Ophidia
A Stargate Atlantis Fanfic
Tuesday, 14 August 2007
A/N: I hear a lot of you are concerned about Ronon's whereabouts.
I say: lemme alone! ;D
I try to keep my chapters within a certain range of length. Sometimes they end up cut short (or, most of the time, I have to write more because I don't have enough). Especially as we're in a stage of the story focusing on a whole bunch of characters in different places, that can create issues where some characters aren't covered in a particular chapter. Don't worry; we'll draw everything back together soon (…ish).
Chapter 11: Confrontation
Sweet, sweet, blessed air! But that wasn't what really got him. Kaczynski felt like crying out in relief as he saw the stairwell dimly illuminated in weak light, ebbing in through a window somewhere up above him.
"W-we did it sir," he said. For a long while, he hadn't thought he would ever reach the surface, but here he was, and a chance to stop, to rest, was just a few feet away. "Colonel?" he asked, turning to the strangely silent man.
Who wasn't there. "Colonel?" he repeated, anxiety rising, feebly fumbling around in the water. "Shit! Colonel Sheppard!"
Kaczynski started up a litany of cussing in his mind, still turning and hoping he had just missed Sheppard. But no, the man wasn't there. Of course he wasn't.
Trying to inhale as much as he could in his constricted lungs, Kaczynski floundered a second longer, before sinking back into the water.
Everything seemed to be a blur, and he couldn't tell if it was the light, or maybe his eyes just weren't working right. His eyelids felt heavy as he blinked once, focusing on what he thought was the door they had come through. It took a few seconds to get over there— there was definitely movement, which had to be the colonel.
Kaczynski tried to grab the man's vest, but couldn't make his hand work. Instead, he hooked his arm awkwardly around Sheppard's, and kicked against the wall— or tried. It moved them a couple of inches, but it seemed to be enough to get the idea into Sheppard's head— he slowly twisted, pulling himself the rest of the way through the door, while Kaczynski tried to get them moving towards the surface.
The seconds seemed to be as listless as the two soldiers, drifting by slowly, until, after Kaczynski was sure he was just going to pass out underwater—
Both men spat out water that they had just been unable to keep from pulling into their mouths— looking at each other, they were sorry sights indeed. Pale, lips turning blue, barely even shaking now— it took every ounce of effort they could muster to get to the stairwell that rose out of the water, like some kind of godsend from on high, without drifting right back to the floor.
At long, long last, they were there, dragging themselves up onto the staircase. Now drawing ragged breaths, Kaczynski looked over at Sheppard again, who had paused to rest, halfway in the water. For his part, Kaczynski had collapsed a few steps out of it— didn't really matter to him if he made it all the way out, he was soaked anyhow. But he was out of the water. He was out. For some strange reason, the marine felt laughter bubbling up in him, though all it came out as was breathy rasping. His lopsided grin was infectious though— Sheppard caught sight of the goofy look on his subordinate's face and couldn't help but give a small smile of his own. Looking back down at the water, though, it soon began to fade.
"Don't celebrate… just yet," he whispered, starting to fight to pull himself up onto the next step.
Kaczynski gave his commanding officer a puzzled look. "S…sir?"
Sheppard gestured towards the body of water beneath them with a jerk of his head. "Water's still rising."
Damn water… damn it all! Ronon worked his way through the ocean, but whatever pump in this area was still working was drawing the water back down towards it.
Drawing him back down towards where he started.
At first, it had seemed the quickest solution to get the drop on whoever was sitting up on that balcony was to simply swim out into the ocean, past the current, then come up behind the balcony where the water was still flowing over it. It would take him right where he needed to go, and they'd never suspect an attack from the water.
Except getting there was proving to be problematic.
Pausing to brace himself against an outer wall of Atlantis, Ronon stretched, trying to not only loosen his muscles, but also get a better vantage on their enemy. He could almost see them now… a few more feet and maybe he could get a clear view.
Ronon frowned, watching the figure in the distance. They were moving… reacting… looking at… shit, Teyla! he thought, frustrated— they had agreed to wait! What would have possessed her to move before he got there?
