Wheeeeee Angela!
Notes: Sorry about the delay, College is eating my brain and will to live (we ran out of cereals). Thanks so much for the comments, you guys crack me up!
Long
This time it was different. Memories were not random. They bathed in one essence, had one connecting factor.
Sheppard's left him alone. Through death or human callousness, he was one man against the world. His mother's funeral, his father's refusal, a friend's death, a woman's betrayal. A portal took him for six long months, a Celebrant sent him to Oblee, to severance. Alone, always alone.
Teyla's were tinted with blood. Death, carnage, violence. That is was she saw. She ran through a cruel world, killing and mourning. Often, an image of herself as Wraith flashed on the screen, coming between other memories, everywhere all at once. It took over everything, tainting her life.
McKay's were failures and the subsequent rejections. Theories were refuted, faces sneered, people died, fingers pointed, problems went unsolved, cruel laughs echoed. Loveless and flawed, he stumbled through different times, different places, growing bitter and cold. A young woman appeared every few cycle, stroking his longer hair, whispering unintelligible words filled with nothing but tenderness, but she was quickly replaced with an older woman, screaming at the top of her lungs that he, Rodney McKay, was the cause of all her misery, of everyone's misery.
Ronon watched as the same images came, over and over. From childhood to a time so very near the present, he experienced the things they dreaded the most. He resolved to tell them what he had seen. If only to prove to Sheppard he was not alone, he didn't need to be. Teyla needed to know violence was not a part of her but a part of life. All their lives were tainted with the blood they had spilled, the blood they had seen flowing, but it was not of her, did not live within her. She was not a Wraith, not like them. McKay deserved acceptance, friendship and care. Despite his many flaws, he was a good man and the new information Ronon had garnered changed his perception. Rodney had been shaped into the man he was and no one had ever informed him that there was no need for it. Protecting himself with extreme obnoxiousness was not necessary amongst friends.
Vulnerability, it began and ended within it. They were all afraid to be fallible. He stood and moved close to the wall. He watched them, huddled together in gelatine. An amusing portrait if taken at face value, but he was not seeing them there. He saw them in his mind, as they were in life, as they projected themselves. Strong. Invulnerable.
He smiled. He had seen that invulnerability and how it had been a sham. It had come with a yellow tinge he'd come to associate with McKay's reminiscing and he had finally remembered. Yellow-bellied, an Earth euphemism for cowardice. McKay would never be truly invulnerable; always plagued by his foolish claims of cowardice, of a substandard nature.
Ronon was relieved; he could control his need to see more now that the memories were always the same. He had memorised them. Knew what would be said, what would be done. He only had to wait for them to come out. He would tell them what had happened. He would! They needed to know the things he had seen, needed to be told of their erroneous beliefs.
In the end, he was forced to inform others of his newly acquired knowledge.
As he watched Sheppard yell at the top of his lungs for someone to give him a fucking break, his face a mask of fury and sorrow, Ronon heard a loud lurching sound. Turning, he saw the wall opposite his team spread sideways, separating to form a dark corridor. He stepped to the side of the opening, weapon drawn. A girlish giggle came from the depth of the squish.
"Don't be ridiculous you murderous brute, I can see you!"
He knew the voice and held his weapon high. "Let me see you."
"You will not shoot me, will you? This is a new dress and it would be dreadfully inconvenient to have it dirtied so soon."
"I won't shoot you if you don't give me a reason."
"One can only try. I will now step forward and exit this corridor of horrid substance."
Ronon stood at the ready. When she appeared, he did not show any surprise. She smiled brightly.
"Hello!"
"Why are you here?"
She ignored him and walked over to the opposite wall that held Sheppard, McKay and Teyla. "They do look dreadful, don't they? I truly hate being here, it carries a scent that I simply cannot stomach." She turned back to Ronon. "They tell me you have been quite at ease, but of course a mere odour is nothing for a man such as you, is it not?"
Ronon held his weapon steadfastly though it felt heavier in his hand. It was a softer, more feminine copy of Sheppard that looked at him, and it felt wrong to take aim at such a familiar face, as it had the previous times.
"What do you want?"
"I want what everybody wants! Power, knowledge, riches beyond your wildest dreams and true love. What is it that you want?"
"Don't toy with me! Tell me why you're here and I won't kill you where you stand."
"Oh, Mister Dex, please." She spread her arms, palms up. "We are not enemies! I am simply here to apprise you of the situation. You are growing concerned, not such a good little subject after all. Therefore, I have been sent to retrieve you."
Ronon stared at her for a moment, trying to make sense of the seemingly incoherent ramblings she had spoken. It wasn't to be. "What?"
"Ummmm, yes, you warrior types, always a little slow aren't you? Oblee did tell me he was remarkably obtuse." She pointed at Sheppard's still form.
"What do you want?"
She spoke slowly, enunciating exaggeratedly. "I am here. To take you. Away."
He glared at her and stepped forward to take a stance in front of his team, forcing her to take a step back. "Away?"
She frowned and sighed, as if his question was a great annoyance. "To your home. You do not respond to the Pensey. You seem mesmerized by what it has been able to show you, but you are of no use here if all you will do is watch. Eavesdropping is so unbecoming on one who calls himself a friend."
Ronon was about to speak, to tell her he would not leave without them, but she held up a hand to stop him. It was unfortunate that he had been so beautifully trained that even after years out of the military, he instinctively followed orders.
"There is nothing you can do. You are surrounded by the Pensey. If you attempt anything, they will be dead before you reach the furthest border of this area. You have seen what pain it is capable of inflicting and believe me, you have seen but a fraction."
"Why are you keeping them?"
"For the moment let us pretend that I am keeping them to advance my position in life. It is of an utterly selfish nature, I must admit, but you have joined me on that road, have you not? You have been enjoying the theatre that has been provided for you, but may not continue to do so."
