I think I told several people the next chapter would be posted tomorrow. I'm very sorry for lying to you. I hope you're not too disappointed to get it one day early. ;-)

Chapter fourteen: A matter of trust

The room felt different when Sheppard re-entered it, and approached McKay. Dex was with him, and that meant something, but Dex was a stranger. Teyla, too, had given him her support, but she no longer lived on Atlantis. If he survived this, perhaps he'd have to go AWOL, and take his place amongst the natives.

The realisation had struck him without warning. Elizabeth, Rodney and Teyla had all in their own way tried to tell him, but he had persisted with his ridiculous optimistic hope. Something was wrong in Atlantis, he'd fight it, and all would be forgiven. Job back, team back, friends back… Magic wand waved, and everything right again.

What a fool he had been. When Ford had attacked him, and everything had gone crazy and confusing, his fuddled mind had sought out McKay. Then McKay had come to spring him from prison, and for a while he had almost let himself believe that things were back to normal, at least where the two of them were concerned.

Of course they was not. McKay had shouted at him a thousand times since Sheppard had known him. There was no reason at all why this time should have felt different, but it had. Perhaps it was because it had come so soon after McKay's account of the things that had happened over the last two years - things that everyone else had shared, but Sheppard had not. It had shattered the last tiny part of him that sought to deny what had happened. He would still do everything he could to protect Atlantis, but he no longer hoped to have a place in the city after all was done. He now knew that he would not.

"McKay." He sat down on a dusty work bench, and took care to keep his voice neutral. "We need to talk."

McKay looked startled. "What about?"

His face had always known how to smile, regardless of how he felt inside. "What about? Let's start with the fact that Atlantis has been taken over by unknown enemies. I want your assessment of the situation."

"Assessment…" McKay moistened his lips. "Uh…"

Sheppard tried to detach himself from the situation - forget the pains of his body; forget that this was Rodney he was talking to, his team-mate and perhaps almost his friend. This was another like Dex - a stranger, whose path crossed his for a while, and would then be gone. "First we have corporal whatever he's called acting out of character and shooting Caldwell. Then we have the attack on Ford's men. Then Ford himself. Zelenka. Ford again. You heard what he said. If there had been any doubts, he blew them right away."

McKay hand had risen to the inside of his elbow. "Everyone's gone crazy."

"More than that," Sheppard said. He tucked his hands under his thighs, legs dangling off the work bench. "After Ford attacked me, I thought it might be some drug that made people act crazy, but Ford kept saying 'we.' It's more than that - some sort of mind control, perhaps."

McKay's hand rose higher, his fingers rubbing his brow. Come on, Rodney, Sheppard wanted to berate him. It's normally you doing all the talking, and I trail along behind with the nods and the questions. "After Zelenka attacked me," McKay said, his voice far less sure than normal, "I thought… I almost thought I was hearing a voice, telling me what to do."

Of course, Sheppard realised. McKay prided himself on his mind, just as Sheppard prided himself on his control. It would strike McKay very hard if he couldn't control his own thoughts.

"I think I did, too, after Ford attacked me," he admitted, and was pleased to see a flash of relief on McKay's face. "It's hard to be sure. It was all mixed up with my memories of what she did to me."

"Mind control, then." McKay looked more like himself. "When you say that Ford attacked you, I presume you mean that he injected you with something?" When Sheppard nodded, he said, "Mind control facilitated by some sort of drug. It doesn't look like the work of that Goa'uld - that's something."

"Some shiny new Pegasus Galaxy version of possession, then." Sheppard smiled grimly. "The question is: how to stop it. Ford said that all of the military is theirs. If Zelenka's under their control, at least some of the scientists are…"

"Much as it pains me to say it," McKay said, "but we need Carson. The drug…"

"Carson's in on it," Sheppard stated confidently. McKay started to object, but he talked through him. "Think about it. Ford and Zelenka, and God knows who else, all armed with syringes. Ford was fine - at least I think he was fine - until he went to the infirmary."

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" McKay snapped his fingers. "The post-mission check-up. Carson was really insistent - far more so than normal."

"It makes sense," Sheppard said. "If someone was compromised off-world, the first place they'd go is the infirmary. Carson was probably one of the first to be affected, and then he was in the perfect position to pass it on."

