Thanks for the reviews for the previous chapter. I do normally reply to reviews, but haven't been able to this time. I'm still away from home, and only have limited Internet time. I've got time either to post a new chapter, or to reply to reviews for the old one. I wonder which one you'd all prefer... ;-)

Chapter twelve: Shadows

Aiden thought he knew where he was going. Most things were clear, but every now and then there were… shadows.

He had done what he had to do with respect to Major Sheppard. He had talked to him and meant it all, even as another, higher part of his mind had known that he was just biding his time. He was waiting until Sheppard turned his back. The rest was just words. It meant nothing. It meant nothing. It meant nothing.

And then the blow; the moment of truth; the moment that should have led to Sheppard's awakening. It had been his decision to target Sheppard first. He wanted Sheppard to be part of the family, working on the same side as Aiden, not against him. "I'm sorry, sir," he had said, because of the violence he had been forced to use, but inside he had been gleeful. Soon Sheppard would understand everything, and forgive.

The first few minutes were difficult. Aiden remembered Beckett showing him the light, then remembered nothing for several minutes, until he had opened his eyes onto a changed world. Others, he knew, reacted with wild emotions and violent panic. He had stayed within earshot of Sheppard, then, waiting for his former commander to stand up again, with fresh understanding in his eyes. Aiden could then be the one to guide him, to help him, to tell him the plan.

But Sheppard had acted very differently from any of the others Aiden had seen responding to Beckett's gentle enlightenment in the infirmary. Aiden remembered a quiet drifting, a few moments of wild confusion, and then all thoughts slotting into place in a way that was almost miraculous. Sheppard had just seemed confused and distressed. Aiden had watched him, horrified. His hands had fought the urge to kill him there and then.

That had been the first shadow.

Sheppard was long gone now; Aiden knew, of course, that he was now confined. He knew, too, that Sheppard would remain locked up until things had progressed so far that a scapegoat was no longer needed, and then he would be killed. They knew that Sheppard was a formidable foe; Aiden himself had told them that.

If only you hadn't resisted it, Aiden thought. The sorrow was the second shadow.

He had wandered to the infirmary not long before. Ross had been desperate to get out of bed and assist in the struggle, but Ford had urged him to stay put. No matter what cause they now served, his team was still his team, and their safety was important.

You kept your head, and put the safety of your men first. Sheppard had said that, as Ford had stood there in the darkness, planning to unmake and remake his life. And so he did. So he had done.

But he would kill them in a heartbeat if he had to.

Another shadow.

He was stationed in a corridor near the physics labs, watching through the night. No-one had passed for hours. In his head, of course, he was no longer alone, and never would be, but that was only the faintest sense of connection. Their numbers were growing by the hour, but it was not the same as having people around you. His higher level thoughts continued in their new and marvellous fashion, but beneath them still ran the lower level - the thoughts of a man called Aiden Ford. That part of him worried about his men, and hoped one day to prove himself in the eyes of his commanders. That part of him was never entirely happy when alone.

Footsteps caused him to snap his head up, instantly ready. "Doctor McKay?"

"Ford." For an instant, McKay seemed relieved to see him, but then he froze, his face a picture of trepidation. "Ford," he said in a different voice. "What are you doing here?"

The lower level thoughts vanished. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Just going for a walk," McKay said. "A midnight walk. Though it must be halfway to morning now. Can the word midnight be properly applied, I wonder?" His hand was on his chest, tapping it incessantly. "Couldn't sleep. I had some work to do in the labs."

Aiden moved closer to him. "Don't!" McKay squawked. He turned away, then clenched his fists at his side, and turned back again. "Zelenka attacked me. Injected something. I don't feel well. I felt the urge… I don't know where I'm going. The infirmary?"

The higher level could sense something coming off McKay. It was a sense, almost a smell, of family. Zelenka attacked me. Ford stepped back, satisfied. "I don't think you need Doctor Beckett, McKay. Everything will seem perfectly clear in a moment."

"Will it?" McKay raked his hand through his hair. "That's good."

He hurried on, and Ford watched him. Both levels of his mind were smiling.

Sheppard started awake with a gasp. A large man had been reaching towards his shoulder, but he withdrew his hand when he saw that Sheppard was awake. Dex, Sheppard thought. So he wasn't a dream. That meant that none of it was a dream. That meant…

"Someone's coming." Dex jerked his chin towards the door.

There was no-one visible in the room outside the cell. Sheppard strained to listen, but could hear nothing. "Impressive hearing," he whispered, but he saw no reason to doubt the man. On the run from the Wraith for eight years. He stood up stiffly and leant against the back wall of the cell, outwardly nonchalant, inwardly ready. Dex apparently felt no such need for nonchalance. Standing in the middle of the cell, he was the very picture of feral menace.

