A/N: Now for what you've all been waiting for...
8
John stepped wide over ferns, dead branches, bramble, and young shrubs. Noise was minimized to the sudden crunch of moss and leaves, but a twig hadn't snapped yet. Not an easy feat to pull in a forest this thick. Add to that keeping a P-90 raised to remain trained on the way ahead. There were no sounds, just the crunch of forest carpeting and the whisper of leaves when a breeze disturbed them, a breeze that leaked cold though John's clothes and made him shiver. He darted his eyes to the right at Lieutenant Ford trudging evenly beside him.
" Can I trust him?" John conversationally asked. Probably not a good idea, speaking out loud; but nothing about it felt wrong.
Ford shrugged. " Can't really answer that, sir. You've got the better gut instincts. What do they tell you?"
John's arms shook trying to keep the P-90 raised. He should have found it odd, but like with talking out loud while stalking through the forest, felt nothing troubling about it. If anything, it seemed about right, he just couldn't remember why. John squinted.
" I – I don't know."
Ford swung his own weapon this way and that. " You've been following him this far. Apparently, you trust something about him."
John's breathing was going labored, and his arm tried to lower on its own accord. He let out a breathy laugh. " Yeah, apparently. He hasn't beaten the hell out of me yet." He stumbled.
" Sir," Ford said. " You should wait here, rest a little. I'll go on ahead."
John sucked in a deep breath that rubbed his throat raw. " You – you sure?"
" No." Ford looked away, for a moment, to flash his CO a smile. " But it's not like you have a choice."
John hated that, wanted to rebel against it, but the truth kept him frozen to the spot as Ford moved on ahead, vanishing within the close-clustered trees with their moss speckled trunks of rust red. John dropped his weary body onto an old log, promising himself he'd catch up as soon as he caught his breath. He heard the increasing crunch of footsteps, so turned his head to see Lorne coming out of the woodworks.
Lorne inclined his head. " Sir," then sat down on the log beside Sheppard, resting his P-90 in his lap.
John leaned forward, planting his elbows a little above his knees. " Hey Major," he said.
" Ford go on ahead?"
John nodded, sadness a ton of bricks in his chest. " Yeah, he did."
" Too bad. What about you, sir?"
John smiled bitterly. " What about me?"
" You going to keep following this guy?"
John turned his head to regard the major. " Think I should? He hasn't screwed me yet."
Lorne reclined with his back against the tree behind the log. " I think that alone is incentive enough. Not much to lose at this point."
" But for how long? How long do I keep going?"
Lorne sniffed and shook his head. " Can't answer that, sir. You're call, not mine. But – if you want my advice – I say for however long it takes. Kind of like walking a road, and your only destination is the horizon. You may not think that's much of a destination, but the thing about horizons is that you never know what's on the other side of 'em. All roads and all horizons lead somewhere, sir. Doesn't matter the miles or how far that horizon stretches. There's always a destination, an end."
John chuckled. " When'd you get so wise and all knowing?"
Lorne shrugged. " When necessity dictated it. Come on sir, you've come this far. What's a little farther? Nothing to lose."
John nodded. " Nothing to lose..."
" Sheppard? Sheppard!"
SGA
John's eyes snapped open, then his head snapped around in time to see the really bald man scuttling back like a crab. The man, when out of arm's reach, pushed forward into a wary crouch with both hands held out before him, empty.
" Easy, friend Shep, easy. Just needed to wake you. Gotta go, you see. Harl and his thugs could be anywhere. We need to get to the ring."
Ring? Ring. Round thing, ring. Ring, ring, ring... a noise? An object? Big round gate. Why did that sound about right? Well, it did. John studied the really bald man, whose name was... was... K-something. This sucked! Ring, ring, ring... Ring around the Ro-sey! Gate, big gate – time to dial - to the stars, through the stars, wild and nauseating. John's head twitched, trying to shake the moss and muck from his brain. It didn't work, made his head hurt, and he winced.
" You okay, Shep?" K-something asked. Genuine concern. Hadn't seen that in a while. Sheppard nodded carefully, testing his vicious brain. K-something rose slowly, still cautious, and just as slowly approached Sheppard. Sheppard's heart thudded hard, and his own caution became the only presence in his vicious brain. He shrank back, tensing, readying, muscles coiling to pounce when the nasty kick to the ribs came. K-something slowed, bowing, reaching out his open hand to Sheppard. Sheppard looked at it, like it was a snake, then the hand that it really was, offering help. He looked at K, who was smiling – friendly smile. Also not seen for a while. Pocket full of po-sies. Ashes, Ashes, we all fall DOWN! CRASH! Sheppard quelled. A song... about the plague? A plague? Smart man said so. He knew too much. Fall down, fall down hard. Crash! Sheppard shivered, trying not to vomit.
