Fate's Fickle Humor

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! You guys have really been making my day. And for those who noted that I tend to pick on Minnesota and Minnesotans, well... That's because I am one. (By the way, the high temperature tomorrow is 2 below zero Fahrenheit!)

Chapter 12: Desperate Measures

Vertigo threatened to topple John to the floor once more, but he fought it off with a grim determination, eyes never wavering from his target. His side throbbed, warm blood trickling down his skin telling the young colonel in no uncertain terms how lucky he was the Genii was a poor shot. Not expecting to go into combat on this one, he'd given in to Carson's demands that he leave his vest off so the doctor could monitor him easier. As military, he should have known better, just as he should have anticipated Elizabeth pulling something like this. Except this wasn't his Elizabeth. So now they were stuck in a stand-off, an eerie repeat of history, Kolya and John each waiting, daring the other to be the first to blink.

"Kolya! Last time we played this game, it didn't turn out too well for you!"

The cold warning produced confusion in his enemy, just as John had hoped, beginning to divide the Genii commander's attention ever so slightly as he attempted to puzzle out John's taunts.

"You have me at a disadvantage. I don't recall us meeting before."

A thin, humorless smile crossed John's lips.

"I know. Same place, different time and person. This time my bullet won't be going through your shoulder, either."

Jonas Quinn, being held tight against the Genii, went even whiter at that, eyes wide in barely controlled panic. John just hoped the young linguist could hold it together just a little longer, just enough to- There it was. The faint flicker of doubt and alarm in his opponent's eyes, a momentary distraction from his captive, the gun wavering from its tight press against Jonas' head. The barest twitch of the Atlantis military commander's finger sent a bullet flying out of the P-90...

And Kolya, commander of the Genii, crumpled to the ground, a small red entry wound in the middle of his forehead between two sightless eyes. A classic 'third eye.'

Jonas, shaking and swallowing convulsively, but very much alive, shot John a look of wide-eyed gratitude even as he stumbled a few feet into the shadows to vomit. Slowly, the other members of their little group emerged from hiding places around the large room, each one nodding to indicate all the Genii in their areas were dealt with. No surprise there, he'd known that must be the case the moment the shooting stopped.

"Colonel? Let me see that side, son."

Carson Beckett was beside him, eyes shimmering with tears as he led John past the body of Elizabeth Weir, gently pushing him down to sit on the steps. Not that the Atlantis CO was inclined to argue since the adrenaline that had kept him upright was fast disappearing. Not far away, he could see Carter and Dr. Jackson supporting the still heaving Jonas Quinn.

"He's okay, just not used to finding himself in quite that much trouble." Colonel O'Neill sat down on the steps by John as he spoke. "I've got McKay finding whatever part it was he needed. The move you made was pretty gutsy, not to mention suicidal is we hadn't taken out the other 'Gennys'."

"Genii." John corrected absently, leaning his head against the wall, grateful to feel the cool on his warm, sweaty skin. "I knew you guys would deal with them. If Kolya had killed Jonas..."

That sobered Jack and he leaned over to look around Sheppard at his team mate.

"Yeah, that might have been a problem. As soon as McKay and Carter are through, we should be ready to go. I'm sorry about Weir, kid."

"Well, the colonel won't be, not until I put some stitches in this mess on his side."

Carson's grief-roughened brogue was soft, concerned. At O'Neill's nod and John's rolled eyes, he grabbed his medical kit, fishing around for what he'd need. Cam and Ronon appeared from around the corner, looking satisfied until they saw the doctor's preparations.

"Uh oh. What'd you do now, Shep?"

John grimaced at Cam's use of the old nickname.

"I got grazed in the side, I'm fine. And don't call me that."

"You're not fine, son, you're bleeding, ill, and this bloody place is just making it worse. Now lie down so I can look at that properly. If I thought I'd have the slightest chance o' winning the argument, I'd insist you came back to my hospital tent on Athos."

John instantly shook his head.