The outer door opened, and a hunched figure came in, head darting from side to side. Sheppard frowned. "Rodney?"

"How do you expect me to trust you?" McKay demanded. He jabbed a finger in Sheppard's direction. "You come waltzing back after two years in the grave. I don't know you any more. It's you against everyone else, and everyone else… I know them. I've lived with them for two years. Bosom friends, and all that. Family, you could say."

Sheppard said nothing. Dex shot him a look, but he pretended not to see it.

McKay started to pace up and down, his right hand high and active. "Everything was fine until you came back. Then the minute you get back, everything goes crazy. Oh yes, I'm on to you, you know. I bet you don't think anyone's noticed how convenient it is to you that Caldwell's dead."

"Dead?" Sheppard echoed sharply.

"As good as dead. You hexed them, didn't you? It's some freaky super power you picked up in Fairyland. No! No! Don't look at me!" He shielded his eyes with his hand, cowering away. "Don't put the evil eye on me." He lowered his hand slowly. "Not that I believe in such mumbo-jumbo, of course, not me. The clear shining light of science and reason: that's always been my first love. A marriage made in heaven, you could say."

Sheppard was aware of Dex smirking beside him. He shot him a sharp look of warning.

"Major Brett was right to lock you up." McKay was still pacing, never looking at Sheppard. "He's a good man, Major Brett. Like that, we are." He crossed his fingers and held them up accusingly. "He chose me for his last mission. Hand-picked me…" He let out a breath, and his shoulders relaxed for a moment. "Like you did." He raked his hand through his tousled hair. "Not that I enjoy getting rained on and shot at. Not that I enjoy the dead bodies and the running for my life and the death-defying leaps through the Gate, oh no, not at all."

Sheppard kept his face carefully expressionless.

"Zelenka attacked me!" McKay jabbed upwards violently with one finger. "He turned on me! It's not just the soldiers. I thought it was just the soldiers – boys will be boys, mindless space marines will be…" The hand subsided and twisted in the air as if to imply endless etceteras. "Ignore it and it'll go away. Not my problem. But Zelenka…! He injected something… It made me feel quite strange."

Sheppard edged forward, holding one hand behind his back in a command to Dex: Don't you dare say it. McKay's skin was pale, but the cheeks were flushed and sweaty. His pupils seemed to be spilling darkness across his face.

"And people are dying!" McKay squawked. "Everyone's gone crazy. Even Zelenka… And Ford! They're not right in the head. They're not who we think they are. Can't trust anyone. Can't trust… Can't… trust…" He stopped on the far side of the room, hand pressed against the wall. "No, it's just me – me alone. If you want a job done well, do it yourself. Can't trust anyone in case… in case they're really the enemy under their skin."

Sheppard stopped at the very limits of the cell. He brought his hand up, but could not touch the bars.

"Where was I?" McKay pushed himself away from the wall, brining up both hands clenched into hopeless-looking fists. "Yes, trust. Like I said, Major, there's no reason at all why I should trust you. No reason why I should trust anyone, but least of all you. I don't even know you any more."

Sheppard smiled. "Are you going to stand there chattering all day, or are you going to get us out of here?"

For the first time since he had entered the room, McKay looked at him, rolling his eyes as if Sheppard was an idiot. "Yes, of course, with my mighty muscles I mugged a guard on the way in and stole his code."

"Genius like you doesn't need a code." Sheppard jabbed his chin at the locking mechanism. "Do the lock-pick thing, McKay."

"Everything's so easy in Sheppard-world, isn't it? Rodney McKay can work miracles. It never crosses your mind that there might be something I can't do. That's what I always hated…" His voice faded. He gave a grudging hmph and moved forward to attack the lock.

Dex was looming at Sheppard's shoulder. "Friend of yours?"

Sheppard was on the point of giving a flippant answer, but something stopped him. It was difficult to say the simple "Yes", but it felt strangely good afterwards.

"I don't know why I'm doing this," McKay said, as he worked intently on the lock. "If the guard finds me, I'll say you forced me."

"Yes, the unarmed, imprisoned man threatened you, Rodney. With what, I wonder? Scary faces?"

"Not that there are any guards." McKay's face was intent. "None at all. See, Major? That's how unimportant you are. They know you don't have any friends here who'll try to rescue you. You're dead." His eyes flickered up, and he seemed to notice Dex for the first time. "And he's a… a… Well, I don't know who he is, but I don't think anyone's going to be rescuing him any time soon. You're just going to languish here, both of you, while all hell breaks loose around you."

"Yes." Sheppard smiled.

"Almost there," McKay said. "Pathetically easy for someone like me. Something should be done about that." He paused, considering. "Though what are the chances of a Wraith being imprisoned in here, with another Wraith loose in the city, possessing my sort of intellect? Very slight, I'd say. Practically non-existent."

