Strange Bedfellows
A/N: 200+ reviews, wow!Thanks everyone. And sorry for making everyone cry, that really wasn't my intention. I really wasn't expecting that, for sure. ManyK, you are the lucky winner, the 200th reviewer! Yay! Sorry, fresh out of new cars to give away this time. :)
These next two chapters I couldn't get the way I wanted to get them, so they'll have to do. We're on the home stretch now, boys and girls. You'll find out about the Klaans' plan soon, too.
Okay, I can't write a Scottish accent, so when you're reading Beckett's lines, just read with an accent in your head, lol. I couldn't resist giving him some stuff to say. He gets more later, too. In fact, he's somewhat instrumental in... oh, damn, I've said too much. :)
madabouterangelharrypotter: Hmm... good thinking. ;) I won't say any more.
miera: Sorry if I confused you. The reason Shep didn't do that didn't have to do with his deal at all. He would have gladly broken his deal for the reasons you mentioned, imho. The reason he stayed was because if he jumped through the Gate, odds are one or even several of the Wraith or at least a bolt or two from their Stunners would have made it through the wormhole before the shield could be raised. And that would mean odds are at least one person could die or get seriously hurt, and he didn't wasnt to be the cause of that. Hope that clears things up!
JennR: You got some of it right!
Chapter 16: Found Out
Ford watched as Dr. Weir continued to softly sob on the floor in front of the Gate. Turning around, he noticed the Gate room was nearly empty now, save for the members of Sheppard's team, Beckett and his medical unit, and the few staff members in the adjacent control room. Everyone had gone back to their business; they had all given up. Aiden couldn't believe it.
"Grodin!" he yelled up to the command center.
The Brit was staring off into space, eyes seemingly fixed in the direction of the Gate, as the recent events played through his head. He wished there was more he could do. Peter's head snapped up at Lt. Ford's call.
"Grodin, I want a MALP ready for Gate travel in five minutes. Be ready with the coordinates to M4H-213," Ford ordered, not one to give up easily. He had learned that from his CO. Thinking back to half an hour ago, sitting in Dr. Weir's office, when he had been about to give up… Aiden was ashamedof himself. Had it not been for Rodney of all people, they would all be sitting on their asses, doing nothing.
Peter was taken aback by the lieutenant's sudden and bold request. Surely the man didn't think he was going back there? Intent on helping out in any way, however, the scientist did as told.
"Beckett," Ford continued, "take Dr. Weir to the infirmary, make sure she's alright. And someone get Stackhouse to prep a Jumper just in case the MALP gives us an all clear." While it was true that Dr. Weir was now technicallyback in charge of the city, it didn't mean he had to desert the major. Besides, Dr. Weir was in no shape to mount a rescue mission - especially an insane a one as this.
"Aye, lad," Dr. Beckett responded, his Scottish accent thick, "but are you sure you know what you're doing?"
Ford turned to the doctor and looked him squarely in the eye. Isn't it obvious? "Going after the major." With that he disappeared into one of the hallways.
Beckett watched the young man stormed off and his brow wrinkled in worry. The lieutenant was determined, he gave him that much, but he hoped the man wasn't getting in over his head. In any case, Carson had orders to comply with. Turning his attention to Elizabeth, he cautiously strode up the woman still on the floor. Placing his hand on her shoulder, she spoke to her in soothing tones while gently trying to ease her up at the same time.
"Up you go, love," he urged. She didn't budge. In fact, she ignored his presence completely, opting to instead continue murmuring "don't leave me" over and over to herself.
Carson frowned. Moving in front of her, he crouched down to her level and looked her in the eyes. The were filled with tears and her face was streaked with rivulets of anguish. "Oh, dear…. Come now, lass, on your feet. We've got to get you well." He pulled again at her shoulder, a little more emphatically this time.
Suddenly, Elizabeth erupted at him. "No!" she screamed. "Leave me alone!" She clutched desperately to John's jacket, not willing to part with the one piece of him she still had.