"Oh God." McKay's hand was fluttering anxiously at his chest. "I can't believe how close I came. If you hadn't come back from the dead, I'd have gone for my check-up. Oh God, Carson… Luring people into his lair and then stabbing them with alien drugs."

"You didn't escape, Rodney," Sheppard reminded him. "Zelenka?" He frowned. "The question we should really be asking is why we both managed to shake off its effects."

"I'd have thought that was obvious, Major." McKay laughed. "Since when have you ever obeyed an order? I feel sorry for anyone who tries mind control on you. Go left! and you'd go right. Kill all your friends, and you'd try and kill him instead. Doing mind control on you would be like trying to herd cats."

"So what about you, McKay?" Sheppard retorted.

"Me?" Rodney gestured with one hand, as if Sheppard was being particularly idiotic. "Since when I have cared about anything people want? Genius, remember? I always know best."

On another day, at another time, Sheppard might have smiled, or made a sly retort. As it was, he just frowned. "Some people can resist, then. I imagine that's why they shot Caldwell - because they knew he would resist."

"No wonder the military fell like a pack of cards," McKay sneered. "They're brainless automata. Caldwell and his minions have them following orders like robots."

"As you clearly do to Zelenka, then," Sheppard said sharply. Regardless of what had happened, these were his men. He would not tolerate them being so dismissed.

But McKay's mind had already moved on, ignoring him. "How do I know you really did resist it? This whole thing could be a trap. You people would go to any lengths to capture my mind."

"I guess you can't know," Sheppard said quietly. "You just have to trust."

"Oh, please, trust." McKay shook his head disgustedly. "If this thing is true, I can't trust anybody. Nobody is who they seem. No, it's just me, like it always has been. Even if they smile, or come with some sob story about escaping the clutches of the enemy, I've got to assume that they're not themselves."

It was true. Sheppard looked up at the small window, at the sky that was already brightening to a pale, familiar morning. He remembered fighting the Genii, alone in a city that had become hostile. At least then it had been clear who the enemy was. This time, they wore no foreign uniform. There were no glowing eyes or deepened voices to show who he needed to fight. The safest thing was to assume that everybody was the enemy. The safest thing was to do this alone.

And yet… And yet… He did not give his friendship easily, but he was quick to give his trust. You had to in war. You had to know that the person you had never met before would defend your back in a fight. He had taken a chance with Teyla, and had been well repaid, just as he had taken a chance with Dex today. When Bates had accused Teyla of betraying teams to the Wraith, he had defended her passionately, not because he had known that she was innocent, but because if he had failed to trust her, he would have become somebody he had no wish to be.

"Sometimes you have to trust," he said slowly. "Without trust, I don't think any of us have a chance of getting through this alive."

McKay looked away.

It was time to say it. Trust, yes. He trusted McKay. But faith…? Certainty that trust was returned? He had almost had it just days before, but now it was gone. Elizabeth had dismissed his concerns and made clear that he had no right to say them. Teyla had helped him in the end, but even she had doubted his motives.

"You don't have to help, Rodney." He pushed himself off the table; walked towards the wall. With his arms folded, he looked up at the slit of sky, and imagined himself flying. Everything came easier in the air. "You heard what Brett said. You're a target because you helped me. There's still a chance…"

"Too late, Major. You've made me a marked man. I always knew you'd get me killed."

The jumper responding to his unspoken commands. Swooping and wheeling in the air, dancing on the clouds. "Then stay here, off the sensors…"

"My bolt-hole." McKay gave a bitter laugh. "No, I imagine they'd come looking for me, anyway, even if I've had nothing to do with you. I'm far too valuable. It'll be convert or kill, and they failed to convert so, yes, I'm a dead man."

The small speck of light appeared at the window, as the edge of the sun reached it. From only that tiny speck, light flooded the room.

"The thing is, Major, what are we doing to do about all this?"

Sheppard turned to face him, the light behind him. His shadow fell across McKay's body. "Find out the source. Find out who's doing the mind control. Find out how to reverse it. Stay alive. Join up with Teyla. Keep Elizabeth safe. Stop them from getting to Earth. Take the city back."

"Oh." McKay's eyes widened. "Only that." He swallowed. "Which one first?"

