Wow – got home and STACKS of reviews! Thank you all! And thank you for your patience. Part 4…
Chapter 7
I was, and would be forever, grateful to Beckett for removing the tag. Atlantis had seemed a fine enough place for me to recover and decide where to go next – food, a reasonably safe place to sleep, and had I mentioned the food?
I was surprised when Sheppard offered me a place on the team, and I accepted it for the freedom it gave me. See, I figured I could stay with this gang until I got bored, then head out and do some of the things I'd dreamed of when I was still tagged - most of which, admittedly, involved killing Wraith in various new and interesting ways.
I felt the pressure, too, of being the only surviving member of my people, and I'd listened, as a newbie in the Satedan armed forces, when they talked in the barracks of the noble heroes who had come before. The glorious last stands taken defending our fleeing citizens, Wraith darts falling from the sky. I'd taken all those tales in.
I was very young then. But it was still that obscure idea of avenging my people – now more of a slogan in my mind than a deep-seated need – that originally kept me on Atlantis. The real reason was to revenge myself on as many of my enemy as I could. Try to take payment from them for what they'd taken from me. See, it wasn't the 'Satedan people' I wanted revenge for. It was my friends, my family. My life.
But then I found out about Kell. He'd been a traitor to his own people, and I'd taken advantage of Teyla's good will to eliminate him. I remember sitting in my room, after we'd returned, thinking about that.
I came to the conclusion I hadn't behaved very well. Mind you, it was easier to think that way, knowing that Kell was dead, than knowing he was alive and not killing him. But I realized that I was still only thinking of my own survival, and not how I could affect the survival of others – and it was evident that my old habits had to change. It wasn't really much of a shift. I just had to remember my actions had effects on my team too.
The other three I was teamed with were - well - comfortable to me; I understood them better than I thought I would. Sheppard's basic drive was to explore. Teyla's was to protect. McKay's was to learn. Their quirks and personalities meshed well, and it took some time – and an attitude shift for me from 'I' to 'We' – but I meshed too.
When Sheppard was infected with the virus, though, I finally realized I would not be moving on from Atlantis, at least not for some time.
I'd become involved again.
I blinked at the snap of the burning log. The light of the fire flickered over the room, creating dancing shapes in the corners of my eyes. I didn't hear anything worrisome, though, and the noises outside were still happy and comfortable. I glanced over at McKay, saw the glitter of his eyes, knew he was still awake, but it was warm and comfortable and movement wasn't necessary.
Inertia. It was hard to battle. I'd taught myself how, 'cause when I was running inertia was entropy, and entropy was death. I lay there, though, and for once inertia won.
But it couldn't stop me thinking.
Chapter 8I'd given a lot of reports in my life. I'd reminded myself of that as Weir sat behind her desk, glancing at me, at Teyla.
"Carson will let us know if there's any change, but he thinks they'll both sleep through the night. He was very pleased with their progress. The Ancient device he used has made a definite difference." She shifted a bit. "I'm sorry to ask you to do this tonight."
"We understand," Teyla had replied. I'd just nodded. I'd had a nap, a run, a shower. The fear that had sent me out of the infirmary was under control now. We'd put this report off long enough, waiting for confirmation our teammates would live. It couldn't be delayed any longer.
"Ronon."
I'd sat a bit straighter. I preferred to stand when reporting, but Weir had asked me to sit.
"Tell me what happened."
I'd stared at her a moment, assembling my thoughts.
"Lorne's team secured the tunnel entryway," I began. "As we'd discussed, the two of us headed in."
The discussion had been a bit heated, but since our ultimate aim was the same, we'd come to an agreement during the final planning we'd done before landing. The teams - and us - had been ready to go at a moment's notice, and once we'd had the intel and the 'go', we'd gone.
Teyla and I would go in, using what we knew to find our teammates. Lorne and his team would cover our access point and be backup.
"We encountered no one until we reached the main cells. The night infiltration had been a good choice."
But the workers in the lower chambers never slept. I'd paused, trying to put into words the smell, the dankness, the sounds of the unfortunates below..."It was indescribable." I said finally, giving up. "I've never been anywhere like it. A Wraith ship is bad, but they're aliens. You almost expect it. These were other humans."
The fear had stirred again, even here in Weir's office, gathering itself. To regain control, I'd stood, falling back to old habits, shrugging off the hand Teyla had laid on my arm. I knew she'd understand.
"There were two guards outside the cell. I killed them. We took the torches and went in."
And then I'd described it, words coming almost absently, the memory burned into my mind so clearly it was almost as if I were describing it just as it had happened in front of me. The guttering of the few torches in the hallways, the absolute absence of light within the cell before we arrived.
And what the light had shown us, once we'd gained entrance to the cell we'd learned held them. I still saw it, even awake, it lurked in the shadows of a bright day; Sheppard held against McKay's chest, head settled against the man's shoulder like a sleeping child in his dad's arms. I couldn't see them breathe. They didn't move.
