Ch. 9
Please
It was inevitable. Parents were indeed pissed, and a confrontation quickly followed. John awoke for the end of it.
Poppa Beast was bellowing, shrieking and hissing to brat's daddy, and the two mothers were bristling. The rest of the clan was gathered around, watching the conflict play out as though it were a live-action soap opera.
Today on All My Monsters...
John's head swam between feeling and numbness. He observed the verbal battle royale in a detached sort of way, aware enough to know that he should be worried, but too immersed in lethargy to dredge up the energy to react. So he just watched.
The argument, already hot, was becoming over heated. Poppa Beast rose onto his hind legs, and Brat's daddy followed suit. They bellowed long and loud, clacking jaws that made a bone-jarring crunch. Another male, feet bigger, darker colored, and slightly wrinkled, stepped up to the two, clicking at each dad in turn. The two bellowed again.
Welcome to the Monster's court. All rise for Judge Behemoth...
" So what is your complaint?"
" His kid's pet bit my kid!"
" His kid tried to kill my kid's pet, and my kid!"
" Settle down or I will hold you both in contempt and rip out your throats."
It was probably about a thousand miles off to the actual conversation, but John wasn't in the right state of mind to think up something better.
The judge or tribe leader or whoever the elder dino was appeared to be a good listener. He turned his head in the direction of the one talking, and raised a claw to silence the other if they tried to interrupt. Finally, he raised both claws, and both parties fell silent. He then began bellowing, trilling, and clicking in the language John had christened ancient dolphin.
On finishing his spiel, he dropped to all fours then snaked his head down. Junior and the bully that had tried to take John's head off stepped forward. Junior was cringing, bully was bristling. Tribe leader started with Junior, and when bully tried to interrupt was silenced by a flick on the head from dad. After Junior's story, Tribe leader listened to the brat's side of things. After both sides were heard, Tribe leader trundled over to where Sheppard lay curled on a skin.
Again, John's brain prodded his body, asking it why it wasn't flooding its systems with fear-induced adrenaline. The body refused to respond. Tribe leader made the high-pitched recharge sound, stopped, then nodded. He turned to the gathered throng, bellowed, clicked, trilled, and everyone nodded assent when he finished.
Brat's daddy visibly deflated, while Poppa Beast stood a few inches taller.
Way to go, pop.
Junior, however, was still droop-eared and abashed. But John was never given the chance to reflect on it when he slipped back into sleep.
SGSGSGSGSGSG
Some pet I am. But John couldn't help that, now could he? Junior kept John in a perpetual state of numbness and lack of awareness as they traveled. It was easy since Junior's back was broad enough to hold Sheppard without him slipping off, and it was either that or incite another brat revolt every time Sheppard screamed because of a slight jolt or shift in his prone position. They had wrapped his leg, but had not splinted it, or his arm. He was pretty sure his ribs were beyond cracked to being broken. Even bound, they still hurt like hell when the drug wore off.
At least the drug wasn't addictive. As much as he liked not feeling pain, he didn't look forward to the next round of drink to be poured burning down his throat.
But it didn't feel right that he should be drugged for so long. He started waking up nauseas, but had nothing in his guts to puke. He was thirsty, and could never get enough water. Yet if he refused the medicine, then the pain became unbearable.
They left the tunnel and entered another forested valley. At this point John attempted another try at not taking the sour drink in case a second airborne raid occurred. Pain covered his skin in a single sheen of sweat, and drops tickled down his neck and sides. When they next stopped, Junior tried to give him some meat, but John couldn't even look at the stuff.
Besides nauseas, he also felt cold, even with his clothes on, and began shivering non-stop. His head throbbed, and his lungs felt heavy, which in turn started getting him into coughing fits, which angered his sides.
Infection. Goody.
John took the medicine so he at least did not have to put up with the pain. He was careful about it, trying drops rather than squeezing streams of the stuff from the rag to his mouth. It worked in that the pain lessened, but his mind still took up a misty existence.
On their next leg of the journey, John was alarmed, even from his haze, when Junior's tribe encountered another tribe. The differences in the two tribes was distinguished by their dress. Where as Junior's people wore jewels and skins, this new band of dinos wore jewels, skins, and feathers attached to the jewels and skins.
John watched tensely as the tribes' leaders conversed. It didn't take them long to talk, and once the chit-chat was over, the two groups intermingled, taking up the actions of trade. Skins were exchanged for skins, food for food, and jewels for jewels.
