Chapter 10

'Human…Human…wake up.'

The combination of hoarse whispering and repetitive pushing at her shoulder woke Teyla from her deep, drug induced slumbers. Her head immediately protested, pounding as she opened her eyes to the dimmed lights of the laboratory.

Confused, it took her several more seconds to realise that it was Tamrak standing beside her, coaxing her to wakefulness. 'Wha…what are you doing?'

'You want to return to your friends, don't you?' he asked, beginning to unfasten the restraints on her wrists. 'I'm going to take you to them.'

She stared at him, frowning as she tried to make sense of things. She was definitely under the influence of a sedative, and for a moment she wondered if this was all just an elaborate hallucination. But she could feel the tug on her limbs as Tamrak worked on her bindings, and the headache currently clouding her thoughts felt real enough, too. Did she dare to believe this was really happening? Had Tamrak really chosen to help her?

With both her wrists free she was able to sit up and help undo the straps on her ankles, although her hands would not fully cooperate with her mental instructions. Her brain swam, and for a moment she thought she might vomit, but she breathed deeply, centred herself, and brought the nausea under control.

'Why are you doing this?' she asked, as she slipped from the table and settled her feet on the floor. She didn't dare let go of the tabletop yet, certain she would fall the moment she stepped away from it.

Tamrak studied his shoes rather than look at her. 'The prince has no right to keep you here. I should never have carried out his orders.'

Trying to shift her weight fully to her legs, Teyla felt a sharp pain in her left hip. A peak beneath the waistband of her trousers revealed livid bruising, dark purple against her caramel skin. 'What is this? What did he do to me?' she gasped, having no memory of the injury.

'Valkalar took samples from your bones. The procedure was quite…invasive.'

There was something about the way Tamrak kept his gaze averted as he said those words that deeply unsettled Teyla. Was that what had spurred Tamrak into action?

'How will we get out of here?' she asked, refusing to give it another thought. 'I am unsteady on my feet and cannot guarantee I can outrun your guards.'

At this, Tamrak seemed to genuinely perk up. 'No need. I have the perfect way to get you beyond the palace walls.'

He produced the containment device he'd kidnapped her with from his pocket and held it out in his palm. No one will know you're gone until it is too late.'

The horrible thought that this might be a trap struck Teyla as she looked first at it, then up at Tamrak's face. But she sensed no malice in him, and he now appeared able to hold her gaze on this matter at least. It had been obvious to her that Tamrak did not approve of most of Valkalar's behaviours, so it was not completely impossible to imagine he would empathise with her situation. 'I thought that device was faulty,' she said, eying is with more than a little doubt. 'I was stuck in there for weeks last time.'

'The prince fixed it,' he assured her, earning a look of disdain she could not control. Apparently, he saw it and recognised hesitation. 'I know he is rude and cruel, but the prince is well-studied in such things. I have faith that it will work correctly this time.' Then, as if sensing she might require further encouragement, he added. 'It is the only certain way you will not be seen trying to leave.'

Much as she hated the plan and feared she might be trapped in the machinations of this Birajan/Wraith hybrid technology, she knew Valkalar would never willingly let her leave this place. If being trapped within the device brought his foolish plans to a halt, then so be it. She would take her chances and pray to the Ancestors for a happy result.

'Very well,' she nodded, bracing herself. 'Do it.'

Tamrak gave a sharp nod in response, activated the device, and held it out toward her. A blinding flash of brilliant light swept over her, setting her nerve-endings tingling. And then…she knew nothing more.

oooOOOooo

That evening, scattered fragments of dark energy began to reform, pulling together and reuniting to repair the fractured thoughts and spirit of a long-suffering creature everyone on Gragoffa thought dead.

As Akalus became cognisant once more his fury soared. The Kheprians, his once loyal servants, had thwarted his attempts to once more take possession of the human, and more concerning than that, they had an effective defence against his onslaughts. Each time he was dissipated in that way he felt a part of himself slip away. He wasn't sure how many more times he could endure such pulses of energy before he finally forgot his purpose.