Sheppard also hesitated, debating, but the debate became lost to him, and his body begged through aches and stiffness to be free of the unrelenting ground that dug into his bones. Hand shaking, he took the offered limb, and untangled himself from the blanket as K-something aided his haul into standing.
Cool air, moist and smelling water-sweet, brushed the skin of his back through the thin shirt. He started shivering again, and couldn't stop. He felt a weight on his shoulders, and the cold ceased. He turned his head to see the blanket back on him. K-something patted both shoulders.
" Keep it on until the blood starts flowing. Can't have you freezing to death on me, not after we've come this far."
John clutched the blanket tighter around himself. K-something lifted the two bags from the ground, slinging the one with the strap across his back, and the other smaller bag over his shoulder. He smiled at John.
" Time to move," he said, and started off. John followed, not knowing why, just knowing he should.
Nothing to lose by it... so said the vicious brain.
SGA
And thus we reach the pinnacle of stupidity. Rodney's jaw worked to grind his teeth down to the gums. Better than opening his mouth to spat the words shoving desperately from mind to mouth, screaming to be heard. Rodney shifted his back for a more tolerable position against the tree that didn't involve the assault of jagged bark to his spine. The young black clad soldier pacing before him tensed, switching – for the fifth time – his rifle from one shoulder to the other.
The kid's face was a poor mask of menace. He could sneer and look down at McKay with all the smug superiority capable of being mustered, but the effort being put into the facade was distracting him from the fact that he kept jumping at every slight sound. His three compatriots weren't faring so well either. As they milled about the dirt road, keeping casual watch for their CO, their gazes would slip to the four sitting lined along the road with backs to the forest. These kids had no idea what the hell they were doing.
Teyla had long ago given up on reasoning with them. The kids were too busy being spooked and pretending they weren't. The four youthful SOBs had gotten the drop on the team during the night as they camped, hustled them from the clearing where camp had been made to the road, and forced them to remain seated on twigs, rocks and who knew what else poking into the backside. Luckily, the night had been on the decline, so at least a few hours of sleep had been snatched.
Wow, I'm thinking on the plus side. Better quit while I'm ahead. Inner voices might begin to wonder. Inner demons won't let me live it down. Ha! Rodney didn't want to think positive. The disembodied voice of Sheppard was persistent on the positive, but McKay was still pissed at him – and pissed in general. Anger was easier to handle than the fear, so he milked it for all it was worth. Too bad Sheppard wasn't here. Laying the blame on him would have helped pass the time.
Rodney did find entertainment in glaring at the young soldier, which increased his annoyance when the young man's gaze went more to the feral Ronon than the irritated scientist. Once upon a time, Rodney once had a glare that had made him king of the universe... okay, king of the lab... but it had been effective at one time, even if it had been only to a select group of people.
Rodney shifted again in an attempt to dislodge the rock that was stabbing him in the tail-bone. This brought the kid's eyes to him, not to mention the business end of the rifle.
" Stop moving!" he growled, voice wavering, arms trembling. Oh yes, just weaned off of military school, this one. Rodney made his eyes go heavy-lidded, pushing back the breath-snatching pound of his heart.
" Listen junior. You dragged us out here, you forced us to sit here, not my fault if the location sucks. You took our weapons. What the hell do you think I'm going to accomplish by squirming around a little? The discovery of a well chewed toothpick to flick in your eye!"
The kid, trembling, blinked. " Just... don't move!"
McKay huffed a laugh through his nose. He loved screwing with the naïve minds of the locals, catch them off balance with one too many earth references. Served them right. He was sick of being held at gunpoint – held period.
" Whatever, kid. Just point that thing somewhere else."
Sheppard would have been proud of him... had he cared what Sheppard thought. Which I don't. Bastard.
The kid seemed to be debating this command, and the effort appeared to hurt. He was thankfully distracted by the crunch of tires from the little vehicle that Rodney had no intentions of ever calling a car. It was occupied by two men, but on rolling to a stop only one exited. This one looked no older than the kid still aiming the rifle at Rodney.
The new kid approached his subordinate with a stiff back and hands clasped behind like a mini Hitler.
Time for a diaper change, you little Nazi snot! Why the hell can't we talk to some adults! Rodney's jaw shook, clamped tight enough to actually break his teeth for real. He was going to let Teyla handle this one, or Ronon. Hopefully Ronon. That usually involved necks being broken.
The newbie eyed the team with disinterest, then turned his focus to the subordinate.
" Situation?" he asked.
