Strange Bedfellows

A/N: This chapter is kinda shippy. I have to admit I am not a true fan of this ship...I could just as easily go for Sheyla, but this idea was stuck in my head and I needed to get it out! There were a lot of reviews for the last chapter, so thanks! I guesss you guys liked it, lol. Thanks too to all the newbies. ;)

astrochick: Lucky for you -- this chapter is about them. I decided not to be mean!

MN Talbert: You're one to talk! You have a few nailbiters in your stories, too, ya know! :)

onescape: Wow, thats probably the nicest review I've gotten! Thanks so much!

Enorm87: The suspense, I know... but the wait is over!

johnliz4ever: Ok, here it is. LOVE your stories, btw.

sabrina: SoI do get a little ellipse-happy, lol. Thanks for the compliments.

Augusta: I do explain the Klaans' relationship to the Wraith a little later on in more detail. Until then, enjoy!

dark faith5: Mmmm...chocolate....now I'm hungry and I can't write on an empty stomach! So if I don't post the next chapter, it's all your fault! :)

Katko: Was that sarcasm?? :) Continuing...

Jen R: Sending 8 and 9

highonscifi: Yes, drill sergeant! LOL. Thanks for the motivation.

lady rosebit: Will do; you'd be shocked at how many people it was a surpise to. I thought I gave too much away.

elemental-sparky: I am evil, aren't I??? Thanks for the compliments.

Angel of Fire sg-1: LOL!!! That's too funny! Ok, after being chained to the keyboard, here it is.

Chikidee: More is here!

Espiritu: So sorry for the cliffie. (Ok, I'm not, lol) but I can empathize.

EosHeliosSelene: Ok, I didn't make them wait. See, contrary to popular belief, I'm nice!! :)

Chapter 9: Torn

The first thing he noticed was his headache. Damn, I thought I had gotten rid of that thing. As he lied on the cold stone floor, he realized that he wasn't dead. Finally, something that went my way today. You can't have headaches when you're dead, right?

John opened his eyes slowly. He had hoped the ceiling of his room in Atlantis would greet him; he had hoped it was all just one terrifically long nightmare. Hell, he would have even settled for waking up to the steady beeps of the IV machine in the infirmary, but his wish wasn't granted. He was back in the large holding cell on the Wraith Hive Ship. Fantastic.

John turned his head, spotting Elizabeth sitting on the floor several feet from him. She was looking at him -- or rather looking through him at an unseen nothing on the floor and biting her thumb nail. Her foot tapped incessantly on the floor.

Sheppard sat up, wincing as the pain in his side flared. He assumed he had broken a rib when Tiny had slammed him against the table and hoped it didn't puncture a lung. He tested it. Breathing was painless, so long as he didn't breathe deeply, but he found twisting to his left side caused him more than a little discomfort. It's times like these I really miss Beckett and those needles of his.

"Elizabeth," he tried, hoping to pull her from her trance. It was no use; she was lost deep in her thoughts.

"Liz, hey. You awake?" Nothing. He slid over in front of her and gently grabbed her hand. It seemed to do the trick; she stopped biting her hand and focused on his face. Her bleary eyes became lucid and she sat up straight as if she had just woken.

"Hey, are you okay? You had me worried there for a second," John told her. She had a confused look on her face and he wondered if she had just processed what he said.

"John, you're awake!" she exclaimed. "How long have you been up?"

"I don't know, a few minutes? Why?"

"You were out cold for--" she checked her watch "-- almost four hours now."

He checked his watch, too. It was now 21:00 hours. They had left the city just after 08:00 hours, so John guessed they had been aboard the Hive Ship for… only thirteen hours? It had felt like weeks already.

"How's your head?" she asked him, pointing to the top of his skull.

He frowned in thought, trying to remember what had happened. John touched where she had pointed, immediately grimaced, and withdrew his hand. There was blood and a large lump on his head. Yeah, that would explain the headache. I wouldn't doubt if I have concussion, too.

