TITLE: A Price Too High
AUTHOR: Wraithfodder
Copyright Disclaimer: See part 1.
SUMMARY: Sheppard must strike an agreement to free his friends, but is he ready to pay the price asked?
PART 5
God, why couldn't he just be in a wrestling match with a hungry wraith?
Sheppard had shut his eyes tightly, trying to think of anything else than what was being done with his body. He wasn't sure how people zoned out, Zenned out, left their bodies through astral projection, whatever, but he sure as hell wished he was anyplace else but there. Yet in the end, he knew that he was enduring this miserable indignity for his team and ultimately, for Atlantis. Yes, he'd survive this torture and he could get over the humiliation. No one would ever have to know what had been done. Never.
Oh crap. He could feel Hetcha's touch again, which meant... He hissed at the not-totally-unexpected sharp jab of pain. Damn, was the woman a friggin' sadist or what? Oh, wait, that was a stupid thought to entertain. At least he hadn't screamed like the last time but then that had hurt like hell and had come out of left field.
"Perhaps if you would just do as I ordered?" came a woman's silky voice from behind him.
Oh, he had a number of very good and totally unprintable responses to that remark and it wasn't the first time she'd made that order either, but he'd just had to grin and bear it. It wasn't like he was going to bleed to death from the puncture wounds. At least he sure hoped not. ZPM. Just had to repeat, ZPM. Do this and they get entry to the building with a ZPM. He just figured that if he repeated that as a mantra he could get through this.
"You don't need to close your eyes." Audran's voice. She was far too close for his liking.
"Well, it's easier this way," he admitted.
"As you wish." A pause, then he felt her lean into him again. Damn, he really wished she'd stop doing that, especially the close breathing part. "Of course, we can discuss the trade."
Sheppard cracked open one eye suspiciously. "Now?"
"It is very obvious that you are bored with Hetcha's work," Audran arched a well-plucked eyebrow meaningfully at him. "We might as well."
Sheppard decided for the sake of diplomacy not to give his honest opinion of Hetcha's 'work.' He valued his skin. He really didn't feel he was in a position – literally – to be arguing. In fact, he felt damned vulnerable, but, if it would make this nightmare end any sooner…. "Sure," he finally replied.
"McKay."
Ronon had barely spoken a word since they'd been escorted into the Raelan Sanctuary. It was similar to many houses of worship, but it also doubled as a repository of knowledge. Any visitors to the building had to be approved by the Protran, and accompanied by guards. And they'd been accompanied by a lot of guards, probably because Ronon had shot them looks of sheer murder after the guards had leaked the news on Sheppard's whereabouts.
"What?" McKay muttered. Couldn't Ronon see that he was probably half an hour away from finding an actual honest-to-god ZedPM? If they had an extra ZedPM, they could keep the gate open to Earth all the time. No more waiting for the Daedalus to show up with supplies; being able to ship back injured to intensive care units if necessary. He could go home and get a Big Mac instead of dreaming about them…
"Sheppard."
The one word – the name he'd been trying to put out of his mind for hours – pierced his concentration and he dropped the book, much to the consternation of the guard standing in front of him. "It's fine. See, binding's not broken. Fine," repeated Rodney as he pointed at the book on the table. He dashed over to the window, shoving aside Dex without thinking. The man really was heavy. No wonder the guards were in mortal fear of the man. It had been lunchtime when the guards had returned with food, as well as the news that Sheppard had secured them visiting privileges to the Sanctuary. McKay just felt the acid churn in his stomach at the news that should have elated him. All he could think of was what that 'privilege' had cost Sheppard.
He peered through the ornately stained glass window. Night had already fallen. Numerous, large oil torches illuminated the square. He could make out Sheppard's figure going across the square. The uniform was a giveaway, even if he couldn't quite make out the face in the dim light. Sheppard suddenly stopped. It was then Rodney spotted the two guards who had been accompanying him. One of them grabbed him by the arm. A discussion of some sort took place. Sheppard appeared to disagree, trying to break free, but the effort seemed … lackluster. A second later, the guards just dragged him off and to Rodney's eyes, it seemed that Sheppard looked defeated in his posture.
"This isn't good, this isn't good at all," Rodney moaned.
"We'll have to wait until morning," said Ronon.
"Excuse me?" Rodney had to stop himself from yelling, forcing his voice down to an angry whisper. "What happened to Mr. I Can't Wait Another Second so I'll Break their Heads?"
Dex simply crooked his head over his shoulder. "Eight guards here, ten more outside, and we don't know how many more are inside the main government building."
"And god knows what they're doing to Sheppard in the meantime," hissed Rodney, shooting a cautious glance at the horde of guards not far away.
"He can still walk so he's not dead," responded Ronon. "Are we done here?"
