Canon characters are not mine, just taking them out to play.
Story line and unfamiliar characters are mine, however, and I am an extremely possessive person.
Respectful feedback welcomed, encouraged, and craved.
Metallica explanation-- Each of my stories has a soundtrack, songs that I listen to while writing certain chapters. Some of my stories come when I read to the words of particularly angsty music, occasionally the lyrics becoming the chapter titles. The first five are from Enter Sandman, for those who didn't know.
Take my hand.
Nellek leaned close to the monitor. The viewing room was dimly lit to maximize the quality of the picture. He watched, mesmerized, as the two subjects dozed, sitting shoulder to shoulder in the cell. His stomach growled making him wonder when he last ate. He knew he hadn't slept during his normal sleep cycle. Being assigned to 517 was too exciting to waste even a few moments on sleep.
He depressed the blue button on the wrap-around control console. "Kiersa, have you interpreted the readings from the training session yet?"
Kiersa's voice echoed through the speaker, "Not yet, Nellek. I'll bring them as soon as I am finished. Will you be in the viewing room?"
"Yes. I am going to observe the first feeding." He released the button, then pressed it again, "Zemi, send sustenance to Subject 517 and guest. Thank you." He released it again without waiting for a reply. He didn't need to wait, everyone in the complex knew he had been commissioned by Master Tomar himself. He leaned back in the chair, looking down at his stomach as it growled again.
Nellek was munching his own breakfast by the time Zemi brought the food. He raised a dim light in the cell after the trays were slid through the slot at the bottom of the door. It was enough the rouse the round one, who gently laid 517 on the floor to go investigate the food. He was quite loud, very vocal about everything, shouting something about poisoning. He stuck a finger pale gruel, looking to the ceiling to comment that sustenance tasted like paste. A sip of the water brought an appalled expression and that the water was too warm to be palatable. Nellek sighed, turning off the monitor's sound.
517 woke to the other's loud utterances. He seemed disoriented at first, a common side effect of the early stages of training. The round one helped him to sit then brought the food. They chatted, the round one seemed to fuss over 517 quite a bit. A hand on his forehead, the insisted drinking of the water, even the eating of the food was forced.
Nellek pulled out the hand device, peering at the readings. Data from the training module implanted in the back of the subject's neck supplied information on the health of 517. The influencing drug had diffused through his system as it should. The fever had just broken and he was able to consume a little of the food. He hadn't moved much, only when necessary.
Kiersa quietly entered the observation room. She had grabbed a breakfast of fresh fruit on her way to bring Nellek the results of the primary training session. She watched him from the door for a moment. He seemed infatuated with this subject. Why? What made this one so special? Maybe it was being commissioned by Master Tomar that was making this so important. It was an honor to work for Master Tomar himself. Clearing her throat, she crossed to Nellek. "It seems that the suggestion solution was metabolized so quickly it didn't have a chance to be effective," she informed him, pulling a chair from against the wall to sit next to him.
"Shh," he whispered, not taking his eyes from the screen. "Just watch them..." They watched the two subjects in silence. The round one brought 517 the other cup of water, unbidden. Then the two sat shoulder to shoulder, talking quietly. 517 wrapped his arms around himself, shivering enough to be visible, finally stretching out on the floor. "See? They depend on each other. Discretely, of course, but never the less they are a strength to each other." Nellek turned to Kiersa so swiftly she nearly jumped back. "I think I have a plan. I am going to inform Master Tomar and see if he would like to proceed with such a drastic method." He activated the personal comms to Master Tomar.
Kiersa continued to observe 517 and the other. The way they spoke to each other, their body language, the dependency on each other. She had an idea of Nellek's training plan, almost feeling sorry for 517.
A A A A A A
John sighed heavily, "I don't know what they want. They didn't ask me any questions, just kept trying to get me to say that I'm 517." He lay on his belly, cheek resting on clasped hands. All the surfaces felt warm but he found the floor to be warmer than the walls so he kept as much of his body as he could contact with it. Rodney had been asking him in various ways, what had happened, what they wanted, did he have a plan of getting them out. John was finding that the more time passed the more he couldn't remember the details of what went on after waking up the the Bahtron version of a medical bay.
Rodney had watched the major like a hawk since he finally woke from the fevered sleep. That man was their best hope of getting out of this place alive and Rodney was going to have to take it on himself to make sure John stayed well enough to do it when the opportunity presented itself.
"But you're feeling okay now, right?" He fidgeted with his fingers, almost afraid of the answer to that question.