"What happened?" he asked.

Elizabeth quickly looked to the side, avoiding his questioning gaze. As she turned her head, a dark bruise on her upper cheekbone become visible. John noticed it immediately.

"Oh, God…" he breathed, concern flooding his eyes. He reached up and lightly brushed his thumb across the mark. She didn't pull away, but she deliberately kept her eyes from meeting his. She couldn't face him right now.

He studied her expression. She looked defeated, worn… and there was something else, something John couldn't put his finger on. She seemed… ashamed? He had known Elizabeth for months, had been through thick and thin with her, had seen her make difficult life-and-death decisions, but he had never seen her like this. This was the proudest, most dignified woman he had ever known. To see her broken like this tore at his heart.

"What did they do to you?" He fought to keep the anger from his voice. What kind of bastard could do something like this? "Liz, tell me what happened. Please..." he begged, brushing the hair from her face, titling her head up and forcing her to confront him.

She finally met his eyes with her own, and in them he saw tears. John was taken aback. Here was his superior, his friend, the single strongest person he knew… He had never seen her so visibly shaken like this.

"Jesus…" he whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace. She wordlessly put her head on his shoulder and cried, just thankful for his offer to be her support. Elizabeth felt humiliated; she had never let anyone see her emotions before. As leader of Atlantis, she simply could not afford to show weakness, yet here she was crying on the shoulder of her ranking military officer.

"Elizabeth…please, tell me…."

She pulled back from him and offered John a small appreciative smile. He returned it and wiped away her tears from her cheek with his thumb once again.

"Thanks," she managed to murmur between sniffles.

"Sure," he replied with a genuine grin. "Anytime you're stuck on a Wraith Hive Ship and need a shoulder to cry on…."

She laughed at his banter, John was pleased to see. He let her calm and compose herself and remained silent. He didn't want to press her but his eyes continued to inquire.

After several moments, she looked at him and said, "I didn't tell them anything, if that's what you worried about."

"Actually, it's not. Right now, at this very moment, I'm worried about you. So until you convince me that you're okay, all that other stuff can wait."

Elizabeth mused at the way he chose to describe essentially what was the fate of thousands of people, his included, as 'all that other stuff.' It was obvious his current priority was her and everything else was secondary. There was no getting out of this for Elizabeth Weir. "I'm fine. Thank you," she reluctantly conceded with a smile. Damn him.

"Good," he said, not entirely believing her, but he let it go. "Now tell me, Ms. Weir, where did you learn how to punch like that?" He attempted to lighten the conversation a bit to put her mind at ease.

Elizabeth smiled her first true smile since they had left Klaan. "You forget, Major, that I grew up in a military family. I had three siblings, all older brothers, and needless to say we got into some scuffles when we were children. You know: the typical pick-on-the-little-sister type of thing. I was quite the tomboy, I'll have you know." She eyeballed John for a reaction.

On his face was written mild surprise. He had no idea Elizabeth had been such a scrapper when she was little. It went a long ways to explaining her tenacity today. He allowed her to continue, enjoying hearing about the adventures of mini Elizabeth.

"Anyway," she continued, lost in thought, "it was my brothers who taught me how to fight. They were very protective, and when they found out some of the children at school were picking on me, they decided to teach me a thing or two. We would spend hours at a time in the backyard together, them laughing as I tried to take swings at them."

John watched her as she spoke. She was deep in the moment, eyes glazed over and lips curved upward in happiness. She seemed so content despite what had just happened.

Elizabeth felt his eyes on her and blinked once, bringing her out of her reverie. "Thanks for that, John. I needed it."

"Hey, I just listened," he replied, brushing off her word of appreciation. "But I'm happy to help." He only regretted that her one sanctuary from this place, her thoughts and memories, had been disrupted. He wished he could have given her that feeling of serenity for at least a little while longer.

"Anyhow," she began, eager to put this little moment of frailty behind her. "What were we talking about? Oh, right… what happened…."

