Disclaimer see Chapter 1
The fire of automatic weapons tore into the silence of the forest. The only other sound audible was the strange, electric hum of the jumper's hull when the metal was hit by the Wraiths' stunners. Feral screams, Teyla could not tell whether they were human or alien puncture the violent exchange of fire. The Jumper rocked as something thumped against its hull. Frantic screams outside were drowned out by the explosions of gunfire. Teyla hated feeling helpless, sitting inside the jumper, left the feel the cold presence of the enemy looming outside, pressing to invade their last sanctuary to feed on her and her helpless friends. The machine gun fire lessened outside and suddenly the hatch was yanked open with force.
A wave of cold rushed at Teyla. It felt like a cold hand was reaching around her throat, suffocating her. She had not felt the presence of the Wraith like this for many years. They were close, directly upon her. The sensation was overwhelming, pain lanced through her head, as she shivered and struggled to breathe through the tightness around her throat.
A heavy weight pressed down on her chest, lighting a fire of pain. Cold was replaced by burning heat. The pain surged through her, paralysing her. Her mind screamed in protest, her instincts telling her to defend herself. Teyla struggled out from under the weight holding her down, her arms weakly pushing against a heavy weight above her. Like in frenzy, she kicked and pounded at the presence above her. Her limbs grew numb and the pain drove tears to her eyes as she struggled in vain. Teyla knew that it was hopeless and that she would succumb to the Wraith, it was only a matter of minutes now until she lost control over her body. But she would fight until the bitter end; she would never give up as long as she lived.
Carson's head was swimming, his vision was dancing. Pain was radiating from the left side of his face all the way around his head down his neck. He wondered whether he had cracked his cheekbone when the Wraith had thrown him against the bulk head of the Jumper. Wraith? Carson's head shot up as he recalled what he happened. The Wraith, they had attacked the Jumper. One of them had gotten inside. Where was he? Teyla! Where was she? Carson stumbled forwards to the cockpit. Nothing, no one was there, he was alone in the front of the ship. The hatch was ajar. Carson listened. It was quiet outside; the fight must have died down. Carson took a handgun from one of the compartments and then slid the hatch open with trembling hands.
It was dark outside and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Then he saw the field of destruction before him. Wraith and humans alike lay strewn on the ground. None of the bodies moved, giving no indications who, if any of them lived.
A sound to his left startled him. His eyes darted in the direction, but he saw nothing in the darkness. He strained to hear and indeed, he could hear what sounded like muffled shouts and something moving in the undergrowth. Wiping his seating hands, he gripped the gun tighter and walked around the Jumper. Now he saw what he had heard. A few meters of, a Wraith was hunched over a figure on the ground, which was fighting back, fiercely. He couldn't tell who it was; the moon had disappeared behind a cloud, leaving him in darkness.
Carson thought quickly. He could either try to get closer to get a better shot at the Wraith, but risk to be discovered, or shoot from where he was and risk missing and then be discovered. He decided to sneak closer as it was too dark to take proper aim and he wasn't a very good shot to start with.
Carson managed to get within ten feet before the Wraith whirled around and started at him. Carson had never been this close to a live Wraith before. The ghost-like face with its black eyes was almost mesmerizing.
"How dare you interrupt me, human?" The Wraith growled menacingly.
A face of fear washed through Carson. He fumbled for the trigger and fired the gun. The Wraith jerked, but remained standing. His hollow laughter chilled Carson to the bone.
"Your feeble weapons will not defeat me. I shall feed on you next." The Wraith gave him a shove and like he was weightless, Carson crashed to the ground several meters backwards.
Slowly, he crawled back to his feet, amazed that nothing was broken. He advanced on the Wraith again, vowing to make better use of the gun again this time. He knew that a Wraith could be killed.
As soon as he had a clear view on the Wraith again, he opened fire. At first, the Wraith didn't even seem to take notice of the bullets striking his torso. Carson tried to aim for his head, but he didn't hit high enough. When Carson was already about to despair that his attack was fruitless, the Wraith came towards, staggering visibly, Carson wanted to keep firing, but his gun only clicked. He was doomed. Out of ammunition with a Wraith advancing on him.
The Wraith was about to lunge at him, so Carson flung himself to the ground and lashed at the legs of the enemy, trying to shake him off his balance. The already staggering Wraith fell over on top of Carson. He was heavier than Carson had imagined and before he could free himself the Wraith was back on his feet, pulling Carson back up with him, only to fling him to the ground a couple of meters further away into a few bushes.
