A/N: Thank you all for your amusing reviews and your contribution to the Save Sheppard's Wiry Hide fund. You will be receiving your Ancient gene and mug in the mail at some point in time, or not because we keep forgetting to send them. Sheppard gives his thanks, but please refrain from hugging him or he will shoot you. Give the painkillers a moment to kick in, then attack.
Ch. 7
Unreachable Salvation
Bloody hell, that's what Beckett would say. Blood freakin' hell, not again!
His back hurt, chest hurt, side hurt.
Hello pain, my old friend, or something like that. Life seemed to be holding him in some continuous loop in which he had to be in horrible agony every few days or the world might end.
Besides the pain, Sheppard also felt cold and queasy. But physical misery was as far as his awareness extended, say for the muffled thumping of his heart. He was sick of lying helpless in mental darkness, even if it was preferable to the pain. Something had happened, something bad, and he needed to pull himself together and assess the damage.
Danger... Danger, danger, danger... Glad I'm not Will Robinson or I'd shoot that robot. But he couldn't ignore the fact that there had indeed been danger. He remembered the birds, the claws, and then a truck-load of pain. But was it over?
He nursed the fear welling in his chest, speeding the drum-beat of his heart, until his drifting mentality finally relented to finding solid ground. Fear really did have its uses after all. Soon sounds penetrated the darkness, clicks, trills, and long bellowing cries. The cold clinging to John's skin soaked in to freeze his blood, and he started shivering.
It hurt - the cold - and pulled the rest of his awareness back to where it needed to be. It wasn't easy trying to peel his eye lids apart and return to reality. Pain tried to rip his brain in half the moment the yellow-tinted light of the caves pierced his eyes. He squeezed them shut and moaned out a curse, then made a second attempt.
He was in the woods, lying on his chest. He could feel the soft but dry, scaley texture of a skin beneath him, and a sharp searing sting down his back. Like the cold, that particular pain was growing more unbearable by the minute. The only good aspect of the pain was that it was driving the lingering remnant of sleep from his mind.
When he attempted to move by pushing himself up, he immediately dropped back onto his chest when his back practically erupted into metaphorical flames. He yelped out a strangled cry on falling back, clenching his fist until it shook.
" Ah... Crap! Son of a...! Stupid...!" he snarled, sucking in air through clenched teeth. After a moment the pain surpassed to a tolerable level. He took a shuddering breath, then released it with the same amount of shuddering.
" Take it slow, take it slow, take it slow..." he breathed. Rather than risk another agonizing drop to his chest, he moved his good arm around and reached up to lightly touch his back. His clothes were gone, namely his shirt, jacket, and vest – thankfully not his pants. He felt something strange lying across his back, something slick and slightly moist. When he tried to move it, the pain tried to reignite, so he stopped. It seemed that whatever it was, it was pasted to his skin.
Screw that. He lifted his head since the rest of his body was a bust, and glanced around. Everywhere he looked he saw dino-folk tending to the wounds of other dino-folk. They cleaned the cuts by spitting on rags and wiping abrasions, then covering the cuts and gashes with a strange yellow, transparent substance that was vaguely familiar to John. He looked at his hand with the same substance - now dry and hard with old blood – tied around his palms. He pulled the stuff off using his teeth, and found the cuts on his hands to be beyond scabbing to nearly, completely, healed.
John arched his eyebrows. " Oh, cool."
He set his head back on the skin, and winced again when his back burned. The cold made every muscle tight, which in turn angered the gash in his back. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and try to salvage what body heat he could, but couldn't even do that much.
He heard a soft trill and looked up to see Junior hovering over him with the most woeful look of worry on his strange face.
John met the dino-kid's gaze. " You okay, kiddo?"
Junior blinked and cocked his head to one side. He then reached out and peeled the wet, organic bandage from Sheppard's back. John braced himself, but cried out all the same when the pain flared up like a bonfire just as he had expected it to. Junior's ears went flat, and he trilled something frantically.