John dubbed the new tribe the Vulture Slayers, since the feathers were remarkably similar to the air-dwelling raiders.
Junior stayed by Momma Beast as she exchanged jewelry with a feather-decked female. The female's children were peering from behind their mother's legs at Junior and the weird creature clinging to his back. One of the kids, a male that looked to be Junior's size, tugged on one of his mother's necklaces, trilled, and pointed at Junior. Slayer-mom looked down at her boy, then at Junior and his critter. John couldn't help shrinking back some the way Junior number two was eying him with a little too much interest. Slayer mom clicked something and pointed at Junior.
" How much for that biped on your kid's back?"
Junior's fur stood on end and he shrieked.
" Like hell I'm going to sell it!"
" Watch your language, son." To Slayer-mom. " It's not for sell."
John could feel Junior's muscles ease out of their tense hold. Slayer-kid snorted derisively.
" It's ugly anyways."
After market day was complete, the journey resumed.
Teyla would have gotten a kick out of that, John thought wistfully.
Two more days of travel, and then they were there. John knew it was the dino-folk's destination when they crested a rise to see another valley stretched below them. To the right was a lake, and to the left a plateau pock-marked with many caves. The dinos trilled and bellowed in excitement, then hurried down the hill to their destination.
John let out a shuddering sigh. Now they would stop. Now he could rest.
SGSGSGSGSGSG
John wasn't getting any better. Three days of rest, and the pain was still strong, the cold biting, and the coughs just as constant. He couldn't eat, couldn't even stand the sight of food, and so his body shook from both chills and fatigue. He didn't even have the energy to interpret any more dino-chatter.
Junior seemed uncertain about what to do; him, his family, and even the old healer. They tried giving him various medicines, three of which he puked back up, and two that didn't do squat for him. One did help to clear up the coughing for a time, which he knew better than to not be grateful for. Other than that, all they could do was keep him warm and give him water.
Being blind and deaf to time, John couldn't say how long the sickness had lasted. It fell like forever, but forever could range from two minutes, two days, or two years. He wasn't getting better, but at least he wasn't getting worse. Either that or he was so used to feeling like crap that he couldn't tell the differing degrees of it.
The only change that came about was when Junior lifted John onto his back and carried him down to the lake where other Dino-folk were gathered - swimming or laying on the solid-rock shore. Junior helped John to slide carefully from his back onto the shore where John lay on his chest, facing the lapping water. Junior then pointed at the water, then pointed at John.
John narrowed his eyes at the dino-kid. " What, you saying I stink?"
Junior proceeded into the lake until the water was flank-high on him, not too far from John in case something bad went down involving more bullies.
John sighed. " Yeah, I could probably use a bath."
The super-morphine was still lingering, and the pain was stifled. He pushed himself up on his good arm and good leg, hobbling like a crippled dog closer to the water. He turned to sit with his back to the lake. The kind of bath he needed was out of the question, but he knew the cuts on his back – and everywhere else – required cleaning. He removed his vest, jacket, and shirt, setting them aside away from the water. He then paused, panting. Just taking off his shirt had almost overtaxed him. His hand shook uncontrollably as he loosened the bandage around his chest, and again was forced to rest.
This is messed up. It was a terrible understatement, but John didn't know how else to put it. He sat hunched up when the cold of the cave allied itself with the cold of sickness for one massive assault. He brought the knee of his good leg up to his chest, and wrapped his good arm around himself. He could feel his ribs with a clarity that disturbed him.
John pulled his arm away and twisted around enough to look at his face in the water. Even through the gentle rippling, John was able to make out a pale face with sunken and shadowed eyes, and stubble.
Deaths chew-toy incarnate.
John turned away when his side hurt. He wrapped his arm back around his chest despite being able to feel his own bones.
So much for a bath. Water probably would have killed me with hypothermia anyways.
Each breath entered and exited his lungs in unsteady rasps. He needed to get dressed, but had lost the will to move. He lowered his head until his forehead was touching his knee.
Hello, Death? This is John Sheppard. So when are you dropping by?
He closed his eyes.
Except I don't want to die. Not like this. But like I have a choice. I'm dead – today, tomorrow – time to come to terms. Maybe I'll go in my sleep. Or maybe I should just make it fast and let myself get stepped on.
He heard a soft clicking, so looked up. Junior was staring at him, but the childish wonder and innocent curiosity he usually held when regarding John were missing. Junior looked worried – actually, he looked sad.
Junior wasn't naïve.