"Yeah, fine... kinda tired, but fine," John replied thoughtfully. Half truth but truth, none the less. His muscles ached, temples throbbed, stomach wasn't holding onto that awful tasting food... but he wasn't in stabbing pain, like before.
"So what do we do?"
John tilted his head to see Rodney out of the corner of his eye. The man was obviously frightened. Who wouldn't be, faced with pain and brainwashing and slavery and... He took a deep breath, not sure what to say that would calm the scientist. He wasn't sure how to get them out and he had a feeling Nellek wouldn't stay away too long. That creep seemed to enjoy torturing him, like a cat playing with the mouse before it eats it. He finally answered, his voice quiet, "Just wait."
Rodney huffed, rolling his gaze to the ceiling, then back to John. "That cannot be the only thing your shoot-first nuke-em-all military-trained mind can come up with." He was sorry the instant the words left his mouth but, faced with certain doom, he couldn't help but turn on the only form of defense he had. His face fell when he saw the major at a loss for words. He was asking a lot of him, knowing the man had a foreign device implanted in his head, that caused him pain at the whim of some psycho self-proclaimed trainer. What was that anyway? Trainer? Trainer of what-- dogs, elephants, monkeys? Not people. People aren't trainable, are they? What about potty training? Or chew with your mouth closed? Or...
"McKay?"
The strained whisper brought Rodney out of his reverie. He blinked, looking at Major Sheppard. Rodney blinked again trying to process the look on John's face. He had pushed himself to sitting on his heels, hands resting on his thighs. His body was trembling, his eyes wide, lips pressed together. Major Sheppard was scared.
"What?" Rodney asked, instantly coming to his side. His hands opened and closed uselessly. He brought the left to rest on John's back to give a small show of support.
John spoke through grit teeth, "S-something's happening..." He raised a hand to grip the back of his neck so hard his finger nails were white.
"Let me see." Rodney pried at his hand when the major didn't respond. "Let me see," he insisted.
John braced both hands on the floor in front of his knees, letting Rodney see the torture device. It had started as an icy tingle, that spread inward from the device, into his head and down his neck. He had tried to get Rodney's attention but the man was off in daydream land. When the ice turned to fire, he was able to make enough noise to pull the scientist back to reality. By then his brain felt as if it were roasting in his skull, his eyes watered, his breath was coming in shallow gasps, he felt as if fire were erupting from his ears. He could only knot his hand in the front of Rodney's shirt and pray it would end soon.
Rodney was scared. John trembled under his hands, gripping his shirt like it was a lifeline. His eyes glazed over, his mouth hung open slightly as if he couldn't get enough air, sweat dripped from his forehead leaving tiny pools on the floor. Rodney saw the light in the center of the device on the back of Major Sheppard's neck blink red, intensifying his symptoms. After what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes, the light faded to a blue strobe then stop all together, releasing the major to slump sideways to the floor.
The sudden relaxing of his friend made Rodney's heart seize in his chest. He pushed the collapsed major onto his back, hand around his neck to feel for a pulse. Finding a strong beat, he dropped his forehead to Sheppard's chest in relief. "Oh my god, you scared the hell out of me," he breathed. What now? He raised his eyes to the door, shouting, "What the hell now? ...What do you want, you bastards? ...You're cowards, all of you." His voice lost strength with each outburst. "You bastards," he finally whispered, eyes on Major Sheppard. He sat back against the wall, forearms resting on upraised knees.
A sharp gasp brought Rodney's attention to John's glassy eyes staring up at ceiling. "Rodney," he whispered.
Rodney rolled onto his knees to meet John's confused gaze. "Yeah?"
John swallowed. He couldn't think. "Uhm, ..." Slow blink. "My brain... 's melted."
Rodney kept a straight face as he scurried around to lift the major into a seated position, "That happened a long time ago, major. Probably all those frat parties..."
A raced knife through John's body, culminating in his gut. He cried out, making Rodney drop him back to the floor where he curled around the hurt. Eyes pinched shut, ears deaf, his senses overloading.
Rodney jumped away from the major, afraid he had hurt him trying to move him. "What? Major, what?"
Another stab, this time through his head, temple to temple. He swallowed hard trying not to yell. He could vaguely hear Rodney calling to him, each time the pain increasing. Everything around him dissolved to a pinpoint of light, the world imploded on him, driving the air from his lungs. At the center of the upheaval was Rodney's voice.
Rodney panicked at the conniption that reduced Major Sheppard to a trembling knot. He tried to get him to tell what was happening but he only got worse, so bad he couldn't speak. "Major, please, you have to tell me what's happening," he pleaded.