"No," came Rodney's sharp retort. "What is it with you people in this galaxy? Sheppard's being…" Rodney stopped, not even wanting to think of the actual word for what those people were probably doing to him. "Abused! His brain could be fried from the drugs, and—"
"McKay," interrupted Ronon. "He can handle it."
"Oh, and you're sure of that?" Ronon finally turned away from where he'd been staring darkly out the glazed window. "No, but I'm sure he'll survive. He's strong."
Rodney wasn't so sure. There was only so much abuse that any one person could endure. The guards at their room might have shrugged it off as though it was nothing, and maybe on this particular backwater planet maltreatment was a daily occurrence, but it wasn't elsewhere. It was bad enough that Ascended women were always trying to get their claws into Sheppard; this latest woman was so blatant in her intent it was downright frightening, and he couldn't help but think of drugs and torture. What else would needles be used for?
"We're never getting off this planet, are we?" he whispered dismally.
"We will," replied Ronon. The voice was firm and full of conviction, and for the first time since they'd entered the village, there was a slight crumb of hope.
"Find one of those ZPMs," Ronon said so low that Rodney barely heard him. "If nothing else, we can use it as a bartering chip if it comes to that."
Rodney nodded. These people were obsessed with the building and its contents, and lord knew what price they were exacting from Sheppard so that they could access it. With a determination he hadn't felt before, Rodney went back to the books, determined to find something to get them all off this hellish world.
PART 6
Rodney's head shot up quickly, the headache increasing in violent tempo from the sudden action. He grabbed at his head with both hands, letting it fall back to the pillow. Damn. The annoying knocking sound wasn't going away. All he could remember was the guards telling him it was time to leave the sanctuary and he'd protested but been given little choice but to go back to the cell. They didn't do late night hours. At least Ronon let him have the bed.
"Aren't you ever getting up?" snapped an impatient voice. Something hit him square on the back.
That woke him up. McKay rolled over on the bed and sat up, staring in disbelief at the bars of their cell, or rather, who stood on the other side. Sheppard. His clothing looked disheveled. He looked weary, but there were no bruises on his face or… McKay swallowed nervously. That particular kind of abuse wouldn't show on the face, would it?
"Colonel?" he managed weakly.
"Crap, McKay. Get yourself in gear before Audran decides she wants another piece out of my ass." Sheppard shot a wary glance down the corridor, where they couldn't see precisely what he was looking at it.
McKay blinked, his mind flooded with conflicting emotions. Okay, he had to be strong. Who knew when all the torture inflicted might just smack Sheppard and he'd crumble. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine."
Denial. Denial was one of the stages. He remembered reading that. Somewhere. He couldn't remember. Had it been in that stupid Cosmo magazine he'd found in Miko's drawer in the lab?
"And what are you looking at?" Sheppard shot an acerbic glance at Ronon, who stood right next to the bars.
"Just waiting to get out of here," replied Ronon flatly.
The two guards came down the hall, joking about something. They instantly became somber at all the dour faces staring at them. Termen unlocked the cell door, standing back quickly.
"Ronon, I know you hate being locked up but don't kill anyone because I've already sacrificed enough for this damn agreement," groused Sheppard.
McKay gathered up his equipment, following Ronon out of the cell but keeping a wary eye on Sheppard. As they proceeded down the long passageway, McKay noticed with dismay that the colonel was walking a bit stiffly, if not awkwardly. What could that woman have done to him to…? He pushed the thoughts aside. No no no, he wasn't going to think about that now; the misery people inflicted upon others was endless, even in the Pegasus Galaxy.
They rounded a corner and Sheppard stopped when they were handed back their weapons. McKay accidentally bumped into him. Sheppard hissed, pulling away. "McKay, do not touch me, okay?" He held up a finger in warning; McKay instantly nodded, horrified at this new development.
"By the way, did we get anything out of that building?" asked Sheppard.
"There's a lot of text in there that will take a while to translate," McKay finally offered.
"And a ZPM?" Sheppard sounded hopeful, and McKay was reluctant to dash that hope.
"There's definitely a power source behind a wall," he replied with a pang of regret. "If it's a ZedPM, it's severely depleted."
"Crap." Sheppard muttered. "Oh well, we can trade for fruit. They've got great fruit here," he said with a sigh.
McKay shared a worried glance with Ronon, whose face was unreadable.
Two guards, big burly types whom McKay recognized as having sucked Sheppard back into the castle the previous day, escorted them back to the gate. The trip was tedious and very quiet.
"Oh god." Sheppard's mutter of horror filtered back to him.
McKay looked past Sheppard, who had stopped, his head sagging for a moment before he held it back up. A woman was standing near the DHD. She was pretty, dressed in long flowing green robes that just touched the tops of her black boots. She had thick auburn hair and an intense expression that was a bit unsettling.
