Chapter 8

Brimstone

Late on the third day of being back, Rodney lay in the hospital bed. Now that he was not so confused and was physically stronger, Beckett introduced the nano-bots to heal his broken bones. It would take two or three days for them to knit his injuries as opposed to taking two or three months with casts. It was less itchy too.

They had problems programming the little devils for soft tissue repair. Even the bed could not get the little bugs to fix the right thing. After a few disastrous simulations, they put the little buggers on the back burner. For whatever reason, broken bones were easy. Carson theorized that Sheppard had unconsciously directed the bots to do the right repair work in him after the programming. Unfortunately even under Sheppard's guidance, the little sprites were no match for the retro-virus. It had practically laughed in their little faces and obliterated them. They would keep studying them though.

He could see and hear the activity around his team's beds. Beckett had toyed with the idea of putting them on life support. What was the point? Their bodies were not dying and it would not make much difference. They just laid there not doing anything except react to light or so he was told. Beckett would not let him see them yet.

He let out a sigh. Three days, his team had been in this state for three days. Beckett informed him that an undercover team was on its way to the planet. They were going as refugees. Three or four Athosians would accompany them and Halling would be amongst them. Their leader was affected as was Atlantis' head military officer. They would be gone for a while and only make contact at schedule times or if the situation warranted. He wished he could go with them or did he?

He had also heard from other sources (Radek) that the Daedalus was on its way back and would be here in less than 24 hours. Caldwell would take command of Atlantis from Major Lorne and assume the duties until Sheppard was either declared officially unfit or returned to his irascible self.

It was no secret that Weir and Caldwell were less than friends. Life on Atlantis was about to get more interesting.

He lifted his laptop from the side table carefully. He started tapping away on his mission report. He was hoping that writing it down might jog some bit of knowledge he had overlooked- so far nothing. He had to do this, so he sang to himself to get through it.

Damn, the loneliness hurt so badly. He wished he could shut it off.

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Weir smiled. He looked so normal typing away, all be it with one hand. She crossed the infirmary and could hear him half humming and half singing to himself.

Her blood ran cold.

"All around the cobblers bench; The monkey chased the weasel; The monkey thought it was all in fun; Pop goes the weasel."

He repeated it over and over.

"Rodney? What are you up to?" She approached warily.

"Oh hey Elizabeth. Just writing my mission report." He glanced at the partitioned area. "Hoped it would help but it hasn't."

Her fears calmed somewhat. It was Rodney McKay she was talking to, no one else.

"What was that tune you were just humming?" She wondered if he had even known he was doing it.

"It was just…" The blood drained from his face. "Oh God Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I didn't realize…it just popped in there."

"Rodney it's OK. No crime in reciting nursery rhymes. It just concerned me for a moment there."

"Yes, yes I suppose it would." His eyes flitted everywhere but at her. "I'll try to um…try to…"

"Rodney let it go." Weir smiled benignly and grasped his arm. "The team will be leaving in the next hour. Hopefully, they can ascertain what happened and if there is a way to fix it. Let's keep our fingers crossed."

He smiled sadly back at her when he answered, "I'll imbibe in a little superstitious nonsense this one time."

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"Training?" Incredulity tinged Sheppard's voice. "What do you mean training?"

"You need to learn how to move in your new form," responded the young priest.

"By the way, what's your name?" Sheppard asked trying to maintain a cordial tone that he did not feel.

"I am sorry, my name is Brother Mede." The young man gave a bow.

"OK Brother Mede, I have a better idea. You go to the Stargate, dial up the address I gave you, and inform them we are here. Well, sort of here." Sheppard leveled a cold glare at Mede and successfully folded his arms over his chest.

Mede had given a few instructions on movement. Since they no longer used muscles, it was all in the head. Think it and it would be done. With Sheppard's ability to manipulate Ancient devices so easily, he caught on quick.

"I am working on it. I have been sequestered to the abbey for a while now and am trying to figure out who to trust. I must be discreet. Plus, news that Chancellor Refra has guards posted at the Ancestral Ring has reached my ears. You need his permission to use it." He looked at all three of them. "I am working on it. Please believe me."

"I can't stay like this," Ronon rumbled. "It is too confining."