"Relax, Dr. Weir. We're just trying to help you."
"Go away!" Elizabeth pulled away from his outstretched arm, angry at him for wanting to tear her away from her place on the floor. She just wanted to be alone; couldn't he see that?
Carson motioned for several nurses to come over and assist. "Elizabeth, we're going to have to sedate you if you don't cooperate now," he warned. Once again, he tried to raise her off the floor, but this time she lashed out at him with her foot. Beckett was barely able to dodge the blow. "Quite the grumpy one… all right, have it your way…."
One of the male nurses came around behind her and restrained her while a female one moved in with a needle. Elizabeth struggled, attempting to get free, and succeeded in squirming out of the grasp of the man. Carson, however, was too fast for her. He caught her as she tried to escape, but his efforts only earned him a crushed hand as Elizabeth fought to escape.
"Ah! Bloody hell!" he yelled.
At that moment, the other nurse jabbed the needle into Elizabeth's arm and injected the contents. The effects were almost immediate; in less than thirty seconds she was out cold. In less than sixty, she was on the gurney being wheeled to the infirmary with a very annoyed Dr. Beckett in tow, clutching his hand.
Lt. Ford re-entered the Gate room and made his way up the stairs to the command center. "Grodin, where's that MALP?" he asked as he walked.
"We're just getting it ready now, Lieutenant. I've already looked up the coordinates to M4H-213, we're just awaiting your word."
"Okay, great," Ford mumbled as his mind had already moved on to the next portion of the plan. This is actually starting to come together. I can do this… just calm down like the major taught you…. Where's Rodney, I need Rodney…. "McKay! Control room! Grodin, dial it up."
Peter selected the proper coordinates and entered them into the control panel as Rodney and Teyla joined them all in the control room. Rodney couldn't suppress his feeling of hope as he positioned the MALP in front of the Stargate using the remote control. Ford's plan was a good one: get the major back while they still knew where he was. He had to be near the Gate still; they couldn't have traveled far. In fact, McKay couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't thought of it. Tactical stuff, he dismissed it as. I'll leave that to the military types.
The wormhole connected and Ford keyed his radio. "Stackhouse, you ready with that Jumper?"
"Yes, sir," was the instantaneous reply from the Jumper bay. "Jumper Two is ready to go with three Marines on board."
"Very good, Sergeant. Stand by."
"Copy that, sir."
Aiden took a deep breath. "McKay, send the MALP."
Nodding, the scientist guided the robot through the open wormhole. It completely disappeared, making a slight slurping noise as it began its journey through subspace. Several seconds later, its return signal was received on McKay's laptop.
"Receiving MALP telemetry," he announced to the others. A small crowd of scientists had gathered around him at his console and were eagerly awaiting the results of the probe. Not pleased at them invading his personal space, he shot them an irritated look, but they refused to budge, eyes still glued to the screen. "We have incoming video feed… and… oh, no…."
"What?" Ford asked as he and Teyla jockeyed for a better position. All they could see were the backs of the scientists' heads.
McKay exasperatedly picked up his laptop and moved away from the throng of people. Plopping it down on another desk nearby, he showed Ford the video. "That's what." Rodney pointed to the screen with an troubled look on his face.
Ford looked at the computer. From its position in front of the Klaan Gate, the MALP's onboard camera picked up no less than eight Wraith standing guard, all holding Stunners. And there was no sign of Sheppard. "Goddamn it, can't we catch a break once in a while?" he asked to no one in particular. This was bad. As long as the Wraith were there, they couldn't send a team through the Gate to track the major to wherever they were taking him. The Wraith would surely attack them as soon as they set foot on the planet, and a Puddle Jumper would just be blown out of the sky as soon as it materialized on the other side.
"It was a good idea, Lieutenant," Teyla offered. "Perhaps if we wait a little longer-"
"Oh, no," Rodney interrupted. "No, no, no… bad, bad, bad… this is bad, very bad…."
