AN: Thanks, so much, yes, I feel the love (and am thoroughly thankful). The good news (at least for me), is it's almost over, one or two more to go. So, thank you for hanging in with me. I thought it'd be a faster work than this but almost there. Kylen, I didn't plug you out of anything more than sheer admiration (but then again, you know that, cause I keep telling you that and I'll keep doing it forever...so there). I'm evil that way. Okay, one final note, the huge massive adoring thanks to my betas and hand holders; Kylen, shelly, gaffer and Linzi! I tweak and adjust and work on suggestions after they've sent edits back, so I'm completely to blame for any remaining mistakes and goofs.

Chapter Ten

The administrator climbed off John, and blasted the doctor, "You're a fool, and what's worse, your actions may be the end of us all."

Ronon had been standing next to John when Groton had sent Gadmere to the ground taking Sheppard down with him, and he now pulled John to his feet. The tugging on his shoulder only made the soreness from all the previous yanks remind him just how much he was tired of being in the same position. "Ouch," he muttered, rubbing the tender spot.

"You'll live."

John had an idea that Ronon had smiled at him, but he couldn't prove it. Before he could tell the Satedan that he'd live, too, after all that extra therapy Beckett was going to pile on him, Ronon said, "The Doc here's getting close to -"

Before Ronon could finish his warning, John heard the sound of flesh meeting flesh, and knew that the doctor had given Gadmere another solid hit. Before he could tell Groton to knock it off, he was jerked, again on the same arm, by Ronon pulling him out of the way, and Gadmere went to the ground by his feet, having gotten up only moments before. Groton was right next to John, and he could hear the rapid angry breaths coming from the man. "If you had one ounce of leadership in your body, of kindness – of humanity, you would've done the right thing years ago. My father tried to convince you of the folly in isolation, but you wouldn't listen."

There were deep undercurrents, and Sheppard suddenly knew this was a lot more than just a dissident escaping a regime he disagreed with. The next words solidified his hunch. "Instead of listening, or even tabling it for discussion, you had my father murdered. Sentenced for treason, when all he did, was question your precious policy."

John stuck his hand out, stopping Groton from going any further towards Gadmere. "This isn't the time for revenge," he reminded the Nokomisian.

"Who said anything about revenge?" Groton asked acidly. "I want justice."

Groton surged forward, and John went forward with him, until Ronon got both of them pulled back, and god damn it, his arm was killing him.

"It's done, Groton," evenly, John pushed him harder away from Gadmere, and now that he had Ronon's bulk behind him, it worked. He'd never realized how big the doctor was because he'd never seen the man. "It's over."

He felt Groton relax under his hands, and take a step away. "It'll never be over," the doctor said, but his voice was deflated. "As long as he lives, it'll never be over. But I'll let him live, and he'll know that we did it. We got away from him, and he'll spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, in fear of what might be. He never believed it'd end any other way if we did go to the surface. Those fears will be his companion, his friend, his only lover, and those fears will eat at him and destroy what pitiful soul he has left."

When Groton finally walked away, footsteps fading to the left, John wasn't sure how Gadmere had reacted, but he'd imagine the administrator was feeling a little pale after that speech. The thing that struck John the most was that Groton was probably right. Gadmere was convinced that going to the surface, that anyone getting out, would bring the Wraith down upon them. And those final words from Groton had exposed a deep hatred that he'd never seen coming. Obviously. Things like that were in the eyes. In the face. You can't hear hate.

John shoved the morbid thoughts to the side. "Tie them up," he ordered, not forgetting the security chief. "Let's get this escape on the road. Assuming Rodney's surprises keep them busy, we're still running against a clock."

As Ronon pulled his hand off of him, and began to secure the hostages, both of whom protested vociferously, John forced himself to step towards Teyla. He wasn't exactly sure where she was because he'd lost some of his sense of direction in the earlier fall. "Teyla?" he called, taking a few tentative strides.