"No, Liz," John interjected. As much as he wanted to know what had happened, he didn't want it to be at Elizabeth's expense. It was obvious it had caused her a great deal of pain, and he didn't want her reliving it. "You really don't have to--"

"John, it's okay. I'm fine." Noticing his skeptical glance, Elizabeth added a "really" for good measure. She took a deep breath and began.

---------Flashback---------

"You have ten seconds to decide, Dr. Weir."

Shit. Hergon had just issued her an ultimatum, and she didn't know what to do. She, the master thinker, the expert at finding solutions to outwardly unsolvable situations, was torn.

"Three seconds."

"Liz, I mean it." It was John again.

"Do not speak!" Kropol warned.

Elizabeth's head spun as voices swirled all around her. Which one should she trust?

"Don't tell them anything. Nothing, you hear me?" Major Sheppard asked her.

"Two."

"I said do not speak!" Kropol screamed angrily, pulling John's gun from his waistband and holding it above him menacingly.

"Not a goddamn thing, Elizabeth!" John warned.

"One."

"Liz, don't--"

Elizabeth watched in horror as Kropol brought down the Beretta on John's head, slamming the butt of the weapon onto the crown of his skull. The Major immediately went limp. She spotted blood beginning to trickle onto the table.

Hergon made a tisk-tisk noise with his mouth. "Quite a shame," she said condescendingly. "If he had only not spoken like he was told to…. We couldn't have him influencing your decision, now could we?"

Elizabeth's eyes remained locked on John's body. Please, let me wake up from this nightmare… she silently begged. What had John done to deserve this? What had either of them done to deserve this?

Hergon noticed her obvious concern and worry for the man lying on the table and decided to exploit it. He quickly strode up to her and planted his feet firmly in front of her own. He was a tall man and wasn't above using his height as an advantage. Leaning threateningly over her, practically in her face, he asked, "What is your decision, Dr. Weir?"

Through years of negotiations with hostile countries, this was easily the single most difficult decision she had to make, and she knew why. As a diplomat back on Earth, she bargained for weapons, technology, currency: material things. Thing that could be replaced, bought, traded for. And she had always done it on the behalf of a people whom she didn't know, who were faceless. Just a population number on some data sheet. But this… this was bargaining for someone's life… thousands of lives. Lives couldn't be replaced or bought or traded for. And this one life in particular belonged to someone she knew. Someone she liked. Someone she admired, respected, had a soft spot for even. She cherished him, she realized, for his carefree personality, for his sharp wit, and for his heart -- something she had found lacking in most military men. But he was anything but the typical G.I. Joe. Elizabeth wondered if it was ironic that the kindest person she had ever met was a member of the US military. He was different than the rest of them somehow, and Elizabeth didn't want to lose that.

She didn't know if she could do this. Her choice should be simple really. As a negotiator, she knew which option was the correct one, but as a human being… well, that complicated the matter considerably. Elizabeth knew what John wanted. He had practically screamed at her to not disclose who was Atlantis's commander in chief and who had the Ancient gene, but she wondered what he would do if he was in her shoes? Would he sacrifice her life to save others? She knew the answer was no. But she also knew he would never forgive her if she passed on the opportunity to save innocent lives in order to spare his. He would never forgive himself, either. Her mind was made: if John was to die, she would respect his last wishes. Forgive me, John…

"Dr. Weir, you have wasted enough time already. Now tell me, which of you is Atlantis's chief and which of you has the Ancient gene?" Hergon was growing impatient and that scared her. She squeezed her eyes shut, not ready for what she was about to do. In her mind she imagined the Wraith, with their terrible mouth-like apparatuses on their palms, crowding over John, feeding on him as he screamed in pain--

"Dr. Weir, you will tell me now!"

There was silence in the room, a heavy silence that pressed upon her, crushing her. She couldn't breathe. She was weak. She needed strength, so she decided to draw it from the strongest person she knew. Elizabeth glanced over at John's body and said her silent goodbyes. Then she raised her chin and locked eyes with Hergon, his intimidation tactics no longer holding sway over her. She'd be damned before she'd tell these bastards anything. "Go to hell."