They all watched as one of the Wraith walked up to the MALP and aimed its Stunner at the probe. Ford cringed, silently willing the creature not to destroy the machine. If it did, there would be no way to determine if the Wraith were still covering the Gate. Worse, there was nothing they could do. The wormhole was one way;the robotcould not be sent back to Atlantis.
"Please don't shoot the MALP, please don't shoot the MALP…" Rodney muttered repeatedly.
The Wraith shot the MALP. One bolt from the Stunner and all its electrical equipment was off line. The video feed went to black and the connection to the machine was lost. They were all left staring at the blank screen, their one and only hope of finding the major.
Ford sighed. This just wasn't their day. "Cut power to the Gate," he muttered and walked away to his quarters. He needed to think.
-
Several hours later, Rodney walked into the infirmary, intent on checking in on Elizabeth. He spotted her on one of the beds, curled up on her side and facing away from him.
"How's she doing?" he asked Carson softly, not wanting to wake the patient.
The doctor put down a file he was reading. "Well, she's not asleep, if that's what you're worried about." Beckett nodded in her direction, indicating Rodney should take a look for himself.
Creeping cautiously around the corner of the bed, Rodney noticed that Elizabeth was in fact awake. She was staring at the far wall of the room and her hand curled up by her chest. McKay also noted that she still desperately clung to a dark gray and black jacket.
"Hey, Elizabeth," Rodney greeted carefully. "How're you feeling?"
"I wouldn't bother, Rodney," Carson explained grimly. "She hasn't spoken a word since she awoke. We've tried getting her to tell us what happened, but she won't utter a peep."
"Are you sure she's, you know, rational? Can she understand you?"
"As far as I can tell. I think she's just choosing not to answer us. Not that I blame the poor lass, after what she's been through…."
Rodney studied his friend on the cot. She did indeed appear in possession of her faculties but looked deep in thought, her brow furrowed in distress. The only movement was the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed and the occasional blink of her eyes. "How is she otherwise?" he asked, still scrutinizing her.
"Well, she's extremely malnourished and dehydrated, which is to be expected after being gone for a week or so. We've got an IV hooked up to her for that. She also has some cuts and bruises - some minor, some moderate, but nothing that won't heal with time. Her knee is swollen; it appears to be sprained, but other than that, we don't know. She won't tell us what's hurting her."
"What's with the jacket?" McKay asked. It seemed so out of place here in the infirmary; quite a contrast to the stark white hospital sheets and the scrubs Elizabeth had been dressed in. She had a death grip on it, so Rodney assumed it must be important to her.
Carson looked sadly at the scientist, not wanting to answer him. But he supposed he owed the man an explanation. "It was Major Sheppard's," he replied with a touch of sadness. "She had it with her when she came through the Gate and hasn't let go of it since. Almost as if it was her, I don't know...lifeline."
The two continued to watch the immobile patient. They knew, however, that beneath the docile surface was an inner turmoil they couldn't even begin to fathom. Whatever evils she had endured had clearly left their mark. Rodney suspected, however, that his friend was more distraught over the absence of Major Sheppard than her capture by the Wraith and Klanns. It had been no secret how close she and the major were. They had shared an understanding that no one else had, and it was obvious they each felt something for one another. But neither acted on their emotions, not wanting to risk the success of the expedition because of their feelings. Both had put Atlantis first and themselves second.
"Do you mind if I try, Carson?" Rodney asked, indicating his wish to speak with Elizabeth.
"No, not at all. Just don't get your hopes up, lad. I'll be in my office; call me if you need anything."
"Sure, sure." He walked over to Elizabeth and slowly sat down on an empty space of the bed. "Elizabeth… it's me, Rodney." He paused, not sure where to go from here. He was never one for motivational speeches or even comforting ones. Rodney had never been a people person, preferring instead to tinker with technology. People were too complicated. Technology was simple, technology he could understand.