John formed the words in his mind before he could utter them aloud, inside screaming 'shutupmckay,shutupmckay,shutupmckay.' Finally, it crawled past the hurt and erupted into the room. "Shut up, McKay," he cried, head held firmly between his hands to keep it from falling off and rolling across the room.
Rodney sat back, mouth shut, eyes wide. He couldn't look away as the major's pain seemed to stop, breathing still coming in hitched gulps but his muscles going slack.
John's body started to relax, allowing him to uncurl slightly. He felt as if he were waking from a dream. Never, in his wildest daydreams, could he have thought of such pain. Coming a little more aware, he slowed his breathing and, eventually, opened his eyes. A dull throbbing settled behind his eyes, pulsing dark patches marred his vision, but the pain was otherwise gone.
Rodney watched, arms wrapped tightly around his chest, as Major Sheppard struggled to come back to himself. What the hell happened? Was this a new torture? Should he speak at all? Was it his voice or just certain words or phrases that set the major off? Did it pertain to Rodney at all? Maybe they were close, watching, using some sort of remote. He roamed the room with his eyes, looking for anything that could be a camera or... two way mirror...
Rodney stood, glancing down at Major Sheppard, who was still struggling into coherence. He walked the room, touching the walls at seams and rivets. Pressing his face against the wall to the left of the door, getting a crosswise view of it, he was able to see a six inch square section that was slightly off color. 'Hmm, could be a camera or viewing portal...' looked down to gauge the height, about seven feet up the wall, 'No, can't be a window, too high off the floor.' He reached to touch it, felt like glass. 'Camera then.'
"I don't think it was me." He kept his statement quiet, returning to Major Sheppard's side. He didn't miss the unconscious recoiling reaction to his voice.
John couldn't suppress the startle reflex when Rodney spoke. He pushed himself to sit against the wall, arms wrapped around his middle, head tilted back. He watched Rodney as he scooted closer.
"I think they're turning it on by remote control." It was barely a whisper. He motioned to the hidden porthole. "I found where a camera could be watching us."
John's face twitched but he felt no pain from Rodney's voice. "So they don't even have to be in the room for this thing to go off?" Dread and fear raised up in him. An invisible attack, complete surprise, no way to see it coming or predict the timing. He drew a shaky breath, closing his eyes against the raging feelings. Blowing it out hard, he tightened his features against the anxiety, turned to Rodney, "We gotta get outta here."
"How?" Rodney couldn't meet his friend's eyes, knew the fear that was being barely held in check. Now it was his turn to be the optimist. "Teyla got back to Atlantis. Lizabeth will send a rescue team... I know she will." He studied his hands. "You just have to hang on, major."
Pain hit John again. Like doing a cannon ball in the Ross Sea buck naked, the air was driven from his lungs. He collapsed onto his face, trying to scream, to breathe but couldn't.
Rodney jerked to his knees, shouting toward the door, resting his hands on the major's back, "Come on... Stop this... God..." He watched helplessly, as John twitched and writhed in agony.
A A A A A A
Nellek turned from the monitor to grin at Kiersa. "See? 517 will accept his new life very soon."
Kiersa chewed her lip. "I know this is the fastest way to bring a subject into submission but it is also the controversial. It could damage him beyond our ability to repair, it could kill him..."
Nellek shook his head, interrupting her, "Look at him. He is emotionally very strong. Using his friend to ultimately undo his grip on self-awareness will be the only thing that works..." He looked back to the screen, where 517 was curled on the floor, screaming from the pain his own name was inflicting. "This will work... It has to work."
A A A A A ALt Ford could see by the downcast look on Teyla's face that the news wasn't good. She strode back to the group, features almost sorrowful. As she drew near the cluster of team mates, she drew her her shoulders back and squared her jaw. He knew she was slipping back into capable warrior mode.
"Tomar turned to collecting people about five seasons ago," she told Ford.
"So this something fairly new. What, a year or so." Ford exchanged a glance with Bates. "Why the sudden interest?"
Teyla sighed, looking at the ground before meeting Aiden's gaze, as if to choose the wording of her response. "It is rumored that he found a device, with strange writings." From the corner of her eye she saw Dr Beckett shaking his head, turning half away, lifting a hand to his forehead. "He taught himself to read these writings. Since then he has been very bold in abducting certain visitors to the planet." She turned to face the doctor. "All are found dead within a few days of disappearing."
Sorry for such a long wait, real life and all... Hope I didn't disappoint.