With his main base of operations devastated and his plans in disarray, he was tempted, not for the first time, to give up on his dreams of universal rebirth. Yet thoughts of his wife and daughter came back to him, and though hazy and distant, the grief of their loss still gripped him as strongly as ever. He would do this for them. They deserved to be avenged.

At least his plan to distract the Kheprians had worked. Pitting the Reliquiae against them and the rebels had kept them busy long enough for him to retrieve the things he'd needed unseen, even if he had been unable to claim Sheppard himself. The perimeter defences had been easily disarmed with no one watching them, and reactivated again with similar ease once he was done. In the years that the Kheprians had provided their loyal service, he had become familiar with their technology. The action had been simple, and they would never know the protection had failed.

He slipped into his battered armour, activating it, feeling the familiar and reassuring sense of containment that helped him feel whole and reduce the stress the disruption of his essence had left him with. He felt strong again, stronger than he had felt since Phylacos had fallen. Hope rose within him. There was not so much more to do to complete his plans, and Sheppard was still within reach. This was a mere glitch, nothing more. Soon, everything would be back on course.

Akalus tugged the dust cloths covering the control systems free, uncovering the functioning tech that lay beneath them. He had been fortunate in finding a Lantean outpost still operational. Whoever had been there had left without shutting it down. Perhaps there had been an emergency, perhaps they had been ambushed. All he knew was that he had found everything operational, and he himself had covered the devices centuries ago to protect them from the elements.

He sat down and fired up the database, calling up the file of calculations McKay had been working on for him. Irritating as he was, there was no disputing that the human was a genius when it came to Stargate technology, particularly the art of bypassing safety protocols without over-exerting critical systems. He'd almost completed his work, and from the patterns Akalus could see in his workings, he knew he could bring them to fruition.

Deciding to wait until he felt more recovered to complete that work, he let the transporter take him down to the lower underground levels of the facility. There, at the centre of the auxiliary control room, sat his prize possession – the control chair. It had taken him centuries to locate one, but eventually he'd found an abandoned city ship, landlocked and overgrown on a nearby planet. The interior showed it had once been transformed into a grand palace, decked out in what were now tattered and filthy curtains and tapestries, with faded paintings adorning the walls. The places had been abandoned for many, many years. The drone bays lay empty, the jumpers all departed. But at its heart sat the chair, still in one piece and hopefully functional. It at least appeared undamaged, so there was hope.

And to compliment that wondrous find, he had also located a ZPM there, and though mostly depleted, he needed every ounce of energy he could harness to fire up the space gate near where Doranda had once been and keep it functioning while the programming connected to every other Stargate in the galaxy and beyond. Around the room, various ZPM housings waited patiently for their power source to be plugged in. A dozen of them in total. And he had a dozen ZPMs just waiting for the right time to fill them. At least half of them still contained more than three quarters of their energy. It should be more than enough to fire up the wormhole and keep it active while it spread and did its work. Within hours, the blackhole would be connected to every operational Stargate, and once connected, there would be no shutting them down. Universal expansion would halt and then reverse. Everything would gradually come to an end, to be born again whenever and however nature saw fit.

And that was as it should be.

He travelled back to the upper level, wandering outside the outpost into the cooling evening air. The sun was setting, hovering just above the horizon and bathing the land in its warm orange glow. Yet Akalus could see no beauty in the view. He felt only a deep hatred for this world and the creatures crawling upon its face, especially those who had dared to revolt against him.

No matter.

They thought they had defeated him. Their complacence would soon be their downfall.

oooOOOooo

An insistent jabbing at his shoulder woke Sheppard the following morning. He opened his eyes to the sight of Mishta frowning down on him.

'If you want to go look for your friend, it's about time you dragged your sorry carcass out of bed, lazy human.'

Apparently, Mishta was back to her old self this morning, which was more than could be said for him. His head was sore and his body ached. In fact, he couldn't identify a single part of his body that didn't hurt. 'So, you're feeling better, huh?'

'Much. The physician left some treatment on her last visit to lessen the effects of the withdrawal. I am feeling much stronger this morning.'