The impact was hard, in spite of the bushes taking some of the force of it. For a moment Carson couldn't breathe and everything went black. A moment later, at least he thought that he had only been out a second, he was panting and staring at the star filled sky. His entire body was hurting. He was going to be badly bruised at the very least.
There was gunfire not too far away. Gunfire was good. One of their own people was alive. Despite the pain, Carson smile and tried to get up. Fierce pain shot through his rib cage and he winced sharply, but got to his feet nonetheless. Slightly limping he hobbled back towards the Jumper.
"Dr. Beckett? Is that you?" A flashlight blinded him. He couldn't see who was asking, but he recognized the voice as belonging to Sergeant Bates. He sounded rough and exhausted.
"Yes, it's me. Don't shoot."
"What the hell are you doing out here?" Bates shouted angrily.
"There was a Wraith, I saw him attack someone, and I only tried to help." Carson felt like he needed to apologize. It was ridiculous; all he had wanted to do was save people. That was what he was here to do.
"The Wraith is dead. You should take a look at Teyla over here." Bates sounded a little less angry now.
"Is she hurt?" Carson was concerned, switching into professional mode now.
"The Wraith attacked her." Bates' voice was clipped.
Carson kneeled down next to Teyla who was already sitting up again. In the dark, it was hard to see anything. Bates and his flashlight had disappeared towards the Jumper.
"Teyla? It's me, Dr. Beckett." Carson said softly, recalling that Teyla was still blinded. "Can you get up?"
"Yes. I can get up." her voice quavered slightly.
Carson supported Teyla on their way back to the Jumper. They paused when they reached the front of the jumper. Sergeants Stackhouse and Bates were there, looking the jumper over. Nobody seemed to pay any attention to the two dead Wraith on the ground. Markman was still sitting on the ground, looking somewhat dazed.
"Teyla, go in and sit down. Can you manage that?"
"That is not a problem." Teyla swayed slightly, but managed to get into the Jumper on her own.
Carson quickly turned to Markham to assure himself that the young man was going to be all right before following Teyla.
In the light of the inside of the Jumper, he could finally have a good look at her. Like when he had examined the major earlier, she too sported a blooded handprint on her chest. The wound itself seemed to be a burn. Whether the Wraith caused this by using a chemical or by actual heat transfer would remain unknown until they returned to Atlantis. For the moment, the wound presented a risk of infection, but was not too serious. Silently, Carson cleaned and bandaged the wound.
"There. There isn't much more I can do until we get back to Atlantis. You better lie down in the back. I'll help you there." Carson took Teyla's hand.
But she freed her hand of his grasp.
"Doctor, please tell me. I know you will do all you can, but even the Atlantians cannot undo the changes brought on by the Wraith."
"Oh, Teyla. You are not an old woman. The Wraith didn't have enough time. You fought him well. He didn't take much away from you. You still have much time ahead of you."
"It seemed so long..." Teyla whispered, exhaustion shining through in her voice.
"Your chest must be hurting badly. Let me give you something for the pain and then you can sleep a bit." Carson suggested.
"Agreed." Teyla gave in.
A persistent hum woke John. By now he was used to wake up in discomfort. Lately it seemed there was no other way of waking up anymore.
Coming to full awareness, he realized that he had been sleeping on the bare floor, a further sign that things continued to deteriorate. The last time he had woken up, he had been tied up, but at least he had been tied up on a bed. Now he was hurting, hot, thirsty and sleeping on a steel floor. John shifted into a sitting position. The motion tugged at the stitches he had received after Bates had tried to stab him the previous day. John swore under his breath when looked up and discovered the source of the persistent humming. He was sitting behind a blue tinged force field. On the wrong side. He rubbed his face. What a way to start the day. Slowly, the events of the previous day came back in all their splendour. He had taken Elizabeth hostage as she had tried to kiss him, then he had tried to gate off Atlantis, which obviously had not quite panned out. And he had discovered that Carson was a junkie. Everything was wrong with this universe, but it was better than living his life in the tiny cell.
John leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, hoping to ease his headache. He must have drifted off, because when he opened his eyes again, he wasn't alone in the cell again. Carson was leaning against the opposite wall, watching him with a grin. John eyes him carefully. He couldn't judge this Carson. He wasn't as malevolent as most of the other players he had encountered so far in this twisted world, but he was clearly not the kind and capable doctor he had known before.
"There I thought you would never wake up. It would have been such a waste." Carson commented as he saw him notice his presence.
"What do you want?" John asked.
"I wanted to see how you are. After all you must be fit for tomorrow. It's going to be your big day."