" We found these four out in the woods, sir. They 'claim' to have been guests of master Harl and were heading home."
Newbie turned back to the four, doing another once over that lasted two minutes. He said nothing, instead turning on his heels back to the cart. He picked up what looked to be an over-sized walkie-talkie, spoke, looked at the team, spoke again, listened, spoke again, then returned.
" I have been ordered to escort you back to Chief Judge Harl's. Two prisoners have escaped – dangerous prisoners – and Judge Harl fears for your safety."
The team exchanged looks, everyone suspicious. Teyla looked up at the young man, squinting. " But we are only hours from the gate. Would it not be safer if we returned to our own world? We also need to report back to our leader before she becomes concerned over our absence."
Newbie neither said nor expressed anything. Instead, he went back to the cart and the walkie-talkie. Talking ensued, then he returned again.
" It is better that you return with us. The prisoners may try to follow you through the gate."
Ronon tilted his head to one side like a inquisitive dog eying a massive slab of beef. " You have guards posted at the gate. And it's not like we don't know when we're being followed. We can handle two men, I don't care how dangerous you say they are."
Once again, Newbie was at a loss for words and proper facial reactions, except for a slight twitch at the corner of his eye. Ronon had the punk. Newbie went back to the cart and the radio. In that time, Rodney leaned in a little toward Teyla.
" Is it just me?" he whispered. " Or are they a little anxious for us to stick around?"
Teyla nodded. " Yes, they seem reluctant to let us leave. I do not like this."
" What's to like?" Rodney replied. " We were right. It wasn't a good idea to stick around. Too bad we weren't this aware sooner. Oh, wait, I was. I told you this was stupid. I told everyone this was stupid. We should never have come..."
Newbie returned, cutting off all conversation. " For matters of safety, you are to return with us. But I first must ask you... have you seen two men during your travels pass anywhere near you?"
" What do they look like?" Teyla asked.
" One is tall, bald. The other..." the kids mouth worked momentarily without sound. " Is... thin..."
Rodney straightened, arching his head back. " Thin? That's not a description, that's a generalization. We need a little more than that. Is he tall, short, young, old...?"
Again came the gaping fish mouth trying to gasp for words. " Um... that is all we really know of him..."
" Then no," Teyla interjected. " We have not seen any such men matching your descriptions"
" Are you sure?"
Rodney rolled his eyes, readied the nastiest retort he could, only to be beaten by Ronon.
" No, we just like having you ask a lot of pointless questions."
Rodney's sinuses had to be cleared with the laugh that snorted through his nose. At last, something about himself had finally rubbed off onto the big guy. Too bad Sheppard wasn't here to wallow in the irony.
But like Rodney cared what Sheppard thought.
" We are sure," Teyla said, giving Ronon the evil eye.
Newbie jerked his head in a nod. He turned to his subordinated. " Escort them back to Judge Harl's." The subordinate nodded, and newbie turned on his heels to practically goose-step back to the cart. The cart reversed, rolled forward in a U-turn, and crunched off trundling over the uneven path.
Rodney curled his lip in a sneer. " What, no ride? You people really need to learn the value of manners."
" Up!" the snot-nosed soldier barked. The team rose, and while struggling to their feet, Rodney glanced at his three companions. Ronon was smiling that wicked, wolfish smile of his.
Rodney rolled his eyes. " Oh son of a..." Little time to even complete the thought when Ronon started the chaos party. He charged forward to bowl into the nearest armed punk's back, lifting him enough to swing him around and use the kids feet to knock the second punk to the ground. The third Lorne jumped as the kid became distracted in his attempt to aim. The trigger happy little goon that been so keen on aiming at Rodney was dispatched by Teyla with a drop and swipe of her one leg to knock both the kid's legs out from under him. She then slugged him unconscious.
The overgrown boyscout wanna-bes dispatched, Ronon reclaimed the team's weapons and led the way into the woods just as the shout of the young CO was heard.
" Run!" Ronon called. They tore into the forest that seemed determined to disallow them the ability to stay together as a group. Skirting thick trees, shrubs, and trying to avoid moss-hidden logs, dips, and branches had them spreading out farther and farther. Teyla was concentrating on maneuvering toward Lorne, it looked like, and Ronon toward Rodney. Rodney followed suit, and though they were spread, at least they were still in sight of one another.
They ran until Rodney's lungs began to burn and his legs no longer required an obstacle to stumble over – they were faltering on their own just fine. He wasn't normally the one to set the pace, but today was a twisted kind of day, with Ronon letting rip the sarcasm and Rodney deciding the speed for their escape. The rest of the team had slowed as well, always keeping within sight. Soon running became a fast walk, with Ronon, Teyla, and Lorne craning their necks like hounds catching the scent.