Which was good news, except he wasn't sure he was awake enough to deal with 'perky' Mishta yet. He pushed up cautiously into a sitting position and as he rubbed at his dry eyes, he noticed everyone else was missing. 'Where'd everyone go?'

'They're breakfasting. They said I should leave you resting, but if you want to reach the market before it begins, we will need to move soon.'

He nodded, scratching at his hair. 'And you came to wake me anyway out of the goodness of your heart.'

'That's right. You should be thanking me since your friends would probably have left without you.'

'Gee, thanks. Whatever would I do without you?'

She straightened up, pouting over her folded arms. 'I get the feeling you don't mean that, Colonel Sheppard.'

It sounded odd to hear her use such a formal manner of address. She'd obviously overheard Mehra speaking to him and figured it was yet another way to push his buttons. He struggled to his feet, trying not to make it obvious just how much of an effort it was to do that. 'Of course I mean it. You're a regular little star.'

That brought a smirk to her face, 'Now I know you're doing that sarcasm thing my father told me you humans are so fond of. Anyway, you should get some breakfast, too. You're likely to snap in the breeze if you get much thinner. Although, you wouldn't make much of a meal for the Reliquiae, so there's a bright side to everything.'

Still smarting about the humans they'd lost yesterday, Sheppard cut their banter short. 'Don't suppose there's anywhere I can freshen up first?'

At this, she gave him a broad smile. 'Actually, we have just the thing,' she told him. 'Wait here.'

He did as she asked, straightening out his bedroll while he waited for her to come back. He wasn't exactly looking forward to another freezing cold wash session, but after yesterday, he was beat up and dusty and needed to feel clean again.

Mishta wasn't gone long, calling for him to follow her out of the chamber as she tossed a towel and a pellet of soap his way. 'Come on, then. We can't have you stinking like a wild gullack when we find your friend today.'

Catching them, he traced her path through her bedchamber and out into the 'parking lot' as he liked to think of it. From there, he became aware of voices and the smells of cooking he had become so familiar with over the past few weeks. His stomach grumbled in response, but he decided it could wait. Some things were more important.

Mishta lead him on through a couple more passageways until they opened up into the largest chamber he'd seen so far. The air there was moist and warm, the ceilings cavernous, and much of the ground was rippling pool of water. 'Will this do for you?' she asked, with a coquettish twitch of her eyebrow.

He squatted down beside it, dipping his hand into the pleasantly warm waters. Would it ever? He could barely remember the last time he'd washed in water above 'freeze your ass off' temperatures. 'Whoa! This is cool.'

She frowned, squatting beside him to test the water herself. 'But it's a natural warm spring…'

'No, I didn't mean…' Her violet eyes met his in confusion. He decided against a lengthy explanation. 'It's perfect.'

She smiled again, and he tried hard not to focus on how much it transformed her face and how he wished she smiled at him more often.

'Come on then. We don't have all morning.' She stood and began to unfasten her jacket, letting it slide from her arms and drop to the floor at the water's edge. Her other outer garments were discarded with similar efficiency, while Sheppard watched, his jaw dropping just a little more with each abandoned item. For her part, Mishta didn't even seem to notice, sitting down on the pool edge and dangling her feet into the water as she dipped a soap pellet into the lake and began to lather herself up. After rubbing the suds into both of her arms, she seemed to suddenly realise Sheppard hadn't moved. 'What are you waiting for, lazy human? We don't have much time.'

'I…should wait until you're done,' he told her, keeping his eyes fixed at neck level and above as he started backing toward the exit. 'Probably best if I…give you some privacy.'

'Don't be silly, she snorted. 'It's not as if I'm naked.'

And he really didn't need that thought in his head right now. 'I know…but…'

She swung her legs out of the water and got to her feet, tracking his movements. 'We all wash here. The place is huge; do you honestly think we'll each wait our turn to use it? Communal ablutions are something we're all used to. We agreed last night that if anyone wanted to wash alone they should leave their boots in the passageway, but I doubt anyone will. I've spent all my life washing alongside others. It's not something we even think about.'