Sliding awkwardly along the wall, trying to keep out of the current's control, Ronon unconsciously curled his hands into fists as he grew closer… He recognized that person. McKay. It was goddamned McKay. An incredible amount of anger surged through him then— that the scientist would betray Atlantis and his teammates like this… even as he now worked back into open water, trying to get past the worst of the current and work around towards the balcony, he could feel the ire in him cool, as he realized he hadn't yet seen Teyla… did it mean the other man hadn't found her… or…
As if in answer, the sound of a gun being fired— a real, military gun, not a Wraith stunner— rolled back over him. "No!" he couldn't help but cry.
The Satedan's hand tightened around his borrowed weapon until his knuckles were stark white. With teeth clenched as well, Ronon put his all into making the distance as quickly as he could… and he would snap McKay's frail little neck if he had hurt their friend…
After a moment, McKay shook his head. "You had to go and be clever. You should know better, Teyla," he admonished, an extra dangerous note in his condescending words. "You should just kick ass and look sexy. Don't try and be smart. It doesn't suit you."
The gall rose in Teyla, moderated only by the thought that this couldn't be Rodney McKay. All the same, she lurched to one side, trying to regain her feet. A second report sounded and the water to her left exploded. Flinching again, Teyla froze, before glaring back at McKay who let out a small laugh, gun still trained on her. "Rodney," she said, voice harsh and commanding. "Stop what you are doing."
"Or what?" he challenged. "In case you haven't noticed, I do have a gun in this hand, and, well," he added, sounding as though he were speaking to a child, "I could try and explain the physics to you, but I doubt you'd follow. Suffice to say," McKay said, looking and sounding as smug as ever, "the likelihood of you getting a chance to stop me before I shoot you are astronomical." The calm surety of the words chilled Teyla to the bone.
Slowly, carefully, she extended her arms to either side, careful to keep the stunner pointed skywards. Teyla then began to rise.
McKay stiffened, finger tightening on the trigger, giving a sound of warning. The Athosian froze once more, dropping back to one knee. "Don't," he said, voice low and expressions twisted into what was almost a sneer. "You are not in control here. The only reason you're still alive is because I want to know where your backup is."
He would, she realized. He would shoot her… kill her… if he saw reason to. "Backup?" she asked, feigning ignorance.
McKay tilted his head, eyes narrowing in anger. "What did I tell you about getting smart?" He stalked forward, and Teyla stiffened up, before feeling the Wraith stunner being jerked from her hand. Then McKay was there again, only a few feet away, Beretta pointing at her unerringly. Ready to shoot her, point blank. "Where's Ronon?" he asked, voice growing cool once more.
It took a measure of self control not to gape; how did he know? she asked herself. Had he seen them coming up the pier together? Was he even now laying a trap for Ronon? …But this was McKay! Rodney, her friend— and now here he was, threatening her, hunting their teammate… The idea that something in him had changed the man to this extreme frightened her, far more than the actual threats he delivered. Despite her fears, Teyla managed to remain calm, appearing even a little puzzled. "He is on another pier, searching for the source of the damage," she lied.
McKay shook his head again, though his eyes stayed locked on hers. "The problem with trying to trick me," he said, taking another step towards her— Teyla felt her stomach flip— "is that I know you. Like I know you'd never come out here alone."
Teyla took a deep breath, as though trying to resign herself to something, and McKay couldn't hide the wicked delight in his eyes. The Athosian brought her eyes up— locked onto his. For a moment, she thought she caught the dawning comprehension in them.
But by then, she was already in motion. Teyla flung herself to the side, letting one leg fly out the other way, counterbalanced and spinning with an exactness and power— McKay had no hope to move out of the way before Teyla's foot caught him in the stomach; letting out a sound of pain, he stumbled back, and she completed the spin, using her hands and momentum to push herself up. When McKay brought his head up, expression fierce, she was already there, and snapped a blow into his face that sent him tumbling backwards.
As McKay collapsed, Teyla hesitated. She could see dark blood running from the scientist's nose… despite his earlier actions, she gained no satisfaction from injuring him. Even as he began to stir again, the Athosian moved towards the man. There was nothing now he could do to her.