"Hey, uh, listen. We need to know how you're feeling so we can fix you up, get you back on your feet. This place has been a real mess without you. Kavanagh almost blew himself up, actually. The stupid idiot nearly overloaded a naquadah generator, even though I had specifically told him…." His voice trailed off as he noticed he wasn't getting anywhere with her. Elizabeth's eyes still remained fixed on the wall. In fact, she hadn't even acknowledged his presence.
Rodney lowered his voice and cast his eyes to the floor. "Look, I know you're upset over John. We all are. But I want you to know that we'll get him back, okay? I don't know how yet, but I'll think of something. After all, I'm Answer Man, right?" Rodney smiled at the thought of his conversation with Sheppard crossed his mind. He shook the memory from his head. "Anyway… just sit tight, get some rest. Ill be back later to check up on you." Just as he had promised John.
He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before exiting the room. Had he been facing her, McKay would have seen a solitary tear fall down her cheek.
-
The journey back to the Wraith outpost seemed longer than the trip to the Stargate. Thankfully, though, the sun had set and the nighttime air provided some relief from the planet's smoldering heat. John sighed as he looked at the mixed group ahead, behind, and flanking him. Hergon was no fool; the commander had stationed most of his Wraith contingent back at the Gate, just in case Ford decided to send a rescue party. Sheppard hoped that wasn't the case. He had specifically told the lieutenant not to come back for him explicitly for this reason. He was still here, Elizabeth was home, and that was that. Nothing more could be done and he surely didn't want any of his teammates risking their lives on his account.
John didn't second guess his decision. Sure it had been hard, harder than expected even, but she was safe now. Hell, John thought with a smile, she's probably already whipping the place back into shape. She probably forgot about this entire thing by now. He knew it wasn't true though. She'd be worried about him and that was his only regret. John pictured the way she looked when she was concerned: her eyebrows drew together, lips slightly parted in apprehension, and her cheeks took on a slightly rosy color. He missed her already, he realized.
The group finally reached their destination many hours after their round trip journey had began. John couldn't wait to sit down and rest his tired feet. Plus, his ribs were killing him and the air inside the cell was nice and cool….
What the hell? he thought as they bypassed his cell and continued walking down the hallway. He had assumed they would dump him back in confinement and begin their questioning the next day. Apparently, he had been wrong. He was now being led to the all-too-familiar interrogation room.
John sat himself in the chair, not needed to be forced into it this time. He knew the drill by now. Besides, with Elizabeth gone there was no need to put up a fight. He was dead anyway; it was now only a matter of time.
Hergon walked in and closed the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, John braced himself for round four. Or is it round five? He had lost count.
"Major Sheppard. How are you feeling?" the Klaan commander asked with a smile.
"Fantastic," was the muttered reply. He couldn't believe he was going to die by the hands of this pompous ass. He had often pictured himself dying: his chopper shot down behind enemy lines, his controls failing, sending him into a flat spin, even old age if he was lucky… but being killed by an alien version of Saddam Hussein certainly hadn't crossed his mind. And to top it all off, he was being held hostage by a race with the technological savvy of the Flintstones who were in bed with an malicious race of life-sucking leeches. Beautiful.
"Well, we can soon change that," Hergon responded.
Major Sheppard continued to look at the floor, his thoughts elsewhere. He simply didn't care anymore.
Hergon noticed the man's quiet, defeated demeanor and pounced on it. Kneeling down in front of John, he asked, "What is the matter, Major? No more bravado? No more acts of defiance?" He was so going to enjoy this.
Tempted to spit out a witty retort, John bit his tongue and held back. He had no cause for defiance, no need for resistance now. His eyes remained downcast.
"What do you say we begin then, shall we? After all, it is your turn to uphold your end of the bargain. So we will start off simply: what is your name?"
John rolled his eyes. You know damn well what my name is, you fuck. He really wasn't in the mood for this, but knew Hergon was just enjoying tormenting him, playing with his mind. Sighing, he responded. "Major John Sheppard."
"And you currently reside in Atlantis, yes?"
This is going to be one hell of a long night. "Yes, Hergon, I currently reside in Atlantis," he answered in a mocking tone. It earned him a blow to the face from one of the human guards.