'Yeah, but…'

'But what? Honestly, John, I wouldn't have imagined you to be such a prude.'

And neither would he. He'd stopped backing up, and she was right there with him now, gazing up at him. She began unbuttoning his shirt, her wet fingers leaving little dark patches on the fabric where they touched. 'Let's see just how filthy you are under all this, shall we?'

If sarcasm was a human trait, innuendo was apparently a universal language. For a few seconds he let her continue, thinking Why the hell not? Let's see where this goes, until he remembered Marmotah was no more than a couple of passages away.

He grabbed her hands to stop her. 'Stop.'

Her stare remained intensely fixed on his, and she made no attempt to pull her hands free. 'You don't mean that.'

Those words were a truth he'd been trying hard to deny. He was falling for this girl, falling hard, and he had a feeling all his protests would end up for nothing if he didn't extricate himself from this situation and fast. There were so many other things he needed to focus on right now, he really didn't need this distraction.

'Yes…I do,' he asserted, letting go of her and mentally telling his legs to get moving again. They refused to obey that order.

Undeterred by his lies, Mishta now took hold of his hands and began to walk backward toward the pool, trying to tug him along with her. 'There's nothing wrong in this, John. You have no reason to feel guilty. We're only getting clean.'

Clean…unlike the thoughts he was having right now.

She turned and jumped into the pool, fully submerging herself before she bobbed back up again and smoothed her hair back from her face. 'Come on in. I'll help if there's anywhere you can't reach.'

He froze at the water's edge, torn between his desire for the beautiful young female literally throwing herself at him, and his desperate need not to do something that would leave her shunned and alone when he left or…

Died.

That word hit home hard.

If he was dying, there was no point in this. It would just hurt her more when he was gone. He couldn't do that to her. 'I'll come back when you're done.'

She frowned, as if she really couldn't understand why he was refusing her offer. Perhaps she couldn't. She was most likely still hopped up on enzyme, even if the effects were gradually reducing. He doubted she was thinking straight at all. 'Am I that repulsive to you?' she asked, her voice plaintive and small in that echoey chamber.

Something in that question triggered Sheppard's anger, releasing the anger he'd been keeping pent up since the Reliquiae ambush. 'Maybe you're used to guys falling at your feet when you flutter those pretty eyelashes of yours, but I'm sorry, that's not gonna happen with me. It may have escaped your notice, but we lost over a dozen humans to the Reliquiae yesterday, and today I'm going out to look for my friend at some meat market and I have no idea if she'll be there or not, or what condition she'll be in if she is. So, your gonna have to forgive me if I'm just not fee –'

He stopped. Was that footsteps?

Mishta splashed her way to the side of the pool and pressed herself against it, concealing herself as best she could. 'Someone's coming!'

With only one passage in or out, there was no way either one of them was sneaking away unseen. The sound grew clearer – footsteps and voices conversing – so it was at least two someones on their way in. It was only at the last moment that Sheppard remembered Mishta's clothes were piled up at the side of the pool, and he threw his towel on top of them to hide them from view.

Lansha and Mehra appeared in the tunnel entrance. 'Ah, John. There you are. We were looking for you.'

'Well…you found me,' he replied, throwing them a crooked smile.

Lansha looked puzzled, glancing around the chamber. 'Are you alone? I thought I heard you talking to someone.'

'No, it's just me,' he lied, thinking on his feet. 'I was giving myself a little pep talk ready to hit the market.'

The answer seemed to satisfy him. 'I often do the same thing myself when I'm anxious,' he conceded. 'By the way, we'll be leaving shortly. You might want to grab some food before we depart. Keep your strength up for the mission ahead.'

'Yeah…I will. I was gonna get cleaned up first,' he announced, hoping that would get rid of them.

'Of course…oh, and have you seen Mishta?' Lansha asked, the question instantly bringing a flush of colour to Sheppard's face. 'She told me she was going to try to talk you out of leaving. I'm surprised she isn't here right now giving you a piece of her mind.'

Sheppard gave an exaggerated look of confusion, shrugging. 'Nope…she hasn't said anything about that to me,' he replied, his annoyance pricked once again. 'Maybe she went to get some air.'