" Now – how the – hell," Rodney panted, " are we – supposed – to get out of – here?"
" Dr. McKay's right," Lorne said. " Guards at the gate'll be notified, maybe even doubled.
" What was – that all about – with us coming – back – just because – of two convicts?" Rodney was starting to have second thoughts. He hated having second thoughts. " think we – should have gone back to - Harl's?"
Ronon, ducking his head to see beneath the lower hanging branches, turned to eye McKay ruefully. " Not really. Something else is going on, and I don't want to find out what it is."
" They had no right to deny us our return home," Teyla jumped in. " We were not far from the gate. They knew we needed to check in. Knew the danger if we did not. Ronon is correct. There is something wrong with this situation."
Rodney couldn't argue their points. He wanted to, since logically there might have been a simple explanation to all this. But Rodney wasn't too keen on giving way to logic anymore. Paranoia was dominant, and in truth he liked it that way. Besides, if trouble were going to happen, better it happen sooner than later, he supposed.
All in all, he had plenty to work with on a proper chew-out for Elizabeth. No was no, and yet so many thought it to have several different meanings.
They trudged on in silence, listening through the animals sounds for human sounds. Rodney took a swallow from his canteen, then pulled a chocolate power bar from his vest. He ripped away the wrapper and biting into it had never been so heavenly. Then again, biting into one was always heavenly. He never did understand why Sheppard only tolerated the things, never enjoyed.
But like he cared what Sheppard thought.
" Does anyone have a destination in mind?" Rodney asked between bites.
" Circle around," Ronon replied. " Watch the gate. Wait for the right moment to make a run for it."
Rodney paused on his next bite, and suddenly his appetite was gone. " Oh lovely. Why did I even asked?" He sighed heavily, stuffing the remains of the bar back into his pocket. " We are freakin' dead."
Ronon glanced at McKay, shooting him a smirk. " Isn't that what you said on the hive ship? About ten times?"
Rodney glowered. " Hey, it's bound to come true one of these days."
Ronon shook his head. " You really do need to think positive more."
" Shut up Sheppard!"
Silence fell fast and hard. Every head was turned his way, every expression blank, but Rodney didn't care.
" Slip of the tongue. Get over it all ready! And shut up Ronon!"
Ronon looked away.
Rodney had to admit the slip wasn't pleasant, but caring he had long since stomped into the dirt. Anger was easier. It was about time the others figured that out.
The day aged toward the afternoon with the sun overhead but unable to torment them with heat thanks to the thick foliage of the trees. Breezes cooled Rodney, but didn't stop the sweat from soaking into his clothes. Probably high time for a brake, but he didn't have the breath to announce it. He also didn't feel far away enough from those kids playing soldier. The punks might not have been anything to worry about, but Rodney would bet his laptop there were a few grizzled vets with tracking skills to rival Ronon's. Every world had them.
Shouts echoed madly through the forest. The team paused, lifting their heads, turning them to point their ears in every direction. A shot sounded, and Rodney flinched at the shower of bark stinging his face and hands.
" Get down!" Ronon roared. He doubled back, grabbing a bemused Rodney by the collar of his jacket and hauling him behind the thickest tree. He shoved Rodney down, then darted for the tree across the way. Teyla and Lorne already behind trees of their own. Shots were exchanged, with bullets ripping up the bark, sending it raining down in shards. Rodney peered around the tree enough to see three men coming at them. Only three. Ronon could have taken them on by himself. He had with a couple of wraith on that hive ship.
Ronon darted from one tree to the next, moving closer as Teyla and Lorne drew fire. Rodney drew out his nine-mil with no intention of shooting and accidentally hitting one of the team. It was a precaution, and a means to make himself feel a little more in control. He did another quick peek around the tree to see Ronon going hand to hand with one of the soldiers. This wouldn't last long.
" Hey, you."
Rodney jerked his head around. He didn't have time to register anything when something hard struck him fast in the face, snapping his head around and his body to the ground. His vision swam, swirled, with flecks of light sparking in his vision. He heard tromping footsteps and made out a blob of black in body-shape loom over him. Hands grasped his collar tight enough to choke. Rodney was hauled to his feet, which made the world tilt like a theme-park ride. He felt himself being lugged like a sack away from the safety of his tree, deeper into the woods. The sensible thing to do was to call out, except his throat was feeling uncomfortably restricted, so much so that he could barely take in air.
Finally, he was thrown to the ground.