"I guess we have to work on them all at once," Sheppard said. "From what Ford said, we have to assume that the military is entirely under enemy control. It's possible that Major Brett is clean and genuinely believes I'm the bad guy, but I don't want to take that risk. Besides, I don't like the guy." His hand rose to his aching jaw. "I think he knows full well I'm innocent. I'm just the fall guy to justify his actions in the eyes of anyone not yet affected."

"So there's two of us taking on the whole of the city." McKay looked as if he couldn't quite believe that any of this was real.

"Three of us," Sheppard corrected, "and one of us is a genius, remember?"

"Yes. Yes I am." McKay cocked his head and smiled with reluctant contentment. "I'm worth at least ten."

Earlier, after Sheppard had bound McKay's wound, he had almost asked Are we good? They had talked for a while just as they used to talk, and McKay had come with him all this way, despite the risk to himself. He had refrained from asking it in the end. It was not the sort of thing he asked. He did not talk about feelings; actions spoke louder. He and McKay had never spoken about their burgeoning friendship; they had just let it happen. He had thought that they could save the city together, and things would resume their old course, without any words needing to be said.

Now, for a second time, he almost asked the question, but once again he did not. This time it was because he knew the answer. You didn't have to hear the word spoken to know when something was broken. A rejection did not have to be in words to hurt.

Oh yes, he thought. He would do everything he could to save the city, but after that…? No, there was no afterwards, just fog on an empty shore.

The summons came after an hour of waiting, after four abortive attempts to get past Teyla at the door. Elizabeth had tried Brett on the radio - tried everyone on the radio - but there had been no response from anyone. That in itself concerned her far more than she let Teyla know.

It was Carson Beckett who knocked on the door. "Doctor Weir?" His Scottish accent seemed less strong when filtered through the thick door. "Are you there? You aren't responding to your radio."

Ah. A malfunction, then. She let out a breath, but not all the way. "I'm here. Is there a problem?"

"Of course there's a bloody problem," Carson exclaimed. "Major Sheppard's going on a rampage and I've got wounded and dead half way across the city."

Teyla held her hand up, half-blocking the door. Her eyes were grave, and her head was slowly shaking. I wish I had your faith, Elizabeth wished she could say to her. Teyla had no official position on Atlantis, and decisions to her were easy things. Just as John had defended Teyla so long before, Teyla would defend him, refusing to contemplate that he could be guilty of these charges. Elizabeth did not have that luxury. He had been gone for two years. Even if it had only seemed to him like two days, much could happen in two days; Teyla had said as much.

It was nothing to do with trust. Did she trust the friend she hadn't seen for two years, or the people she had lived and worked with for all that time? The answer, of course, was that she had to be ready to distrust any of them, and put the safety of the expedition first at all times. She could not stake everything on a sentimental attachment to a memory two years dead.

"How's Colonel Caldwell?" she shouted to Carson.

"Still alive," he said, "but still critical. You need to come now, Elizabeth. It's not safe for anyone to be alone."

Elizabeth kept her gaze level, deliberately not looking at Teyla. "I thought all civilians were supposed to do just that, and stay in their quarters."

"Only until Major Brett's men got to them, and took them to safety. I've got some of the soldier lads with me here now. Don't worry, Elizabeth, you'll be perfectly safe as long as you come with us."

Teyla was shaking her head; Elizabeth saw it out of the corner of her eye. "Why Doctor Beckett?" Teyla whispered. "Why is he here, and not treating the wounded?"

"Major Brett knows that you and Major Sheppard were close," Carson said. "He feared you would be inclined to distrust him and to believe the best of Major Sheppard. I thought you'd listen if it was me. I knew Sheppard, too. I liked the man. But he's not the man he used to be. He's our enemy."

Elizabeth kept her hands folded in front of her. "You assured me that he was John Sheppard."

"Physically, yes. But mentally… He's not the man we knew. He attacked Lieutenant Ford - knocked him out and left him for dead. It's on camera, Elizabeth. I've seen it. You need to come with us. You were right to stay in your room before; it's not safe without an escort. But please come with us now. It's not just for your own protection. You're the commander of the expedition, and we need you."

"It is a trick," Teyla hissed, but there was doubt appearing even in her eyes. "He's lying."