'Perhaps. I'll go look for her, but if she isn't back before we plan to leave, we're going to have to go without her.'

Sheppard gave him a tight smile and a nod as he left. Mehra lingered a few seconds longer, lifting up the towel with the toe of her boot. Then she gave him the widest, face-splitting grin before winking and jogging out, too.

Behind him, Mishta popped her head up over the side of the pool. 'That was close! I felt sure Lansha would see me.'

He rounded on her the minute he was sure he wouldn't be overheard. 'So, you were planning to talk me out of leaving, huh? I guess you figured actions would speak louder than words. At least I know now why you decided to come wake me up when the others wanted to leave me sleeping.'

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. Seemed he'd caught her in a lie.

Another tight smile twisted his lips as he shook his head in disappointment. 'This was all just another one of your games, wasn't it?'

'John…I…'

'That's Colonel Sheppard to you…and I think we're done here.'

She instantly clamped her mouth shut as if he'd slapped her. He couldn't look at her anymore, so stung was he that she had played him again and he'd allowed it to happen. 'I'm outta here,' he called back over his shoulder as he made for the exit.

The sound of water lapping was all that came in response as she wordlessly climbed out of the pool. She made no excuses…didn't beg him to stay.

He supposed that was for the best.

oooOOOooo

With a small breakfast consumed, they were all boarding a ship in less than fifteen minutes. Sheppard recognised it as the craft they had used when rescuing him from the Reliquiae fortress. Not that it had been a rescue…more of an abduction, really. He'd honestly doubted he would survive the trip at Mishta's hands, now this journey would be awkward for a whole different reason.

He picked a seat at the back of the cabin, well away from where Juroah sat running through pre-flight checks. He figured Mishta would sit up front with him, if she turned up at all, so the more space he could put between them the better. Right now, he cringed with embarrassment every time he thought about what she'd tried to tempt him to do in the bathing pool. He really didn't want to have to deal with her at all.

Mehra and Ronon sat close by, checking their weapons and secreting them about their persons in various holders which would be concealed by their Chapellan robes. Sheppard's was once again unarmed since he was meant to remain on the ship unless there was an emergency. How he was meant to help without a gun hadn't yet been explained to him. He was getting pretty pissed off with being treated like some vulnerable child to be protected against anything risky, and the way he felt right now, he was pretty sure the issue would come to a head before the day was out.

Conversation drifted in from outside of the craft, a tingle of discomfort rippling up the back of his neck as he heard first Lansha's then Mishta's voices. Great…so she was going to front this out? He really didn't need her there splitting his focus, but he wouldn't be churlish enough to ask her to leave.

'Why is your hair wet? When did you find time to bathe?' Lansha asked his sister as they boarded.

From the corner of his eye, Sheppard was conscious that Mehra's head snapped round in his direction, but he stubbornly refused to meet her gaze.

'Just now,' she barked. 'Obviously.' She wrung out her hair on the steps before following her brother into the cabin.

'You must have been quick about it. We only left John there a few minutes ago,' Lansha responded, taking up the co-pilot seat beside Juroah.

Juroah's head now turned slowly in his direction, just a hint of a question in his expression. Sheppard sank a little lower in his seat and looked out of the window instead, despite the dismal view.

'Not all of us need to spend hours preening, dear brother,' she growled, stomping her way on board. The footsteps kept approaching, Sheppard silently praying that she didn't have the audacity to take up the free seat beside him,

But of course, she did. He felt the seat dip and his cloak landed in his lap.

He took a deep breath before turning her way and whispering, 'Really? You couldn't find another seat?'

'This happens to be my favourite.'

He narrowed his eyes. 'You have a favourite seat?'

'Is that a problem?' she challenged.

He blinked back at her, seething. 'No. Go ahead. Knock yourself out.' He doubted she understood what he meant, but he didn't have the patience to explain.

Staring forward, she asked, 'Why is it that you choose to always think the worst of me?'

The question took him by surprise, particularly because it was voiced with no hint of malice, only genuine curiosity.