Sheppard had been watching him. Ronon reminded him of the bears at the zoo, the need for unending pacing and turning in circles. He could do neither. Ronon had mastered a few small moves but there was desperation in his body language. Sheppard was holding it together by a thread, so for someone like Ronon who was used to being on the run- oof. At least Sheppard had the discipline of sitting in a cockpit for hours on end, this was not that much different.

Teyla seemed to be handling this reasonably well. He knew it was a practiced exterior she was presenting. Years of leadership and negotiations were serving her well.

He wished he knew where McKay was. Not much he could do but worry. Atlantis must have sent a rescue team. If he was out there, hopefully, they found him.

The padre here had little information; he was out of the loop. Poor kid was doing his best or Sheppard hoped he was. Once again, not much he could do if the kid was stringing them along. He said he had asked about a fourth volunteer (ha ha) but no one knew what he was talking about.

Mede had found out that the Protectors used to collect them were borrowed by Refra against the High Abbot's wishes. Usually, members of the order were used to facilitate the Protectors but this time Refra's personal guard had been used. They had had complete control over the Protectors and that really bothered Sheppard. This brought in the question of freewill and the ability of these people to subvert it.

"Please oh my brothers and sister, let's get back to training," pleaded Brother Mede. "Now as I have instructed, it is all mental."

"Even though we don't have brains?" Sheppard asked dourly. He unconsciously waited for the sarcastic reply from McKay. He had left such a wide opening that Rodney would have had a retort ready. Of course, none came.

"Your souls are kept in the cubes. They project- through means beyond my limited knowledge- your perceived image. You are more than a projection. You are able to interact with the physical world."

"Yeah, I kind of noticed that when I was thrown against a tree, repeatedly," said Sheppard grimly.

Mede cringed.

Sheppard studied the room turning in a circle. He did not use his legs, but his whole body just disappeared and reappeared in the position he wanted. The room did not look like an Ancient outpost. They had one design scheme and this was not it. However, the technology could still be Ancient. Damn he hoped Rodney was safe, because he would certainly know what to do.

"Protector 14, you are learning so quickly!" Mede clapped his hands proudly.

"Sheppard. My name is Lt. Col. John Sheppard. You can call me Col. Sheppard," John stated evenly.

Teyla looked down at her feet and smirked. Ronon let out a snort.

"You have designations. You are Protector 14. She is Protector 15. He is Protector 16," replied Mede pointing to each one.

"No, I'm Col. Sheppard. She is Teyla Emmagan. He is Specialist Ronon Dex. Those are our designations." Sheppard clarified belligerently.

"But…" Mede began.

"No." Sheppard crossed his arms again. "Let's get on with this training thing."

Flustered Brother Mede continued his instruction. "You must think of where you want to be. Now Specialist Ronon Dex…"

"Dex."

Still flustered Mede nodded his head and continued again. "Now Dex…look at…Teyla?"

She gave a respectful nod.

"Look at Teyla and envision yourself standing next to her. Think of the spot you want to be and go there."

Ronon focused his attention on Teyla and the spot next to her. He disappeared in a swirl of smoke and manifested himself next to Teyla. Relief spread across his body, he could move.

"Very good Dex!" Brother Mede congratulated him. "You are progressing with each attempt."

Dex just nodded. It was a dubious honor.

Sheppard started laughing. "We're Night Crawler!"

Ronon and Teyla looked confused and a little alarmed at his behavior.

He gave a broad, arrogant smile, "I'll show you when we get back." He then gave a sharp glare to Mede.

Mede exhaled dejectedly. "Well I think you have done enough and the vessels need to be recharged."

"Recharged?" Teyla queried. "They are not self sustaining?"

"Oh no, they must be placed back into the Vestibule. It is that room right over there." He pointed to a door opposite of the entrance to the room. "Don't worry; we make sure that all vessels are maintained properly. We have never lost a Protector due to inadequate recharging."

The team exchanged wide-eyed looks of concern as Mede pressed the button on each cube. One by one Sheppard's team went back to being flotsam on a crimson sea.

The toys were put back in the box.

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A/N:OK, there may be one more update before the weekend. There may not be anymore until we see what Wilma does. Wilma is not a Betty. Thank you for all the reviews! Support all our little jack-in-the-boxes. See ya on the flip side.