Sacrifice
Chapter 7
Worner watched as Rodney McKay swayed gently back and forth, his bound arms acting like a pendulum while his toes swiveled on floor. He sighed, not wanting to be impressed by the scientist, but admiring the man nonetheless.
When McKay and Sheppard had been captured four days ago, Worner had thought that the information they sought would be an easy acquisition. After all, with Sheppard unconscious and McKay afraid for both himself and his teammate, the two men were already vulnerable. The chief interrogator had thought just a few hours with one of his men and the scientist – obviously the weaker of the two men – would be ready to talk.
And that turned out to be the problem. McKay talked, all right. He yelled. He threatened. He whimpered and whined, moaned and complained, shouted and cried. Before the physical torture began, the scientist did his best to insult Worner and his men, calling them various names, lobbing jokes about their mothers – something to do with combat boots – and generally making a verbal nuisance of himself. Then, as the beatings began, McKay switched gears, singing about bottles of beer on the wall falling down, reciting the elements forward and backwards, and citing the logical inconsistencies associated with something called Quantum Leap.
Worner had increased the physical torture, administering whippings whenever McKay refused to answer a question. That only caused the scientist to withdraw into himself, muttering incoherently. The chief interrogator changed his tactics, asking McKay about his personal self rather than the mysterious eighth symbol on the Atlantis stargate. As he had waded through McKay's resistant ramblings about neglectful, disinterested parents and an older sister who resented his intelligence, they somehow came around to the subject of Sheppard. It was on this subject that McKay became defensive, like he was protecting something….precious or sacred. Curious, Worner had decided to see Sheppard's reaction to McKay's words, and brought the Colonel in as they were questioning McKay. The results had been promising.
He would use McKay to break Sheppard. The man was near death anyway – lack of food and water, combined with his physical injuries, had eroded the scientist's endurance until he was literally hanging on by a thread. Worner knew that Sheppard was keenly aware of this – and he was hoping that by offering medical help to McKay, Sheppard would reveal the information they needed.
And they needed it soon. The Wraith had been contacted, and they were on their way. They would be here in a matter of days, wanting the information, or taking the two Atlantean men and getting it themselves. And if that happened, the agreement Worner had reached with the Wraith would be null; and the cullings would begin again.
No, Worner thought to himself. He would get the information. Any way he could.
He watched as the physician entered the interrogation room and injected McKay, and a slow smile began to spread across his face. The physician spoke to one of the guards, and McKay was dropped unceremoniously from the scaffold, sprawling on the ground in a broken heap.
"Well?" Worner asked as the physician entered the observation room, the chief interrogator's eyes still on the unconscious physicist.
"No more than four hours. But he needs to be treated immediately, Worner. Any delay and he will die for certain."
Worner remained silent, only nodding his acknowledgement. Soon he would have the information he needed, and then McKay would die anyway.
oOo
John stood as Rodney was dragged into the cell. He raced to the scientist's side, running his hands down McKay's arms, feeling for a pulse on the chafed wrists. The physicist made no response, his ashen face still and drawn. Only the slight gasps of breath reassured John that Rodney still lived.
"I have been told that your friend will not last the night," Worner said. John raised his head, his green eyes bright with tears of rage. "Our physicians have assured me, however, that if we provide medical attention now, he may yet live. The choice is yours." Worner paused, watching as John came to his feet, his stance threatening.
"In return for the information you seek, I presume," John snarled. Worner merely nodded.
"You are aware of how this works, Colonel Sheppard. Your friend's life for the eighth symbol. It's that simple." He and John stared hard at each other for a long moment, then John shook his head.
"I can't." The words were soft, filled with despair, and Worner bit back a smile. He would give the two men time; if Sheppard truly cared for McKay, he would change his mind.
Worner motioned to the guards, and once more, they left a jug of water and some bread. John ignored it, kneeling down next to Rodney, and cushioning his head with the now-tattered jacket. He didn't turn as the door banged shut.
"Shep…?" Rodney's words were air-thin, barely audible, even in the quiet of the cell. John leaned forward, one hand resting lightly on Rodney's shoulder.