His arm was touched. "I'm here," she said.

He tried to focus on where her face would be. "How many refugees are we talking," he asked quietly. If there were too many, it could threaten their own escape.

"Fifty," she replied. "Maybe more, but not much."

That was more than he'd wanted, but less than he'd thought. There was a commotion to his right, and John turned, trying to figure out what the sounds were telling him.

"The security chief does not want to be restrained," explained Teyla.

John frowned towards the noise; so much for trying to figure it out on his own, he thought ruefully. "Ronon, take care of him," he grunted, knowing the last thing they needed was a hostage escaping and running off to tell what was happening.

The security chief's shouted protests ended with an abruptness that left John cold. "You didn't -" John asked, wondering just what Ronon had done to get the guy to shut up that fast.

"I knocked him out," Ronon said, amused, knowing full well what Sheppard had thought. "He'll be out for a while."

"The torch, where is the damn cutting torch!" shouted McKay. His voice was distant, and John realized that they must've been standing close to the street, while Rodney had ventured off to find the right location to begin cutting. Keeping a mental compass had been important, and in front was always north, which put Rodney to his west, and the street to his immediate east. Usually, left and right were enough, but out in the open he needed the references for the entire circumference of area around him.

"Here," Groton called. "Are you going to be able to use it?"

Groton's question was earnest, if a little skeptical, but even as the doctor finished talking, John's forehead raised. Sure enough, Rodney didn't let him down. "I shut down the air supply to your entire underground city," he snapped irritably, offended at the doubt. "I think I can handle a blowtorch."

Shaking his head, John guessed some things never changed. "He meant your hand, Rodney. Not your brain, though I'm beginning to wonder -"

"Oh," there was an embarrassed pause, and Sheppard could imagine the awkward expression on McKay's face. "I knew that."

Ronon sounded downright annoyed when he asked, "Yes or no, McKay?"

"Yes," Rodney retorted. "If I couldn't, do you think I'd be holding it?" John heard a soft puff from gas igniting. "People think I'd actually hold a potentially disfiguring tool if I didn't think I could manage using it. I've got the IQ of a genius, seriously. It's not like I go out of my way -"

The torch sounded like rushing wind through a small tunnel. "Get cutting, quit talking," John shouted. At the same time, he tugged at Teyla's sleeve. "Round up the refugees. When he gets that wall open, we've got to move." He didn't wait to hear what she said, he knew she'd do it. "Groton, what's on the other side of that panel?"

The doctor did something, John couldn't make out the sounds for sure, but it sounded like he'd unfolded paper. John waited, listening, for what the man had to say. Moments later, the distinctive sound of ruffling paper grew louder, and he knew Groton was coming towards him.

"I know you can't see this, Colonel, but your friend Teyla can." The noise stopped and Groton continued. "This airshaft is more than just an old ventilation route. It was one of the original access tunnels, and that is, in fact, a lift on the other side of that metal panel." There was renewed crinkling and John figured Groton was either folding it back up, or unfolding it more.

"How old are we talking?" asked John.

"It stopped being maintained when the renovations to seal us off from the surface began, over a hundred years ago."

John winced, because that was a long time for technology to sit. At least, technology that wasn't created by the Ancients. Still, he figured that if anyone could get it working, McKay could.

"Is that bad?" Ronon asked.

John tilted his head in the direction the runner's voice came from. He was still over where he'd sent the security chief into dreamland. Despite the chief being out for the count, and Gadmere restrained, Sheppard felt the nervous edge of disaster waiting to happen, and it was more than the fact that his blindness added to the anxiety. "Not good," he answered tightly.

"But Atlantis is much older, and the city runs smoothly," puzzled Teyla.

"Comparing the Ancients technology to the Nokomisians, is like comparing a chimpanzee using a stick for digging in trees and man flying in spaceships," cracked McKay.

There was a sudden yelp and John panicked a little. "McKay?"