" Don't move," came a snarl. Rodney didn't mean to lift his head. He was too dazed to listen to reason. He blinked rapidly to clear away the darkness and fuzz, only to widen his eyes on the black clad, not so young soldier standing four feet away with gun raised and steady.
The man cocked the gun. Either he was going to shoot, or simply loved scaring the hell out of his captives. By the wickedly gleeful smirk, Rodney was leaning toward the former. The man moved closer to Rodney, breathing hard.
" Who are you?" he demanded with a little too much zeal. Rodney gaped, muted against his will. The man moved closer, and when close enough gave Rodney a good kick in the face. Rodney's hands shot to his nose oozing heated liquid as he rolled onto his back. The man lowered the gun to place the barrel on Rodney's chest.
Rodney's heart was beating fast enough to pummel itself into hamburger. " Oh hell," he whimpered. He'd survived a wraith hive ship only to be shot by a sociopathic human. Death was determined to take him one way or the other, and in style it seemed. Unless Rodney died of a heart attack first.
" I said," smiley simpered, " who – are – you?"
Kind of like the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland, minus the hooka and pretty smoke. What Rodney wouldn't give for a mushroom that made him ten times bigger.
Smiley put weight on the gun, pressing it into Rodney's sternum harder and harder until the ribs creaked and couldn't expand. Rodney gasped, then his eyes went even rounder.
A shape darkened by the little light spilling in shafts through the leaves rose up behind smiley. A careful, fluid movement of an arm, the flash of silver light off metal, then the gurgle of a throat when that metal slid across the exposed neck. Smiley hadn't heard or felt a thing. He lurched away and stumbled back, turning to face his killer. In an act of final defiance, he lifted his gun with one hand. The killer – tall, stick thin, head hidden by a hood – didn't seem to care much for the gun. He moved toward smiley, smiley stumbled back, trying to aim. Killer never gave him the chance when he attacked, lunging at him with bloody knife raised then coming down. The heavier man fell to the ground with skinny guy on top, stabbing over and over and over, thudding, bone cracking, blood flying, the still chest pulverized into ground-chuck pulp.
On the next lift of the arm, the knife didn't come down. It remained raised, dripping crimson drops that flew because the hand gripping the hilt was shaking. Rodney felt ready to puke. He would have too if his body hadn't frozen when the skinny man scrabbled away from his handy work – and turned his hidden gaze on Rodney. Rodney shrank, shaking hard.
" Oh 'rap," he moaned through a blood-stuffed nose. " Oh 'rap, oh 'rap, oh 'rap..."
Killer just stood there, holding the dripping knife to his chest with both hands like it was a security blanket. Rodney cautiously rolled onto his own chest, pulling up his hands beneath him to push himself to his knees. He pulled one leg from beneath him, planting his foot on the ground. He tensed in preparation to push off that ground in a turn to start running. Except killer still hadn't move.
And Rodney was finding something obnoxiously familiar about the man's filthy pants. And boots.
Rodney was quickly distracted by his salvation in the form of Ronon creeping up behind skinny - Teyla and Lorne taking up the rear to watch his back. Ronon put his finger to his lips, and pointed at the ragged man – who Rodney realized was trembling.
Ronon slipped his arm around the thin man's neck with the same liquid ease skinny had shown on slitting smiley's throat. It wouldn't take much for Ronon to snap that neck – to that Rodney had no doubts. But skinny proved quick – not bright – but quick. He dropped the knife, yet only to free his hands in order to grab Ronon's arm to try and pull it away. Since that was futile, he bit the arm instead.
Ronon grunted, gritted his teeth, and let the man bite with what Rodney knew was an obviously dirty mouth. Finally, Ronon had enough. He grabbed the hood, yanking it back and starting to twist it in order to tighten the collar around skinny's throat.
The face revealed, Rodney's heart stuffed itself into his mouth.
" What the freakin Ronon don't hurt him!"
Ronon snapped his arm away and lurched two steps back. Silence slapped itself on the world, and hell froze over when Ronon's face went slack with utter shock.
He was free, but he didn't move. John just stood there, staring at Rodney. Rodney stared back at him, and time stopped in that little niche of the world.
Rodney was the first to blink, and so the first to shatter silence's imposing presence.
What... the freakin' hell!"
SGA
A/N: Everyone sigh in relief. Well, not quite yet, still more action to be had. But at least the gangs all together, right? And dance for joy because I finally figured out what I want to happen at the end! Took long enough but something finally clicked together that should prove exciting. Thanks to everyone for suggestions and input, and special thanks to Drufan whose suggestion finally kicked the muses into gear.
Also, if you find odd mistakes like words melded together, that's not my doing. I've looked over this chapter several times and I swear wierd stuff happens when you transfer the document from point A to B.