John could see himself reflected in Junior's phosphorescent eyes; small, dirty, bruised, verging on emaciation... broken... weak... His throat tightened until he could barely swallow. Never a fun thing to feel - weakness, helplessness. He was pathetic, absolutely pathetic in his own sights. It made his blood run fast and hot with the anger of it. But anger was draining, and soon he didn't have the means even for that.
It didn't matter anyways. As good an owner as Junior was trying to be, there were some creatures in this universe not meant to be pets, especially creatures from other worlds. Like putting a fresh-water fish in a salt water tank, it had only been a matter of time before Sheppard physically fell to an environment that he was not meant for.
He didn't blame Junior. The kid had tried. It was the only reason John was still around this far.
Too bad. A little more time, and John might have found a way home.
Home.
John continued to hold Junior's gaze.
" It isn't possible kid. You tried, but it just isn't possible."
Junior chirped questioningly.
The tightness in John's throat extended into his chest. He was succumbing. The situation had wrapped its claws around his neck, and now squeezed.
" I want to go home," John said with a voice that cracked as he tried to dam in the emotion cascading over his heart. An unbearable itch invaded his lungs. The cough that wracked him was lung deep, painful, and body wrenching. He habitually covered his mouth as his lungs tried to discard themselves from his chest. When he pulled his hand away, he saw blood splattered on his palm, and his heart plummeted.
" Crap," he wheezed, and coughed again. When he glanced back up at Junior, moisture was brimming on the edge of the dino-kid's eyes. Then they fell. He pushed John's clothes over to him. It was time to go.
John didn't have the energy to struggle into his shirt, so just placed on his jacket and zipped it up, gathering the rest of his clothes to his chest. Junior gathered John up, but instead of placing John on his back, cradled him to his chest. He scurried back to the cave and moved fast even on three legs. Their cave wasn't as high as the last one, so it didn't take Junior as long to get home. He laid John gently on a skin near the great bonfire, covering him with a second skin.
" Thanks pal," John rasped. Junior clicked and chirped, then lightly placed his paw over John's covered form. John was shaking, bad, and he knew that Junior could feel it. Junior trilled a high sound that was distressful and the tears rolled over the scales of the kid's face. He turned, and began shrieking, clicking, and squeaking wildly -all while sobbing. Momma Beast hurried over and clicked several times.
" What's the matter, son? What is it?"
" It's dying mom, it's dying and I can't do anything, help it, help it...!"
John gave up on that particular translation. He wanted to drift off, and was about to when Junior did something that snapped enough awareness into John that he lifted his head.
Junior was carving a circle in the ground with a single claw. Then he drew stick figures in front of that circle. He pointed to John, then to the figures, then to the ring. Momma Beast's ears pricked and her glowing eyes went wide. She looked at Junior's drawing, then at John. She clicked frantically and hurried out of the cavern.
John watched it all in numb disbelief. Junior had understood him that day at the pillar when they had seen the pictures. They knew, they remembered. But, of course, Junior hadn't wanted to give up such a neat, mythical pet. Therefore, he had kept his snout shut about it.
But Junior wasn't stupid. He knew, now more than ever, that it was time to relent. His favorite pet's life was at stake.
Good owner. Great owner. John had surpassed cool pet and climbed the ranks to friend. A Friend's life was at stake.
Momma Beast returned in minutes with Poppa, Tribal healer, and Tribal leader in tow. They all gathered around Junior with their massive backs to the fire. Momma Beast trilled, and Junior launched into a fast-spewed variation of clicks, squeals, trills, and shrieks. He pointed at the ring, at the figures, and then at John. He chattered even more, pointing at John all the while. Every male adult's head jerked back in surprise. The old healer croaked and nodded, and the adults gathered together to confer.
John's heart ascended into madly rapid beats. Junior looked from each of the adults, sitting rigid enough to snap with tail lashing wildly. The healer seemed to be the most vocal, continually gesticulating in John's direction. When he finished, Tribal leader looked at Poppa Beast and clicked rapidly. Poppa Beast nodded.
Whatever was said, it got Junior up on all fours and brought a bright smile to his reptilian face. He scurried up to pop, trilled several times, and when Poppa Beast trilled back, Junior began leaping about wildly.
John dropped his suddenly heavy head back onto the quilt. " Please let it be as good as it all seemed," he mumbled, then lost consciousness.