A voice echoed, as before, no longer enticing, but cold and devoid of intonations. "Lady Celebrant, put an end to your conversation and remove Mister Dex."
She raised her hazel eyes to the ceiling. "Of course!" She shrugged and rested her gaze on him. "Now come with me or you will watch them die…or shall I say, hear them die." She put the tip of her finger a fraction of an inch away from the squish over McKay's face. "The pain he experienced was of much lesser intensity than what could come to them. You want them to be well, come, like the good little soldier boy that you are." She raised an eyebrow, in an incredibly Sheppard-like way, and exited through the corridor that had formed. He placed a hand to the squish, near McKay's head. It moved minutely and McKay's eyes opened wide. He didn't blink, didn't move, only his eyes moved from left to right, never to settle on a sight. Ronon took a step back and the blue eyes closed as the squish release its obvious painful hold. He stood, watching them, unwilling, unable to leave. He threw himself at the squish, plunged his hand deep within its fold and pulled at Teyla. Their eyes locked as he felt her pain. His head seemed on the verge of imploding. He pulled harder and she followed. The pain receded the moment she opened her eyes.
"Ronon?"
"We're going home."
Mira was standing close, too close, and when she spoke she sounded utterly appalled. "Oh no, that is impossible! She has to stay! You're the only one who gets to go."
"I'm not going anywhere without them." He turned to fetch Sheppard and McKay but the pain came back, taking both Teyla and him. They fell to their knees, clutching their heads and screaming, howling like wounded beasts. Had it been only him, he would've attempted to pull at least one of them out, but Teyla had sounded distraught, so much so he did not recognise the tone she had used. It was desperate, a plea for mercy. She was on her knees, her hands holding her head, her face a grimace of pain, not only physical. It was deeper.
"Teyla?" He crouched next to her and took hold of her hands, drawing them away from her face.
"I am fine. It has receded now."
He eyed her dubiously but had confidence in her abilities. She could move on, not dwell on what was plaguing her mind. He turned to Mira, who stood, arms crossed, tapping her foot in displeasure.
"I'm not leaving without them."
"Oh yes you are!"
He drew his weapon. "I'm not."
The voice came again, louder this time, a far cry from the soothing tones he had first heard. "Take her and go. We shall keep the others. They are best suited for our purpose. Leave!"
Ronon was about to counter their order but Teyla rose to her feet, placing a hand on his arm. "We are powerless Ronon. The Colonel would order us to leave. They would want it this way."
He was surprised, this was unlike her. She pressed her thumb on his arm, deeper, the flesh giving way. Their eyes locked and he saw her resolve. They would come back, they would not abandon Sheppard and McKay. They had resources and they knew who kept them. They knew the Lady Celebrant…and they knew Lokas. The old man had been incredibly helpful in returning Sheppard to them once, perhaps fortune would smile upon them again. He nodded minutely and turned to Mira, his scowl firmly in place.
"Come along now!" She joyfully beckoned to them and he had no choice but to follow. He stared at the screen one last time. He frowned. That had never happened. He knew it hadn't, for Lieutenant Ford and himself had never been in Atlantis together, even less on a mission. Yet there they were, standing by the gate in preparation for departure. Something had changed. These were not memories, they simply couldn't be! Mira's voice floated over to him and he resolved to follow her, keeping close to Teyla whose eyes were on the screen, a puzzled frown ruffling her brow. He turned and heard Sheppard's voice advising McKay to keep his mouth shut or he would be left behind on the planet, hopefully never to be heard again.
The image presented too many incongruities. It was a falsehood. He wondered if some of the memories he'd seen had been as well.
He continued wondering as they moved through the corridor that split the squish in two parts of equally unappealing gelatinous walls, following the Lady Celebrant. She was humming to herself, quite happy with her task. They walked for quite some time and Ronon was contemplating asking Teyla about her memories, if only to break the monotony of the trek, when they reached a dead end.
Mira plunged her hand in the squish, frowning. She moved, left to right, up and down, her forearm deeply ensconced. With a "ah ha!" she turned to Ronon.
"Come, contact your world."
Ronon stared, unprepared to join her where she stood. She huffed impatiently. "Come! You must press the symbol! The device is here!"
He looked to Teyla for indications of her thoughts. She nodded, an ever-present frown marring her features. He walked up to the wall and the Lady Celebrant guided his hand so it rested next to hers. He could feel the outline of the DHD and felt the circular device for the correct symbols, pressing them but not hearing the telltale sounds of locking chevrons. It was only when he removed his hand that he was certain the gate had dialled. Mira pulled him away from his position just as the vortex erupted from the squish, thus saving him from certain death through demolecularisation. His mind supplied a picture of McKay, in all his sarcastic glory, informing Sheppard that the cockpit was regrettably demolecularised and he couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. They had gotten out of that situation, surely this would be no different. They were not in a race against time nor, he suspected, against death. It was his firm belief that prisoners were not held without questioning for the simple pleasure of it. Of course, questioning was unnecessary when you could pull information directly from the mind of your captives.
"Off you go! Back home!" Mira was beaming, making shooing motions towards the squish. Teyla and Ronon eyed her doubtfully.
She rolled her eyes. She was certainly not the most patient Celebrant. "Walk through, it will not harm you! You saw just as well as I, the gate is a mere step away from where we stand. Go on." She was pushing Teyla towards the squish.
Ronon realised the demolecularisation threat was still pending. "Stop! Need the –"he pulled the GDO from his coat, thankful it had not been removed. He inputted his IDC and nodded. Teyla waited at the very edge of the wall. He came to join her and they walked through the squish. His tension eased as he felt the squishy pull lessen when the event horizon took over. Familiar. Good. Home.