" Sorry! Really, really, really, sorry!"
He dropped the bandage that was discolored from so much blood. He then trotted over to a basket full of the strange miracle poultice/plant/fungus thing and pulled out a short strip. He moved back to Sheppard and gently placed the stuff over the gash in his back. The pain ebbed ever so slightly, and Sheppard relaxed as much as the cold would let him.
" Ooohhh yeah, thanks pal. That really hit the spot. Aw crap I'm cold!" He swallowed. The shivering was getting so that it was hard to breathe, he was so tense. " I'm c-cold pal. Real cold. Got my clothes?"
Junior squeaked and clacked his jaw. He leaned to the side, out of Sheppard's line of sight for a moment. When he came back into view, he was pulling something with him – another skin – which he draped over John, pulling it up to his neck. John lifted his head in surprise.
" My English rubbing off on you already?" he asked. Junior snaked his head back and blinked in confusion.
" Okay, maybe not." Obviously, his shivering had been the give-away to what he'd been trying to say. He was still shaking, but it was already beginning to diminish as his own body heat surrounded him with no place else to go. John sighed. " Thanks." Junior really was a good owner.
John was already beginning to slip back into a more comfortable oblivion when Junior squeaked several times. John's eyes snapped open to see the kid-beast with a shallow bowl cupped in his upturned palm. He set the bowl by Sheppard, but shallow as it was he couldn't reach into it. Junior, not missing a beat of John's continual dilemmas, took a small bit of thinly tanned skin between the tips of two claws and soaked it in the cup. He handed the small skin – which was about the size of a dish-cloth – over to Sheppard. He took it and lifted his head to squeeze the water into his mouth.
The liquid burned down his throat like a thousand needles jabbing the sensitive membrane of his esophagus. He gagged, choked, spluttered, then gasped, tossing the rag away as though it were poison. " What the hell!" he coughed, and kept coughing, then groaned when the burning filled his stomach.
Suddenly, within mere seconds, the throbbing sting along the wound of his back eased out of existence except for a small twinge like a reminder that it wasn't over, just temporarily stifled.
John went still as he contemplated the relief that was filling his body. Now nothing ached, and mobility was his once again, or would be if he wasn't so blasted tired. He picked the soaked rag back up, looked it over, then sniffed it. It smelled... mediciny, that was the only way he could describe it, but beneath that smell was something rather minty. It reminded him a little too much of how a dentist office sometimes smelled.
Novocain for the body, Novocain for the soul. Less then morphine but more than an Asprin. Nice. His mind was beginning to feel a little thick, but in a pleasant way. Okay, maybe more than morphine.
Junior, seemingly satisfied by Sheppard's newly acquired ease, dragged a cup over and soaked another rag. John didn't need to sniff it to know this new liquid to be water, and he actually rolled onto his side to turn his head enough so he could squeeze the water into his mouth. When he was done, he lolled back onto his chest, pointing at Junior.
" You, kid, would give Beckett a run for his money. You..." but he never finished when sleep sucker-punched him into unconsciousness.
SGSGSGSGSG
John had taken up residence on Junior's back again once they finally set off. Since days didn't exist much in the underground, there was no saying for certain how long they'd been delayed in the march, tending wounds. Junior's siblings had turned out fine say for a few nicks in their tough hides. Momma Beast had taken the worst punishment out of the rest of the family, and now walked with a slight limp, her back covered in the yellow bandages.
Cold air slipped in through Sheppard's torn clothes and he shivered, but it was a far cry from being bare-skinned. His back still hurt, but not in a way that stifled his mobility, just limited it. As long as he held perfectly still, then the gash didn't hurt at all. The yellow slime was amazing. Too bad Beckett couldn't get his hands on it.
Since John's watch had been broken in the fall, he gaged the passage of time by when the creatures stopped to eat and sleep. Meals were few and far between, probably thanks the the beasts' steady metabolism. They had dried meat, and more of that gut-wrenching plant that Sheppard refused to eat. Sometimes other foods were presented, such as a more moist, lighter colored meat that satiated John's hunger pains for a time. Another time they had a kind of gray berry that was a lot like watermelon in consistency but tasted like an orange. John's attempt at eating it had not cost him, and though it wasn't filling it had to be providing at least a few of the nutrients that he was needing.