John didn't like the evil glint in Carson's eyes one little bit. He was pretty sure that Carson was high again.
"If you trust me I can help you." Carson walked over to John, putting his hands on John's shoulders.
"Do you trust me?" Carson leaned in close.
John's head was spinning. Was it just him or was everyone wanting to jump him. First Elizabeth was playing with him, although the wine had been poisoned, and now Beckett was coming on to him as well.
"Why should I?" John replied coolly, deciding to ignore any offers for now.
"You better trust me; your life depends on it. Our lovely Elizabeth is a very vengeful woman. She is not going to forgive you." Carson smiled gently.
John thought for a moment. Carson had a point there. He had been wondering about the fall-out, but he doubted that there was anything that Carson could do for him, except kill him before Elizabeth had the chance.
"Did you know that your execution is set for dawn tomorrow. Elizabeth wanted, as she put it, a classic setting." Carson said calmly. "I myself would have gone for a midnight execution. But who is to argue with a woman." He shrugged.
"What!" John yelled, before reminding himself to calm down. Yelling wasn't going to do him any good.
"Do you trust me?" Carson repeated.
"What can you do?"
"Just tell me, do you trust me?"
"Yes, I trust you." John lied. He had no other choice. It was not that he had anything left to lose. If he was indeed to be executed at dawn tomorrow, what could Carson do now to harm him? His mind came up with unbidden answers, but he quickly suppressed them.
"Then tell me your code the override the lock of the dialling computer."
"I can't...I..."
"Don't lie to me." Carson said sharply and grabbed one of John's wrists. "I know you have a code. Now give it to me if you want me to help you."
There was something cool touching his face. Rodney could not recall the last time he had felt something this good. The cold was soothing his pounding headache and took away some of the unbearable heat that was burning within him, threatening to consume him whole.
Suddenly, the cool soft sensation stopped. Irritated, Rodney opened his eyes, searching for the source of his relief. He found John sitting next to him, a dripping rag in his hand.
"Rodney! You're awake. How are you feeling?" John asked and smiled a radiant smile at him.
Rodney blinked, not sure what he was seeing was real, and his brain felt like it was wrapped in several layers of cotton wool. Hadn't John been glowing the last time he had seen him? He had just been an illusion of his feverish mind, but now he looked perfectly normal as he sat beside him. There was no sign of the injuries that Rodney had inflicted on him in the struggle in the prison cell.
The look in John's face change from a smile to concern when Rodney didn't answer.
"You're running a high fever. I have been trying to bring it down." The cool wet rag returned to Rodney's forehead.
"Can you drink something? I have some water here." John raised a small bowl of water to Rodney's mouth. Rodney eagerly took a few sips. Swallowing hurt, but the cool liquid soothed his throat at the same time.
"You...you don't 'glow' anymore." Rodney managed eventually, the few words triggering a coughing fit that was so immensely painful that for a moment all he saw was blankness.
"Rodney, stay with me." Rodney felt a firm grip on his arm, and John's voice pulled him back to the present. As soon as the pain had abated enough he looked up to the other man, waiting for an answer to his question.
"You needed me to be here for you." John finally explained.
"Not...cryptic shit." Rodney coughed, not the least in the mood for mind games.
"Stop talking and rest. It will be a little while longer until the Jumper gets here. There have been some problems. You needed someone to do more than just talk to you, so here I am helping you out. Drink some more. You are pretty dehydrated." John went on without a pause.
Rodney drank again.
"You are him, aren't you?" He asked after they had sat in silence for several minutes.
John nodded.
"Yes, I'm John Sheppard." John settled for a half-truth.
Rodney accepted to answer without further questions. He was too tired and in too much pain to probe any further. He had something to say and John was the person who needed to hear it.
"John, listen." He pushed himself up on his elbows.
"Rodney. Stay down. There will be plenty of time later on." John calmed him.
"No, listen to me, this is important. I want to tell you something. I'm sorry for what I did. I didn't mean to kill you back in the cell. It was an accident. You were fighting against me, that...that wasn't supposed to happen. You are very strong. I was afraid that you'd kill me. Then it happened...I'm so sorry, John. I only meant to fight back...I can't remember...head hurts too much." Rodney erupted into another coughing fit.
John held him close, rubbing his back until the paroxysm of coughing subsided.
"Oh Rodney. You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn't kill me. You couldn't."
"But...but I saw your body. All the blood. I killed you." Rodney whispered his voice raw.
"It's not true. You have a high fever; your mind was tricking you." John soothed. "I won't leave you."
TBC