Sheppard flexed his hand. "Rodney…"

"Alright, alright," McKay snapped. He prodded the lock a few more times, then stopped again. "Major." It was a stage whisper.

Sheppard leant forward. "What?" he asked in the same tone.

"What shall we do about him?" McKay jerked his chin at Dex in a way that was clearly meant to be subtle. "Can you knock him out?"

"No, Rodney."

"Do something, then." McKay was persisting with his whispering.

"Okay, then." Sheppard turned to Dex. "I'm going to take back the city. You with me?"

Dex grinned. "Sounds good."

"But… But…" McKay shrank back as far as he could.

"Just do it, McKay."

"Yes. Very well. Okay. On your own head be it." McKay prodded the lock at arm's length, then snatched his hand back, bringing both arms up to his chest.

"After you." Sheppard gestured expansively to Dex to go first, then followed him out of the cell into a city full of enemies.

For a while, Rodney had thought he was losing his mind. He felt more normal now, but didn't madmen always think they were sane? He could think of no other explanation for why he had let Major Sheppard out of an Atlantis prison. And as for the barbarian…

"Do I look crazy?" he asked Sheppard, as he struggled to match his pace. "It's just… I wouldn't know, would I? It stands to reason they'd attack my mind, after all. It's a formidable weapon."

"No more crazy than normal," Sheppard whispered, then held up his hand in a sharp gesture that commanded silence.

Rodney took his place behind him, his shoulders hunched down. Sheppard was peering around a corner. "Guards," Sheppard whispered. "Are there normally so many guards stationed inside Atlantis?"

Rodney shook his head, drawing in his lower lip anxiously. What on earth had he been thinking? Sheppard had been locked up by the acting military commander of Atlantis. By releasing him, McKay had turned himself into an enemy. He was a traitor. He would be court-martialled… "Can you court-martial a civilian?"

Sheppard's palm came up behind him, ordering him to stop talking. "Don't kill unless there's no choice."

Kill, Rodney echoed. He looked at his empty hands. They were trembling slightly.

"No." Sheppard held up his hand again, and Rodney realised that he was speaking to the barbarian, not to him. "Don't kill even if there's no choice. These are my men; they're just not themselves. You okay with that? If not, then…" He flapped his hand, indicating away.

Rodney swallowed. Yes, go, he thought. This wasn't how it was meant to be. But then he frowned, for he had no idea how it was meant to be. He had never had a plan. He had found himself at Sheppard's cell door, and then he had been opening it, even though he was sure he had just talked himself into the opposite.

"I can live with that," the barbarian said. Rodney thought he said it reluctantly. Those big hands were probably desperate to do some rending of flesh and those teeth to tear at human flesh.

Rodney never saw the signal that passed between the two of them, but suddenly Sheppard and the barbarian were gone, racing around the corner in perfect unison. Rodney pressed the back of his head against the wall, and closed his eyes. He heard the sound of scuffling, and heavy blows landing on places that had to hurt. There was clattering and a muffled gasp. Was Sheppard getting hurt? Perhaps the barbarian had killed them all. Well, at least Rodney could say I told you so over Sheppard's corpse.

Corpse…

He peeped around the corner just in time to see Sheppard coolly stripping a fallen soldier of his weapons. The barbarian was doing the same to the other one. "You know how to use one of those?" Sheppard asked.

The barbarian gave a brusque nod. "Saw one used."

Sheppard's good hand moved to the soldier's vest. "Help me with this?"

Swallowing hard, Rodney looked away. Not dead, he reminded himself, but they looked dead, and Sheppard and the barbarian were like vultures, calmly stripping their bodies of anything valuable. He's a stranger, he reminded himself. Even before… before Sheppard had died, he had been a stranger. Just as Rodney had begun to understand him, he had suddenly become someone else entirely. The laidback flyboy had become a cold-eyed warrior, systematically wiping out the Genii one by one.

"McKay." He jumped when he heard Sheppard call his name. "Put this on." Sheppard was holding out the vest. Rodney shuffled forward and snatched at it, and fumbled his way into it. The shape and weight of it felt intimately familiar, although it was nearly two years since he had last worn one. A vulture? he thought. Well… He patted the sides of the vest. He had turned himself into a traitor. The whole of Atlantis' military was about the focus all their resources on bringing him down. Only a fool would turn down the offer of protection.

Sheppard put on the second vest. "Best clear out," he said.

"Yes, but where?" Rodney asked. If he went back to his quarters now and pretended to be asleep, perhaps they'd assume that somebody else had let Sheppard out. He could wash his hands of it. Who? I haven't the faintest idea who you're talking about.