The problem was, those were the only two digestible foods gathered. Everything else was either too tough to even chew, or came back out the moment it went down. So meals, for John, were a vicious rarity, and hunger a constant companion. He wouldn't starve any time soon, but slowly over time. He didn't even know where the digestible stuff came from.
The corner dino drug-store, he thought irritably. He didn't hold it against them, though, since they were just as clueless as to what he could eat as he was. Junior presented him with whatever they had, and if John puked it up, Junior became miserable for the rest of the meal.
Poor kid. He's trying.
After the Atilla the Hun wanna-be bird attack, little else attempted to disturb the herd. Beasts that looked to be part wolf/ part mammoth with long tusks tried to make off with the dried meat and a few kids, but being smaller than even Junior, they didn't stand much of a chance, and half were pulverized or crunched. On the second stop to rest after the attack, a horse-sized boa constrictor with red skin and front legs had eyed John a little hungrily, but was chased off by Poppa Beast. So, as far as John could tell, the only real threat was the birds, unless there was some rival dino tribe to be concerned about.
The fourth stop – which John supposed to be the fourth day – brought them in close to one of the great pillars supporting the invisible ceiling. Its height was immeasurable, but its width seemed to be about a mile long. The dino-folk set up camp along the base, and as Junior took John for a short 'walk' John was astonished to see carvings all along the rock face. They were like cave-paintings in their simplicity, and too many to count. One picture cluster showed the stick-figure dino-beings fighting off stick-figure mutant vultures, another – to John's slight discomfort – showed a massive battle between two dino tribes. Junior gazed at the pictures along with John, and so brought him in close. Then they came upon one picture that had John pulling on the leash for a closer look even with the collar tightening around his chafed throat.
John couldn't believe what he was seeing. A ring, with stick-figure people emerging from it; the Stargate. Next to that was an image of these people standing before dino-folk, and behind the people was a log-shaped drawing that John could only suppose represented a puddle jumper, but at an odd angle.
Ancients, they'd been to this place, seen these creatures, and from what John could decipher the meeting had gone off without a hitch. The next picture after the encounter was of several dino-folk giving rides to the Ancients up the cave wall and out, back to the ring.
John's heart started pounding hard and fast. He reached out and pressed his fingers into the gouges forming the ring, tracing the outline. The Ancients had been here. It wasn't just some waste-of-a-trip planet, and it made him wonder if the other supposedly void planets had held their own secret civilizations.
" Sorry Rodney," John murmured. " You were right after all."
His hand lingered on the gate drawing, a hand that began to tremble. Longing invaded his being, one so deep and painful it made the air hard to inhale and his throat constrict.
Why can't this be more than a drawing? He looked back at Junior who was watching him curiously.
Junior's not dumb, maybe...
John pointed at himself, then pointed at the stick figure Ancients. " Me, that's like me, I came out of here." He pointed to the ring. " Stargate, I came out of that, it's called a Stargate. I'm... I'm these people." He pointed at the stick figures again, then back at himself. Junior looked from John to the pictures, back to John, back to the pictures, then frowned.
John went rigid. " What? Did I gesture something wrong?"
Junior trilled uncertainly, and Sheppard didn't have the faintest idea how to translate it. Then the moment was interrupted by a loud bellow. Junior turned his head, turned back to look at Sheppard, and shrugged.
John's nodded. " Okay, we go back. But.. but, come on, ask your mom and dad about it. Show them the pictures..."
Junior gave the leash a slight tug, and Sheppard had no choice but to follow. But he kept his gaze on the ring picture for as long as he could.
Stupid drawings.