"Fine!" Rodney answered quickly. "Just…dropped an edge. It's almost done."

As Rodney finished cutting the doorway, John could smell the super-heated metal as it gave way under the intense heat of the flame.

"Don't do this, John." Gadmere called. "Even if you make it into the shaft, it is perilous, and you might find yourself injured to the point of dying this time. Or even your friends."

"You were going to kill me for looking at files," Ronon stated. His words were straightforward but there was the underlying threat that promised Ronon hadn't forgotten.

Bottom line, though, the big guy had a point. "You remember what you told me?" John asked in Gadmere's direction.

The administrator had a level of apprehension when he replied, and John figured the man had a right to be worried. "Which time?"

Sheppard reached for Teyla's arm. McKay had to be about ready to go. "Pick one," he said, his voice harsh. "But to further clarify, it boiled down to 'you will never leave this city'."

Teyla took his arm, and they began walking towards the sound of whipping flames. He heard Ronon's footsteps drop in next to their own, and knew he was now flanked. Out the side of his mouth, he asked, "Where's Groton and the others?"

"In front of us, little to the left," whispered Ronon. He'd never heard Ronon whisper before, so it was a little comical when the runner did it. And also, oddly touching. Ronon was trying to keep things low key over John's blindness, and the runner knew he didn't want the others overhearing and having his weakness exposed to that degree.

"Thanks," he said, and raising his voice, called to Groton. "How many people can fit in this elevator?"

The dry laugh floated back to him. "Colonel, this was used to transport an entire population back and forth from the surface. We'll fit."

There was a satisfying thunk, and Rodney crowed, "Got it! One escape portal signed, sealed and delivered, thank you, so much. I wield a mean blow torch, if I do say so myself." Rodney paused before asking in their direction. "What was that, like ten minutes? Five? Seriously, that was faster than even I thought I could do."

"McKay," John said. "Just look for the elevator. We'll award you the medal of torching when we get out of here."

There was the sound of the flame snapping off, and then Rodney's voice sounded muffled. "I think – yes, it's here!" His voice grew clear and loud again in front of John. "Right where it should be." McKay clapped his hands. "Are we ready to go?"

Are we ready to go? John shook his head, mildly amused at the impact of the casual statement. Despite the uncertainty of what awaited when they got back to Atlantis, the prospect of leaving this dark world, and he wasn't talking about the lack of his sight, was…meaningful, a relief that was so physically strong he never could've put words to. This city had the feel of a dying cancer patient.

"Ronon, get the refugees through first, I'll follow with McKay," John ordered. He let Teyla walk him the remaining way till he felt the warmth from Rodney's body close to his side. "You, too, Teyla," he nodded forward, towards the hole…he hoped.

"We will get them loaded on the lift," she said in acknowledgement, and pulled her hand away.

Ahead, and muffled from the thick steel barrier between them, John heard Groton start directing his people where to go. Ronon and Teyla's voices joined in with the chorus of others. McKay's hand gripped his arm, "They're in. And now would be a really good time to leave."

John picked up on a thread of anxiety. "What is it?"

"Apparently the engineers of Nokomis have more competency than a mouse," he muttered. "So, again, this would be a good time to leave. Before Queen of Hearts over there is rescued, and tries to come after our heads."

"That wasn't even…what, two hours?"

"Thank you, Big Ben," Rodney snapped. "Now, duck and make yourself even skinnier so you don't burn yourself on the edges. This metal retains heat."

John was about to move forward, and duck, letting Rodney guide him, when Gadmere's words came up from behind, striking him in surprise.

"What can you do without your eyesight?"

Even though he knew the administrator was a paranoid, petty, and desperate man, the impact of the words cut. There was the wound of insecurity, and regardless of how many times he told himself he'd find a way, the naked fact of being blind kept it from healing. John knew that he could lie to himself in a hundred different ways, but in the end, the cold reality of darkness refused to be yielded.