There, she had done it. It was hard, but it was over. Immediately after she had uttered those three words, she felt sick. Elizabeth knew what was going to happen next, and it disgusted her. She disgusted herself. There was little consolation in knowing that it was what John would have wanted.

Hergon stood frozen, his eyes still locked on hers. Neither of them was about to back down. Suddenly his face grew a shade of crimson and his brow furrowed in rage. The calm and genial leader of the Klaan people was forever gone, replaced with a demon from the very pits of Hell itself.

Elizabeth felt the fear inside her well up once more, but it subsided when Hergon turned away from her at last. With his back now to her, she allowed herself a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, the man whipped around and hit her with a closed-fist square in the face. She stumbled back toward the wall, trying to find her balance, but he continued to advance toward her. Elizabeth found herself being driven against the wall. Hergon's hands were around her neck. They didn't squeeze, but the threat was there. "I suggest you reconsider," he pressured through clenched teeth.

"I'd rather die," she responded. And it was the truth.

"You may soon get you wish." Hergon began to squeeze slowly and Elizabeth could feel her lungs begin to burn from the lack of oxygen. He continued. Soon she experienced tunnel vision but kept her eyes fixed on Hergon, refusing to play the part of the timid, frightened woman.

Wraith Number Two noticed Elizabeth's face begin to turn blue. He placed a hand on Hergon's outstretched arm, a signal to cease his torment. The human continued, however.

It was getting bad for Elizabeth -- she could barely see and had no oxygen. She gasped, hoping it would help, but the man's hands were clenched too tightly around her neck.

The Wraith once again attempted to stop the human. "Commander Hergon, stop this at once," he rasped. But his directions were ignored as the Commander continued to choke Dr. Weir.

"Commander, now is not the time."

Finally, Hergon seemed to understand. He blinked out of his violent transfixion and released Elizabeth. Without support, she fell to the floor in a heap and laid gasping and coughing for air. Her vision soon began to clear, and she could see Hergon looming over her. As he stared at her, he looked as if he was contemplating something.

A disappointed Kropol appeared at his side and threw Elizabeth a contemptuous glance. "What about him?" he asked, pointing to the still unconscious John.

"Not yet," was the soft reply. He sounded crushed, as if he had just bean beaten on the fields of battle.

Kropol looked shocked but did not question his boss. Again, dissatisfaction registered on his face. Elizabeth was not yet cognizant enough to understand the conversation, but as she pushed herself up to her elbows, she did understand that whatever had disconcerted the Klaan must have been good for her cause.

"Take them back," the Commander ordered. He headed for the exit, but not before making one last thing clear to Elizabeth. "Do not think we are done here," he spat sinisterly, grabbing her hair in his fist and wrenching her head back. "And do not suppose for one moment that I will hesitate to kill either you or the Major in the future." He released her once more, shoving her head backward into the wall.

He stormed out, followed by Kropol. Tiny and Number Two hauled her to her feet, not even waiting for her to stand on her own power. Number Two then forced her out the door into the hall while Tiny dragged the Major's body off the table. The Wraith towed John the entire way back to the cell where they were shoved in once again, left to wonder how long their torment would last.

--------End Flashback-----------

Elizabeth finished her narration, a single tear trickling down her cheek, and waited, gauging John for his reaction. He was silent. She wasn't sure what that meant: was he upset at her for basically signing his death warrant? Oh God, he is, isn't he? Or was he simply digesting the information she had just given him? In either case, she couldn't face him right now, not without thinking about what had almost happened. Elizabeth didn't know how much longer she could do this.