Hergon smiled. "I suggest you more respectful in the future, Major. Now, what is your age?"
What the hell do you care? "Thirty-six."
"What is your post in the City of the Ancients?"
"I'm the ranking military officer, in charge of all the armed forced of the city. I also head the team you met back at the village." His tone was detached, unemotional.
"And what sort of Atlantean technology can you operate?"
He shrugged. "Puddle Jumpers, various scientific instruments, stuff like that." John was intentionally vague, not wanting to give too much away about the city. In fact, he hadn't given away anything at all so far, as Hergon had already knew about the Puddle Jumpers and most likely had no idea what a scientific instrument was if it hit him in the ass.
"So virtually anything in Atlantis, correct?"
"Maybe…" he replied cautiously, wondering what Hergon's true motives behind the question were. The guard slapped across the face once more, apparently not satisfied with his answer.
"Is that a 'yes' or a 'no'?" Hergon probed, slightly annoyed.
"Yes," John answered bitterly through clenched teeth. He reached up with his bound hands to his face and found it slightly wet with blood. So what else is new…. He had more cuts and bruises than he could count. What was one more?
Hergon paused a moment in thought. "And what about Dr. Weir?"
John looked up sharply. He had certainly not expected this line of questioning and had thought Elizabeth would be left out of this now that she had been released. "What about her?"
The Klaan commander enjoyed the look of confusion and shock that registered on his captive's face. He had been waiting all day for this. He was about to catch him in a lie and would thoroughly take delight in watching him squirm. "What does she do on Atlantis?" he asked with a feigned air of nonchalance.
A bad feeling began to creep up on Sheppard. He wasn't sure where this was going but sure as hell didn't like it. "Look, I don't know what you think-" Another hit to the head cut him off.
"Answer the question, please," Hergon asked calmly.
John spit out blood on the floor and fought to regain his breath. "She's… a civilian representative… she usually just acts as our negotiator."
"That is all?"
"That's it," John replied all too quickly.
"Mmm." He pretended to ponder the thought. "Then how is it that she ordered you to return to Atlantis only several hours ago?"
A heavy silence engulfed the room. John could hear his pulse beating inside his own head and he suddenly felt very hot. Shit, my radio would have had to been on VOX, wouldn't it? Evidently, Hergon had been listening intently to his conversation with Atlantis. John had expected no less of the man. He had known that would eventually come and haunt him, but he had had no choice at the time. John remained quiet, not knowing what to say.
"I'll ask again, Major: how is it possible that a mere negotiator can order around the head of military personnel?" Hergon questioned, a smile on his face. He had Sheppard and he knew it.
"Listen, I agreed to answer any questions you had about me, but nowhere in our deal did I agree to discuss Dr. Weir or any other-" The Klaan guard hit him across the face once more and his vision began to swim. John's line sight went gray around the edges and he fought to regain focus.
Hergon spoke more rapidly. "You lied to me, Major Sheppard. You lied to me and therefore our deal is off."
Not thatyou would have upheld it anyway, John thought.
It was true; Hergon had always intended to ask about more than just Major Sheppard. It was part of the larger plan, one that involved taking Atlantis. He would relish doing so even more now that his prisoner had lied to him, simply as retribution. Perhaps he would even seek out Dr. Weir and personally kill her himself.
"That must mean Dr. Weir is the leader of Atlantis, correct?" Hergon continued.
John remained silent, determined now more than ever not to tell this bastard a damn thing. It was pointless, really; he knew Hergon now knew the truth. But as a matter of principle John wouldn't say a word.
"Correct?" Hergon asked once again, giving Sheppard one last chance. Still, the major continued to stare at the floor. "String him up," he ordered to his guards. "I have a feeling he will be more talkative tomorrow."
TBC
Cue scary music Okay, a semi-cliffie. Not so bad, right? Look, Grodin has more lines!
All of you calling for Hergon's head: just be patient! You'll see how it works out. Review:)