"I'm here, McKay. Be quiet. You need your strength." John grimaced as the man gasped in another breath, and he noticed that Rodney's mouth was red with blood. Fear tugged at him, and silently the Colonel cursed. He propped Rodney up, leaning him against the wall, and the man's breathing became a bit easier.
"Don't ….tell…them…" Rodney wheezed. John didn't answer, just tucked his jacket around the scientist.
"Shhh…take a break, McKay." John's voice nearly broke as he spoke. He sat back and studied the scientist, appalled at his battered condition. Exhaustion overcame the physicist and Rodney fell asleep, his head drooping towards his chest. John repositioned himself, getting as close as possible to share his body warmth with the shivering scientist. Carefully, he took Rodney's head and laid it on his shoulder, hoping to give the beaten man a little comfort. Settling back, he closed his eyes, praying for help. Over and over, his mind worked the situation, knowing that he could never reveal any information regarding Earth – or Atlantis for that matter – but wanting desperately to save McKay. John knew Worner was telling the truth; Rodney didn't have much time left. And just the thought of losing the scientist made John's soul grow cold and empty. Somewhere, between the arguments and the narrow escapes, John had grown unaccustomedly close to the petulant physicist. What started out as a grudging respect had transformed into a kind of dependency. From there, the relationship between the two had progressed even further, to the rough equivalent of friends.
In the back of his mind, John knew that he really considered Rodney a brother. A pain in the ass, condescending, know-it-all, brainiac brother, but a brother, nonetheless. Rodney – and Teyla, Ronon and Elizabeth, Carson too – were now his family, and Atlantis his home. And the thought of losing one of his family – losing the one he admired and respected the most - was too devastating to contemplate.
oOo
A couple of hours later, John woke with a start. He had fallen asleep, his right hand clutching Rodney's arm.
"John." The voice was pained, merely a whisper contained in a gasp. John eased himself away from McKay, carefully lowering the injured man to the ground. McKay never called him John; it was always Colonel or Sheppard. He froze as he caught sight of Rodney's face.
He was grey. The scientist's breathing was practically non-existent, his lips were tinged with blue. Sweat streamed from Rodney's body, but as John grasped one on his hands, he gasped at the icy touch.
"Rodney? You have to hang on, okay? Ronon and Teyla will come, and we'll get you to Carson." John's words died away as Rodney's blue eyes fluttered open. Normally, they were bright with intelligence, sharp with caustic humor. Now, the scientist's gaze was cloudy and vacant.
"Didn't…tell…anything…." Rodney forced out. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and John felt his eyes well with tears. He squashed down his anguish, transferring it into rage. Letting go of Rodney's hand, he ran to the iron door, beating on it.
"Help him! Now! Please! Worner, help him!" John shouted until he was hoarse, hating himself that he was begging, but his fear at losing McKay overwhelming. A low moan brought him back to Rodney's side, dropping to his knees and gently taking the scientist's frozen hand once more.
Rodney's eyes were closed again, but he managed to blink them open, trying to focus on Sheppard. He gave the Colonel a pained smile. John remained silent, unable to speak.
"John…best…friend." Rodney's breathing became more labored, his chest straining. His eyes trained on Sheppard's tear-filled eyes.
"Not…alone….die…thanks….." In horror, John watched as Rodney's eyes lost their focus, the brilliant spark of life they always contained flickering and fading. Rodney exhaled one last breath and then was silent.
"No. No no no…. Rodney!" Tears streamed down John's face as he realized the scientist was gone. Moaning, he rocked back and forth on his knees, still clutching the cold hand. Behind him, he heard the iron door bang open, and strange hands roughly shoved him out of the way. He fell back, landing hard against the stone wall, watching as Rodney's still body was lifted on to a stretcher, then carried out the door.
Worner remained standing next to the door, his eyes never leaving Sheppard's face. The man was shattered. With a satisfied grin, Worner turned and left the room. He would leave John to wallow in his guilt and loss, then return. Hopefully, he would have a surprise for the Colonel – and the means to get the information he wanted.
TBC