He was looking at Keith as if...as if he wanted nothing more than to kill the Wraith on the spot.

Keith would be lying if he said he wasn't terrified.

"Hello, Ronon," Weir was saying. "What is it?"

Ronon ignored Weir's question. He walked closer and closer to Keith - Shepard and the marines closed in around the Wraith - and growled, "Where're you taking that?"

Taking what? Keith wondered, until he realized that Ronon was referring to - to him, of all people. Indignity flared inside him.

"We're taking Keith to his quarters," Sheppard said.

"You're releasing him from the brig?" Ronon said. "Why?"

"Because," said Sheppard, his tone exasperated, "we don't have any reason to keep him there."

Ronon rounded on Keith. "Hey, listen, you. I don't care what Sheppard says, or what anyone here says about you. You can act as nice and polite and helpful as you want. Doesn't make a difference. I know what you really are...Wraith."

Keith could barely breathe. He was sick of this, so damned sick and tired of being treated like an enemy. After everything he'd done for him, these people remained cold and inplacable, unwilling to show him any gratitude. What more did they want for him? Would anything he did be enough for Ronon's blazing eyes?

"Yes, I'm aware you do," he said coldly. "I am Wraith. Unfortunately, that is a fact I cannot change. Now, if you will please move. I have places to go - umph!"

Before Sheppard and the marines could stop him, Ronon's muscular arms shot out and closed around Keith's neck - and he slammed the Wraith hard into the wall. Keith gagged as pain danced up his spine; his hands automatically seized Ronon's arm, trying to yank it off. This incited Ronon more, and he tightened his grip to the point where Keith couldn't draw breath - his windpipe had shrunk to the size of a straw. He thrashed blindly, but he wasn't even strong enough to handle Later. How could he hope to defeat this seething mass of muscle and hatred?

"Ronon! That's enough!" Oh Sheppard, Colonel Sheppard, his voice reached Keith's ears like a balm. He and two marines grabbed Ronon, and it took all of their efforts to drag the big man backwards. Roaring, Ronon released his grip on Keith. The Wraith slid to the floor, his coat billowing around him and his heart stuck in his throat.

"That's it - damn it - drop it, Ronon - back off - !" Sheppard and the marines fought Ronon like he was a bucking horse; Sheppard had his arms around Ronon's chest while the marines clung to his arms and legs. The ones who weren't holding Ronon had aimed their guns at him. Weir stood in front of him, berating him.

"Ronon - that's enough! Believe me, I understand what you are feeling but that is no excuse to just assualt - " she shouted over Ronon's roars of rage and Sheppard's swearing.

"Damn it..." growled Ronon. He had stopped struggling against Sheppard and the marines; instead he chose to direct all his anger at Keith like a white-hot knife. "Listen, you. You do anything to Sheppard, I'll make sure you won't live to regret it. Got it?"

Keith, despite the uncontrollable shaking that had arrested his thin frame, managed a humorless smirk. "Oh, I believe they - " he indicated the marines, " - will have already 'taken care' of it by the time you get to me. And I will not harm John. You have my word."

"Yeah, the word of a Wraith," snarled Ronon. "Don't make me laugh. Any promise you make is worth squat."

"My word is the only thing I can guarantee," Keith said, pulling himself to his feet. "If you can't accept that, that is fine by me. I do not need your approval."

"And I don't need yours, Wraith." Ronon glared at him one last time before turning around and stalking off. The air where he'd been standing seemed a few degrees hotter than the rest of the hall. Sheppard and Weir watched Ronon go, their expressions helpless, before Sheppard turned back to Keith.

"Hey, you okay?" he said. Without waiting for an answer, he went on. "Uh...sorry about that. But Ronon really hates the Wraith. His entire world was culled; he's the only survivor. And on top of that the Wraith made him a Runner."

"I see." Keith exhaled. He'd never encountered Runners before and now he never wanted to, if they were all like Ronon. "But I was not the one who culled his world and I was not the one who made him a Runner. There's no need for him to hate me."

"He hates all Wraith," Sheppard said. "He won't stop until every last Wraith in the Galaxy is dead."

Keith shook his head and snorted before turning away from Sheppard. He didn't know why, but Sheppard's attempts to justify what Ronon had done aggravated him. Well, he did know why. His hand flew to his aching throat and massaged. True, he'd been manhandled before - mostly by Later - but he'd always known that he had done something specific that had gotten Later angry. But this time, he'd done nothing except for exist. And that was enough to get Ronon to attack him as viciously as Later would have. It was a new experience and Keith already decided he didn't like it.

"Hey, get a move on," grumbled the marine behind Keith, prodding the Wraith with his P90. Keith hurled the marine an ugly glare before striding down the hall after Sheppard and Weir again. Somehow, the novelty of getting new quarters had already faded.

Keith's emo hissy fit about Ronon stays, because you all like him that way too.

And yes, there will be a new chapter! Chapter twelve is solidly titled "Transaction" and is about halfway written. Look forward to it! In the meantime, review.