"Rodney…"

"Don't snap at me," Rodney panted. "You're going too fast."

Maybe he should arrest Sheppard himself and take him somewhere secure. Maybe he should tell Elizabeth. "Do you think they'll try me for treason?" he asked. "They wouldn't, would they? I'm far too important to national security."

"They'd just shoot you," Sheppard said, without turning round.

See, Rodney thought. That's what I always hated about you. That's what I hate about you. That's what I… "Wait for me!" he gasped, but Sheppard was already slowing, signalling to the barbarian to slacken his pace.

"You okay, Rodney?"

"No, I am not okay," Rodney protested. "Zelenka attacked me, and now I seem to have gone crazy." He gasped, suddenly remembering something. "You were acting weird, too. You could barely keep on your feet. Are you okay, Major?

Sheppard gave a quick grin. "Never thought you'd ask." The grin faded; turned into a shrug. "Been better, but I got some sleep. It helped."

The barbarian held up a hand. "Someone's coming."

"Stay behind me," Sheppard commanded Rodney.

The barbarian tilted his head to one side. "Only one. We can take him, Sheppard."

Sheppard edged forward. "Wait."

"Wait?" Rodney echoed. "Wait?

The gun rounded the corner first, held in a dark hand. Slow footsteps followed, and then there was Ford, his gun trained on Sheppard's head.

"You attacked me, lieutenant," Sheppard said coldly. As he spoke, he subtly shifted position, until his body blocked Ford from Rodney's view.

"You should be thanking me," Ford said. "Something went wrong. Why didn't it work? And Doctor McKay… He tricked me. That means you've both got to die."

"Put down the gun, Ford."

Shoot him! Rodney thought. Surely Sheppard knew places where you could shoot someone to disarm them without killing them. It was the sort of thing he would know. Or get He-Man to knock him out. He swallowed hard. Don't just talk to him!

"I can't." Ford's voice was ridiculously normal. "You're not one of us."

"Us?" Sheppard edged forward a step. Rodney felt suddenly cold and exposed, and edged forward with him. This took him inside the shadow of the barbarian's coat, with the big man a wall at his side. "How many of you are there?"

"More by the minute. Almost all the military is ours."

Oh yes, Rodney thought. Question the enemy and get him to reveal his whole plan. Haven't you seen the movies, Sheppard? But perhaps he had. It always worked in the movies. Rodney fought the insane urge to laugh.

Sheppard edged forward again. "Who are you?"

Ford smiled. "Lieutenant Aiden Ford, sir, just as I always was. It's just that I've woken up and am seeing things clearly."

Another movement. "What…?"

"Don't move any closer!" Ford shouted. "Stay where you are."

Sheppard raised his hands a few inches from his sides, as if to show that he was no threat. "Why are you doing this, Ford?" His voice was calm, but there was a hard thread of authority in it.

"Because it is right."

"It isn't right," Sheppard said. Oh God! Rodney thought. He's going to get himself killed! The terror of that thought was enough to make him tremble, but the ridiculous laughter still wanted to pour out. "Remember who you are." Sheppard's voice cut through Rodney's fears, and froze him. "Remember who I am."

Rodney saw the shadow of the gun in Ford's hand, dark and steady on the floor. Sheppard's body was blocking his view of the weapon itself. "You can't command me any more," Ford said.

"No." Sheppard shook his head. "But I'm talking about you - a good officer who just yesterday kept his head under fire and put his team first. Why should you, Aiden Ford, want to damage Atlantis? Fight it, Ford."

Fight what? But Rodney's hand rose unbidden to his brow, and he thought he knew.

Sheppard took another step forward. "It doesn't matter what you've done. There's still time to change. Join us, Ford…"

"No!"

The shadow of the gun jerked sharply. The barbarian's body smashed into Rodney's, hurling him to one side, and Sheppard was rolling to the side, coming up with his gun ready. Rodney's ears were ringing from the sound of the gunshot. Am I hit? he thought. Am I hit? He felt no pain. He tried to move, but the barbarian pressed his hand into his back, holding him down, and his long coat brushed against Rodney's face. He couldn't see what was happening. He couldn't see what was happening!

"I don't want to shoot you," Sheppard said, in a voice that chilled Rodney with both threat and memory, "but I won't let you do this. Do it, Dex."

Light flooded Rodney's eyes and the barbarian left his side, pushing himself to his feet with a firm pressure on Rodney's back. A gun fired again, and the barbarian threw himself at Ford, demolishing him with his bulk. Something struck hard against the wall.

Rodney sat up weakly, cowering backwards, but the gun in Ford's limp hand went off one more time, and Rodney was thrown back against the wall, twisting in the air so his shoulder struck it hard. He slid to the ground, and then the pain hit him, and he screamed.

end of chapter twelve