SGSGSGSGSGSGSG
John awoke to something he couldn't quite fathom. At first, his sleep-addled brain had assumed them to be on the move again. He was on Junior's back, and in front was the massive moving legs of one of the adults. Then, as John's brain slowly cleared, new things came to light. For one thing, he was covered by a skin. For another, the only adults John saw was the one in front, two behind, and two on either side, and that was it. There were also no sledges, just a pack tied to the lead adult's back, an adult that looked a lot like Poppa Beast. They were moving fast, not quite running but taking longer strides.
The members of the party were all male and all armed to the teeth with thick skins strapped to their backs and machetes held in place with ropes around their waists. On looking behind him, John could see that Junior was armed with a small machete of his own, and John could feel the thick hide of armor beneath his hands.
John still had his things, his vest and shirt still tucked under his good arm. Yet he could not wrap his mind around the situation, and tried to recollect if he had missed something. Then the haze returned, becoming a fog, then blackening around the edges of his sight. He fell back into a deep, painful sleep.
The next he woke was to a slight nudging in his uninjured arm. On waking, he became assaulted by another fit of violent coughs, and wiped the blood from his lips. Junior was beside him, trying to hand him a soaked rag. John sucked on the rag, then squeezed it, letting the cold water trickle down his throat, cooling the burn that made it near impossible to swallow anything but cold moisture. He still couldn't eat not matter how much Junior tried to press him to.
Where ever they were going, they were going there in a hurry. When John next awoke they were on the move again, slipping through trees and over rough terrain. At one point they stopped and crouched on hearing the awful croak of the mutant vultures. When the croaks faded into the distance, they rose and started off again. John was barely aware say for the changes in the land if any. If time had been playing at being coy before, it had totally abandoned him now. It was too hard to stay awake, too hard to remain aware, and he saw no reason to try.
Everything around him might as well have been a dream. He slipped in and out so much that reality melded with his unconscious visions. At one point, with his eyes open, he thought he heard Ford's voice, then Teyla's, McKay's Dr. Weir's. He was standing in the control room of Atlantis, and McKay was pissed, ranting but in an unsteady voice. John couldn't find his own voice to ask why, so merely furrowed his brow. Then, when he turned, he saw Junior sitting on his haunches – in the control room.
" Get that thing out of here, Major!" McKay snapped. John stared at Junior, who stared back with wide, wonder-filled eyes. John saw himself reflected in those eyes. Dirty, pale, thin... weak.
" I can't," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.
" He's too big! He'll smash things!"
" He saved my life."
" Major!"
" He's saving my life."
" Major," more kindly now. John turned. McKay was no longer alone. Teyla, Ford, Beckett and Weir were standing there.
" What was it like?" McKay asked.
John smiled sadly. " I wish I could tell you."
" Can you not try?" Teyla said.
" I don't have time."
" Then make time, sir," said Ford.
" You've survived worse, lad." Beckett.
" You need to tell us, John." Dr. Weir. " You need to tell us all you've seen. Please, tell us..."
John began to tremble. " I... Junior – he – saved my life..."
John awoke, gasping in air, only to cough it back out hard. When the cough ended and the blood was wiped from his mouth, John glanced around to take in their surroundings.
Setback; there was nothing to see. Everything was dark say for a red haze and the bright glow of the Dino-folk's eyes.
John didn't have to see. He knew where he was, and so automatically looked up.
A patch of starry sky hovered over him like a stargate of natural design, dialed and ready to enter. John shook his head.
No, they're not taking me back. This is just... this is just some ceremony, maybe Junior's passage into manhood or something. This can't be..."
The adults, before ascending the incline, strapped John to Junior's back with a few strips of leather. Once secure, they took to the walls and scurried up them fast as squirrels.
Once on the surface, John lifted his head a second time, but saw nothing protruding from the ground that even resembled the gate. He lowered his head.
Thought so.
The dinos weren't done, though. They continued their trek over the flat expanse of nothing, during the night, then into the cool day with its perfect temperature. They stopped once to rest, drink, and eat, then started up again. The presence of a night and a day put a halt on time's torture. For two days they journeyed, and near the end of the second day, they broke into a run.
How do they know where they're going? But that was just one in a thousand questions John had, such as why the dinos migrated, what was that glowing yellow mineral, what had the Ancients done for the dinos that made the Ancients legend, or had the dinos revered them as something divine...?
What name had Junior given John? And what was Junior's real name?
Suddenly, the little party skidded to a halt. John lifted his head. His jaw went slack, and tears burned his eyes to trace paths in the grime caking his face.
Rising from the ground was a ring, a perfect ring.
SGSGSGSGSGSGSG
A/N: Just a little more folks... and John. Just a little more.