"Audran," Sheppard forced the name out of his mouth. "Come to see me off?"
McKay's mouth almost fell open. That was Protran Audran?
"Yes, John." The woman practically sidled up to invade his personal space. Somehow, Sheppard seemed to manage not to recoil in horror. "I wish to thank for your services," she said, holding on to one of his arms.
McKay wondered how Sheppard didn't throw up at that tasteless description of what the woman had no doubt done to him. Instead, the colonel just managed a tired smile that didn't even reach his eyes. "Oh yeah, it was a pleasure," he remarked dryly. "Next time, just ask."
"Our agreement should preclude any more 'next times,'" she said with a knowing smile.
Now McKay wanted to throw up. Ronon just held his arms crossed firmly against his chest, probably to stop himself from shooting the woman. After all, he had promised Sheppard that he wouldn't commit any acts of violence.
Both Sheppard and Audran continued the bizarre conversation for another minute, as if they were discussing the weather or what to have for dinner. He caught enough of the gist of it to know that she had been inflicting this vileness on men for over two years now, but something Sheppard had arranged would put a stop to it.
McKay looked around. The guards seemed totally blasé about what was going on, as if sending off tortured prisoners was a daily occurrence. Maybe it was on this godforsaken world. He didn't catch the tail end of what was said, but Audran simply stood up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. The final cruel insult, as far as McKay was concerned, but Sheppard just smiled amiably as the woman who, along with what were obviously two of her consorts or henchpeople who had been loitering nearby, got into a wagon and left.
"McKay, dial us out of here," ordered Sheppard. McKay darted over to the DHD as Sheppard wiped his hand against his cheek. "Great," the colonel muttered. "Oh, what the hell, she probably gave me God knows what diseases last night anyway."
McKay stopped dialing, horrified at hearing that dreadful remark. Sheppard looked up, frowning. "What? McKay, we're not staying here all day. Oh wait." A lanky teenager boy in tan clothing ran up them with a large burlap type bag. "Your fruit, colonel."
"Thanks," he told the teenager. "Ronon," Sheppard motioned at the bag. The Satedan picked up the heavy bag. The boy ran off. Sheppard stared at the bag for a moment. "You know, this fruit is really pretty good."
McKay stared at the DHD, his mind utterly paralyzed for a brief second. He'd totally lost his place at Sheppard's casual treatment of the events of the evening before. This was completely beyond denial. Would the next step be Sheppard falling into some kind of catatonic state?
"McKay," drawled Sheppard. "I'm going to drop dead if you stand there all day."
"Yes, dialing, dialing," McKay muttered quickly under his breath. He dialed, as fast as he'd ever dialed in his life, watching as the guards left them. The damned Protran had gotten what she wanted, so why hang around?
A moment later they stepped through the gate, back into the vast control room on Atlantis. "Finally," muttered Sheppard. "I'm beat."
McKay could read between the lines on that remark. He looked around. Thank god Teyla wasn't back from the mainland yet. This wasn't the kind of stuff discussed with women, at least not that he knew of, unless they were doctors and even then… "Why don't we go to the infirmary?" he suggested calmly, gently grabbing Sheppard's arm.
"I'm going to take a hot shower first," said Sheppard.
"You know Beckett," said McKay quickly. "He'll blow a gasket if you don't go there first." He tugged and abruptly, Ronon took Sheppard by the other arm and tugged him in the opposite direction. "He can do what he wants."
With a quick yank, Sheppard pulled his arms away from both men. "He is not a damn wishbone!" He glared at both men, oblivious to the stares directed at him from the security personnel around the gate. "What is it with you two? Sheesh, I'm the one hammering out the agreement while you two just get to hang around a plush jail cell and stuff your faces. I'm not—" Sheppard suddenly let loose a massive sneeze. "Oh damn, okay. Guess I'll go to the infirmary," he remarked, almost as an afterthought, and just left.
McKay and Ronon stared at each other. McKay nearly jumped out of his boots when Weir came up beside him.
"Am I missing something?" She looked at the bag Ronon had by his side.
"Fruit," he remarked, handing the bag over to a guard who came over.
"Glad to see the mission went well," Weir said. Her smile faltered as she took in McKay's worried face. "Rodney, is something wrong?" She looked over her shoulder to where Sheppard had vanished down the hall. "Is the colonel all right?"
"Probably caught a cold," Ronon said, breaking the silence.
"Well, if he caught some virus…" She took a cautious step back. "You two might have been exposed as well. Go down and have Carson check you out. We don't need any flu epidemics on Atlantis." She arched an eyebrow meaningfully and went back to her office.
To Be Continued