Elizabeth put both hands together, and raised them to her mouth, the edge of her fingers pressing against her lips. Carson's words made sense - it's on camera. She understood Teyla's need to doubt, but there was no reason why Carson would lie to her. Even if he was, she was the commander of the expedition. It was not for her to skulk in her room just because of a possible risk. If her people were facing danger, it fell to her to face it alongside them.

She straightened her spine, assuming the pose that had carried her through so many days. "I'm going with him, Teyla. Please let me pass."

Teyla's eyes had lost any certainty that they had once held. "But…"

"This is clearly a misunderstanding," Elizabeth said patiently. "They think John did these things, when you and I know that he didn't. How can I defend him when I'm stuck in here? Brett implied that they were going to kill him. How can I stop that when I'm in here?"

The worst thing of all, though - the thing that she would never forget, and never, perhaps, forgive herself for - was that it was a lie. Oh yes, she would defend him if she saw evidence for his innocence, she would keep them from killing him even if he was guilty, but she felt none of the certainty that she put into those words. She would defend him if she saw evidence. She did not have faith.

"I can't command you," she said quietly to Teyla, "but I can ask you. Please, Teyla, let me pass."

And with a look that Elizabeth could not read, Teyla did.

Carson was outside, looking rumpled and sleepless. Ford was with him, as were four others Marines. Remembering Carson's accusation against Sheppard, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Ford, and saw the clotted blood in his hair, and the slightly dazed look in his eyes. She supposed he was on his way to the infirmary under Carson's care.

"Lead on," she said to the Marines, keeping her gaze narrow.

"Yes, ma'am." They started to walk, their faces impassive. With one last glance at Teyla, standing alone in the dark doorway to her room, she started to follow them.

"Well, that was easier than it could have been," Doctor Beckett said, after Weir and her escort had gone.

Aiden walked away a few steps, and tapped his radio. "Teyla Emmagen is here," he said quietly. "What shall I do?"

The answer came over the radio in words, just as the same urge crystallised in his mind. She is of no use to us. Kill her.

He drew his pistol from his holster. Doctor Beckett was watching him, his eyes dark with understanding.

Both levels of his mind were fuming. He'd been attacked! Sheppard had attacked him, knocking him out, and leaving him in the hallway for Major Brett to find, his failure clear for everyone to see. He had to show himself useful again. And Sheppard… Sheppard had rejected his gift. And who was that big barbarian type who fought at his side, following his orders, moving without those orders even needing to be put into words? Ford had been like that once, and now… and now…

Kill her, said the voice that came from outside. We cannot convert her. She is strong of mind, and will resist. Alive, she will find some way to join Sheppard. She will be another enemy against us.

Kill her, said the higher part of his mind and the shadow alike. It will hurt him. And the lower part remembered that they had once been friends and comrades, but that she had left the city when he had been at his lowest ebb, in the immediate aftermath of Caldwell's arrival.

He opened the door; kept the pistol concealed behind his back. "Aiden." Her mouth smiled, but her eyes did not.

"Teyla." He nodded.

"Is it true?" she asked. "What Doctor Beckett said?"

He half raised his free hand towards his head. "You can see that it is." The wound was not crippling, but his head throbbed with a dull intensity, and his eyes hurt as if grit had been thrown into them.

"Was it Major Sheppard?"

"It was."

He saw doubt flood her eyes. Kill her, his mind urged. His hand was sweaty on the grip of the pistol.

Remember who you are, Sheppard had said. Why should you, Aiden Ford, want to damage Atlantis? Fight it, Ford. There's still time to change. Sheppard had called him a good officer. Despite everything, he had still found time to praise him.

He closed his free hand around the edge of the door. It meant nothing, the higher part of his mind reminded him. Sheppard was ignorant. He had rejected the chance to be made one with them. Of course he would use any trick, stoop to any lie, in order to get Ford to betray his own.

She doubts him now, thought the lower part of his mind - the Aiden Ford who had fought shoulder to shoulder with this woman for nearly a year. Isn't that enough? Isn't that better for our purposes than death?

Kill her. The order came with fierce pain. It was repeated in his ear - two harsh words through his ear piece.

His hand was shaking, but he raised the gun, and pulled the trigger. With a shocked cry, Teyla Emmagen twisted sideways, and fell to the floor.

Ford left the room without looking back.

end of chapter fourteen