A/N – spoiler alert! Yes, I knew there had to be one. Spoiler for Poisoning the Well. Well, not exactly, more like a spoiler for the aftermath of that story, as told in the Wraith "Journal" at the scifi channel's website (click on "Aliens" and you'll see what I mean).

CHAPTER TEN: THE WAY OUT

Sheppard felt absolutely wretched, stumbling on the top step as they cleared their second set of stairs leading upwards. The walls moved, not because they still felt aftershocks (though the occasional tremble still occurred), but because every time he focused on a section of wall, his eyes would shift away—meaning he had the spins. It was if he was coming down off a particularly nasty acid trip, and he didn't have the "up" time to have made it worthwhile. He felt hungover, sick, his right wrist was throbbing unmercifully, and, to his mind, everything he did, even walking, felt like it was taking too much energy. The whole world felt exaggerated, and he really just wanted to lie down and sleep it off.

Of course, trekking through seemingly endless black, wet, and cold hallways (the children had asked they not light any more fires, and had put all the ones Rodney had lit out) while following a luminescent thirteen year old boy and being dogged by a whole troop of jade colored children did not really help his perspective.

He turned, glancing behind him at McKay, and frowned some more.

The scientist's limp was worse, and he looked sickly in the green luminescent light being shed by the ghosts. The blood that had dribbled down his shin had dried to a nasty black, and the skin around the knee was already turning ugly colors, the edges of which Sheppard could see easily beneath the "wrap" McKay had made with his ripped trouser leg.

He also noted the desperate grip McKay had on the axe, which he was still using like a cane. The fingers were tightly wrapped around the section of wood just below the spear point and above the axe heads. It was just tall enough to work for the purpose McKay was using it for, though Sheppard would have thought it too unwieldy and heavy. Truth was, he was amazed the thing hadn't sliced open the scientist's hip by now though. Those edges looked damned sharp. He still wished McKay hadn't taken it, but he just didn't feel up to bringing it up right now, especially since it was obviously helping to keep him moving.

He also still wondered how it was possible that the weapon was so perfectly preserved. The idea disturbed him.

Then again, he was following a ghost. Talk about disturbing.

Though, to be honest, right now it was the quiet that bothered him more than anything. The children made no noise, and though McKay breathed heavily which each step of his left foot, he hadn't said a word since the oval room. Basically, the only sounds he heard were the shuffling of his and McKay's feet, the clank of the axe handle on the ground, the occasional aftershock rumble and the omnipresent "plink...plink...plink" of water dripping everywhere.

The silence was really beginning to get to him. McKay had a habit of running off at the mouth, but only when people asked him questions, and no one had asked him one in a while. He himself was not what he'd consider a big talker, but he liked company, and company meant some sort of conversation. So....

"What's your name?" he asked, stepping up close to the boy leading them.

The child slowed, and Sheppard could see some surprise on his face at the question. Eventually, the boy shrugged, presumably to himself, and glanced sideways at the major.

"Conla."

"I'm...."

"We know who you are," the boy cut him off. "You are Major Sheppard and he is McKay Rodney."

"Rodney McKay," Sheppard corrected with a smile.

"Doctor Rodney McKay," Rodney muttered unconsciously.

"And you know this because you were listening to us talk to each other, right?" Sheppard asked the boy.

"Yes."

"Clever," the major pursed his lips, did you kids end up down here, anyway?"

McKay looked up for the first time, his eyes bright, surprised at the audacity of the question. He was even more surprised when Conla simply shrugged again and answered.

"The Wraith were coming. It was coming time for the Culling. Our families thought Adrah's Temple could hide us. The pool room was so far underground and so well hidden, the Wraith would never find us, they said."

"And they didn't!" another young voice called. Both McKay and Sheppard looked behind them, to see a dark-haired girl who looked to be about ten smiling up at McKay. The scientist just favored her with a grimace back--she didn't notice...In fact, she almost looked...enamored? Sheppard pursed his lips to his smirk at McKay's nonplussed expression when the scientist met his gaze.

"No, that's right, Brigid, they didn't," Conla agreed, looking back again at Sheppard. "They have never found us."

"And, uh," McKay couldn't resist getting into the conversation, "How long ago was it that they hid you exactly"

Conla shrugged, "A long time. Down here we can not tell the seasons as they pass, but it has felt like many seasons."

"I see. And, out of curiosity," McKay was running a theory now, "was anyone sick? In your villages I mean?"

Sheppard frowned at him, confused by the question. He was even more confused when Conla nodded.

"Yes. There was a sickness—it touched every one of the villages. But it was not a bad sickness."

"My momma died," one boy muttered somewhere. "I thought it was a bad sickness."

"But it had run its course," Conla countered. "I remember the healers telling us that. We had nothing more to fear from it." He looked at McKay, his eyes narrowing, "Why?"

"Just a thought." McKay was looking at Sheppard, "I wonder if, when the Wraith came, the parents used the sickness to explain the absence of any children...."

Conla shrugged to say he didn't know, not realizing the question wasn't really aimed at him, but at the major. Sheppard's eyebrows rose in reply, catching on to McKay's train of thought.