"No time, Carson. The sooner we fix this mess, the happier I'll be."

He didn't, however, object when Cam and Carson helped him up and eased him to the floor, which had been covered with a blanket, his head pillowed once again on McKay's rather lumpy backpack. The power bar that had poked him in the back yesterday seemed to be gone, at least. A needle prick on the arm, and John found himself unable to resist the urge to sleep any longer.

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As soon as they cleared the gate on the Ancient outpost planet, John slumped down against a tree, squeezing his eyes shut against the agony rippling through him. At least he was no longer blacking out due to some of Carson's lighter painkillers, though that was a small blessing. Ronon and Teal'c, who had come through ahead of him, were no doubt already scouting the vicinity, but so far, so good. Then, Wraith rarely stuck around a planet when they knew there was no longer food available, so they must have been attracted in the first place by the activating of the Ancient technology. Soon, he heard that odd bloop-bloop of someone else coming through the event horizon and called out without looking, already knowing who it would be.

"Teyla?"

A person moved to stand over him, blocking the light breeze.

"I do not sense any Wraith, colonel. How are you feeling?"

"I'm good."

He smiled up at her, noting her frown of disbelief, and masked the pain as he carefully stood up to face a scowling Carson walking toward him from the Gate. Seemed time and changed history couldn't change the man's hatred of Gate travel.

"This is as far as you go, doc. McKay and Carter both think everything outside the complex will be changed back to the original time line if we're successful, but anyone in the ruins will be shielded. We don't want you caught with us and screw it up all over again."

Carson's face turned stony, telling John he was in for another battle of wills with the stubborn Scot, but he planned on winning this one.

"You're hurt, son. I need ta keep an eye on you."

"We'll keep an eye on him, doc."

The Atlantis colonel almost laughed as the physician jumped, swearing softly in Gaelic as the Satedan spoke from just behind him. The man could be damn stealthy when he wanted to be, but then, he'd had seven years of practice when his very life depended on it. Need was a fine teacher. Teyla shot her newest team mate a reproving look and laid a reassuring hand on the Scot's arm.

"Ronon is correct, we will watch John. We will not be far should we need you, Dr. Beckett."

The doctor considered for a long moment as John held his breath, not sure how the other man would take it if he were forced to pull rank. Finally, Carson nodded, nailing his patient with a stern glare.

"Aye, see that you do, love. And you, colonel, take it slow and easy. I know your type!"

"Good enough." A voice from near the wormhole had them all turning to see SG-1's original leader listening to a report from his Jaffa team mate. Seeing their attention on him, the man grinned wickedly as he called out to them. "We should get moving before your dinner guests decide to crash the party again."

Carson's brows knit in puzzlement and he stared at the older colonel as if questioning the man's sanity, while John laughed softly and Teyla's mouth quirked up in a half smile. Ronon just scowled.

"Dinner guests? What bloody dinner guests?"

Behind O'Neill, McKay snorted in disgust, he, Cam, and Carter having come through the Gate just in time to hear the crack.

"Ha Ha. He means the Wraith, Carson. Are we going to stand around making bad jokes or are we going to fix this mess? I, for one, want my lab back, fumble-fingered assistants and all!"

Jack O'Neill looked pointedly at the Gate, which had the major smiling ruefully.

"Jonas and Daniel should be through in a minute, sir. Daniel had a... slight mishap."

Even as she spoke, the other two appeared, but John lost the thread of the conversation as the Gate disengaged, sending him back to his knees from the wave of dizziness it provoked. His head was pounding once again, an ugly counterpart to the throbbing of the bullet wound in his side, but he wasn't about to admit that to any of them. Somehow, he was certain that he would be needed soon, and couldn't do what was required if they pumped him full of more drugs. Cam appeared next to him, carefully helping him back to his feet, then pulling one of John's arms over his shoulder without asking. With a resigned grumble, Rodney took up the other side. As they slowly began walking, the colonel was alarmed to see Jonas offering similar help to a badly limping Daniel just ahead of them.