With a somewhat dismal expression, she regarded him, moving towards his side, where McKay still gripped the stunner he had taken from her. Teyla could see McKay lift his head, lethargically.
With an unexpected and unnatural speed and precision, he brought he Wraith stunner to bear— Teyla didn't have time to register it before its high pitched whine filled her ears, and the muscles in her body locked up, wracked with pain. Very suddenly, she was besieged by the feeling of cold— it was with a spike of fear that Teyla realized she had collapsed into the water, and couldn't breathe. Her vision faded into and out of darkness, and she struggled to rise, eliciting only small twitches in her arms and legs.
The seconds crept by, agonizingly slow, as Teyla fought for control of her body, trying to force herself not to inhale on reflex. All she could see was the murky, shifting twilight through the flowing water; together with the lack of breath, disorienting and threatening to steal consciousness from the helpless woman. Finally, she was able to slide one arm under her torso, and poured all her strength into pushing herself up. She rose haltingly, shaking, but the moment her face passed the surface, Teyla gasped for air— her lungs did not want to work properly, taking only a minute amount before her arm gave out and she was under again, fighting to resurface. Before she slipped though, she glimpsed McKay, standing a few feet away, watching calmly, as if they had not fought just seconds before.
As Teyla rose a second time, her eyes found McKay's once more; he was smirking.
"Nice job," he remarked, looking somewhat impressed. "For a second there I thought you weren't going to make it."
It was almost impossible to comprehend. McKay had not only shot her, but had watched her nearly drown… he had deliberately left her there… unconcerned, whether she died or not. As Teyla refocused on him, there was a new sense of revulsion in her expression… and even hatred.
McKay kneeled down next to her— the Athosian woman longed to reach out and strike the man, but she could barely keep her head above the water, much less make a move to attack him. He seemed aware of this fact, putting his face mere inches from hers. "Where's Ronon?" When she didn't answer, he lashed out with one hand, seizing her shoulder and pushing her down towards the water.
It was with an impossible amount of strength that McKay held her there, half in and half out of the ocean current. Even weakened as she was, Teyla realized that this couldn't be McKay— there was no way the scientist could have so much power to his under-trained form, to speak nothing of the callousness with which he was using it. Resisting as much as she could, Teyla soon found she had to devote as much strength just to keep her face twisted up out of the water.
"You came here with someone," he stated calmly, ignoring the grunts and cries of strain from the woman beneath him. "Now, I know John is in the lower levels of the City with Carson and Elizabeth— underwater, by now," he said, eliciting a gasp from Teyla that had her spluttering— even that split-second spent unawares had been enough to slip back under the surface halfway. "So it's not him. Next best thing is Ronon, right?" McKay asked, almost conversationally. Teyla glared upwards, eyes almost frantic, and felt a surge of anger at his calm contentedness.
Gritting her teeth, Teyla gathered her arm under her, before snapping her elbow up into McKay's face. The scientist staggered back, and Teyla lurched upwards, spitting out a mouthful of water. Not sparing a moment, she turned to watch McKay, sliding backwards— none too soon, as he recovered quickly.
Teyla already had her feet under her, though, and was lunging for him. McKay tried to bring the M9 up, but she seized his wrist, trying to lock it back and prevent him from aiming the gun towards her. Then she kneed him as hard as she possibly could in the groin.
It seemed to have worked for a moment. He sagged forward, seemingly in excruciating pain, and Teyla felt she could almost get the gun from his grasp. Then, however, McKay tore his whole arm to the side, wrenching his hand from Teyla's grip and pistol-whipping her in the process.
She stumbled backwards, a warm wetness now spreading across her cheek, before McKay shoved her to the deck. Then he was on top of her, trying yet again to push her down under the surface— but this time, he didn't have such good leverage, and though it was difficult, she managed to put up enough of a struggle to keep from going under. "You know," McKay grated, flinching backwards as Teyla left several painful scratches across one side of his face, "you're tough," he finished, punctuating his sentence with a blow to the side of Teyla's face. Though Teyla was stunned for only a second, it was enough time for McKay to take control of the fight, and he grabbed both of her wrists, grip so tight as to be painful.
"You could be useful," he told her, a dark look in his eyes.