It would explain why no one came back for the children, McKay was telling him. The Wraith thought of the people on the various planets like herd animals. If one planet was sick, the Wraith might prefer to wipe out that population rather than risk that population spreading the disease through the Stargates, just as farmers back on earth were forced to destroy a whole herd of cattle if even just one of them came down with Foot & Mouth Disease or Mad Cow. The villagers on the planet now may not even be related to these children....

McKay's eyes fell, seeing acknowledgement and a little sadness in the major's eyes at his guess.

Sheppard cleared his throat, "Anyway...so," he looked to change the subject, "why do you want to scare people away from this place?"

Conla frowned, "Because people will bring the Wraith, show them where we are. The monsters will follow the people who come down here, and, even if they are not looking for us, the Wraith might find us...and try to take our life force. Our families put us down here to keep us safe. We have tried to stay hidden. So we scare people away."

"Do a darn good job too," McKay mumbled, the words like acid on his tongue.

"Your life force?" Sheppard frowned. "But how can the Wraith hurt you? You're de­--"

"Major!" McKay snapped the name out like a whip.

"What?" Sheppard hit back, just as quick. He turned to look at the scientist, saw the warning in his eyes, and grimaced. "What's the matter?"

Rodney just lifted both eyebrows, but didn't reply. Sheppard's own eyes narrowed.

"You mean they don't know?"

"Of course they don't! Why else would they still be here? And I'm not going to tell them, and if I were you, I wouldn't either."

Conla was looking with confusion at the two adults, seeing the test of wills between them.

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, they're helping us get out of here."

"Oh, of all the selfish...."

"Second of all, they're not exactly your typical...incorporeal beings. They can move and touch things, Major. They incapacitated you, if you don't recall, and they've kept this axe here sharp. Do you want to tell something that can do that something they don't want to hear?"

Sheppard looked down at the weapon, "they kept that sharp?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Exactly."

"Still...."

"Plus, did I mention they're leading us out of here?"

Sheppard glanced back at him, "Yes, you did," he stated darkly.

McKay just gave a small, humorless smile.

The major sighed, turning around...and found Conla had stopped. The boy was facing him, his arms crossed over his thin chest. A handful more of the children were also behind him, having materialized without them realizing, all with dark expressions on their faces.

Whoops.

McKay twisted, hopping a little on his right leg, seeing that the children behind had also gotten closer to him, and he lifted the axe to hold it in both hands. The girl that had spoken earlier was practically attached to his hip--her expression, oddly, one of concern. She had taken hold of his sleeve—and the fact that she could do that still sent chills down his spine.

"We're not stupid, you know," she whispered up at the scientist. He just blinked at the gravity of her tone. "We may not know as much as you, but we're not stupid or deaf. You shouldn't treat us as such."

The other children behind her also looked afraid and angry.

"What is it we don't know, Major Sheppard?" Conla asked Sheppard, his voice echoing slightly in the hall.

Sheppard tried to look innocent, "What?"

"What don't you want to tell us?" The boy lifted his chin. "Is it about our families?"

"Oh...well...," Sheppard sighed, "Okay, see, here's the thing—"

"Major," McKay's tone warned, his eyes flashing to the major. "Don't."

Sheppard frowned, then shook his head. "They need to be told, McKay."

McKay stared at him for a moment longer, then lowered his eyes, conceding the point. "Fine, then I'm sitting down first, because my leg's killing me," and with that declaration, the scientist fell against the wall to his right and literally slid down, stretching his left leg out as he did so to relieve the weight he had on it. As soon as he was down, his right leg bent beneath him, he waved a hand up to the Major, "Go on then. Dig our graves."

Sheppard snorted, then looked back at Conla.

"Conla, look, this may be hard to accept, but the Wraith can't hurt you any longer because...." he frowned, trying to think of the best way to put it...and ended up deciding on the Teyla approach—straight and to the point. "Well, because you're dead. All of you."

Conla stared at him, not blinking, obviously surprised, "What?" It was clearly not what he had been expecting.

"You're dead. It's probably been hundreds of years since you were hidden down here, if not longer. No one was able to come for you. You're all dead."

"No," Conla said, twisting his face into a scowl. "We're not dead. It's not possible."

"Yes, it is, Conla. How do you think you can be the way you are," he indicated to the ghost's appearance, "how you can imagine yourself to be monsters and scare people? If you were alive, could you do that?"

"We may not be here in body," the boy challenged, "but these are our spirits! We have learned to separate our minds from our bodies, which are asleep in the pit, safe from the Wraith...."

"But not from time," Sheppard interrupted. "There are only bones in that pit, Conla. You can't see that yourself, perhaps because you've never looked, or because you can't see it, but your bodies are gone. Maybe you did fall asleep down there, but you never woke up, and you never will.."

"Liar! If we were dead...how could I talk to you? How would I be able to be here at all?"

McKay snorted, and Sheppard gave him a look. The scientist just shrugged.

"He's got a point, Major."

Sheppard glared a second longer, then looked back at the indignant child, "Look, I don't know that answer to that, but there is a word for what you are on our planet--ghosts. Not that I necessarily believe in....I mean....what I am trying to say is...."