"What happened-"

His muttered question was cut off by Cam's reassuring laugh.

"Jackson's got two left feet is all. He tripped coming down the stairs in the Gate room and twisted that ankle again. Once we get to the room, I'll wrap it while Carter and McKay play with their Ancient toys."

The rest of the short walk passed in silence as John concentrated on repressing the pain shooting through him with every step.

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"McKay! Carter! Any time now! Preferably before our long-haired friends decide to drop in again!"

O'Neill's impatient shouting brought John awake from a nap he'd never intended to take. Once they had reached the room with the pedestal, the two astrophysicists had become immersed in Ancient machinery, softly arguing back and forth about every move they made. Once, it had resulted in Carter accidentally hitting the wrong crystal when McKay jostled her in one of his arm-swinging rants. The subsequent yelp, however, also came from Rodney as the crystals connecting had created a minor feedback loop, giving the Canadian a minor jolt. Somewhere in all the wrangling, John had dropped off despite the steady pulse of the Ancient machinery keeping him in constant discomfort. If his condition really was caused by something like a burn to the part of the brain that controlled Ancient tech, as Carson suspected, than John had more then a debriefing Elizabeth would never believe to look forward to. Right now, though...

"What's the problem, Rodney?"

At his quiet question, the man it was addressed to popped his head around the pedestal with a scowl.

"I don't think my ATA gene is powerful enough to fully activate it. Every time I try, things flicker, but won't stabilize enough for me to tell it to reverse the transportation process. O'Neill can't because he has to be in the room where SG-1 first appeared or this might not work, or... You'll have to do it."

Well, that explained the scowl and the almost frightened look in his friend's eyes. If just being around the technology hurt that much, then...

"That could kill him, McKay!"

Cam's indignant shout made John start, though he caught Rodney's roll of the eyes in response.

"I am painfully aware of that, Colonel Mitchell, thank you. Why else do you think Sam and I would be wasting all this time trying to get around it? Because we thought it would be fun?!"

"That's enough, McKay. If I need to do this, then let's get going, because I can pretty much guarantee we're only going to get one shot at it."

John climbed wearily to his feet as he spoke, not that surprised with the outcome. This wouldn't be the first time that his gene had provided him with an answer to problems with Ancient technology when he wasn't even truly conscious of it.

"Are you sure? There must be another way."

O'Neill had a hand on his arm, steadying the younger colonel as he swayed, face already white.

"I'm pretty sure there isn't, sir. I'll be fine."

The other man gave him a skeptical 'you're lying through your teeth' look, but nodded anyway.

"Okay, kids, let's get to that other room so we can go home. I'm getting a little tired of this side of the rainbow. Colonels, its been a pleasure. Teyla, Ronon. Danny, you'd better have a damn good explanation for that mess on Abydos the next time I see you! McKay... Just try not to electrocute anyone."

With that, the legendary Colonel Jack O'Neill walked away, the other members of his team making fast goodbyes before joining him. John didn't miss the fact that all of them chided Daniel on his disappearing, reappearing acts, telling him they'd want details when they saw him again. The archaeologist, John noted, didn't tell them he'd have no memory when he returned to SG-1.

Carefully, slowly, he walked to the pedestal, which began to glow brighter even as he approached. To tell the truth, he was scared to death at the moment, but like taking the Jumper with the nuke to the Hive ship, he didn't see any other choice. SG-1 had to return to their own time, or they would lose Earth, Atlantis, and Elizabeth. That, to John, was completely unacceptable.

A beep over the com.

"We're set, whenever you're ready, colonel."

With a deep breath, John reached out and grabbed the glowing machinery with both hands, his awareness of his surroundings instantly fading, pain and the hum of the Ancient tech warring for his consciousness.

"No! Send them back to where and when they belong!"

His mutter coincided with forceful mental commands, fighting, pushing to make the thing do as he wished. Agony and an explosion of light rippled through him, his body falling into blackness.

Tbc...