SGSGSGSGSGSG
Two more stops, then they left the valley to enter what must have been a tunnel since the ceiling was visible and they were now surrounded by walls. It was still bigger than any cave John had ever heard of, and dwarfed even the dino-folk. There were less trees, mostly strange blue shrubs and some kind of yellow fern. They kept to a shallow river that ran the opposite way of where they were heading and followed it into other tunnels that branched off.
On their second leg of journey through the tunnel, they stopped before the dark mouth of an even smaller tunnel (still massive in Sheppard's perspective). They unhitched their sledges, laid out their skins, then proceeded into the tunnel once camp was ready.
John tensed. The tunnel was musty and devoid of the yellow-tinged light emitted by the weird mineral. Inside was a faint red haze and that was all. Sheppard pulled out his knife, just in case, though the dino-folk gave no indication of being wary. Their eyes were the only source of luminescence, and a poor source at that.
Well, maybe not for them. What the hell is this place?
John hated that he had no way to tell time. It felt as though they'd been traveling the dark for hours, but knowing how time liked to play mind games, for all he knew it had only been minutes.
Then they came to it. John knew it was their destination – not because they stopped – but because it was beyond obvious, and all he had to do was look up.
They had entered a grand chamber filled with a faint, white glow. John craned his neck back to find the source of this glow, and instead found himself staring at a distant night sky and an even more distant white moon. They were beneath a chasm entrance.
John's breath caught in his throat. He released it along with a small cry of wonder.
Junior listened, he understood. They're... they're taking me back, right? They have to be, please let them be taking me back...
The creatures began ascending the steep incline, and John shook with the overwhelming need for his hope to become fact. Dino-folk moved fast when scaling a wall, and even faster when that wall wasn't perfectly vertical. As the chasm entrance grew closer, it grew wider as well. John could feel the warm, sand-blasted wind brushing his face and stinging his eyes. He took deep lung-fulls of that air, and kept his gaze fixed to the ocean of stars spilled across the endless night.
Then they were out, with nothing but sand and rocks as far as the eye could see. John sat up straight and scanned their unconfined surroundings in disbelief. The dino-folk all began moving away from the chasm, gathering several yards from the precipice. When the distance became sufficient for them they all stopped and sat back on their haunches, staring up into the velvet night with its river of stars alien only to John.
Sheppard slid from Junior's back and stared up as well. At seeing nothing, he glanced around at the gathered beasts who appeared to have frozen in their present posture. So John looked up again, and waited. Then, just when his neck began to ache, he was rewarded for his effort.
Two things occurred that would forever become ingrained in John's mind, vivid as the day he saw it. The sky came alive with thousands of falling stars like a practical rain-shower of lights. Then, as though that were not enough, something began shimmering beyond the atmosphere like veils of iridescent silver. They were reminiscent of northern lights, but brighter and bigger, nearly filling the sky from horizon to horizon.
As the light show played out, John heard something strange. It began as a low hum, but gradually grew in pitch to become a deep, reverberating, chant-like croon. It penetrated John to his very core, vibrating his bones and making his mind whirl. It was not like the mournful groan of the chasms when the wind blew. What he heard was undeniably beautiful, and filled him with a sense of deep peace, making him forget his hunger, pain, and heart-breaking longing.
Then the chant descended until it ended, though the creatures never looked away. Neither could John tear his eyes from the shower of stars and the rippling waves of shimmering silver.
If only the others could see this. That one thought, and the longing returned. He looked away when both his neck and throat forced him to by aching. He searched their surroundings once again.
He looked over his shoulder, and saw something jutting from the ground in the far distance, easily over-looked had he not done a double take. He squinted at the object obscured by shadows, and his heart scrambled into his throat.
" No way..."
It couldn't have been. They had to be miles away by now, but the shape was consistent; somewhat oval, but perspective would do that.
" Can't be the gate..."
He looked back at junior, but the kid still had his head tilted back and his nose pointed to the sky. So John crept over to where the leash was tied to Junior's wrist, and began trying to work the knot. He nearly ripped his fingernails off in the attempt. Junior really knew how to tie one wicked knot.