He straightened, and turned around. Gadmere was back there, watching the worst thing the administrator could imagine happen in front of his eyes. His people were escaping and making for the surface. Sheppard knew the final cut against him was one man's last desperate grab for anything. But it gave him a new insight about the future that waited for him. "I can live," John replied. "Which is more than you're doing down here."

John didn't wait for Gadmere to reply. He turned, and fumbled for McKay's hand, feeling the warm palm wrap over his own, and let his head be pushed downward. He took the step forward, trying to keep his body as compact as possible. Despite his efforts, his shoulder brushed something hot, and he sucked in a quick breath, forcing himself to not jerk back, and make it worse. A few seconds more and he was through the hole.

"Sorry," Rodney rushed, fiddling with John's shoulder. "It's just a singe. Ronon, slide the slab back in place, but don't…damn it…" he snapped. "Yes…at a slight angle so it DOESN'T fall through. Brilliant." The impatient sigh made John grin.

He hadn't heard Ronon come back this way, but then again, the slab of metal was heavy enough that he was thankful for the runner's strength. There was a clang as Ronon adjusted it against the wall. "That good?" he asked, gruffly.

"Fine," Rodney replied. "Just…fine."

The air felt stale this far down, but at least there was air, which meant the topside probably wasn't sealed. John figured there was some kind of hatch mechanism that allowed the elevator to rise out of the ground. Considering that no one from Atlantis had arrived in the underground city, his guess was that it was well concealed and in decent condition, whatever it was.

McKay tugged on his arm, and John moved forward with him, only dragging a little behind. A few steps later and Rodney said, "Step up high."

John lifted his foot, stepped forward, and felt his right foot come down about half a foot higher than where his left was. Testing it, he found it solid, and pushed down with his right, hopping up and in to the lift.

There was a lot of murmuring from the refugees, and he could hear Groton and Calicutt specifically reassuring the others. John could imagine that the excitement of leaving the depressing city behind was becoming more than they could contain in quiet. But, they weren't out of Nokomis yet. "What does it look like?" he asked McKay. "Can you get it working? Or are we officially screwed?"

"We were screwed from the moment we set foot on this planet," groused Rodney, from behind him.

"McKay…"

"I'm looking!" he retorted testily. "I did just finish cutting through steel that is easily eight inches thick -"

John understood that what McKay wasn't saying was that the effort to use the torch had fatigued his already weak right side. But, they didn't have the luxury of waiting for Rodney to recover. "Rodney, the guys with guns are coming right now, to drag us back and make sure we never see the light of day, so if you can fix it, now would be a good time."

There'd been many times where his blindness had frustrated him, but now was right up there with one of the worst. Time was running out, and even in the back of his mind, John was registering a sound. He'd learned one thing was true, when deprived of one of your senses, the others compensated. His hearing had become his lifeline, the only thing he could depend upon to tell him what was going on around him. Now, he was the first to hear it. "They're coming," he shouted to be heard above the rising conversation in the lift.

"I'm working on it," Rodney replied quickly. "Let the smart man work in peace and he'll get a lot more done."

John opened his mouth to retort that he'd get all the peace he'd need if he didn't get the thing working, but John figured Rodney probably knew that. God, he felt so damn helpless. He could admit it to himself a hundred times, and it didn't help make the feeling go away. The sounds of wailing in the background grew, and let him know that time was running out. Was there some rule that police sirens had to be loud and obnoxious regardless of what planet you were on in the universe?

The floor jolting underneath his feet caused him to thrust his hands out for balance. Teyla was there, and steadied him. He knew it was her because of the familiar scent. "He got it working," he muttered towards her.

"It would seem so," she confirmed steadily. "We are moving up."

A cheer rose around him, and Sheppard mentally joined them. His heart was racing. This was it. They were on their way out, and all those nights he'd lain awake, dreading and wanting, were culminating now. He had equal parts fear and anticipation of what he couldn't help or prevent, and the worry that this old bucket of bolts would shudder apart before they reached the top.