'I don't –'

She dropped her voice to a whisper. 'Then why, every time I show you any…affection…do you accuse me of deception?'

Sheppard glanced over at Mehra, who immediately averted her gaze and pretended no to be listening. Mishta was keeping her voice low enough not to be heard up front, but he was pretty certain that both Mehra and Ronon, the latter of whom had famously acute hearing, could catch most of their discussion.

'Your brother told me you were planning to persuade me not to leave the camp,' he whispered as quietly as he could while remaining audible. 'That was one hell of a technique you employed, back there, by the way.'

She half-smiled, shaking her head. 'You think I was planning to make myself so irresistible you couldn't tear yourself away from me?'

He quirked an eyebrow, smirking right back at her. 'Are you suggesting the thought never crossed your mind?'

'Many thoughts were running through my mind,' she admitted, 'But none of them were about anything other than what was happening right at that moment. You had me rather preoccupied.'

Just beyond her, he saw Mehra turn their way again…until Ronon elbowed her and she pretended not to be listening. Subtle, guys.

'Right, so it's a complete coincidence that you suddenly couldn't keep your hands off me,' he drawled, fighting back an even broader smile.

She didn't reply. Instead, a frown etched itself into her forehead.

'What?' he demanded.

'I just realised,' she mused, her eyes roving over his puzzled face. 'It's not me you think so little of…it's you.'

This girl was way too smart for her own good. 'Right, 'cos you've known me, what, a whole four weeks? Two of which you were unconscious, might I point out.' he snapped.

'My father told me once that he was the kind of man who,' she paused as if listening to an unheard conversation, making sure she got the words right, 'wore his heart on his sleeve. He explained that meant he couldn't hide his true emotions.'

'And you're telling me this why exactly?' Sheppard shrugged.

'It strikes me that you and he are exactly opposites in this respect.'

He couldn't argue with that, although he didn't like her saying it to his face and putting him on the spot this way. 'You don't say.'

'I know what you're doing, John,' she continued. 'You think if you're unkind to me I'll leave you alone. But this isn't the real you,' she told him, waving a hand casually in his direction. 'The real you is the man my brother told me slipped into our shelter to spend time with me whenever he could while I was sick. The real you is the man who mourns the loss of humans he barely knows because he blames himself for everything wrong in this world. The real you is the man who puts his life on the line to save others because it's the right thing to do whether they would do the same for you or not. You can't hide him, John. I know he's still there, scared to show his real face. But he's always there when it matters most.'

He stared back at her, angry and frustrated that she could so easily decipher what he tried so hard to conceal. What could he say? He couldn't deny the truth of what she said. He'd been battling to keep his true feeling hidden, but he'd lost the fight. She'd charged right through his defences and skewered him with his own pretence.

'Mishta, I hope you're not annoying John,' Lansha called back to her, just as the craft began to lift off and turn for the cave entrance. 'He has a lot on his mind. Leave him be.'

After a pause in which she examined every inch of his expression, she replied, 'I'm sure he has,' then slid out of the seat and joined her brother near the front of the craft.

She didn't look back again.

Ronon now ventured a glance Sheppard's way, an arched eyebrow asking the unspoken question of whether he was okay. Sheppard rubbed at his mouth, his stubble bristling against his fingers as he pondered Mishta's words. There was more than a small chance that she was right about him being the one with the problem. At the back of his mind there was a persistent, nagging doubt that he could really measure up to what Mishta wanted and needed, and instead of facing that, he was imagining all kinds of subterfuge and trickery on her part. Some part of him, the part damaged by the death of his mother and the breakdown in the relationship with his father, told him that he didn't deserve happiness. That was why he sabotaged any chances he had of experiencing it. It had taken years for Nancy to figure out he was damaged goods, yet in a matter of weeks, Mishta had seen right through him.

The thought that maybe she was more right for him than anyone in his life had ever been left him suddenly devastated that he might not be around long enough to find out if that was true.

A/N: Thanks to everyone still reading. Don't forget to share your thoughts. It's always much appreciated.