"We are not ghosts!"

"Then you are figments of my imagination," Sheppard snapped back, his head beating even more loudly know inside his aching skull, "or hallucinations brought on by the fungus coating these walls. All I know is that the pit we found down there held nothing but ancient bones."

Conla continued to shake his head, "It's not true. McKay sees us too! How can we be figments of both of your imaginations? Huh? Answer that!"

"Well, maybe then McKay's a figment of my imagination too, but...." he was interrupted by a sharp laugh from the doctor by his feet, but he pressed on, "The fact is, you're not alive. The Wraith can't harm you anymore."

"I don't believe you," Conla asserted, then, waving a hand around to the rest of the green mist, "We don't believe you!"

Sheppard sighed, "McKay, come on, back me up here."

"Oh, I think you're doing just fine." The scientist had closed his eyes. He didn't want to see that girl staring at him with her large, dark colored eyes.

"McKay!'

"Fine, fine," the doctor lowered his head, pressing the axe closer to his chest, "The Major is telling the truth. The pit held nothing but bones. There is nothing more for you to fear, unlike us, and particularly me, who have everything to fear, as I am now certain that I'm going to end up wandering these dark halls forever, trapped like a rat in a maze, until I'm as incorporeal as all of you. And, worse yet, with only the Major for company. A fate worse than death, I assure you."

"Lovely," Sheppard muttered, "thanks."

"You're both liars!" Conla challenged, floating up so he would be eye to eye with the major. "You're trying to trick us!"

"Trick you?" Sheppard shook his head, "into what?"

"You want to feed us to the Wraith!"

"Oh, come on," Sheppard frowned. "That's absurd!"

"Is it? You're strangers! What if you're just trying to save yourselves!"

"Because we don't do that! We would never do that!"

"How are we supposed to know that?"

"McKay has been permitted to wield the Great Axe," Brigid said softly, still looking at McKay. The scientist's eyes opened slowly, to look up at her as she looked across at Conla. "Would a liar be allowed that?"

"I don't know," Conla huffed, crossing his arms, "Maybe. The axe is really only a weapon--it could work for anyone for all we know. There is no rule that it only be wielded by the good."

Her eyes blinked ever so slowly, clearly not understanding, "But I thought it was supposed to protect us? If anyone can wield it, how can it protect us?"

Conla frowned, then shook his head, "Brigid, I don't know, but it may not...."

"Does it really matter?" another boy cut him off, and Sheppard recognized him as the one who said his mother had died of the sickness. "So they're liars. We know we're not dead, Conla. Let's just finish showing them out of here."

"It matters," Conla hissed, staring now over at McKay, "Because we're trusting him to return the Great Axe to us when he leaves. If they are liars, how can we be sure he'll do it?"

McKay bowed his head into his knees again at that, a tiny groan on his lips. Sheppard arched an eyebrow down at him.

"McKay?" he asked, curious.

"I made them a deal," the scientist sighed, "they stop trying to hurt and scare us, and they show us the way out, and I return the axe."

"Ah."

"Yes, Ah."

Sheppard frowned then, his next question to ask why the ghosts didn't just take the axe back themselves, but McKay preempted him, turning his head to stare hard at Conla.

"Look, , here's the thing. I will return your axe. I made that promise. But, whether you believe me or not, I'm not giving this axe back to you until we see daylight, and you can't take it from me because you're still not sure this thing isn't magical and might actually belong in my hands. So, seems to me we are at an impasse. At this moment, you either trust me, or try to take the axe back now, it's up to you." Stabbing the axe handle on to the floor, he used it and the wall behind him as a brace and got back to his feet with only a slight show of struggle. Once standing, he took in a deep breath, gripped the Great Axe firmly in both hands, and focused on the boy now looking up at him, "Now," he asked, lifting his chin, "what's it going to be?"

Green luminescent light flickered off the blade as Conla stared at the axe, his eyes betraying his still solid belief that the weapon was somehow enchanted. After a moment, his brow furrowed and he looked around at the others. Finally, he shook his head and turned cold eyes on McKay.

"All right. But if you're lying, and you don't put the axe down when you reach the entrance," he pointed up at Sheppard, "We will kill Major Sheppard."

The Major's eyebrows lifted, but McKay just nodded.

"Okay, works for me," he said cheerily. His false bravado deflated gratefully with the victory--he even smiled.

"Okay, works for you?" Sheppard repeated tightly. "Are you kidding?"

"I'm not going to take the axe, Major. I will leave it behind," the scientist replied, rolling his eyes a little.

"Well, yeah, sure, I know that but...."

"So, no problem. Now, shall we go?"

"But, what about...." Sheppard looked at Conla, then at the other children, but they were no longer looking at him. Conla had already started walking away, while many of the others dematerialized, except for a handful at their backs...and Brigid who still stood right next to McKay, smiling up at him and fluttering her eyelashes. McKay noticed, and swallowed convulsively.

"Can we move on now, Major?" McKay asked.

Sheppard arched an eyebrow at him, then sighed, "Fine." Shaking his head, he turned and trudged down the hall after Conla.

This time, the silence didn't bother him as much.

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TBC