John didn't know what to say. He had known the Wraith were hateful creatures and had all too recently learned that the Klaan were equally as vile, but to see fellow humans torment their own people while elsewhere others were dying by the hands of the Klaans' own allies… to see for his own eyes what they could do, what they had done, to her… it made his stomach turn. He clenched his fists in anger and frustration. He didn't know what was worse: seeing Elizabeth suffering like this or the fact that he did not -- could not -- do anything about it. What really infuriated John was that he had been in the same room the entire time. If I had just kept my goddamn mouth shut…. He had found over the years that his mouth often got him in trouble, but this time it had repercussions not for him but for someone dear to him.

Major Sheppard took a deep breath, forgetting temporarily about his cracked rib, and unclenched his fists. Pistol whipped by my own gun. Beautiful. He needed to remain calm, for both his and her sakes. But behind those eyes was one seriously pissed off individual. "Elizabeth, I'm so sorry…. I didn't think any of this would happen…."

She looked up at him finally, surprised at his response. "What? You're not angry with me?"

He was equally as stunned. John stooped down and looked into her eyes. "Angry? Why would I be angry with you?"

Elizabeth faltered. Hadn't he heard what she had just told him? "John… I practically sentenced you to death… I told them go ahead and kill you, to let the Wraith feed on you--"

"No Liz, you told them nothing. And you did exactly the right thing."

She wasn't following. "I… John, they said they were going to kill you, that they wouldn't hesitate--"

"Hey, I'm still here, aren't I?" he asked with a soft smile. "Listen to me. You did the right thing. They pressed you and they threatened you -- and me -- but you didn't give them what they wanted."

"But you almost died because of me," she rationalized, more to herself than to him. She should have figured that would have been his answer.

"But I didn't. And do you know why I think that is?"

"Why?"

"Because they want something, something that's valuable to them. This information they need is so important to them that as long as we have it, we stay alive. They need us, and don't you believe a word they say if they tell you otherwise." He didn't add that if Hergon's patience ran out, they were the Wraith's next Happy Meal. John continued. "Whatever they need you or me for is important to the lives of thousands of people. So I want you to promise me something. Promise me that no matter what they threaten to do to me, you won't give them a goddamn thing." John figured it was only a matter of time before they started to use interrogation tactics involving threatening the other person's life on a regular basis. If those threats turned out to be bluffs or not remained to be seen.

Elizabeth saw determination and defiance written on John's face. She marveled at his courage but wondered if that would be enough. John had just asked her to put his life second to thousands of others, thousands of people she hadn't even met. Could she do that? Her expression mirrored her feelings of doubt.

Major Sheppard caught her uncertainty. "Liz. Promise me." This was the way it had to be.

"I promise," she agreed reluctantly. It was the right thing to do, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Okay," he smiled. He noticed Elizabeth shivering for the cold, but he suspected it was from fear as well. Wordlessly, he slipped off his jacket, placed it over her shoulders, and sat against the wall next to her.

"What about you?" she questioned, looking skeptically at his black tee shirt.

"Nah, I'll be fine," he lied. "I was based in Antarctica, remember?" She smiled at this, something John was glad to see. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was past 22:00. "Why don't you try to get some sleep," he suggested.

She scoffed at his idea. Who could possibly sleep in this place?

"I know," he said, reading her thoughts. "Just try anyway."

She was tired, and a yawn confirmed that. "What if someone comes?"

He shrugged. "I'll stay up," he responded simply.

"All night?"

"Sure."

Elizabeth was about to offer to take a shift, but she was too tired to argue. Besides, there was something in his voice that was reassuring. There was no one in the world she trusted more than the man sitting next to her.

She let him put his arm around her shoulder, an act in any other circumstances might have earned him a half-hearted slap. She knew, however, that he was nothing but honorable in his intentions. Glad to have someone there to look after her, Elizabeth nestled into his shoulder. For the first time in the last week, she felt safe.

John smiled as he looked at the woman in his arms. He watched Elizabeth's eyes slowly close and began his nighttime watch. Maybe he would be warm tonight after all.

TBC


Ok, so you all can't kill me now: no cliffie!Be kind and review!