The trip lasted an eternity. The elevator was big, and though he couldn't see how big, John could hear from the echoing of voices that it was large. So, Groton had gotten that right, also. There weren't bodies pressing against him, something for which he was very thankful for, but also the sounds of others were varied from close to distant.

As the lift ground upward towards the surface, it groaned and shook with protest. A few times John called "McKay!" certain it was shaking apart, but all he got back was "It's a hundred years old, what'd you expect" and then more grumbling as Rodney kept coaxing the controls. Maybe coaxing was sugarcoating it. There were a lot of protesting beeps from Rodney's direction.

When the upward movement jolted to a stop, John raised an eyebrow towards Rodney. "Does that mean we're there, or are we hanging in the shaft about to die?"

More muttering, a loud plaintive beep, and the wall he'd leaned against began to move. John yelped, jumped back, fell against Ronon and thought maybe leaning against unknown walls was a bad thing to do for future reference.

Rodney patted him on the shoulder, and said with deserved smugness, "That would be the door out."

"Good work," John said. "Now help me out of here before they trample us."

The noise from the people in the back had shifted to delighted exclamations and shouts of surprise. Though John couldn't see the sun streaming into the lift, he could imagine how excited he would be if he could. And these people had lived their entire life underground. No trees, no sun, only recycled air and dim twilight darkness.

Teyla stepped around him, her perfume smell trailing behind. Ronon followed her, his heavy footsteps even with only a small limp, probably so small that John was the only one that heard the difference in the runner's steps. McKay had his arm, and nudged him forward. There wasn't anything to step over, just one simple step and his feet were off the metal and onto spongy earth.

They'd made it. It wasn't a matter of when, or how, but they'd done it. He let Rodney guide him off to the side, so the others could make their way out. The sun was warm on his face, the air fresh, and he felt that alone could sustain him for a while.

"Colonel, you have our gratitude," Groton said.

John opened his eyes, and stared towards the voice. "It's a two-way street," he admitted. "What will you do now?" Though he didn't think Gadmere would come after them, Sheppard couldn't say for certain.

"I'm not sure." The reply, when it came, seemed lost in the mixture of wonderment at being free finally, and confusion over what to do now that the unattainable had been attained.

"We're going to a world where you'd be welcome," John offered. The alpha site was a temporary location, and then if Elizabeth approved, they could join the Athosians on the mainland. He had the IDC device, but they'd been gone for two months. The codes were changed and he'd prefer not to be splattered on the shield after finally escaping. They'd gate to the alpha site first, drop off the Nokomisians and then on to Atlantis. Fifty people weren't that much – "I don't suppose you want to try and offer others left below the chance to leave?"

Calicutt spoke from somewhere to Groton's left, "Going back would sign our death certificates. Unfortunately, there was no way of advertising. Taking on new members placed everyone at risk. We had to limit it to only those we could trust and their families."

Sheppard thought about all the people below that wouldn't get the chance to leave. They were prisoners, as much as they'd all been. And short of taking a large force down, there wouldn't be a way to give the others an opportunity. Even knowing how bad it was, the fact remained; the Atlantis expedition wasn't there for getting involved in other world's politics and causes.

"We'll take you up on your offer," Groton spoke up. "There's nothing left here, and if we stay, there's the chance that Gadmere will get a large number of security officers and come up to take care of the so-called risk he sees."

"The gate!" exclaimed Rodney, interrupting. He grabbed John, and spun him around thirty degrees. "I can't believe it." McKay's voice sounded like a kid opening up a present on Christmas that he'd never really thought he'd get. Surprised delight. "Something actually went right, for once."

Teyla's voice held wonder as she said, "The elevator delivered us right in front of the stargate."

Sheppard grinned. Sometimes things just worked out that way and damn if it wasn't about time.