John moved away from Junior as far as he could go, but still wasn't close enough to know just what it was he was seeing. But he had to know, and he needed Junior to know. He needed Junior to understand that this wasn't where John belonged. John began pulling on the leash with his good hand, tugging hard, trying to get Junior's attention, but Junior was fixated on the sky.
" Come on," John murmured, jerking on the leash now. He dug the heels of his boots into the sand and pulled as hard as he could. " Come on, come on, turn around," he snarled. He felt like a dog trying to break free of its chain, and no matter how hard he pulled the chain would never relent.
" Come on, please, turn around, look..." he now begged. He wasn't speaking loud, or at least he thought he wasn't, but in his moment of desperation he had forgotten about dino-folk bat ears. Those ears, on several of the dinos, began to twitch. Then, several heads, mostly those of the young dinos, began to turn, glaring his way.
John took notice, and his blood started rushing. He jerked on the leash, pulled, jerked again, then leaned back putting all his weight into the tug.
" Please, look, just look..."
The ones observing him began clacking their jaws in irritation. One kid, a foot taller than Junior, got up onto all fours and stalked over to Junior, hissing something with mane standing on end and shoulders hunched like a bristling K-9. Junior tore his gaze from the sky to look at the ready to strike dino-boy. He then looked back at Sheppard.
Sheppard's heart did several leaps in his chest. He began pointing to the object rising from the ground, then at himself, then back at the object. " You, me, go there. Come on kid, I just need to see..."
Others began hissing, trilling, and clacking in rising anger. Junior looked around with flat-eared uncertainty. He opened his mouth, about to say something, when raised-hackles boy cut him off with a loud snarl. Junior flinched and looked back at Sheppard – apologetically.
John's spine stiffened, then he cringed. " Oh no..."
Junior gave the leash one hard pull, putting little effort into it, and John was yanked forward, momentarily airborne only to fall face-first into the sand. The impact was mainly centered on his chest, and he let out a cry when his old nemeses pain made a triumphant comeback. He rolled onto the side that hurt the least since he couldn't roll onto his back. A shadow fell over him, and he moved his eyes up to see Junior staring down with the most pitiful, heart-stricken look of sorrow John had ever seen the kid wear. His ears were laid flat, and he looked about ready to cry.
John, panting and shivering, shook his head. " I understand kid. It's my fault, I brought it on myself."
When Junior brought his snout in close to inspect John, John placed his good hand on that snout and patted it. " No grudges here."
Junior's expression didn't change, but the threat of tears had vanished. He gathered John up, and lifted him to climb onto his back. John gripped the furry mane as Junior followed the rest of the dino-folk back to the chasm. Several of the younger dinos passing by hissed and snapped at him, and Junior cringed, trilling out apologies.
" Sorry, real sorry. I'll keep it quiet next time."
" You'd better!"
" Sorry..."
" I otta break its neck!"
" Please don't, it'll be good next time."
So went John's meager interpretation, though his heart wasn't much into it. He stared at the object rising from the desert, standing like a finger pointing to the sky. But as they neared the chasm and John's perspective of it changed, he did not see the circular opening for a ring, but something solid and misshapen – a lone pillar of rock, probably the last yet to be weathered down into sand and pebbles. John's heart took a nose dive into the deepest, darkest recesses of his soul. He'd gotten Junior in trouble for nothing, and nearly killed himself for a piece of pointless rock.
They began their trek back into the underground. John looked up, taking one last peek at the sky, something he'd always considered his element above all other elements. The wave of lights had faded out, and the night was still.
John's eyes burned, and he blinked back tears before they could fall.
Home. Why can't I go home?
SGSGSGSGSGSG
A/N: (sniff) I'm sorry John... but not yet! Just a little more abuse to go, then we'll see. Yes, we'll see. Mwuhahahahahaha...! Oh, John, don't look at me like that with those blasted, sad, puppy-dog eyes...
I apologize for not loading this chapter sooner. Crap happens, then gets fixed.