I'd covered the distance without thinking, dropped to one knee beside them. I didn't dare touch them, just listened until I heard the shallow, wheezing breaths. They'd improvised bandages, they hadn't given up, but there were some things bandages couldn't help.
I'd found it easier to restrain myself once I'd seen the state my friends were in, realizing I had other responsibilities now, to my team. But I could still recall, without effort, the black fury I'd felt, how easily the guards went down. I could remember the horror and pity and grief in the pit of my stomach when we'd found them. But those were emotions I had no words for. I didn't bother telling about that.
Of course, it had gotten worse.
McKay had been delirious, parched, beaten and starving, but he was still trying to protect Sheppard, lost in his own world, not hearing me. I'd tried, but 'gentle' isn't one of the things I do best. I'd stepped back, letting Teyla approach, and she had spoken to him as if she were talking to a spooked animal – something else I was no good at. Finally, though, her patience had been rewarded, something had registered. She'd just kept telling him we were there, we were rescuing them, and something had broken through. He'd stared at her, then at me, blinking in the fitful light of the torch like some sort of night bird caught in the daylight. There was recognition in his face, and he'd let me take Sheppard.
It was odd. My commander's body had felt at once light and heavy in my arms. The man had never been heavy, but now, after what he'd endured, he was simply skinny.
I really tried not to let emotion colour my report, I detached myself as well as I could, but even so I faltered for a moment. There was something about that place that wasn't anything tangible. I had no use for superstition, but it seemed as if the weight of the suffering in that whole prison was in the air, like a dense fog. It was oppressive and cloying, and it was hanging over us all as I'd shifted the torch, lifted Sheppard and looked at Teyla, hoping that McKay was mobile.
"Teyla's strong, but McKay's taller," I heard myself say to Weir. "I knew if he hadn't been able to walk we'd have had to call in Lorne."
And then I'd heard steps. I'd dragged the bodies of the guards into the cell as we'd entered, but the torches would glow light where it should be dark. I'd extinguished my own by stepping on it, and Teyla had followed my lead like a trooper, trusting I had good reason without asking why. I'd dropped to my knees by Teyla and McKay, letting Sheppard down to lean against me. McKay had made a quiet, protesting noise at the loss of light, and I'd reached out in the dark to take his arm, felt as Teyla did the same, and we'd waited there together.
The dark was a living thing down there, pulsing with the sounds of pain and terror. We'd huddled against it, all four of us, and I'd listened hard, past the sounds. The halls themselves were barely lit, and I'd hoped the fact the door to this particular cell was propped open slightly would go unobserved.
The footsteps had stopped. Low voices conversed. A flame flickered as someone lit another torch, and then the footsteps continued, fading in the distance. We were safe.
"Can you bring him?" I'd whispered to Teyla. I stood again, lifting Sheppard in my arms. He was cold and clammy, and it wasn't just because of the cell temperature.
"I will," she had replied. "His ribs are injured, but we will manage."
She'd spoken quietly in McKay's ear. He didn't seem to understand, and I couldn't hear actual words, but the tone was soothing and I had felt the shift in the air, heard the scrape of fabric against stone as he responded to it, following her tugs and pulls to stand, wavering. She'd pulled his arm over her shoulder - McKay had stifled a cry and lurched, falling into me. I'd anticipated it and stood firm.
In the blackness, I'd heard her voice, quiet and compassionate, but firm. "Rodney, you must stand. We are taking you home, but you have to help us now."
The physicist had pushed up, using me as an aid to straighten. He seemed to grasp the urgency, and I found myself grateful for the man's stubbornness. He never quit.
"We are ready," Teyla had said.
"We made it back to the entryway without incident," I finished. "Chapman helped Teyla with McKay, I had Sheppard. We made it back to the jumper and left."
Weir had nodded. "Thank you, Ronon. Please..." she'd gestured to the chair.
I'd dropped my head, sunk into the chair. I had been as tired, suddenly, as I could ever remember being.
"Teyla?"
I'd sat quietly, listening as she clarified some parts, elaborated on others. The comfortable drone of their voices had washed over me, like it was water washing the dirt off my memories. I'd seen far worse, myself. But it had all came back to the fact I hadn't had anyone else to look out for in so long. I still felt a deep sense of failure.
"Ronon."
With a start, I realized Weir had said my name once already, and had repeated it.
"We're done?"
"With half of the mission personnel on turnaround back to Earth, and given the recovery period Doctor Beckett is estimating for the other half of your team, I took the liberty," she'd smiled at Teyla, "of contacting the Athosians about permitting them...all of you...what amounts to a working vacation on the mainland. They were very receptive. Teyla, can you make the arrangements?"
I hadn't needed to see her to know she was smiling. "Of course. It is an excellent idea."
"Ronon," Weir had leveled a frank gaze at me. "I understand you may have a line on some of your people. If you wanted to pursue your search..."
And I'd been surprised how easy the decision was.
"I'll stick with my team." I hadn't explained further, and she hadn't asked, just nodded.